FanFiction: Bats in the Belfry and Numbers on the Mind.

[The Count]

OK, here goes...

Episode 0.

Faint traces of chill air made the townspeople bristle, clad as they were within the relative comfort of furry fluffy coats, affording them some small measure of warmth. Evening gave way to night, enveloping the hamlet under a blackened blanket. Stars had been hung with immense care by an invisible hand, blinking on and off like so many tiny Christmas lights. Smiles graced onlookers' faces, as they stopped long enough on the cemented streetcorners, perusing the patterns made by the crafted constellations.

Snow covered the cobblestones lying at the feet of the castle's entrance as two pairs of feet quickly stepped out of their transport onto the rubbled road, ushered into the quieted foyer. Illuminated only in silhouettes by the languid light of the scant candles, the room was filled with a happy glow once the electricity had been turned on. Decorations still hung from various points of the gothic greeting hall, its creepy contours cozied by the usual Christmassy trappings. The tree was still set up in the corner, the white plastic numbers dancing upon their precarious perch in the softness of the blowing breeze.

"Vell Edvard... I'm sure you're vondering vhy I inwited you into my humble haunted home" said the numerian Nosferatu, eyeing his fellow traveler beamingly, a twinge of merry mischief in his monacled eye.
"The thought had crossed my mind... But I'm sure you have your reasons" replied the almost 30-year-old proprietor of the town's popular local toy shop, gingerly handling his bat-topped walking cane as it was his chief means of gathering information about his surroundings, his senses tuned to the vibration of joyousness ebbing from the familiar friendship he had with the master of this doomicile. . His hat and overcoat now roosted on hooks from the hatrack, a veteran of fictional writings that tend to pop up here and now, unburdened due to the weight of his added charges.
"First of all" the counter continued "did you enjoy your birthday? And the presents you received from your friends?"
"It was a great party" Edward said, fond rememberances playing in his mind of the event celebrated a mere two weeks ago.
"Vhat about that book..."
"The one on bats? Been listening to the audio recording, it helps describe all the little bats inside the book's pages."
"Vell, if you'll follow me, I have another present to give you."

The mathematical master guided his fratmate over to a secretly guarded door. An almost frightful face peered down on the newcomers, questioningly and defiantly daring them to step foot into his realm . Horns on his head, scales around his pointed bat ears along with fangs gritted gnarled around the brass knocker, this creature of the night sculpted in a soul-scouring pose barred intruders from crossing through his threshhold.
"Are you sure this is it old friend?"
"Yes, Edvard... Don't vorry about Cackle, he'll let us in... If you have the key. You do have the key?"
Mr. Grimness-Castle paused for a moment... A momentary lapse reflected in the unknowing look in his eyes betrayed his answer.
"Don't vorry..." The Count proffered a master skull-shaped key, teasing as he rattled Ed's bones in handing it over.

With the promise of a great treasure awaiting the toymaker behind the ominous entryway, the eagerness to find just what his friend was hiding etched itself upon his expectant brow. Doors flung back, lights bathing the solitude of the room, Eduardo was amazed by the bootiful collection in front of him. This sanctum pandemonium sheltered an innumerable bevy of bat-girl ornaments clinging to the ledges lining the walls of the chamber. His gate was slow and calculated, amazement registering after identifying each bat-girl in the Count's collection as those depicted in the very book dominating his attention only recently. He thrilled while inspecting all the ornaments, oohing and aahing at each bat before him, counting the fully-chiseled numbers hanging from splendid silven chained necklaces. And just when he thought it couldn't get any better...

 

[redBoobergurl]

Oh and you leave us hanging right away! Great start Ed! And I wonder where that book on bats came from, hmm? Looking forward to seeing more.

 

[The Count]

Thanks... So you picked out that reference huh? Waiting to see what the other person I've been contacting thinks, maybe more tomorrow. Thing is, I know it can be done better and I'll try to do so or at least try to make it flow that way with the next part of Episode 0.

 

[The Count]

Well, here's the conclusion to the first snipet. Not sure if I'm doing this as well as I'd like. Catherine/Ru, if you're reading, maybe we can work together to achieve the level of um, professionalism I've come to admire and yes swoon over in your own terrific tales. But enough pandering...


____________________
Eduardo made his way to the center core of the chamber, taken aback and reeling after adding up the inventory of cute chiroptera gathered by the Transylvanian-blooded bon vivant. He was excited when pausing for a brief moment to consider that these would be... And then, without warning, all of the ornaments came to life as if by means of some special magic. Each little beauty opened their eyes and their wings, allowing the muted coolness of the night wind to wash over them. Many miniscule mistrals maneuvered through the mausoleum, billowing the leatherbound sails of each little bat-girl hovering in mid-air glad to have awakened from their shushed slumber. Bats in boots, bats in blazers, bats in bonnets, bats in ballgowns, bats in blue jeans, bats in bathing suits, bats in balaclavas, and even bats in bras... They all swarmed the contented creator of creepy little creatures. Speaking of which, there were some dolled decorations not of the vampiric persuation hidden in the teaming crowd, present nevertheless. The batty baubbles assaulted Mr. Grimness-Castle, pressing kisses of greeting upon his personage. The scene could only be described as reminiscent of one of these rock stars getting mobbed by an oncoming rush of adoring female fans. Yet, as soon as they had smothered him beneath the welcome whipping wings, the newly charged master of the haunted home stood alone inside the confines of the chamber.

______________
Ed failed to comprehend their reaction, mortally mystified by womanly wonts, saddened there were no longer any little batty beauties to warm up the cold winter nights. The man's current mood was sadness mingled with a sort of dissatisfaction... A treasure trove of little cuties, won and lost in the span of however many minutes he had examined each in their dormant state. His sigh echoed the forlorned state of his mindset, just before...

"We're not all gone" uttered a small voice, undiscernable as to it's point of origin.
"If any one or thing is there, make yourself be known" stated Mr. Grimness-Castle boldly, hoping not to be harmed in body or spirit.
"There's no need to worry" she assured him in a voice almost as clear as her batlike body. The little bat-girl glided in front of the light fixture screwed tightly into the matted ceiling, her form, translucently set a glow by the illumination shining through her crystaline corpse. She descended down on Ed's shoulder, permitting his hands a palpable inspection of her transparent torso. Every little nuance was a sheer delight to the toymaker: her smoothly polished bat ears pricked tall and straight like two little shivs atop her head, the glassy marble-orbed eyes reflecting his own visage not to mention anything else in her line of sight, the triangular snout and gleaming fangs outlined in their crystal casing, her triple-teared wings beating against his body in tune to the rhythm of his own heart, the smooth surface of her arms and legs punctuated by five shivering metal claws upon her fingers and three cold claws on her feet, and finally the sexy see-through curves of her invisible anatomy modeled in perfect proportion. Last, but not least, was the marbled white 0 hanging from the chain around her neck above the mammal's melons. Nuzzling close to her newfound owner, she leaned close to his ear, whispering the man's mission.
"You have the checklist in that book of yours. Go find my sisters and bring them back home." One last kiss, following which she flew off to take up residence in the center spot of the display, destined for all the desmodontidae damsels.

 

[redBoobergurl]

This is great! I can see Ru's writing style coming through. Really Ed, you're doing a fantastic job and I'm really not just saying that. I'm hooked. I can't wait to read more. I'd love to say more in fact, but I've got company coming in five minutes. ((HUGS)) to you.

 

[The Count]

Thanks Beth... PM'd the founder of UshGush to see if we could collaborate... We'll find out as soon as she replies.

Especially when I think it could be better...
Being red or gold or yellow...
Or something much more colorful, oh sorry, what was I saying?

 

[Ruahnna]

I think it's lovely, Ed, and while I certainly appreciate the comparison, you have your very own densely-descriptive style that is unique to you. I very much enjoyed the image of you being swarmed by lots of little beauties, smothered in fluttery affection and then (almost) abandoned. Ah, bats...can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. Oh, but then I guess you can--you have practice!
I also liked the first one being translucent--it underscores the ethereal nature of the contact.
Keep it up--you are doing fine!

 

[The Count]

Thank Ru for the encouragement, o ruler of the ushgush. But see... Fright there in that review? You hexpressed a couple of points much better than I addressed them at first. So that's why I kind of thought this could be that tale-telling tandem with yourself I proposed via PM.

If Ru're up for it, then great. If not, that's OK too... Though I do hope we get the chance to work together one of these days.

LMK, we'll talk then. Now, if you'll hexcuse me, there's a zifflefest taking place between the prawn and his other half. And I'm anxiously awaiting updates for all your wonderful writings.

 

[The Count]

Author's Note: The main party in this episode is referencially borrowed from MuppetWriter's The Most Marvelous Time of the Year.
*Frets over how this will be received, commending this as a gift to Catherine in the hopes of maybe working together.

Now I know how Fozzie feels. *Pauses to wipe worry from his temples.

Episode 1.

Packed and ready to go, The Count von Count bopped amiably in tune with the ditty eminating from his Countmobile's radio while he waited for Eduardo. His companion was saying his goodbyes to Wayde-0, that little ornament stored within the seclusion of the castle's heart. Both passengers tucked into the seating of their vehicle, padded for their posteriors' protection, the motor revved and engine hummed following the frequency of the merry music as they sped off before missing out on the joyous event taking place that very January night.

The town's main ballroom had been converted into a veritable winter chalet. Ice crystals hung to the windows' corners, licking the ledges with their frozen watery tears. Christmas wreaths encircled the oakened doorway, whereas strings of electric lights embedded into the garland underscored the hems of the beams proudly supporting the sunctuous structure. The red carpets unfurled on their own, accepting the welcome trod of its wards, mingling in merriment inside. The buffet table sported delicacies as glazed ham with pineapple pieces, golden to Ed's palate, and of course cherries on top, blood pudding and arroz con dulce, potato salad burying the hidden cinnamon dusted slivers of apple, pumpkin soup as warm as the feeling in their hearts, and a number of other culinary treats.
"Who knew the Swedish Chef could outdo himself?" was the query on everybody's tongues, as well as the satisfaction of finding that they loved the various menu items prepared by the chez d'ane. And of course, the black cherry soda helped wash the delectable food down with just that little lingering hint of Christmas flavor.

The more marvelous aspect of the New Year's ball was the guest list, which boasted preeminent dignitaries from the four corners of the entertainment globe. You would be hard pressed to find the couples present having a happier time, lest contentious litigation pry them from the arms of their fellow celebrities. The first to salute Edward was a young man of about half his age, with as unruly jet black hair as the elder. The boy or young man, magical in nature, was glad to get away from the crowds of groupies who ceaslessly gawked at that singular boltlike blemish. His glasses kept slipping down his nose, but he readjusted them in time to take the arm of his date for the evening, a teenage flame with as many freckles as he lacked himself. Dressed in fanciful formal jet black robe and white lightning gown—sporting an emerald H crest flanked on all sides by their founders' beasts—the practice they had at their own Yule Ball served them well, as they were the first couple out on the dancefloor. Soon they would be joined by the dashing duos waltzing in a wonderful wintery wonderland. Jake Long and Princess Bloom unafraid to show their true forms, danced divinely with their partners—the American Dragon decked in his scaly suited splendor with a girl known simply as Rose who resembled her flowery name owing to the coteured costume she wore, not to be undone by the fairy princess modeling one of Vera Wand's frolicksome frocks as she milled through the crowd with Prince Sky in his palace guard attire. Bugs Bunny looked quite dapper in his winter white tuxedo, black bowtie binding his neck, Lola Bunny in a light chiffon ballgown of her snuggled close cleverly wiggling her cottontail tickling his fancy. Even Mickey Mouse in his own blackened duds graced the party, an arm belonging to his beloved Minnie Mouse coily wrapped around his waist while her free arm tussled with the holly-day bow personally selected for the gala.

Muppets were present of course, what shindig in Hensonville would be complete without them—the tabloid reporters licking their chops should none be seen within 50 blocks of the high class happenings. Dragon tails of a palid blueish tinge locked in lovelorn embraces, Uncle Deadly and Auntie Eleanor alleviating Jake's apparent hesitance. Gonzo commented on the light complimenting his fluffed fiancée's feathers while Camilla softly clucked sweet nothings in his ear before settling the rhinestone ringlet clipped to her wing. Fozzie had found his old tuxedo jacket and tried tieing his polkadotted crevat into a bowtie, more or less successful in his attempts. Thankfully, the nervous evident in his furry face fled on hearing the melody of the laughter of his female escort... A young bear named Beth, dressed in a frozen cornflower yellow dress, still tenuous herself about rubbing elbows with such personages as she had only left the comfort of the London studios a month ago. Soothed as she realized this mirrored the Dubbonet Club scene from that same movie, her own worries subsided in a moment easing into those kid cubbed hands of the furry funnyman. The Count found some time to chat with Countess Dahling von Dahling, marvelling at the glistening golden numbers she herself wore as eye candy to the mesmorized math major. They would have their own moment, contented now to simply sit on the sofa and watch the others having fun. "After all" the Count thought to himself "Vith my Countess at my side, who needs a roaring fire as ve can supply sufficient sparks."

Belle placed her dainty hand inside the larger paw of her gentleman, or was that gentlebeast, confiding in him her trust. His spirits lifted in that small show of affection, leading his lady out on to the promenade. One of the guests—orangish bricklaid behemoth—looked at the couple, hopeful that he and his dame could achieve the same level of happiness with each other. Ed was pleased to find a kindred soul in Alicia Masters, in spite of her eyes permanently bereft of light, before they shook hands and parted ways as Alicia inserted hers next to the gritted granite grip of Benjamin J. Grimm. Peter Parker put the camera down when he himself was stunned at the visage of Mary Jane Watson. The silky strands of her spidery webbed dress reached all the way to the ground, trailing in her wake as she crossed the room to where the photographer stood. She quickly admonished him—then smiling that mega-watt smile of hers fiddling with the spider-shaped lapel on his jacket—as she let slip that familiar pet name she used when she wanted to get under his skin. The flowing red hair of Kim Possible turned to check out the competition, a young adolescent boy of about her same age. The two were still single at the moment, even if they pretended like nothing would suit them better. "Hi, I'm Ash Catchum from Palette Town" he stated, jovially yet shyly extending his hand, nudged all the while by a chattering yellow rodent at his side. "The name's Kim Possible", she replied shaking his clammy palm. "You OK?" she asked. "Yeah, I'm just waiting for my date, guess I'm a bit nervous" he sheepishly admitted. "Don't worry, it's so not the drama" retorted the teenage cheerleader superhero. "Hey KP!" cried Ron Stopable conveying a miniature rodent of his own in his pressed pants' pocket. At the same time, Annabelle renowned as the Battle Tower's superb salon stylist, hailing from Cremini Town sauntered up to Ash. "Sorry I'm late, I had to give this pig client a last-minute primping." "That's okay Anabelle, besides, you already know what I feel anyway." Young Ash spoke the truth, for the woman standing before him in a turquoise satin dress adorned with small decorative wingleafed berry clusters had an innate sense of telling what it was those close to her heart felt at the moment she put her talents to the test."Cremini Town, so that's the place with the mushrooms?" Ron innocently posed. "Ron..." Kim bellowed, merely rolling her eyes dragging him off before he further embarassed himself, or what was worse her if that was at all possible.

Undeniably, the couples parted making way for the stars of the show... The evergreen of the Christmas foliage paled, as the host came to greet one and all. The white shirt clinging to his frame, Christmas green jacket and cool khaki pants completing the ensamble, smoked spats slowing his flippers from advancing any quicker. To say that the ladies here were beautiful was one thing... And even if some had to swallow a bit of pride, they clapped in earnest as the hostess worked the runway as only she could. Not that she couldn't do it herself, Annabelle's prowess with the curling irons evidently added that last little oomph the diva required, her hair lustrous highlighted by two distinct streaks of flashy blonde beneath the layers of toffee blonde haircascading onto her shoulders. The dress she chose, Christmas cherry red, festively complimented and effectively offset her comfrer's clothes. Pearls around her neck, holly sprig ring dominating her garnet gloves, and shining gold accents on her scarlet shoes helped her pull off the look she was going for—cheery Christmas hostess though sensible enough for New Year's suggesting she came prepared with her own personal mistletoe for a certain frog—yes, she was raring to dance the night away.

 

[The Count]

*Author's Note: The party at the center of this episode is referencially borrowed from MuppetWriter's The Most Marvelous Time of the Year.
*Frets as to how this installment will be received, as it's commended to Catherine in the timid hopes of working together on future episodes.

Now I know how Fozzie feels. *Pauses to wipe away the worry from his temples.


Episode 1.

Packed and ready to go, The Count von Count bopped amiably in tune with the ditty eminating from his Countmobile's radio while he waited for Eduardo. His companion was saying his goodbyes to Wayde-0, that little ornament stored within the seclusion of the castle's heart. Both passengers tucked into the seating of their vehicle, padded for their posteriors' protection, the motor revved and engine hummed following the frequency of the merry music as they sped off before missing out on the joyous event taking place that very January night.

The town's main ballroom had been converted into a veritable winter chalet. Ice crystals hung to the windows' corners, licking the ledges with their frozen watery tears. Christmas wreaths encircled the oakened doorway, whereas strings of electric lights embedded into the garland underscored the hems of the beams proudly supporting the sunctuous structure. The red carpets unfurled on their own, accepting the welcome trod of its wards, mingling in merriment inside. The buffet table sported delicacies as glazed ham with pineapple pieces, golden to Ed's palate, and of course cherries on top, blood pudding and arroz con dulce, potato salad burying the hidden cinnamon dusted slivers of apple, pumpkin soup as warm as the feeling in their hearts, and a number of other culinary treats.
"Who knew the Swedish Chef could outdo himself?" was the query on everybody's tongues, as well as the satisfaction of finding that they loved the various menu items prepared by the chez d'ane. And of course, the black cherry soda helped wash the delectable food down with just that little lingering hint of Christmas flavor.

The more marvelous aspect of the New Year's ball was the guest list, which boasted preeminent dignitaries from the four corners of the entertainment globe. You would be hard pressed to find the couples present having a happier time, lest contentious litigation pry them from the arms of their fellow celebrities. The first to salute Edward was a young man of about half his age, with as unruly jet black hair as the elder. The boy or young man, magical in nature, was glad to get away from the crowds of groupies who ceaslessly gawked at that singular boltlike blemish. His glasses kept slipping down his nose, but he readjusted them in time to take the arm of his date for the evening, a teenage flame with as many freckles as he lacked himself. Dressed in fanciful formal jet black robe and white lightning gown—sporting an emerald H crest flanked on all sides by their founders' beasts—the practice they had at their own Yule Ball served them well, as they were the first couple out on the dancefloor. Soon they would be joined by the dashing duos waltzing in a wonderful wintery wonderland. Jake Long and Princess Bloom unafraid to show their true forms, danced divinely with their partners—the American Dragon decked in his scaly suited splendor with a girl known simply as Rose who resembled her flowery name owing to the coteured costume she wore, not to be undone by the fairy princess modeling one of Vera Wand's frolicksome frocks as she milled through the crowd with Prince Sky in his palace guard attire. Bugs Bunny looked quite dapper in his winter white tuxedo, black bowtie binding his neck, Lola Bunny in a light chiffon ballgown of her snuggled close cleverly wiggling her cottontail tickling his fancy. Even Mickey Mouse in his own blackened duds graced the party, an arm belonging to his beloved Minnie Mouse coily wrapped around his waist while her free arm tussled with the holly-day bow personally selected for the gala.

Muppets were present of course, what shindig in Hensonville would be complete without them—the tabloid reporters licking their chops should none be seen within 50 blocks of the high class happenings. Dragon tails of a palid blueish tinge locked in lovelorn embraces, Uncle Deadly and Auntie Eleanor alleviating Jake's apparent hesitance. Gonzo commented on the light complimenting his fluffed fiancée's feathers while Camilla softly clucked sweet nothings in his ear before settling the rhinestone ringlet clipped to her wing. Fozzie had found his old tuxedo jacket and tried tieing his polkadotted crevat into a bowtie, more or less successful in his attempts. Thankfully, the nervous evident in his furry face fled on hearing the melody of the laughter of his female escort... A young bear named Beth, dressed in a frozen cornflower yellow dress, still tenuous herself about rubbing elbows with such personages as she had only left the comfort of the London studios a month ago. Soothed as she realized this mirrored the Dubbonet Club scene from that same movie, her own worries subsided in a moment easing into those kid cubbed hands of the furry funnyman. The Count found some time to chat with Countess Dahling von Dahling, marvelling at the glistening golden numbers she herself wore as eye candy to the mesmorized math major. They would have their own moment, contented now to simply sit on the sofa and watch the others having fun. "After all" the Count thought to himself "Vith my Countess at my side, who needs a roaring fire as ve can supply sufficient sparks."

Belle placed her dainty hand inside the larger paw of her gentleman, or was that gentlebeast, confiding in him her trust. His spirits lifted in that small show of affection, leading his lady out on to the promenade. One of the guests—orangish bricklaid behemoth—looked at the couple, hopeful that he and his dame could achieve the same level of happiness with each other. Ed was pleased to find a kindred soul in Alicia Masters, in spite of her eyes permanently bereft of light, before they shook hands and parted ways as Alicia inserted hers next to the gritted granite grip of Benjamin J. Grimm. Peter Parker put the camera down when he himself was stunned at the visage of Mary Jane Watson. The silky strands of her spidery webbed dress reached all the way to the ground, trailing in her wake as she crossed the room to where the photographer stood. She quickly admonished him—then smiling that mega-watt smile of hers fiddling with the spider-shaped lapel on his jacket—as she let slip that familiar pet name she used when she wanted to get under his skin. The flowing red hair of Kim Possible turned to check out the competition, a young adolescent boy of about her same age. The two were still single at the moment, even if they pretended like nothing would suit them better. "Hi, I'm Ash Catchum from Palette Town" he stated, jovially yet shyly extending his hand, nudged all the while by a chattering yellow rodent at his side. "The name's Kim Possible", she replied shaking his clammy palm. "You OK?" she asked. "Yeah, I'm just waiting for my date, guess I'm a bit nervous" he sheepishly admitted. "Don't worry, it's so not the drama" retorted the teenage cheerleader superhero. "Hey KP!" cried Ron Stopable conveying a miniature rodent of his own in his pressed pants' pocket. At the same time, Annabelle renowned as the Battle Tower's superb salon stylist, hailing from Cremini Town sauntered up to Ash. "Sorry I'm late, I had to give this pig client a last-minute primping." "That's okay Anabelle, besides, you already know what I feel anyway." Young Ash spoke the truth, for the woman standing before him in a turquoise satin dress adorned with small decorative wingleafed berry clusters had an innate sense of telling what it was those close to her heart felt at the moment she put her talents to the test."Cremini Town, so that's the place with the mushrooms?" Ron innocently posed. "Ron..." Kim bellowed, merely rolling her eyes dragging him off before he further embarassed himself, or what was worse her if that was at all possible.

Undeniably, the couples parted making way for the stars of the show... The evergreen of the Christmas foliage paled, as the host came to greet one and all. The white shirt clinging to his frame, Christmas green jacket and cool khaki pants completing the ensamble, smoked spats slowing his flippers from advancing any quicker. To say that the ladies here were beautiful was one thing... And even if some had to swallow a bit of pride, they clapped in earnest as the hostess worked the runway as only she could. Not that she couldn't do it herself, Annabelle's prowess with the curling irons evidently added that last little oomph the diva required, her hair lustrous highlighted by two distinct streaks of flashy blonde beneath the layers of toffee blonde haircascading onto her shoulders. The dress she chose, Christmas cherry red, festively complimented and effectively offset her comfrer's clothes. Pearls around her neck, holly sprig ring dominating her garnet gloves, and shining gold accents on her scarlet shoes helped her pull off the look she was going for—cheery Christmas hostess though sensible enough for New Year's suggesting she came prepared with her own personal mistletoe for a certain frog—yes, she was raring to dance the night away.