Disclaimer: Sharpe & related characters belong to Bernard Cornwell. William Danger and the random song belong to me.

Explanation: What the hell is she writing now?? Well, I wanted to try a non-script-style-fiction in English once. And I wanted to abuse a different subject. And I was extremely bored. And I know that this is neither good nor funny. But ... BORED! So ... forgive me!

And: I chose this category because I have seen more of the movies than I have read of the books. So if there happens to be any ressemblance with any of the characters, then they will most likely be like their movie/series version.

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It was a cold evening, sometime in the late 18th century. Our story takes place in Spain. Then again, it might as well have been any other country, for example ... France. Now, that's a good one. Our story takes place in France on a random battlefield, where random people are doing random things quite randomly. But is this randomness true or is it just a clever strategy to bore random enemies?

We might find out sooner or later but first we should take a look at our main character, who is just about to-


"You told me to clean my tent, sir."

"I said HAND, not tent!! Clean your hands Sharpe, that's what I said!!"

"I beg you pardon, sir. I though-"

But before Sharpe could think any further a very disturbed Rifleman Perkins came running past.


Yes, it was a perfectly normal and perfectly random day indeed.

At the same time though, Danger was approaching elsewhere...

"I came to deliver a letter for Major Richard Sharpe, sir."

"And who are you?"

"Sergeant William Danger, sir."

"Then who am I, anyway?"

"I don't know, sir. Probably just a random voice that will remain random for this is not a script style fiction."

"A script style fiction, Danger?"

« Oh yes, sir. In a script style fiction they write your name in front of what you say so everyone knows exactly who's talking at the moment."

"Why, this sounds excellent! Danger, get me one of those ... script fictions!"

"I can't, sir.", Danger said, clicking his heels together and jumping up and down twice.

"Well, why not?"

"Napoleon does not allow script fictions in his country. He says that, I quote: 'Les fromages de ma sœur sont évidemment rouges!' »

« And what does that mean ?? »

"I don't know, sir. It's probably got something to do with cheese."

"I see. Well then, get me Richard Sharpe on the phone."

"I can't, sir."

"What?? Why not???"

"No one's invented the phone yet, sir."

This seemed like a problem indeed. Luckily Sharpe was just digging a hole outside Wellington's tent, when-

"Hold on a minute, I'm the Duke of Wellington?"

Yeah, I'd say so.

"WHOOPIE!! I'm a Duke!! Yay!! Wahey!!", the Duke exclaimed happily whilst running up and down his tent and thus scaring William Danger away.

Not that it mattered, of course. He had delivered his letter to Sharpe and therefore successfully completed his mission. Then again ... it hadn't quite reached Sharpe yet. The letter was still located in the tent of Wellington, who was eagerly reading the just mentioned piece of paper...

Dear Richard,

I assume that you will be glad to hear that I gave up drinking. I did this because my hat told me to do so. Also my hat told me where I would find you. I am currently busy setting random trees on fire but as soon as I have finished this important task – which by the way was another wise suggestion of my trusty hat – I am going to visit your camp. I am looking forward to spreading havoc and evil there as soon as I arrive. Of course I ,or most likely my hat, will come up with a cunning and entirely evil plan to get rid of you once and for all.

Do not attempt to flee for it is entirely useless. Or, as my hat used to say: You can run, you can hide but you can't escape my love.

Now anyway, I'd appreciate if you'd prepare a nice meal and some cold drinks for me and my hat when we arrive.

Well, that's all for now. Have a nice day and be always remembered of the pain I shall inflict upon you and your friends soon, greetings,

Obadiah & hat


Once having corrected all the spelling and grammar mistakes Wellington decided that the letter had no further importance. So he fetched himself some tobacco and rolled a nice cigarette, which he decided to keep for later.

Meanwhile almost the whole army knew of Perkins' fears concerning the end of the world. Some men tried to calm him down, others merely ignored him, but most of them just stared or pointed and laughed.

And Hagman, bored as he was, even wrote a song for young Perkins. It went something like this

Oh Lord, my Lord, we hear you call,

Oh Lord, you're angry after all.

Oh Lord, we heard young Perkings say,

Today, oh Lord, today's the day;

The end of the world – the apocalypse!

The end of the world – the end of time!

The end of the world – the end of all!

The end of the world – my Lord, your call!

Oh Lord, my Lord, it makes us sad.

Oh Lord, I guess it's really bad.

Oh Lord, why must it end like this?

So much, oh Lord, so much we'd miss, but;

The end of the world – the apocalypse!

The end of the world – the end of time!

The end of the world – the end of all!

The end of the world – my Lord, your call!

Oh Lord, my Lord, it grieves us so.

Oh Lord, we do not want to go.

Oh Lord, but it's what Perkins said,

But then again, oh Lord, he's mad.

The end of the world – oh come on now!

The end of the world – you don't really believe that do you?

The end of the world – yeah right and I'm Napoleon.

The end of the world – just leave us alone!!

And as Hagman was singing this song everyone else was singing along, really liking the new lyrics. And liking the melody as well! Then again ... everyone was pretty plastered so that might explain a few things...

My point being that .... well, my point being that I don't have a point at all ... but that's not the point, is it?

But fact is that Sharpe had not done anything brave and heroic for quite some time. Which is a shame since all the ladies know how stunning Sharpe's looks can be once he is doing something brave and heroic.

Luckily Sharpe was still randomly digging holes in front of Duke Wellington's tent as Rifleman Perkins came running past once more. He had not gotten rid of his old habit yet and was therefore still shrieking "THE APOCALYPSE!!! THE APOCALYPSE!!!"

So Sharpe, feeling greatly disturbed in his digging, bravely grabbed his shovel and whacked Perkins over the head with it ... heroically of course.

"HURRAY!!!", shouted the other Riflemen.

"HURRAY!!!", yelled the rest of the army.

"WHOOP A DEE DA LOOP!", exclaimed the Duke of Wellington

"Owwww!", moaned Perkins.

And Sharpe? He was finally able to continue his beloved digging activities with the knowledge of having saved the day once again whilst managing to keep a perfect hairstyle!

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Okay, done. If you want to waste your precious time then review and give me a feedback! You may also report spelling or grammar errors since I am sure that there are plenty to find...

But please keep it constructive, okay?

Thanks for your ... uhm ... patience? Stamina? Willingness to suffer? ... thanks for reading! :-)