Fic: Thursday's Toast
Jun. 27th, 2020 12:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapi posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmes_minorTitle: Thursday's Toast
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: For the monthly prompt. Use of the British Navy toast of the day. Quotes/plot points taken from the film The Princess Bride [1987].
Summary: Holmes in disguise as Seaman Basil faces a Vizzini-esque villain on a ship.
Holmes raised his mug, a crude tin vessel, and said with a worldly smile, “To a bloody war.”
His adversary across the cribbage board mirrored the gesture and the smile. “Or a sickly season.”
Each hesitated, watching the other, mugs suspended.
“It is to be lamented that such scenarios, a bloody war or a sickly season, are the only ones in which seamen like ourselves, Mister Spur, men of iron and spit and brine, men who aren’t afraid to get our hands and our blades dirty, can get what’s owed ‘em.”
“Really? I don’t see it as a pity. It’s the natural order of things, Mister Basil. The weak perish, the strong survive.”
“The wicked, you mean.” Holmes’s eyes were hard as flint. “The kind that cheat and kill and take what they want without regard for the consequences.”
“Of course.”
“Of course, you know what God says.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure, Mister Basil. Tell me, what exactly does God say?”
“Take what you want and pay for it. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Never taking their eyes from each other, they drank.
“I thought you were clever, Mister Basil. Oh, yes, I did, but I was wrong.” Spur cackled. “You fell victim to one of the most classic blunders, Mister Basil. Oh, yes, you did!”
“I have never attempted a land war in Asia, Mister Spur.” The last word was garbled as Holmes’s face fell sober and pale. Then his eyes grew round and frightened. He put a hand to his own throat and gaped open-mouthed like a fish out of water.
“No, Mister Basil, not that one. The one that says you should never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!”
Holmes gasped and lurched forward with flailing hand. Playing cards, mugs, cribbage board and pegs spilled to the floor.
“You. Are. Not. Sicilian.”
There was a roar of laughter, and the flash of a blade. “No, Mister Basil, but my knife is! And she has not failed me yet.” The laughter became a mirthless chuckle. “I put iocaine powder in both our mugs. I have spent the last several years developing an immunity.”
Holmes almost reached the floor when he looked up sharply. “So have I. Which is why I added nyocaine. Don’t worry. It’s only a powerful sedative when combined with iocaine.”
“Arrrgh!”
Two thumps sounded in succession. The first was Spur collapsing to the floor, the second was one side of a large crate in the corner falling open, revealing a familiar but cramped figure.
“Quick, Watson!” said Holmes. “You get the key from his neck. I’ll copy the coordinates and clues tattooed on his chest. Then we’ll store him in your admirable hiding place. We need to make our escape in the dinghy before he wakes up. Oh, and Watson?”
“Yes?”
“Take his knife, too.”
“Very well.”
“He’s right. You should never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line. Better to have it on our side.”
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: For the monthly prompt. Use of the British Navy toast of the day. Quotes/plot points taken from the film The Princess Bride [1987].
Summary: Holmes in disguise as Seaman Basil faces a Vizzini-esque villain on a ship.
Holmes raised his mug, a crude tin vessel, and said with a worldly smile, “To a bloody war.”
His adversary across the cribbage board mirrored the gesture and the smile. “Or a sickly season.”
Each hesitated, watching the other, mugs suspended.
“It is to be lamented that such scenarios, a bloody war or a sickly season, are the only ones in which seamen like ourselves, Mister Spur, men of iron and spit and brine, men who aren’t afraid to get our hands and our blades dirty, can get what’s owed ‘em.”
“Really? I don’t see it as a pity. It’s the natural order of things, Mister Basil. The weak perish, the strong survive.”
“The wicked, you mean.” Holmes’s eyes were hard as flint. “The kind that cheat and kill and take what they want without regard for the consequences.”
“Of course.”
“Of course, you know what God says.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure, Mister Basil. Tell me, what exactly does God say?”
“Take what you want and pay for it. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Never taking their eyes from each other, they drank.
“I thought you were clever, Mister Basil. Oh, yes, I did, but I was wrong.” Spur cackled. “You fell victim to one of the most classic blunders, Mister Basil. Oh, yes, you did!”
“I have never attempted a land war in Asia, Mister Spur.” The last word was garbled as Holmes’s face fell sober and pale. Then his eyes grew round and frightened. He put a hand to his own throat and gaped open-mouthed like a fish out of water.
“No, Mister Basil, not that one. The one that says you should never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!”
Holmes gasped and lurched forward with flailing hand. Playing cards, mugs, cribbage board and pegs spilled to the floor.
“You. Are. Not. Sicilian.”
There was a roar of laughter, and the flash of a blade. “No, Mister Basil, but my knife is! And she has not failed me yet.” The laughter became a mirthless chuckle. “I put iocaine powder in both our mugs. I have spent the last several years developing an immunity.”
Holmes almost reached the floor when he looked up sharply. “So have I. Which is why I added nyocaine. Don’t worry. It’s only a powerful sedative when combined with iocaine.”
“Arrrgh!”
Two thumps sounded in succession. The first was Spur collapsing to the floor, the second was one side of a large crate in the corner falling open, revealing a familiar but cramped figure.
“Quick, Watson!” said Holmes. “You get the key from his neck. I’ll copy the coordinates and clues tattooed on his chest. Then we’ll store him in your admirable hiding place. We need to make our escape in the dinghy before he wakes up. Oh, and Watson?”
“Yes?”
“Take his knife, too.”
“Very well.”
“He’s right. You should never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line. Better to have it on our side.”
no subject
Date: 2020-06-27 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-27 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-27 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-27 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-30 09:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-30 12:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-03 10:50 pm (UTC)I’m obsessed with the Princess Bride and I was reading those classic lines in the other characters voices.
Hmmm. Holmes could pull a Wesley and wear a mask...
no subject
Date: 2020-07-04 03:12 am (UTC)The poetry page is about wearing masks, too, so perhaps I shall pick that up later if I get around to it.