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And This Is How It Happenend; Part II – ossia The Medici Meet a Bunch Of People
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Prime Minister of Florence, and he loved to go to churches. He absolutely adored them. In fact, he designed churches for a living. It was weird, but he loved it. He met with the most famous people to paint in them, and also met some lovely ladies that loved him in them, too. He also loved flowers, and often incorporated them into his churches.
His brother sat in front of him,
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towards the front of the cathedral. Although they were side-by-side most of the time, they were never together in churches. Giuliano appreciated the artwork while Lorenzo (his brother) feigned piety.
Of course, Mary/Athena recognized Giuliano because
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of his long-ish hair and weird clothing (she was used to English and Austr-alian ones, rather than Italian ones). He approached her (even though they were sitting right next to each other). Mary had long red/orange hair wand was dressed in an all-black gown. Giuliano instantly fell in love. He wanted to get to know her better, but he was a little shy. He worked up the courage and said,
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“What a beautiful day it is today, isn’t it?” Of course, that wasn’t the question to ask, as it was pouring rain and not quite the best weather…
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(or was it? We may never know…)
And she replied, “Shh… not in church!” In fact, Mary/Athena would rather talk than listen to the mass, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, because Thutmose II or Joseph II might find her again, and she didn’t want that!
Although Mary/Athena’s tone of voice was intended to be threating, that was subjective, being that Giuliano loved her. He moved even closer and said, “I don’t care.”
Mary/Athena heard something move behind her. Is it Thutmose II or Joseph II? She though, Oh, shit… it’s Easter Sunday, 1478! I know what that means…
And someone swung a sword at Giuliano’s head. “Watch out!” Mary/Athena shouted, and pushed Giuliano and herself onto the floor, out of harm’s way. In the commotion (which consisted of people yelling and other people swinging swords atother people), they scrambled out of the cathedral, and ran out of Florence.
When they were at least a mile out of the city, Giuliano said,
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“What’s happening?”
Mary/Athena, Queen of Scotts, replied, “Its April 26, 1478!”
“No duh,” the Prime Minister of Florence commented.
“Those were the Pazzi, and they were trying to kill you and Lorenzo so that they could rule Florence!”
“Lorenzo?” his eyes widened, “My brother? Those bastards!”
“No… they tried to kill him, but you were supposed to die. Lorenzo only got injured…”
“I must go save my brother!” Giuliano screeched.
“No, Giuliano! Its not safe! You mustn’t go and must run as far away as you can! Go, go, go!”
Giuliano did not move, but rather, he contemplated. Should he run away with the girl of his dreams, or save his beloved brother?
“Lorenzo!” he cried as he made his decision, running back towards the city and the cathedral. Mary/Athena ran after him.
She found him about a swallow’s flight away, speaking with a rather skinny man in glasses and funny clothes, which did not look Italian, English, or Austr-alian to Mary/Athena. Finnish, maybe? She thought, Or Austria-Hungarian…
Regardless, “This is Webster Thesaurus,” Giuliano announced, “he knows where Lorenzo is and how we can save him!”
“Don’t I know you?” asked Mary/Athena, studying Webster Thesaurus’ face.
“I used to be a bellows-mender in England,” he replied, “well, it didn’t work out too well for me…”
“Why ever not?” asked the Queen of Scotts.
“Because he suffers from yeastophobia,” Giuliano stated like it was common knowledge, “it is the fear of bread-ingredents.”
“But you’re a bellows-mender,” Mary/Athena was confused.
“Yes,” Giuliano smiled, “Yes he is.”
Mary/Athena was completely dumbfounded. Anyway, Webster Thesaurus knew where Lorenzo was.
Mary/Athena (Queen of Scotts), Giuliano de’ Medici (the Prime Minister of Florence), and Webster Thesaurus (the yeastophobic-bellows-mender-turned-time-traveller) ran to and through Florence, and finally returned to the cathedral, where they found Lorenzo, along with another great mind of that era (and Lorenzo’s BFFL), Sandro Botticelli, cornered at the back of the large room.
Giuliano screamed, “Lorenzo!” and bolted across the room to his brother’s aid. He grabbed a sword out of one of the assassin’s hands, and threatened the rest of them. Mary/Athena had never seen such stupidity
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(well… maybe except for the time that Thutmose II and Joseph II pretended that they were ponies at a tea party, but that is a story for another day).
Another assassin pointed his sword at Giuliano, an son, the Lorenzo-Botticelli duo became the Lorenzo-Botticelli-Giuliano trio. And it was about ot become the Lorenzo-Botticelli-Giuliano-Mary/Athena quartet (if only it were 1775, because then another person, such as a composer, could join in on the fun, and it would be the Lorenzo-Giuliano-Mary/Athena-Botticelli-Boccherini quintet! Add an E Major to that, and you’ve got yourself a concert at Teatro Alla Scalla!)
Sadly, our concert would have to be canceled because Mary/Athena
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“I knew this would happen,” said Webster Thesaurus.
Then, the strangest thing happened. Either out of anger, desperation (after all, her ex-boyfriend, Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, was once again the #1 most wanted person because he had returned from his authorship to his circus tricks), or pure insanity (or all three), Mary/Athena stormed up to Webster Thesaurus and kissed him.
Giuliano screamed. Lorenzo and Botticelli tried to shut him up. Giuliano couldn’t help his screaming because he had just seen the girl of his dreams kiss a man that was as awkward as Webster Thesaurus (to Lorenzo, it seemed like the story of Dante and Beatrice).
Then, Giuliano screamed even louder, because right then, he saw another man sneaking behind Mary/Athena, Queen of Scotts, with a sword!
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It was awesome because then they all found unicorns and rode them into space as a walrus danced to What Does the Fox Say. The end. For the moment.
I N T E R M I S S I O N
Snacks - $1.00 ea.
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Okay. That’s not what really happened. Rather, this is:
Giuliano was still screaming (and by now, Lorenzo and Botticelli had stopped trying to shut him up because it was no use anyway – at the moment, it seemed as if they were all going to die!) because someone was approaching Mary/Athena, Queen of Scotts (the heroine of our story and its predecessor), from behind.
It was
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Charles Dickens, Mary/Athena’s future life in reincarnation. He wanted to kill her so that he could become a genius earlier than he has already. And, he wanted to meet a better woman so he didn’t have to be bouncing around with them so often.
Charles successfully cut off one strand of Mary/Athena’s red hair before being tackled by Lorenzo, who wanted his brother to stop screaming. Lorenzo then proceeded to move Webster Thesaurus to a position where he could not be kissed by Mary/Athena (they had been kissing this whole time) any longer (which was in Canada underneath an iceberg – which was filled with bread-ingredients!), then moved the still-screaming Giuliano to where Webster Thesaurus was. So now, Mary/Athena was kissing Giuliano with Charles Dickens on the floor crying and Webster Thesaurus in Canada.
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Meanwhile, the assassins had just regained their bearings, and the ones Mary/Athena and Lorenzo knocked unconscious (did I mention that before? Oops. They were knocked out before) had just been revived after Lorenzo tripped on their faces while he was in the process of moving his brother and his now officially declared arch-nemesis (Webster Thesaurus) into their rightful positions on the floor (or, in Webster Thesaurus’ case, Canada).
Upon seeing the strange scene before them, the assassins drew their sticks (they had run out of swords) and began a terribly futile attempt to beat the Lorenzo-Giuliano-Botticelli-Mary/Athena quartet, except they failed because they couldn’t see due to the fact that all of the assassins wore eye-patches (because all cool people wear eye-patches) and the Pazzi each wore two because they thought it would make them twice as awesome as they already thought they were.
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Although he wanted to be twice as awesome as most pirates, Pazzi, and other eye-patch wearing groups, Francesco de’ Pazzi, the leader of the conspirators, removed his left eye-patch.
Above him, in all of his cheesy glory, stood Mr. Ryan, the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola.
“Oh, my Lord!” exclaimed Francesco de’ Pazzi, and he immediately threw himself at the feet of the ruler of the Island Kingdom of Gorgonzola in the Mountains.
Since Charles Dickens was still bawling on the floor, he did not immediately notice the Grand Duke (not that he cared). Nonetheless, the other assassins did notice, and they followed Francesco de’ Pazzi’s example of obedience. Lorenzo and Sandro Botticelli also bowed politely on their back legs. Giuliano was still kissing Mary/Athena and neither of them noticed that the Grand Duke was present. Lorenzo then inched over to Giuliano and poked him, indicating the presence of this amazing ruler. (as you can tell, the Florentines were very fond of the Island Kingdom of Gorgonzola in the Mountains, it’s ruler, and it’s #1 export: gorgonzola cheese.)
Anyway, Giuliano stepped away from Mary/Athena, and bowed to the Grand Duke.
“Mary/Athena, Queen of Scotts,” the Grand Duke began. Although she saw that almost everyone in the room was bowing to this man (save for Charles Dickens), Mary/Athena did not recognize him. He was dressed strangely. She concluded that he must be important. “I have comet o inform you,” he continued, “that Thutmose II, your marshmallow-allergic arch-nemesis, is approaching, and will arrive in 14 billion seconds.”
“My Lord!” exclaimed Giuliano.
“What is it, Giuliano de’ Medici?”
“You must help Mary/Athena escape! I love her with all of my heart, and would give anything to save her. I urge you to help her, My Lord!”
The Grand Duke contemplated that for a moment, as he new a grand secret about Mary/Athena and the Medici. But, he decided, “So be it. I hall help you. Hark! We must
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hurry, as 14 billion seconds is a short period of time.”
The Grand Duke of the Island Kingdom of Gorgonzola in the Mountains gave each of the participants a piece of Gorgonzola cheese. It was partially melted, and stuck to their hands.
Eww, thought Mary/Athena to herself. She gave the cheese a sniff, double eww, and she scrunched up her nose.
“When I tell you to, smash the piece of cheese on the floor,” the Grand Duke instructed, “They work very much like the pearls in the Percy Jackson movie (which was terrible, by the way). Think of a place, and you will be transported there.” Mary/Athena didn’t know what a Percy Jackson was, but still got the idea. “You now have my blessings,” tiny triangles of cheese appeared on the shoulders of the quartet. Giuliano’s shoulders were covered, but still felt a trickling sensation down his arm.
“Quick, now!” 14 billion seconds was up. It had been roughly 44 years since the previous conversation started, as the Grand Duke often spoke very slowly during important times, and time goes very quickly while in Rome Florence (Lorenzo was surprised that his gout wasn’t acting up yet).
Anyway, they all threw their gorgonzola pieces on the floor and thought of places.
Mary/Athena was Roslyn, New York, and it was the 21st Century now!
Giuliano didn’t go anywhere because the cheese stuck to his hands. “No!” he screamed.
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The assassins approached and surrounded him. “How now, noble lords?” he asked, “Bless thee… good morrow… uh…” he was running out of Shakespearean phrases, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”
“We don’t like Shakespeare,” Francesco de’ Pazzi smiled evilly.
“Uh… do you like yellow stockings, then?”
“No, we don’t like Shakespeare, you idiot!”
“Uh oh…” and then he screamed.
“Sucks for you!” Francesco de’ Pazzi laughed. He had replaced both of his eye-patches, and now all of the Pazzi were up, off the floor, since the Grand Duke had magically disappeared. “Lord Thutmose II will be very pleased…”
Anyway, Sandro Botticelli appeared at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City with Lorenzo at his side. You see, Sandro had wished that he were in a place where fine arts were appreciated, and Lorenzo wished to be with him.
Regardless, Mary/Athena was in the middle of Roslyn Village, where a small crowd had gathered around her (they thought a Ren Fair was setting up).
“Does anyone know where the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola is?” she asked desperately. The crowd laughed and left. One young woman remained.
“Mr. Ryan, you mean?” she asked. She had heard of her son tell her of the stories that his English teacher would tell.
“I suppose so,” Mary/Athena replied.
“Come with me,” the woman took Mary/Athena to the Roslyn Middle School, and asked at the main office for Mr. Ryan. The secretary sent them up to his room.
Mary/Athena knocked at the door. A man, who looked much like the Grand Duke (except in different clothing), opened, and welcomed her into the classroom. It was full of teenage students who looked at Mary/Athena strangely.
“My Lord,” she inquired, “Grand Duke… we must save Giuliano – I do not know how, but the cheese did not work, and…” she rambled on.
“Mr. Ryan?” a student asked, “Who is this lady?”
“Why, this is… uh… the Grand Duchess of Gorgonzola!” he exclaimed.
“Your daughter looks nothing like her!” one of the students exclaimed after a moment.
“Indeed, she does not,” Mr. Ryan smiled.
“What shall we do, Grand Duke?” Mary/Athena repeated.
“One moment, Mary/Athena…” he replied, and then addressed his students:
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“Keep reading your books, and remember to take notes. Big Questions are essential!” The students focused on reading, and Mr. Ryan peered out the door, holding it a small bit open so he could keep an eye on the class.
“Okay, listen – I can’t really talk right now. I’m teaching! Can I meet you after class?”
“How long will it take? It’s very important – we can’t let Giuliano die!”
“It’ll be over soon, but school ends very late,
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as we have a–”
He began to go back into the classroom, but Mary/Athena grabged his collar and pulled him back into the hallway.
“Excuse my French, Grand Duke, but nous devons sauver Giuliano ou Thoutmosis II et Joseph II allons le tuer!”
“What?” he asked, as he did not understand the Queen of Scotts.
“I said, ‘Excuse my French’. Do you not speak French?”
“No.”
“What has the world come to?”
“Tell me in English.”
“If we don’t save Giuliano, Thutmose II and Joseph II will kill him! And if Giuliano dies, Lorenzo will kill me! Just like he would’ve done to Francesco de’ Pazzi if what should have happened did happen… and I don’t want to hang from the side of a building!”
The Grand Duke of the Island Kingdom of Gorgonzola in the Mountains sighed. He looked into the classroom. “I’ll need someone to cover my class…”
“How about that Botticelli character?”
“A-ha! I know whom!” he took some cheese out of his pocket, and threw it on the floor. Magically, a man in a uniform appeared. “Frosch, watch my class,” the Grand Duke instructed.
“Ja, Herr Warden Frank!” he replied enthusiastically. He then went into the classroom, and declared, “I’m Frosch, and I’ll be your jailer…”
Anyway, Mary/Athena and the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola magically (and cheesily) appeared in the American Wing’s café in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where Lorenzo and Sandro Botticelli were
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having coffee, which tasted weird to them. After all, coffee was introduced to Europe after 1478.
“Grand Duke!” Lorenzo bowed and Sandro followed. “What brings you here?”
“Well, Giuliano is in danger. He was not transported anywhere and stayed where he was! Charles Dickens, Thutmose II, and Joseph II may kill him!”
“To hell with Giuliano,” a voice from behind them shouted. They all turned to see Webster Thesaurus prancing out from behind a nearby statue of Cleopatra. He looked utterly happy and joyous.
“I’m so glad you are all here! Now, if you all would just come with me–”
“I thought you were in Canada, under an iceberg!” Mary/Athena cried apprehensively, hiding behind the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola. Sandro and Lorenzo followed, creating a conga line of non-congaing people.
“If you know your geography, Canada is quite close to New York. I wasn’t that near to here, but I managed…”
“Where were you, then?” Sandro asked curiously.
“Why, I was in Hudson Bay! And while I was there, I picked up a few powers like your Grand Duke.”
“Powers are only inherited,” the Grand Duke said, crossing his arms and looking very mighty.
“Well, I’m now the
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Count of Monte Cristo!”
“Wait, what?” Lorenzo asked, “Isn’t Monte Cristo in Italy?”
“SHUT UP!” he screamed,
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“Anyway, the people there loved my ideas and inherited me. Incidentally, there was no heir to the Countship, so I came around just in time! Thank you, my dearest Lorenzo, for putting me in Canada.”
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“But Monte Cristo is–”
“SHUT UP!”
The quartet (of Mary/Athena, Lorenzo, Giuliano, and the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola) was stupefied.
“Now, I can all bring you to my Lords, Thutmose II and Joseph II, and, after taking all of your awesome powers from you, WE WILL RULE THE WORLD!!”
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“No offense, but that one’s a bit overused,” Mary/Athena pointed out.
“Aw, stuff it!” Webster declared. “It doesn’t matter anyhow, because soon you will find yourselves bowing before me, and watching as I annihilate your insignificant faces! Mwahchahaha…”
The quartet looked at him strangely as he attempted to laugh like a stereotypical evil villain, but he failed epically as he coughed and choked on his own spit, producing a sound that resembled a dying frog.
“Oh, for heavens’ sake, that was so wrong in so many ways,” Lorenzo ground, face-palming, “That was such a lame speech. It’s physically, literally, and technically impossible to watch you if our faces are being blown up. (Try to wrap your tine brain around that concept, ha!) and you’re just a servant. Your words are insignificant and meaningless, you fool! Ah-ha-ha – ack-sputter…” the others watched as deja-vu came and Lorenzo, too, was coughing like chocking cat.
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“Shit, my gout is catching up with me.”
“Gout doesn’t make you cough,” Webster Thesaurus pointed out.
“Go take a walk with Virgil, you yeasty lily-livered pantaloon!”
“Excusez-moi,” he exclaimed, “I am the Count of Monte Cristo! AND NOBODY LIKES SHAKESPEARE ANYMORE!!!”
“Yes, but Dantès was a lot cooler than you,” Sandro crossed his arms.
The new Count of Monte Cristo then went into a long speech about how he has power over everyone and they must bow to him. But, the quartet stopped listening, and fled. They ran out of the American wing (where the café where Lorenzo and Botticelli were drinking their ‘coffee’ was) and up two sets of old stairs, through the Renaissance art (which Lorenzo had to drag Botticelli out of), and into the musical instrument area.
There were a few people in there, but the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola took out a piece of taleggio cheese and its smell scared everyone away. (It did not scare Lorenzo or Botticelli because they were Italian and loved taleggio – they devoured it as soon as the area was cleared).
“Okay,” Lorenzo breathed heavily after running and eating the semi-soft cheese, “Grand Duke, you must send us back to Florence so we may save my dearest brother.”
“I would send you to Florence,” he replied, “But that wouldn’t be very helpful…”
“Why ever not?!” exclaimed Lorenzo, “Is my brother… dead?”
“Shut up, Fiordiligi, not yet.”
“WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO HIM?!?!?!”
“Who’s Fiordiligi?” Sandro asked, “Such a pretty name… maybe I’ll paint her one day…”
“Lorenzo, I’m sorry, but Thutmose II and Joseph II have entrusted him into the ‘protection’ of a man named Baron Scarpia.”
“Oh shit!” Botticelli cursed.
“You know him?” asked Mary/Athena.
“No, his name just sounds ominous.”
“So who is he?” asked Lorenzo.
“He is the chief of the secret police of Rome…”
“Then send us there!” exclaimed Lorenzo.
“So be it,” the Grand Duke sighed, “I will stay here so I may hold off Webster Thesaurus from coming back to you.”
“Thank you, Grand Duke!” exclaimed Lorenzo. The Grand Duke of Gorgonzola then used his cheesy powers to send the trio to Rome.
They arrived in front of Palazzo Farnese, the home of Baron Scarpia.
A scream was heard out of the building. Lorenzo’s head perked up. “That’s Giuliano!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, no…” Mary/Athena frowned.
The trio made their way into the building, and ran towards the source of the screaming.
They barged into an apartment. A young woman was sitting on the floor with Giuliano lying on the floor, quietly sobbing, with his head in her lap.
“Antonia?!” Botticelli exclaimed, “Why are you here?!”
“Sandro?!” the woman asked, “Mary Stuart? Lorenzo de’ Medici?!”
“My name is Mary/Athena, ah-hem.”
“Lorenzo?” Giuliano gasped.
“Oh Freunde, nich dise Töne! Sondern lass uns angenehmere anstimmen, und freudenvollre, Freunde!” Sandro Botticelli sang, quoting Beethoven.
“He’s right, you know,” the young woman said.
Someone started singing, “Freunde, schöner Götterfunken Tochter aus Elysium…” from Symphony no. 9 in the background – it may have been someone outside, but we may never be sure.
“Oh, Floria!” a man’s voice called.
“Oh, hell, it’s Scarpia!” the woman, Antonia, exclaimed.
“We’ve come for Giuliano,” Lorenzo quickly told her.
“Obviously,” she sighed, “You better take him before Scarpia returns.”
“What did they do to him?”
“Torture.”
“What?!” Lorenzo was horrified, “What king is the question.”
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“I think they were making him eat something, though I’m not sure. He has terrible indigestion,” Antonia told them, pointing at his stomach. It was swollen and stripped with colors of red, white, and blue. Mary/Athena winced.
“That’s terrible!” Sandro looked at his BFFL’s brother with sympathy.
“They first tried to teach him American history, but then he ate the textbooks, apparently. Scarpia was enraged, and made him try to eat America, minus Oregon. Scarpia liked sogginess, so he kept it for himself. However, it gave him terrible stomach pain, and he is now barfing it up in the bathroom.”
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“What should we do?” cried Lorenzo, “Poor Giuliano…”
“I know!” exclaimed Sandro,” I once had indigestion, and the Grand Duke was in town – so he gave me some gorgonzola, and it eased the pain!”
“We must find some gorgonzola!” Mary/Athena shouted. The trio raced into the kitchen and dining room, and almost did not find any of the special cheese, but Mary/Athena noticed a small box, which contained an abundance of gorgonzola.
“Huzzah!” they cheered as Antonia fed Giuliano the cheese. The patriotic stars and stripes on Giuliano’s stomach faded away, and he instantly felt better.
“I did not choose to eat the textbooks,” he told his brother, “It was forced upon me! And it was just a cake shaped like America, actually.”
“Are you okay?” Lorenzo demanded, “They did not hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine. But we must defeat Thutmose II and Joseph II, because they are planning to take over the world soon!”
Giuliano told them how he overheard Scarpia talking to Thutmose II, and how he now knows that their headquarters is in the city of
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The year was 1545 (the year after 1544), and all hope was lost because Mary/Athena, Queen of Scotts (the heroine of our previous story) was dead… or was she? No, in fact, she was not. And she had found that she was in Florence, Italy, but the year was no longer 1545, but rather 1479 – 66 years earlier!
The date was April 26, and all the people of Florence were at church – because that’s what people did back then, you know.
So, Mary/Athena knew that Thutmose II, her marshmallow-allergic arch-nemesis, and Joseph II, also her arch-nemesis (he was not marshmallow-allergic, but he was friendly with Thutmose II, just like all people with a II in their names are!) were on her trail. Yet, she knew that both of them were allergic to churches. So, she hid in il Duomo – which was the closest church she could find – where Easter mass was being preached.
She came in, and sat down on one of the pews. Next to her was a young man named Giuliano. He was the