I love the Three Caballeros! So I wrote fanfic of them. I intended to write something less....gay, but it didn't come out that way. I mean, this is the Three Caballeros we're talking about. Something was going to happen at some damn point while they were getting wasted!
Okay, I kid. But. Just watch the movie if you haven't already. Watch it right now, it's on youtube. One of the biggest acid trips in the history of Disney movies.
Instant T for drug references! Slashy Jose/Donald. Characters belong to Disney. Flames and critiques encouraged.
"Hahahaha! You sure taught that foolish ol' burro not to compete with us, eh amigo?" Panchito gave a hearty laugh at the memory while supporting Jose with one arm, Donald holding him up with the other as they exited the noisy bar. Jose merely hiccuped, his boater's hat falling over his eyes. As wasted as he was, Jose never forgot to carry the umbrella and cigar on his person.
After a long day of festivities and tomfoolery, Panchito, Donald, and Jose -or the Three Caballeros, as they've come to be known as- retired to an old but active bar at the edge of the town. This town didn't exactly exude a tourist-friendly atmosphere, but Panchito-bright red, gun-toting rooster- knew the land like the back of his hand. He was more than happy to see his two closest friends visit him from their respective countries, and he would see that they enjoy their stay at Chihuahua. Whether or not he has to roughen up a few rude troublemakers in the process.
"Yeah! You showed that sucker up, all right!" Donald proclaimed proudly, puffing up his chest. He recalled one of the men lingering in the bar calling out the Brazilian parrot from the group, presumably for the impeccable yellow suit that neatly contrasted the homelier bar and its patrons. Panchito and Donald were ready to stand up for their green parrot friend, but Jose was hardly affected by the calls. He decided to indulge this clearly stuck-up young crow with a little 'friendly' competition to silence him once and for all; that competition being, a drinking contest. In the end, with Jose having his fair share of strong alcoholic drinks in his country, came out the victor. Bets were cheerfully won, and some painfully lost, and the ever composed Jose had to be carried out of the bar by his two friends, leaving the young man plastered and passed out against the table.
As Jose dizzily swayed against Donald in his grip, he thought it was a sort of ironic for the parrot to end up in this position instead of him. There's a first for everything, he supposed.
"Where did that good-for-nothing horse run off to?" Panchito muttered as he scanned the area for their transport. He spotted him in the field outside of town, devouring some vegetation. The rooster whistled and called Senor Martinez's name, but the horse casually ignored him and continued on with his snack.
"I swear, that animal is too spoiled for his own good!" Panchito said, annoyed. "Here, hold on to Jose while I go fetch Senor Martinez." He then stomped to where the horse was at, leaving Jose and Donald behind to wait.
"No, no. No need fo' that, Donal'! I can stand on mah own three feet!" Jose laughed stupidly, pushing himself away from the duck to balance himself on his umbrella. He pushed his hat up and fumbled to button his coat with one hand, rather unsuccessfully. One of these days he was going to buy a new coat that STAYED buttoned.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say." Donald took the cigar from Jose before he burned a hole into his yellow coat. He watched as the parrot mumbled and cursed something in Portuguese until he finally gave up with the blasted buttons. He looked over to Donald and suddenly laughed.
"That was a riot, was eet not? Eet's....always an adventure weet you two. You an' *hic*.....Pepito." He slurred on in a thicker than usual accent, the alcohol clearly messing with his system.
"Panchito, Joe." Donald replied, amused. He wondered if this is what the other two had to deal with whenever had too much too drink at parties. He would be lying if he claimed he never got carried away on these trips. Oh, if his family knew the kind of shenanigans he'd always get into....
Jose squinted. "Jo'? Who is dis Jo'?" But he quickly moved on from the 'conversation'. "Ah, yes. Deese wondeful journey you bring me alon'. The dancin', the drinks, an' the wonderful company an' pretty ladies. Deese things I do wit' you....I always cherish in my memories." Jose clumsily motioned every word with his hand as if he held an invisible cigar.
"Aw, don't mention it, Joe. I'm always glad to see you and Panchito." Donald responded to his friend's monologue, knowing how often Jose got lost in his own thoughts, even as drunk as he is now.. He'll have one heck of a hangover in the morning, Donald thought.
"....an' the music. The lovely music."
Suddenly, Donald felt Jose's weight pressed up against him, forcing him back a couple steps. Jose slouched on Donald with his arms around his neck, and the sailor felt his face heat up at the nearly non-existant space between their beaks.
"We could....how do you Americans say? Make sweet, sweet music together, Donal'."
"W-what?" Donald was completely taken back by what his friend suggested. What he thought he suggested. What he thought he hoped the parrot wasn't suggesting! As the Brazilian eyed him with that dark, heavy red gaze, Donald could feel his heart pounding against his chest. A small hiccup, and the stench of strong alcohol was as obvious as the proximity between the two caballeros. That's when it hit Donald that it was, technically, just the booze talking. At least, that's what he kept telling himself....
Without warning, Jose went completely lax in his grip, and Donald had to hold his friend up to prevent him from hitting the ground. "Joe? Are you okay?" Slow, deep breaths let the duck know Jose had completely passed out. What kind of drinks did they sell at the bar, anyways??
"Isn't that just cute?" Donald jumped at the voice, but it was only Panchito who had returned on top of his horse. He smile turned into a frown when he realized the parrot's state. "Looks like Jose couldn't hold his liquor, am I right?"
"Yeah....you could say that."
"Tsk, tsk. Pobre cuate. Come along, it's late. Let's pull him up and head home."
'Home' being the temporary cot where they were allowed to stay at. When Panchito and Donald managed to get Jose on the horse, Donald hopped on himself and made sure the unconsious bird didn't fall of their ride. Donald was left wondering whether he would remember anything the next morning.
The way Jose slumbered in deep sleep against his chest all the way until their destination, Donald didn't count on it.