Oh Brother, WHAT Are Thou?
Posted December 21, 2007
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Waramon: Tancredi, why the long face? It is Christmas, Joyeux Noel! Santa Claus will surely shun you for that sour puss.
Tancredi: Eet ees supposed to be a ‘appy time of the year, weez famille and ze lov-ed ones surrounding – but mine are not ici…
Persephone: **writing to MJ**… Be grateful you are not related to, or have around your domicile, a moping Frenchman. It is most definitely not on Martha Stewart’s holiday decorating list…
Waramon: Hmmm, I thought WE were related to you, as well – have I been laboring under a delusion all these years, then? Persephone, is this some very elaborate joke of Father’s?
Persephone: You know our father doesn’t have the capacity to mastermind such a joke – it is all purely accidental. The album you peruse is proof of that.
Waramon: Oh, there’s a relief, then! See, Tancredi, what good times we had when we were just lads. Your Maman roasted chestnuts, and our Mummy drank all the port and sherry. How I love this old album, capturing it all for posterity. Oh, and see Hippolyte there, in the tree –
Tancredi: Oui, zat lee-tle oiseau -- al-weez weez ze sweet an’ dreamy ways… where ‘as ‘e got to… just as ma belle E’Clair an’ ma petite jeune fille zey are not ‘ere for moi. For why deed zey ‘ave to go back to Mam’zell Clara’s – why could zey not wait un-teel af-ter ze holi-days? Cru-el, cru-el wo-man.
Persephone: I thought it was cruel to have brought them HERE in the first place.
Tancredi: Mock me all you weel, but wheen you’ave ze true be-loved ‘oo ees taken a-way from you, you shall be sing-ing ze dif-ferent chanson!
Persephone: Heaven forfend that we should have to hear any of your singing – or Waramon’s, for that matter. It is the one proof you are brothers; there isn’t a big enough bucket for you to carry a tune together, Jack and Jacques.
Waramon: And ‘tis more the pity I couldn’t have just one more gift to add to my list of qualities – it would truly be an embarrassment of riches! I think the gods passed it along to you for safekeeping, Persephone *smile*.
Hippolyte: I be-lieve He did, dear frere Wara-mon. Our petite soeur guards it so well, I ‘ave not heard her sing in years.
Tancredi: Zat voice – ees eet -- ?
Waramon: It IS! My, my, Hippolyte – we were just speaking of times past and of you in them. To what do we owe this serendipitous visit?
Persephone: As if we cannot put two and two together, and end up with multiples. Once again, Ms. Beamlette has flung open her doors to yet another of us. Did you seek, or were you sought after?
Tancredi: Ah, lee-tle frere – pourquoi are you dressed as ze re-ligious? Deed Mees Beamlette breeng you ‘ere to save our souls? You ‘ave gone from be-ing ma bro-ther to ze frere de tout le monde!
Waramon: How lovely to know that Ms. Beamlette has not given up on we heathens and hedonists yet! Inappropriate as this may sound, you look ravissant in those vestments, Hippolyte. Uniforms DO make the man.
Persephone: By now Ms. Beamlette is well aware of what a lost cause we all are, so I doubt Hippolyte is here for that purpose *arched eyebrow*.
Hippolyte: Persephone, she always know what is at the bot-tom of things, no? An’ Waramon, ‘e just to know bot-toms, period! Actuellement, I am ‘av-ing what they say, a crisis of the faith. I write to Maman, an’ ask where is Tan-credi, be-cause I wish to see ‘im. So, when she tell me of Ms. Beamlette, I know I must to come ‘ere. An’ a ‘appy sur-prise it is, that my half-brother and sister they are ‘ere aussi.
Tancredi: Zo, Maman, she keep zees a sur-prise zat you might be com-ing ‘ere… wheen deed you start your jour-ney to Mees Beamlette’s?
Hippolyte: Why, you know, I on-ly
Persephone: Ministering under false pretences – now that could be considered quite a trespass, don’t you think?
Hippolyte: Mais non, petite soeur they ‘ave the faith, that is all that counts… more than ‘ave I. That is why I come ‘ere, to find my-self an’ my best purpose, what-ever that may be.
**enter Sparrow sisters**
Buddha Girl: Eh, look, sisters – it SANTY CLAUS!
Angry Sparrow: He been on diet, den – didn’ know he s’pposed to be so skinny.
Tancredi: Eet ees les oiseaux petites sauvages, mon frere -- beware!
Buddha Girl: We gots BONE to pick wit you, Santy – you didn’ come see us last year. An’ don’ tink we fooled by you losin’ tonnage –
Angry Sparrow: Yeh – we know it you. We not fooled.
Hippolyte: *chuckling* Sor-ry, lit-tle bir-die girls, but I am NOT San-ta Claus – though I wish that I was, so I could make the amends. I could to speak with him on your behalf – ‘ow would you like that?
Buddha Girl: Hmmm… yeh. I see we get mix-up. You his son, I bet. Santy could never look dat good, even wit lipo.
Angry Sparrow: Yeh. We do mix-up. You son. Talk to daddy, den, for us.
Hippolyte: I am most flat-tered – although I cannot pro-mise that, I will to be sure that San-ta Claus bring you something ver-ry special this time, for ALL of you to en-joy *beaming*.
Buddha Girl: O-kay! You swell guy, Santy Son! Dat best ting we hear in long time!
Angry Sparrow: Yeh, best.
Hippolyte: An’ a very MER-RY CHRISTMAS to every-one, from the maison of Ms. Beamlette!
Tancredi: Oui, Joyeux Noel, from our ‘appy lee-tle famille, to yours!
Persephone: Yes, a most blessed and bountiful holiday season to all – resin and otherwise!
Waramon: Oh yes – bless us all! And Santa can bring me a copy of said photo, too, while he’s at it *grin*.
Strangely sweet… and the next story could be said to be that, too –
It’s the Gingerbread House of Horrors...
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