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Title: Manxome Foe
Word Count: 403

PG for mention of... ill repute?
Pairing: none!
Fandom: Jabberwocky (yes, Jabberwocky), which I don't own.
Author's Notes: Noir based off of Jabberwocky. Really. Go read it. Best if read aloud.

Beta: [livejournal.com profile] masterofmidgets 

                It was brillig that day, brillig and sultry, Slith Toves gyring and gimbling down at the Wabe, Borogroves mimsy as usual, mome raths outgribing in the shadows of the street corners, as I strolled up to the Tum Tum Tree. There stood a Prince – you know the type, all flashy armor and sneers – in uffish thought. Now, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that a scene like that is bad news.

                I’d just left a meeting with an old pal of mine, Bandersnatch. As usual, he knew which way the wind was blowing.


                “Something’s up, Jab, or I ain’t frumious. The Jub Jub Bird’s been quiet – too quiet. He won’t talk, not even for twice the thistle.” ‘Snatch warned.

                “Thanks for the lookout, ‘Snatch. I’ll be careful.” I said, though I had no such intention.

                “You do that, Jab, you do that. Keep the claws and jaws on hand. Never know when you’re gonna need them in this joint.”


                Well, that was then, and this was now, and as I burbled up, I noticed that the kid had a Vorpal, a brand new Sword by the looks of it – too late to take ‘Snatch’s advice. I felt my whiskey solidify in my gut like a raw egg after a hangover, heavy as a lead pipe.

                “Drop the Blade, kid,” I tried, “you don’t wanna do this. The Manxome FOEs won’t forget.”

                Too late. The Vorpal snickersnacked like it always does just before a good FOE goes down. As it one-twoed towards my throat, I thought how beamish the Dad of the Royals gang was gonna be when he saw my head after this Prince’s Galumph.

                It was brillig, brillig and sultry, Slithy Toves gyring and gimbling down at the Wabe, Borogroves mimsy as usual, mome raths outgribing in the shadows of the street corners, the day I died.



Tum Tum Tree – seediest part of town

Slithy Toves – good ‘ol boys, layabouts

Borogroves – drunks

Mome raths – ladies of the evening

Gyring and gimbling – playing poker and billiards

The Wabe – famous local watering hole

Mimsy – tipsy, if not completely plastered

Outgribing – propositioning

Prince – Initiate of the Royals gang

Uffish – dark, brooding, malevolent

Burbled – sauntered

Claws and jaws – cuffs and net

Vorpal Sword, slangily referred to as a Blade – WOMD and very illegal

Manxome FOEs – fuzz, of the Manxome St. Police Dept. FOEs are Federal Officer Elites

Dad – Boss of the Royals

Galumph – initiation

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August 2011

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