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This message Dancer/Donar Souvenir Wedding Edition #18-ish, now with added wedding
cake – the massive, senses-shattering conclusion!!! was posted by
Dancer on Tuesday, February 4, 2003 at 13:39.
[Last issue: In a cheating weaselly move to
avoid finishing the story, Donar had Visioneery do some narration stuff and
passed the problem on to Dancer. Unlike #16, where Dancer, um, never mind.
ANYway, it’s the Big Day, when Dancer is going to marry the guy she thinks is
Bubba to save him from what she thinks is some horrible curse. Or course, WE
know that Bubba isn’t Bubba, he’s time-travelling villain and habitual pink sock
wearer Wang the Conqueror, plotting to get at Dancer’s probability powers to
conquer the universe. Or something. I don’t think the plot was ever too clear on
that. So we’re at the Parodiopolis Cathedral anyhow, and the guests are filing
in. Hey, even the Omnimayor’s come. Let’s listen in…]
spiffy: No, no I’m
fine. I just need to reposition my cushion a bit. These pews are really hard.
[*Nasty wicked reference to a previous chapter* :-)]
Hot-looking teenage
girl in next seat: Ah. Right.
spiffy: I’m acting Mayor you know.
Hot-looking etc.: Really?
spiffy: Yep. And it’s my alternate
reality version from a dimension where I’m actually cool and sexy that Dancer’s
marrying today.
Hot-looking etc.: *backs away*
spiffy: No
really. I can prove it.
Hot-looking etc.: Really. How? By being not cool
and unsexy?
spiffy, sensing crashdive: Er…
Hot-looking etc:
*laughs* For an acting Mayor you sure don’t get out much, do you? *takes pity on
him* So, were you working up the nerve to ask for a dance at the reception or
what?
spiffy: Er… yes. Yes. Dance. Reception. Yes. Dance. Yes…. Yes.
Hot-looking etc.: Great. *pause* So who were you thinking of asking?
Spiffy, blindsided again: Huh? Well I thought… that is… I mean… er.
G-Eyed: A graduate from the Andy Dean School of Talking to Girls, ladies
and gentlemen. Let’s give him a big hand.
Trickshot: If that’s the best
this bozo kin do then he’ll need a big hand.
Hot-looking etc, grinning
at the spiffster: See you at the reception then, handsome. And if you’ve made
your mind up who you want to dance with then let me know.
Yo, joining
spiffy as Hot-looking teen walks off: Ah, Yo sees that fern-friend spiffy has
already to be meeting Dancer’s little sister Kerry.
spiffy: er…
[Meanwhile, at the doorway, where the groom is waiting…]
ManMan:
…So anyway, I just thought I’d take the time to come and threaten you personally
that if you EVER made Dancer unhappy then I will introduce Knifey to…
Hatman: Hey, Manny, long time no see. Just taking your turn to threaten
the groom?
ManMan: Well, you know. Better safe than sorry.
Messenger: Just hurry up then. There’s a queue forming, you know.
Pseudo-Bubba: I think I’m getting the idea. Believe me, Dancer is very,
very precious to me. [and in a villainous aside] Besides, this whole cathedral
is full of explosives ready to be triggered by my Space Fandom minions on
Damnanblast Orbital Base, rendering every one of you into a billion tiny pieces
and reducing this accursed city to a radioactive crater. Bwah-hah-hah.
Hatty: Sorry, what did you say?
Wang: Just rehearsing my lines.
Everything must be perfect. [aside] Bwah-hah-hah.
[And in the limo
taking the bride to the church]
Nats: Don’t worry Dancer. We’ll get you
there on time, every time.
Dancer: Isn’t that ITC’s delivery motto?
Nats: ….. *sobs* I have to get a new job!
Dancer: Besides, the
bride’s allowed to be late. It’s traditional. So you can stop levitating traffic
out of the way.
Finny: You really don’t have to do this you know,
Dancer. You don’t have to marry Bubba just to save him from being cursed off to
exile in some hell-dimension
Sorceress: Right. You could let him get
exiled to a hell-dimension..
Dancer: Nah. Anyway, it’s no biggie. Like
was haven’t all undergone marriages of convenience ten or twelve times to help
some poor refugee get his green card. Right? Guys?
[Meanwhile, back at
the church…]
Cheryl, on mobile to Lisa: No honestly, everything’s under
control. There was a nasty moment when De Brown Streak tried to kiss the
bridesmaids, but the bleeding’s stopped now. We’ve banned dull thud from
going near the music centre and vetoed Chronic playing the wedding march and
mopped up the Manga Shoggoth after the spiked punch incident and defused Enty’s
gift and punched air holes into Yo’s present and borrowed a big tutu to cover up
Space Ghost and all the usual wedding stuff. Even the caterers have arrived.
[And in the kitchens…]
CSFB!: The wedding planners! It’s Chef
Bucher-dee and the Caterers of Crime! Avengers Assemble!
[And back with
Cheryl…]
Cheryl: And Vizh is checking with the Lair Mansion right now to
see that everything’s under control.
Visionary: What’s that again,
Donar? Your signal is breaking up?
Donar: I said watch out for… zzzackle
snark squeeeee… or else.
Visionary: Um, okay. I will. Over.
Wang: I have a question? Where is my bride. It’s now one minute to noon
and she still isn’t here.
Exile: Pre wedding nerves?
Valeria: At
least he is having a wedding.
Wang: Or course I’m having pre-wedding
nerves. You would be too if you had three million tons of meta-temporal-dynamite
on a timed fuse under your feet that was due to go off in… I mean, yes. Nerves.
Where is she?
Ziles: Well, you know it’s the bride’s prerogative to keep
the groom waiting. On this planet anyway. On my homeworld the whole thing’s
usually done by e-mail.
Trickshot: Or pregnancy gun.
Ziles,
hammering the archer to the wall: We don’t EVER mention the Pregnancy Gun, EVER.
Is that CLEAR?
Wang: That’s right. Besides, it was a brilliant scheme
utterly messed up by those stupid kids and their damn dog. Um, I mean, where’s
Dancer. And is that clock fast? Please?
ManMan: You think Dancer being
late’s a problem. Have you met her mother yet?
Hatman: Relax, here comes
the bride now. In, er, in a flowing full length white tent-effect gown with full
face veil over, um, over two prominent horns. Unusual choice of wedding dress.
Ziles: It didn’t look quite like that in the fitting room.
Wang:
Never mind that! To the altar, fast! I mean, this way my darling. My heart
cannot wait any longer to be joined forever in twain with thine. In the next
thirty seconds, preferably.
Space Fandom disguised as Bishop: Dearly
beloved, we are gathered…
Wang! Imbecile. The fast version. Or die.
Space Fandom: Ah, right. Do you both?
Groom: Yes, absolutely. In
a minute. Well, in twenty-one seconds to be very precise.
Bride: No.
Groom: What?
The Right Reverend Space Fandom: What?
Assembled congregation: What?
Dancer, Nats, Finny, and co
arriving at the door of the church to find that the wedding has begun without
them: What?
Wang: Bah! A genius archvillain always has a back-up plan.
So without more ado, let me introduce my surprise guest villain, Holy Wedlock!
Librarian: An old Dancer adversary who has to power to force people to
get married. It’s all in the Dancer’s Diner website.
AG: How did we ever
get by without him to do the useful footnotes?
Holy Wedlock: I now
pronounce you Villain and Wife!
Wang: Wang to Damnandblast Base!
Teleport beam for two. The explosives are going off… NOW!
Bride: Bah! No
mortal teleport ray may grabbeth the Oldmanson whilst he art braced for it! And
now shalt Mjalcolm suspend yon explosive timebomb with a Jurgens-style
previously-unchronicled timespace power. Or say rather a quaint old early
lee/Kirby ability, for that art more to mine godly taste.
Nats: The
bride! Under the veil! It’s… Donar!
The congregation: He is such a
neo-spiffy.
spiffy: The groom! It’s Kink the Conqueror! Lair Legion Line
Up!
The congregation: He is such a proto-Nats.
Kerry
Shepherdson: But he looks quite good in a tux.
Holy Wedlock: Ack! I have
used my powers to wed two men! Bible-belt feedback slamming into me…! Too… far..
from… California to maintain… the… power…
Dancer: Allow me to punch you
out and save you from your misery. [*helpfully does this*]
Wang: Donar?
Dancer’s secret identity is.. Donar?
Ziles: I think it’s fair to say
that none of us had seen that coming.
CSFB!: It sure beats Billy
Batson’s SHAZAM trick.
Donar: Aye, I art the hemigod of thunder, and
thou hast attempted to misuse a sweet and relatively innocent girl…
Visionary: You have seen her Spark test results, haven’t you?
Donar: A sweet and, erm, sweet girl, for thy foul and horrid plotteths.
Chronic: This sucks. The big Ausgardian guy gets all the good parts and
I just sit in the background with nothing to do. Hey, wait, I know! *Smashes
Steve over back of Space Fandom’s head* Now I feel better.
Wang: Fools!
Do you not know that I have brought Damnanblast Base, my time-spanning
futuristic weapons fortress, to hover over your feeble city?!? One word from me
and it will devastate you all!!
Dancer, dancing: Hey, Wangie! You forgot
something. When the Probability Dancer gets married, she invites the WHOLE
family!
Librarian: Many people forget that the Probability Dancer gained
her powers by becoming the herald of Galactivac, the Living Death that Sucks.
Xander the Improbable: But not me. It’s all filed away in my People Who
Owe Me Favours List. Heh.
Galactivac, sitting in the region of space
where Damnandblast Base was up to just now: *burp*
Donar: And now, Wang,
thou foulest maiden-deluding, world-threatening, sucky-plotting, round
robin-ruining Bubba impersonator!… Let the smiting.begin!!!
Valeria, tearfully: Oh, what a beautiful ceremony.
[And
afterwards:]
Dancer: Tuck in, everybody. No point in wasting a perfectly
good wedding buffet, is there?
Finny: Mmmm. Fettuccini.
spiffy, anxiously: So, the dancing’s not cancelled? *swallows hard
and blushes*
Librarian: But that’s for another story.
G-Eyed: Is
he going to keep doing that?
Pegasus: You’d prefer Visioneery doing it?
Dark Knight: *lurks in shadows munching wedding cake*
Donar: I
trust thou art not too disappointed that thine husband-to-be turned out to be a
pathetic slime with no morals that woulds’t betray thee at the slightest chance?
Dancer: Sounds like most of the guys I date. Anyway, thanx for helping
out by leaping in and taking the ceremony for me, big guy.
Donar: This
the least I coulds’t do for a friend and boon companion, Dancer. Besides, hads’t
things got too desperate, I had yon Troia concealed neath mine skirts.
Sorceress: Wow. And speaking of Troia, where is she now?
Donar,
still in his wedding dress: *smiles happily*
Lisa: Well, I guess this is
the ending. *Waits for Visionary to get a mouthful of wine* Except for
Visionary’s speech, of course.
[And everyone turned expectantly and
looked at Vizh…]
This poster posed from 62.252.224.7 when they
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- Dancer - 13:39 on February 4, 2003
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