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Hornblower & I

 
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Down East



Joined: 08 Feb 2006
Posts: 574
Location: Maine & CT, USA

PostPosted: Sun Feb 26, 2006 1:28 pm    Post subject: Hornblower & I Reply with quote

Hornblower and I

A Withnail & HH Crossover

Portsmouth, England. Winter, 1802

Mrs. Masonís Lodging House.

Morning light filters through a window greasy with lamp soot. Empty bottles and a grimy pack of playing cards litter the floor. An unmade cot, a table and chair take up most of the room. William Bush smokes a cigar and casts his eyes on the bed where Horatio Hornblower lay snoring in an inebriated hang over. Bush gets up and shakes Horatio by the shoulder.

Bush: Horatio, Iím going out, do you want to join me?

He waits for a response. Shakes him again.

Bush: Iím going out! Horatio. Do you want to come?

Horatio (groaning in pain): No!

Bush slams the door behind him, leaving the Mason lodging house. He turns up his collar and and plunges through a sleeting blizzard.

An Inn.

Seated at a table, Bush reads the Naval Gazette. His eyes veer round the dining area. It is crowded with unemployed naval officers, sailors, bar maids. A slovenly looking woman in a dust-cap brings out a platter of greasy eggs and Ham and places it in front of an elderly sailor. The man pokes at the ham and eggs with his knife to see if it moves. He sticks his knife in it and shoves it whole in his mouth. The mix of grease and yolk dribbles down the sides of his chin. Sickened, Bush averts his eyes away to the Gazette.

Bush: Mentally:
Seven thousand Seamen unemployed. They take to the docks of Porstmouth in droves looking for work. And here I am, stuck in a bloody rat infested lodging house. I canít deal with a whist-addicted, Hornblower.
I must be mad to stay! I must speak my mind to him at once.


Back at The Lodging House:

Bush sees Mrs Mason blocking his way to the stairs. She stands with her hands on her hips, smiling with self satisfaction that she has cornered her prey. With difficulty, Bush apologizes and makes an attempt to maneuver his way around her. Mrs Mason of overly ample bustage and making the most of it stands there firm on the rug, smirking. She will not give up her position of advantage. Under the greatest of difficulty and while begining to sweat profusely and color in a most adorable manner, he aplogizes again, and edges his way around her. With delicate grace and nimble footing, Bush attempts to make himself as small as possible, back to the wall. Mrs Mason steps forward at the same time so that she may use the old.....hip lock hold on him. Bush shrinks back once again, and being so nimble footed and agile when he needs to, he slinks by her with only the slightest indelicacy of bodily contact. He is reminded of an old aunt who forgot herself and hugged him to her bosum most inappropriately crushing his face therein. Bush hurriedly stumbles up the stairs. Mrs Mason grins and leers.

MRS MASON: (to herself) Mayb next time, dearie.

She eyes William Bushís backside as he rounds the landing upon the stairway.

The Room.

Hornblower raises himself from the bed holding on to a second pack of cards he had been sleeping with.

Hornblower: Advanced Mathematics! Iíve come up with a new strategy, Mr. Bush.

Bush: I donít want to hear it, Horatio. I donít want to hear anything. God!
Itís bedlam out there!

Hornblower: Weíve run out of rent money. You wonít get your half-pay till next month.
Imperiously Well? What are we going to do about it?

Bush: I donít know! I donít know!
Someone gave me a mixed drink last night.
I think it was spiked with turnip juice and I'm poisened. I feel sick to my insides. Iím in the middle of a turnip overdose. I feel horrible.

Hornblower: So do I.
So does the entire British navy! Sit down! Sit down, Bush!
What ails you? Eat some shipís biscuit.

Hornblower grabs the Naval Gazette and goes to stand by the hearth where a tea kettle hangs over a cold grate. Bush follows him.

Hornblower: {Reading from the Gazette} Listen to this! ĎI ate limes to win prize money!í So says Lieutenant Jack Frye.

Bush: Whereís the tea?

Hornblower: [ignoring him, preoccupied in reading] 'In a naval interview with 38 year old Lieutenant Jack Frye, he admitted to eating massive quantities of limes and mangoes while in Kingston to ward off scurvy. It used to make him ill-tempered and curt, said some of his crew. But now heís stopped and heís a much nicer person.'

Bush pours cold tea into a pewter stein and sits on his cot with it, holding it between his two hands. Hornblower follows him.

Hornblower: By God, that huge gorgon is now considered sane. 'Jack Frye is feeling much better and is ready to renew his position as Master and Commander on any ship of the line in defense of country, kin and kith.' Do you recall him from Jamaica, Bush? Dreadnaughtís toadies. Just the size of his head alone!

Hornblower moved in front of the small wall mirror and fluffed out his bed-head curls. Bush sips his cold tea.

Hornblower: Wasnít he the barbarian that gave you a good thrashing in Kingston! Imagine the size of hisÖ

Bush: (desperately) Please! I donít feel well!

Hornblower: Thatís what you might say, but that wouldnít clear the gun decks with old Jack. No, heíd like a bit of begging. Heíd like to mix some sea salt into your wounds. In fact, heíd probably tell you what he was going to do before he did it. ďIím going to gut you like a mackerel!Ē ďOh! No! Please donít gut me like a mackerel!Ē ďIím going to gut you like a mackerel because--I donít like your guts!Ē

Hornblower only now, notices Bush drinking from the pewter mug.

Hornblower: You have coffee? Why didnít I get any coffee?

Bush: Tea. Cold tea.

Hornblower: Why donít you brew it hot, like any other decent Englishman?

Bush: Why donít you stop gambling the money away! You play whist like a Nobleman in exile!

Hornblower: (engraged) How Dare You! How dare you call me a---Frenchman!

Bush: I didnít call you a Frenchman, you just got the politics confused. Calm down.

Hornblower: Right, you are. Iím going to demand that Mrs. Mason bring us fuel to heat up that tea kettle proper!

In two strides, Hornblower is at the door. Bush jumps up to stop him.

Bush: No, no! You canít! There are things you donít know about her. Youíre in no state to take her on, and neither am I. Youíve been playing whist straight for two days and nights! Wait until midday and weíll go see her together.

Hornblower: It is midday. Stand aside!

Bush: You donít understand! I think she might be---in an amorous condition!

Horatio: What do you mean? Randy?

Bush: Itís likely the case.

Horatio brushes his curls again in the mirror.

Horatio: Then the might of the British navy shall rule the day!

Horatio picks up the kettle and rushes out the door and down the stairs.

Bush: OhóChrist! Sheís in season, Horatio!

Bush finds Horatio standing at the foot of the stairs with Mrs. Mason glowering up at him. She has her hands on her hips, swaying back and forth.

Bush: (muttering) I told you she was randy.

Mrs Mason: Did you want something, Mr. Hornblower?

Horatio: Mr. Bush, come here!

Bush hangs back in the doorway.

Bush: No, no, Iím fine here. Iíve had my tea!

Horatio: You must, you must! Come here!

Bush slinks down the stairs protectively behind Horatio hands him the tea kettle. Mrs Mason is all smiles when she sees Bush.

Mrs. Mason: Why, Mr Bush, what can I do for you?

Bush: Itísóitís cold.

Mrs. Mason: Cold? Do you mean, you would like to share a cup of hot tea with me, Mr. Bush?

Horatio: Weíve no fire in the grate, Ma'm.

Bush: [whispering in Horatioís ear] Donít encourage her. Iíll handle it.

Mrs. Mason: Why donít you nice young gentlemen join me by my fire where itís warm and cozy, and Iíll fix you a nice cup of tea. At No charge.

Bush: Why, no thank you, míam. Weíve got an appointment at Naval Headquarters.

They bound back into their room and shut the door.

Mrs. Mason: [calling up the stairs beligerently] Oh, then I take it youíll be able to pay the back rent on your room, Mr. Hornblower!

Back in the room:

Horatio: I think weíve been in Portsmouth too long. I feel, landlocked. I think we should go for a walk and make rude comments about the way these ships are fitted.

OUTSIDE:

Streets of Portsmouth. Hornblower and Bush walk along the streets leading to the docks. Horatio is dressed only in his jacket. He shivers from the cold.

Horatio: This is absurd! Look at me! Iíve had to sell my greatcoat, my sword, and all my stockings have tears in them.

Bush: Peace canít last forever. It never does.

Horatio: Easy for you to say. Youíre still getting half pay. You can go back to Chichester and let your sisters baby you.
Why canít I have sisters?

Bush: (irritated) Leave my sisters out of it!

Horatio: Iím smart, handsome, I was a Grecian!

Bush snorted.

Horatio: I was promoted acting captain when this bloody peace broke out. I won prize money, and was paid captainís wages. Dammnit! I tell you, I have a sight more going for me than half the officers still in command of the Peacetime Navy. Why canít I have some recognition?

Bush: I donít know. It will happen.

Horatio: Will it? Well, thatís what you say. The only recognition Iím likely to get will be in a bloody court martial! I tell you, I canít take much more of this. Iím going crackers!

Bush: Iím in the same boat.

Horatio: Yeah, yeah. (wearily) I feel as sick as a mollusk. I need to sit down.

They sit on the edge of a sea wall overlooking the icy laden ships that are anchored.

Bush: You know what we should do? I say, you know what we should do?

Horatio: How should I possibly know what we should do?

They both shivered in the biting wind and snow driven at them at a slant.

Bush: Get away for awhile. Take a cottage by the shore or.. an island. We could take out one of those single masted fishing smacks. Rejuvenate.

Horatio: Rejuvenate! Iím sitting on an ice covered seawall staring at a fleet of moored three masters and Iím practically fish bait. Whatís the good of a fishing smack in this weather?

What time is it?

Bush: Itís nearly two.

Horatio: Four hours till the whist tables open up. God help us. Have we got any of that whale oil left?

Bush: What for?

Horatio: To rub all over ourselves, you idiot! Weíll cover ourselves in whale blubber and light whatís left of the candles. Keep ourselves warm until opening time.

Mrs. Masonís Lodgings:

Bush lay back on his cot while Horatio paces around the room in only his breeches smearing whale oil over his pale skin.

Bush: Mentally: Even an hourglass tells the right time twice a day. I believe Horatio is right. We are indeed sailing into the sea of the unfit to serve. Making a mess of our careers. What we need is relaxation. Wine, women, and song.

Bush: Why donít you ask Commodore Pellew for some money. If we had some money we could go away, like---on leave, only proper.

Horatio: Why is it so cold in here! Itís like winter in Copenhagen.
Iíve got to get me a game of whist!
Itís the only solution to this ice pond.
Something has got to be done!
We canít go on like this for much longer!
Iím a Professional single-epauletted Naval Officer of His Majestyís Navy REDUCED TO THE STATUS OF A BUM!

Bush: They can give you another commission. Talk it over with Commodore Pellew.

Horatio: Right! Whereís Pellew now, I ask you!

Bush: Itís Peacetime, he must be home with his family.

Horatio: Rubbish! Iíll give them Peace!

Horatio swipes up the Naval Gazette.

Horatio: Look at this foolish bastard! Jack Frye lands a commission of The Majestic! Of course he does, he's been getting his knees dirty with all the Admirals at Whitehall.
What have you done with my cards?

Bush: What are you talking about?

Horatio: My playing cards? What have you done with them?

Bush: I havenít touched them. Theyíre on the floor, where you left them.

Horatio: How am I supposed to count cards with precision, to a finite mathematical certainty when I canít even read the cards in this dark hole, much less feel them! I canít focus! I can't work like this!

I need a trick!
O God! O God, I need a Trick!
I demand to have some brain food!

He lunges toward the mantelpiece where the whale oil sat in a container.

Bush stands up.

Bush: I wouldnít drink that if I were you.

Horatio: (hostile) Why not?

Bush: Even the lowliest deck swab wouldnít drink that. Itís worse than fish guts on a hot summer day.

Horatio: Nonsense! This is a far superior drink to your old fish guts.
The noble and mighty whale!

Horatio pours it down his throat. He staggers.

Horatio: (choking) Have we got any more?

Bush shakes his head.

Horatio: Youíre holding out on me. What have you got in that seabag?
He staggers forward two, then backs away three.

Horatio: Liar! Can we get a hold of some Stockholm Tar?

Bush: You bloody fool! You should never mix your spirits?

Horatio laughs hysterically and then collapses forward on the floor and vomits.

Horatio: Wasnít much left for you, anyway.

Horatio: Good God! Apart from a raw turnip, thatís the only food thatís passed my lips in two days! I must be ill.


The Longrooms

ďThey were frequented by officers of the navy and the army with money to spare. Bush had heard much about he high stakes that were indulged in at play there, and about the elegance of the refreshments offered by the proprietor.---ďThe games for high stakes are played in there,Ē said Hornblower, pointing to the curtained door.ĒóLieutenant Hornblower, CS Forester.

They enter the smoke filled gentlemanís club, cozy with a large hearth and lighted candles. At the center of the rooms were the general card tables and at the ends were comfortable lounges. Hornblower cases out the players. Itís a simple affair, certainly no hellfire club, just military officers and tradesmen, drinks and cards.

Horatio: All right, hereís the plan. I go in there and make a fourth in a high stakes whist game. Then we have a bit of beef brisket.
Then weíll have claret and brandy.
What is that appalling smell?

Bush: Itís my boots. I had to scrub them with essence of lemon oil.

Horatio: You were holding out on me.

Hornblower moves precariously up to the hearth to warm himself. A servant takes his order.

Horatio: Two large gins, and a pint of ale.

Bush: If Pellew is as loaded as you say, Iíd ask him for money.

Horatio: If Pellew was your commanding officer, he wouldnít give it to you.

The pub worker hands them thier drinks.

Horatio: All aboard!

Horatio clinks his glass against Bushís and downs his gin in one. Bush follows suit but gags.

Bush: What about---whatís his name?

Horatio: What about him?

Bush: Why donít you look him up.

Horatio: What for?

Bush: Ask him if we can be his guests at his country estate.

Horatio: You want me to ask whatís-his-name if we could be his guests at his estate?

Bush: Why not?

Horatio: All right. Where does he live?

Bush: Iíve no idea. Iíve never met him.

Horatio: Well neither have I. What the deuces are you talking about?

Bush: Major Edrington.

Horatio: You mean, [in a nasal voice] My Lord Major Edrington?

Bush: Thatís the one. You and Archie spoke of him. We can hire a coach and spend a weekend in the country, an estate no less. I bet he has fine horses too.

Horatio: Iíve an even better plan. Why donít you work some of that William Bush charm on Mrs. Mason. She could give me a little more time with the back rent. And, Mariah says she was left an old family farm house near Dorset. Sheíd do anything for you if you asked her nicely.

Bush: Are you mad! I wonít! I wonít do it!

Horatio: Give me another farthing, and Iíll think of something.

Bush handed him a few coins.

Bush: Iím going for the chamber pot.

Outside Gentlemanís Chamber Pot room

Next to the door of the gents room sits a rather large brute of a business man sitting with his pint and a Naval Chronicle.

Business Man: Fop!

Bush ignores him and enters the gentís room.

Bush: [to himself] I could hardly aim into the chamber pot with fear. What did I do to offend him? He was as big as Jack Frye, who did thrash me good in Kingston. I didnít mean to offend him. Get any more masculine than that and heíd be nearly bovine. [he reads the grafitti on the wall] ĎI bugger dandies.í ĎWho buggers dandies?í[aloud] Maybe he buggers dandies. [To himself again.] I better get out of here! Iím in danger.

He walks back to the card tables and Hornblower has already seated himself down at one. Bush makes his way quickly to his side.

Business Man: Perfumed Fop!

The card tables.

Horatio has made progress with his ale and was already calculating the odds in a hand of whist. He notices Bush by his side. The elegant gentleman observes Bush suspiciously. Horatio introduces Bush to the three players. They run their eyes over him, to see how much he was worth.

Horatio: Youíll be pleased to hear that Iíve inquired of Major Edringtonís address.

Bush: Good!

Horatio: No one here has the faintest notion of him, though he might be located somewhere in Northumberland, I gather. In lieu of that, Iíve sent a note to Mrs. Mason. The messenger boy came back saying sheís invited us for drinks.

Bush: Hang Mrs. Mason! Look, we need to get out of here.

Horatio: Hang Mrs. Mason? Iíve just spent a good fifteen minutes coming up with a slew of flattering descriptions for the old she wolf. I signed your name to it.

Bush: YOU DID WHAT? Look, thereís a huge beast over there who doesnít like the scent of lemon oil very much. I think we should get out of here.

Horatio: Leave? Iíve just joined in as a fourth!
Iíve got a winning hand here.

Bush: [whispering] Iíve been called a Fop!

Hornblower addresses the room and asks outloud.

Horatio: Who called him a Fop?

The large gentleman gets up from his table and approaches them. He is even larger when standing, with huge hands and arms like ship's masts. He does not look the congenial sort.

Businessman: I called him a Fop, and now Iím calling you one.

Horatio (smiling nervously): Would you like a drink?

Businessman: Whatís your name, Horn-spewer?

Horatio: If you strike me, youíll have the British Navy to answer to.

Businessman: Iíll crush the two of you!

Horatio: Confusion to Robspierre!!!

Hornblowerís cards burst in the air and flutter to the floor and he and Bush flee the longrooms.

MRS MASON'S LODGINGS
Bath CLoset

Bush: Why are we shaving in here?

Horatio: Styles is here.

Bush: Who let him in?

Horatio: I told Mariah he could come round once in a while. Styles gets around town, you see.

Bush: I bet he does.

Horatio: He brings me the gossip. Heís been selling cheap gin on the sly.

Bush: Iíve got your beef brisket. Here, I donít want it.

Horatio: Then stick it in the shaving mug. Save it for later.

Bush: Donít vent bile to me! Iím in the same boat.

Horatio: Stop saying that! Youíre not in the same boat as me. Youíll never be in the same boat with meóever. The only thing youíve been in that Iíve been in, is the navy.

Bush: [to himself] Seaman Styles is here. A liar, a thief and a cheat. He has one friend in the world, Matthews. The only other people he consorts with on land, would be his clients and the occasional boson, prison warden or the press gangs. Purveyor of questionable drink, would we ever be free?


Bush comes out of the bath closet wrapped in a towel. He sees Styles sprawled out on his cot.

Bush: [guardedly] Styles.

Styles studies Mr. Bush, and grins.

Styles: Mr. Bush! Youíd make a good-looking woman, sur!

Bush: Belay that cant!

Styles: I mean, sur, that you look like a picture!

Horatio: Notice he doesnít say a picture of what.

Bush: [to himself] His cheeks were smeared with dirt and his eyes were bloodshot. His reputation on land and sea preceded him. Styles was a rogue.

Hornblower: Howís business, Styles?

Styles: Not so good, sur. People are selling all manner of rotgut andt he competition is keen. Why, if I were to pawn goods of that quality, Itíd ruin my reputation.

Bush: (sarcastically) You wouldnít want that.

Styles: Have you got any food?

Bush: Well, thereís some beef brisket in the shaving mug.

Bush brings it to him. Styles sniffs the brisket.

Styles: Youíre wearing your best uniform, Mr. Hornblower.

Horatio: Whatís it got to do with you, Styles!

Styles: No disrespect, sur! Just making an observation. I was meself looking for a uniform for a gennelmun just last week. For reasons I canít really discuss with you.

Bush: Do spare us.

Styles: Iím sorry sur, [to Hornblower] I canít really get any of the good stuff for you. Iím saving it for my special clients.

Bush: Thatís fine, Styles. Weíre off it for awhile.

Styles: I was thinking of going into another trade.

Horatio: [scornfully] Doing what?

Styles: Puppets--Automatons.

Bush: Puppets!

Horatio: I thought you liked the gin trade.

Styles: Thatís just a sideline. My partner has a idea for making these automaton snuff cases for the gentry folks. See, the idea is to get the puppet to dose out the snuffóor, name your poisen, so alls the gentryís got to do is snort or sip and not think about it.
The gentry wonít feel guilty about dosing themselves.

Bush: Blame the puppet, is that it?

Styles: Thatís right, sur. No guilt. My partner is working on the prototype.

Horatio: What absolute rubbish!

Styles: [to Bush] Whatís eatiní at him?

Horatio: A puppet that takes on your guilt! Iíve heard it all, now.

Styles: [to Hornblower] Are they bringing up new charges against you, sur?

Bush: No, Styles they are not.

Styles: Then why is he dressed in that old fashioned dress uniform?

Horatio: Old Fashioned? This uniform was cut by the best Naval tailors exclusively commissioned by the Admiralty at Whitehall.
Just because the best uniform youíll ever see is above your crude sense of refinement doesnít signify anything.

Styles: Ye neednít be going all Sawyer on me, sur. Because if you do, I might have to bring you one of those Clive cocktails, and if I were to tonic you with that, youíll know youíve been Clived.

Horatio: You wouldnít ever pull a Clive on me, youíre too--LOYAL!

Styles:[leaning forward] If I were to Clive you, youíd think a head wound was a Jamaican Holiday.

Horatio: I can take double of what Sawyer did.

Styles grins: Oóah, I wouldnít say such things as that, sur.

Bush: Never mind him, Horatio. Heís gin-poisened.

Horatio: Iíll not have this rodent-lover insulting me!

Styles: No need to insult me, sur. I was just leaving.

****************
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Desdemona



Joined: 07 Feb 2006
Posts: 183
Location: Lake Wisconsin, USA

PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 7:55 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

"Bush: Mentally: Even an hourglass tells the right time twice a day. I believe Horatio is right. We are indeed sailing into the sea of the unfit to serve. Making a mess of our careers. What we need is relaxation. Wine, women, and song."


OMGOMG!!!! <<laughing hysterically>> Maddy, you outdid yourself this time. I was laughing literally laughing. Good thing I wasn't drinking soda or it would have been out my nose.

I'm going to link to this in my Live Journal, ok? I KNOW there are a lot of Bush lovers and Withnail adorers who would get a major kick out of this!!

You ARE brilliant, DE. Simply brilliant.
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"Bush put both arms round Hornblower's shoulders and walked with dragging feet... Hornblower was the best man in the world and Bush could announce it by singing 'For He's a Jolly Good Fellow' while lurching along the alleyway. " - Lt. Hornblower
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mango



Joined: 31 Jan 2006
Posts: 43
Location: Belfast, Northern Ireland

PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 12:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Fantastic Maddy!! Very Happy

*applauds*

Linz
xxx
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Bushblower



Joined: 16 Feb 2006
Posts: 29

PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 4:22 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh Maddy, this is hysterical!!!

Wow, how did you do that? I love it! And I could so see, and hear it, too.

I think I might enjoy this version better than the original Hornblower.
Lord knows, we needs us some new material and this is priceless.

Horatio and Bush need to do comedy, that's it!

Thanks for posting; this was wonderful!!!!


BRAVO!!!!!
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Down East



Joined: 08 Feb 2006
Posts: 574
Location: Maine & CT, USA

PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 6:29 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yeah, I dunno, take the buddy movie....Withnail and I, and Hornblower and Bush and that's what comes up.

I haven't gone farther with it yet, it makes me laugh to merge the two together, as they all have certain similar character qualities.

Hee, hee.
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emay
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Joined: 29 Jan 2006
Posts: 1240
Location: Nashville, TN

PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 7:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wonderful!! And more of the story would be great.

Estelle
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hergrace



Joined: 27 Feb 2006
Posts: 1

PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 9:49 pm    Post subject: Brilliant Reply with quote

Bloody brilliant! Terrific stuff; I can't wait for the rest of the story. You've truly captured both the essense of Withnail and blended it well with the language and sensibilities of Hornblower.

More!!
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Akka



Joined: 02 Feb 2006
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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 1:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

What talented ladies we have here! GREAT! Very Happy
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drbillbongo



Joined: 29 Mar 2006
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Location: Augsburg, Germany

PostPosted: Mon Apr 24, 2006 10:28 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

OMG. That is absolutely hysterical and hilarious and awesome!! I giggled all the way through it! Brava!!! Laughing
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Sleepily, James countered, "To be sure. Most wickedly. Most assuredly. You should be proud, Jack." ---
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Grace



Joined: 11 Feb 2006
Posts: 472
Location: North Carolina, USA

PostPosted: Mon Apr 24, 2006 6:31 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh my goodness!!!! How did I not see this post before?! This is BRILLIANT, Maddy! And HILARIOUS!!!!!! Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Wow, you wrote it so perfectly!

Heehee, I love this part for some reason, just picturing Horatio's terrified face:

Quote:
Businessman: Whatís your name, Horn-spewer?

Horatio: If you strike me, youíll have the British Navy to answer to.

Businessman: Iíll crush the two of you!

Horatio: Confusion to Robspierre!!!

Hornblowerís cards burst in the air and flutter to the floor and he and Bush flee the longrooms.

Laughing And my other favorite part:

Quote:
Bush: Donít vent bile to me! Iím in the same boat.

Horatio: Stop saying that! Youíre not in the same boat as me. Youíll never be in the same boat with meóever. The only thing youíve been in that Iíve been in, is the navy.

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Saphira



Joined: 14 Jul 2006
Posts: 142
Location: New Jersey

PostPosted: Sun Jul 23, 2006 9:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

ROFLMAO, oh my, this is absolutely hilarious! I was giggling from the very beginning! Laughing
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PretentiousArtWhore



Joined: 25 Feb 2008
Posts: 21
Location: Illinois

PostPosted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 9:17 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

This is f**king hilarious! You rock! Twisted Evil
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Frigate



Joined: 10 Dec 2007
Posts: 354
Location: Kentucky

PostPosted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 2:37 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

ROTFL!! It's amazing how these two totally different storylines come together so well in the hands of a talented writer! What fun! Laughing
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Gibbs: "And why do they use such weird names?"
Tony: "When you're a computer geek invading dungeons and fighting ogres, 'Jethro' doesn't cut it.
[pause]
Tony: "Neither does 'Tony'."

Navy NCIS Naval Criminal Investigative Service 2003
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moetushie



Joined: 14 Jan 2008
Posts: 64
Location: Saint Paul, strangely enough

PostPosted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 7:40 pm    Post subject: Re: Hornblower & I Reply with quote

Down East wrote:

Styles: Ye neednít be going all Sawyer on me, sur. Because if you do, I might have to bring you one of those Clive cocktails, and if I were to tonic you with that, youíll know youíve been Clived.


Two of my favorite things! Laughing
You've been Clived!
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Down East



Joined: 08 Feb 2006
Posts: 574
Location: Maine & CT, USA

PostPosted: Wed Apr 02, 2008 5:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yeah, H Hornblower and Withnail do parrallel each other nicely. You see more of this in the HH books than the films but still, it's there.

Horatio and Withnail :

Uptight & Nervous, agitated and display nervous tics
Display a superior attitude towards others (If you think about it, HH is a closet snob. HH seemed to behave as if he and Lord Edrington were equals in every way than he ever felt towards Bush. HH looks down on Bush (his Marwood) as if Bush/Marwood were a peasant.
HH may have paid all this lip service about feeling inadequate etc...but actions speak louder than words. He shows his true nature when he lords it over Bush and Styles and a number of other underlings.
Avoid what's really at issue by instead focusing on something stupid and inocuous
Vent spleen on their mild mannered buddy/companions right down to the point of contempt----because they can!
Evade intimate relationships -- put everyone away from them
Committment gives them "the fear"
Show direct contempt for others like...Bush & Marwood, Styles, Danny and even the police! (LOL)
Continually pick on their companion buddy -- HH picks on Bush quite often and/or thinks crummy things about Bush, Withnail does the same with Marwood
Withnail and Horatio are addicted to one thing or another which give them an excuse to avoid what they fear.
Withnail is addicted to--booze
HH--is a workaholic and a gambler

So, yeah it was a lot of fun.
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