Olivia strode forward, not wasting any time in divesting the Jackal of his firearm, tying the assassin-ass-trologer in a knotted web of bridal train finery, soon leaving Ms. Maddie and the Jackal entwined as tightly as Siamese twins.
"You idiots...I have been waiting SO long for this moment, and now, now..." the angry woman clad in Versace spat, "...now I am going to do what I should have done a long time ago. But first...I'm going to blow big smoke rings in your face, Maddie, until you tell me where those papers are..."
"I have four personality planets in Leo, and Princess Maddie's sun sign is Leo and..."
"...that makes you a big pussy?" Miss O quipped, kicking at the Jackal for good measure. "You are such an ass...such a veritable goofus delecti - and you - a princess, my assets!"
"I HATE you!" Maddie wailed. "Prince Vlaaaaaaaaaaad!!! Help, help..."
"Gods, stop quacking like a duck and you, stop crying like a baby, I didn't kick you that hard...want me to slap you? Where are the papers? Tell me now..."
"O-livia Primrose," a familiar tone reprimanded. "What do you think you are doing? I did not bring you up to smoke cigarettes in church! And why is your soon-to-be royal friend all tied up - is that Don Juan Carlos with our beautiful princess? Heavens, it is...Robert! Help me untie these poor darlings!"
"Bugger off, Mom," Olivia snarled. "This is official company biz...Ms. Maddie has some papers that need to be returned, and as for the wedding..."
"You don't mean these papers, do you, dear? The ones Maddie left at Château Gâteau ages ago, right after Carlos saved you from being kidnapped by those horrible Scorpio creatures? I did take a peek, naturally, but decided they were nothing I could use in my next novel, Vespers of Venus....and when we were invited to the wedding, well, I just thought..."
"Mummy, those papers belong to a friend of mine...I'm so glad you remembered them. Love the suit - Chanel?"
"Why, yes," Posh preened. "Bought it yesterday over at the Rue Cambon...is the wedding still on? Oh, Duke's here..."
The Prof. and Domenico arrived in time to witness the passing of parchment, sealed with a hug between Olivia and her swain. "Nice boots," Duke laughed before kissing his own bride-to-be. "Wanna go to dinner somewhere fancy? We are in Paris - how about Maxim's?"
"How about the Tour d'Argent? I feel like a...pressed duck," Olivia laughed, tossing her cigarette at the Jackal. "Individually numbered and pressed, of course."
