63.77.180.167 writes:

[The scene: Dancer is in the Wookiegetlucky Swamp with Zemo and Con Johnstantine looking for the Bog Thing who can send Zemo and Dancer to the Nexus of Unreality so Dancer can make Zemo’s wife never have been shot and frozen.]

Con Johnstantine (a smirking, chain-smoking, arrogant Englishman who’s incredibly sexy if you like the wrong sort of men): Well, well, you’ve come a long way from those Tantric dance lessons, Shep.

Dancer: I think you are mistaking me for somebody who doesn’t want to see you dead in a ditch, Mr Johnstantine.

Johnstantine: Not still sore about me dumping you in that Purdah Camp in Bangladesh are you, Sheppy? I told you, business came up. I was only thinkin’ of you, darlin’.

Dancer: Sore???!!! I was mortified! Literally!!

Johnstantine: Well, if you’re going to hold a grudge…

Dancer: A grudge? Why would you think that? [Johnstantine misses his step and trips into the swamp. Johnstantine rises from the mire having found a lost wallet stuffed with banknotes]

Johnstantine: Fancy me finding that down there? Luck must be on my side, eh, Shep?

Dancer: ……….

Baron Zemo: Vill you two stop mit the flirting und concentrate on finding this Bog Thing?

Johnstantine: Stop it? Just when Miss Niceness is becoming interesting? [Spots Zemo’s hand twitching near his death ray] Um, of course squire. Just toodle this way.

Zemo: I am not a Squire. I am the twelfth Baron Zemo of Saxe-Lurkburg, und der future ruler of all mankind.

Johnstantine: Oh. And here I was treating you like just an ordinary loony with a purple stripy bag over his head.

Zemo: Vell in future you vill treat me like a loony of noble blood mit a glorious destiny… err, vait…

Dancer: Well, what were the chances of a creature of sewage bubbling up from the swamp at just this moment?

The Bog-Thing [for it is he]: Who… summons… the… Bog……… Thing……………….?

Johnstantine: It’s me, old son. Y’know, the guy who’s always pulling your chain.

[Dancer has a fit of the giggles] Dancer: You said chain to the Bog-Thing

Zemo: I do not understand. Vat is so funny mit the chain reference?

Johnstantine: Left your sense of humour in your other stripy purple hood? A bog is a colloquial expression for a lavatory in England.

Bog-Thing: It…. is……..? I…. have…. got… to… get…. a… better… PR… agent….

Johnstantine: Well, this one isn’t exactly flushed with success, I admit.

[Dancer giggles some more and pokes Johnstantine] Dancer: Stop it. Don’t be rude.

Zemo: Yes. If ve do not have the assistance of the Bog-Thing our chances of reaching the Nexus go down the pan. What? What is so funny? Why are you rolling on the floor?

Bog-Thing: Whoever… knows… mirth… tickles… at the… Bog-Thing’s…. touch….!

Zemo: I thought that was hate. Whoever knows hate tickles at the Bog Thing’s touch.

Johnstantine: Hate, mirth, hell if you know Ellen Degeneres the Bog Thing’ll react to you.

Bog-Thing: Yes. Whoever… knows… hate… mirth… or… Ellen… tickles… at the… Bog-Thing’s…. touch….!

Dancer: But don’t you see it’s just a bit funny, Mr Bog-Thing? I mean. I know it’s lavatory humour, but…

Bog-Thing: Lavatory… humour…?

Johnstantine: *snort* Good one!

Zemo: Stop it! All of you! Humour is very subjective! Just look at Space Ghost’s stories! You vill not make this Bog-Thing laugh, und he vill not help us.

Dancer: Oh, there’s a chance he’ll find it funny.

Bog-Thing: Lavatory…. Ha… humour… Ho… ho… snort…. Chort… le…

[As Bog-Thing’s powers affect himself he becomes a living portal to the Nexus of Unrealities. You didn’t think we were doing this sick unfunny puns stuff for nothing, did you?]

Dancer: Zemo! Jump!

Johnstantine: I’ll give you a call then, Shep.

Dancer: Don’t bother, Johnstantine you slime. You’ll find I’m busy. Until next Saturday.

[Dancer and Zemo jump through the Nexus and into the last part of the story]


Dancer