Posted by Dancer (via the HH internet intermediary service, for which a small charge will soon be introduced) on May 11, 2001 at 05:10:14:
Dancer/Donar Special Edition #9
Mr Papadapopolis: Sarah, you seem somewhat different today. Sarah: Really? Well I have a new hairband. Mr P: Perhaps that is it. Or maybe that flowers are growing wherever you walk, yes? Sarah: Oh, that. Yes, sorry Mr P. I’ll mow the carpet before I go home. Mr P: Is unusual to see happen, Sarah. Sarah: Oh, you know these, uh, these new perfumes. What will they come up with next? Oh, they want me on table nine,. Bye! First customer on table 9: Ah, Probability Dancer. We need to speak with you. Sarah: I’ve got your usual right here Mr Burch. Not often we see you in at this time of day. Customer: I am not Greg Burch, although I can see why you might make that mistake. I am the Chronicler of Stories. This is my colleague the Shaper of Worlds. Shaper: Hello. Sarah: Nice to see you two again, and, er, thanks for stopping time in the Diner while we chatted… I guess. Some of us still try to keep up the secret identity bit. Shaper of Worlds: We need privacy for our discussion, Dancer. To be blunt, we’ve had a complaint. Sarah: Wow. I knew the Mayor had introduced and enforced tough new public hygiene regulations but this is… Chronicler: Not about the diner. About you. Sarah: Me? Shaper: Yes. It seems that you have been goddessing without a license *points to trail of flowers across diner floor* Dancer: Oh, that. It’s just temporary, don’t worry. You see Oldman and Gail gave me this potion to make me un-mortal to save me from the Wilde Huntesman. It’s only a matter of time before it wears off. Already I can’t make it rain blood. Chronicler: That’s not the point. Normally we might overlook an infraction given the circumstances, but since we have received a formal objection we do have to act upon it. Dancer: Who would make such a complaint? Shaper, checking form: The signature says Magenta St Evil. Dancer: What a cow. Well I’m really sorry to be an unlicensed goddess, but it’s my first offence and I promise not to do it again. Chronicler: Unfortunately this complain doesn’t primarily go before us. We just have to investigate and find out if the complaint is valid, which technically it is. Judgement is made in these cases by the third member of the Triumverate. Dancer: Samhain, the Destoryer of Tales? Eeep. Shaper: Not Samhain. That was the former Destroyer. We’ve had a few in rapid succession recently, but the new one seems here to stay and he’s decided to keep the name he had back when he was mortal. You have to appear before him to plead your case, and then he’ll decide whether to erase you from existence. Dancer: Ooops. So who is this new gal or guy? Anyone I know? Chronicler: In mortal life he was known as Dark Thugos. Dancer, dropping coffee pot: Dang. I’ll have to pay for that. Er, silly me, I misheard you as saying it was Dark Thugos. Shaper: That’s right, the former Tyrant of the Sol Empire. Dancer, looking round for another coffee pot to drop: Eeek. This is bad. This is very bad. I mean, really, very bad. Bad. Chronicler: Yes. We’re going to have to transport you to his new domain right now, along with some relevant witnesses… Donar, Lisa, Visionary, the Wilde Huntesman himself… Dancer: Wait a minute. Donar’s still in traction from his last battle. He’s in a flaming wheelchair. Well, a sort of goat-pulled battle wheelchair. And Visionary had absolutely nothing to do with it! Shaper: Maybe not, but it’s always fun to send him on this sort of thing. Chronicler: Farewell, Dancer. Dancer: Wait. What about… [but she is gone, transported to the Halls of Dark Thugos to face the judgement of Death’s Suitor] To be continued…
[The scene: Once again mild-mannered waitress Sarah Shepherdson is waiting tables at the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar. But she seems somewhat different today…]