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ｍｒ． ｔｏａｄ (
2017-03-17 06:26 am (UTC)
mr. toad | adventures of ichabod and mr. toad/mr. toad's wild ride
I say, horsey,
Come on, come on!
[the horse in question happens to be incorporeal, and the cart he's attached to isn't so much a carriage as it is a very antiquated hearse. you know, the kind that's chilling right outside the mansion's entrance. and in the driver's seat is this little fellow, a toad in a waistcoat who isn't the slightest bit perturbed by the ghostly animal who, by the sound of things, isn't the least bit pleased by this arrangement. it's invisible, but the way the bit and bridle are moving suggests that it's shaking its head back and forth, which makes sense with all the snorting noises it's making.
not one to be discouraged, Toad continues to shake the reins and hop around in the driver's seat even as the horse lowers itself to the ground, stubbornly sitting still right where it is.]
...Oh poo. You're no fun.
[Toad frowns reproachfully, cupping his cheek with one hand as he thinks of ways to get the animal moving again.]
I don't have any carrots on me if
what you're demanding.
[the unthinkable has happened. the day of atonement has finally come. everyone, say your prayers and repent for your crimes because judgment is finally upon you.
Toad has managed to find a motor car. a motor car with gas.]
[the old timey honk of a horn echoes throughout the graveyard.]
Out of the way, nincompoops!
[now, don't ask how he got his hands on this instrument of death. maybe he managed to get one of the brainier living inhabitants of the mansion to cobble together an engine to install in the hearse outside. maybe he found it in whatever passes for a basement here in the mansion. maybe the Mastermind decided things weren't moving as quickly as they'd have hoped and got the bright idea to kill a few birds with one stone, talking or otherwise. either way, it's happening, it's here, and from the looks of things as Toad races through the graveyard in his car, he's not about to stop until a) he runs out of gas, or b) someone calls the cops to pull him over. the ghost cops.]
How'dya like THAT, spirits?!
[—said as he zooms past that one opera singer ghost, eliciting a very started shriek as she topples over, among other assorted gasps from a few nearby ghosts.]
Few are as frightening as the fearless Toad of Toad Hall! Toad, the undaunted! Toad, lord of the road!
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