I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts (deedle lee deedle lee). There they are all standing in a row (bom bom bom). Big ones, small ones, ones as big as your—
Flobberworms and Gargoyles! It's you again. Ahem. I was not singing. I was just, er—
You know what? I don't have to answer to you. I am the narrator, and what are you? Nothing. So there.
. . .
What are you doing here, anyway? Ah, I suppose you want to know what happens next. Well, fine, I suppose I can carry on with the story. Now where did we leave off? Ah, yes . . .
-o-
Ginny awoke the next morning feeling very irritable indeed. She did not fall off the monstrous bed, but she did have a very uncomfortable sleep. For all her masses of mattresses and blankets, she still felt something digging into her back the whole night, and no amount of shuffling and changing positions could change that fact.
"Bloody mental, these people are," Ginny grumbled, climbing back down the ladder.
Only the most bizarre of people would force their guest to sleep on a bed of twenty mattresses, which even then felt like it had a great dirty spring digging into her body.
She dropped ungracefully to the floor and dusted off her robes, only to stop short as she saw the same queen and king standing in front of her from the night before.
"Good morning," the queen said brightly. "How was your sleep?"
"Awful!" Ginny retorted, deciding she would not waste her civility on these deceiving people. "If I wasn't worrying about falling off the damn thing, I had to put up with something sticking into my back the whole night – yes, and now I'm covered in bruises!"
The queen gasped and then clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, Trevor, we've finally found a real princess! Do let Prince Humperdinck know."
"Humperdinck?" Ginny repeated, pulling a face. "What kind of name is that?"
But Trevor had already run off. Ginny soon found herself being swept out of the room and down the corridor, the queen jabbering in her ear the whole time about a pea and how only real princesses could be sensitive enough to feel such a small thing under so many mattresses.
Ginny decided everyone in the castle was insane and was just thinking she would have to escape when Prince Humperdinck appeared before her. He had messy black hair, green eyes (which shined like emeralds), and an (ugly) scar on his forehead. He was also wearing glasses.
"Harry?" Ginny exclaimed, completely nonplussed.
How on earth had Harry got into the book?
"My name is Humperdinck," the Harry look-a-like said with a blinding smile. "And you – you shall be my wife."
Ginny stared, and then—
"No!" she said firmly, taking a step back.
"But I've been looking everywhere for you!" Harry-Humperdinck cried, looking quite crestfallen.
"Too bad," the redhead snapped, "I don't want to marry you!" She scrunched up her face in distaste. "Besides, your name is Humperdinck."
"But you can't say no. No one ever says no. I'm the prince!"
"Well, I don't think much of your high-and-mighty ways, Prince," Ginny said tartly. "How dare you demand I marry you without even asking my opinion? I'll have you know that in my kingdom, us females have rights, and I will not be bossed around by some purple-tight wearing idiot with a crown that looks like plastic!"
"My word," Trevor exclaimed, staring at Ginny as if she were a talking fish. "Are you sure this young lady is a princess?"
"She felt the pea, didn't she?" the queen retorted.
"Of course she is a princess," Harry-Humperdinck said, shaking his head. "I expect she's just delirious from the cold and sleeping on the pea. I'm sure with some rest she will realise that she really does want to be my wife, and then we'll all live happily ever after."
"I won't marry you!" Ginny bellowed, stamping her foot. "I won't! I won't! You're all mad, and when I get my wand back, I'll—"
"You mean you really won't marry me?" Harry-Humperdinck interjected, looking rather red about the ears.
"Didn't I just say that! Now—"
The prince suddenly scowled in fury. "GUARDS!" he cried, clicking his fingers. "SEIZE HER!"
"Oh, bugger!" Ginny exclaimed, and promptly made a run for the doors.
There was much leaping and shoving as the guards chased her. At one point, Ginny found the hem of her cloak being held by the panting queen, who told Ginny through gritted teeth that she was the only real princess in the land and had no choice but to marry Harry-Humperdinck or be thrown into the dungeons. With great presence of mind, Ginny kicked the queen in the face and then pushed past two guards blocking her exit, darting through the doors and screaming madly at the top of her lungs that they were all insane.
Thankfully, poor Ginny did manage to escape the castle parameters before she was forced to marry the Harry-Humperdinck prince, but the guards continued to chase her all the way into a forest. It took her a while, but she did end up losing the guards eventually; unfortunately, she also succeeded in losing herself.
"Bollocks," Ginny grumbled, staring about the maze of trees. "Where the hell am I?"
The forest made no reply (it was just a forest, after all), so Ginny was given no choice but to keep walking and hope that she would find some sign of civilisation (and food) soon. Luck seemed to be on her side that day; she had not walked for more than thirty minutes before she could hear the sound of trumpets and many people talking and laughing.
"There must be a festival going on somewhere," Ginny mused aloud, her eyes alighting with a greedy glow.
Festivals, you must know, mean celebrations, and celebrations mean food.
No longer feeling tired and grumpy, Ginny set off at a run towards the sound of the trumpets. She finally came to a very decadent looking town, which boasted an equally magnificent palace at its centre. To her delight, there was indeed a celebration going on. Upon questioning some of the locals, an old man told her that the emperor was having a procession to show off his new clothes.
"Oh, really?" Ginny replied, not particularly interested in the emperor's new clothes; indeed, she was paying more attention to the bread in her hand, which was then stuffed with surprising speed into her mouth.
"Look!" the old man exclaimed, pointing a knobbly finger in the direction of the palace. "Here comes the emperor now!"
Ginny turned to look and almost choked on her bread as she saw a very familiar boy with blond hair and pointy (yet handsome) features come walking confidently down the stone steps. The emperor was Draco Malfoy, but what stunned her most of all was that he was not wearing a strip of clothing on his body; indeed, he was completely naked.
She stared. And then she stared some more. And then her face went bright red, though whether this was from embarrassment or suppressed laughter remained to be seen, for the redhead did indeed start laughing.
"Gracious, Missy, what is so funny?" the old man asked, concerned.
"He's not wearing any clothes!" Ginny exclaimed, wiping tears of laughter away from her eyes.
The old man gave a small cough. "Well, you know, I was thinking the same thing, but I didn't want to say anything. You know what they say: only stupid people or people who can't do their jobs properly can't see the magical clothes."
Ginny shook her head, still giggling. "No way. He's just walking around naked."
The people around the redhead who had heard her comment seemed to come to the same conclusion, whereas before they had all joined in admiring the emperor's clothes, afraid lest they should appear stupid. Even Draco looked a bit uncertain the further he walked down the street. He saw Ginny doubled up with laughter, and a glint of recognition came into his eyes, and then he was striding towards her – pasty arse displayed to the world and all.
"You!" Draco growled, pointing his finger at her. "So this is your doing, is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny retorted, then promptly fell into another fit of giggles, unable to keep a straight face when confronted with the naked Slytherin.
He saw her eyes dart to the lower part of his anatomy and flushed a deep red, though he made no attempt to cover himself, clearly thinking that was beneath his dignity. Malfoys, it seemed, had very odd ideas about dignity.
"I'll have you know that my clothes are special," he told her haughtily, trying to save face. "You're just too stupid to see them."
"You keep telling yourself that, Malfoy," Ginny responded between giggles. "By the way, is it a bit cold here?"
She gave him a pointed look, and his blush deepened as he caught her meaning. Without another word, he snatched the robe off the man next to him and wrapped it around his own body. Then he grabbed Ginny by the elbow and dragged her away – right out of sight from all the people who had been staring at them curiously, and who even now were demanding where their 'emperor' was going.
"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, tugging at her arm. "Let me go!"
He released her at once and then turned to glare at her. "Alright, Weasley," Draco began, folding his arms, "what did you do?"
"What?"
"Don't give me that innocent rubbish. One minute I was doing my homework in the library, and the next thing I know I'm suddenly in this place and everyone is calling me 'Emperor'. You're the only person who has called me 'Malfoy', so I'm assuming you must be from my world too. Now I'll ask you again: what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Ginny retorted. "At least, not to you anyway. I was just trying to do some research for my essay when I got sucked into The Book of Fairy Tales. I don't know how you ended up here."
He frowned, seeming to realise she was speaking the truth. "I don't understand," he muttered, more to himself.
"Didn't that old man Gus come and visit you when you first came here?" Ginny asked curiously.
"Gus?" Draco repeated slowly. "No, but a woman named Augustus Auegentinia Arglecrumple – who liked to be called Gussie – did tell me that while I didn't have 'sparkling blue eyes', I'd have to do."
"Have to do for what?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just know that after falling through some pink clouds, I ended up in that palace back there. Everyone thought I was their emperor—"
"I bet you loved that," Ginny interposed dryly.
He looked down his nose at her. "Just because you have no respect for your superiors doesn't mean everyone else can't appreciate quality when they see it. If those people wanted me to be their emperor, I wasn't going to deny them. It's only natural they should want to worship me."
"I can't believe you said that with a straight face," Ginny said, eyeing him in a mixture of wonder and disgust. "Your ego must be really big."
"It's not being egotistical when it's the truth," Draco said simply.
"Whatever," she retorted, folding her arms.
They were silent for a moment, and then a grin suddenly came to her face. "So why were you walking around naked, anyway?"
Pink splotches settled on his cheeks. "Two men came to the palace and said they were going to make me some magical clothes."
Ginny giggled. "Those were some magical clothes, alright. They were so magical that no one could see them."
Draco gave an exasperated huff, turning away to hide his blush. "Yes, well, enough about that. We need to figure out what we're going to do from here."
"We?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, 'we'."
"I'm surprised; I didn't think a Malfoy would want anything to do with a Weasley."
"Then you must be stupider than I thought," he said shortly. "I may not like you, Weasley, but I'm not about to be stuck in this place by myself. It'll be much easier to make it out of here together."
"You're right," she agreed, much struck by this thought.
"Do you have your wand?" he asked hopefully.
She shook her head.
He sighed. "I don't either. It got lost when I first came here."
"Mine too."
"I don't suppose we'll ever find the way out of here then," Draco said gloomily, looking the epitome of despair.
Ginny frowned. "Gus told me that if I acted out the fairy tales and got a happily ever after, I would be able to get out of this place. Maybe it will work for the both of us."
"Just what are you suggesting?" Draco asked, staring at her warily.
"I'm suggesting we go find ourselves a fairy tale."
"Forgive me if I say that doesn't sound like the smartest idea you've had. In case you've forgotten, Weasley, some of these fairy tales are not exactly the nicest stories. I don't know about you, but I don't plan on being eaten by an old hag living in a ginger bread house, or having my eyes blinded by a witch with the power to smother a castle in thorns."
"Then we'll be cautious about which fairy tales we look for," Ginny retorted. "If you have a better idea for what we can do, by all means tell me."
Draco glowered at her, knowing he did not have any better ideas.
Ginny smiled smugly. "Then it's settled."
She stalked off into the distance without a further word. The blond heaved a weary sigh and reluctantly followed.
"How do I get myself into these things?" he grumbled.
"Come on, Malfoy!" Ginny called over her shoulder. "Keep up!"
Draco narrowed his eyes, but quickened his pace anyway.
-o-
Hack, hack. Cough, cough.
Oh, phooey. I've lost my cough drops again.
What are you staring at? Demanding little cretins. I tell you a story and you just expect me to keep going and going. Well, I shan't. I'm tired and cranky, and I have a darn cough coming on. You should be grateful I'm taking the time to even tell you this, considering the rubbish I've had to put up with.
Just look at this mess: I have a heroine who has no grace and has the manners of a troll, and a hero who – though he may look the part – was stupid enough to go and get himself stuck in the Emperor's New Clothes fairy tale and prance around showing his naked body to all of the Enchanted Lands. This was not what I had planned for. Ginny is supposed to be trapped in a tower by now and waiting for her hero to save her. And the hero – the hero is supposed to be good and dashing, not arrogant and vain, or – or worrying more about his clothes than his lady's wellbeing.
I'll admit, he looks much better than that messy-haired scar-head we had to put up with earlier, but why oh why must he have the heroic instincts of a – well, of a Flobberworm!
Blast it! Why do I always get stuck with people who refuse to conform to my fairy tale archetypes? I should have called in sick. I should have gone and hid in a cave! I should have done something – anything – except agree to be the narrator of Ginny Weasley's life!
That's it. No more nice narrator. From now on, they're playing this my way!
Hack, hack. Cough, cough.
Ahem, but first I need to find my cough drops.
Flobberworms and Gargoyles! It's you again. Ahem. I was not singing. I was just, er—
You know what? I don't have to answer to you. I am the narrator, and what are you? Nothing. So there.
. . .
What are you doing here, anyway? Ah, I suppose you want to know what happens next. Well, fine, I suppose I can carry on with the story. Now where did we leave off? Ah, yes . . .
Ginny awoke the next morning feeling very irritable indeed. She did not fall off the monstrous bed, but she did have a very uncomfortable sleep. For all her masses of mattresses and blankets, she still felt something digging into her back the whole night, and no amount of shuffling and changing positions could change that fact.
"Bloody mental, these people are," Ginny grumbled, climbing back down the ladder.
Only the most bizarre of people would force their guest to sleep on a bed of twenty mattresses, which even then felt like it had a great dirty spring digging into her body.
She dropped ungracefully to the floor and dusted off her robes, only to stop short as she saw the same queen and king standing in front of her from the night before.
"Good morning," the queen said brightly. "How was your sleep?"
"Awful!" Ginny retorted, deciding she would not waste her civility on these deceiving people. "If I wasn't worrying about falling off the damn thing, I had to put up with something sticking into my back the whole night – yes, and now I'm covered in bruises!"
The queen gasped and then clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, Trevor, we've finally found a real princess! Do let Prince Humperdinck know."
"Humperdinck?" Ginny repeated, pulling a face. "What kind of name is that?"
But Trevor had already run off. Ginny soon found herself being swept out of the room and down the corridor, the queen jabbering in her ear the whole time about a pea and how only real princesses could be sensitive enough to feel such a small thing under so many mattresses.
Ginny decided everyone in the castle was insane and was just thinking she would have to escape when Prince Humperdinck appeared before her. He had messy black hair, green eyes (which shined like emeralds), and an (ugly) scar on his forehead. He was also wearing glasses.
"Harry?" Ginny exclaimed, completely nonplussed.
How on earth had Harry got into the book?
"My name is Humperdinck," the Harry look-a-like said with a blinding smile. "And you – you shall be my wife."
Ginny stared, and then—
"No!" she said firmly, taking a step back.
"But I've been looking everywhere for you!" Harry-Humperdinck cried, looking quite crestfallen.
"Too bad," the redhead snapped, "I don't want to marry you!" She scrunched up her face in distaste. "Besides, your name is Humperdinck."
"But you can't say no. No one ever says no. I'm the prince!"
"Well, I don't think much of your high-and-mighty ways, Prince," Ginny said tartly. "How dare you demand I marry you without even asking my opinion? I'll have you know that in my kingdom, us females have rights, and I will not be bossed around by some purple-tight wearing idiot with a crown that looks like plastic!"
"My word," Trevor exclaimed, staring at Ginny as if she were a talking fish. "Are you sure this young lady is a princess?"
"She felt the pea, didn't she?" the queen retorted.
"Of course she is a princess," Harry-Humperdinck said, shaking his head. "I expect she's just delirious from the cold and sleeping on the pea. I'm sure with some rest she will realise that she really does want to be my wife, and then we'll all live happily ever after."
"I won't marry you!" Ginny bellowed, stamping her foot. "I won't! I won't! You're all mad, and when I get my wand back, I'll—"
"You mean you really won't marry me?" Harry-Humperdinck interjected, looking rather red about the ears.
"Didn't I just say that! Now—"
The prince suddenly scowled in fury. "GUARDS!" he cried, clicking his fingers. "SEIZE HER!"
"Oh, bugger!" Ginny exclaimed, and promptly made a run for the doors.
There was much leaping and shoving as the guards chased her. At one point, Ginny found the hem of her cloak being held by the panting queen, who told Ginny through gritted teeth that she was the only real princess in the land and had no choice but to marry Harry-Humperdinck or be thrown into the dungeons. With great presence of mind, Ginny kicked the queen in the face and then pushed past two guards blocking her exit, darting through the doors and screaming madly at the top of her lungs that they were all insane.
Thankfully, poor Ginny did manage to escape the castle parameters before she was forced to marry the Harry-Humperdinck prince, but the guards continued to chase her all the way into a forest. It took her a while, but she did end up losing the guards eventually; unfortunately, she also succeeded in losing herself.
"Bollocks," Ginny grumbled, staring about the maze of trees. "Where the hell am I?"
The forest made no reply (it was just a forest, after all), so Ginny was given no choice but to keep walking and hope that she would find some sign of civilisation (and food) soon. Luck seemed to be on her side that day; she had not walked for more than thirty minutes before she could hear the sound of trumpets and many people talking and laughing.
"There must be a festival going on somewhere," Ginny mused aloud, her eyes alighting with a greedy glow.
Festivals, you must know, mean celebrations, and celebrations mean food.
No longer feeling tired and grumpy, Ginny set off at a run towards the sound of the trumpets. She finally came to a very decadent looking town, which boasted an equally magnificent palace at its centre. To her delight, there was indeed a celebration going on. Upon questioning some of the locals, an old man told her that the emperor was having a procession to show off his new clothes.
"Oh, really?" Ginny replied, not particularly interested in the emperor's new clothes; indeed, she was paying more attention to the bread in her hand, which was then stuffed with surprising speed into her mouth.
"Look!" the old man exclaimed, pointing a knobbly finger in the direction of the palace. "Here comes the emperor now!"
Ginny turned to look and almost choked on her bread as she saw a very familiar boy with blond hair and pointy (yet handsome) features come walking confidently down the stone steps. The emperor was Draco Malfoy, but what stunned her most of all was that he was not wearing a strip of clothing on his body; indeed, he was completely naked.
She stared. And then she stared some more. And then her face went bright red, though whether this was from embarrassment or suppressed laughter remained to be seen, for the redhead did indeed start laughing.
"Gracious, Missy, what is so funny?" the old man asked, concerned.
"He's not wearing any clothes!" Ginny exclaimed, wiping tears of laughter away from her eyes.
The old man gave a small cough. "Well, you know, I was thinking the same thing, but I didn't want to say anything. You know what they say: only stupid people or people who can't do their jobs properly can't see the magical clothes."
Ginny shook her head, still giggling. "No way. He's just walking around naked."
The people around the redhead who had heard her comment seemed to come to the same conclusion, whereas before they had all joined in admiring the emperor's clothes, afraid lest they should appear stupid. Even Draco looked a bit uncertain the further he walked down the street. He saw Ginny doubled up with laughter, and a glint of recognition came into his eyes, and then he was striding towards her – pasty arse displayed to the world and all.
"You!" Draco growled, pointing his finger at her. "So this is your doing, is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny retorted, then promptly fell into another fit of giggles, unable to keep a straight face when confronted with the naked Slytherin.
He saw her eyes dart to the lower part of his anatomy and flushed a deep red, though he made no attempt to cover himself, clearly thinking that was beneath his dignity. Malfoys, it seemed, had very odd ideas about dignity.
"I'll have you know that my clothes are special," he told her haughtily, trying to save face. "You're just too stupid to see them."
"You keep telling yourself that, Malfoy," Ginny responded between giggles. "By the way, is it a bit cold here?"
She gave him a pointed look, and his blush deepened as he caught her meaning. Without another word, he snatched the robe off the man next to him and wrapped it around his own body. Then he grabbed Ginny by the elbow and dragged her away – right out of sight from all the people who had been staring at them curiously, and who even now were demanding where their 'emperor' was going.
"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, tugging at her arm. "Let me go!"
He released her at once and then turned to glare at her. "Alright, Weasley," Draco began, folding his arms, "what did you do?"
"What?"
"Don't give me that innocent rubbish. One minute I was doing my homework in the library, and the next thing I know I'm suddenly in this place and everyone is calling me 'Emperor'. You're the only person who has called me 'Malfoy', so I'm assuming you must be from my world too. Now I'll ask you again: what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Ginny retorted. "At least, not to you anyway. I was just trying to do some research for my essay when I got sucked into The Book of Fairy Tales. I don't know how you ended up here."
He frowned, seeming to realise she was speaking the truth. "I don't understand," he muttered, more to himself.
"Didn't that old man Gus come and visit you when you first came here?" Ginny asked curiously.
"Gus?" Draco repeated slowly. "No, but a woman named Augustus Auegentinia Arglecrumple – who liked to be called Gussie – did tell me that while I didn't have 'sparkling blue eyes', I'd have to do."
"Have to do for what?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just know that after falling through some pink clouds, I ended up in that palace back there. Everyone thought I was their emperor—"
"I bet you loved that," Ginny interposed dryly.
He looked down his nose at her. "Just because you have no respect for your superiors doesn't mean everyone else can't appreciate quality when they see it. If those people wanted me to be their emperor, I wasn't going to deny them. It's only natural they should want to worship me."
"I can't believe you said that with a straight face," Ginny said, eyeing him in a mixture of wonder and disgust. "Your ego must be really big."
"It's not being egotistical when it's the truth," Draco said simply.
"Whatever," she retorted, folding her arms.
They were silent for a moment, and then a grin suddenly came to her face. "So why were you walking around naked, anyway?"
Pink splotches settled on his cheeks. "Two men came to the palace and said they were going to make me some magical clothes."
Ginny giggled. "Those were some magical clothes, alright. They were so magical that no one could see them."
Draco gave an exasperated huff, turning away to hide his blush. "Yes, well, enough about that. We need to figure out what we're going to do from here."
"We?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, 'we'."
"I'm surprised; I didn't think a Malfoy would want anything to do with a Weasley."
"Then you must be stupider than I thought," he said shortly. "I may not like you, Weasley, but I'm not about to be stuck in this place by myself. It'll be much easier to make it out of here together."
"You're right," she agreed, much struck by this thought.
"Do you have your wand?" he asked hopefully.
She shook her head.
He sighed. "I don't either. It got lost when I first came here."
"Mine too."
"I don't suppose we'll ever find the way out of here then," Draco said gloomily, looking the epitome of despair.
Ginny frowned. "Gus told me that if I acted out the fairy tales and got a happily ever after, I would be able to get out of this place. Maybe it will work for the both of us."
"Just what are you suggesting?" Draco asked, staring at her warily.
"I'm suggesting we go find ourselves a fairy tale."
"Forgive me if I say that doesn't sound like the smartest idea you've had. In case you've forgotten, Weasley, some of these fairy tales are not exactly the nicest stories. I don't know about you, but I don't plan on being eaten by an old hag living in a ginger bread house, or having my eyes blinded by a witch with the power to smother a castle in thorns."
"Then we'll be cautious about which fairy tales we look for," Ginny retorted. "If you have a better idea for what we can do, by all means tell me."
Draco glowered at her, knowing he did not have any better ideas.
Ginny smiled smugly. "Then it's settled."
She stalked off into the distance without a further word. The blond heaved a weary sigh and reluctantly followed.
"How do I get myself into these things?" he grumbled.
"Come on, Malfoy!" Ginny called over her shoulder. "Keep up!"
Draco narrowed his eyes, but quickened his pace anyway.
Hack, hack. Cough, cough.
Oh, phooey. I've lost my cough drops again.
What are you staring at? Demanding little cretins. I tell you a story and you just expect me to keep going and going. Well, I shan't. I'm tired and cranky, and I have a darn cough coming on. You should be grateful I'm taking the time to even tell you this, considering the rubbish I've had to put up with.
Just look at this mess: I have a heroine who has no grace and has the manners of a troll, and a hero who – though he may look the part – was stupid enough to go and get himself stuck in the Emperor's New Clothes fairy tale and prance around showing his naked body to all of the Enchanted Lands. This was not what I had planned for. Ginny is supposed to be trapped in a tower by now and waiting for her hero to save her. And the hero – the hero is supposed to be good and dashing, not arrogant and vain, or – or worrying more about his clothes than his lady's wellbeing.
I'll admit, he looks much better than that messy-haired scar-head we had to put up with earlier, but why oh why must he have the heroic instincts of a – well, of a Flobberworm!
Blast it! Why do I always get stuck with people who refuse to conform to my fairy tale archetypes? I should have called in sick. I should have gone and hid in a cave! I should have done something – anything – except agree to be the narrator of Ginny Weasley's life!
That's it. No more nice narrator. From now on, they're playing this my way!
Hack, hack. Cough, cough.
Ahem, but first I need to find my cough drops.
Author notes: Humperdinck is a tribute to the prince in the Princess Bride. Gotta love that movie.
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