A/N: Sorry about the late updates. I'm in the middle of moving right now. I had this ready by Thursday, but I literally couldn't get onto my computer until now.

So. This chapter. This chapter was a full eighth of the reason i started this fanfic in the first place. It was meant to be chapter five, but as the opening arc grew longer, I realized I'd have to put it on hold until the second arc. This is one of the more crucial steps in Peter Pan's overall character arc, and I'm loving every second of it.

Don't you love villain songs? Especially villain songs where the villain is trying to con the hero. Watch Poor Unfortunate Souls - the way the music starts slow, then gradually builds into something incredible, the look on poor Ariel's face... it's a work of art. Not so with Facilier's villain song. It has a few good lyrics in the beginning and the end, but the middle bit where he's reading fortunes puts the mood to the side instead of smoothly transitioning through the story. If only he'd done the card readings before the song or something.

Anyway, for my parody of the Disney genre, here is a song of my own creation entitled 'put a feather in your hat!' (I wish I could make the music and visuals for you guys to listen to) about how the hero is genre savvy enough to recognize the character of the con-man, and he gets conned anyway. Enjoy. Or have nightmares. Or enjoy the nightmares. This chapter was just so much fun.

A couple of years in hell… can give you such a crick in the neck!

The Prince and the four friends walked through the rows of silent tombstones. New Orlean's cemetery was probably one of the spookiest places on earth, the dead living in silent and unwelcoming unison, rows and rows upon countless rows all encased in stone.

They came to a stop in front of one tombstone. New Orlean's cemetery was, unfortunately, located in a valley. In the event that a hurricane or a tidal wave swept through the state, they didn't want to have their dead be dislodged from their earthen rest, so the New Orleans cemetery placed them in tombs and crypts instead of coffins in the ground. The tombs were marked not with tombstones, but with statues and giant blocks of carefully crafted marble, making them look almost like prisons.

But one tombstone jutted out of the landscape.

It was crooked, one side sunken into the earth. The cemetery workers would have fixed it up, or dug up the earth beneath it to find the body and put it in a proper crypt, but strangely, whenever they looked away, they forgot it was even there. And it was strange, for this tombstone had a face carved on it in twisted agony, a face filled with such pain and fear, that nobody could forget. But any complaints mailed to the cemetery workers, somehow lost all their ink before they even reached the people who could do anything about this horrifying tombstone.

The tombstone was cursed. There was no body buried in it; the body had been dragged straight into Underland, by a being that had only one name, and a name that dared not be uttered, lest it awaken her. There was only a shadow, buried dead in the earth, underneath the crooked tombstone.

The shadow of Dr. Facilier.

The prince and the four friends walked forward.

Shego clung to Peter's arm. "Relax." Peter said. "I'll protect you from any mean old oogey boogeys."

"Yeah." Iridessa was curled up into a ball inside Peter's coat. "Peter will protect us."

"You didn't tell us he was dead." Mickey said, nervously looking around the tombstones.

"I'm sorry." Naveen said, pulling the collar of his shirt. "I know I shouldn't have tricked you… I just wanted to be back in New Orleans, and see my wife and child."

"I understand." Mickey shivered, as he recalled the night Merlin found him. "I think I'd do anything to see my family again too."

The five of them stood in front of the crooked tombstone.

"Maybe this tombstone can tell us something." Mickey said.

"It is just a tombstone." Naveen shrugged.

"Yes, but it has a mouth." Mickey pointed to the screaming face. "It would be an easy trick to get it to talk again."

Naveen stared at him in horror.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Peter asked, with a grin.

"No!" Naveen cried. "You can't!"

"But it was your idea." Shego pointed out.

"But that was when I didn't know you could actually talk to him!" Naveen said. He knelt down in front of Mickey. "Listen. The Shadow Man is very dangerous, and very charismatic. Letting him talk to me was the most dangerous thing I've ever done."

"No problem." Peter scoffed. "We know he's a bad guy. All we have to do is not listen to him."

"You don't understand!" Naveen looked straight into his eyes. "I'm a charmer. I've had more girls fall in love with me then I could count. I play the Prince Charming so well, that I've made many southern belles from plantation farms forget that part of my heritage is African. I've made men forget that they love women. I even once charmed an alligator who was about to eat me and my wife. I am probably one of the most charismatic people you will ever meet, but Dr. Facilier managed to make turning into a frog sound like a good deal to me. He could talk you into anything. Even if you gave him back his magic, I doubt he would be more dangerous then if you gave him back his voice."

Mickey hesitated. Somewhere behind him, a murder of crows started cawing at each other. Peter laughed. "Don't tell me you're both scared of a statue?"

That made up Mickey's mind for him. "I know it's dangerous, but I've made my decision." He said. "Merlin told me to look for the Order of Fantasia. I don't know how else to do it, but this."

Naveen grimaced. "This is a really bad idea. This is a really dangerous idea."

"We're in the middle of a war." Mickey said. "Of course trying to stop it will be dangerous."

Naveen hesitated. Then sighed. "All right." He said. "You're the one who managed to stop the Headless Horseman. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm… pretty sure I do." Mickey had no idea what he was doing. This was just like the time he stopped the Horseman. He was in danger out of his depth, and he'd have to make things up as he went along.

Mickey took one last look at the statue's screaming face, and lifted his hands. "Here goes nothing. Are you ready?"

"No." Naveen said, before Peter could reply. "Nobody ever is."

Mickey took a deep breath, and said the spell. The substitutiary locomotion spell was the last basic spell every witch or wizard learned, before basic training was over and they had to select a school of animal to draw magic from. "Treguna Mekoides and Trecorum Satis Dee!"

At his bidding the tombstone came to life, with an unearthly scream. Mickey and the others covered their ears, before the screaming slowed down, and the face on the tombstone grimaced.

"A couple of years in hell… can give you such a crick in the neck." The face on the tombstone rotated a full three hundred and sixty degrees, before a loud snap echoed through the cemetery.

The five stared at him.

"Afternoon gentleman, lads, ladies. Welcome to my humble home." The face smiled. "A pleasure to meet you on this fine day, a tip of the hat… from Dr. Facilier." He chuckled. "Or at least, I would tip my hat, if I had one."

Naveen took a step back. "Oh don't be scared your highness, I don't carry grudges. What's done is done, and even if I was still a little upset, it's not you who sent me to hell." The statue grinned. "Why don't you introduce me to your kids? I see you and Tianna got busy, after I left. And a little freaky if the mouse is any indication."

"Don't you dare talk about my wife that way!" Naveen's countenance turned from fear to anger in a heartbeat.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." He kept on chuckling. "You were much more laid back the last time I met you. My matchmaking skills must be pretty good if you and her are still living happily ever after."

"You didn't have anything to do with it."

"I turned you into frogs."

"I turned Tianna into a frog."

"Oh, right. Well, I guess I can't take all the credit, can I? After all, you were the one who turned your girlfriend into a slimy, amphibia–"

Naveen punched him in the face. Then he hissed in pain and retracted his hand. A couple of his fingers were broken.

"You wouldn't have that problem if you'd brought me all the way back instead of just my tombstone." Facilier grinned smugly.

A cold wind swept through the cemetery, chilling them to the bone. Mickey stepped forward. "I have some questions for you."

"I think introductions are in order first."

"I'm Mickey. This is Shego, and Peter."

"Jack." Peter corrected. Facilier looked at him with a wry grin.

"Now, what do you know about the Order of Fantasia?"

Facilier looked down at Mickey and laughed. "The Order of Fantasia? You want to know about the Order of Fantasia? Well, I suppose it's a fair question, but what do I get out of it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if I told you what I know about them, would you just end the substitutiary locomotion spell and send me back to hell? No, I'm no chump. Everything in this world has its price, same with everything in the next world. You want my help? You're gonna have to pay up for it."

"No." Naveen said. "If you're not going to help, we'll just end the spell and send you back." He put a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "Send him back Mickey."

Mickey shook his head. "What's your price?"

Naveen stared at him like he was mad.

Facilier looked thoughtful. "Only one price. Bring me back to life."

"I can't do that." Mickey said.

"But I can." Facilier grinned. "All you'd have to do is shake hands with me… or some other form of agreement… and I could do anything. That's the power of voodoo."

"Anything that's not about yourself." Mickey pointed out. "You can't use voodoo magic on yourself."

"Well you see, that would be true, but I have a sponsor who's loaned me a bit of magic that isn't due yet. If you could see it in yourself to doing this one thing for me, I could even clear my other debts!"

"No deal." Naveen said, and this time Mickey said it at the same time.

"I thought you'd say that." Facilier said. "So I'll sweeten the deal. There's a war going on right now, right? I was trying to keep it from starting, but it went ahead and started without me, so if you free me I'll work with you, I'll do whatever you say, until the war's over."

"You were trying to stop the war?" Naveen scoffed. "How? Was Hitler in the Mardi Gras parade you tried to steal souls from?"

"Hitler?" Facilier looked confused. "Sorry, I don't know who Hitler is. I was talking about the war with Maleficant and the Morgannians."

"How could you have prevented it?"

Facilier smiled. "You want answers to that, and more? All you have to do is set me free."

"Yeah right." Peter snorted. "We're not gonna fall for that old trick."

"Who says it's a trick?" Facilier asked.

"I do." Peter stepped forward. "I know it's a trick. But you can't trick me."

Facilier laughed. "Of course not."

Mickey suddenly became aware of demonic drumbeats. They sounded like they were far away, but slowly getting closer. He was about to say something about it when something caught his eyes. Namely, a pair of disembodied eyes, staring at him.

He couldn't move.

Shego whimpered, and Naveen angrily grunted, but neither of them could move either, and still the drumbeats drew nearer.

Facilier laughed. "Of course not." He said to Peter, who seemed to be the only one still able to move. "You're a clever little boy, how could I fool you?"

"I'm not a boy any more." Peter puffed up his chest. "I'm all grown up!"

And then the drumbeats reached the fore, and Failicer started to sing.

There's no reason to keep up this charade,

You've got me dead to rights!

I'm a villain, a scroundel, a charlatan, a crook,

I'm all smoke and mirrors and dancing lights!

As he spoke, Mickey watched in horror as columns of smoke erupted over the cemetery, and dancing lights swirled through their mists. The sky turned an eerie shade of green, decorated with multicolor fireworks. The chanting grew louder. This shouldn't be possible. The subsitutiary locomotion charm should have only brought back a small part of Facilier's soul, not nearly enough to do all this magic. Not even voodoo magic. Not even Whodoo magic!

I could try to fool you with my clever words,

I could try to tempt you with a song!

I could try to pretend to be your knew best friend,

But we both know we wouldn't get along!

Shego was terrified. Her life may end in a big song and dance number. She'd tried to break free, but once the magic started, she couldn't look away. She saw the fireworks, and would have cried, if her eyes weren't perpetually on fire.

You know in your heart that I'm a villain,

And you know I'm just as loyal as a rat!

You've seen through all of my deceptions!

You should be proud of yourself, Put a feather in your hat!

The chorus was supplied by the dead as they rose from their tombs.


Put a feather in your hat! Put a feather in your hat!

You know he's evil, you know he's a rat!

So be proud of yourself, and put a feather in your hat!

Peter looked around and suddenly seemed to grasp that there was a musical going on. As Facilier's crooked tombstone got out of the ground and began to dance, he sung in reply. "Don't think that you can trick me, by putting on a little show Shadow Man."

Facilier looked amused, before he continued his song.

You're right to be suspicious of my tricks,

But singing is no sin, and I should know.

Still, I'm glad you're staying on your guard,

That only goes to show:

You're more cunning then I'd imagined,

And I truly hope that you don't mind;

I think I'll keep trying anyway,

To trick you into a bind.

"Good luck." Peter said dismissively.

I knew when I saw you you'd be stubborn,

Like all the other who've said that.

So thanks, it looks like I'll need all the help I can get,

You're too clever for me, so put a feather in your hat!

Rather than be terrified, Peter seemed to be relishing the challenge, and even begun to dance a little with the crooked tombstone as skeletons came out from behind tombstons and started using their bones as musical instruments.

Put a feather in your hat! Put a feather in your hat!

'Good Luck'? You aren't the first person to say that,

But you're smarter than them, so put a feather in your hat!

As Mickey struggled, his senses picked up something. Focusing his magic, he was able to realize why he was frozen in spot; a pair of disembodied eyes staring at him, staring at them all, with such power and venom that they couldn't move if they tried.

He felt Iridessa struggling inside Peter's jacket and prayed she'd be able to get free, but she was restrained too somehow.

Now, here's what I'm going to do Peter;

You're going to make a deal with me.

I'm going to bring myself back to life,

And I'll serve you faithfully.

And before you turn your nose up,

Remember boy what I can do!

Wealth, health, happiness, and more,

That's the true power of Voodoo!

I can snap my fingers, and turn mice to horses,

I can make you fly just like that!

Peter gasped, and the face on the crooked tombstone pretended to be surprised.

Oops, did I let that slip? Well,

Don't take my word for it, put a feather in your hat!

Put a feather in your hat! Put a feather in your hat!

You can fly like a bird, just like that!

Don't take his word for it, put a feather in your hat!

By now, a pair of rotting corpses had picked up the crooked tombstone, and were dancing with it. Peter walked up to him. "Tell me how I can fly!"

No, I've said too much already,

I couldn't possibly say more.

I'll hold my piece, to the very grave!

'Till my cold dead lips are sore!

Peter drew his sword. "Tell me, or I'll crush your stoney-face into powder!"

"No need to get so nasty." Facilier scolded.

The feather of a crow is what you need,

It's known to give the power of flight.

Just pluck a feather from the nearest bird,

Make a wish, and hold on tight!

Conveniently, a group of dancing skeletons had shocked the murder of crows out of their trees, and a feather dropped from one of them, and landed neatly in front of them. In the midst of the color, and the fireworks, and the dancing, Peter bent down, and slowly picked it up.

You think that I can trick you?

I thought you were too smart for that?

So what do you have to lose Jack?

You might as well, put a feather in your hat!

Put a father in your hat! Put a feather in your hat!

You're far too smart to fall for that!

You might as well, put a feather in your hat!

Peter held the feather in his hand. "All I have to do is make a wish?"

"Yes." Facilier said. "Make a wish… tuck the crow's feather into your hat… and you'll be able to fly like a bird." He winked. "I have more tricks just like that in store if you bring me back to life."

Do you really think I'll trick you, like this?

Come on Jack, you're smarter than that.

This is your chance to fly again…

Dr. Facilier leaned in close, and whispered in Peter's ear.

So go ahead, and put a feather in your hat.

Peter looked down at the feather in his hand, and with a slight, almost triumphant smile, he made a wish and slipped the crow's feather into his hat.

The body that the eyes belonged to materialized, and Mickey's heartbeat quickened as Alice appeared, sitting on a crypt. 'Soon, you'll all be mine' she mouthed, and then she disappeared entirely, and Mickey realized he could move again. "Peter don't! It's a trap!"

"Yeeessssss!" The music picked up again, as Facilier's tombstone went back to where it began.

"Bom-bom-bom-bom-Bom-bom-bom-bom-Bom-bom-bom-bom-Bom-bom-bom-bom… are you ready!"

"Are you ready?" Facilier sang.


Peter began to backpedal in a panic, only to be grabbed by the skeletons. Facilier's face was suddenly painted with a skull mask, that alternately glowed white, green, and all the colors of the rainbow.

He opened his mouth, and it became a portal to hell.

Peter struggled as a hand that wasn't there tore his shadow away from him. The shadow struggled itself, and probably would have screamed if it could. It grasped at the ground so forcefully, that its non-existent fingers left grooves in the dirt where he tried to hold on. The terror, visible on the shilhuoette, didn't last much longer. Or at least, nobody on earth saw it last longer. The shadow was slowly, feet first, dragged into the mouth of the face on the crooked tombstone. It made one final attempt at saving itself, clinging desperately to the sides of the marble face, before the lips closed, and the face on the crooked tombstone – now Peter's face, crying silently – closed its mouth forever.

The earth in front of the tombstone was torn up, and several horrible ugly looking little dolls emerged. They dragged a shadow behind him, and even as Peter squirmed, they took out rusty sewing needles and began to sew the shadow to Peter's feet.

"Captain Teague!" Shego cried out, wondering why nobody else was doing the smart thing.

The skeletons tossed Peter to the ground, and crumbled into dust. Peter groaned and lifted himself up, and looked at his shadow. His shadow was bigger than he was, and leaner, and it was wearing a top hat.

"Hey." Said Dr. Facilier, Peter's new shadow.

Then they both got up and danced. And in perfect, demonic harmony, they started to sing.

Put a feather in your hat! Put a feather in your hat!

Be proud of yourself, because you fell for that!

You knew I was a liar, you knew I was a rat,

But you thought you were the best,

Thought you were smarter than the rest,

So I put it to the test… ha!

And you put! A! Feather iiiiinn, yoooouuuur


He did a final slide on the ground, toward the group of children, and it looked for a moment that Peter's face was painted to look like a skull. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Doctor is back in the house."