Disclaimer: CS Lewis owns all this, and I own nothing of it. I am responsible for the storyline, however. You can kill me for it, if you like.

Peter was doing what a High King was expected to do: sit in counsel with his siblings and patiently hear all sorts of hopelessly convoluted cases. He was also doing what a High King was, in the mind of his subjects, incapable of doing—namely, waiting impatiently for lunch.

At last, Edmund stood and said, "Fair subjects, may the blessings of Aslan be upon you as you do his will." Which, by the way, was the signal that court was adjourned and lunch was in order. For which Peter was inordinately grateful. In a high and magnificent way, you understand. Which is all very good.

Edmund stood up as the silence in the room broke into small conversations here and there. He immediately sat down again, for a horrible racket outside the Cair suddenly intruded into the babble of the courtroom and drowned out every other sound. May I remind you that the courtroom was in the exact center of the castle, surrounded with thick, stone walls, and surmounted with a thick, stone roof. The racket, which sounded like some sort of song, was being sung outside the palace, and even so its sheer volume visibly shook the walls.

"I've had enough of this noise," Lucy shouted to Susan, who, incidentally, sat beside her. "Let's just go out and see what is happening." Peter somewhat reluctantly agreed, and so it was that the entire Narnian court found themselves atop the battlements of Cair Paravel, staring down at what could only be termed an eyesore.

There, in front of the castle, was a girl. But WHAT a girl! Not only was her hair an ugly shade of urple, but it had blue, red, blond, and black highlights running through it. Susan privately thought it looked like a nasty wound in the last stages of gangrene. Her dress was several sizes too small, particularly in the bodice. It was a nasty mixture of magenta and lime green.

But the song she was singing as she bounced and skipped before the castle topped it all. Her voice, Peter decided, made nails on chalkboards sound like Mozart's finest works (despite the fact that he could not recall any at the moment). The words, earlier somewhat muffled, were now completely clear. Upon discerning them, the High King promptly lost his voracious appetite. Completely.

"ooooh, peeteyweetey, i luv uuuuuuuuu,
"cuz yur soooooooooo hooooooooootttttttttt1
"open ur gattes an dlet meeee innnnnnnnn
"cuz ur soooooooooo hoooooooooottttttttttttttt"

Tumnus turned an impressive shade of green. Lord Peridan unceremoniously clapped his hands over his ears. Peter turned beet red. Edmund gagged.

At that moment, to everyone's chagrin, the gates of Cair Paravel swung open and Peter came running out. Excuse me. Something that looked like Peter came running out. He was dressed in too-tight green-and-magenta leggings and an outlandish tunic covered in flowers. ("My EYES!" cried Peter.)

If the group on the battlements thought the situation was bad before, it was unimaginably worse now. The thing that looked like Peter dropped to his knees in front of the Eyesore.

"My darlingeth!" He blubbered, "From whenceth hasteth thouest comesteth? Whateth isteth thine fair namesteth?"

The real Peter choked. "What is your WHAT?"

The Eyesore elegantly screeched, "Mu anme si Sophia Liliana Margarina Ravenlocks!1 liek, peeteyweetey, teka em sinide teh casl!"

Peeteyweetey immediately swooned at his beloved's feet. "Sure, cutey!"

"o peeteyweetey, due u relly luv me/

"yeh luv i du

"then mabe latter we coud..." And she raised her eyebrow (carefully plucked, of course) suggestively.

It took Peter a full thirty seconds to understand just what she wanted him to do. "Now, by the Mane, that hussy has gone too far!" he spat out wrathfully. "Edmund, come with me. I have a plan."

Just a weird idea I had a while ago. Enjoy!