Disney Villains Ward

Chapter 1: Disney Villains Ward

"Good to know, Jaf-"

"JAFAR."

"But the thing is, I didn't ask about your game plan. I asked about your hand and then stated that you hadn't talked much. But good to know for next time. Thanks."

Jafars teeth slowly vanished behind his lips as his grin began to fade away while Ursula hip-swivelingly found her way back to her cell. Hades just watched, his blue flames of hair flickering in the indulgence of the arguments and hatred that literally kept him alive. Jafar took notice.

"What are you looking at, hot-head?"

"Oh you know, just your poker strategies being scattered around the room, that's all." Then, a smirk, and he was gone too.

Keep in mind that residents at the DVW are notorious for giving away their "evil plans" to the "hero" when they think all has been said and done. And according to the therapists, here, "We're all 'heroes' in our own way."

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Though the warden would like to keep all contact with the outside world away from everyone here, she is not inhumane. Jessie the Cowgirl allows outsider visits but under strict regulations: villains must be behind magic-proof glass at all times, talk is available only through phones connected to the wall, and no gifts. LeFou seems to think the last rule doesn't apply to Gaston, though.

"Every time, LeFou! Every. Time. You cannot bring me any gifts." Gaston pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to stay calm so that he wouldn't get transported to his cell.

"But, Gaston, you always said that you eat five-dozen eggs every morning to keep fit and--"

"Exactly. I said that. Said. Not say. Said. I haven't eaten five-dozen eggs since I arrived here. Now, I get two scrambled eggs, once a week. Three tops." This is ridicule! How much more of his pride can they siphon out of him? First, he looses Belle to a beast, and then he gets thrown in here, and now? Now, LeFou is trying to bring him gifts, which he knows Gaston cannot have. 

Why isn't LeFou serving time for what he's done? All "villains" wonder that about their sidekicks. They aided in the endeavor. They're accomplices. But no. They were "lured in" by "the villain's cunning and charming ways." Is nothing fair in this world? Is nothing just? 

Captain Hook slumped down in his seat, sulking in the next visiting booth over from Gaston, who was wondering that exact same thing. Smee had been along with him for the ride, but he lives happily in the S. S. Sidekick: a luxurious cruise liner where all the sidekicks, whether they be to a "hero" or a "villain," live. They can't do much harm without someone telling them what to do, though, so they're able to mingle with everyone.

"Captain, where is your wooden hand that the prison gave you?" Smee squinted down at the pirate's smooth, rounded wrist. 

"Lost it in a poker game," drawled Hook, avoiding eye contact.

"You only have two more strikes, and then they won't give you any more, Captain."

"Good."

"But, Captain-"

"Stop calling me Captain!" For what seemed the thousandth time that day, he slammed the stub on the end of his arm into the nearest object, forgetting that his hook wasn't there. His hook. His marvelously, brilliantly, triumphantly shining hook. Some days, if Smee cleaned it just right, it would shine like the reflection of the sun on the ocean. Hook's bloodshot eyes grazed over to the sight of his missing limb. His mind calmed, and he returned to the matter at hook... err... hand.