TITLE: The Madness
AUTHOR: Augustus
EMAIL: gaius_octavius_@h...
WEBBIE: http://rimmer.alphalink.com.au
FANDOM: Father Ted
PAIRING: Ted/Dougal
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: First time, fluff, hopefully a little humour thrown in...
STATUS: New, complete
ARCHIVAL: List archives are okay. Everyone else, just ask: you'll give
me a happy, and I'll say yes ^_^
WARNINGS: Uh, it *is* about two priests. Not particularly *normal*
priests, but priests nonetheless...
SUMMARY: Father Damo's gone mad.
DISCLAIMER: The television program `Father Ted' and all of its
characters are owned by Arthur Mathews and Graham Linehan. I just
worship the ground they walk on... both for `Father Ted' and for Ted &
Ralph - they do a good trade in sexually dubious Irish fellows named
Ted... ^_^ No money made, no naughtiness intended.
NOTES: I've been searching for Father Ted slash online since I first
started watching the show. I've never found any. After a while, I
attempted writing some myself... soon to come to the conclusion that
it
was impossible. Two years later, this decided to write itself. Whether
or not it works is your call.
If you read it in the right accents and with the show's timing, it'll
sound a helluva lot better.
FEEDBACK: Go ahead, make my day *g*
FOR: Mez, who started this damn obsession *hug*



 

The Madness

 

by Augustus

 



(Int. Parochial House. Ted is sitting at the dining table, reading the
latest addition of `Halo' - the front headline is "Pope Admits to
Liking
Cheese". The rest of the table is covered in the sort of mess you
would
associate with a five year old who has just discovered the delights of
model aeroplane making. It is Dougal's latest hobby. He is not
present,
but his latest effort - a plane with three wings - is. Father Jack is
in
his usual chair, fast asleep. Occasionally he mutters obscenities in
between the snores.
The relative calm is soon broken by the loud sound of the front door
being slammed shut, followed by the appearance of Dougal, who bursts
into the room in a state of considerable agitation.)
DOUGAL: Ted!
(He drops down onto the couch, leaning over the back so that he can
see
Ted.)
DOUGAL: Ted!
(Ted folds his magazine and places it on the table in front of him.)
TED: (bemused) Yes, Dougal? Did you have a good time with Father
Lennon?
DOUGAL: You'd never believe it, Ted. He's gone completely mad.
(Ted moves over to join Dougal on the couch, pushing aside a cushion
emblazoned with the face of Jesus so that he can sit as close as
possible to the younger priest.)
TED:  Now, you should be careful about saying things like that,
Dougal.
Remember what happened when you said that old Mr. O'Loughlin had gone
mad?
DOUGAL: (sheepishly) ...Ah. Yes.
TED: It took Mrs. O'Loughlin *weeks* to get the mud from the
psychiatrists' boots out of the carpet.
DOUGAL: She wasn't very happy, no...
TED: And remember the time you told Doug Wilson his cat was possessed?
DOUGAL: (guilty silence)
TED: We had bishops hanging around Craggy Island for *five days*! All
because it made a strange noise when you stepped on its tail.
DOUGAL: (stubbornly) It had a crazed look in its eye, Ted.
TED: That may be so, but I highly doubt it was in league with Satan. I
think the antichrist has better things to do with his time than eating
fish and coughing up furballs.
(Dougal still doesn't look convinced.)
TED: Now, are you *sure* that Father Lennon is mad?
DOUGAL: (regaining enthusiasm now that they are back on his original
topic of conversation) I've never been surer of anything in my life.
TED: (playing along, although he doesn't believe a word of it) And why
do you say that?
DOUGAL: (seriously) He stuck his tongue in my mouth.
TED: (extremely flustered) Are you *sure* about that? You weren't just
imagining it?
DOUGAL: Oh, it was in there alright, Ted. It was horrible. Who would
want to do a thing like that?
(Ted coughs guiltily.)
TED: I believe it's called a French Kiss.
DOUGAL: Ah. That would explain it, then.
(There is a long pause. Then, suddenly:)
DOUGAL: Ted! Damo's not French!
TED: (calmly) Actually, all types of people kiss each other like that,
Dougal. It's really very common.
(Dougal looks very surprised by this revelation.)
DOUGAL: You haven't done it, have you?
TED: (looking rather proud of himself) As a matter of fact, Dougal, I
*have*.
DOUGAL: (shaking his head) The whole world's gone mad.
TED: (looking uncomfortable now) Did Father Lennon say *why* he was
kissing you?
DOUGAL: ...No.
TED: No reason at all?
(Dougal looks blank.)
TED: Well, that doesn't surprise me.
(He tries to cover his jealously with an overly brisk manner.)
TED: I don't think you should see him any more, Dougal. He's not very
nice.
DOUGAL: (easily) Okay, Ted. If you really think so.
(There is a long pause... not a particularly comfortable one. Ted
picks
at the front of his trousers, while Dougal stares at the clutter on
top
of the mantelpiece.)
TED: (finally) When you say you didn't *like* it, Dougal, is that
because Father Lennon is a man?
DOUGAL: (sniggering) Damo's not a man, Ted.
TED: Yes he *is*, Dougal. He might be all `cool' and `trendy', but
he's
still a man.
(Dougal sniggers some more.)
TED: Well?
DOUGAL: ...What was the question, again?
TED: Did you not like the kiss because Father Lennon is a man?
(Dougal thinks very hard about this. Finally:)
DOUGAL: ...No.
TED: (eagerly) So you might not mind it if *another* man were to kiss
you, then? Say... an older man. (He begins to preen somewhat.) A
distinguished type... Perhaps someone you've known for quite a
while...
DOUGAL: Well, that depends, Ted.
TED: Yes...?
DOUGAL: Well, would this other person be you, by any chance?
TED: (extremely flustered now) Well... I... Uh... I mean...
DOUGAL: (oblivious to Ted's discomfort) Because I might not mind that.
(Ted, however, is too flustered to hear Dougal's reply.)
TED: You're right. I shouldn't have said anything. Of course you would
mind. I must have been cr-...
(It finally sinks in.)
TED: You wouldn't?
DOUGAL: Well, I can't really say until I try. But I think that if I
had
to have someone's tongue in my mouth, Ted, I'd much prefer it to be
yours.
(Ted is shocked into silence. He opens and closes his mouth a few
times,
but nothing comes out.)
DOUGAL: Are we going to do it now, or will we wait `til after tea?
TED: (coughing nervously) Well... I suppose there's no time like the
present.
(He leans in to give Dougal a quick peck on the lips.)
TED: Well? Was that okay?
DOUGAL: What about your tongue, Ted? Was that meant to be involved?
TED: Oh... Yes... That...
(Rather tentatively, he grabs Dougal and gives him a proper kiss this
time. Dougal obviously *doesn't* mind, going by his rather
enthusiastic
response. Just as Ted's hands start to travel southwards, however,
Father Jack awakens.)
JACK: Drink!
(The two younger priests jump apart. Dougal looks thoroughly
dishevelled. Ted just looks rather sheepish - in an "I just got what
I'
ve been wanting for years" sort of way.)
JACK: Drink!
TED: Uh... How long have you been awake, Father Jack?
(Jack just stares at him.)
TED: (trying again) Did you see anything? Something... unusual...
perhaps?
(Jack makes `kissie' faces at them.)
TED: (sinking back against the couch) Oh feck.
JACK: *Drink*!
TED: You'd better give him his drink, Dougal. The bottle's on the
table.
(Unaware of Ted's angst, Dougal wanders over to the table, picks up a
bottle and hands it to Jack before returning to the couch. Jack
happily
downs the contents of the bottle in one long swallow.)
TED: We'll be in a lot of trouble if Bishop Brennan finds out about
this, Dougal. I doubt he'd look kindly on this sort of thing. Priests
aren't meant to fall in love with each other.
DOUGAL: ...What's all this about love, Ted?
TED: Uh... Did I say love?
DOUGAL: You did, Ted.
TED: Oh... You see... What I meant was...
(He is suddenly inspired.)
TED: Aha! I was referring to Our Lord's great commandment that we
should
love our neighbours.
DOUGAL: But you hate that show, Ted. What is it you call it?
TED: (tiredly) Not *that* sort of neighbours.
DOUGAL: "That Australian Shite". That's what you call it.
TED: (sighing) Yes, Dougal.
DOUGAL: (enthusiastically) Can we do that thing again, Ted?
TED: What? The kissing?
DOUGAL I liked it a lot more when you did it.
TED: (chuffed) Really?
DOUGAL: (back to sniggering again) ...Yes.
TED: Well, I don't see why n-...
(He trails off, slowly turning to look at Father Jack.)
TED: Ah. We probably shouldn't with Father Jack in the room.
DOUGAL: (grumpily) Oh, why not? He's not going to tell anyone. And
besides, he's sleeping.
(Sure enough, Jack is dead to the world. Actually... it looks almost
as
though he's *literally* dead to the world.)
TED: You know, Dougal, he's not looking very well.
(He moves over to take a closer look and tsk tsks for a few moments
before noticing the empty bottle in Jack's lap. Picking it up, he
turns
back to face Dougal.)
TED: Is this the bottle you gave him?
DOUGAL: That's right, Ted. You said to give him the one on the table.
TED: (brandishing the bottle) Not *this* one, Dougal. I meant the
bottle
of scotch. *This* one is - was - a bottle of glue. From your
aeroplane.
DOUGAL: Well, who would want to drink that?
TED: (tossing the bottle aside) Well, Father Jack, obviously.
DOUGAL: Ah. Right. (Pause.) Do you think he'll be asleep for a while?
TED: I think he'll be asleep for a *long* while.
DOUGAL: Oh good.
(He smiles. Ted takes a while, but eventually realises what Dougal is
talking about. He takes a brief moment to grin back at him, before
grabbing Dougal and thoroughly ravishing him.
The pashing priests are soon interrupted, however, by a loud,
throat-clearing noise. They jump apart, Ted looking guilty, Dougal
looking totally oblivious. Mrs. Doyle is standing behind them.)
TED: Ah... Mrs. Doyle. We were just...
MRS DOYLE: (ignoring him) Would you like a cup of tea, Fathers?
(She proffers an overloaded tray.)
TED: We're actually rather busy at the moment.
MRS DOYLE: Surely you can spare time for a lovely cup of tea.
TED: Maybe later.
MRS DOYLE: What about a biscuit?
TED: I-...
MRS DOYLE: (cutting him off) There are digestives, or HobNobs, or
home-made shortbread... or would you prefer a sandwich?
TED: Really, Mrs. Doyle, we're quite alright for now.
MRS DOYLE: Are you sure you won't have a sandwich? You would say if
you
wanted me to make one, wouldn't you?
TED: I would. But I'm really not hungry at the moment.
MRS DOYLE: (Pause.) I'll just go make some anyway. Just in case.
(She bustles out of the room, only after leaving the tea on a corner
table.)
DOUGAL: Do you think she noticed, Ted?
TED: It's hard to say, Dougal. You'd be surprised at what women notice
when they put their mind to it.
DOUGAL: Will she tell Len, d'you think?
TED: Now, Dougal, we're not meant to call him that. Remember what
happened last time?
DOUGAL: ...No.
TED: The bunnies? Do you remember all the bunnies?
DOUGAL: ...
TED: Never mind. No, I don't think Mrs. Doyle will tell Bishop
Brennan.
I don't think she even has his phone number.
DOUGAL: Wouldn't it be in the directory?
TED: No, he had to get a silent number after that business with the
prank calls.
DOUGAL: That's right. Did he ever find out who that was?
TED: No, I don't think so. It's a pity he changed his number. Father
Jack did so love the conversation.
DOUGAL: Remember that time he made Len cry?
(Ted smiles, reminiscing.)
TED: That's right.
(They fall into a comfortable silence, Ted playing idly with a loose
thread on Dougal's vest. Finally:)
DOUGAL: Are we going to go to Hell now, Ted?
TED: (flustered) What do you mean?
DOUGAL: Well, we're not meant to do that thing with each other, are
we?
TED: Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, yes, officially it is a sin.
But what does the Pope know anyway? I think there are too many
murderers
and robbers and people who kick puppies and laugh about it in the
world
for God to worry about us.
DOUGAL: That's good, Ted. I don't want to go to Hell. All that
singing,
and playing harps... And I just don't trust clouds.
TED: Uh... That's *Heaven*, Dougal.
DOUGAL: Really?
TED: Really.
DOUGAL: Well, you learn something new every day, don't you?
(There is another long silence.)
DOUGAL: Ted, if we're not going to go to Hell for it... can we do that
again?
TED: I think we should. As often as possible. And then we could do
some
other things...
DOUGAL: What sort of other things?
TED: Well... I suppose we could push those two beds together.
(Dougal frowns and shakes his head.)
DOUGAL: Oooh... Oooh... I'm not too sure about that, Ted.
TED: (disappointed) Oh. Well...
DOUGAL: (cutting in) I *do* like my duvet cover an awful lot. I'm not
sure I'm ready to give that up just yet.
TED: (brightening up) You wouldn't have to.
DOUGAL: No? Well, I'm all for it, then. When do we start?
(Ted can't quite believe his luck.)
TED: ...How about now?
DOUGAL: Sure. (Pause.) What were we going to do, again?
(Ted shakes his head in mild exasperation, but doesn't bother
answering.
Instead he just pulls Dougal in for another, very thorough, kissing.)
DOUGAL: (muffled, around Ted's kiss) Oh! That!
(They kiss for a good few minutes without pause. Possibly they would
have continued in such a manner until sundown if it were not for the
return of Mrs. Doyle, who staggers into the room, carrying a huge
tray,
covered with enough sandwiches to feed and entire congregation.)
MRS DOYLE: Here you go, Fathers. I wasn't sure which filling you might
like, so I've done them all.
(Ted and Dougal jump apart.)
MRS DOYLE: (oblivious) Of course, when I say I've made up *all* the
filling possibilities, I *am* exaggerating a little.
(Ted and Dougal exchange a glance.)
MRS DOYLE: There's no "peanut butter and pickle"... and no "marmalade
and asparagus"... but I think I've covered everything else.
TED: Thank you, Mrs. Doyle.
(He gets an idea.)
TED: How would you like to take the rest of the afternoon off? I'm
sure
Dougal and I can `hold down the fort'.
MRS DOYLE: What about Father Hackett?
TED: (glancing over at Jack's chair) I don't think he'll be any
trouble.
He's just drunk an entire bottle of Dougal's aeroplane glue. Last time
he did that, he slept for three days.
MRS DOYLE: Ah, so. Well, if you're sure you'll be able to manage. (She
pats her hair.) I wouldn't mind a quick haircut...
TED: We'll be fine. Take as *long* as you want.
MRS DOYLE: Now, do you want me to make you a pot of tea before I go?
TED: No thanks, Mrs. Doyle.
MRS DOYLE: Are you sure?
TED: Yes, I'm very sure. You go have a good time.
MRS DOYLE: Why, *thank you*, Father.
(She exits, and Ted and Dougal are finally left alone again - except,
of
course, for the unconscious Father Jack.)
TED: That should give us a couple of hours.
DOUGAL: What are we going to do, Ted?
TED: Well... I have a *few* ideas...
DOUGAL: What are they?
TED: Why don't I just show you?
DOUGAL: Sure. As long as we're finished by six.
TED: (frowning) Why's that?
DOUGAL: I don't want to miss `Home and Away'. I think Alf's pregnant
or
something.
TED: (shaking his head) Come on, let's go upstairs.
(He takes Dougal's hand, and leads him from the room. The sound of
footsteps on the staircase can be heard, followed by the creak and
click
of a door being pulled to. All remains still for a few minutes. Then:)
JACK: (waking from his stupor and looking around) Drink!
(Drifting down from the top of the stairs can be heard a very
unpriestlike selecti