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Archive: MA (If you really want it ...)

Category: Humour

Rating: G

Warnings: Not much Q/O. Hideously derivative.

Spoilers: None

Summary: Basil!

Disclaimer: Not for profit

Notes: Thanks to the ladies of the lake

Feedback: Yes! Email address at top.

Nathaniel Trellis, sole proprietor of the Lost Sheep (Independent Traders) Inn and Licensed Premises, looked upon his year-end accounts and basked in their glory. Never had his profit margins looked healthier, his projections sleeker, or his little scams more elegantly disguised. Truly, it was a fine day to be alive. He leaned back into the deep leather upholstery and rested his feet on the desk. What to do, what to do? He was just raising the bone-china teacup with its fragrant infusion to his lips when the com unit beeped at him.

The fruity tones of his dearest friend drifted from the speaker, "Natters! Dear chap. Magnificent news!"

"Ye-es," ventured Trellis, cautiously, "I rather thought so."

"Of course, it'll mean a lot of work for you, but the honour ... congratulations!"

Trellis felt the first chill fingers of foreboding tickle his vitals. "Aah..."

"And to have it carried unanimously at the meeting last night. Such a pity you couldn't attend."

"Well, hem, pressure of work, you know how it is."

"Oh, absolutely. And of course, the honour reflects upon us all. We all know we can rely on you put on a splendid show." Aloysius Rind oozed sincerity.

"We do have a certain reputation ..." Trellis's palms began to sweat.

"Anyway, if there's anything you need. Anything at all, you have only to ask. First aid supplies, stain remover, explosive detection apparatus - I'd offer to send the boys round but after that little fracas last Market Day, they're not exactly in the pink, ho, ho -"

"What -?"

"Still, mustn't keep you. Come round when the dust settles and tell me all about it. Bring the lady wife!" The link went dead.

As if on cue, his darling's voice sliced through the air, "Nathaniel Trellis! Get down here! Now!"

Trellis went.

A morose group of men clustered round their illicit still. It was very late and they had only just managed to escape to the tranquillity of the potting shed.

"And do you know what he had me doing?" Boddiss took a gulp of the fiery liquid and passed the tin mug to his companion.

"I can guess." Spatchcock swallowed gloomily and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Armour-plating the front door. And me with my back!"

"He had me packing away that chandelier. I had to number all the bits. Up and down, up and down - all afternoon. Look at the state of my knee."

They all gazed upon the afflicted part. "You could always rub some of this stuff in," suggested Snout, helpfully.

There was a thoughtful pause. "Nah, best taken internally," they all agreed and passed the mug.

"Well, it hasn't exactly been easy out here, I can tell you -"

"Shh!"

They doused the light and huddled into the shadows as the sound of elephantine stealth echoed through the night. There was a breathless creaking and a scraping. The men flattened themselves against the side of the shed, vying to achieve the best view of their employer attempting to scale the garden wall. He was close to succeeding, when, with an emphatic snap, the ancient latticework parted company with the bricks and he sailed backwards in a majestic arc to land in the moist embrace of the compost heap.

"Natty, my dearest love? Are you there?" a voluptuous feminine purr wafted over the wall.

Trellis leapt to his feet, a cabbage leaf at a rakish angle over his ear. "Bubbles - my angel! I can't get over."

"Oh try, my hero - try. I can't bear another moment without kissing your pert ..."

Spatchcock reached out delicately and dragged an elderly seed catalogue towards him with the heel of his boot.

"It's been hell here, my precious. All day, I've been dreaming of the way your lips caress my ..."

Snout delved deep in his trousers for an elusive pencil stump.

"Oh, my lovely boy, I can't bear it - another second without feeling your warm, strong, manly ..."

Boddiss licked the tip and began to take detailed notes.

Trellis paced.

He checked the time.

He took deep breaths.

He consulted the small print in his insurance policy once more and winced when he came to the acts of gods and civil commotion exclusions.

He gave himself a pep talk. He was in charge. Nothing was going to happen in his establishment without his explicit instructions. The lady wife had matters domestic firmly under control. Chef had recovered from his spasm. The band would play on no matter what (and, given the size of the bonus, that should include planetary disintegration). It was going to be all right. When this was all over he would be able to hold his head up high amongst his fellow Licensed Victuallers, safe in the knowledge that he was One Who Had Emerged Unscathed.

Time for a private moment. He reached for the little grappling hook and opened the lid of the tank. "Come to Daddy. Come on little one, feeding time - ow!" There was a flutter of wings and a chittering of invisible fangs as the creature made its escape.

"Oh, now don't be silly. Fluffy! Come here!" Trellis reached for his pet's favourite toy and began squeaking it furiously. There was an ominous trickling and one of the floral motifs in the rug began to dissolve.

He had picked up the net, calculated the tiny beast's position and was just about to pounce when the office door crashed open to reveal a smirking Spatchcock. "Missus says you've to take over downstairs. Said she had a painted trollop to see to."

"Not now you fool!" shrieked Trellis as Fluffy seized her opportunity to make for the outside world.

He set off in pursuit and burst into the reception area to discover that his guests had arrived.

They turned to gaze upon him.

He recovered brilliantly; skidding to a halt, flinging his net beneath the desk and bowing so low he disappeared from view. "Ah! Greetings, Honoured Sirs," he hailed them, brightly. "Here for the Drabnasty Peace Mediation, I understand? Our humble establishment is thrilled to be of service to the Republic."

The Jedi bowed.

Trellis's welcoming smile wobbled only slightly as he felt sharp little fangs begin to nibble his ear lobe.

The back of his robe began to hiss.