The Cookie Fairy (
alcesverdes) wrote2009-08-06 06:27 am
[The Emperor's New Groove] Back To Business
Title: Back To Business
Fandom: The Emperor's New Groove
Characters/Pairings: Kitten!Yzma, Pacha. Mentions of Kronk and Kuzco.
Rating: PG
Length: ~1350 words.
Summary: Yzma tries to strike back, but Pacha has something to say in the matter.
Spoilers: The movie's ending.
Author's Note: Written for the "Truth serum" prompt from the cliche_bingo challenge.
This fic doesn't take into account whatever sequel and spin-off show this movie may have.
This is the story of a cat who wanted to rule an empire. She had done it before, though, for a few days while everyone tought the emperor was dead and while she was still human. Because, you see, she hadn't been born as a cat, but turned into one when due the treachery of the aforementioned emperor when he, as a llama, returned to claim is throne. It had been a little complicated, yes, but the point was that she wanted her glory days back and her dreams fulfilled, even though she didn't exactly know how she was going to do it.
She knew her first plan had been a good one, with a solid basis, a wonder of simplicity. It should've worked just fine. But it hadn't, and it had backfired so spectacularly Yzma had now to lick her paw so she could straighten up her whiskers.
Making an effort to recall every little detail, Yzma went through every step of the affair to find out why and when it had failed like she did.
It was a humiliating experience even if she didn't have to share it with anyone else.
Nevertheless, at the end she could pinpoint exactly where her plan had gone awry: when she thought Kronk would make a good asset beyond looking pretty. It had been Kronk who had ruined everything, not her labeling system as he'd said; anyone with a working head on their shoulders could've work their way through that system. Thus, Kronk was defective from the very beginning, and Yzma had learned the hard way she shouldn't hire henchmen following the only advise of her hormones. Or at least not if said henchmen didn't pass an I.Q. test.
With that out of the way, she felt ready to move forward.
First, she needed a henchman.
Two, she couldn't hire a henchman. She didn't have enough money to pay for even one day of work and, let's face it: what kind of self-respecting henchman would follow the orders of a kitten?
No, she'd have to go back to be a beautiful, wealthy woman before considering getting one of those again.
Therefore, she had to jump ahead to step three: turning back into a human. To do this, she only had to sneak into the palace, then to her secret laboratory and then to the back where there had to be, in one of the boxes at the bottom, at least one more vial with human extract. It was old and surely smelled bad and it wouldn't work for long but it would buy her time enough to reach the books with the instructions and handle the proper instruments to prepare something more permanent.
From there, she could go back to step one and get her henchman with promises of gold and glory. And maybe love too if she was in a good mood at the end of the day.
There, a whole new, magnificent plan in less than a minute. She was a genius.
So, to start with step three, she put herself into a box which she then mailed to the palace.
She just hoped no one would think she was a flea.
Some time later, as an old cook had nursed her back to health --who would've thought it'd be a problem traveling in a box without any breathing holes?-- and she finished lapping her milk after taking a nap in front of a nice fire, Yzma was making her way to her secret laboratory.
And she did pull the right lever on the first try too, thankfully.
Once she was down there, she found herself in shock. Everything on the lab was out of place. It had been like if a tornado had gone through her stuff --a tornado that put things on clearly marked boxes, changing all her system.
Now how was she supposed to find her old vials? How? It all was lost now! Lost!
Or so she thought until she found a catalogue on a table. With its help, she soon learned where her little, old vial was.
Immediately, she ran to get it.
Soon, there it was, on her paw: the last of human extract. As she held it, she could feel its power. It was old, indeed. Not bright pink, it was nearly white, but it would work as she thought it would.
It had to.
She drank it, feeling the bittersweet liquid going down her throat.
And then she heard a voice going, "Aha!" but it was too late. For the voice, that is.
Yzma turned around and met that fat peasant that had helped Kuzco before. She couldn't recall his name, but it didn't matter. It wouldn't matter anymore. He soon would be forgotten, for when she seized the power once more, she would send him far, far away, and when he came back, she would send him away again, and then again, and again and again.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
That's not of your business, she planned to say.
"Because soon it won't matter if I don't remember your name, for when I seize the power once, I will send you far, far away, and when you come back, I will send you away again, and then again, and again and again."
Yzma covered her mouth.
What in the world had been that?
More than that, she'd said it with her high-pitched kitten voice. And she had covered her mouth with tiny, clawed, furry, gray paws. She hadn't changed.
Did the old potions took longer to work their effect? She didn't remember that chapter well at all, but she hoped that was the case.
"You didn't come back to try to kill Kuzco, did you?" the peasant asked.
Of course not, I only want to regain my former beauty.
"Of course I did."
Paws on mouth again.
The peasant sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "I knew it. Are you alone in this?"
No. I have a thousand lackeys who will come through that door in any second and put you in your place, you stupid peasant.
"Yes, you stupid peasant."
"My name is Pacha," he offered.
I don't care.
"I don't care."
Hey, one came through as she'd thought it. It sounded promising.
"Either way," the peasant Pacha carried on, "come here. I have this little carrier to put you on while we figure out what to do with you."
You can't force me, you are not that strong and I have claws and sharp teeth!
"You could defeat me without any effort at all in a battle. I may have claws and sharp teeth but you're several times stronger and you have calluses on your hands."
Yzma blinked several times after listening to herself saying that. Pacha, taking advantage of that, picked her up and put her on the carrier. "I've been keeping this here since we heard there was a gray kitten in the castle, you know?" he said.
"No, I didn't know," said the cat behind bars. "And what is going on?"
"Well, I guess you can say I switched that old human extract with a truth serum you had lying around," he explained. "I apologize for the trick, but I think it was a good idea after all."
"Yes, it was a clever idea," Yzma accepted, sulking.
"The thing is, I'm glad you were this predictable."
"Certainly I am predictable, I follow many villain cliches!" She groaned. "Stop that!"
"Fine, I'll stop. I'm sorry."
"No, you're not."
The peasant laughed.
She growled. "How long until the effects wear off?"
"I don't know. You were the one who prepared it, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did it. But it was so many decades ago I barely remember which recipe I used."
The cry that came after that was heard all over the palace, from the secret laboratory to the top levels. The only comfort Yzma could ever found when she eventually looked back at the whole thing, was that it most likely happened in cue to disrupt Kuzco's beauty nap.
Fandom: The Emperor's New Groove
Characters/Pairings: Kitten!Yzma, Pacha. Mentions of Kronk and Kuzco.
Rating: PG
Length: ~1350 words.
Summary: Yzma tries to strike back, but Pacha has something to say in the matter.
Spoilers: The movie's ending.
Author's Note: Written for the "Truth serum" prompt from the cliche_bingo challenge.
This fic doesn't take into account whatever sequel and spin-off show this movie may have.
This is the story of a cat who wanted to rule an empire. She had done it before, though, for a few days while everyone tought the emperor was dead and while she was still human. Because, you see, she hadn't been born as a cat, but turned into one when due the treachery of the aforementioned emperor when he, as a llama, returned to claim is throne. It had been a little complicated, yes, but the point was that she wanted her glory days back and her dreams fulfilled, even though she didn't exactly know how she was going to do it.
She knew her first plan had been a good one, with a solid basis, a wonder of simplicity. It should've worked just fine. But it hadn't, and it had backfired so spectacularly Yzma had now to lick her paw so she could straighten up her whiskers.
Making an effort to recall every little detail, Yzma went through every step of the affair to find out why and when it had failed like she did.
It was a humiliating experience even if she didn't have to share it with anyone else.
Nevertheless, at the end she could pinpoint exactly where her plan had gone awry: when she thought Kronk would make a good asset beyond looking pretty. It had been Kronk who had ruined everything, not her labeling system as he'd said; anyone with a working head on their shoulders could've work their way through that system. Thus, Kronk was defective from the very beginning, and Yzma had learned the hard way she shouldn't hire henchmen following the only advise of her hormones. Or at least not if said henchmen didn't pass an I.Q. test.
With that out of the way, she felt ready to move forward.
First, she needed a henchman.
Two, she couldn't hire a henchman. She didn't have enough money to pay for even one day of work and, let's face it: what kind of self-respecting henchman would follow the orders of a kitten?
No, she'd have to go back to be a beautiful, wealthy woman before considering getting one of those again.
Therefore, she had to jump ahead to step three: turning back into a human. To do this, she only had to sneak into the palace, then to her secret laboratory and then to the back where there had to be, in one of the boxes at the bottom, at least one more vial with human extract. It was old and surely smelled bad and it wouldn't work for long but it would buy her time enough to reach the books with the instructions and handle the proper instruments to prepare something more permanent.
From there, she could go back to step one and get her henchman with promises of gold and glory. And maybe love too if she was in a good mood at the end of the day.
There, a whole new, magnificent plan in less than a minute. She was a genius.
So, to start with step three, she put herself into a box which she then mailed to the palace.
She just hoped no one would think she was a flea.
Some time later, as an old cook had nursed her back to health --who would've thought it'd be a problem traveling in a box without any breathing holes?-- and she finished lapping her milk after taking a nap in front of a nice fire, Yzma was making her way to her secret laboratory.
And she did pull the right lever on the first try too, thankfully.
Once she was down there, she found herself in shock. Everything on the lab was out of place. It had been like if a tornado had gone through her stuff --a tornado that put things on clearly marked boxes, changing all her system.
Now how was she supposed to find her old vials? How? It all was lost now! Lost!
Or so she thought until she found a catalogue on a table. With its help, she soon learned where her little, old vial was.
Immediately, she ran to get it.
Soon, there it was, on her paw: the last of human extract. As she held it, she could feel its power. It was old, indeed. Not bright pink, it was nearly white, but it would work as she thought it would.
It had to.
She drank it, feeling the bittersweet liquid going down her throat.
And then she heard a voice going, "Aha!" but it was too late. For the voice, that is.
Yzma turned around and met that fat peasant that had helped Kuzco before. She couldn't recall his name, but it didn't matter. It wouldn't matter anymore. He soon would be forgotten, for when she seized the power once more, she would send him far, far away, and when he came back, she would send him away again, and then again, and again and again.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
That's not of your business, she planned to say.
"Because soon it won't matter if I don't remember your name, for when I seize the power once, I will send you far, far away, and when you come back, I will send you away again, and then again, and again and again."
Yzma covered her mouth.
What in the world had been that?
More than that, she'd said it with her high-pitched kitten voice. And she had covered her mouth with tiny, clawed, furry, gray paws. She hadn't changed.
Did the old potions took longer to work their effect? She didn't remember that chapter well at all, but she hoped that was the case.
"You didn't come back to try to kill Kuzco, did you?" the peasant asked.
Of course not, I only want to regain my former beauty.
"Of course I did."
Paws on mouth again.
The peasant sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "I knew it. Are you alone in this?"
No. I have a thousand lackeys who will come through that door in any second and put you in your place, you stupid peasant.
"Yes, you stupid peasant."
"My name is Pacha," he offered.
I don't care.
"I don't care."
Hey, one came through as she'd thought it. It sounded promising.
"Either way," the peasant Pacha carried on, "come here. I have this little carrier to put you on while we figure out what to do with you."
You can't force me, you are not that strong and I have claws and sharp teeth!
"You could defeat me without any effort at all in a battle. I may have claws and sharp teeth but you're several times stronger and you have calluses on your hands."
Yzma blinked several times after listening to herself saying that. Pacha, taking advantage of that, picked her up and put her on the carrier. "I've been keeping this here since we heard there was a gray kitten in the castle, you know?" he said.
"No, I didn't know," said the cat behind bars. "And what is going on?"
"Well, I guess you can say I switched that old human extract with a truth serum you had lying around," he explained. "I apologize for the trick, but I think it was a good idea after all."
"Yes, it was a clever idea," Yzma accepted, sulking.
"The thing is, I'm glad you were this predictable."
"Certainly I am predictable, I follow many villain cliches!" She groaned. "Stop that!"
"Fine, I'll stop. I'm sorry."
"No, you're not."
The peasant laughed.
She growled. "How long until the effects wear off?"
"I don't know. You were the one who prepared it, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did it. But it was so many decades ago I barely remember which recipe I used."
The cry that came after that was heard all over the palace, from the secret laboratory to the top levels. The only comfort Yzma could ever found when she eventually looked back at the whole thing, was that it most likely happened in cue to disrupt Kuzco's beauty nap.

no subject
Me morĂ x'DDDDD
Awesomeness XDDD Y creo que expresaste muy bien el tl;dr de Yzma XDD
no subject
XDDDDDDDD