Previous Post [The Scene: Dancer ducks] BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!! Cinderbelle, a Christmas fairy who’s chasing through the dreams of the Lair Legion and their friends trying to find her accidental husband Zebulon and retrieve her fairy dust (see previous chapters): Aaagh! What was that? I think my eyebrows are on fire. Dancer, emerging from behind cover: That was my little sister Kerry. We’re in her dreams. Cinderbelle: She just dreamed that the Eastern hemisphere of the United States of America exploded in a meteor strike! Dancer: Well, she has to have quiet, peaceful dreams sometime. Come this way. Watch out for the bubbling gooey masses of burning human flesh. Cinderbelle, picking her way round the pupils of the Hogan Academy: You’re related to this dreamer? And you admit it? Dancer: This isn’t the worst thing about her. She also borrows your make-up and jewellery without asking. And there was also that time she sabotaged my underwear to fall off when I was on a date with Bradley Coulson at the F.A. Cup Final at Anfield. At least I blamed Kerry. Cinderbelle, approaching the smouldered door of a Parodiopolis apartment: She’s in there? Is she killing someone? I hear screaming. Dancer: I think she’s visiting her boyfriend Danny. This is his place. The screaming could be anything from sex to a debate about what movie to watch next. Cinderbelle: This is so going on my naughty and nice list. [checks PDA] Wow. The system crashes when I try to access your sister’s file. Dancer: That could be Hacker Nine. I think he was trying to break into Santa’s present list last Christmas. Cinderbelle: No… it looks like the file size of the naughty list is around nine hundred and thirty gigabytes. Dancer heads into Danny’s dream apartment: You know, if I was dreaming this there’d be less pizza boxes strewn across the floor. And bigger shoe closets. Kerry, noticing her big sister has appeared in her dream: Aagh! What the hell are you doing here. Get off me, Danny. It’s another family-guilt-trip visit. Did mother send you? She usually sends Vizh. Dancer: I know. Annoying, isn’t it? But better than sending Karl. Vizh tends not to get into fights with the furniture. Kerry: Well, only the kitchen appliances. Danny: Hey, Dancer. I wasn’t doing anything to Kerry. We were just… practising for a play. Dancer: You’re doing Emmanuelle the Musical? Cinderbelle, venturing in and shielding her eyes: Um, excuse me. I know you were… preoccupied… but you didn’t happen to see a little fellow did you? Danny, uncomfortable: It’s cold in here. And there was a meteor strike. Dancer: We’re looking for Zebulon. And some fairy dust. That’s not a euphemism. Danny: …….. Kerry: Zebulon? Zebulon the Elf? That elf that shot Dweebionary that one time, but didn’t ask to borrow my rocket launcher? Cinderbelle: Now he’s shooting mortals? I thought he was bad enough when he was vilely being dragged under party trestles by clearly reindeer-peed-up helpless young fey girls, the swine. Dancer: To be fair, shooting Visionary is kind of a special case. Kerry: Almost a tradition. How many hearts has he gone through now? Danny: He’s not here. No way were we playing hide the elf. Dancer: ……… Kerry: What’s Zebulon done now? [perks up] He’s not finished that hyper-accelerant variant of napalm plus that we discussed as my Christmas present has he? Because if so there was no way I had anything to do with it being sprayed through Herbert Garrick’s letterbox. Cinderbelle: He’s run off with something that belongs to me. [catches their glances] My bag of magic dust, I mean. Honestly, the quality of these dreams is going right into the gutter. Danny: We weren’t thinking anything bad. Cinderbelle: And your supervillain name is Denial, right? [checks naughty list] Danny: That’s not my naughty list. Dancer, spotting something: Kerry! Is that my underwear? Are you dreaming that you borrowed my underwear without asking?? Kerry, gesturing to the table lamp: Take it then. It’s not like it stays on properly anyway. Cinderbelle: I’m guessing this isn’t where Zeb is hiding. Unless he’s even more perverted than that thing with the chocolate log suggested. [The walls of Danny’s apartment crash down as a black and a white racing car burn through on a desperate struggle for penile supremacy] Danny: What was that? Oh, and my wall isn’t all busted up. Dancer: Oh, we got a ride here. I think our last dream is following us. [Donar smashes a Gjarlentrjoll through the kitchen] Dancer: And maybe the one before that. Kerry: Hey, trolls hate fire, right? Yay! Cinderbelle: I think we’d better go, before there’s another big bang. Dancer, eyeing Danny and Kerry: I think that’s a good idea. Let’s be continued. To be continued… please?? Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2007 reserved by Sarah Shepherdson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2007 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.

Another rip-roaring chapter, including some continuity to boot. Looking forward to more.