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> Dancer #49: Stop being distracted by the people trying to stamp out the flames in the groin of the worthless human screaming in the centre of that thronging mob and deliver your message before I eliminate your family for the last twelve generations.
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> [The Scene: Blackballs, the latest hottest nite-club is Parodiopolis, where a queue of hopeful socialites and party animals wait along the waterfront to pay $200 to crush into a dark loud sweaty pit – but a designer, exclusive dark loud sweaty pit.]
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> Trudi Wooster: Hey, isn’t that the Shepherdson girl that lurks in that crumbling badly-decorated lighthouse with Visionary? What’s she doing cutting the line to the VIP entrance? She doesn’t even have any labels showing.
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> Jenny Wooster: And you’re showing very nearly everything. I dunno, I guess she must have wised up on that Danny fashion disaster and done it with a celeb at last. Can you see who’s escorting her?
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> Trudi, peering over the crowds: Big hunky guy with bad skin and an attitude. Has Brad Pitt had some facial surgery done lately? If so he went to the same doctor as Cher.
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> Jenny, straining to see: Anyway, whoever it is can’t be that important. The guys in the security t-shirts aren’t opening the barrier. They’re… [watches as four security guys fly in a high parabola and land in the middle of the river] They’re handing him a gold VIP pass.
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> Kerry Shepherdson, to her date: That wasn’t necessary. These guys always let us in when I tell them who I am. Often they go and hide.
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> Dark Thugos: These lowlies tremble in the presence of the probability arsonist? I would have these so-called security guards fed to my pig-dog-lizard-thing warbeasts. With special sauce.
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> Kerry: Well, occasionally a special fire alarm in necessary so me and the guys can slip in during the confusion. You’d be amazed how inflammable sanitary towel dispensers can be with the right provocation. But mostly they usually let me in when I tell them I’m Sarah’s sister.
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> Thugos: They know Sarah? But then, they are mostly young and male and of no discernable value or character, so of course they would.
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> Kerry: Let’s just get inside before the paparazzi find us. I don’t want that many deaths on my conscience.
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> Thugos: I have given my word to limit casualties to those who truly require cleansing from the Parodyverse. The rest I am simply marking down for destruction later when I ravage your planet.
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> Kerry: Just so long as it’s only my planet, buster. Keep those hands to yourself. I don’t ravage on the first date.
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> Thugos: You do not tremble that I will bring doom and destruction to your homeworld?
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> Kerry: Hey, I’m sure we’ll all be pretty concerned about it when you get to the top of the rota. But this is, what, Friday? Right now we’re all pretty concerned about Thighmaster. Tomorrow it’ll be Anihillatus. Then I think it’s Ultizon’s turn to doom and destroy us, but I’d have to check the schedule. The whole list’s backing up.
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> Thugos, striding into Blackballs, shouldering aside all who stand in his way (which is good etiquette for night clubbing): Ah, you have brought me to a placed of torment and punishment to en joy the agonised writhings of the damned.
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> Kerry: Actually, that’s the mosh pit. Take a deep breath. We’re going in.
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> Thugos: I am certain that I will emerge triumphant. Most of these feeble participants have not even brought energy weapons.
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> Kerry: Er, that’s not quite what I was… [spots a huge crowd of admiring guys ringing a section of dancefloor] *sigh* Okay, I think I found my sister. Barge this way.
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> [Kerry and Thugos burn and crush their way past the bar towards the illuminated raised dancefloor]
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> Sarah Shepherdson, Kerry’s big sister and secretly the superheroic Probability Dancer (hence the title of the series, in case you were wondering): No honestly, I’m pretty sure it’s just dislocated, Tony. I don’t know what went wrong. When I do that I never pop my hip.
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> Kerry: Yeah, she’s very flexible. Ask any bathroom wall.
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> Sarah: Kerry? What are you doing here? How did you manage to get the tracking tag off this time?
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> Kerry: What, I’m not allowed on a big night out with my date? You’re the only person who gets to drag some unsuspecting man and out torment then cripple him?
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> Sarah: Oh, I’m not with Tony. But Rudy’s been queuing at the bar for forty minutes now, so after Logan collapsed with exhaustion and Nico decided his future lay in entering some kind of monastery somewhere Tony was kind enough to dance with me.
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> Tony: Hello? I’m in pain here. Could somebody help me out?
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> Dark Thugos: Dark Thugos will ease your passing, worthless human.
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> Sarah, watching Tony flee: See, I knew his leg wasn’t all that bad. Bye Tony! Call me. And give my love to Grace at the ER room! [Then Shep catches up on the cast list] Dark Thugos?!!? Kerry, your date for the evening is Dark Thugos???!!!
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> Kerry: What, you’re the only Shepherdson allowed to drag bad choices to loud dives to make fools of themselves? I mean apart from Karl and Vizh, naturally.
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> Dark Thugos: I have come to observe futile human behaviour as part of my plan to derive a formula which will give me total domination over all the Parodyverse. And also because otherwise I would still be washing dishes at the Bean and Donut.
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> Sarah: And what does Danny say about this, Kerry? We wasn’t kind of vexed that you’d dumped him to go off with a different villain? He didn’t seem in any way… Moderatory?
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> Kerry: I’m sure I have no idea what Mister Lyle might think about this or why I should care in the slightest anyhow.
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> Sarah: Ah, of course. It’s Friday. Thighmaster dooms and destroys us and Kerry and Danny split up again.
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> Thugos: Let that ineffectual knock-off weep his remorse then shrivel up and die. I am clearly the superior… why is Appalling Arthur here on your miserable planet? [he gestures to a man in spiky alien armour striding over trailing Kirby dots]
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> Kerry: Appalling Arthur? [glances at Sarah] Should I know him from the Who’s Who?
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> Sarah: I don’t think so. He’s clearly Apocalytptian, but I think he’s just been made up for the purposes of this story. He’s not ripped from a Kirby original or anything.
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> Appalling Arthur: Hey! I doom-tubed across half the Parodyverse to bring an urgent plot-point message to my dread lord, thank you very much.
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> Rudy, reappearing from the throng clutching to Sex on the Beaches: And I squeezed all the way to the bar and got us those drinks at last, angelbuns!
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> Dark Thugos: You will not address Dark Thugos as angelbuns.
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> Rudy: ……… [drops the cocktails]
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> Sarah; Drat. Now you’ll just have to queue all over again, Rudy.
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> Rudy: All those bathroom walls better be right about you, Sarah. [pushes his way back into the crowd]
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> Kerry: You know, I’ve got a feeling that that fire Rudy’s feeling in his shorts is going to have a whole new meaning in a few moments time.
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> Dark Thugos: Appalling Arthur, stop being distracted by the people trying to stamp out the flames in the groin of the worthless human screaming in the centre of that thronging mob and deliver your message before I eliminate your family for the last twelve generations.
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> Sarah: But… I thought Rudy might be the one…?
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> Kerry: Not after all that stamping. Not if you were planning to give Ma those grandkids she’s been scheduling.
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> Appalling Arthur: Master, you have been betrayed. While you were here planning the doom and destruction of the worthless humans the worthless humans have treacherously attacked and conquered Apocalyspe! Even now Lord Steppenstoat has launched a punitive invasion fleet to doom-tube in and render this world to a cinder, but Granny Grimness sent me to warn you of this assault from Lord Danny and…
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> Dark Thugos: Lord. Danny. Danny Lyle. Denial. Lord. Danny.
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> Kerry: Danny? Well, I guess I had left him Friday night free. But he always promised he’d take me along when he blew up Apocalyspe, that cheating no-good slime.
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> Sarah: Punitive invasion fleet? Doom-tubing in to render this world a cinder? Boy, Thighmaster’s going to be really pissed.
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> Appalling Arthur: Master, while you were diverted by dalliance with this mortal wench, her young comrades have accompanied this Lord Danny to take on the might of your minions and bring doom and destruction. And to have pizza delivered.
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> Dark Thugos: Danny. Lyle. [evaporates Appalling Arthur with his Entropy Eyebeams]
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> Kerry: Yeah, you were right. AA wasn’t one of the Kirby originals. I don’t know why they didn’t just put him in a red shirt.
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> Sarah: Hold it! You can’t just annihilate minions right here in front of me. Well, obviously you can, but now I’m going to have to bring you to justice, Thuggy!
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> Dark Thugos: You threaten me? You send your Juniors to assault my empire, you set your sister to seduce me, you try to bind me with your feeble heath and hygiene regulations, and now you seek to threaten Dark Thugos, Tyrant of Apocalyspe, Master of the Kirby Dots, even as I stand here in a characteristic pose with my hands clasped behind my back? Do you? Do you?
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> Jenny Wooster: Brad! I hardly recognised you with that designer grey suntan! How have you been since the golden globes?
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> Trudi: I already told you, Jenny, the body lotion I’d used caused a bit of a skin reaction, and I went yellow rather than… ah, yes, the Golden Globes awards ceremony. Yes.
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> Kerry: Er, Sarah, are you entirely convinced that we can actually battle an enraged Dark Thugos on our own? Or that the battle would be in any way funny?
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> Sarah, determinedly twirling round like Wonder Woman to become the Probability Dancer: There are ways, Kes. Ways and means.
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> [The wall of Blackballs crashes in as bits of it get dimensionally transferred – or possibly digested – by the Manga Shoggoth]
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> Hatman: Lair Legion, Line Up! Hold it, Thugos, you’re gone too far. You’re going down!
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> Visionary: But not on my little sister! Back off, before I use this safe sex pamphlet!
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> Sarah: See? Vizh is here. Comedy gold.
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> Dark Thugos: You mortal fools! You seek to battle me here? Now? Have you no idea what number next issue is?
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> CrazySugarFreakBoy!, glancing down to the bottom of the page: Issue 50? But… that means…
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> Dark Thugos, laughing evilly: Yes! Either the series is cancelled or somebody will die! Bwa-hah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hah-ha!!!!!!
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> [To be continued… in issue 50!!!!!!!!!!]
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