Potoperson: Guess who's back…back again… Poto's back… tell a friend…

Cella: That she's finally fulfilling her duties as a writer…

Potoperson: Yeah. I know.

Son Venvor: What are we going to do with you Potoperson?

Potoperson:…let me get to the chapter?

Son Venvor and Cella: Fine

Potoperson: Thank you awesome-sauce reviewers!

Izlegoddessofmagic (You get an imaginary, virtual, autographed cupcake for PMing me and asking me to come back)


I do NOT own Ed, Edd, and Eddy or the Fairly Odd Parents. I do own the ever increasing amount of OCs in this story…

Here we come chapter nine! Ready or not, there is a mime!

On another note. Um… I've never been to Paris, so all the info I get is off the internet. If anything is inaccurate and you spot it please mention it via review or private message so I can fix it. (Haven't had a whole lot of luck finding pictures of Luxembourg Gardens in Winter…)

Chapter 9- Luxembourg in France

Jimmy lie sprawled across his bed, dreaming of bright lights and stardom, of beautiful faces and the make-up designers who helped them along, of the run way and the…


Jimmy bolted upright in bed clutching Mr. Fluffytail, his hair disheveled, his eyes bleary. "Huh…? Whaa?" he mumbled. Rolf was standing before him, dressed in his Urban Rangers uniform and brandishing the infamous stick. It was just barely light outside. Jimmy blinked in confusion and repeated, "Whaa?"

Rolf bopped him with a stick and shrieked, "Out of bed! Your training begins NOW!"

Jimmy grudgingly climbed out of bed, still holding Mr. Fluffytail and rubbing his eyes. He was dressed in footie pajamas. "Roooooolf, if I don't get enough beauty rest I'll get bags under my eyes." He moaned. He received a thorough snack for that. "Appearances are unimportant! To be a man you must train your body and your mind. I already told you that you must call me master. Now you face punishment."

Jimmy was too drowsy to pay much attention to what Rolf was doing, but it wasn't getting slapped with a stick so he didn't really care what it was. He felt something like a rope or a belt get tied securely around his stomach. Then he felt a cold blast of morning air smack him in the face and suddenly he was falling. Paris swirled all around him. He squealed as he realized he was falling out the 7 story window toward the street below. He squealed like a tortured piggy as his head came nearly a foot from the sidewalk and he sprang back to the window again.

He grabbed onto the window sill, unable to pull himself up because of his upper arm strength (or lack thereof) "Rolf! Pull me up!" He cried. Rolf, who was standing in the window holding a bungee cord attached to the belt he'd fastened around Jimmy's stomach, frowned in disapproval. "Rule two apprentice, overcome fear with strength. By the way, you have forgotten to call me master again. Goodbye." Without much effort Rolf lifted Jimmy up by his fingers and dropped him to the city street again. He remained bouncing like this for nearly an hour, squealing and crying. At one point some of the boys got up, looked out the window at what Rolf was doing, decided they didn't want to know, and went back to bed.

As the sun began to rise Jerome began to head down the street to pick the kids up. As he was walking he was startled when Jimmy suddenly appeared before him, upside down, seeming to float in mid air. "Bonjour Mousier Morea." Jimmy said. Shaken he returned the greeting. "Bonjour Jimmy." He suddenly flew up toward a seventh story window and fell down to the street again. He was attached to a bungee cord. "What are you doing?" he asked when he'd come back to being eye level with him. He bounced up and fell down again before saying, "I'm training."

He bounced up and he shouted after him, "Training for what?"

He came back down. "Training to be a real man." He said with great determination. He bounced up and fell down again.

"How is this going to make you a real man?" Jerome asked, now in amusement

He bounced up and fell. "Rolf says it will, and he's my master."

Up he went again. "Do you want me to untie you, Jimmy?" he called.

He fell down again. "No, I'm fine, thanks." He bounced up again. Jerome chuckled. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast Jimmy." He called before continuing on to the lobby.

At that moment a window one floor above the boy's room opened and Sara poked her head out the window. At seeing Jimmy she almost fainted. "Jimmy! What are you doing?" She shrieked.

"He's finding his inner fearless manly man." Rolf answered.

Sara stared outraged at Rolf. "You mean you tossed him out the window?" She demanded.

Rolf shrugged. "A real man could figure out how to get out of this himself."

"Hang on, Jimmy! I'm coming!" Sara cried and was about to run down stairs to rescue him when he cried, "No! I'm fine Sara, really. The nausea isn't really that bad… after a while." Sara cast one last look at Jimmy's trying-to-grin face and said warily, "All right" before closing the window.

She sighed. "I left him alone for one day, and they've already turned him into a maniac."

At breakfast the talk was of nothing more than the flight of the mime and the mysterious Rose's Thorn.

"You have to admit it is a pretty cool name for a super villain." Johnny said.

"She isn't a 'super villain' She's a real criminal and could be dangerous." Nazz answered, "What are we going to do?"

"Who says we have to do anything? This is a job for the police, not a bunch of freshman." Kevin said.

Eddy scoffed. "C'mon shovel chin, I thought you were suppose to be Mr. Macho-man. She messed with Double D. She messes with one of us, she messes with all of us. Didn't we beat about a hundred school teachers over the summer?"

"They weren't actually going to do anything to us, remember? These guys are actually dangerous."

"Somebody's being a chicken."

"I am NOT being a chicken. I'm being smart." But Eddy was already making chicken noises and flapping his arms like wings until Nazz told him to stop. At hearing that Kevin had "magically been transformed into a Chicken" Ed lifted Kevin up and pet him as though he was the previously mentioned farm fowl and started making cooing noises until Kevin bellowed for him to put him down. Ed did, mumbling, "Somebody got up on the wrong side of the coop."

Marilyn said softly, "I don't think you're being a chicken, Kevin."

Kevin smiled at her and said thanks, it meant a lot, causing her heart to sputter and a blush to rush up her cheeks. Across from her the Kankers noticed. When Kevin had averted his attention elsewhere Marie heaved a sigh, "If only we could have done our drastically amazing and dazzling make-over. The man of much chin would be eating out of the palm of your hand right now…"

"You really shouldn't make fun of him like that." Marilyn said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You probably think his massive chin is cuuuuute…" Marilyn blushed. Titters all around.

What? It reminded her of the Crimson Chin from Fairly Odd Parents.

Nearby Jerome was chatting with the lady at the front desk. She seemed to be openly flirting with him. (Jerome was a handsome man.) Nazz leaned to Eddy and asked, "So, how do you think Jerome knows so much about the Rose's thorn, huh?"

Eddy shrugged, "He watches the news?"

"No, I mean he seemed to really know the Rose's thorn. Did you see how right away he went and grabbed the mime like that? How many random guys you meet on the street would a) Guess there was someone out there and b) want to actually go find them? It's like he was a cop or a spy or had a score to settle…" Eddy could almost see the possibilities run full speed through her head. "So you think that Jerome might be involved?" Eddy clarified. "I don't know, but I think there's something more to our teacher than he lets on." Nazz said confidentially. Eddy grinned, "I'm liking the way you're thinking."

Double D heaved a sigh across from them. Eddy and Nazz looked up from their conspiracy theories curiously. "What's up with you?" Eddy asked, an eye brow raised. Double D looked between the two sadly and said, "You two were made for each other. The power of two conspirators bound together by the power of love…I think I ought to be frightened now…"

"Oh come on Double D, where's your sense of adventure?"

"It ran away with the mime…" In reality what scared him the most was that the two of them might run off trying to find this woman when he knew better than any of them how dangerous she was. He'd heard stories. She was beautiful, deadly, unstable. Let's just say she wasn't called "the Rose's Throne" for nothing.

At that moment Jerome returned and announced they would be seeing Luxembourg Gardens. Filled with beautiful scenery, fountains, statues, and the famous Palais de Luxembourg (Or Luxembourg palace) was a famous spot to chill out. It was rather nippy that day, but groups of citizens still wandered the paths or reclined in lawn chairs. Children were pushing model sail boats across the Great Basin.

The group followed Jerome as he discussed the history of the gardens and the palace. From its creation at the request Marie de Medici, the widow of Henri IV, by Salomon de Brosse and other architects, to it's occupation by Napoleon Bonaparte, to its conversion to a jail where the revolutionary writer Thomas Paine was imprisoned. It now housed the French Senate and was near to the musee (supposed to be an accent here) du Luxembourg which house temporary exhibits.

(Is this somewhat educational with a surprising amount of research done considering this is only a fanfic? Yes. Yes it is. This is where I start to break into fiction land)

There was a poster in front describing the latest exhibit- art of the early to mid 19th century, including some art work brought in from the Louvre. Double D. begged to go in to see it, but the lady at the front told them that unless they called in advance they could not bring a group in. Jerome introduced himself then leaned forward, complimented her earrings, and asked in an adorably pleading manner that his little friends had had such a hard time lately (which they had. Being threatened, incarcerated, and thrown out a window would constitute a hard time in my book) and all his hat wearing friend wanted was to see the exhibit, and he'd had the hardest time of them all. (I think so anyway) He could pay for the tickets. Pretty pleeeeeeeeeease, Belle Fleur

After they'd gotten into the exhibit Nazz asked, no longer attempting to hold in her laughter, "Do you always dazzle girls to getwhatyou want?"

Jerome looked offended. "What? I wasn't trying to 'dazzle' her. I did like her earrings, and she was like a 'pretty flower'. Her name was Rose, didn't you see her name tag?"

At the name "Rose" Double D flinched. Eddy spotted that immediately and asked, "Hey, why did you want to come here anyway. I figured you'd be done on art ever since… you know. 'flower lady'"

"I love art, I can't help it. It runs in my family."

"Indiana Jones likes art?"

Double D snorted. "No. Not unless he thinks it 'belongs in a museum'. I mean my mother's side. She appreciates the true beauty in art… stop laughing!" He said as Eddy had begun chuckling at his friend's sensitive nature. Double D rolled his eyes, "Whatever Eddy. Just because I'm sensitive. You could use a lesson or two in sensitivity for your girl friend's sake."

He quit laughing and narrowed his eyes at him. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"When a girl starts crying because she was worried about you, you don't stand there with your mouth half-agape wondering what to do."

"I didn't know what to do!"

"Exactly. You've got to learn what to do. Comforting her, apologizing, a hug. Those are all fairly good options."

"Why don't you have a girlfriend then Mr. Resident expert?"

"No one gives me a chance."

"What about Sara?"

"I don't have the heart to put Jimmy through that again."

"I think Jimmy's a little busy at the moment."

They glanced over at Jimmy who stumbled past, still dizzy from the bungee jumping experience from earlier. "Poor Jimmy." Double D observed, then turned back to Eddy. "My love life, or lack thereof, wasn't the topic here. Sensitivity, got it, Eddy?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sensitivity."

Double D walked ahead to check out a painting, leaving Eddy to ponder what he said. Sensitivity? When was he not sensitive? Oh, yeah, basically always. Did that really matter that much anyway? What had being sensitive ever gotten him?

"Hey, Eddy."

"Quiet, woman, I'm thinking." Eddy grumbled still pondering. Then with a start he realized it was Nazz offering him a program. She folded her arms, miffed. "Well. That was rude if I do say so myself."

She started to storm away but Eddy stopped her. "N-nazz! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I mean… Ugh, I'll just go sit in my wrong corner and be wrong now." He was about to slink off to afore mentioned corner, but Nazz just laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "You're so cute when you try to be sensitive, Eddy." She said. His face went red. Ok. Maybe being sensitive did pay off every now and again.

Just then he spotted somebody nearby. A figure dressed in a black trench coat, beret, and sunglasses. Her hair seemed to be dyed black. She was gazing at a portrait of a woman dressed in white. Under her arm was tucked a thick book. A thought struck him. "Nazz. Nazz, look over there." He said, pointing. (And ignoring the "when you point three fingers point back at you" rule)

Nazz seemed disappointed that they were finally having a romantic moment and it was ending so quickly, but regardless she looked. "What?"

"That woman right there. She's wearing sun glasses inside."

"That's kind of a trend now, Eddy."

"I mean she's wearing sun glasses and she has a book. Who does that remind you of?"

Nazz seemed to follow where his thoughts had taken him, but seemed unwilling to accept it. "Eddy, I'm sure there are plenty of ladies in Paris who wear sun glasses and read. How do we know that's the Rose's Thorn?"

"Only one way to find out. We have to see if that's an art book."

"Eddy, really?"

"Come on Nazz. If the Rose's Thorn is in a place filled with paintings don't you think that that be a problem? Shouldn't we make sure?"

Nazz sighed, not wanting to agree, but having to. "Lead the way Eddy."

They walked as nonchalantly toward the lady as possible as stopped beside her pretending to be looking at the painting but really trying to get a better look at the book, but she was reading it now and she kept tilting the cover away. Eddy got an idea. "Nazz hand me a quarter." He whispered. Nazz looked at him suspiciously. "Will I get it back?"



"Come on, Nazz, do you really think I'd steal from you of all people."

"Aww Eddy." She said giggling as she handed over the quarter. He tossed the quarter at the lady's feet. "Woops, dropped my quarter." Eddy said, a bit obnoxiously. He got down to pick it up, but all the while he was looking at the book cover which he could now see perfectly. The BFG by Roald Dahl. "Darn it!" He shouted a bit too loudly. The lady lowered the book and Eddy put his head down and started babbling, "I mean there's my quarter I was looking everywhere for it." He stood up and returned to Nazz, urging her with a hand gesture they were getting away. "Sorry to disturb you, Miss. We'll be leaving now." He called over his shoulder.

The lady responded, "It is all right children."

They froze, still facing away from the lady. For a lady, her voice sure sounded like a male falsetto. They turned back to her, but she had her head buried so far in her book that they could no longer see her face. They moved closer to her. "Um…'miss', have we met before?" Eddy asked suspiciously.

She didn't move her book, but her hands seemed to be shaking. "N-no. Of course not. You must be mistaking me for somebody else." She said, her wavering, falsetto-y voice quavering. Eddy and Nazz changed skeptical glances.

"Are you sure?" Nazz said, "Cos I think we have met you before. In a hotel lobby…"

"And a street corner." Eddy said, smirking now, "Mousier Mime."

The "lady" lowered her book so they could see her face, her sun glasses were slipping down her nose. They'd both seen those trapped, darting eyes before. "U-um. I can explain." He said.

"No need." Eddy said and he and Nazz both linked arms with him, one on each side, and headed for the door. On passing Rose at the front desk they gave a smile and said they ran into an old acquaintance and wanted to take a stroll in the gardens to catch up on the news. She seemed startled, but nodded and let them pass. They dragged the mime outside all the way to a shaded area in an orchard and stopped, still not letting go. "I-I can explain." The mime said again, pleadingly this time, "Really. It's not what you think."

"Then start explaining." Nazz said, "You're here so that means your boss can't be far behind. Where is she?"

"S-she's…she's… Oh, I can't! She's got the whole place bugged. she'll know I said something!"

"So you admit she is here. What's she planning?" Eddy demanded.

"Oh, oh. I guess I did." The mime glanced around at the trees, as if they might be listening. (Which if what he said was true, they just might be.) He said quietly, "If I were to say she was here and she knew you knew you would all be in grave danger. She is not called 'the Rose's Thorn' for no reason…"

"We'll be in danger anyway if she carries out what she's planning, won't we?" Nazz said, lowering her voice.

The mime seen torn with indecision for a moment. He glanced between the two then lowered his head in resignation.

"All right. I'll tell you."

In a small underground bunker beneath the carousel a woman sipping cranberry juice watched her mime whispering frantically to a pair of children. That was the friend of his boy. She'd seen the girl before in the courtyard of the Louvre. She'd seen the two hold hands. A pretty girl, she was. She'd have to keep her in mind for later. The kid's exchanged surprised and alarmed glances, obviously at being told what she was planning. The Mime made one last plea to the kids. The boy seemed to hesitate, but the girl seemed to insist. Finally the boy relented and nodded. The kids turned and ran back in the direction of the museum. The mime turned and glanced about the trees.

The woman smirked. "It is a pity, Mousier, but I believe our partnership is done. A pity. Though not a surprise." She picked up a walkie talkie and said, "I believe we are ready to begin now. Ladies and gentlemen, move out."

Jerome was explaining the piece that Eddy and Nazz had previously been standing by (While occasionally throwing a wink in the direction of Rose at the front desk) when Eddy and Nazz ran in, completely out of breath. Jerome raised an eye brow. "Where have you two been?" he winked, "Out for a little stroll in the city of love…"

"Rose's thorn...she's here…" Eddy said through gasps for breath. Everyone turned and stared at them now. Jerome looked very seriously at them now, "Where did you find out this information?" he asked.

"Long story." Nazz said, "We ran into the mime. He told us something important. Quick, we have to tell the curators. We have to tell them-"

At that moment the lights went out. They could hear shrieks of surprise and murmurs of confusion throughout the exhibit. Not from this group. What you heard from them was a silence of dread. Nazz closed her eyes and muttered, "Too late…"

Just then there was a crash at the door and a platoon of people like soldiers rushed into the museum, grabbing painting after painting from the exhibit. Jerome grabbed the portrait they'd been admiring and shoved it at Kevin. "Everybody take a painting and run. Stowe them at the puppet theatre then meet back at the Grand Basin." He ordered, "Go!" Kevin turned and sprinted through the doors. Everyone else following in a similar manner, each with their own painting.

When they realized that their plunder was running out the door, a group of the men broke off from the rest and chased after them.

Potoperson: There we are!

Cella: Cliffie? Really?

Potoperson: I thought it better I get in a chapter than get to the end of this chase scene.

Son Venvor: She could have ended it earlier I suppose.

Potoperson: Exactly!

Cella: Don't you have to announce something?

Potoperson: Oh, yeah! Cella now has her own facebook. That's right, you can become friends with Cella. She will accept you. You can write on her wall, ask questions, tag her in pictures, ask her to prom, and view the occasional wall-to-wall banter between her and your's truly: Potoperson.

Son Venvor: Will you actually accept prom invites?

Cella: Probably not. But you can ask anyway.

Potoperson: So yeah. She's under "Cella Cellophane Morales" You'll know it's her because her profile picture is a drawing with a caption that includes her name. Link in my profile. Bye!