And remember... It's our little secret.

Claudius: My dreams were shattered years ago.

Hamlet: How many years ago?

The day had gone exceptionally well. Although there were one or two hiccups, everything seemed to run as smoothly as was planned. Scar chose to steer clear of the grieving guests at the reception afterwards. Mufasa was still alive, and so the plan was yet to be completed. He had already received enough condolences for the loss of his nephew to last him a lifetime that day. Plus, Simba wasn't really dead, was he? And that gut wrenching feeling that the little runt could burst through those doors at any moment made him not want to stand there and listen to his peers talk about what a great guy he was. He had to do something about that, otherwise it really was another spanner in the works. He was the one who told the boy to leave, and never return. He could easily put the blame on him if he were to come back. Scar marched down to his office and slammed the door shut, waiting a few moments before pulling out his phone and calling Shenzi.

He drove out to the Outlands later that evening, after arranging a time and meeting place with the three incompetent employees of his. The snow seemed to have died down a bit by now, although the roads were still quite slippery and there seemed to be a fair bit of traffic. Perhaps he should have hired a driver, since there was no way he would use Zazu for this particular journey. The sound of sirens and gunshots helped guarantee he was getting closer to the shadowlands. He lowered his front lights and drove towards the violent geysers, stopping outside their usual hideout. He could hear them joking around and cackling from the outside, he made his way into the cave, only for the echo of their piercing laughter to grow louder. The pack were swigging bottles and seemed to be celebratory, like most of the Outlands at this time. Banzai was unfortunately currently putting on his best impression of Scar, prancing around the small space. Scar snarled as he watched and the other three broke into tears of laughter, before Shenzi noticed him stood there, quickly prodding Ed to stop and gesturing a cut throat to Banzai.

Banzai's eyes widened as he attempted to laugh it off. "Hahahaha, Scar! H-Hey boss, what are ya doin' here? We was jus' talkin' 'bout ya!" Scar couldn't help but roll his eyes, he knew precisely what they were up to. Charming.

"Yeah, shouldn't ya be grievin' for Siiimba or somethin'?" Shenzi asked, exaggerating the name, in a deep tone similar to the one Mufasa would use when addressing the boy. The three of them laughed.

Scar stood straight, clearing his throat to grab their short attention again. "I would, but you fools failed to kill him." The three all looked at eachother -- except Ed, who stared dumbly at the wall. "Heh... Sure we did! We found the lil' rat runnin' from a bar fight when ya told us to, we followed 'im to the waters an' smacked the dumbo in th' head! He didn't know what hit 'im!" At this point, Ed was already rolling on the floor in laughter, until he was rudely whacked in the arm by his sister, who continued. "Yeah, we did everythin' ya told us to. Once he was out cold -- we'll spare ya the gory details but we did what ya asked, boss."

Scar could feel his jaw clench.

"You knew it wasn't him, didn't you?"

The siblings looked at eachother, then to their superior. "Hahaha.. Wh--What are ya talkin' 'bout?! Jus' 'cause we disfigured the bast'rd?!? Ya think we knew it weren't 'im! HAHAH--" Although Banzai was technically much stronger than Scar ever was, the man still managed to grab him bu the throat. He roared as he turned to the other two.

 "IDIOTS! You thought you could fool me?!" Scar dropped him, letting Banzai grasp at his neck. "You thought you could fool the kingdom?! Do you have ANY idea what will happen if they FOUND THE BOY ALIVE?!"

They collectively nodded and took a step back in slight fear.

"Then why was it not HIM?!"

Banzai interrupted as soon as he could speak again. "Y-You were the one goin' 'round tellin' ev'ryone he was dead, we was jus' tryna--" He stopped as Shenzi told him to shutup through gritted teeth. Scar couldn't believe what he was hearing, nor did he expect such an imbecile to dare speak back to him like that. He knew he should have let Valentina deal with them when he had the chance, but no, he deemed they could be useful to him. What a mistake that turned out to be. Scar glared at them, before letting out a sigh. "You will find him. You will kill him. You will burn the body until there is not a trace of him left. Do I make myself clear?"

They all nodded.

"S-Sir, the coroner is on the line..." The man stood there, shaking. Sweating. A nervous wreck as he appeared through Scar's office door. Scar peered up, noticing Zazu's panicked state. It wasn't unusual for the assistant to be like this whenever he approached his superior, but this was disconcertingly more so than usual. Scar was reclined, stretched out with his legs resting on the desk. He glared at Zazu. "Is that all?" The man nodded, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. "Well, then. Get out." He waited for him to scurry away before sitting up and pressing down on the beeper of the telephone. "Kiburi speaking."

The man was professional. He had to make these sorts of phonecalls a fair few times a day. He was far more together than Zazu's blubbering mess. "Ah." Scar took a moment, a breather perhaps, to gather his thoughts. They had found a young man's body by a stream in the Outlands. The Outlands, of all places. He was pleased this was a telephone call, an easy way to disguise a cackle with a whimper. "I see." He paused. "And does Sarabi know?"

"Thank you."

One place Scar definitely didn't have on his list to visit today was the local mortuary, but here he was, arm around a hysterical Sarabi's shoulder. The lighting was daunting, he felt like he had stepped into one of Hades' seedy properties. Scar had to continue his best performance, the one where he would act like he cared. He wanted this to be over and done with as soon as it could be possible. Identify a body. Comfort the grieving mother. Give the reporter's a few statements. Hold a funeral. That's it. Be done with it. Be King.

"This way, please." A woman dressed head to toe in white ushered them into a separate room.

The mortician questioned whether the boy in front was the prince or not. Scar turned to Sarabi, who couldn't even look as she clutched her own face, dampened by tears. Scar looked back to the lifeless body lying on the slather in front. The face had been mauled beyond recognition, there were chunks missing, like some sort of animal tried to tear off the flesh for their evening meal. The wounds had blackened, the skin had turned a dull shade of grey and the chest was bloated. Poor boy, Scar thought, as he stared on -- he could hear his sister in-law's piercing scream from behind, as the mortician scrambled to help. Scar pulled the white sheet back over the body.

It wasn't him.

He could feel his fist clench as he let go of the sheet. A true sickening feeling built up in his stomach. "It's him." He announced, and the screaming got louder as Sarabi fell to the floor. He turned back to the two women, head held down as he remained to stare at the ground. It wasn't him, that measly good for nothing pack had failed him once again. He should have killed the boy himself.

The morticians gave their condolences to the family as they left, Sarabi was a mess, as would be expected. Scar spoke to the coroner, who provided him with information for the royal funeral. Scar requested two changes when he spoke to the director, however. That it would be on a much smaller scale and that the body could be cremated. The undertaker pursed his lips and breathed in through his teeth. He said they would have to confirm this with the mother of the deceased. Scar knew she was in no fit state to do so. He looked at the clock behind the man and turned his glare to meet his eyes. "Do excuse me, but I have a press conference to get to. We will have to continue this later, once you have consulted the grieving mother." The bitter tone in his voice made the man slam his directory shut on the counter.

After a brief disturbance from Nala, there was another knock at his door that evening. Again, it was Zazu, still in the same distraught shape as before. "S-Sir..." He broke off, stood in the doorway once more. He couldn't seem to speak. Scar glanced up from the mountain of paperwork he had to get through for the funeral arrangements, arching his eyebrow. "What is it, Zazu?"  His tone was frustrated, he sat up and crossed his arms over his chest.

"The -- The hospital called." The imbecile started to cry. "Th-they d-don't think Mufasa will make it through a-another week." He sniffed, and attempted to look at Scar, although there seemed to be a hint of anger in his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry." Scar feigned upset, holding his hand over his mouth. "Oh. How awful..." Zazu never let go of his stare. Scar tried not to laugh, perhaps the birdbrain wasn't as stupid as he thought. He couldn't wait until he was under his full command. This was it, if Mufasa didn't pull through this meant he could finally rule the Pridelands. He stood himself from his desk, and slipped on the jacket hung over the chair with a smirk. "Well then." He said, towering over the other man as he walked past.

kovu: hy scar ur a pisce of shit yknow that???

kovu: i dont env kno w if this si your actu al number

kovu: somE dud e gave i t to me bt like cn i fuc kin trust an yone ni this shithole

kovu: wh yd o you pre tend w edon t exi st

kovu: fck nevrmind dnt bohter ansring yull just be fu ll o f shit nywy

Valentina: MY TEA IS TOO HOT!!!!! SCAR! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU I'LL!!! I'LL!!!! I'LL DO SOMETHING!!!!

Valentina: YOU DARE MAKE PLANS WITHOUT ME???? I'M COMING OVER. RIGHT NOW.