Sunday, April 10, 2011

Anna and Perkin Warbeck (At Last)

You're not a baby at all! You're an embittered drunken man. Why on earth have I been changing your diapers all this time?

It's complicated. Have another drink and we'll try to forget this conversation ever happened.

Is that a pistol? Where did you get a pistol?

I found it, OK? It's not a big deal.

It IS a big deal! You're supposed to be a baby and you're drunk. And you've been stealing weapons.

Lift me off of this stool and I'll explain everything. Here, you can hold onto the pistol even.

What is that accent anyway? You're not Russian.

Polish, probably. I'm from England really but I learnt Russian from a Polish priest.

I should never have nursed you.


Will you put the rum down? You only weigh about ten pounds. That should kill you, drinking that much.

It's diluted.

It's mixed with vodka! That doesn't count as diluted.

Anna! Are you shouting at the baby?

She's not a baby. She's not even a girl. She's a rum-soaked English guy with a pistol. What is your name, anyway?


Baloney! That's not even English. You said you were English.

Call me Mitch then, if it makes you feel better. I'm going to have to leave.

Yeah, probably. I don't think Maria will be too pleased when she finds out who she adopted.

Heh. Heh.

It's not funny! She's married to the Grand Prince of Moscow! You might have inherited the whole city.

I think Ivan's on to me anyway. He caught me stealing his cognac but I played dumb.

You are talking to a baby.

Ali, listen to me. She's not a baby. I think she's a spy.

Eh. I quit that. Shemyaka creeps me out, with the pewter eyes and those curly fingernails. I should have stayed in England.

English, eh? Tut tut. I should have known from her multiple rows of brown and yellow fangs.

I'd have better teeth if somebody had nursed me more! Eck eck eck.

You disgust me. How old are you really?

Couldn't say. I figure about 24. I need to put this diaper somewhere.


I quit this whole spy gig. I need a pair of tiny breeches. Anybody have a pair of tiny breeches?

Let's just cut a few holes in my qat pouch. Your gown isn't nearly as long as necessary.

So you were working for Shemyaka all this time? How much does he know now?

Enough to take the Kreml I expect. He didn't ask for any more information in the past week or so, so he must have learnt all he needed. Mostly he didn't want to have to pay me. Cheap buzzard.

How could he take the Kreml? He hasn't enough men.

Baba Yaga. He's got some sort of agreement worked out with her so they can take Ivan down.

Baba Yaga never works with anyone! She despises any sort of order or leadership of any kind. Why would she agree to work with Shemyaka?

I wasn't exactly privy to those conversations, ma'am. I saw them both together, and I gave information about the Kreml to one of her fekakta cats to relay back to her.

Calico Kitty is a spy now? Gott im Himmel. Is there nothing adorable left under God's skies?

Calico Kitty's name is Musil and he is a no-good cheat and a womanizer. You probably contracted something just petting him.

Oh... oh.

We've got to tell Ivan. They could be moving in even now.

Yeah, just set me into a basket of bulrushes with a pint of this, and give me my pistol back, and I'll be seeing youse.

I can't believe I nursed you.

Later, babe.

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