Frogboy_Lives
Stabbifies When Cranky
Syd Red and the Seven Agents
Disclaimer- I don't own Alias, nor do I own Snow White, I am insane, you have been warned.
A/N- Me likee feedback.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once upon a time there was a magical kingdom, ruled by King Jack and Queen Laura of the House of Bristow. One day as Queen Laura was working in her doctoral thesis, she got a paper-cut on her thumb and several drops of blood fell on the page.
“Oh, how I wish for a baby girl.” Queen Laura sighed, for she had been rather clucky of late, “with skin as fair as this paper, hair like this ink and her father’s ears.”
And lo, in due course Queen Laura fell pregnant and gave birth to a little girl, with skin fair as paper, hair like ink and ears like King Jack’s. Unfortunately, Queen Laura had started marking undergraduate term papers soon after her ‘fair as paper, hair like ink statement’ and so the little princess was not the jet black of the queen’s writing ink, but the bright bozo red of her marking ink.
However, King Jack and Queen Laura were not so shallow to believe a person’s worth was based purely on their looks and loved Princess Sydney, who was a bright, bubbly child, deeply.
Sadly when Sydney was six, Queen Laura died in a tragic accident when her carriage fell of the side of a bridge. Well, actually Queen Laura was Lady Irina of Derevko, a spy from a foreign kingdom sent to gather intel on King Jack (who at the time was Prince Jack), and had been extracted by her superiors, but nobody actually knew this at the time.
Queen Laura’s death drove King Jack into a deep depression, causing him to neglect Princess Sydney (even though he loved her deeply), and leave much of her upbringing to Duchess Emily, the wife of his best friend, Arvin, the Duke of Sloane. When Sydney was sixteen, he went on quest to ‘find himself’ and entrusted her care to Duke Arvin.
This was a bad idea, because unknown to King Jack, Duke Sloane was a complete and utter nutcase. Many years ago, he had come into the possession of a magical artefact, the 47th Page of Rambaldi. Every morning he would splash the 47th Page with liquid from the Vial of Rambaldi and chant the following verse.
“47th Page of Rambaldi.
Who will realise the Prophecy?”
And invariably the words “YOU WILL” would appear on the Page.
This state of affairs continued until the morning of Sydney’s seventeenth birthday. When Duke Sloane splashed the liquid from the Vial of Rambaldi on the 47th Page of Rambaldi, after chanting the verse, the following message appeared “PRINCESS SYDNEY”.
Duke Sloane was more than a touch annoyed by this and immediately made plans to off Princess Sydney. He called Sydney in to see him.
“Hello Uncle Arvie.” Princess Sydney skipped into the room. She had grown from a bright and bubbly child into a highly intelligent and capable young woman. Her fair skin had taken on a slight tan from hours spent engaged in healthy outdoor activities, her bright bozo red hair was cut in a fashionable yet sensible cut, and still as red as ever, and she now had a large measure of King Jack’s temper to go with his ears. “You wanted to see me.”
Duke Sloane grinned, “Sydney dear, as it’s your birthday I think you should celebrate with a picnic in the woods.”
“Yay!” Cried Sydney, dancing in place “when are we going to go?”
“Oh, I’m much to busy to go.” Duke Sloane answered, beaming insincerely. “But the Court Dentist is more than happy to take you.”
“Okay.” Sydney ran out of the room, in search of the Court Dentist. Duke Sloane briefly wondered how someone as intelligent as Princess Sydney could be that naïve.
~~~
Soon Princess Sydney and the Court Dentist were deep in the woods, suddenly the Court Dentist leapt at Sydney brandishing a pair of tooth extractors. Luckily, King Jack didn’t hold with sexist ideas of female behaviour and had ensured that Sydney had a full grounding in several martial art schools, and the Court Dentist was promptly subdued.
“Your pardon, Highness.” The Court Dentist yelped as Sydney’s foot placed pressure on his trachea. “I was under orders from Duke Sloane.”
Sydney was perplexed, “Why would Uncle Arvie want to kill me?”
“I don’t know,” the Court Dentist babbled, “but I think it would be best for both of us if you faked your death.”
~~~
Princess Sydney fled deep into the woods, eventually stumbling across a small yet hi-tech Operations Centre. Using her well-developed lock-picking skills to break in, Sydney surveyed the Ops Centre.
“Ick! What a pig-sty!” she declared and because she was something of a neat-freak, Sydney proceeded to tidy the Ops Centre.
Now the Ops Centre was home to the CIA-FBI Joint Task Force. The CIA-FBI Joint Task Force (or JFT as it was known to those scribes who didn’t wish to develop Carpal Tunnel Syndrome) consisted of seven agents named Dixon, Marshall, Weiss, Carrie, Kendall, Sark and Dopey…uh…Lauren.
That night, they returned to the Ops Centre after a long and arduous mission to find Princess Sydney in the midst of cleaning up. Being the well trained agents that they were, they all reacted as anyone would upon finding a stranger in their secret Operations Centre. They attacked Sydney en masse (except for Lauren, who somehow managed to trip on the perfectly flat floor and knock herself out).
Let’s just say that what Princess Sydney did wasn’t pretty.
After having their collective behinds handed to them by a seventeen-year-old, the agents decided that a change in tactics was called for.
“Huddle!” called Dixon and Kendall simultaneously.
And huddle the agents did.
“Give me options, people.”
“Recruit her, she’s hot.”
“We don’t know anything about her.”
“Well, we know she’s five foot nine, has brown eyes and bozo-red hair and can kick our assets.”
“I’m not so sure about this.”
“You let Lauren join.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice there; her father did pay for the Ops Centre.”
“C’mon, what have we got to lose?”
“So we’re agreed?”
“Agreed.”
And thus Princess Sydney joined the agents of the JFT.
~~~
Meanwhile, the Court Dentist had waylaid a travelling scribe by the name of Will and presented his teeth to Duke Sloane, who had them made into a rather attractive set of cuff-links. However the ruse didn’t last very long as the very next day, Duke Sloane checked the 47th page of Rambaldi.
“47th Page of Rambaldi.
Who will realise the Prophecy?”
And once again the message appeared “PRINCESS SYDNEY”.
“What?” shrieked Duke Sloane, “Princess Sydney is dead! I have her teeth right here”
“NOPE” stated the page “THAT DENTITION BELONGS TO WILL OF TIPPIN”
Duke Sloane was furious. He stalked the halls of the castle plotting his revenge After several weeks he realised that having some concrete information on the current status of Princess Sydney would probably help matters some.
“47th Page of Rambaldi,
Spill the beans on Princess Sydney”
“SHE IS IN THE OPERATIONS CENTRE OF THE CIA-FBI JOINT TASK FORCE”
“Excellent.” Crowed Duke Sloane as he raced from the room. If the 47th Page had been a person it would have started counting under its breath.
“47th Page of Rambaldi,
Where is the Operations Centre of the CIA-FBI Joint Task Force?”
~~~
Princess Sydney kicked idly at the wall of the Ops Centre, as she was technically still “In Training”, she wasn’t allowed to go on their latest mission, although Dixon had muttered something about “losing Blondie the first chance we get” as he left. Thus Sydney was all alone when the old woman showed up.
“Hello Dearie.” The rather hirsute old woman rasped. Now it would have been blatantly obvious to practically anyone that the “old woman” was in fact Duke Sloane in drag, but Princess Sydney could be mind-meltingly dense at times.
“Hello,” the blissfully oblivious Sydney chirped. “Would you like some water for your throat?”
“Thank you Dearie, I already have just the thing for a sore throat.” With a flourish Duke Sloane produced a shiny red apple. “Would you like some?”
“Thanks, but I’d better not.” After all Sydney did have enough brain-cells not to take fruit from strangers.
“Now Dearie, it’s perfectly harmless.” Taking a big bite, Duke Sloane muttered “For me, at least.”
Seeing that nothing untoward had happened to the old woman, Sydney smiled “Well, okay.”
Of course the reason nothing untoward had happened to Sloane was that he had coated the apple in a bio-toxin genetically tailored to Princess Sydney and thus when she took a nibble, she fell down in a deep coma.
Sloane would have made sure that Sydney was really dead this time, except for the fortuitous arrival of the seven agents. Hearing them in the near distance, he decided that discretion was the better part of valour and took to his heels.
Upon the sight of Sydney’s apparently lifeless form, a great wailing and gnashing of teeth arose from the agents. They immediately began the construction of a mighty monument to the Princess, which was quickly changed to the construction of a mighty hospital when one of Marshall’s many gadgets registered the presence of Sydney’s vital signs. After transferring Sydney to the hospital, they settled in for a long wait.
“Hello.” A voice broke into the agents’ watchful vigil. Looking up they saw a young man standing at the door of the Ops Centre/Mighty Hospital. “Uh, I’m Vaughn the new transf- hey, who’s the bozo-haired babe?”
“That’s Sydney,” Marshall replied, “she’s a princess, but someone poisoned her, but she didn’t die, she’s just in a really deep coma and… hey, her brainwaves just spiked.”
The comatose Sydney was not the only one Vaughn had an effect on.
“He’s purty.” Lauren breathed, a small puddle of drool forming where she stood, while Carrie kept muttering “Carrying Marshall’s baby, carrying Marshall’s baby…” to herself.
“I have an idea. If Vaughn’s mere presence has an effect on Sydney, what would happen if closer contact occurred?”
“You mean if he kissed her…”
“…Sydney might wake up!”
“There’s a chance.”
“He’s purty…” Lauren gurgled as she drowned in her own saliva and expired.
Vaughn, entranced by Princess Sydney, scarcely needed pushing by the remaining agents to kiss her. The medical monitors beeped then exploded in a flurry of sparks as Sydney woke up.
“Wow.”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY DAUGHTER!?!” came both a masculine and feminine roar from the open doorway.
“Daddy! Mommy!” yelped Sydney joyfully.
“Eep!” yelped Vaughn fearfully.
For King Jack, having found not only himself but also Queen Laura/Irina on his journey (an epic tale in itself, but not suitable to be related to children), had decided to short-cut through the forest on his way home and the pair had stumbled upon the Ops Centre. Neither looked happy at the sight which greeted them.
~~~
Back at the castle, Duke Sloane happily splashed the 47th Page of Rambaldi.
“47th Page of Rambaldi.
Who will realise the Prophecy?”
“KING JACK AND QUEEN IRINA”
“What the…?”
“DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU TO ASK WHAT THE PROPHECY ACTUALLY WAS?”
“Um, 47th Page of Rambaldi.
What is the Prophecy?”
“KING JACK AND QUEEN IRINA SHALL KICK YOUR BUTT FOR TRYING TO KILL THEIR DAUGHTER WHEN THEY GET HOME. WHICH SHOULD BE” A great many trumpets sounded in the courtyard. “ABOUT NOW.”
Duke Sloane started running, knocking the Vial of Rambaldi over as he went.
“LOL”
~the end~
Disclaimer- I don't own Alias, nor do I own Snow White, I am insane, you have been warned.
A/N- Me likee feedback.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once upon a time there was a magical kingdom, ruled by King Jack and Queen Laura of the House of Bristow. One day as Queen Laura was working in her doctoral thesis, she got a paper-cut on her thumb and several drops of blood fell on the page.
“Oh, how I wish for a baby girl.” Queen Laura sighed, for she had been rather clucky of late, “with skin as fair as this paper, hair like this ink and her father’s ears.”
And lo, in due course Queen Laura fell pregnant and gave birth to a little girl, with skin fair as paper, hair like ink and ears like King Jack’s. Unfortunately, Queen Laura had started marking undergraduate term papers soon after her ‘fair as paper, hair like ink statement’ and so the little princess was not the jet black of the queen’s writing ink, but the bright bozo red of her marking ink.
However, King Jack and Queen Laura were not so shallow to believe a person’s worth was based purely on their looks and loved Princess Sydney, who was a bright, bubbly child, deeply.
Sadly when Sydney was six, Queen Laura died in a tragic accident when her carriage fell of the side of a bridge. Well, actually Queen Laura was Lady Irina of Derevko, a spy from a foreign kingdom sent to gather intel on King Jack (who at the time was Prince Jack), and had been extracted by her superiors, but nobody actually knew this at the time.
Queen Laura’s death drove King Jack into a deep depression, causing him to neglect Princess Sydney (even though he loved her deeply), and leave much of her upbringing to Duchess Emily, the wife of his best friend, Arvin, the Duke of Sloane. When Sydney was sixteen, he went on quest to ‘find himself’ and entrusted her care to Duke Arvin.
This was a bad idea, because unknown to King Jack, Duke Sloane was a complete and utter nutcase. Many years ago, he had come into the possession of a magical artefact, the 47th Page of Rambaldi. Every morning he would splash the 47th Page with liquid from the Vial of Rambaldi and chant the following verse.
“47th Page of Rambaldi.
Who will realise the Prophecy?”
And invariably the words “YOU WILL” would appear on the Page.
This state of affairs continued until the morning of Sydney’s seventeenth birthday. When Duke Sloane splashed the liquid from the Vial of Rambaldi on the 47th Page of Rambaldi, after chanting the verse, the following message appeared “PRINCESS SYDNEY”.
Duke Sloane was more than a touch annoyed by this and immediately made plans to off Princess Sydney. He called Sydney in to see him.
“Hello Uncle Arvie.” Princess Sydney skipped into the room. She had grown from a bright and bubbly child into a highly intelligent and capable young woman. Her fair skin had taken on a slight tan from hours spent engaged in healthy outdoor activities, her bright bozo red hair was cut in a fashionable yet sensible cut, and still as red as ever, and she now had a large measure of King Jack’s temper to go with his ears. “You wanted to see me.”
Duke Sloane grinned, “Sydney dear, as it’s your birthday I think you should celebrate with a picnic in the woods.”
“Yay!” Cried Sydney, dancing in place “when are we going to go?”
“Oh, I’m much to busy to go.” Duke Sloane answered, beaming insincerely. “But the Court Dentist is more than happy to take you.”
“Okay.” Sydney ran out of the room, in search of the Court Dentist. Duke Sloane briefly wondered how someone as intelligent as Princess Sydney could be that naïve.
~~~
Soon Princess Sydney and the Court Dentist were deep in the woods, suddenly the Court Dentist leapt at Sydney brandishing a pair of tooth extractors. Luckily, King Jack didn’t hold with sexist ideas of female behaviour and had ensured that Sydney had a full grounding in several martial art schools, and the Court Dentist was promptly subdued.
“Your pardon, Highness.” The Court Dentist yelped as Sydney’s foot placed pressure on his trachea. “I was under orders from Duke Sloane.”
Sydney was perplexed, “Why would Uncle Arvie want to kill me?”
“I don’t know,” the Court Dentist babbled, “but I think it would be best for both of us if you faked your death.”
~~~
Princess Sydney fled deep into the woods, eventually stumbling across a small yet hi-tech Operations Centre. Using her well-developed lock-picking skills to break in, Sydney surveyed the Ops Centre.
“Ick! What a pig-sty!” she declared and because she was something of a neat-freak, Sydney proceeded to tidy the Ops Centre.
Now the Ops Centre was home to the CIA-FBI Joint Task Force. The CIA-FBI Joint Task Force (or JFT as it was known to those scribes who didn’t wish to develop Carpal Tunnel Syndrome) consisted of seven agents named Dixon, Marshall, Weiss, Carrie, Kendall, Sark and Dopey…uh…Lauren.
That night, they returned to the Ops Centre after a long and arduous mission to find Princess Sydney in the midst of cleaning up. Being the well trained agents that they were, they all reacted as anyone would upon finding a stranger in their secret Operations Centre. They attacked Sydney en masse (except for Lauren, who somehow managed to trip on the perfectly flat floor and knock herself out).
Let’s just say that what Princess Sydney did wasn’t pretty.
After having their collective behinds handed to them by a seventeen-year-old, the agents decided that a change in tactics was called for.
“Huddle!” called Dixon and Kendall simultaneously.
And huddle the agents did.
“Give me options, people.”
“Recruit her, she’s hot.”
“We don’t know anything about her.”
“Well, we know she’s five foot nine, has brown eyes and bozo-red hair and can kick our assets.”
“I’m not so sure about this.”
“You let Lauren join.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice there; her father did pay for the Ops Centre.”
“C’mon, what have we got to lose?”
“So we’re agreed?”
“Agreed.”
And thus Princess Sydney joined the agents of the JFT.
~~~
Meanwhile, the Court Dentist had waylaid a travelling scribe by the name of Will and presented his teeth to Duke Sloane, who had them made into a rather attractive set of cuff-links. However the ruse didn’t last very long as the very next day, Duke Sloane checked the 47th page of Rambaldi.
“47th Page of Rambaldi.
Who will realise the Prophecy?”
And once again the message appeared “PRINCESS SYDNEY”.
“What?” shrieked Duke Sloane, “Princess Sydney is dead! I have her teeth right here”
“NOPE” stated the page “THAT DENTITION BELONGS TO WILL OF TIPPIN”
Duke Sloane was furious. He stalked the halls of the castle plotting his revenge After several weeks he realised that having some concrete information on the current status of Princess Sydney would probably help matters some.
“47th Page of Rambaldi,
Spill the beans on Princess Sydney”
“SHE IS IN THE OPERATIONS CENTRE OF THE CIA-FBI JOINT TASK FORCE”
“Excellent.” Crowed Duke Sloane as he raced from the room. If the 47th Page had been a person it would have started counting under its breath.
“47th Page of Rambaldi,
Where is the Operations Centre of the CIA-FBI Joint Task Force?”
~~~
Princess Sydney kicked idly at the wall of the Ops Centre, as she was technically still “In Training”, she wasn’t allowed to go on their latest mission, although Dixon had muttered something about “losing Blondie the first chance we get” as he left. Thus Sydney was all alone when the old woman showed up.
“Hello Dearie.” The rather hirsute old woman rasped. Now it would have been blatantly obvious to practically anyone that the “old woman” was in fact Duke Sloane in drag, but Princess Sydney could be mind-meltingly dense at times.
“Hello,” the blissfully oblivious Sydney chirped. “Would you like some water for your throat?”
“Thank you Dearie, I already have just the thing for a sore throat.” With a flourish Duke Sloane produced a shiny red apple. “Would you like some?”
“Thanks, but I’d better not.” After all Sydney did have enough brain-cells not to take fruit from strangers.
“Now Dearie, it’s perfectly harmless.” Taking a big bite, Duke Sloane muttered “For me, at least.”
Seeing that nothing untoward had happened to the old woman, Sydney smiled “Well, okay.”
Of course the reason nothing untoward had happened to Sloane was that he had coated the apple in a bio-toxin genetically tailored to Princess Sydney and thus when she took a nibble, she fell down in a deep coma.
Sloane would have made sure that Sydney was really dead this time, except for the fortuitous arrival of the seven agents. Hearing them in the near distance, he decided that discretion was the better part of valour and took to his heels.
Upon the sight of Sydney’s apparently lifeless form, a great wailing and gnashing of teeth arose from the agents. They immediately began the construction of a mighty monument to the Princess, which was quickly changed to the construction of a mighty hospital when one of Marshall’s many gadgets registered the presence of Sydney’s vital signs. After transferring Sydney to the hospital, they settled in for a long wait.
“Hello.” A voice broke into the agents’ watchful vigil. Looking up they saw a young man standing at the door of the Ops Centre/Mighty Hospital. “Uh, I’m Vaughn the new transf- hey, who’s the bozo-haired babe?”
“That’s Sydney,” Marshall replied, “she’s a princess, but someone poisoned her, but she didn’t die, she’s just in a really deep coma and… hey, her brainwaves just spiked.”
The comatose Sydney was not the only one Vaughn had an effect on.
“He’s purty.” Lauren breathed, a small puddle of drool forming where she stood, while Carrie kept muttering “Carrying Marshall’s baby, carrying Marshall’s baby…” to herself.
“I have an idea. If Vaughn’s mere presence has an effect on Sydney, what would happen if closer contact occurred?”
“You mean if he kissed her…”
“…Sydney might wake up!”
“There’s a chance.”
“He’s purty…” Lauren gurgled as she drowned in her own saliva and expired.
Vaughn, entranced by Princess Sydney, scarcely needed pushing by the remaining agents to kiss her. The medical monitors beeped then exploded in a flurry of sparks as Sydney woke up.
“Wow.”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY DAUGHTER!?!” came both a masculine and feminine roar from the open doorway.
“Daddy! Mommy!” yelped Sydney joyfully.
“Eep!” yelped Vaughn fearfully.
For King Jack, having found not only himself but also Queen Laura/Irina on his journey (an epic tale in itself, but not suitable to be related to children), had decided to short-cut through the forest on his way home and the pair had stumbled upon the Ops Centre. Neither looked happy at the sight which greeted them.
~~~
Back at the castle, Duke Sloane happily splashed the 47th Page of Rambaldi.
“47th Page of Rambaldi.
Who will realise the Prophecy?”
“KING JACK AND QUEEN IRINA”
“What the…?”
“DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU TO ASK WHAT THE PROPHECY ACTUALLY WAS?”
“Um, 47th Page of Rambaldi.
What is the Prophecy?”
“KING JACK AND QUEEN IRINA SHALL KICK YOUR BUTT FOR TRYING TO KILL THEIR DAUGHTER WHEN THEY GET HOME. WHICH SHOULD BE” A great many trumpets sounded in the courtyard. “ABOUT NOW.”
Duke Sloane started running, knocking the Vial of Rambaldi over as he went.
“LOL”
~the end~
