AN: Honestly, this has got to be THE most retarded thing I shall ever post. It's not my idea, by the way, it goes with a funny story. While waiting in line for lunch at school, three boys draped their sweatshirts over themselves and started acting British and talking about 'Wimbleton' and tennis. They then declared they would rob the non-wimbleton kitchen and do the 'queen wave', then go back to the country club for tea. I thought the idea was quite endearing, so I decided to write it down. The names in this fic are indeed the names that the boys called themselves. This goes out to Shane, Jordan, and Jordan!

P.S. I do not mean to offend anyone with this. I'm sorry if I do.

"I say!" the tall one announced, "Are we going to play wimbleton at the Country Club?"

"I say!" the blonde one exclaimed, "Prince Charles, you silly goose! Of course we are!"

"Prince, you silly monkey, why are we so dim today?" A third chimed in. "The Country Club is our life!"

"I own the country club, you know." Prince Charles said proudly.

"You do not!" The third remarked.

"Of course I do, you silly goose. I'm rich!" Prince Charles replied.

"Indeed."

Prince Charles looked up proudly and announced, "Let us walk, gentlemen. Come along, Franscesco, Sir Francis the 3rd."

Franscesco, the blonde, and Sir Francis the 3rd, the third one, linked arms with Prince Charles and began to skip down the (YELLOW BRICK) road.

"I do say, we are a trio of silly gooses, we are!" Prince Charles declared.

Franscesco thought for a moment, before replying simply, "Indeed. Let's go rob the non-wimbletons!"

"I love a good pillage!" Sir Francis said with enthusiasm.

The three unhooked arms, and left the road to stand in front of a brick house. "I do say, how do we get in?"

"Oh my GAWD, look dears! A window!" Prince Charles cried, pointing to the one right next to the door. The three pulled out their tennis raquets and smashed the unfortunate window in.

"To the non-wimbleton kitchen!" There was, indeed, no one home and so the three ran to the kitchen and began to pillage assorted snacks. Then bash random things with their golf balls and tennis raquets. The tea and crumpets were left unharmed, though. Rather, they were eaten by the three. They sat on the raquet-beaten sofa, and discussed how 'gangsta' they looked in their sweater vests.

"Well, let me tell you, I discovered something lovely earlier. If you rearrange the letters in the word 'Xemnas', you can spell manse-" Sir Francis was suddenly cut off by the scream of a woman discovering her house trashed and three British men in sweater vests talking about how to spell naughty things. The three abruptly stood up, made a mad dash to the hall closet, stole the hockey sticks confined within, and ran for the hills. The woman was left with a 'What. The. HELL.' look upon her face.

Later, as the three stood around the bonfire they had made in the middle of the Country Club's golf course, (The question was, where did they ever find 'L' shaped firewood?) roasting crumpets and drinking tea, doing the signature 'Queen wave' to everyone who passed with 'WTF' expressions, Prince Charles declared proudly, "I own this Country Club you know."

"You silly goose, you've already told us that 93769379292 times." Franscesco said, bouncing a golf ball using a tennis raquet.

"Lovely day, it is." Sir Francis the 3rd said dreamily, as he was on his back looking up at the clouds. The others suspected he had somehow ingested a piece of hockey stick, and was therefore acting strange. That, or he was on crack. You decide.

"I know!" Prince Charles exclaimed. "Aren't I the, how do you say, the 'Fo Rizzle'?"

"Indeed you are." Franscesco replied, taking a considerate sup of his tea.

"Ahahaha!" Prince Charles laughed a tinkly laugh, one that was usually reserved for woman. In an attempt to sound 'Gangsta' he shouted, "HAHA! YES, I OWN THIS EARTH BEETCHES!" He looked to Franscesco. "Did I say it right?"

Franscesco nodded happily. "I do say, we kick AHHHSSS. AHHHHSS, I say." The two fell over in giggles. Sir Francis joined in.

The three were quite enjoying their laughfest when it started to rain. The three gasped as their fire went out. "OH NO! Oh no, I say!" Prince Charles exclaimed in horror, bringing his hand up to rest on his forehead. Sir Francis brought both hands to clasp his cheeks in terror. Franscesco simply shrieked, "Somebody hold my hand, I say!"

The three suddenly pulled up their sweatshirts that hung over their backs so that they covered their heads. They all grinned happily as they linked arms and skipped into the sunset.

"I do say-ay-ay! These sweaters are so FUNCTIONAL!"

And at that moment, all was right in the world.

"Oh my GAWD, another non-wimbleton house! LET THE PILLAGING BEGIIIIN!"

Or not.

AN:Lawlz. I hope you enjoy this little escapade as much as I did.

(These characters are quite interesting...I may make a sequel, if you want.)