"So this is the anniversary of what again?" Tandi asked curiously. The former sex-bot was attending the festivities at the invitation of the Lair's Resident A.I. Hallie, who was busy affixing holographic ribbons decoratively around the main hall of Parody Mansion.

"The beginning of all this" the holographic woman replied, making adjustments in the lighting effects in order to provide the perfect party atmosphere. "Sort of the beginning of the Lair Legion... unofficially... and everything it has led to."

"Isn't there a hard date for that?" Tandi asked. "One with keys to the city being presented by the Mayor, and public speeches and parades and whatnot?" The artificial redhead scrunched up her mouth in remembrance. "Wouldn't something like that be in the papers?"

"Yes, but that's the date for the public..." Hallie explained, opting for some more mood lighting over by the jukebox. There was a stage set up as well, for some live music as the night went on. "This party is just for us, behind the scenes."

"Oooh... like the parties that the politicians have in the lead up days of their political conventions."

"Not exactly..."

"You mean there won't be speeches? A lot of pressing the flesh?"

The holographic woman shrugged. "Well, there may be some speeches if the mood hits someone... you never know when people get nostolgic and drunk just what they'll be doing. But not so much the handshaking. This is a party for Legion and invited guests... not the general public. It's not about observing a date so much as everything that has happened in the last ten years." She looked about the room wistfully. "So many people have been through here... Today is about cramming as many of them back in the mansion to bounce off each other and create some new memories."

Tandi nodded. "Right... cramming bodies together to bounce off each other..." She gave her friend a puzzled look. "Who said anything about handshaking?"

---

"So are you taking the job?" Fleabot asked, jumping up on Visionary's dresser as the Regular worked to tie his tie.

Visionary cast the tiny robot a wary look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hey, it's me" the robot reminded him. "Just accept that I hear things and dish already."

Visionary opened his mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut again with a grimace. "I don't know yet. Maybe."

"It's quite an honor, you know."

"It makes me queasy just thinking about it."

"Good" Fleabot decided. "You're getting fat again anyway. Putting you off your crullers can only help."

"I'll have you know these are the same pants I wore ten years ago" the Regular sniffed indignantly.

"Yes, and kudos on playing the long gamble that any of your outfits will someday come into style. Most would have given up after the first decade, but you hold fast. That's the kind of stability that people recognize. Not admire, mind you, but still..."

The Legionnaire gave the robotic flea a scowl. "They're perfectly good pants, clearly labeled size 32."

"And how many times were they let out by Fashion Accessory in exchange for a higher grade?"

"Um..." Visionary tightened his tie, which hung awkwardly with the back side longer than the front. "We better get going... the party's starting."

---

"So... what?" Joan Henry, the giant, steam-driven robot asked, glaring at the security hippo that hovered nearby. "I'm to be under a secure escort through this whole shindig?"

"Nae at all, lass. Ah'm aff duty tonecht, indulgin' in a bit ay partyin' like averywoon else here." Sgt. MacHarridan explained as he helped himself to a scotch whiskey from the bar. " Ah cannae speak fur anyain else here, but aam nae givin' ye any undo attention based oan yer legal troobles."

"Right" the towering, paroled convict answered dubiously. "So my history as a professional fighter who went wild, resulting in public endangerment, disorderly conduct and destruction of property in a vicious cross-town, late night fight doesn't earn me a bit of scorn in these circles?"

"Sounds like ah right regular Saturday night tae me."

She raised a mechanical eyebrow as she considered this. "So why haven't you taken your eyes off me since I got here?" she asked.

MacHarridan smiled as he downed his whiskey.

---

---

To be continued whenever anyone feels like it... Pick two or more characters and write some small talk. It doesn't need to go anywhere, or be about anything. Pick any two character you like and have them at the party. Feel free to drop some foreshadowing about where your characters might be going in the future, or reflect on things in the past. It's a party, so enjoy it!

"I support this prelude to hippo/robot sex" Dream declared as he filled up his plate from the dessert end of the buffet.

"They're just talking" Hatman noted reasonably. "That's what people do at parties like this... they mingle."

Amber St. Claire, the Legion's Government Liaison Officer, looked over towards the two large figures by the bar. "Maybe they're just comparing internal P.S.I. necessary for explosion."

"Oh, I just bet they are" CrazySugarFreakBoy responded with a grin. "C'mon... it's obvious. Look at the way the Sergeant is lookin' at her! Miiri, back me up on this!"

The Caphan woman, trained to read intimate details from body language since she was a young girl, merely smiled and sipped her drink.

Princess Uhunalura of the Abhumans watched the two with fascination. "How would a Detonator Hippo and an iron robot even..."

"That's classified 'Need to Know'..." Herbert Garrick interjected quickly before the eager fluorescent Legionnaire could answer. The Presidential Advisor sipped his drink with a shudder. "...And I really don't."

---

Marie Murcheson, resident banshee and mystical protector of the Lair Mansion stiffened. "Something strange has happened..." she noted with alarm, looking around the kitchen.

Flapjack was about to make a joke when he saw the look on her face. "What? What is it?"

"I'm... not sure" the spirit answered. "It does not have the feel of a threat, and yet... it is very odd."

"That..." Space Ghost slurred from under the kitchen table. "...Is exactly how I feel about Gary Coleman."

Hallie ignored him. "All right... we'll go spread the word that people should be on the lookout for anything unusual."

"Why am I still wearing pants?" the plastered Legionnaire wondered aloud.

"Overly unusual" Hallie amended.

"Gotcha... no problem" answered Mindy Pyrite as she helped Lair Interns Art and Randy with some fresh trays of hor d'oeuvres.

---

You only have a Tenth Anniversary once... I say we open it up to allow any character from the Parodyverse, ever, to mingle plot free. Continuity be damned for a day.

"Hello," said Rocket Raccoon, "and who would you two lovely ladies be?"

The Wooster Twins handed their invitation (courtesy of Hatman they had scored an invite) to the doorman and giggled at the anthropomorphic hero.

"Trudi Wooster," said Trudi, "Is this, like, a costume party?"

"Like no one totally told us!" Exclaimed Jenny.

The girls entered the party with Rocket Raccoon trailing them closely...


To be continued.

Amber St Clair looked over at Art, Mindy and Randy "Wait a moment...I saw...I saw them di-"

"Saw what?" CSFB! enquired looking around the room expectantly.

Amber stares at the three formerly dead interns for a moment before glancing back to Dream. "Hmm? What were you saying?" she asks, somewhat vaguely. And then the conversation turns to which hors d'oeuvres are the best ones.

Meanwhile, over in the corner, the small, pale, waifish wisp of a girl all in frilly black lace with emo eyes and goth hair smiles smugly to herself...all but unnoticed by the assembled Legionnaires and guests.


To be continued?

Al B. plot or just randomness - you decide!

nt

Fin Fang Foom occupied a corner of the dance floor warily, watching the proceedings, alert for suspicious activity. One could never be too careful, especially in light of the warnings they had received. "Who's that talking to Sir Mumphrey?" he asked Dancer.

The athletic brunette looked up from inspecting the jukebox's playlist and peered around. "Where?" She tried to see across the crowded room, but she didn't have the dragon's height advantage. "Give me a description" she suggested.

"She's dressed in, starting from the ground up, a pair of navy-blue Chuck Taylor All-Star high-tops over a pair of argyle socks. Her pants are well-worn jeans, ripped in places. Moving up her body, she's wearing a graying black hoodie, and under it a black T-shirt. On her wrists are a few too many bracelets and a couple of wrist bands. A few of her fingers have some rings on them as well. Her black nail polish is cracked and chipped in places... She has short, sandy blond hair which is pulled back and into two small ponytails, one on each side of the back of her head. She has somewhat pale skin and is wearing a pair of black plastic glasses."

"Oh, that's one of Chad and Ronnie's friends" Dancer replied. "And may I say, what an oddly detailed description..." she added with a twinkle in her eye. "Someone certainly grabbed your attention... do I detect a crush in progress?"

"Yes! Please help!" came the muffled reply of spiffy from somewhere behind the dragon's bulk.

The Makluan sniffed and raised his massive head with dignity. "I'm a highly trained crimefighter" he informed her. "Honed observational skills are an indispensable tool of the trade."

"Naturally" the brunette agreed. "By the way..." she pointed halfway across the room to the buffet table. "You may want to take your tail out of the spinach dip."

---

"Look..." the wired wonder tried to explain, "...it's not that I have anything against furry things per se..."

The Bonsai Kittens and Violet the Part-time Cat circled him menacingly. "Go on" they urged dangerously.

A pair of grubby hands deftly pilfered a plate of pad-thai from the buffet unnoticed by anyone.

“Alright!” Griffin exclaimed to his sister, both of them hidden under the table. “What is this do you think?”

“It looks like Asian noodles." Magweed screwed up her nose, "I still don’t understand why you wanted us to hide out under here."

“So we can spy on the folks silly.” Griffin said to his sister. “It’s more than likely that someone or other will try to ruin this party.”

Magweed parted the two table cloths that concealed her and her brother under the table slightly and peered through the opening.

“Everything looks peaceful enough,” she said. “Well except for what the Bonsai Kittens are doing to CrazySugarFreakBoy.”

Her brother crawled over and peered through over her shoulder.

“Who is that girl over there in the corner?” Magweed asked.

“Where?” Griffin replied, craning his neck to see.

“The one in all black.”

“I don’t see anyone?”

“What do you mean you –“

But Magweed was cut off from questioning her brother further as a loud “crash” occurred – someone had dunked ManMan into the punch bowl!


To be continued???

"Well, there goes the punch" Yuki noted. "Sooner than I would have guessed."

"Cobra's in a mood" Banjooooo informed her, munching on some Swedish meatballs. "Not that she isn't always, but still... ManMan should have listened to Knifie and not pushed his luck."

"Wow... she's really good with that plunger" the cyborg Legionnaire observed with admiration. "She gets her whole body into the action."

"Dedication" the Sea Monkey agreed.

"So..." Yuki said, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "You wouldn't happen to know why the government bigwigs spent all afternoon meeting with Mumphrey, Hatman and Visionary, would you?"

Banjoooo choked, and needed to use his newly formed meatball swallowing superpower before he could answer. "Ah... did they?"

The private detective Legionnaire smiled. "Yep. And I noticed you, and Donar, and some other current and former heads-of-state types showed up for it as well."

"We're just here for the party."

Yuki nodded. "Yes... I'm sure that's it." She turned back towards the buffet table. "Should somebody help Manny? That plunger seems pretty firmly affixed to the back of his head."

"Hmmmm..." Banjooooo considered it. "I suppose we should have Elsqueevio part the punch" he decided. "And maybe ask Ruby if Mr. Lye is able to get cranberry stains out of sequined jumpsuit."

---

"... And guys in their 30s who dress up in well-worn fursuits and post pornographic fan art of their hideously designed fursonas online."