Disclaimer: This is a parody of "Cinderella." The first commercial came from a weird dream that I had, and the second commercial from Virgil's 3rd Eclogue, which belongs to Virgil (funny how that works). Studly Do-Right and the Italian Stallion, as well as Diefenbaker, Turnbull, Welsh, Kowalski, Huey, Louie, and anyone or anything else from "Due South" are owned by Alliance. "Electric Barbarella" is owned by Duran Duran. The model for these fairy tales is "Fractured Fairy Tales" from the "Rocky and Bullwinkle Show" which is owned by Buena Vista. I am not making any money off of this. I'm just doing it to amuse myself and hopefully others as well.

Oh, and there is also a Stanley R. Kowalski alert, in order to ensure the safety of those who break out in hives at the very mention of him. He plays a small part, however this is most definantly a Real Ray and his Benny story.

Vecchio: 1994?

Narrator: In a kingdom far, far away…

Vecchio: Oh please! Illinois and Florida aren’t that far apart.

Narrator: Would you shut up, please?

Vecchio: All right, all right, jeeze!

Narrator: Lived a middle-aged man named Raymond Vecchio.

Vecchio: Middle age? Middle age! I’m in the prime of life, pal.

Narrator: He worked with his stepfather, Lt. Welsh, and his two stepbrothers, Huey and Louie.

Gardino: It’s Louis, ma’am.

Vecchio: They’re brothers? Was that so sort of weird genetic experiment, or did Welsh just tear them from his thigh?

Narrator: Ray’s stepbrothers were always being mean to him.

Gardino: Hey, how’s your arrest-rate coming along?

Huey: Well, at least it’s not getting any worse.

Gardino: Yeah, it’s hard to do less than nothing.

Narrator: And they would always make it look as though any fight was Ray’s fault.

Vecchio: Hey, that’s not fair!

Gardino: Maybe you should think twice before mouthing off to the narrator again, Vecchio.

Vecchio: Maybe you should choke on a duck bone, Louie.

Welsh: Knock it off, Vecchio, or I’ll put you back guarding the post office.

Vecchio: Deficiente! [Translation: Idiot!]

Narrator: Meanwhile, in this kingdom, there was a Canadian Consulate. The Canadians there were thrilled that their golden boy, Constable Benton Fraser, was returning to Chicago.

Fraser: I’m afraid that I’m not well liked back in Canada.

Dief: Aurh! Woof! He’s the master of understatement, but you already knew that, didn’t you?

Narrator: The Consulate decided to have a ball to celebrate Maple Syrup Day…

Fraser: Um…

Narrator: Just kidding. The Consulate decided to have a ball to celebrate Fraser’s return. They would invite everyone in the law enforcement community. Fraser was slightly uneasy about this.

Fraser: I sense that there are some ulterior motives associated with this celebration. Inspector Thatcher was just asking me what flavor oil I prefer.

Narrator: Just then, Fraser’s father, Robert Fraser, appeared.

Fraser Senior: Hello Son.

Fraser: Hello Dad. How are you?

Fraser Senior: I’m dead son. Really, after the first season I thought you would have caught on by now.

Fraser: Maybe, instead of asking how you are, I should instead ask why you are here.

Fraser Senior: That seems like the logical alternative, son.

*There is a pause. *

Fraser: Well?

Fraser Senior: Well what?

Fraser: *Sighs. * Why are you here, dad?

Fraser Senior: Oh, I am here to help you for the ball.

Fraser: One would think that I have the diplomatic skills necessary for a ball.

Fraser Senior: No, no, no, son, not that. I am here to assist you in selecting your mate.

Fraser: Mate?

Fraser Senior: Yes, son. Tonight’s ball is designed to seduce you into marriage.

Fraser: Marriage?

Fraser Senior: What’s the matter, son? Do you not wish to be married?

Fraser: Well, of course I do, dad. It’s just that I want someone who likes me as a person, not as a ‘hunky heart throb’. Someone with that certain special something…

*An orchestra starts up in the background but it quickly shushed by Robert Fraser. *

Fraser Senior: No, son! Please don’t start singing.

Fraser: Sorry, dad.

Fraser Senior: I suggest that you stay away from the Inspector. As we speak, she is equipping the Queen’s bedroom with chains, ropes, bottles of oil, and bars on the windows so you can’t escape.

Fraser: Oh dear.

Narrator: Meanwhile, back at Precinct 27, Welsh had gathered his detectives together to make an announcement.

Welsh: There’s going to be some kind of fancy dress party over at the Canadian Consulate tonight. Huey and Louie, I want you two to go.

Vecchio: What about me, sir?

Welsh: Oh, well, you have to remove and dust all the light bulbs, clean the chalk erasers - outside this time - empty all the trash cans, and finish writing that report of yours. Then, if you are done with all of that, you may join us at the ball.

Vecchio: But by the time I get done, the party will be over.

Narrator: Welsh ignored Vecchio.

Welsh: Apparently their favorite officer has returned, some guy called Benton Fraser.

Gardino: Oh, I heard about him. He once tracked a man through the wilds of the Yukon all the way to Tutuyucka-whatever.

Welsh: As always Louie, you’ve missed the point entirely. The finest officers in Chicago will be there, all bustling for the opportunity to liaise with Canada’s finest. Now, I want one of my detectives to liaise with him. We need the prestige.

Huey: And that handsome face to drool at.

Gardino: You coming too, boss?

Welsh: None of your damn busin-, oh, uh, yeah, I wouldn’t miss it.

Narrator: Later that evening, after everyone had left, Vecchio was outside beating erasers together.

Vecchio: This shit sucks! I deserve some damn respect.

Narrator: With the erasers mostly clean, he walked back into the office. Sitting with legs propped up on the desk, wearing ratty jeans and equally dirty Bull’s T-shirt, was a blond guy with spiky hair.

Kowalski: ‘Lo dere.

Vecchio: Who are you? What are you doing at my desk?

Kowalski: I’m Stanley, you’re fairy godfather.

Vecchio: Yeah, well, I’ve got a news flash for you. There’s no such thing as a blond Italian.

Kowalski: I’m not that kind of godfather.

Vecchio: Oh, that’s right. You just said you were a fairy.

Kowalski: Oh, yeah, well…

Narrator: Stanley stood up while he thought of a good retort.

Kowalski: Takes one to know one.

*There is a pause. *

Vecchio: Hey, Stanley?

Kowalski: Yeah?

Vecchio: You’re talking to the coat-stand. I’m over here.

Kowalski: Oh, uh, yeah. I knew dat.

Narrator: Stanley turned more to Vecchio.

Kowalski: Look, do you want me to help you or not?

Vecchio: What could you possibly help me with?

Kowalski: Well, you want to go to the ball? Because I can get you there if you wanna.

Vecchio: I would, yes, if you’re asking me, not the wall.

Kowalski: *Sighs. *

Narrator: Stanley pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on. They were big, black, rectangular frames with ½ thick lenses that make his eyes look real big. Vecchio tried to stifle hysterical laughter.

Kowalski: What is it?

Vecchio (through laughter): Nothing.

Narrator: Stanley eyed Vecchio suspiciously.

Kowalski: Well, then. Pitter-patter, time to find you a car.

Vecchio: I already have a car.

Kowalski: You can’t go to this ball in a Riv.

Vecchio: What’s wrong with my Riv?

Kowalski: You need something more stylish, something like...

Vecchio (sarcastically): Like a GTO?

Kowalski (angry): No, like a limousine.

Vecchio (surprised): A limo, you can get one?

Kowalski: Yeah, I can.

Narrator: Stanley pulled out a tire gauge, and pointed at it with his finger.

Kowalski: With a wave of my magic wand, I can get you anything.

Narrator: Stanley started to wave his magical tire gauge, making lightsaber-swishing sounds, when Vecchio grabbed his hand.

Vecchio: Maybe we should create the limo outside. I’d hate to have to explain the damage to Lt. Welsh.

Kowalski: Yeah, you’re right. Let’s do you clothes first.

Vecchio: What’s wrong with my clothes?

Kowalski: Besides the fact that they’re too flashy, they’re dusted with chalk.

Narrator: Vecchio looked down to find that his red and white polka dot silk shirt and red trousers were indeed covered in chalk.

*We here Vecchio let out an angry yell. *

Kowalski: So you’ve gotta change.

Narrator: Vecchio was seething until he realized that this might be a good thing.

Vecchio (to himself): If I’m going to this Mountie-ball-thingy, I want to stand out in the crowd. Wearing red won’t get me anywhere, I’ve gotta wear something noticeable.

Vecchio (to Stanley): Say, you got anything in a classic gray Armani?

Kowalski: Yes, indeedy I do! Spot spit, let’s get at it.

Vecchio (mutters): Yeah, whatever.

Narrator: Meanwhile, back at the Consulate, Fraser has locked himself in his office.

Fraser: I just think that this is the best plan of action.

Fraser Senior: So, you’re taking the easy way out, son?

Fraser: No, dad, it is just that the Inspector has propositioned me 37 times, and the party only started one hour ago.

Fraser Senior: You are a Mountie, son. You can take her.

Fraser: But I don’t want to take her, dad.

Narrator: Robert Fraser blushed slightly.

Fraser Senior: I didn’t mean it that way, son. I only mean that you can handle her, erm, no, I mean, you can deal with her, son. You are a Mountie!

Fraser: I am a Mountie. I can handle…

Narrator: Fraser glanced out of the window in time to see a limousine pull up. Stepping out from it, like a Roman emperor from his golden chariot, was a tall, slim man in a striking gray Armani suit. Fraser’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened a bit. He is stunned (and, hey, who wouldn’t be?)

Fraser: Him. I can take him, and handle him, and deal with him.

Fraser Senior: Um, son?

Dief: Woof! I approve, Ben!

Fraser: You do, Diefenbaker?

Dief: Woof! Yes!

Fraser Senior: Did your grandmother ever tell you about the birds and the bees?

Fraser: Oh dad, really!

Fraser Senior: Because that’s a man.

Fraser (enamored): He certainly is.

Fraser Senior: Why do I sense that my son is on a different page than I?

Narrator: Vecchio was walking to the Consulate door when a hand shot from the bushes, and pulled him in.

Vecchio: What are you doing?

Kowalski: I just wanted to ask you how I look.

Narrator: Stanley turned around, showing his surprisingly flattering suit. It was marred by the thick glasses and dirty tennis shoes.

Kowalski: Well?

Vecchio: Comb your hair.

Narrator: Stanley pulled out a hot pink toiletry case, which he handed to Vecchio. He then pulled out a full-length folding mirror and stuck it against the wall. Out from the case, he pulled out the hair spray and a brush, with which he used to fix his hair.

Kowalski: This is a carefully constructed cool, punk look.

Vecchio (sarcastic): Oh yeah, that looks much better now.

Narrator: Vecchio set the case on the ground, and smoothed out his suit once again.

Vecchio: Why are you here, Stanley?

Kowalski: I forgot to tell you, you’ve gotta be home by midnight, or else.

Vecchio: Or else what?

Kowalski: You’ll be naked and without a car.

*There is a pause. *

Kowalski (con’t): Hm… maybe I shoulda kept that to myself.

Narrator: Vecchio rolled his eyes.

Kowalski: I’m also here to find Turnbull.

Vecchio: What for?

*Backa-ta-wacka music starts up. *

Kowalski: For a little lovin’.

Vecchio: Eeeww… That’ll cool my cucumber for a bit, if I haven’t been traumatized for life.

Narrator: Vecchio left Stanley and his mood music behind, and walked into the Consulate. In the ballroom, a sea of red serge greeted him. There were Mounties everywhere, talking, laughing, drinking, and singing folk songs.

Random Mounties singing at once, very loud and some are high pitched, but none of them are in harmony: We're gonna riiiiiidddeeeee forevvvveeeeerrrrrr! You can't keep horsemen in a caaagggggeeeeeee!

Vecchio: You know I have nightmares that start out like this.

Narrator: Vecchio walked further into the room only to be bombarded by a bunch of Mounties all clamoring to dance with the exotic Italian. Vecchio became slightly distressed.

Vecchio: Those suits are so bright, and all their Canadian goodness is gonna make me puke in a minute. Please send in some relief quick!

Narrator: Fraser, after having to climb out of the window, retrieve the key that he’d accidentally dropped outside, climb back into the window, and unlock his office door, appeared in the ballroom to find the stunning man he had seen outside. Using his fantastic deductive abilities...

Fraser: Thank you kindly.

Narrator: He spied the crowd of Mounties and knew that his beloved was huddled in that mass, scared and alone, unable to help himself, needing to be rescued!

Vecchio: Does poor, pitiful me get the sad, violin music as well?

Fraser: It will be all right, love. I’ll assist you.

Narrator: Fraser, using the grandiose aura that always seems to surround him, moved easily through the group until he reached the center.

Vecchio: Nice job with that dictionary.

Narrator: Fraser took Vecchio’s hand. They looked into each other’s eyes, and all else became unimportant.

Fraser: Would you care to dance?

Vecchio: Sure, do you tango?

Narrator: Fraser led Vecchio to the middle of the dance floor. Once there, he yanked Vecchio towards him so that they were touching at all points. A heavy beat began as we pause for a commercial break.

Commercial Narrator: Cinderella Vecchio is brought to you in part by the following...

*Big band music flares, blindingly for three seconds, then immediately zooms out. *

Commercial Narrator: Sitting behind his desk, a moron makes a paperclip chain. He may seem harmless enough, at first, but this isn't just an ordinary moron, he's a moron with a plan for world domination.

Turnbull: Why, hello everyone! I am going to subdue the local cable company and broadcast Canadian curling and fishing shows on all the stations.

CN: Tomorrow, the USA's third largest city, the next day, the USA, and the day after that, the world!

Turnbull: I'm going to take over the world... just as soon as I finish my dusting.

CN: Be sure to check out "The Drowning Caribou Theater" production of "Turnbull's Bid for the World", airing tomorrow at this same time.

Turnbull: Muuuhhahahha... oh, wait, the Queen's picture isn't straight.

Commercial Narrator: And also by the Classical Ethics Coalition, proving once again that there is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before. Be sure to tune into "A Day in the Life of Raimondus Vecchius, Sheepherder" immediately following this show.

*Idyllic nature sounds fill the air. *

Vecchius: Hey, what are you doing with my brown sheep?

McDonaldus (impishly): Hehe, it's mine now!

Vecchius: See my friends!

*The loud bleating of an angry battalion of Vecchius' sheep are heard in the background, and sound as though they are rapidly approaching. *

Vecchius: See this knife! Now give me my damn brown sheep back!

Narrator: This week, Vecchius and Ianus McDonaldus discuss shepherding and property issues.

*Big band music flares, blindingly for three seconds, then immediately zooms out. *

Narrator: We now return to tonight's presentation of "Cinderella Vecchio." When we last left our heroes, they were gyrating to the tune of "Electric Barbarella" by Duran Duran. Nobody recognized the mysterious stranger, not even his stepfather and stepbrothers.

Welsh: Who is he?

Huey: I've never seen him at any of the other precincts before.

Gardino: Look, he's got that Mountie spellbound. How are we supposed to get at him?

Narrator: Vecchio spotted Huey and Louie giving him the evil eye.

Vecchio: Say, do you think we can go somewhere private?

Fraser: Of course, I'll show you to my office.

Narrator: The moonlight outlined the couple as they perched, hands clasped, on the edge of Fraser's desk. They leaned forward at once, intent to kiss.

*There is a furious knocking on the door. *

Vecchio (frustrated): What the hell is it?

Kowalski: It's one minute to midnight. You've gotta leave now!

Vecchio: Already? What the hell kinda time continuity does this story have?

Fraser: What about midnight, love?

Vecchio: I've gotta get going, Benny.

Fraser: But why?

Narrator: Fraser gave Ray his ultra-strength, hurt, blue-eyed, puppy dog, big-eyed Mountie look.

Fraser: Only to be used in times of emergency, and this is an emergency.

Vecchio: Oh Fraser, don't give me that big-eyed Mountie look! I've got to go now, otherwise I'll be naked and without a car.

Narrator: Fraser blinks.

Fraser: I'm sorry, love, but I fail to see the problem.

Vecchio (desperate): I've got to go!

Narrator: Vecchio rushed to the door, walking like he's in pain, and Fraser gave chase, equally in pain.

*The narrator starts to laugh. *

Vecchio: Hey, shut up! This is a very serious guy problem!

Narrator: Hehe, sorry. Vecchio made it out of the door, but Fraser was stopped by Thatcher who was wearing a minimum of leather attire and holding a long whip in her hand.

Thatcher: I think it's time to show you whose boss, Constable.

Fraser: Oh dear.

Narrator: Vecchio ran through the ballroom and out of the Consulate as the first strike of midnight sounded.

Vecchio: Oh shit!

Narrator: He hurried down the steps but tripped, losing one fine Italian shoe.

Vecchio: Damn! And I can't go back for it.

Narrator: He jumped into the limo and it drove away, leaving behind one irate Pole and one happy Canadian.

Kowalski: Hey, you forgot me!

Turnbull: Don't worry, Stanley. You can stay with me tonight.

Kowalski (suddenly happy): Okay!

Narrator: Fraser ran out, only to see the limo swiftly turn a corner.

Fraser: Oh bindlestitch! I didn't see him naked nor did I ascertain his name and address.

Turnbull: He lost his shoe, sir. Maybe that will help you.

Fraser: Yes, it will. Tomorrow, Turnbull, you will assist me in going to all the Precincts. We will not stop until we find the man whose foot fits this shoe.

Turnbull: But sir, won't that shoe fit several men?

Fraser (defensively): No, it won't!

Dief: Woof! Woof! Don't worry, Ren. The plot will be with us, always.

Narrator: The next day, Ray was back at work, daydreaming about his tango with the Mountie. Everyone was gossiping about last night.

Gardino: Hey Vecchio! I see you missed the ball last night!

Vecchio (smirking): Yeah, I guess I missed one hell of a time, too.

Huey: You sure did.

Vecchio: And did either of you get to dance with the Mountie?

Huey: Uh, well...

Gardino (fast and smugly): Yes, we did. He liked me a lot.

Vecchio: That's nice.

Narrator: Vecchio gave them his I-don't-give-a-shit-I'm-just-so-damn-happy smile, and returned to his two-fingered typing.

Welsh: Huey, Louie, Vecchio! Get in here!

Narrator: They shuffled into Welsh's office.

Welsh: That Mountie will be here soon. Apparently the mysterious man last night lost his shoe, so Benton Fraser is going to all of the precincts in order to find the man. He'll be coming to ours first.

Huey: But sir, aren't there other precincts much closer to the Consulate than ours.

Welsh: Yeah, there is, but this story has already reached 10 pages, and everybody knows what is going to happen, so we'll just cut to the gratuitous sex.

Audience Member 1: Hey! It's not gratuitous sex to us!

Audience Member 2: Any sex featuring Benny and Ray is very necessary to the health and well being of us.

Welsh: Now, I want Huey and Louie out in the bullpen when he comes by.

Vecchio: What about me, sir?

Welsh: Go out and finish dumping those trashcans, since 'somebody' didn't do them last night.

Vecchio (disappointed): Yes, sir.

Narrator: Later that day...

Fraser: Good afternoon, Lt. Welsh. I am Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and this is Constable Renfield Turnbull. I am currently seeking the man whose foot fits this shoe so that we may liaise together, for the improvement of US-Canadian relations, of course, not for any personal reasons.

Welsh: Hang on. I'll get my men together, and you can try them on for size.

Welsh (yells): Huey! Louie! Get in here, now!

Gardino: It's Louis, sir.

Narrator: Huey and Louie hurried in. Turnbull shook his head slightly.

Turnbull: These two are not him, sir.

Fraser: Nevertheless, Constable, we should give them a sporting chance, don't you agree?

Turnbull: Right you are, sir.

Narrator: Meanwhile, outside Vecchio was taking out his frustrations on the garbage cans.

*We here a loud metallic bang. *

Vecchio: Oh, son of a b-

Kowalski (interrupting): Whatcha doing?

Vecchio: Having tea! What does it look like I'm doing?

Kowalski: Not liaising with the Mountie, obviously.

Vecchio: Listen, you smart off to me once more, and I'll put you in the garbage can with the rest of the refuse!

Kowalski: Well, Fraser is inside there now. If you want your chance, here it is.

Narrator: Vecchio started to gesture rudely at Stanley but decided it was not worth it, and rushed inside the Precinct. He made it in time to hear Huey and Louie discussing Mountie-catching strategy.

Gardino: I'm not going to chop off my toes just to fit my foot inside a shoe.

Huey: You're not?

Gardino: No! He's not worth that much.

Narrator: Louie looked up in time to see Fraser smile sweetly.

Gardino: Oh hell, somebody give me a knife!

Huey: It's not gonna work in any case, Louis. You're feet are too small, not too big.

Narrator: Vecchio pushed through to Fraser, hearing the last part of some Inuit story. Welsh was giving Fraser his half-amused, half-exasperated look. Fraser turned to Vecchio, and his eyes went wide.

Welsh: Oh, Constable, this is one of my other detectives, Raymond Vecchio.

Fraser: Will you try this shoe on?

Vecchio (with that half-smile voice that I just love!): For you? Sure thing!

Narrator: Vecchio toed off one shoe and replaced it with the rich Italian leather on his foot. It fit perfectly.

Fraser: You're the one!

Welsh: Congratulations, Vecchio.

Vecchio: Thank you, sir.

Fraser: Shall we go back to my office and pick up where we left off last night?

Vecchio: Nah, I have a better idea. How about we go back to your apartment and discuss 'our partnership'.

Fraser: Excellent idea!

Narrator: They walked outside, Fraser continuing to talk, and Ray didn't mind, since Fraser had a really sexy voice.

Fraser: You know, Ray, my sorta-dead-only-not-really father helped me meet and find you.

Fraser Senior: I did?

Vecchio: Oh really, Benny? What's your father like? Is he nice?

Fraser (goes from happy to uncomfortable as he talks): Oh, well, yes, he... um... Well, once he... Uh... There was this... um.

Fraser Senior: Thanks son.

Fraser (suddenly bright): Well, I have my father's eyes.

*We hear the creak of a case opening. *

Vecchio: Eww, Fraser! That's disgusting!

Fraser Senior: I'd wondered where those went.

Vecchio (frantic): Put 'em away! Put 'em away!

Fraser Senior: Here son, give them to me! They're mine in any case.

Fraser: Here dad.

Narrator: Fraser handed the case to Robert Fraser, who was visibly relieved.

Fraser: Now, maybe I'll be able to see your mother.

Vecchio: Come on, Benny. Let's go.

Narrator: Once safely ensconced within the car, Fraser remembered Turnbull.

Fraser: Wait, we left Turnbull at the station.

Vecchio: Don't worry. I think he'll be busy for a while.

Narrator: They looked back to see Welsh and Stanley arguing over our favorite confused and clumsy Constable.

Dief: Woof! Wuf! Woof! You just had to get that alliteration in, didn't you?

Narrator: Ray, Benny, and Dief drive off in the Riv as we leave our supporting cast on the steps of the 27th.

Gardino: Well, Huey, at least we've still got each other.

Huey: But we're brothers!

Gardino: No, we're not. That was a stupid idea.

Huey: About as stupid as this ending is gonna be.

Narrator: Hey, I'm doing my best guys.

Huey: We understand.

Narrator: Welsh and Stanley were now in a standoff.

Welsh: Let's put it this way, Stanley. I'm taller than you, bigger than you, and at least as handsome. He's going with me.

Kowalski: Why don't we let him decide?

Narrator: They both turned to Turnbull (that sounds funny, doesn't it).

Welsh and Kowalski (together): Well?

*There is a long, long pause. *

Narrator: Tune in next time for...

Kowalski (interrupts): Hey, but we didn't get his answer!

Narrator: Well, it's too late. I've got to get my tea break before the next show begins. And in any case, I need another issue to write about for the next program.

Kowalski: Oh.

Narrator: Be sure to tune in next time when our story will be "Raymond Vecchio and the Frog Mountie."



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