Hello to those who might be reading our story! Mickeylover is taking a wee break from her writing, so you'll have to deal with two chapters in a row from me, Wisher. Here we go:
Chapter 12:
Queenie and Eugenia marched toward New Orleans Square. Queenie knocked people aside with her gigantic skirt while Eugenia followed behind, hoping the punishment of the White Rabbit would not take too long since she had a hot date planned with Barbossa for that night. They were supposed to go to a movie of her choosing (although Barby secretly loved chick flicks) and then have a candlelit dinner at the Blue Bayou. Eugenia closed her eyes and dreamed of Barbossa... oh, that beard... those yellowed eyes... that hat with it's scraggly purple feather...
"EUGENIA!"
Eugenia's eyes snapped open and she saw the Queen glowering at her.
"Stop daydreaming! We have work to do!"
"But, Queenie, dear," Eugenia sighed, "Cruella's left us, anyway... surely we don't need to keep on doing her dirty work for her?"
"I have been wanting to get my hands on that dratted rabbit for some time. This is a perfect excuse."
"But we told Roger we were going to help him."
Queenie stepped close to Eugenia and gave her a withering, hideous look as only Queenie could.
"Are you a villainess or not, Eugenia?" she hissed.
Eugenia nodded. Of course she was! After all, she had abused Cinderella to the best of her ability and had sent a hitman after her when the dratted girl had become a princess. But the hitman had been killed himself by the royal gaurds, and Eugenia's plans had been foiled. Hardly anyone knew about this incident, surprisingly. Queenie did, however, and knew that Eugenia needed to take her fury out on someone.
"Then let's find the runt and... OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"
Eugenia jumped and stared at Queenie, who was twitching. Oh, dear, not again. The Queen sometimes had a bit of trouble with her train of thought, spouting off random Wonderlandish quips. If this went on, it was going to be a long day.
"Roger said he was in the Dream Suite," Eugenia said and looked up to find that they were now at the steps to the said Suite.
Queenie nodded, charged forward, and pushed her way up the stairs, which was no easy task since her skirt was so large. Eugenia followed and they stood at a window to the Suite.
"How are we going to get in, it's-" Eugenia began, but was cut off when Queenie simply bashed the window with her beefy fist, causing it to shatter.
"IT'S MY UNBIRTHDAY!" Queenie roared as she crawled inside.
Eugenia followed with a bit of a sigh. They weren't being particularly stealthy about this. Once they were inside, Queenie barrelled off towards a bedroom to search for the White Rabbit while Eugenia peered into the main room. Low and behold, upon the blue velvet sofa sat...
Gaston...?
___________________________________
Meanwhile, back inside the Haunted Mansion, Hatter seemed to feel the cold fingers of Death at his heart. His own fingers automatically went to his pocket to touch the little silver teapot that he always carried with him. Just the thought of tea was something of a comfort as he stared into the face of Captain Gore.
"The Hatbox Ghost is sure to be particularly fond of you," Gore said, "He loves hats."
Hatter swayed on the spot. Gore smirked... what a delight it was to toy with foolish mortals. But then Gore recalled that he had once been a mortal himself, with a foolish heart. He sighed and wondered if Wisher needed to give more details, or if her dear readers already knew the tragic tale of the Haunted Mansion's past. Gore assumed they did for the time being.
"I... I don't want to..." Hatter began timidly.
"Don't want to join us?" Gore finished for him, "I'm afraid that is too bad. We already have a room set up for you. It's a bit crowded... full of old junk. But your roommate is lovely."
"R-roommate?" Hatter squeaked.
"Yes. I haven't spoken to her for years, but her name is Priscilla. Some say it's Constance. I suppose she changed her name, the viper."
"Mon dieu," Lumiere murmured again, as he came to the realization that Hatter would be rooming with none other than Gore's wife.
"You'll be staying in the attic," Gore continued, ignoring Lumiere's comment, "There's even a piano up there."
Hatter couldn't even respond anymore. His knees were shaking so badly that it was all he could do to stand up, let alone speak. But he was not prepared for Gore's next observation:
"I see you're still a mortal. Well, bit inconvinient, but we can fix that."
"Wh-what?" Hatter managed.
"You'll have to die, of course. You can't be a ghost without dying first," Gore said logically.
Hatter promptly passed out, sending Lumiere flying across the cold floor. His candles were blown out and they were all bathed in darkness again. Gore sighed.
"Mortals," he grumbled.
- Wisher
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