Disclaimer: Blackadder written by Ben Elton
I make no monetary profit form my fanfic, but I sure had fin writing it!
Enjoy!
Rating G
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DOWN BY THE LONGISH MULTI PASTEL COLOURED WOODEN A FRAME
CUBBY HOUSE
By Baldrick
Forward
By Edmund Blackadder
Ohh Gawd. Woe is me. Chisel that on my epitaph will you ... Never in all my life have I read such crap. Baldrick begged and beseeched me to edit and help correct his story. He even promised to wash himself and his trousers. Provided the washing machine doesn't up and skip town, screaming that is. Needless to say, editing this literary masterpiece took until the accursed cows came home. Balders can't even spell spell and grammar - well he wouldn't know what that was if it came up and bit him on the bottom. Come to think of it, nothing would even survive biting Baldrick's rear end, not even the cockroaches.
On to the story. Well I hate to admit it once I'd corrected and helped edit the thing I can't help but smile at Baldrick's naiveté and even he might have something a little special. Let's leave it at that, shall we. I have no intention of spoiling the mood.
Despite my urges to change the cumbersome title, to something a little more quaint, he refused and put his smelly foot down, and so I'm afraid, the title stays.
Ann he told me this story was for you and I hate to admit it, well I know you'll enjoy it. (Shudder).
Let's just say "Down By the Longish Multi Pastel Coloured Wooden A Frame Cubby House..." is uhh ... unique.
E. Blackadder.
Author's notes @ = Baldrick # = Blackadder
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DOWN BY THE LONGISH MULTI PASTEL COLOURED WOODEN A FRAME CUBBY HOUSE
I've forgotten her mane now, but I saw her on the Bus, on the way to the city. She sat diagonally opposite to me. I was on the wrong bus, actually, but it was meant to be because of her. She had clear rimmed glasses, and wire a pink and blue anorak and a striped shirt and small chequered trousers - I wonder how many times she'd changed them! (Big Smile) Unfortunately I wasn't close enough to smell her and I didn't want it to look like I was staring. She held a plastic bag full of stuff, probably shopping, but I did see a packet of cigarettes. I looked at her. She had shoulder length straggly brown hair and a knobbly wooden cane and a ring on her finger. Her hands were small and knobby. She looked sad and rejected - just like me. Her eyes were sunken into her head and her face was wrinkled. I saw her wipe her nose. She was slumped in her seat, and I was sad when she walked away and I hope that I see her again. I did hear her talk when she got off the bus, a deepish voice, old and a bit crackly, and I don't know her name, but to me she will always be my princess.
Well despite my fear, I decided to follow her. I saw her drop her white plastic bag and the opportunity was there. I rushed to her and picked it up. I hoped she would talk to me and not ignore me. She did thank me and I smiled. I told her It was always nice to help a lovely lady and she smiled at me too. I felt nice inside, glad she didn't just tell me to sod off and walk away. I told her my name and she told me hers. She said she comes to the park to sit down and I walked with her to a bench. She told me that it was nice and peaceful here and she liked it. She also told me that no one had spoken to her like I had in a very long time - that no one liked her. I felt sad for her. I know what that feels like.
#Are you trying to tell me something, Baldrick?#
@Maybe .. and ssh! You're interrupting the story.@
#Sorry...#
At last I could smell her. She smelled lovely ... Ahh the smell of unwashed trousers ... nothing like it. I don't think I know any other smell. She sniffed me too and smiled.
"It's nice to know there's someone who thinks I smell nice."
"Me too."
We talked for a while about where we lived. She said she lived with some other people who always rejected her, used her and told her she stank. Not nice fellows at all. She said she was always sad and rejected ... like how I feel. It seems as though she was a sole ... soul mate or something. I was so glad I found her. It was so nice to have someone to talk to. I was scared that if Mr. B found out that he wouldn't let me speak to her again, probably think it would interrupt my duties. So I didn't tell him. (Smirk) It's my big secret. I was washing his socks one day and smirking to myself.
"What are you smirking about, Balders? I hope you didn't spit in the water."
"Oh nothing of the sort, Mr. B. I was smirking because well I felt like smirking ..."
"Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something from me?"
He walked over to me ad inspected my work.
"You've forgotten to put soap in you nitwit!"
He thumped me - with Mr. Fist as usual.
Well needless to say I had to wash all his socks again - and this time I did spit in the water.
#Hey!#
@You told me you wanted the truth@
#I don't know if I can handle the truth!... Sigh ... What have I gotten myself into???...@
Now, where were we? Oh yes - after I'd washed Mr Blackadder's socks, I went to see her again. She sat and talked again and she told me that she was happy to be with me - finally someone that understood her and I felt the same way about her. She truly is a Princess. I told her that cigarettes were for her and started her on some of my interesting rat recipes. She told me that strangely enough the people she lives with run for the hills when she tries to cook too - my, oh my, the strange people in this world. Her fried bean turd was absolutely scrumptious. We even found a thingy shaped turnip when we went shopping - and she has a friend turnip called Robert. She can't understand why he's black, wrinkly and hard now as Mr. B's fist. He was white and crispy when she first got him - but he looks okay to me. Turnips get like that in their old age. We talked and dreamed of having a vast turnip empire and starting up our own political party, against the washing of trousers and underpants.
#Hades forbid...-Mr. B#
@Come on - this is MY STORY!@
Now on with it ... She took me to a place down by the longish multi pastel coloured wooden a frame cubby house. It was nice and surrounded by trees and stuff. The cubby house was quite large and we both walked inside. She smiled at me and put her white plastic bag down.
"Do you want to have sex?" she asked.
The question confused me a bit. Wasn't that something adults did? What if Mr. B found out? I was curious though and no one had to know.
She pulled her pants down
"Pull your pants down," she said and I did.
She touched her ... thingy ... It was missing the long dangly bit though. She told me to touch mine and I did. Then she touched mine and told me to touch hers and I did.
"There," she said. "We've had sex. Don't tell anyone."
We pulled our pants back up. I smiled. I had had sex and no one knew, except her and she wasn't about to tell in case she got in trouble. I felt proud that I'd some something older people do and smiled at the thought of keeping it all to myself. We went away from the cubby house and spent more time together.
Mr. B started getting suspicious at all the time I was spending away and said I'd neglected my duties. In the end he found out about her. Strangely enough he smiled and wasn't nearly as mad as I thought he'd be.
#See, Balders, I'm not all that bad.#
@Whatever you say, Mr. B.@
Anyway, he said we made a sweet couple. She is really nice and I like being with her and Mr. B said she was perfect for me and future generations of Baldricks. Maybe she and I could have sex again? Only time will tell. I saw her by the newsagents the other day and she looked at me and smiled.
But I'll never forget her. Even though I forgot her name, the name Sally keeps popping into my head. Maybe that's it?
#That's not all that'll pop into your head if you don't get back to work, young man.# (makes fist)
@All right, all right. Hold your donkeys, Mr, B. I'm almost finished.@
#Thank Hades for that.#
And I don't care how mushy this sounds, but I'll never forget that day down my the longish multi pastel coloured wooden A frame cubby house and I'll always luv her, My Princess of the Seven Smells.
All My Love Baldrick.
The End - or Is it?
#Oh Gawd. I certainly hope so. And now, Baldrick, since unlike some people I know, I haven't got a mind like abroken sieve, there's the little matter of you promising to wash yourself, underpants and trousers after I helped you edit this...#
@Oh Gawd. Do I have to?@
#Yes. A deal is a deal. Methinx it's time to run screaming
for the hills.
#Ohh no you don't!#
@AAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!@