Previous Post Dancer’s Land That Common Sense Forgot Adventure Tie-In: “In addition to cappuccino and personal hygiene these tribespeople have not yet invented underwear.” Dancer: Hi. Do you happen to have an English to people-pointing-spears-at-you phrasebook? People pointing spears at her: Oog aak oorg ukk! Dancer: You see, the phrase I was specially hoping to find was “Thank you very much, but I don’t really want to marry the volcano god.” People with spears: Gromtaar! Gromtaar! Dancer: I hope that translates as “have a cappuccino, welcome guest.” People with spears, pushing Dancer forward: Oog uurk aag oork! Dancer: This isn’t the way to the Tourist Information Bureau, is it? [The Story So Far: Dancer has got dragged into a multi-part crossover event which has resulted in her being dropped into the Land That Common Sense Forgot, a terrible dangerous place thought up by the Hooded Hood (not the Parodyverse character, the really evil one that writes stories). Right now a bunch of bone-wearing tribespeople who haven’t invented dentists or personal hygiene have decided that it would be a good idea to throw her into the local volcano. Because that’s what happens in these kind of tales, you know it is.] [The Scene: Dancer is thrown into a big bamboo cage while the tribespeople go wake up the volcano god. The other prisoner looks up, surprised but hopeful.] Amber St Clare: Dancer! What are you doing here? Dancer: Good question. One minute I was using my day off to help out Hatty – not in a Liu Xi/Lara/Chiaki sense, just checking on someone for him, and the next I’m being sent here by this old Chinese guy who could really use some face cream. Also, I think I’m about to become Mrs Volcano God. Amber: Me too. What are we going to do? Dancer: Well, I could have him Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and we share him Sundays? Amber: What are we going to do before they throw us into the bubbling caldera of burning lava? I don’t suppose your probability dancing powers have come back yet have they? This would be a very plot-convenient point for that to happen. Dancer, twirling experimentally: Nope. At least they’re not cutting in with the level of twirling I can decently do in this grass skirt they dressed me in. In addition to cappuccino and personal hygiene these tribespeople have not yet invented underwear. Amber: Grass underwear isn’t very comfortable. The seeds get everywhere. Um, so I’m told. Dancer: You know, one day we really need an Amber St Clare solo story. Amber: Really that’s more likely if I’m not thrown to the Volcano God. Anyhow, I’m more into Volcano Goddesses. Dancer: It’s good that you’re able to come out of the closet before you go into the volcano. Amber: The grass skirts are really helping. Dancer: I don’t suppose there’s going to be an eclipse or something in the next few minutes, is there? That’s usually the way people get out of situations like this. Or do you have a watch or torch we can baffle the superstitious natives with? Amber: I don’t have a watch. I have hay fever. I think I’m allergic to my skirt. And also to coconuts. Dancer: Maybe we can talk to them. Do you understand any of their language? Maybe they’re here on a package tour holiday from Mexico? Amber: It’s got a few words in common with ancient Mayan. I can make out a few phrases. [*catches Dancer’s look*] Hey, I believe in being prepared for my job. Just because I haven’t yet had to fend of complaints from angry members of South American pantheons doesn’t mean it won’t happen. You know it’s only as matter of time. Dancer: Do you have the phrase for “Please don’t throw us into the molten lava. I’m due back in the theatre for a matinee tomorrow at three.”? Amber: I think ‘errrk’ means pair of coconuts. At least I hope it does. Dancer, looking for a way to escape: You’d think the Lair Legion training program would cover how to pick locks with a blade of grass, wouldn’t you. But no, it’s all about how to not get trodden on by Finny. Which is also very useful, admittedly. Amber: We could try and persuade them to let us out using our feminine wiles. Dancer: Which of them is going to cheat with the bride of their Volcano God? I mean if he gets pissed he’s not likely to just send them a stern letter to their PO box, is he? Amber: So we’re doomed? Doomed! Dancer: Well, if Kerry was here she’d have set fire to our grass skirts by now, and then burned the cage up. Amber: So we could escape. Dancer: Possibly for that reason. We have to think how we can get away using the things we have available to us in this cell. Amber: Well, if we had a long piece of string and one of us went topless we could make a kind of primitive telephone. Dancer: Okay, let’s try this… [Dancer uses the half-coconut shells to dig down into the dirt so they can uproot the bars of the cage and run away carrying it.] Amber: They’re chasing us, shouting and frothing. Dancer: That always happens when I go topless. Amber: You’d expect people would be better behaved on topless beaches. Dancer: On topless beaches, yes… That is where I meant. Amber: They’re also catching up, given that we’ve having to run carrying a bamboo cage. And they have pointy spears. Dancer: Quick, head for the volcano. Amber: For the volcano? I thought the idea was to not to have a very hot date with a pool of molten lava. Dancer: Their idea was for us to become brides of the Volcano God. But I have an idea too. [They get to the lip of the caldera] Can you translate to them for me? Amber: If it involves the words grass skirt, volcano, or possibly coconuts then yes. Dancer: Tell them that if they don’t go away we’ll jump into the volcano. Amber: Er, that’s the plan is it? Only I think we should really put these plans to the vote. I vote no. Dancer: Tell them. Trust me. I’m an ex-superhero. I do stupid things all the time. Amber: Er, woot wog eek Goomtaar aark uurg. Or is that uurm? Tribespeople: Eek? Aark uurm woot Goomtaar wog? Ooork! Amber: They seem frightened by that. Why? Tribespeople: Ooork! Oork! Oork! Dancer: Ah well, here’s why my specialist dating expertise comes in handy. You see there’s a big difference between throwing two girls into the volcano after all the rituals to make them Mrs Volcano and throwing them in while they’re still free and single. Amber: Why? And why are those tribespeople putting down their spears and backing away carefully? Not that I’m complaining. Dancer: Well, if a couple of hot unattached babes dropped in on the Volcano God and got to know him what would all the other Mrs Volcano Gods say? They might get pretty angry over the Volcano God – let’s call him Barry – over Barry cheating on them. And then they’d blame the tribespeople for sending two blatant hussies down there to cause marital strife between the lava sheets. And that could get explosive. Amber: You’re saying they’re worried that we might tempt the volcano god to two-time his brides? Or three-time them, maybe? Dancer: You can bet that Barry wouldn’t call us the next day though. It’d be all ‘Oh, the lava dissolved your number, babe.’ Amber: This is a Dancer adventure, isn’t it? It doesn’t have to make sense. At least the tribespeople have gone away. Now we can break out of this cage and run for it. Dancer: Yes. And then we can look for some more coconuts. Before we get too chilly. [They head off into the jungle] Barry the Volcano God: Damn. Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2008 reserved by Sarah Shepherdson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2008 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Sarah Shepherdson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.