Les Poissons (Lawrence version)

Inside the dining room table, Peter was standing near the window, looking out into the distance. While Big Daddy was seated at the large table, beginning to clean his pipe, Peter was waiting patiently for Wendy to arrive as he tried desperately to reason with the flying boy.

"Oh, Peter, be reasonable," said Big Daddy, feeling clearly amused while waving his pipe in the air. "Nice young ladies just don't - swim around rescuing people in the middle of the ocean and then - flutter off into oblivion, like some -"

Peter cut him off. "I'm tellin' you, Mr. LaBouff, she was REAL!" he said, "I'm gonna find that girl. And I'm gonna marry her." He put his left hand over his chin, gazing out the glass windows.

Suddenly, laughter was heard from behind him. He turned his head to see the lover with the waitress.

"Come on, honey." said a voice, "Don't be shy."

It was Tiana. She stood by the door frame, guiding the lover into the dining room.

Out of the shadows came Wendy.

Wendy was now wearing a sky-blue cotton Medieval-style off-the-shoulder dress with long arms, blue trimming and beadings, and floor-length skirt (similar to Merida's dress) with black boots. She was still wearing her hair ribbon.

This was a new look for Wendy, and she showed that she was being treated well by the servants.

Peter's eyes widened as Big Daddy walked up behind the boy.

"Oh, Peter, isn't she a vision?" asked Big Daddy.

The grin he had was never slipping off his face. Peter's mouth hung open. But he closed his mouth and swallowed, feeling somewhat nervous.

"You look - wonderful." Peter stammered.

Wendy, unable to say, "Thank you," replied with a gentle blush, she shrugged her shoulders, appreciating the nice comment, a smile on her face as her blue eyes looked up from behind her dirty-blonde curly ponytail.

Peter blushed a light pink as Big Daddy helped Peter into his chair, quite enthusiastic, but not before giving the young princess a light nudge. Peter pursed his lips, but grinned nonetheless.

"Come come come, you must be famished. Let me help you my dear. There we go - ah - quite comfy?"

He helped the princess into her seat. Peter tucked the chair under the table as the London-dwelling girl sat down.

"Uh, it's...it's not often that we have such a lovely dinner guest, eh, Peter?"

Wendy wasn't playing attention anymore. She was too intrigued by the glistening silver 'dinglehopper' resting on the table. With a wide smile, she picked up the shiny object and began brushing her hair with it. She looked up to face a confused Peter and a horrified Big Daddy. Wendy delicately placed the 'dinglehopper' back on the table and looked down in embarrassment.

She bit her lip and looked up as she saw Big Daddy using a lighter to ignite the coppery thing that Wendy understood as a 'snarfblatt'. Big Daddy kindly smiled at her, and handed her his pipe. "Uh, do you like it?" he asked, "It *is* a rather fine..."

Big Daddy stopped in mid-sentence when the London-dwelling girl blew into the pipe as if it was a trumpet, sending a cloud of smoke spurting out the top and straight into his face. Peter cracked up with laughter while Tiana gave a small giggle. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed.

Peter cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. "Ahem. I'm sorry, Mr. LaBouff."

Tiana smiled, placing a hand on the flying boy's shoulder. "Why, Peter," she said. "That's the first time I've seen you smile in weeks."

Wendy looked up from the table and smiled. "Oh, very amusing," said Big Daddy, as he used a handkerchief to wipe the last bit of smoke of his face and sniffed. "Tiana, my dear, what's for dinner?"

"Oooh, you're gonna love it!" Tiana smiled. "Chef's been fixing his specialty, stuffed dog!"

Dijon poked his head out from behind a sugar bowl and gasped upon seeing the chef of a French kitchen. He was a portly, short, fat, completely bald man with big ears and white sideburns. He wears a crimson waistcoat, cream gloves, a matching shirt, and spats on black shoes, a matching tailcoat, and pants, a white chef's hat, and a matching apron. His name was Lawrence, the French chef of the kitchen. Lawrence rummaged through a cupboard. Singing in French to himself, he hummed to himself as he took a basket of trout and putting one on a counter. With his food ready, the fat man chef started singing.

Lawrence: ***Les poissons***
***Les poissons***
*How I love **les poissons***
*Love to chop*
*And to serve little fish*

Grabbing the trout from the basket, Lawrence pulled out a cleaver and violently chopped off its head. This shocked Dijon horribly. Horrified that this was happening, Dijon hid his face.

Lawrence: *First I cut off their heads*
*Then I pull out the bones*
***Ah mais oui***
***Ca c'est toujours delish***

Taking out another trout, Lawrence took the cleaver and violently chopped off its head then proceeded to skin it and gut it while Dijon leaned against a wall and covered his mouth, feeling quite sick, feeling as if he may want to throw up.

Lawrence: ***Les poissons***
***Les poissons***
***Hee hee hee***
***Hah hah hah***
*With the cleaver I hack them in two*

Taking out another trout, Lawrence again chopped its head and then chopped the rest of the body into tiny pieces. Dijon tried getting away, but he found himself face to face with the trout's head.

Lawrence: *I pull out what's inside*
*And I serve it up fried*
**Cause'** I love little fishesDon't you?

After cutting the trout's head off, Lawrence pulled out the insides of the trout and cooked it on a frying pan before serving it on a plate.

Spotting a large lettuce leaf, Dijon grabbed the leaf and used it to disguise himself as he slowly scuttled away from an unsuspecting chef, who is too absorbed into his little *fish hacking mania* but Lawrence took a mallet and began smashing a tuna flat.

Lawrence: *Here's something for tempting the palate*
*Prepared in the classic technique*
*First you pound the fish flat with a mallet*

When Lawrence pounded the tuna flat with the mallet, Dijon flew off the counter along with other stuff on it. He hid again under the lettuce before hearing more gross stuff from Lawrence's preparations for the tuna.

Lawrence: *Then you slash through the skin*
*Give the belly a slice*
*Then you rub some salt in*
'*Cause that makes it taste nice*

When Lawrence was describing those horrid moves, Dijon cringed even more.

Just after Lawrence put the salt on he rather was holding the fish body close to his cheek, Dijon's worst fear was confirmed when the cook reached out and grabbed the lettuce leaf, leaving him exposed. The Arabic dog kept perfectly still as the chef gasped, "*Zut alors*!" exclaimed Lawrence, "I have missed one!" He picked up the 'dead' dog and continued singing,

Lawrence: ***Sacre bleu***
*What is this?*
*How on earth could I miss*
*Such a sweet little succulent dog?*
***Quel dommage***
*What a loss*
*Here we go*
*In the sauce*
*Now some flour*
*I think just a spurt*

Lawrence tossed Dijon into a bowl of sauce and threw a spot of flour in his face, making him cough and sneeze before pulling him out and stuffing some breadcrumbs in his mouth.

Lawrence: *Now I stuff you with bread*
*It don't hurt 'cause you're dead*
*And you're certainly lucky you are*

Dijon spat out the breadcrumbs and wheezed loudly. Lawrence didn't notice that the Arabic dog in his hand was still alive.

Lawrence: '*Cause it's gonna be hot*
*In my big silver pot*
*Toodle loo*
***Mon poisson***
***Au revoir!***

Lawrence threw Dijon across the room into a large pot of boiling water. Dijon held on to the inside of the pot before a bubble popped, burning him out of the pot and onto the counter with a loud thud.

Lawrence, hearing the 'thud', looked over to it being confused. He used a pitchfork-like utensil and stabs on either side of the Arabic dog, picking up Dijon and carefully inspected it. "What is this?" he asked. Dijon bit Lawrence's nose, making him scream in pain as he held his nose.

Dijon landed on the handle of a pan on the stove. Lawrence reached for the meerkat, but instead put his gloved-hand on the fiery hot stove. The chef screamed and blew on his hand as the pan fell onto his foot. Lawrence grabbed his foot and cried in pain, before sending Dijon an angry glare, grabbing a bunch of knives and hurling them at the Arabic dog.

Dijon, who ducked each knife, dove under the counter, and while the chef was looking under the counter, Dijon pushed the bowl of sauce off the counter. The bowl shattered on his head. Going more insane, Lawrence lifted his cleaver and brought it down. But all he managed to chop up was the counter.

He saw Dijon running for his life. Dijonn screamed as he tried getting out. The cleaver landed right in front of him, stopping him from running that way. He quickly made a mad dash underneath Lawrence and hid underneath a cabinet of glasses and pottery. Lawrence screamed, holding his mallet in his hand, Dijon hid as the psychotic chef jumped and crashed into the shelves.

Back in the dining room, everyone heard loud crashes coming from the kitchen.

Tiana, who was pouring drinks for the prince, Big Daddy, and their young guest, looked in the direction of the kitchen at the sound of a large crash. "I think I'd better go see what Lawrence is up to." she said. Once she had excused herself, she hurriedly made her way to the palace kitchen.

Back in the kitchen, the insane chef, ripped clothes and all, was tearing apart the cabinet, mindlessly throwing things out of the way trying to find Dijon. "Come out, you little pipsqueak, AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN!" he snarled. He continued to tear apart a cupboard.

"Lawrence!" shouted Tiana.

He shot up, banging his head on the shelf, causing several new pots and pans to fall or break on the floor, at the sound of Tiana's shrill voice. His coat and apron were torn and stained, his chef's hat was gone, and there was a hole in the elbow of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Tiana demanded.

Lawrence stammered about what he was doing earlier. "Well - I - I was just - er, er, I'm sorry, *madame*." he finally said. Tiana scowled at the fat man as he gave her an apologetic grin and pinched out a fire that had started on his sideburn.

Tiana picked up the plates - which all had a metal dome over the top - off a nearby bench, and storming out the kitchen. "Well, I never!" she exclaimed in disgust.

Big Daddy Lou set his glass back on the table as the Tiana placed their dinners in front of him, Wendy, and Peter. "You know, Peter," he said. "perhaps our young guest might enjoy seeing some of the sights of the kingdom. Something in the way of a tour?"

Peter simply sat there, staring at Wendy with a lovestruck expression on his face. Realizing that Big Daddy had said something to them, they snapped out of their daze. Peter let out a small chuckle and looked at Big Daddy. "I'm sorry, Big Daddy." he said, "What was that?"

Big Daddy leaned over to the flying boy and whispered, "You can't spend all your time moping about, you need to get out. Do something, have a life. Get your mind off-"

As Big Daddy complained, he opened his dish, and Dijon was huddled inside. Wendy noticed Dijon and became worried. Dijon quietly shushed the worried blonde-haired girl, who opened her dish and urged for Dijon to quickly hide in hers.

"Easy, Big Daddy, easy." said Peter, "It's not a bad idea. If she's interested."

As the two chatted, Peter quickly and quietly dashed across the table and hid in Wendy's dish. With Dijon safe, Wendy quickly turned to Peter.

"Well, what do you say?" asked Peter. "Would you like to join me on a tour of my kingdom tomorrow?"

Wendt nodded, genuinely excited by the prospect and also internally relieved.

"Wonderful!" beamed Big Daddy. "Now let's eat, before this dog wanders off my plate." He looked down, only to be confused that Dijon had just run off his plate.

Dinner got carried on into the evening long after the sun had set and afterwards, Wendy, Peter, and Big Daddy went their separate ways.

Wendy was now dressed in her nightclothes as she watched Peter play with Simba from the balcony.

Wendy was now wearing sky-blue pajamas that consists of an undershirt and pants.

"Come here boy!" Peter laughed to Simba, "Arrr!!!" He knelt on the ground and Simba ran up to him and called, "Here I come, Peter!" Peter growled playfully at the kitten as he pinned him down. He looked up and smiled when he saw that the London-dwelling girl he'd found on the beach that day, watching. Peter waved at Wendy, and she waved back, before slipping further back into her room. Peter's eyes sparkled as his smile widened. He was actually really looking forward to taking her around his kingdom tomorrow, and could only hope that she felt the same way.

Wendy smiled as she brushed her untied hair with her fork before putting her hair ribbon back in her hair. Dijon (who was now wearing a white undershirt and white underwear with red polka dots) complained about his experience in the kitchen as he cleaned off the cooking spices. "This has got to be, without a doubt, the single most humiliating day of my life." he complained.

Wendy patted Dijon on the head.

"I hope you appreciate what I go through for you, young lady!" scolded the Arabic dog, as he waved his lettuce leaf at Wendy while she walked over to her bed.

Wendy's bed was a large canopy bed with aquamarine mattresses & matching bedsheets & pillows, large navy blue curtains (with golden draw-tassels) on all four sides (attached to the navy blue canopy), ocean-blue blankets, white linens, a warm, fuzzy sky-blue blanket, & light blue mahogany bedposts (with a headboard of the same color & material).

Anyway, Dijon told Wendy, "Now, we've got to make a plan to get that boy to kiss you."

She opened the curtains and bounced a little before settling back into the large pillow on the left side of the canopy bed and crawled under the covers.

"Tomorrow, when he takes you for that ride, you gotta look your best." said Dijon.

Wendy lay in her bed. It was very comfy and warm. It was a nice place for her to sleep for the night.

"You're gonna bat your eyes - like this," Dijon went on, as he batted his eyes and puckered his lips. "You gotta pucker up your lips - like this."

But by now, he realized that Wendy was already fast asleep. Dijon shook his head and smiled. "Hm." He blew out the candle on the bed side table. He hopped onto one of Wendy's pillows, closed the curtains, and before falling asleep himself, he said, "You are hopeless, child. You know that?" He yawned and closed his eyes as Wendy covered him up with her sky-blue blanket. "Completely hopeless!"

And with that, Wendy and Dijon both fell asleep for the night.