Abirella A.K.A The Aies Christmas Special

[ArtificialIdiot]

Hello.

Here's a little experiment I thought I'd try for Christmas, ever wondered what would happen if all the characters you've created over the years collided? Ever been to a pantomime? Ever wondered what would happen if your wonderful works of fiction decided to put on their own?

No, didn't think so. But I did, and here you have the results. They're not going to be for everyone, naturally, if you've never been to a British/Australian style pantomime or kept up to speed with at least some of my works, you're probably not going to get all the jokes. In fact, I'd be greatly surprised if any single person understand everything - I apologise for that, but it comes with the territory. :)

Still, it's all a bit of fun, so let the usher guide you to your seat, relax, please do not steal your neighbours confectionary (unless they're not looking!) and enjoy. ^^

* * *

The lights begin to dim as the general discontent of getting everyone seated and settled begins to fade to make way for the rousing instrumental, that leaps into a life of it's own in the quiet of the theatre. The grating sound of a discordant electronic keyboard and glockenspiel, playing tunes not unfamiliar to an ice cream van, slowly draining the audiences will to live. Eventually it dies completely alongside the lights, as a new set illuminates the red velvet curtains of the stage. These slowly rise, a single spotlight now shining down on a lone, rather effeminate, figure. Pale of skin, with green, shoulder length hair and a pair of aviator sun-glasses that wouldn't look out of place leading the Sisters of Mercy onto the stage, he stood in a plain, dark blue suit with shiny golden buttons on the jacket and a porters cap.

"Hello EVERYONE!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air only to be met with stony silence. "I said... HELL... Oh, nevermind. My name's Buttons, and I'll have you know I was once quite the celebrated stand-up on the Geneva club circuit. In fact, what happened to the beardless Dwarf that went into a tradionalist bar?

... He was struck repeatedly with a large metalworking tool!"

A stray tumble-weed flew across the stage in front of him.

"... Y'know, HAMMERED?!"

Another flies by.

"Oh, frag you all then! A century or so before your time, I suppose." He straightens his jacket, taking a moment to wipe his forehead. "Actually, d'ya think you could turn this spotlight off? It's quite literally killing me, here. Thanks. Now, seeing as you all look like thoroughly mouth-watering, plump specimens of... Humanity... Ahem, whenever you need me just call out Human Meta-Human Vampiric Virus. In fact, let's try that now! After three!"

Buttons steps to the side of the stage, quietly mouthing 'three, two, one' with the appropriate hand gestures... Only to receive no response whatsoever. Agitated, he tries again, to the same effect. Giving up he tramps back on stage.

"Maybe I should've picked a simpler phrase." He grumbles. "Well, if you're going to be so uncooperative, let's see what my good friend Cinders is up too."

The rest of the stage is finally lit up to reveal a slender, red-haired, freckled young girl dressed in rags on her knees in front of a scrubbing board and metal basin. In the background there's an MDF stove. She was busy washing an oversized pair of comedy bloomers when a great bellowing exclamation came from the back of the stage.

"CINDERELLA!!!"

She jolted, tilting her head to the side as two figures descended onto the stage via a small staircase. The first was a minuscule grey skinned alien, with large bulbous eyes and vibrant electric pink lipstick smeared across her lips. A similar shade of dress, that was several sizes too big for her, hung off her stick thin frame. The second was tall, and tanned to a light brown hue. She sported locks of long blonde hair, complete with a pair of pointed ears that peaked out from within, and deep blue eyes that practically sparkled. All this, however, was offset by enough cosmetics to paint the side of an oil tanker and a dress, much like the other woman's, only this time in a sickly green hue, that was far too big and blocky for her.

"Gruddamnit!" Exclaimed the blonde, kicking over the basin. "Did ah say I wanted mah fraggin' pants hand washed?!"

"Belle! Grey!" Gasped Cinders, scattering to clean up the mess her ugly step sister had made. "But these aren't even yours, they're mom's..."

"So where the fraggin' hell are they, yer good fur nutin' piece of bullrump?!"

"Still at Whiskey-Washey's, I was going to collect them but then mom wanted me to clean the floor, and then I had to wash and dry her..."

"Jovis on a fraggin' rodeo horse, sweetheart! Ya'll know me and you're darlin' stepsister here'll be attending Prince Dashin's ball tonight, tell 'er Grey."

"Well, actually..." Stammered the little alien. "Perhaps... Well, maybe, if we were just civil about this? You know, said... Please? I mean, it's obvious she's had a heavy workload and Whiskey-Washy's is quite the walk..."

"Grud in hell... You. Are pathetic." Moaned Belle, running her hand down her face. "This whole danged prediciment is so fraggin' unfair! I'll have y'all know I was voted Miss Southern Bell four years runnin' when ah was a gal. An' you sonovaslitches're tryin' ta tell me ah'm the ugly one?!"

Buttons casts a knowing glance towards Cinderella.

"Says it all, really." They observe, in perfect union.

"An' if that didn't take the bull's backside, ah get landed with an illegal alien!"

"Um, excuse me, Miss." Interrupted Grey. "But as far as I know, I have never committed a crime in my life..."

"Shut the frag up!" She snapped. "Listen ta me sweetie, you better have that fraggin' laundry here by tonight, and if there's any burn holes in my best dresses this time, y'all better tell that stupid old cow we're never using here again!. And get that stinkin' Meta outta mah house, while y'all at it too!"

She said, pointing at Buttons before wheeling around and storming off the stage. Grey, not quite sure what to do next, stood there sheepishly for a few moments, rubbing one overlong finger down the back of his other hand.

"Well... Ah... I apologise for that outburst. I'll be... Going then." With that he too retreated backstage.

"Oh Buttons..." Sighed Cinders, grabbing hold of a mop and leaning on it mournfully. "I wish, just once, I could go to a ball. I could find myself a tall... Handsome... Black haired prince, and just... Dance the night away!"

She took the mop and spun around with it, lifting the handle off the floor and almost smacking Buttons in the side of the head, had his reflexes not saved him in the nick of time.

"Except you can't quite dance." He said, taking the mop from her and placing it down on the floor.

"You could teach me! I mean, what else don't I have? I'm young. Gorgeous. Stunningly attractive. Fun, fun, fun to the brim..."

"Easy, easy, that much ego stroking is likely to cause something to explode... Just ask my old man."

A short, badum-tish sound effect issues from the keyboard.

"It's just so annoying, y'know? What do those two have that I don't?"

"Mummy's favour, for a start." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure there's somebody out there who'll steal your heart and take you away from this.

"Yeah." She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "And I bet you've stolen loads of young girls hearts."

"Young, old, men, women - It's a messy business, but if you get them out quick enough they're still quite warm and haven't lost a lot of blood. It's all in the wrist, you see."

"Wait..." She suddenly recoiled, jumping to the other side of the stage. "What?!"

"Fragging hell... Did I just say that? Jovis, that's kinda embarrassing. Um, listen, we better head over to Whiskey-Washy's before tall, blonde and racially challenged reappears and gives us a taste of what she dished out to that basin."

"Alright... But you stay in front of me at all times. At all times, you hear me?!"

The stage went black to the sound of props being hastily moved around, and many the muffled curse word as toes were stubbed and elbows knocked. When light was finally cast back onto it, the scene had changed from a bare basic domestic cellar to a vibrant street, filled with poorly dressed cannon fodder and various extras from various role playing games and stories, past and present, that really are nowhere near notable enough to get a mention - Nevermind a starring role. The backdrop was now lined with painted on stores - A pizza slut here, a Wesco Streetmart Express there. The ortsaC miJ ycnegA evitceteD stood atop General Bulldog's Used Cigar Store, whilst Taxdodger's VAT-free dollar store loomed over a vending machine filled with Wolfsi Cola, Nutty Wessers and enough product placement to make even Will Smith's mouth water. Meanwhile, squashed between Cap'n Camel's Navy Surplus store and Zebes' Electronics, was Madame Whiskey-Washy's one-stop laundry and fortune telling services.

"Alright." Sighed Buttons, as he made his way onto the stage with Cinderella. "Let's do this."

He took the dog's head shaped knocker, hammering it down on the door gingerly at first - With appropriate 'tock, tock, tock' sound effects drifting from off-stage. When no response was forthcoming, he knocked again, this time putting his fist through the cheap balsa wood used to construct it.

"Don't know my own strAGGING HELL!" He chocked, a thick grey cloud of smoke issuing from the hole. "Who turned out the gruddamned dry ice?"

"No way does that smell like dry ice to me!" Said Cinderella, now with her shirt over her mouth, having ran over the other side of the stage in the blind of an eye.

"I watched a snail... Crawl along the edge of a straight razor... Crawling... Slithering... Surviving..." Wheezed a voice from within. A stubbled chin appeared at the hole, cigar poking outside the door. "Heh, always wanted to say that. What d'ya want, kid. I'm busy."

"I've here to collect my sisters laundry, do you think you could maybe let us..." Cinders paused to consider for a moment. "Actually, no. Don't let us in. If you could just come out and give them to us, I'm sure I can fumigate them before tonight."

"Listen sweetheart, you know how that was Colonel Kurtz' nightmare?"

"Um... Who's Colonel Kurtz?"

"Don't ask me." Buttons shrugged, "A good century before my time."

"Jesus H Blasco, Apocalypse Now? Overblown, cinematic masterpiece that was practically filmed with the blood of those who worked on it?"

"Not my kind of thing, I'm more of a Titanic girl..."

"Titanic?! I swear, if you weren't dressed like my first date I'd slap you!" Badum-tish! "Why don't you take your Irish Jews and big name pretty boys and stick 'em where the sun don't shine?"

"Sheesh, I only came to get collect my laundry! You're the one who started on movies!"

"Look, it's like I was saying - You know what was the Colonel's worst nightmare? Well coming out there dressed like this is mine. And besides, we got a motto here - No whiskey, no washy. And I ain't seeing either of you two carrying some hard liqueur."

"What! That's not even in the script!"

"Like the past five minutes have been." Observed Buttons, rolling his eyes. "Look, I know you got the blank end of the credstick, but how do you think I feel? I'm dressed like a hotel porter and constantly referred to with male pronouns!"

"Alright, alright! Sheesh, broads... Dress 'em up as men and they still moan for Neo-England."

The door swung open and out he came, Dame Whiskey-Washy. Dressed in a polka-dot monstrosity that looked like a rubber dingy with underskirts, he clamped a cigar between his lips - These adorned with lip stick. His cheeks were painted a rosy red, whilst his eyes ladened heavily with eye-shadow, had not escaped the wrath of the eyelash curler. The only thing left to top it off was the wig of curly blonde locks under his wide-brimmed, cream hat. The whole audience, which so far might as well have been corpses or showroom dummies, burst into great roars of laughter. Behind him, came what must have been a seven foot tall monstrosity in a cow mask and a black and white striped shirt.

"My name's Whiskey-Washy. And this is my cow, Jolly." He stated bluntly. "Happy now?"

"Don't you mean Dolly?" Asked Buttons, eyebrow arched.

"Heh, are you kidding me? I've seen some pretty ugly cows in my time, but no amount of suspension of disbelief is gonna make me even try to believe that that thing is a cow."

"He does have a point, I mean, we could've at least glued some udders to him..." Suggested Cinderella, amidst the general head-shaking of her comrades. "What? It was just an idea... I mean, you could even put him on all fo..."

"I'd just stop there Cinders. Before you dig a hole big enough for all of us."

"Alright, alright!" She sighed. "I never had this problem when I was around other peoples characters."

"You've obviously never been on the DEN." Chalk up another badum-tish for Whiskey-Washy.

"Where did you get it from, anyway? I mean, why would a laundry woman need a cow?" Inquired Buttons.

"Some kid wanted to trade it for some coffee beans, I figured I could kill it in the winter and get a few good steaks out of it."

"Magic coffee beans, surely?"

"Heh..." He paused, drawing on his cigar. "... That's what he thought."

All three of them involuntarily jumped as the burst of trumpets cut across the theatre, from the otherside of the stage marched Buhgan, the Imperial Tax Collector and sometime Royal Herald. He bellowed, at the top of his voice, once the fanfare had died. Introducing the attendant and right hand to the Prince, although which one he didn't say, and advising them to make way for him. Although no advice was needed, many of the extras fled the stage as the princes attendant bound on. Eight feet of blue scales, sharp teeth and claws - He was a monster in gentlemen's clothing.

"Here ye, here ye!" He growled, obviously not used to such archaic language. "I am here to announce that tonight, at seven O'clock this evening, Prince-Captain Charming will be holding a grand ball to find himself a fitting bride."

"A grand ball!" Gasped Cinders, grabbing Buttons by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. "Did you hear that Buttons?! A grand ball!"

"Don't get too excited Miss, you have one too few hands for the Prince-Captain's tas..." The giant lizard blinked rapidly, and started over. "The Prince-Captain is out of your social class."

With that, both himself and Buhgan turned and left, leaving the female extras that had managed to clamour back on with their dignity to chatter incessantly. Cinderella, meanwhile, just slumped to the ground.

"He's right. It's hopeless. Even if I could go, and had something decent to wear..." She pulled on her rags in disgust. "Mother'd never allow me to upstage tweedle-dee and tweedle-disgusting. Just this once, just once Buttons, I wish I could go to the ball!"

"Heh, well, you're the most beautiful broad in this damned production who's actually dressed like a broad..." Put in Whiskey-Washy.

"Aww, you think so?" She replied, physically blushing before she remembered this was supposed to be a sombre moment. "But it's hopeless! Just give me the clothes and we'll go. They should be labelled to Belle and Grey Ugly, and there better not be any burn holes in them, otherwise I'll be up all night."

"Hey, you shouldn't give up yet!" Cheered Buttons, grasping her hands and pulling her upright. "I'm sure if you just asked you're stepmother really nicely, she'd let you go. I mean, no harm in just one, right?"

"Really? You think so?!"

"It's gotta be worth a try!"

"Alright, I'll do it!"

With that last, determined gesture, the lights dim once more. A single spotlight shines on Jolly the cow, as he stands in the middle of the stage holding a hastily scrawled 'A FEW MOMENTS LATER' sign upside down. Around him props are being moved, and occasionally colliding with him. Much to the disgust of the production team, a few of whom can be heard yelling 'Move you grudamned TROGG!' or 'Up stage! Up stage! Move. Up. Stage!' rather clearly even in the private boxes. Such requests fall on death ears, and even when the lights snap back on we still find Jolly stood there. Only now we're back in the stone walled basement we began in, with Cinderella and a frail, thin-faced woman dressed in an elegant, but discreet, black and grey gown. It was actually easier to imagine she was Grey's natural mother than you'd think, what with her almost hollow, unnaturally large eyesockets that had formed after most of her skin had drooped. Although at this instant, the rest of her skin was right across her cheeks with anger - Tinged with red as she readily bellowed.

"No, no, NO! I forbid it!"

"But stepmother!" She pleaded, only to be cut off by a flamboyant sweep of her hand.

"Do you think I'm blind, girl?! Do you think I don't know how wretchedly ugly my own daughters are?! They'll have enough competition without you there!"

"But I don't even want to marry the Prince! I just want to go! Oh, stepmother, please let me go!"

"Now, now Cinderella..." She cooed, coming down from her fit of rage almost in a snap. "You know I love you just as much I loved your father before his tragic and obviously sudden accident that left me the sole inheritor of his vast fortune... I'm sorry, where was I?"

"How much you loved me and how you were only doing my father for the money?"

"Yes, that's exactly... YOU WHAT?!" She grasped hold of her by the hair, pulling her to her knees like a rag doll on a pub crawl. "I never married ANYONE for the money, d'ya hear me?! I loved Herman with all my heart and I'll cut out the tongue of anyone who says otherwise!"

"Jesus! Stop! Stop it! This isn't in the script! I don't know who you're talking about!"

"Oh, don't you?! Don't you?! Then tell me, where's that good for nothing daughter of mine? Did she put you up to this? Hm? Did she?!"

"I duh-don't know what you're talking about! I thought I was your daughter! Just please, let me go!"

"Oh... Oooh... I'm sorry dear. This is a 'pantomime'." She chuckled, emphasising the last word by waggling her fingers. "Yes, well, you can't go cause you'll upstage your sisters. It's as simple as that."

"I... You assaulted me!" She gasped, still sprawled out on the floor.

"Oh, assault is such a strong word my darling. I prefer to call it dramatic over-reaction."

"God... God... Ok! Ok! I won't go to the ball! Just, just get away from me!"

"There we go, I knew you'd understand eventually, maybe next time, hm?" She cooed, bending down to touch her daughters cheek only to find her recoiling and halfway across the stage pressed up against the wall and breathing hard before her hand could touch. "Oh, and do have those gowns ready by tonight. That awful woman Whiskey-Washy does leave a rather repugnant odour on things."

She goes to leave, but pauses on the stairs to backstage to look back.

"Don't look so down, darling - There's always next ball."

"... Psycho witch..." She muttered to herself once her step mother was gone. "What kind of sick, twisted, delusional mind comes up with a monster like that?!"

She settled down on a stool with a sigh, pulling one of the over-sized dresses towards her. She pulled a thin-eyed needle from her own dress, and then came to a stark realisation.

"How on Earth am I meant to sew up these burn holes when I can't even sew?!" Frustrated, she chucked the dress across the room. "This is hopeless! I'm young! I'm pretty! I'm amazingly fast... Hold on... If I take one of the dresses and run there myself... Nah, it'll never work. Those things are designed to fit a whale, not a person."

Muffled curses can be heard faintly in the background as Belle kicks off over this remark.

"I just wish that, just this once... It could be me and not them."

"Then we must hurry, there's little time."

The warm breath on the back of her neck and the sharp, blunt suddenness of the words that followed caused Cinderella to practically leap out of her skin. With a shrill yelp, she toppled to the floor, taking the stall down with her and crawling away from the stick-thin man, in fact he seemed to be nothing more than a walking white cloak in heavy boots, with a tattered grey scarf wrapped around his face. His hair was limp, black verging on grey, his eyes just holes in his head. They scowled at her, even as he offered her a hand up. She reluctantly took it, despite thinking better.

"Where did you even come from?!" She gaped, brushing the dust from her clothes.

"The right side of the stage, like any good Fairy Godfather should."

"Look, I've seen every Disney movie ever made - And fairies do not look like creepy old men!"

"I'm a special kind of fairy."

"Then shouldn't you be dressed in pink?"

Badum-tish!

"I'm here to make you an offer you can not refuse!"

"Oh my God! Is there no escaping Marlon Brando in this production?!'

"Marlon who?" Said the Godfather, breaking his perma-scowl just long enough to show a brief glimpse of confusion.

"Some actor guy I guess. He was in a lot of movies I've never seen, but there was this question on a TV quiz show once 'Which of these movies doesn't star Marlon Brando'..."

"It matters not! You must listen to me, Pulse! You are one of the Chosen few, and the future... The lives of millions... Depend upon your actions tonight. The path has been set, the strings of prophecy have been strung and you will go to the ball!"

"Look, I know I've been whining about how I'm always left out and how I wanted to go and all, but really, I'm fine! I mean, the house'll be empty, I'll be able to raid the ice cream, lounge about as I please for a few hours. Who needs a ball anyway, huh? Huh?" She giggled, nervously, only to be stared down by her guardian fairy. "Alright, alright! Lives of millions! Strands of prophecy! I shall go to the ball! But seriously, you are so creeping me out..."

"Good." He said, leering out of the window cautiously before swirling around to face her. He examined her briefly, his gaze causing goosebumps to break out across her skin. "Hm, you can't go like that."

"Well, duh."

"I need dry timber. Lots of dry timber."

"Um... Wouldn't you prefer a pump..." That glare swung around to her again, forcing her to throw her arms up in defeat. "Fine. Timber. Whatever!"

A few moments later, Jolly still holding up the appropriate sign, something more akin to a bonfire than a warm, cozy camp-fire have been built up. Cinders paced back and forth on the edge of the stage, about as far away from the crackle of wood as she could, whilst the Fairy Godfather stared deeply into it, fascinated and unmoving. Eventually, Cinderella threw her hands to her side and skirted around ash coated floor to get to him.

"So tell me, exactly what was the point of this again?"

"It's my thinking fire."

"I thought you said there was little time!"

"It's true, there is little time."

"Then get me to the freaking ball already!"

There was a brief knock at the window, the face of a rather charming young man appearing at the window. For the most part, he looked neat, tidy and presentable - His shoulder length hair tied back behind his head and his roguishly handsome smile almost capturing her heart there and then. However, the rough growth of stubble across his chin and the fact that part of his ear seemed to be missing made her cautious.

"Delion." Nodded the Fairy Godfather. "About time. In, now."

"Your carriage awaits, m'lady." He bowed low as he entered.

"Oh... wow..." She gasped, although the audience couldn't quite see what she was ogling at. "It's... Beautiful... But look at me! If I turn up like this they'll assume I'm the Lady of Trashtopia."

"Never fear, my good lady. For I have endeavoured to borrow some suitable garments from a... Ah, Lady friend of mine, for just such a predicament!"

Delion bowed once more, leaving the stage only to return the most delicate garments that Cinderella had ever seen. All silk veils and flowing robes, complete with the strangest jewellery she'd ever seen.

"Wow..." She gasped. "... It's like something out of Aladdin."

"Um..." Delion eyed the Fairy Godfather, mouthing 'Who's Aladdin?' to him.

"But I was kinda hoping for something a little more... Y'know, traditional?"

"Listen to me, M'lady..." Said Delion, cupping her chin in his hand. "Do you want to be traditional, or do you want to be noticed?"

"Well... I guess when you put it like that..."

"Good." Snapped the Fairy Godfather. "You can get changed in the coach, we must leave at once... Something wicked this way comes."

"Actually, Jarvis, I was thinking that maybe we could... Skip the ball, and I could take this beautiful young lady on a..." The glare that Cinders had suffered for so long was now turned onto Delion. "... Nevermind. To the ball, M'lady!"

"Pulse... Two things before you go. One, watch out for your counterpart - She will be there, and she will attempt to foil you in anyway she can."

"Uh... Right. Foil me. Gotcha. Number two?"

"Make sure you're back by Midnight."

"Because my coach will turn into a pumpkin?" She squeaked optimistically.

"No."

"We could only rent it out until then." Delion informed her.

"Great" Just great! Cinderella - Brilliant I thought! I'll get to prance around in a pretty frock for half the play, kiss a tall, handsome young man at the end and live happily ever after once good triumphs over evil. But no. My best friend is a vampire, my stepmother a psychopathic asylum escapee and now, now, my Godfather, of all things, is a scrooge! Well, c'mon then! Let's go meet Prince Charming - He can't be any worse than any of you lot!"

She shoved past Delion, who then rather graciously followed her out. With the door closed, the Fairy Godfather cast one more glance to his smouldering embers and vanished to the right side of the stage. As the fire crackled and died, something stirred to the left. The click-click, click-click of metal on metal. He crawled from the shadows, the hair atop his head nothing more than a distant memory, his face like the surface of a pale, green-tinged moon. His robe was long and black, draped over his frail figure as if it had been hung on an ornate coat hanger. On one hand a set of metal claws sewed into a glove click-clicked endless as they rattled together. Although this was the moment the crowd should have booed and hissed, the only hissing to be heard was the low, near inaudible breath.

"Yes, Cardinal... Yes... Your little washer girl shall go to the ball. But she won't go alone..." He dipped the frail fingers of his clawless hand deep into the arm of his robe, drawing forth a scraggy rat that he let scamper onto the floor. "Come Lucian... It's time."

He drew an ornamental dagger in much the same way he'd dug out the rat, holding his finger steady over he pricked it, letting the blood drip onto the creatures mottled coat. In a puff of smog-grey smoke she rose, the very figure of perfection with sleek black hair that practically flowed down her back and deep, ebony skin. So dark she could barely be made out in the dim light of the stage. Reels of black cloth rolled down the length of her body, knitting together to form an intricately patterned dress before the smoke fully cleared.

"Go Lucian, to Prince Charming's ball! Show the Cardinal's whelp that there's no such thing as 'happily ever after'!"

"Well, nobody loves an unhappy ending more than me." She purred, bending over to peck him on the forehead. "I won't let you down. Mark my words, by the end of the night, that red-haired tart is going to be wishing she'd never heard the name Prince Charming!"


**INTERMISSION**

Right, part two will hopefully be posted on the 25th of December. I have a dozen other little projects on the go at the moment, but I'll strive to make time for it. What can you do in the meantime? Well, obviously there's the usual thing of commenting, complaining you don't understand, or just sitting in silent awe. But seeing as this is a production by my characters... Why don't we have some of your characters responses from the audiance? :D

Who knows, could be fun. :)

[Matt A]

Hmm...my first-ever in-character review, and my first writing for this character in over nine months...well, just don't blame me if this don't make any sense.:p


Michael slowly rubbed his forehead. What was he doing here again?

Ah yes, the contract. As per always. Tumbler, her name was, up in one of the boxes. And if he had to sit through a panto to get paid, then so be it.

But, he had to admit, this was a much more entertaining night than he’d feared. He was already two-hundred years old by the time pantomimes like this hit the streets, but even without the excuse of not having experienced them as a child, he just couldn’t find the heart to enjoy these things. They were just so…well, stupid.

So, he’d been willing to just detach from everything, letting his subconscious do all the “audience participation” stuff to keep him blended in. But to his surprise, when the interval came round, he found himself actually analysing what he’s seen.

His first thought was, the guys who made this had stumbled across a pivotal truth: the “kiddies”, they who a panto is made for, often have a more developed and even sicker sense of humour than most adults. Cue the narrator being a vampire, the dame being a cigar-chomping, Kurtz-quoting loony, the villainess being a deranged harpy, and a million and one other random things.

And also, despite his focus on the job he was here for, and the tiny back-row seat that dug into his arse after the first minute, it was just really, really funny. He wasn’t sure if he’d gotten all the jokes, but even Buttons being a vampire, which he was sure was a reference to something he didn’t know, was just a comic gem.

Michael blinked, then flicked himself on the nose. He was analyzing again. It was a habit he really needed to get out of. Despite the heckles from those few idiots who didn’t “get” it – he’d need to have a private word with them later – pantos were just there to be what they were. So he’d watch the second half, hopefully enjoy it, and then go find this Tumbler woman.

Yeah, good times…

[ArtificialIdiot]

Nice one! :D I have no idea who Michael is, but that's ok because I've been throwing so many people into the same boat with this little piece of work that I guess it's only fair. Still, I enjoyed that one - Certaintly the most analytical of the Intermission pieces, but then you already said that was in character. :D

So now we're all settled in, let's dim those motherfragging lights!

* * *

And so, the lights dim once more. Which was unfortunate for the masses of people still trying to reach their seats, arms full of flimsy cardboard cartons full of sweets and drink - Needless to say, there were many unfortunate accidents and a great deal of unnecessary, and in some cases necessary, gunfire from the more volatile members of the audience. The band started playing once more, only it has changed dramatically since we last saw it. The lone keyboardist and his partner on glockenspiel having faced a hostile takeover by Grexxon's elite Alpha Assault Services in the Intermission. They were replaced by a twenty piece Synth-Orchestra that were currently pounding out an epic sound-track which was something akin to what would happen if you put John Williams and Gary Numan in a blender... Only with a lot less blood involved. Unfortunately nothing quite so epic was there to match it on the stage, the red velvet curtains rose behind Jolly, the spotlights kicked in once more and suddenly we were transported to a grand ballroom, as designed by somebody with more experience producing flatpack furniture for Ikea.

"All ah'm sayin' is, ya'll try havin' gruddanged face putty, stick-on zits, an overgrown, fake nose and prosthetic facial hair glued all over ya an' see if you look a million Nuyen..." Belle grumbled into her drink, dressed to the nines in the most unflattering dress on the planet.

"There, there, Miss..." Said Grey, dressed to the eights in the second most unflattering dress on the planet, whilst patting her on the small of her back. "... I'm sure, you're... Ah, very attractive under all that."

"Really?" She gasped, her eyes instantly meeting his own. "Ya'll think... Jovis on a stick, I could kiss you!"

"Um, I'm pretty sure that would be incest, actually..."

"Never stopped me before, sugar." She winked. She looked up at the audience, scowling as she got an eyeful of Jolly's back. "What the fraggin' hell is that danged Trogg doing here?!"

"What's a tro..."

Even as Grey asked his ill-fated question, the point of Belle's boot had found the cow's backside and sent it reeling off the stage (Intermission sign and all) into the newly formed orchestra, producing, against all odds, a 'Badum-tish' sound. The drummer was subsequently shot by the Composer in Chief for failing to provide the right mood. He also made a note to have the families life insurance docked to cover the damages.

"Come on." Said Belle, walking away from the carnage. "I'm sober and I need a drink."

As the two ugly sisters leave, enter Cinderella, dressed in thin, Arabic style veils of royal blue and deep shades of purple which managed to cover everything and yet still leave little to the imagination at the same time. As a result, most of the borrowed elegance was lost as she clinged to her arms for dear life, crossing them over her chest and wishing the Earth would just swallow her whole and belch out these ridiculous garments. It wasn't that they were revealing, as stated they covered everything quite nicely, it was just that she stood out so much. She could see the extras, noble men and women, all turning their heads to stop and stare as she passed. Bluntly put, it was creeping her out, and was that her sisters she'd just seen?

"You know, I think this whole ball thing wasn't such a good idea after all." She mused to herself, before freezing in place. It was like time had momentarily stood still, as the other characters also stopped dead. From the left side of the stage she emerged to the sound of dramatic music, Lucian the Rat - The Wicked Witch. Learning from the old bands mistake, the professionals of Grexxon played some pre-recorded boo's and hissing to make up for the largely uninterested audience.

"So, I see I'm just in time! And this is what I'm up against? A plain faced, freckle-cheeked, ginger haired peasant girl?" She snorted, her features slowly changing. Her ebony skin became pale, and fair, as did her hair - Which lit up into luscious locks of curly blonde. Her gown also changed, becoming a magnificent green and gold masterpiece with jewellery dripping off of it. "Well, would you look at that... From rats to riches!"

The replacement drummer was in just in time for a quick Badum-tish!

"And now, we wait for the Prince!"

Father time suddenly picked up the pace, and the various extras began to move and socialise again. Suddenly, a series of trumpets from the orchestra announced Buhgan, the Royal Herald, who in turn announced the grand entrance of Prince Charming himself! He casually descended from yet another entrance onto the stage, this one leading down a set of stairs. He was dressed in a plain, blue suit with his long, purple hair tied back and his smooth, almost too smooth, skin gleaming in the spotlight.

"You going to stare at me all day, or is somebody going to get me a goffing drink?" He smiled, in a disarmingly charming way, of course. He leaned over to his attendant, who'd followed him down soon after, whispering into his forearm. "God, Tyrus, it's like a morgue in here - You don't happen to..."

"No drugs, Prince-Captain."

"Not even in the bath..." The giant reptile shook his head. "Fine, whatever. Announce the band."

"If I can have your attention." He didn't need to ask twice, nothing like having a great, blue dinosaur bellowing at you to get your attention. "I'd like to introduce our entertainment for this evening, will you please welcome Lady Stardust & The All Powerful Revolutionary Army of the Goblins of the Night From Mars!"

Taking to the stage on a stage was the most rag-tag band of black-hooded Goblins that ever lived. They were like some deranged cross between a religious cult and the A-team. On drums, a white furball under her hood, was Nixie Nix. On bass, sporting a terribly exaggerated moustache and a pair of shifty eyes, was Pierre. On lead guitar, the one eyed, grizzled leader of the pack - General Bulldog. And then, coming in like a shooting star and impacting with the stage in a shower of sparks was the glam-rock Goddess herself. Sometime party girl and socialite, other time defender and champion of the fair city of Lutonopolis and this time lead singer of her Goblins From Mars - Lady Stardust! Almost as soon as she hit the scene, the band broke out into an amped up rendition of 'Scary Monsters and Super Creeps', which was highly appropriate seeing as many of the audience and cast members were either one or the other.

However, even this amazing entrance couldn't wrestle attention away from the true centre of all attention - Prince Charming. Within minutes, he was having to plow his way through a dozen women. The first to pounce being Lucian, who despite turning on all her charm and making sure he knew just how perfect her perfect figure could be, was turned away for being too clingy. The Ugly sisters suffered a similar fate, one being politely told she was as ugly as a stigs backside and the other...

"Grey?!" He practically spat his drink out in shock, and regretted doing so not long after.

"Ah, Captain! Well... Um... Good to see you?"

"Are you... Is that... A dress?"

"Um... Well... Yes. yes, it is..." The two paused, staring at each other for a moment. "... This is, slightly awkward... Isn't it?"

"Yeah..."

"Maybe... I mean, perhaps I should... Go?"

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe you should."

"Right... Still, good to see a familiar face! I was getting slightly worried that I was all..."

"Grey." The Prince stated bluntly. "Just go."

While the pack were slobbering over him like dogs (he is deviously charming, after all!) Cinderella found herself just enjoying the entertainment. She was something of a casual David Bowie, and an eightiesaphile so she was finally getting into this and loosening up a bit. Not quite dancing yet, but defiantly feeling the urge. She sighed and started to stack her plate from the buffet, nobody else had seen or touched it yet so she thought she should get in fast, she almost dropped her plate, however, when somebody suddenly spoke to her.

"Not fawning over the Prince?"

"What? Oh. Oh. No, I... I just come for the experience. It's not as fun as I thought it'd be."

"No, every common girl seems to dream of this... Fancy frocks, grand ballrooms. finding a dashing nobleman to settle down with." The man sighed. "If only they knew that the frocks were uncomfortable, the ballrooms boring and the aristocracy? Didn't get their powers for their good looks. Makes me wonder why we hold them."

"I think it's kind of romantic, you know? A grand ball... To choose your life partner? Don't you think?" The man chuckled.

"Business, more like. What's your name, I've never seen you before."

"Ssss.... Cinderella." She blurted out, unable to think of any clever pseudonym on the fly.

"I'm Prince Charming." He smiled, taking her hand. "Care to dance?"

"Is that... I mean, it's not a royal command or anything?"

"it's a request."

"Then consider it granted, my Prince."

"Please, just call me Charming."

And so the mood and tempo of the music changed, Lady Stardust powered down from being a crazy haired, rackus animal barely able to keep herself within the confines of the stage, to become a crazy haired, soft voiced temptress. Whispering her way through a song very close to her heart, David Bowie's Lady Stardust. Stood at the edge of the stage, swaying to the sound her melodic vocal caresses, was Buttons. Who had originally came as chaperone for the Ugly Sisters.

"I smiled sadly, for a love I could not obey..." He sighed, before rather dramatically fainting.

"... Laaady Stardust, sang his sooong of - Darkness and Dismay..."

The tight costumed super heroine picked up, before throwing herself into the corner. Cinderella couldn't have really cared what was playing, she was a nervous wreck. It appeared that neither of them could actually dance, both apologising several times for trampling all over each others feet, and in her case kneeing him in the shin at one point, so they'd settled for cuddling in the middle of the stage. Despite it all though, she as in heaven. She'd never had her feet trampled so... So charmingly before. She wished this night would never end... And then caught a glance at the time.

"Oh my God!" She squealed, literally jumping out of his arms. "OhGod!OhGod!OhGod!Ihavetogo!Someman!Goingtokillme!Notbackbymidnight! Oh, Bye!"

And with that, she vanished without a trace, dashing off at a near inhuman speed and leaving Prince Charming feeling more like Prince Bewildered. Seeing her chance, Lucian slipped her arm around his shoulder and pressed her ample chest against him, whispering wickedly into his ear.

"Oooh, what a shame... Still, I'm sure there are more.... Suitable maidens here to keep you... Company."

"Get off me, you expensively-dressed son of a rhazzard!" He scowled, literally throwing the nubile young witch off her. "I must find that woman! If I can't marry her, then I refuse to marry anyone!"

"I'll get you for this, Cinderella you little whore!" She scowled, once Prince Charming had valiantly left to chase his lady love. "Just you wait!"

She picked herself up, and dashed from the stage, which proceeded to black out. There was the customary movement of props and backgrounds, made all the easier by the fact there was no longer a great big Trogg in the way, before we arrived at a hastily painted forest on a piece of MDF in the background. Running through which was Cinderella, having point blank refused a lift home from Delion. Mainly because she wasn't sure just who's home he meant. She was back in her rags, cold and miserable and could hardly believe she'd stood up the Prince, when out of nowhere (or rather, the left side of the stage), leapt Lucian, back in all her jet-black evilness.

"Who... Who are you?!" Cinderella inquired, taking a few steps back.

"You silly little girl, Grand Balls aren't made for peasants like you! And I'm going to teach you a lesson so harsh you'll never overstep the mark and humiliate me ever again!"

"I... I don't know what you're talking about!" She stammered. "Why are you doing this?!"

"Oh, it's all too simple my girl... For you see, when the devil is too busy... And death, well, it's a bit too much. They call me by name, you see, for my special touch."

She paused, lowering her head before sneering and letting out the hint of a cackle.

"Oh, it's so easy when you're eeevil!" She sang, springing out to the edge of the stage and throwing her arms out. "What am I?!"

Her question was met with the sound of silence, tumble-weeds and the odd cough.

"Fine! If you won't sing along, I won't even bother!" She turned to Cinderella, throwing her hand dramatically over her head and then bringing it down to point directly at her. "By the power vested in me as a one-dimensional pantomime *****, I curse you to never find true love!"

"Oh my god!" She gasped. "Now Dick'll never love me!!!"

"Wait... What?!"

"Oh..." She started to blush. "Sorry, I kind of... Slipped out of character there."

"Oh for... You know what, forget this! Just forget it! My one, big, defining moment in this whole damned production and you go and balls it up! Well that's it, dim the lights! I quit!"

And so the lights were dimmed. When they return, we find ourselves back outside Dame Whiskey-Washey's laundry and fortune telling services, with the ever so charming Prince Charming dashing down the path on a horses head on a stick.

"You there! Yes, the fat peasant in the dress! Spread the word, I'm looking for the most beautiful women in all the Kingdom to take her hand in..."

"Heh, hold up there your Dykeness." Whiskey Washey cut him off. "If you hadn't realised, gay marriage isn't quite legalised yet, sweetheart."

"Oh for... What the goffing hell is wrong with you, you stupid rhazzard?! I'm dressed like a man... A man! You know, so I'm a man?"

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to be a slag in drag - But they sure as hell ain't paying me anywhere near my usual rate for that service." He retorted, raising a few eyebrows in the audience.

"Look... Hey, is that popcorn?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"Well, I am kind of hungry..."

"Confection stand's outside. Now, what was it about this tart you wanted to marry?"

"She vanished, without a trace! Leaving nothing behind but this one, single momento of our night together..." He dipped is hands into his coat, and withdrew a mashed up piece of gum. "If I can find the woman who's teeth are identical to the marks in this gum, then I shall find my true love once and for all!"

"That's one of the most idiotic things I've ever heard." The Dame drawled. "Just tell me what she looks like and I can help."

"Well, I suppose it's a novel idea but worth a try." He shrugged, putting away his wad of gum. "She has hair, red as fire it's self! Her delicate face spotted with the cutest little freckles, her frame subtle and understated, not to fat, but not too thin either..."

"Her name's Cinderella and you don't want to marry her."

"You dare tell your Prince who he can and cannot marry without giving a good reason?!"

"She likes Titanic."

"Ouch... That is pretty bad actually. But still, not the end of the world - I mean, what else could go wrong?"

"Her Stepmother is a psychotic *****."

"Oh believe me, she can't be any worse than mine - Come, show me where this fair maiden resides!"

"Alright, alright. Get off your high horse already, princess."

And so the Charming Prince was led to Cinderella's front door by the unwashed peasant. The Prince unmounted, the appropriate knocking sounds issuing from the orchestra matching the motions of his hand. When Cinder's stepmother answered, both this jaws hit the floor.

"You!" Exclaimed the Prince.

"Well, isn't this a surprise!" She sneered in return. "I knew it! I knew you were turning my stepdaughter against me!"

"Goffing hell, woman! This is fiction! You don't even have a stepdaughter!"

"I don't?! I don't, do I?! Have I disowned you? Have I, Genalyn you two-bit whore?! Sun's above know I should have, but I never disowned you! And yet you continue to disgrace me!"

"Oh believe me, you have no trouble disgracing yourself on your own!" He spat back. "What are you even doing here, anyway? Don't you have an empire to run?"

"I am Cinderella's stepmother, and I'd just like you to know I finally have three daughters who really appreciate me!"

"Three? Oh, oh goff me with a stick! You're not the mother of those two ugly rhazzards are you?"

"As a matter of fact I am, and they're both three times the lady you'll ever be!"

"One of them is a man!" She screamed at her. "Are you really so stupid?!"

"Oh, so I'm stupid now?! Last I checked, it was me who'd worked herself to the bone keeping your father's affairs in order! What have you been doing in that time, hm Genalyn?!"

"About as much work keeping my father's 'affairs' in order as you have." He turned dramatically, waving his arm dismissively. "No true love is worth this amount of hassle, let's go."

Flustered, Cinderella's stepmother slammed the door, knocking over the flimsy cardboard wall that was holding it.

"Who does she think she is?!" She raged at her stepdaughter, who was just inside the room. "Coming to my home like that..."

"Oh my God..." Cinderella sobbed as her Stepmother stormed off. "The curse... It came true! Now I'll never find my true love!"

"Never fear, my dear... Never fear..." Came a faint rasp from the left side of the stage. To the synthesized sounds of looped booing and hissing, came the Wicked Wizard. His claws click-clicking with each word he spoke. "I am here to help."

"Help?! But you're a repulsive! In fact, ew! Ew! Ew!" She took her bucket of soapy and threw it over him.

"You... INSOLENT WRETCH! I'll..." He took a moment to regain his composure and flashed his gums. "... Thank you for the wash, it has been awhile since I experienced one."

Sure smells like it, too."

"Now, now - No need to get personal. Especially when I have such an enticing offer."

"Uh-huh?"

"You've tried one Fairy, now try me - I can regain your true love and break the curse, in just one simple visit..."

"One..."

"Simple visit." He confirmed.

"Hm... I don't know, I mean, how do I know I can trust you?"

"You trusted my counterpart, and he led you on the road to ruin - It's my duty to take you off it."

"Well, I suppose at least you're not spewing all that nonsense and destiny, prophecy and how the fate of the world rests on my shoulders."

"Of course not, this is all about what makes you happy. Take my hand girl, and we'll appeal to King Charming for his son's affection together."

"King Charming? Can you really get us an audience with King Charming?!"

"Of course, I'm a good friend. A very good friend. But we must leave, quickly. Take my hand!"

"Well... Alright..." She said, slipping her hand into his. "After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

The lights dimmed on the two dramatically, and returned to Prince Charming. Riding side by side with Tyrus, having ditched that appalling washer woman, he feared she might swindle him out of enough money to buy every cigar in Cuba if he hadn't. But still his mind was not at rest.

"I dunno, Tyrus... Should I really let my stepmother stand in the way between me and the woman of my dreams?"

"Don't you mean her stepmother, Prince-Captain."

"Yeah, yeah right... Sorry, it's just so confusing and so frustrating. I mean, on the one hand I've only just met her and on the other hand I'm madly in love with her..."

"We're on a time limit, Prince-Captain. We had to cut all the courting out, I'm afraid."

"I know, it's just... What should I do Tyrus?"

"The way I see it, you can always put her step-mother in a home and live happily ever after."

"Hm, I'd never thought of that before... Jesus, what would I do without you?"

"I dread to think. Back to the house?"

"Back to the house!" She confirmed, the two turning their wooden horses around and dashing off back to where we began. He knocked on the door, which was again answered by her stepmother.

"You again!" She spat, but didn't get the chance for a follow up.

"Out of the way, M'lady! I demand to see your daughter!"

"Which one?"

"Cinderella?!" Came a shout from off-stage. "Cinders? Where are you?!"

Suddenly, Buttons burst onto the stage, looking frantically from the Prince to the Stepmother.

"It' Cinderella, I can't find her anywhere. I fear she may have ran away or been kidnapped or worse!"

"I'm sure she's just gone for a walk." Stated Lady Maness. "And even if she hadn't, she wouldn't be the first daughter to abandon me!"

"Roll on the wedding day..." Sighed the Prince. "You, what's your name?"

"Buttons, your majesty."

"God, you're pale... Are you sure you're not too sick to be doing this?"

"Sicker than you know." He confirmed. "I can still help you find Cinders though, you could say I have a nose for these things."

"Good, come on! There's little time to waste!"

The lights dim once more, and stay dim long after the scuffling of props and the cursing of those that move them has died down. The audience, bored as ever, can hear the faint cussing of 'The bloody spotlights have blown!' in the still quiet, which they're forced to sit in for a good fifteen minutes - Because the doors are locked. Those that didn't escape while they could during the intermission are thoroughly kicking themselves by now. When the lights do return, after all that suspense and waiting, we find ourselves not in King Charming's castle - But in the high street, outside Whiskey-Washey's once more.

"Cinderella?" Calls Buttons. "Cinders? Oh, it's ever such a mess, y'know. I mean, where could she have got too?"

"I'll tell you where." Stated the Fairy Godfather in his splendid white cloak, swooping out from the right side of the stage.

"And who are you?" Demanded Prince Charming.

"The Fairy Godfather."

"Heh, then you're in the wrong place." Said Whiskey-Washey, whilst chomping another cigar. "The gay bar's down the street on the left - You can't miss it, it's called the Flaming Homo."

"Do they really burn these strange creatures called homos?" The Godfather whispered into her ear.

"Not the in way you're thinking of."

"Then it is unimportant. Your girl has been tricked by the vile forces of the Adversary and it is imperative that you rescue her, otherwise the entire world could be in danger!"

"Where is she?!" Demanded the Prince, drawing his wooden sword then feeling like a right prat for it.

"Well, maybe if you could collect some dry timber for me..." The stern look on all their faces soon changed his mind. "Very well, with your father - The King."

"Well, that's a relief." Sighed Buttons.

"No! No it isn't! We must hurry to the palace at once! Before my father does unspeakable things!"

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere." Said Whiskey-Washey. "I've played my part, done my bit - Now I'm gonna get these ridiculous clothes off and go back home."

"But we need you!" Pleaded Buttons. "You have all the best lines!"

"Ain't budging, sweetheart. Ain't nothing in the world worth staying in this thing for a second longer."

"I realised that a more subtle method of persuasion was called for in this situation." Said Buttons to the audience, stepping back from them she turned to the Dame. "I'll undo my top button if you come with us."

"Deal!" He snapped. "Well, come on ladies! What you waiting for, the palace awaits!"

When they arrived, after a quick blackout, the Dame had changed her tune dramatically. Both herself and the Prince found themselves surrounded by yet more MDF, only this time with a poorly designed, grey brickwork pattern scrawled on it. There were also two paper mache banisters lining the staircases to the higher entrance, poorly giving the impression of an entrance hall.

"You could've reminded me she had her bloody chest bound up for the part." Whiskey-Washey moaned as they entered. "I mean, what's the point of undoing your top button when there's nothing to see."

"I thought it'd be blindingly obvious." He commented, removing his cloak and sword belt and hanging them up on a hatstand by the stage entrance. "Father! Father, I'm home!"

The King, like his son, appeared at the top entrance to the stage, place his boots down on each step purposely. His hair was blonde, braided behind his head to keep it out of his face with a solid plastic crown on top. His eyes were blue pits, and alive with an excitement that was also betrayed by the smirk on his face. A grey trenchcoat brushed against his all grey attire, with one sleeve banded with a piece of red fabric across her arm.

"Guten-tag, mein sohn. It seems you've arrived just in time."

"Listen, father - A red headed girl is coming to the palace..."

"I know, I know." His father cooed, stepped around him like a vulture. "It seems she arrived just before you did - Which is a stroke of luck, as I've already arranged for the execution."

He snapped his fingers, which was the cue for a man possibly even larger than the Prince's attendant to appear. He was tall, built of nothing but muscle and dressed in all black with a silver dollar sign on his chest. All his other features were cloaked by a black hood. Over his mighty shoulder was thrown Cinderella, kicking, screaming and demanding to be let go. Which he eventually did, by dumping her legs first on the floor. Which only caused her to complain all the more.

"This little schlampe had the audacity to come up to the palace gates and grovel for you hand in marriage."

"Look, I know she's a commoner and all but really, that doesn't mean you have to kill..."

"A commoner?" She stated in disbelief. "You think I'd murder this whelp because she's a commoner?! We have no need of wealth, or titles or anything. But there is one thing I do look for in a bride for my son - Genetics."

"You have got to be kidding me." The Prince stated. "Have you even read the script, you're supposed to object to her being a peasant."

"Call it artistic interpretation." The King smiled, placing a hand firm on his shoulder. "Think for a second, who would you rather have. This... This rather scrawny, physically defected little girl with no figure at all..."

"Hey! I'm not physically defected!" Cinders protested.

"You're ginger, aren't you?" Injected Dame Whiskey.

"It's red" She objected. "Besides, you want to talk about genetics? How can you be his father! How is that even possible?!"

Both the King and Whiskey exchanged an awkward look, the latter losing her cool, unshakable image for just a few seconds to actually look a little unnerved. Just a little, mind.

"Fancy seeing you here." He said, after clearing his throat.

"Ja... Been awhile."

"I think I'm going to be sick..." Cinders complained, snapping the King back to reality.

"No, I have found you a new wife!" He called up the stairway, and so ended Lucian the Witch - All dolled up in her ballroom guise once more. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, a perfect figure and no mental disorders... Like Judaism."

"Well, I suppose you do have a point..." The Prince mused.

"Has a point?! She's stark raving nuts!" Protested Cinders.

"It's far from madness, actually." Rumbled the Executioner. "It's a proven scientific fact that some people just aren't fit to live in a perfect society - It's called eugenics."

"Don't tell me you believe that..."

"He's from the deep south." Interrupted Whiskey. "He'll believe anything."

Badum-tish.

"Oh god, if only Buttons were here! In fact..." Cinders stood up, approaching the audience. "Maybe if we all shout the magic word loud enough, we'll be able to call him! Are you ready? After three... One... Two... Meta Anti-Meta... Human... Dracula... Um. What's the word again?"

"Human Meta-Human Vampiric Virus!" Exclaimed Buttons, stomping on stage. "Really, it's not that hard to remember. Just think of it as HMHVV"

"HMV?" Inquired the bewildered Cinderella.

"Heh, believe me - That's a whole other kind of blight on the nation you don't want to get into." Said Whiskey. "Really kid, should've picked a simpler word."

"I know! But look, I've been on the internet looking at this website and I stumbled across the most amazing thing searching for the cast names on Google..."

"You must have been bored..."

"Shut up, I wanted to see if they'd caught my good side on the publicity photos!" He snapped. "I found us all... Only it was like, some kind of chronicle following the events of everything we'd ever done... Like somebody is writing our adventures down, and publishing them in digital form... It's... It's like a detectives wet dream, being able to look into the lives of others... And find some rather interesting angles to work."

She pointed at the Executioner.

"You, you're the Taxdodger, right?"

"S'right, ma'am.. I mean, Sir!"

"And you're totally into this eugenics stuff, right?"

"Well, the King got me into it and it makes a lot of sense..."

"Does it? What about all the taxes lost? And don't tell me they're unfit to work - What about all the below minimum wage labour? Jobs the superior beings don't want to do? You take away the scum of the Earth, we all have to get down on our knees and get dirty - Only for more pay, how do you think that one effects taxes?"

"Well, I hadn't thought of that..."

"Oh, and to round it off - She's a Nazi."

"A... A what?!" He stumbled back to look at her, clenching his fists. "You mean I've been working for... For some.... Hopped up commie wannabe?!"

"Don't you dare compare my beautiful motherland to those gottverdammt soviet scum!" He spat.

"Listen, you're just lucky right now that my momma brought me up never to hit a lady!"

"Then it's a good job I'm dressed as a man, ja?" He growled, before launching himself at the executioner, hitting him in the stomach with all her weight. One would think that given their relative sizes, this wouldn't accomplish much, but King Charming was more powerful than he looked, hitting the larger man with such force that he was knocked backwards into the Orchestra pit.

"Well, that's that then. Good triumphs over evil, the Nazis get a sound thrashing and we can all go home." Said Buttons, wiping his hands together and making his way off the stage.

"Not quite." Lucian sashayed to the forefront of the stage, a wicked grin on her face. "For you see, the curse still stands and your true love, Cinderella... Is mine. Isn't that right, my Charming Prince?"

"Of course, my love." The Prince fell to his knees before her, taking her hand and laying a kiss on it.

"And so the prophecy is fulfilled." Sneered the Wicked Wizard, slinking from the left side of the stage but missing his customary booing and hissing because of the ongoing fight below. "The forces of the Adversary triumph, the stings of destiny have been snapped and evil triumphs over the Cardinals puppets!"

"I thought you didn't do all that prophecy garbage!" Cinders groaned.

"You'd be surprised what people do when they're gloating." Whiskey, on the other hand, was busy rolling her eyes - When he pounced.

"ZANIS!"

Out of nowhere (or, if you prefer, the right side of the stage) sprang the Fairy Godfather. He was quite literally a flash of white as he sprinted across the stage, drawing his sword in one fluid movement and impaling it into the putrid little Wizard's chest in another. Although that movement was fluid for quite a different reason. In the background, the various characters looked on, stunned, mildly amused or completely disinterested according to how sadistic they were feeling at the time. Cinderella herself let out a shrill scream, stumbling for a moment and fainting with a soft 'thud', which was the first real sound effect to actually appear in the production. The Wizard, as stunned as anyone, grasped the blade with both hands in a rather futile gesture.

"Damn you... Cardinal..." He choked out through his own blood, moments before his head lolled to one side.

"You... You killed him." Gasped Buttons, in disbelief.

"About bloody time too." Commented Whiskey, casually lighting another cigar.

"It's... Um... Still too late." Lucian carried on regardless, only this time unsure if pushing her luck would make her a rat sis kebab. "The Prince is still mine, and there's nothing any of you can do about it."

"She's right." Admitted the Godfather. "Alone, I do not possess the power to break the curse... But, if somebody would be kind enough to rub my lamp..."

"Hate to say I told you so, but..." Whiskey whispered to the Prince.

From the inner recesses of his cloak, the Godfather whipped out his lamp. It was an ugly little black thing, with a longer nosel than you'd usually find on such a piece of kit, obviously designed to be study, and given long hard rubs as opposed to gentle caresses. He began to work on it furiously, running his hand up and down it's length and cursing it wen nothing was happening. Eventually, however, a plume of noxious green smoke spurted from the end and slowly took shape to form a man in a long, black robe and skin that looked as if it had been decaying out in the sun for too long. As far away from your typical pantomime genie as you can get, aside from one minor factor - He still looked absolutely ridiculous.

"I am Dark Sorrow, miserable old bastard of the lamp." He announced, to cast and audience alike. "Heed my words, for I had to battle Godman himself to claim this small, cameo part as my own!"

"Oh Great Bastard of the Lamp, please - You must help us!" Pleaded Buttons. "Our Prince has been befallen by a curse!"

"Yes, I can sense that. Listen, Mr. Charming - Look at her! She's hot, legal, she wants you and is currently incapable of saying no! So get in there!" He explained, pointing at our unconscious heroine before turning on Lucian. "As for you, you're probably full of silicon anyway and defiantly full of shuh..."

"Sssh, children!"

"... Drek." He snapped his fingers, and in a poof of smoke the Wicked Witch returned to her rat like form before being scooped up by the genie. "Mmm, lunch!"

"I can't believe I've been so blind!" Exclaimed the Prince, dashing charmingly over to his fallen love. "Cinderella... With this true loves kiss I..."

"Ew! Ew! Ew!" She suddenly sat bolt upright, scuffling away from the man she'd spent half the pantomime trying to seduce. "You're going to kiss me?! But you're a girl!"

"Oh believe me..." Purred the Prince, taking her in his arms. "I'm all woman!"

Having her run out on him before, the Prince wasted no time in being anything but charming. The audience, and indeed Whiskey-Washey, took a sudden interest in proceedings as Cinders let out muffled cries for help, before finally deciding she quite liked it and, at least, making sure all the gentlemen in the audience lived happily ever after.

"Well, that was fun!" Cheered Buttons. "I can't wait until next year."

"Next year?" Whiskey raised her eyebrow. "Please, for the love of God, somebody kill me before then."

"Well, that really is that - Then." Said Buttons, stepping up to the audience once more. "Good triumphs over evil, the Nazis get a sound thrashing and our tale ends, as all good tales should surely end, with a heavy dose of blatant fan service. Take care, drive safely and run for that door like Hell, cause all this acting has made me hungry and I'll be picking off stragglers."

She smiled, showing off her razor sharp canines.

"Good night."


Well, that's it. Hope you guys enjoyed this little experiment and I didn't screw up part two too much (hopefullly it wasn't *too* boring). I'm seriously considering making this an annual event... What do you say? :D

And another thing - How much would you guys benefit from a full cast list (including who was actually in it, what role they were playing, a short description of them and where they came from)? Cause I'll get to work on one and post one if need be.

And of course, anybody who wants to write about their characters leaving the theatre is more than welcome.

[Matt A]

I'd write another in-character review, but to be honest, I don't have either the time or the energy. So, I'll just be me this time.

It must be said, that was very, very weird. In fact, it was weird almost to the point of being impossible to follow, but 1) as we both said, that's the whole point of the exercise, and 2) that only made it funnier. It was when the weirdness lapsed into complete insanity that the best moments were produced, such as the argument between Prince Charming/Genalyn Tumbler and Cinderella's Stepmother/Lady Maness, and Taxdodger being and even-more-stupid-than-usual Executioner. Oh yes, and I have to give you maximum credit for making jokes about the cross-dressing nature of panto casting: it is pretty creepy, now that I think about it.:eek:

I'd say more, but again, I think that covers pretty much everything I need to comment on. As I noted last time, this is the kind of panto I'd like to see: insane, knowing and with the blackest of hearts. Yes, another one next year would be pretty cool.:D

-Matt A-

PS: In case you care, Michael is the anti-hero of my first Teen Titans fic, Dwr Budr. He's a cool character, but the story is appauling, so avoid it.;)