Word Count: 4,122
Based on a very awesome idea by jennyupabove and loveapplemint (that for some reason I can’t put in a link to, ugh) for a bonding experience between these two idiots. This turned out kind of crack-y and longer than necessary, but I like it. Hope you do too.
In the pub of a provincial French town, two men finally slapped down their shot glasses. After a very intense hour of swapping crazy stories and arguing over whose wife was prettier, they’d decided to have a competition to see who could hold their liquor better. As it turned out, both of them could do it very well. Unfortunately, this meant that the two of them, whose judgement was not perfect at the best of times, were now more than a little bit…how shall I put this…?…impaired.
“I hate all the antlers hanging everywhere,” Kristoff complained. “Like, it’s not enough that they have to go around killing innocent deer for fun, now they have to make trophies out of it. How could anybody do that? How would hunters like it if deer shot people and then hung their heads on trees?”
Eugene rolled his eyes. “What, now you’re a deer rights activist? Come on Bjorgman, people have been hunting for thousands of years.”
“Yeah, for food. That’s fine with me. It’s killing animals just for fun and then wasting the remains that really makes me mad. I keep imagining Sven seeing all this and then trampling all the hunters in revenge for murdering his French cousins.”
“I think, my friend, that you’ve had a few too many.”
“That’s great coming from you. You’re swaying like a badly built house in a snowstorm. I doubt that you’d recognize Rapunzel if she jumped on this table, danced the cancan, and then pulled off all her clothes.”
“Well, of course I wouldn’t; because she’d never do that. And besides, misidentifying your wife isn’t as uncommon as you think. Remember what I told you happened to Attila’s sister?”
“Please don’t tell that story again.”
“Too bad; it’s a great story. By the way, what’s the cancan?”
“I…have no idea. Anna was talking about it the other day, but I couldn’t focus on what she was saying right then.”
“Would she happen to have been naked at the time?”
“Yes she…wait, no…ugh, shut up.”
Eugene rolled his eyes like What am I going to do with this guy? and leaned back in his seat.
“You’re an okay guy, I suppose, Kristoff. But you have no sense of humor whatsoever.”
“How could I have no sense of humor? Didn’t I marry Anna and don’t I have to put up with Elsa’s crazy snowman all the time?”
“Yes, but you don’t appreciate how funny they are.”
“Excuse me, who was the one who kicked Olaf’s head out the window the first time he met him?”
“I was surprised!”
“Admit it, you were scared.”
“I have faced pompous guards and demented horses and grotesquely optimistic thugs. I was not scared of a little snowman.”
“If it makes you feel better about your manliness, then you can just keep telling yourself that.”
“I was NOT scared!”
They probably would’ve carried on like that all night, but the sound of giggling behind them was being awfully distracting. Kristoff and Eugene simultaneously decided to save their bickering for another time, and they turned around to see what was going on. As it turned out, three young blond (and rather busty) women were sitting at the table behind them with forgotten mugs in their hands. They looked like they might be sisters. They also were watching the two men like a trio of dogs watching juicy steak being roasted.
“Don’t look now,” Kristoff muttered. “But I think that those women are looking at us.”
“Well, obviously. If I were a woman, I’d definitely want to look at us too,” Eugene replied.
“See, that’s why they wanted to hang you.”
The triplet blondes had now completely abandoned their pretenses and were sidling up to the men’s table. One was twirling her hair around her finger. One was suddenly winking a lot. The third was unsubtly adjusting the neckline of her dress.
“Well, here they come,” Eugene announced. “This kind of feels like the old days.”
“This kind of feels like a nightmare that Elsa once had.”
“Excuse me,” said the first girl (the one in the green dress). She was standing very close to Eugene. “Are you two okay over there all alone? We wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”
“We’re not lonely,” Kristoff replied cluelessly.
She leaned far forward over Eugene and batted her lashes slowly at him.
But to his credit, he didn’t even blush.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, lifting his left hand to flash his wedding ring. “I’m taken.”
She blinked slowly, looking surprised. Then disappointment etched itself across her face. Disappointed and frustrated, she slunk back off to her table and took a swig from her mug of ale.
Eugene breathed a sigh of relief. Then he turned over to Kristoff and nearly choked with laughter. The poor bastard was completely oblivious.
“So…” the girl in yellow started in a breathy voice. “You look very strong. “Could you lift one of those kegs over your head?”
Her sister in red giggled suggestively. “I bet that he could lift things a lot heavier than just that.”
But Kristoff just frowned, looking confused.
“Sure uh…I can lift these kegs over my head. Why?”
Eugene had to duck under the table to avoid having Kristoff see him laughing.
“Really?” exclaimed the girl in yellow. “Do you think that you could show us?”
“Yeah, um, I guess so.”
From his vantage point under the table, Eugene watched as a very bemused Kristoff shuffled over to the bar and had a brief exchange with the bartender. Then he picked up one of the kegs off the counter and carried it over back to the table. Before the two excited girls, he did indeed lift it over his head. Not only that, but he managed to keep it over his head for a long while before taking it back to the bar.
The girls exchanged delighted looks when he came back. Then when he sat down, they immediately situated themselves on either side of him.
“So…what other things besides kegs can you lift?”
“Say, ‘the princess of Arendelle,’” Eugene muttered.
Sadly, Kristoff didn’t hear him.
“Um, ice blocks? My reindeer? I honestly don’t know why you would care.”
Imagine the situation, if you will. One very large and attractive man having two pretty young women literally draping themselves on him, with his friend huddled under the table and snickering to himself. Just because the first man was just so used to only his wife and her crazy ways that he had no idea how most people’s basic flirting worked. If he’d never met Anna, the Bimbettes probably would’ve had to rip his clothing off before he would’ve understood what they were getting at.
And they were getting pretty close to that point anyway.
“No, I don’t—look, I’m married! Hey, ow! No, stop it! Okay, somebody help me! Hey! You! Hey, yeah, you!”
The last bit he shouted at a small man with a squashed nose and popped-out eyes who was pacing about like he was waiting for someone. But when he saw the situation, he clearly just had to stop and gape at poor Kristoff.
“Ah, wow!” the small man exclaimed. “You must be an incredible lady-lover. Not even Gaston ever let them come within three feet of him. And that was when he was feeling tolerant of their not caring for his personal space.”
“Yes, we know,” sighed the girl in the green dress. She took another swig of her drink and continued to look sulky.
“Yeah, I didn’t need to know that. Ow! No, stop that! All I was going to ask was where the bathroom was!”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so? In the far back and to the left, hommes on the left and femmes on the right. But you don’t speak French too good, do you?”
“I can manage,” Kristoff grumbled, shrugging the disappointed Bimbettes off himself. “And he—” Here he glared under the table at the unabashed Eugene “—is coming with me.”
He grabbed the other man by the wrist and dragged him off the thankfully empty men’s room. They both crouched on the floor next to the toilets, trying hard to breathe through their mouths.
After a minute or so like this, Eugene spoke up.
“You know, you probably could’ve said something to them about Anna before they started trying to take your pants off.”
“You could’ve told me what was happening before it got to that point.”
“Oh come on Bjorgman, you seriously had no idea? You and your wife make so much noise together it sounds like the walls of Jericho coming down. What do you two do in there anyway?”
“You wanna go there, huh? Then how about I talk about how we caught you and Rapunzel together in our library after what happened with the chandelier incident?”
“Okay, you know how Anna tells everyone to never mention the chandelier incident and to just pretend like it never happened? That happens to be exactly how I feel about how you caught us in the library.”
“Then don’t talk about my sex life.”
“How about a compromise? I don’t talk about your sex life, and you keep your ice-crazy sister-in-law away from me when I accidentally mess up her precious books.”
“Elsa sure was mad about both things that time. The top floor didn’t thaw for a week.”
“I didn’t hear about that. Boy, is she touchy about those dumb books.”
“Well, your in-laws have got to be touchy about something.”
“They are. Their art collection. I had to find out about that out the hard way. Now there’s a fantastic story.”
Kristoff rolled his eyes and groaned. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“It all started one day when it was my turn to feed Maximus and we happened to be all out of apples…”
Five stories later…
“—and that’s how I learned to always discuss my dates with Anna out of earshot of Olaf,” Kristoff finished.
Eugene whistled in sympathy. “Man, and I thought Max was nosy and irritating. At least he doesn’t have opposable thumbs and a voice.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Elsa must’ve been on something crazy when she made him.”
“No, she was…wait you know what? That actually explains a lot about Olaf.”
“Of course it does. Wanna hear about the time I almost married a bear?”
“Amazingly, no. Could you actually go and check and see if those women have left?”
“Thought you’d never ask. These toilets smell even worse than you.”
Eugene raced to the door before Kristoff could smack him and peeked outside. The blond triplets were certainly gone, and that sure was a relief. But in their place had come a huge guy with a double chin and a ridiculous-looking ponytail.
“Okay,” he announced as he headed back to Kristoff. “The bad news: there’s a really arrogant-looking big guy with dumb hair taking up the whole pub. The good news: your fangirls have left.”
“I don’t have any fangirls,” Kristoff grumbled. “Let’s just get back to our seats and pay for our drinks. I wanna get out of here and back to my wife.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Eugene agreed. “At least Rapunzel would never agree to the kind of decor that they have here.”
“Antlers,” Kristoff snarled under his breath as they finally left the men’s room. “I really hate people who decorate with antlers.”
When they reached their table and got out their money to pay for their extensive drinking, Gaston promptly got started on making them loathe him.
He was stretched back lazily in the huge armchair by the fire. He was drinking out of a tankard of beer roughly as tall as Elsa’s hair and examining himself in a mirror roughly the size of Rapunzel’s most deadly frying pan. All while talking about the stag that he had brought down the previous day (which was really not endearing him to Kristoff).
“It was easy, of course,” he told the enthralled pub. “Hunting and bringing down the best game has always been way too easy for me. This stag actually thought that it stood a chance of running away from me. Ha! What a joke! No beast in the world stands a chance against Gaston!”
“So how did you corner it, Gaston?” one of the men asked with slack-jawed fascination.
“Ran it down myself, of course,” he replied, preening smugly. “In the middle of the woods, too!”
“I hate him,” Kristoff muttered as Gaston carried on with what was surely an exaggerated version of the story. No human being on Earth could run as fast as a healthy young deer for as long.
“Join the club,” Eugene agreed. “He’s full of more crap than the toilets we just came from.”
“I wish Sven was here.”
“What, so he could trample him?”
“Let’s get out of here so we don’t have to listen to this anymore.”
The two men grabbed their jackets and headed for the door. But right then, Gaston was wrapping up his deer story and starting to talk about a very different kind of hunt.
“Ah, the little mademoiselle, Belle.”
Kristoff and Eugene froze where they stood.
“The most beautiful girl in the village. Maybe in all of France.”
Assuming that he was talking about a sweetheart, they relaxed. Way too soon.
“That makes her the best girl, and the perfect prize for the best man, which is me of course. Of course, it wouldn’t be a good prize if it was easy to get, so the future little wife is pretending to not be interested. Makes me have to resort to unusual tactics in order to get her attention. But be sure men, she’ll have no choice but to marry me. And when she does, I’ll…”
He then launched into a very detailed description of what he planned to do to this girl Belle. Most of the men in the pub responded with a lot of snickering and elbowing each other with even an occasional whistle. The bartender even started illustrating the story with a long series of lewd hand gestures.
Eugene and Kristoff, who’d previously been on their way out the door, were now standing still with their mouths open.
It wasn’t that they’d never heard this kind of talk before. Although Kristoff had always treated women with an awkward respect, and even in his days as a rogue Eugene had never forced a woman to do anything she wasn’t fully willing to; they’d obviously heard others saying inappropriate things. Multiple times. Once, Kristoff had even (reluctantly) watched a highly explicit sketch that featured a very horny Anna and an Elsa who was big into BDSM.
It had always made them irritated and disgusted before. But before, they’d been able to control their tempers. Then again, before they hadn’t had the results of a drinking contest in their systems.
“How dare he insult that girl,” Kristoff snarled.
“Arrogant son of a bitch with very descriptive profanity,” Eugene growled.
“Let’s take him down a peg.”
Was this stupid and reckless? Yes. But was it very noble? Also yes. Didn’t stop it from being stupid and reckless.
Eugene led the charge, with Kristoff following him and breathing heavily like an angry bull.
The other men looked over and snickered with delight. More comrades to have sexist discussions with!
“Hey, aren’t you the ones who got the Bimbettes’ attention?”
“Nice going, men!”
“Hey Gaston, maybe they could help you get Belle’s attention too!”
Gaston glanced up from the mirror and looked over at the two men. A very pleased expression swiftly made its way across his face.
He rose up from the huge armchair and strode over to inspect the two new arrivals. Although he didn’t seem to notice the ferocious glares that they were sending his way.
“So…you two attract the attention of females, hmmm? Not as much as me of course, but…I bet that the two of you must have many beautiful women totally obsessed with you.”
Gaston moved even closer, until he was looming right over them.
“So my friends…how do you think I can get ahold of that tasty little mademoiselle?”
There was a moment of silence.
Then Eugene did the unthinkable.
He reached way up; and, with a great deal of relish, flicked Gaston’s ponytail with one finger.
“You,” he said very loudly. “are a showy prick.”
Gasps echoed all around the pub. The bartender dropped a bottle on the floor with a loud crash. One man passed out face-first into his plate of boeuf bourgignon.
Gaston was still too shocked to do anything, but the small man from earlier was not. With a surprisingly loud yell, he jumped over and punched Eugene in the gut. The Crown Prince of Corona doubled over wheezing.
Kristoff immediately punched Le Fou right back. He might have underestimated his strength a bit, because Le Fou immediately went flying fifteen feet across the pub and into a pile of barrels.
That was it. Gaston and the entire rest of the pub launched themselves at the two men.
Roughly twenty-five to two. You really had to feel sorry for them.
Kristoff picked up a different guy (who needed to lose some weight I might add) and threw him out the window before punching three more at once into the wall. Eugene grabbed the chair out from under the person who’d passed out and started swinging it around and knocking out his opponents.
One of them tried to sneak up on Eugene with two very long knives. Kristoff drop-kicked him into the bar.
Another one tried to ambush Kristoff with a pistol. Eugene body-slammed him over a table.
Apparently, going on adventures with crazy princesses, musical thugs, delusional snowmen, rule-obsessed horses, and Kristanna-shipper trolls is good for getting you into shape. But in case you’re curious, remember: it’s definitely not for the faint of heart.
Now, let me tell you, they may have thrown some nasty punches at most of the men. But the best of it all was reserved for Gaston.
When all the others were either unconscious or had wisely run away, Gaston was advancing on Eugene and backing him up against a wall; but who was distracting him with a lot of stupid faces and obscene hand gestures. All the while, Kristoff was advancing on him from behind.
“And you know what else?” Eugene yelled. “I’ve already been married for years to a princess! And she willingly said yes when I proposed!”
Gaston swung his fist.
The fist connected with the wall with a painful THWACK!
As if that weren’t enough, Kristoff slammed Gaston against the wall so hard that his teeth rattled. A set of antlers fell down and whacked the hunter on the head, who slid unconscious to the floor.
The two men raced for the door, with Eugene grabbing the bearskin off Gaston’s armchair on the way out. They’d spent quite enough time in that pub for one night.
When Elsa had suggested a family trip to France, everyone had been expecting to stay at a luxury hotel in Paris. Unfortunately for the comfort-loving royalty, Elsa hadn’t wanted to spend time living it up until they’d had “a genuine experience of what the culture and daily life there is like.” Which, as it turned out, meant staying at a small inn in a provincial village for a week before they went to Paris. Elsa’s sister and cousins had whined spectacularly, but the queen had refused to change her mind. In fact, she had threatened to “freeze all of you annoying idiots and drop you off the North Mountain if you don’t stop acting like spoiled children.” Elsa usually didn’t make threats; which made her family decide to listen to her.
So in the town’s only inn, two princess cousins waited anxiously for their husbands to come back. The queen had been waiting with them; at least until she had claimed to have a headache and gone to bed early. In her wake, Rapunzel and Anna were still worried.
“They said that they’d be back by eleven,” Rapunzel fretted. “It’s already past midnight.”
“They both have a tendency to run into trouble,” Anna babbled. “So they probably killed each other. Or they ran off together. Either one works. I mean, they do a lot of weird things already, and you never know what two people are going to do if you leave them alone together…” She faltered at the look on her cousin’s face. “I’m really not helping, am I?”
“No, no, it’s okay. I mean, you’re right; they do get into trouble a lot. That’s not your fault if you point it out. I just don’t want to think about what would happen to them if they got attacked by wolves or men with pointy teeth or something.”
“Men with pointy teeth?”
“Oh, um, don’t ask.”
“And they didn’t even want to go out in the first place, so if something happens then it’s all our fault.”
“Now that was really not helpful.”
“Look, I’m just as worried as you. I just really hope that they didn’t murder each other.”
The door burst open, and the two princes ran in, laughing and slapping each other on the back. Eugene tossed his new bearskin on the floor.
“Remind you to spend more time with you,” he said with a grin. “You’re not as boring as you act.”
“And you’re not as much of an arrogant ass as you act,” Kristoff returned with a smirk. “Also, you handle a chair really well.”
“Eh, I’ve had practice using household objects as weapons.”
“Hold up,” Anna broke in. “I hate to interrupt a budding bromance, but we’ve got a couple of questions for you. First of all—”
“Where were you?” Rapunzel exclaimed. “What happened? And how much have you two had to drink?”
The grins slid off their faces faster than an avalanche down the North Mountain. In retrospect, they should’ve guessed that their wives would suspect something. Eugene’s cheek was bruised and Kristoff’s tunic was torn. Both of them were red in the face and unsteady on their feet from the alcohol they’d consumed. Not to mention that they were more than an hour late.
“Uhhhhhh…” they started articulately.
Two sets of eyebrows were raised.
“We were just leaving the pub to get back to you ladies when we were attacked by a band of ruffians.”
Kristoff buried his face in his hands. Why him?
“There we were, innocently tipsy and hoping to get back to our beautiful wives, when out of the bushes jumped an evil gang, armed to the teeth. They attacked us out of the blue, through absolutely no fault of our own, yelling French swear words at us the whole time—”
Rapunzel stifled a laugh.
“Oh come on, Blondie, it’s totally true! Anyway, the ruffians all attacked us at once, and the brutal fight lasted a long time. But don’t worry; we beat them all. Finally, we came back to you and were greeted with suspicion as a reward for out courage and daring.”
Both women were silent for a moment. Then they burst out laughing.
“Ruffians? Really?” Rapunzel managed.
“Gonna—have to—do—better than that,” Anna choked out.
The princesses kept laughing as Eugene looked highly affronted and Kristoff tried to make himself look inconspicuous. Once they’d calmed down though, Anna turned to her husband.
“Kristoff?” He stared at his boots and then pretended to be engrossed by an ugly picture on the wall. “Kristoff!”
“Eugene flicked Gaston’s ponytail and called him a showy prick…” he muttered.
“Sorry? What was that? We didn’t hear you.”
“Okay! Jeez! We did some shots, some women asked if I could lift these barrels so I did and then we had to hide in the mens room for like half an hour until they got escorted out. Eugene flicked Gaston’s ponytail, called him a prick, I may have punched a guy, we stole a bearskin and came home!”
“Five minutes Kristoff. That’s a new record. Really, you’re the master of secrecy.”
“Shut up Eugene.”
As it turned out, their wives found the whole thing too hilarious to get mad at them. They both went off to bed that night relieved to get out of trouble. Unfortunately, the next morning they woke up with massive hangovers and the task of explaining themselves to ice-crazy Elsa.
But on the bright side, at least they didn’t have to deal with guilty consciences or a wasted bonding experience.