Subj: Well, if she gets those Christmas ornaments then Zeb and Epitome will have something to talk about :)Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2007 at 09:18:50 am EST (Viewed 450 times)
| Reply Subj: The Princess and the Great North Star:"You can’t buy education like that. Well, you can, but only in plain brown wrappers."
Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2007 at 08:51:22 am EST |
>  [The Story So Far: Abandoned Christmas fairy Cinderbelle seeks her deadbeat sudden-husband Zebulon the Elf through the dreams of the Lair Legion and their friends, with the help of native guide Dancer. Oh sure, Zeb might have all kinds of noble purposes, but we won’t know that until Vizh gets on with his part of the story. At our end there’s a fairy with a grudge and a fair-sized hangover and a missing pouch of dream-travelling pixie dust.]
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> [The Scene: Manga-eyed girls with tutus and very large swords are skating over a custard lake beneath which a loathsome elder creature sings showtunes. Dancer and Cinderbelle are tiptoeing quietly away]
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> Cinderbelle: I don’t think I want my bag of magic dust back that badly. I’d prefer to be demoted to Naughty Coal Packer (Junior Assistant Grade) Dwarven Support Division. *shudder*
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> Dancer: Don’t give up, Cindy. It’s just a matter of pressing on.
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> Cinderbelle: Flapjack already tried that, before he had that unfortunate tumble-dryer experience. And that wasn’t the worst of our travels through your friends’ dreams. That one where we were all three inches high being chased through the long grass…
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> Dancer: It’s a cat. What sort of dreams were you expecting? Besides, ManMan kind of seemed to enjoy being tossed up in the air and batted round the garden.
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> Cinderbelle: And that one where we were all at some sort of interminable ceremonial function with that rabid mob of creatures trying to devour us?
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> Dancer: I guess the Wooster twins dreams don’t have to worry about the writers strike at the Emmies.
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> Cinderbelle: And the one where we just had to watch Hatman chopping wood for six hours with his shirt off?
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> Dancer: Well, that could have been a whole lot of people’s dreams.
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> Cinderbelle: And that ridiculous anxiety dream with that strange open-topped car being stopped by security guards and the occupant being detained for electrode questioning?
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> Dancer: Er, I think that was Vizh’s memory. In fairness, the trunk of his Pinto of Doom did have two hundred pounds of grade-A fissionable material in it. I think that was a surprise engine upgrade from Al B., but there’s always the possibility it was just Kerry pursuing her hobbies again.
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> Cinderbelle: And the one with the wild flashing colours and the little creatures dancing round us singing the Tigger Song while the electric muffins built a mile-high tower out of gorgonzola cheese?
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> Dancer: That one was a bit of a surprise. I’d have expected the Librarian’s dreams to have a lot more filing in them. It just goes to show.
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> Cinderbelle, blushing: And the one with… the kool whip?
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> Dancer: Whoah, yeah. I wish I’d had a notebook with me. You can’t buy education like that. Well, you can, but only in plain brown wrappers.
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> Cinderbelle: You have some seriously disturbed friends, Dancer. *glances back at tentacles coming out of custard lake towards manga girls*
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> Dancer: Ah, don’t worry. The worst thing the Shoggoth will to do them is some origami folding.
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> Cinderbelle: He’s going to fold origami paper of them? Or make them do it?
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> Dancer, moving quickly on: Um, maybe. Or fold them as origami.
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> Cinderbelle: And this makes your case for me not worrying how?
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> Dancer: Hey, it wasn’t all bad. Okay, the Mumph and Hatty ones got a bit intense but the one where we went walking with Glory and all her friends was pretty nice. And Hallie’s art gallery. And Amber’s perfumed garden, once you wipe all the Freudian stuff off your trainers.
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> Cinderbelle: Yeah, possibly.
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> Dancer: Also we got to see what a Detonator Hippo dreams about.
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> Cinderbelle, wincing: It’s a wonder I have any eyebrows left.
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> Dancer: We got of lucky. Fortunately Detonator Hippos don’t dream about blowing up the surprisingly large stacks of alcohol that fill all their dreams. [*surrupticiously checks hip flask*]
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> Cinderbelle: Don’t think I didn’t see you slipping some of that into the pot at Marie’s tea party?
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> Dancer: But it was so staid and proper and Victorian. People really cheered up when the dormouse got his head stuck in the spout afterwards.
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> Cinderbelle: But then the white rabbit was sick on ManMan.
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> Dancer: See? A real party.
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> Cinderbelle: And that dream with the other rabbit dressed in a Zorro outfit leading the three mice with rapiers?
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> Dancer: It’s nice that Rabito’s getting on with the mouse guard. [Dancer and Cindy have come to the hazy edge of the dream they’re walking through, and they’re peering out into the clouds waiting for another one to drift along.] I guess we really need to find your husband though. We’re running out of fairy dust and we’re stretching the running joke a bit far.
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> Cinderbelle: He’s not my husband, except in the legal sense under the broom-jumping protocols of the Year of the Incontinent Nixie. And maybe in the physical sense, since I don’t think I buttoned my tutu up like that. But when I catch him I certainly plan to be a widow.
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> Dancer: You’re not really going to hurt him, are you? I mean, Zeb can get a bit… enthusiastic about stuff, but he’s really harmless. Unless you let him near a particle accelerator.
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> Cinderbelle: Well, I might not totally kill him, but I’m certainly going to get a pair of shiny new balls to decorate my Christmas tree.
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> Dancer: Ouch. Um, do you actually have to sit on top of those trees? Because as marital aids go…
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> Cinderbelle, quickly moving on: I don’t think this quest is working. We’ve been through nearly all the Lair Legion and their friends and we still haven’t found that no-good one-timing orcbait soon-to-be-eunuch Zebulon.
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> Dancer: Don’t worry. The laws of comic narrative would naturally demand us to go through everyone else’s dreams before we find what we’re looking for. Otherwise there’d be no multi-part quests ever. Now we’ve pretty much done everybody…
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> Cinderbelle shudders: Sorry. Lisa’s dream flashback.
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> Dancer: Now we can hop back into Vizh’s dream and see if that gets us where we need to be.
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> Cinderbelle: Assuming he has higher brain functions. You hear rumours.
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> Dancer: Oh, that’s just a competition that Fleabot and Flapjack have going. Well, mostly. Anyway, jump aboard, because I think that’s how we’ll find my nephew and niece, Magweed and Griffin, and from there…
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> Cinderbelle: Yes, I see the trail now. I’d recognise that stolen pixie dust anywhere.
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> Dancer: And also this discarded gossamer handkerchief?
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> Cinderbelle, grabbing the object, blushing furiously, and stuffing it into her purse: Yes, a gossamer handkerchief. That is what it is. Nothing else. A hanky. Absolutely.
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> Dancer: Although it was a strange shape for a hanky, with those ties at the sides…
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> Cinderbelle: No time for discussion now. We’re on the trail. Hurry. Although if you happen to see another gossamer handkerchief in a sort of a bra shape you might let me know.
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> Dancer: Hey, what’s the red light over there, shining in the snow?
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> Cinderbelle: Rudolph? But… how can we be back home? I don’t have my dust! Oh, I am so busted! I’m on feeding-the-gnomes duty for a millenia. I’ll be polishing the nasty children’s coal in the goblin mines. I might get frannchised to Toys-R-Us. [*bites her bottom lip*] Superviser Tinkernuts is going to feed me to the Sugar Plum Fairy!
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> Dancer: Or we could just head into this barn and say hi to Mags and Griff and Zeb? Hi Mags. Hi Griff. Hi Zeb.
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> Zebulon: Oh, hey Dancer, what are you… er, is that Cinderbelle Appleblossom there with you? [*stuffs gossamer object more firmly into his pocket*] Cindy, I can explain everything. Somehow. Eventually. Possibly.
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> Cinderbelle, leaping forward: Die!
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> Rudolph: Fight! Fight! Fight!
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> Griffin: Wow, it’s getting exciting. I bet this is where it’s to be continued.
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> Magweed: Darn.
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> To be continued
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> 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. |
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