Dancer #26: My Fiancée Is a Knife-Wielding Elvis Fetishist


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Posted by Even though only 6 people read her last story, Dancer bravely brushes aside the tears and carries on with part two like the trouper she is on April 21, 2001 at 13:26:07:

Dancer #26: My Fiancée Is a Knife-Wielding Elvis Fetishist

[Last time, the wicked Magenta St Evil was planning to transform the Parodyverse into a grim, gritty post-apocalyptic nightmare. To keep Dancer out of the way (since Dancer’s probability-altering powers could possibly thwart this) she has arranged for Dancer to get a visit from her mum, Old Mother Shepherdson. Things went downhill from there.

The Scene: ManMan’s flat, where Old Mother Shepherdson sniffs disapprovingly at the décor while Sarah rings the bell.]

Sarah Shepherdson: Oh, he’s out. Let’s go.

ManMan (answering door): Hello?

Sarah: Darling! [flings herself into his arms and kisses him]

Knifey: She’s obviously got the wrong house.

ManMan: Er…

Knifey: Or lost her guide dog.

ManMan: Excuse me, but aren’t you the waitress from the Coffee Bar?

Sarah: He’s got a great sense of humour, mother. Honestly. Come in, sit down. I’ll take Joe into the kitchen and we’ll make you some coffee.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Tea. Black. Eight sugars.

Sarah, dragging Manny into the kitchen: Listen, I know this is weird but you’ve got to help me. I need you to… Eeew! You eat in here?

ManMan: Sure. The decaying socks kill off the predators. Look, what’s going on? Not that I mind a hot waitress babe suddenly hammering on my door and snogging me but bringing your mom along is just plain weird.

Sarah: I’m sorry Joe. I’m in trouble…

ManMan: It wasn’t me. I’ll take a blood test.

Knifey: Yep. Very little chance of it ever being Joe.

Sarah: Not that kind of trouble, Manny. And you do know me. Perhaps if I did my hair like… this?

ManMan: Dancer! You’re Sarah the waitress? How the heck didn’t I see that before?

Dancer: Hello? Probability manipulation powers? Now listen, I just need you to pretend to be Sarah’s fiancée for a few hours.

ManMan: You what??

Knifey: Didn’t I see this plot on the Simsons?

Sarah and ManMan: Shut up, Knifey!

Old Mother Shepherdson: Is my tea ready yet, only my throat is very dry from the stench of unwashed leather garments in here.

Sarah: Manny, pleeeeease. I’d call on Vizh but Cheryl would kill me, or on Nats except he lives at the Lair Mansion which is kind of a giveaway, or on Trickshot except mother would shoot him dead on sight or on spiffy except, well, he’s got a fern. And mother would kill me. You’re my last resort. I’m desperate here.

ManMan: Gee, well when you put it like that…

Sarah: C’mon, it’s just a few hours and afterwards I’ll…

ManMan: Yes?

Sarah: I’ll clean up your kitchen for you, okay?

Knifey: Hey, it’s the best offer from a woman he’s had this millennium.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Ah, there you are, you two lovebirds. Sit down next to me here Joe, and let’s discuss the wedding.

Sarah, grabbing Manny to stop him fleeing out of the door: We’re still saving up, mom.

Old Mother Shepherdson: What, you think your old mother is going back to Ireland and missing her only daughter walking down the aisle? I think not. We’ll just have to get it arranged as soon as possible.

ManMan: What?

Old Mother Shepherdson: What are you doing tomorrow, young man?

ManMan: Urk!

[Two hours later, after a long discussion on Joe’s bank accounts and prospects and the ritual display of embarrassing pictures of Sarah when she was three…]

ManMan: Sarah… darling… could I see you in the kitchen for a minute?

Sarah: Excuse me a moment, mother. I think Joe needs some help getting the top off a jar.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Just so as that’s the only top he’s getting off.

ManMan, walking into kitchen: Dancer, this has got to stop! She’s planning the flowers! She’s organising the music!

Sarah: I know! It’s all getting kind of out of hand.

Knifey: Can’t you use your probability powers to sort it all out like you usually do, Dancer?

Sarah: Against my own mum? No… no I can’t. I’m sorry.

ManMan: Well if you won’t tell her the truth, I will. Mrs Shepherdson, there’s something we need to… Oh, hello Aunt April. I didn’t hear you come in.

Aunt April: Mrs Shepherdson let me in, dear. Oh, Joe! Why didn’t you tell me the wonderful news?

ManMan: Urk!

Sarah, hisses: Manny, you were going to tell them the truth.

Aunt April: It does my feeble old heart good to know that you’re going to settle down at last, Joe. And Mrs Shepherdson tells me the wedding is tomorrow.

Sarah and Manny: Ack!

[Meanwhile, back with the archvillainess, at the doorway of the Lair Mansion]

Goldeneyed: Can I help you madam? I’m sorry about the stunners, but… Hey, who pulped our stunners?

Magenta St Evil: *fires huge Liefieldinsing ray at G-Eyed* There. That’s better.

Goldynwrath: Kill! Maim! Anal rape!

Magenta St Evil: There, that’s better. Now to take to your teammates.

To be concluded in Dancer #27 – Dancing at the Wedding – the Marriage of ManMan and Dancer

It’ll be out tomorrow if anyone replies to my story this time :-(



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