Keeping mum… er again.
Summary: We met Marian's mother but what about Robin's parents? It can only mean disaster, especially since they're determined to see him happily married, well married at least, so they can get the grandchildren they've always wanted. Shouldn't be hard, marrying off the famous Robin Hood, should it? Throw in another of Rose's schemes, and the King doing the unthinkable, remembering there's more of England to tax than the small village of Worksop. Oh, yes and Gary and Graeme try to write a popular children's novel.
Disclaimer: I own neither show, nor characters. In fact i even stole some of the quotes and plot...
A/N: apologies if this seems a little awkward in places, my ides ha dissues with not being written in srcipt format.
"You know what I don't get?" asked Gary to Graeme one dull grey afternoon as they strolled along the road back to the castle, having just had the Kings copy of 'Larry Otter and the goblet of wine' stolen from them by Robin Hood and his fearsome gang of merry men, "why an otter would want a glass of wine anyway."
"Well," explained the elder, " why not, I mean I'd love a nice glass of wine, and you like drinking wine too Gary. I bet even the sheriff enjoys wine, don't you sheriff?"
"What Graeme?" snapped the Sheriff.
"You like wine don't you sheriff?"
"Yes Graeme," came the response through gritted teeth.
"See Gary," continued the guard, "If I like wine, and you like wine, and the sheriff likes wine, there's no reason an otter shouldn't like wine."
"Suppose so," agreed Gary, " can't think it'd make much of a story though."
"Oh I don't know," argued Graeme, "I mean how would the otter get the wine, and once he'd got it how would he pick up the goblet…"
"Will you two shut up!" snapped the sheriff, " if we don't find a way to get that book back the king is going to pull our insides outside, shove them through an electric blender set on speed level 5 and them tip them back over our bodies so we look like we've been contestants on a particularly violent episode of Noels house party!"
"I don't think so sir," said Gary
" And why not?"
"Well electricity hasn't been invented yet sir, he'd have to use the hand blender."
"Or," put in Graeme, "more likely make us do it."
"I don't think I'd like to be gunged though," added Gary thoughtfully, "it'd stain my uniform."
"Yeah, and we'd have to meet that annoying bloke with the beard and the bad taste in jumpers,"
"I'd like to meet the big pink thing with all the spots though."
"GAH!" yelled the sheriff irritably as he stormed off in front of them.
"Wonder what his problem is?" asked Gary as they carried on strolling behind.
"Robin, will you put down that stupid book and help me get the post," called Marian groaning as she tugged fruitlessly at an arrow pinning several pieces of paper to a tree, "I can't get the arrow out!"
"But Marian," complained the coward, "this is really gripping stuff: see there's this teenage lizard called Larry Otter and he goes to this school," he began explaining excitedly, "but it's not boring like normal school, and he learns lots of cool things like how change cows into chickens, and make turnips grow really, really big…"
"Oh do shut up Robin," said Marian, "Rabies, will you come and pull this arrow out, I don't know what I was thinking asking Robin anyway, he's about as useless as the left handed pair of scissors was to anyone in my class at school, well except lizzie the left handed loner, and she never used them anyway, preferred to sit in a corner and eat glue."
"And then," continued Robin oblivious to the fact no one was listening, " he has to fight this evil dude called King Mouldy Wart…"
"What?" cut in Marian, suddenly interested in Robin's story.
"I said he has to fight this evil dude, well him and his friends do: there's Tom he's got ginger hair and is completely useless, and then there's the really clever girl who's name I can't remember…"
"No Robin, what was the villains name?" asked Marian as Rabies pulled effortlessly at the arrow, failing to free the post but succeeding in ripping the tree for it roots and lifting it in the air, held by the arrow.
"King mouldy wart," replied Robin, "he's really powerful and everything, and he wants to destroy all the mugs in the world, though I'm not sure quite why yet…" A puzzled look spread across the outlaws face as he went back to reading his book.
"King Mouldy Wart, eh?" mused Marian, "John's not going to like that: it's probably a good thing we got this book."
"Morning," called Barrington as he walked into the camp whistling merrily, "eh Rabies what you doing with that tree?"
"I dunno, what am I doing with this tree?" asked Rabies.
"You're getting the mail," replied Marian, "so Barrington where have you been? Not got a girlfriend you've been sneaking off to visit?"
"Nah Marian" replied Barrington smiling, "don't be ridiculous that'd be far too much of a story line for me, after all I am basically the narrator, and some comic relief."
"Now come on Barrington," scolded Maid Marian, "this whole show is comic relief, you're as much of a character of the rest of us."
"Maybe," agreed Barrington, "but none of you are ever over come with the urge to recap today's happenings in the form of song are you?"
"No," conceded Marian.
"We all do our fair share of singing though," chipped in Robin remembering his Elvis style Karaoke about Chop Suey.
"How do I even know what's going on at Nottingham castle anyway?" asked Barrington worriedly.
"Hmmm," said Marian as an idea sprung into her head, "I don't know but it's a useful talent for us to use once and then ignore,"
"Like his impersonations?" asked Little Ron
"Exactly little Ron," agreed Marian, "so come on Barrington, give us a song."
(The tune of Kiss the girl from the little mermaid plays in the background. )
There you see it
Sitting there in that tree
it has got a lot to say
But there's an arrow in it.
And you don't know why,
but you're dying to try
You want to,
check the mail
Yes, you want to -Look at it.
You know you do
Possibly there's none for you
But there's one way to find out
It don't take a word,
not a single word, go on and
Check the mail
Dear oh dear
Look at it sitting there
you wanna check the mail…
"Ok Barrington Ok," snapped Marian, "that was really helpful, I mean its not like that was what I was trying to do anyway!"
"Sorry Marian," apologised the Rastafarian, "but I can't help what it says: I'm just the messenger."
"I don't suppose you could get the mail then could you Barrington? Little Ron can't reach it, I couldn't get it out, Rabies got half way through the task and forgot what he was doing and Robin, well he's Robin really isn't he?"
"Sure thing Marian." Walking across to the tree, which Rabies had now put down, he pulled out the arrow with only a little straining, and looked at the letters."
"Anything interesting?" asked Marian.
"Bill, Bill, Junk mail, Junk mail, my subscription to musical narration monthly, and ooh a letter for Robin."
"Really?" asked the outlaw, "chuck it over then."
"NOTTINGHAM!" roared the king, "where's my book?"
"The thing is your majesty," began the sheriff searching for an excuse, "they'd sold out your majesty."
"Yes your majesty," put in Graeme, " you forgot to pre-order your copy didn't you sire?"
"Well," began the king his face turning red, "I shouldn't have to I'm king."
"Yes sire," continued Gary, "Don't worry Sire, they'll get another delivery in as soon.
"No they won't," whispered the Sheriff sharply, "this is the 12th century: everything has to be hand written. It'll probably be another year before any more copies come out."
"Oh. Well then: never mind sire you don't like reading anyway"
"You do your majesty," responded Graeme, "you said that on your list of favourite things to do that reading was so far down that only number 14 (having your sister do that thing with the pencils that you hate so much done to you) and number 783 (maths) were lower down."
"Yes well," grumbled the king, "I don't care: I want my book!"
"Don't worry your majesty," said the sheriff slimily, "we'll get one for you," he paused and muttered quietly, "somehow"
"Come on Gary, Graeme," he yelled striding out of the castle, "I have an idea."