Here's my submission for Lora's FanArtPalooza 2009! It's based off of a commission she made for some dude. Here it is! Enjoy, and read & review please! It gives me hope for a new day.

Freddy and the Bet

It was a hot and barmy night on the Long Island coast; it didn't help in the fact that Frederick Knowlton's regiment was situated near a swamp. The regiment had tents scattered across the area, with a makeshift building in he middle. This was the building that Freddy was hoping to get into.

"Dammit!" cried Freddy in a hushed voice as he stepped on a particularly hard rock. He couldn't let anyone know where he was, or what he was doing. If he was caught, he would be done for, and who knows what his father, Colonel Thomas Knowlton, would do if he found out what he had done. So, with tentative steps, he reached for the door.

This whole thing started with a bet; not just any bet, but a bet made by Major Alan Warren himself. This came about when he, Freddy, and a couple of other men in the regiment were playing cards. Freddy was somewhat in the lead, with three dollars and a spoon that he won. This all came to a halt when Allan, who was also in the lead, albeit with four dollars and two rusty forks, said, "I bet you two that you have to go into the supply shed and steal some liquor." And with that, Alan Warren sentenced Freddy with the job of getting alcoholic beverages, for a soldier must honor a bet, no matter how awful or terrible it might be.

Freddy was finally at the door, huge and terrifying, with its water-stained front and rusty hinges. As he was fumbling with the keys he had filched from a sleeping officer, he was starting to get second thoughts; what if he got caught? If he did get caught, what would happen to him? "Probably get demoted", Freddy thought. But he couldn't go and back down on his dare; if he did, then he would probably get a fate worse than what his father could give him from his peers.

Alan Warren couldn't get to sleep. He was worried about Freddy, and if Freddy was actually going to go through with he said. He didn't mean what he said of course; he had hoped that Freddy wouldn't take his word seriously, but a nagging feeling told him otherwise. So, Alan got dressed, grabbed a lantern, and went to look for Freddy, before it was too late.

It was damp, dark, and also hot inside the supply shed. With his lantern, he looked around until he saw what he came for: a whole stack of liquor bottles, put lovingly in the back of the building. He walked over there with surprising ease, and dodged many of the bullets, muskets, and shovels strewn across the floor. He picked up a bottle, and drank. Before long, Freddy certainly was a happier, flushed-looking version of himself.

Alan came to the supply shed, finding the door open.

"Oh no", Alan muttered to himself as he stepped inside. He was surprised at what he saw, and yet wasn't surprised at all. He found Freddy lying amidst a bunch of empty

bottles, looking like a disheveled urchin.

"Hey there, Alan! Want some? It's pretty good!", Freddy hiccupped.

Alan declined, and helped Freddy up. Freddy almost fell down, and Alan helped him keep his balance. As they got out of the building, Freddy shouted, "Alan! You look funny. Did you get your haircut?"

Alan told him, "Not so loud! We'll get caught." Inside though, Alan was asking God to grant him patience.

Alan had almost gotten Freddy into his tent when a familiar, looming figure stood in the way. Colonel Thomas Knowlton was certainly not pleased at what he saw, and had to restrain himself from yelling and waking everyone else up.

"What happened?", asked Knowlton with restrained fury.

Alan was not sure what to say. He knew he had to tell the truth; but he did not want to get his friend into trouble. But, he knew what he had to do. Alan commenced on telling Knowlton on what happened, while Knowlton was uncharacteristically quiet about the whole thing.

Knowlton finally spoke after a few moments, and said, "I know exactly what to do with him", with a playful gleam in his eye.

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Freddy woke up finally in the afternoon with a good headache. He wondered why it was so bright outside; from what he remembered, he was inside the supply shed. But reality finally took a hold of him, and he realized where he was; outside, in the middle of the field where his regiment was, and he was sitting in a makeshift stock, with his feet in the holes where his hands were supposed to be. He also noticed that there was a sign hanging around his neck, which read "drunk". Freddy looked around, and saw the entire regiment looking at him snickering. He also felt the sensation of a dog licking his toes (which the men had found wandering around the encampment a few hours earlier.). Thomas Knowlton came up to Freddy with a slight smile and said, "Did you like the drinks? I hear they were quite tasty. You should've saved some."

And with that, Knowlton pushed Freddy forward and almost made him tumble off the stocks if it weren't for his feet in them. Knowlton gave a hearty laugh and went about his way. The other men looked at Freddy with great pity; except for Nathan Hale, who didn't approve of such acts in the first place. And with that, Freddy swore he would never play cards again.