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Dancer #11-ish I guess ;-) Sunday, 18-Jun-2000 07:06:11
[The scene: Dancer has come home after a busy day being blackmailed into joining the super-villain team the Scourge of the BZL by Baron Zemo to find Messenger waiting to kill her for turning into a villainess. Also, she’s out of coffee.] Messenger: Prepare to die, traitorous witch! Dancer: You said that last episode. Oh, wait, it was a dramatic recap, right? Messenger: What? Yes, yes it was. As I was saying… Dancer: What did you do to your hair? Messenger: I shaved it off. It was interfering with my mission. Dancer: Well I sure hope you never find a full bladder interfering with your mission then. Does, um, does bathing interfere with your mission as well? Messenger: I can not waste time on personal hygiene while evil blossoms and the sinister stain of crime spreads unchecked across the planet. Dancer: No offence, Messy (can I call you Messy?), but you are the last person to be criticising sinister unchecked stains right now. Couldn’t you war against evil in a laundromat now and then? Messenger: I did not come here to discuss my personal freshness. I came here to execute you for misusing your gifts and turning against the world as a member of Baron Zemo’s Scourge. Dancer: No you didn’t. Messenger: Excuse me? Dancer: I’ve seen you use those razor letters, Messy… Messenger: Dead letters. They’re dead letters now. Dancer: Catchy. Anyway, what I’m getting at is that you are pretty good with them. If you wanted to kill me you could have done it by now. I know what you really want, Mister Postman. Messenger, caught a bit off balance by a target that isn’t fleeing, pleading, or trying to gouge some part of his body off: Er, what do I want then? Dancer, with nice smile: Herbal tea. I’d do you coffee but I’m out right now. Do you prefer Camomile or Elderberry? Messenger: I am the angel of grim justice. I don’t drink herbal tea. Dancer: That bit’s not in my Gideon’s Bible. Adultery, murder, coveting your neighbour’s ass, yes. But I think herbal tea is allowed. Take your clothes off. Messenger: What? If you think you can save yourself with laviscious feminine wiles… Dancer: You wish. No, I’m going to drop them in the washing machine. You can threaten me just as well while I’m ironing your trenchcoat, can’t you? You can borrow my dressing gown if you like while I spin-dry your things. And there’s a shower through there. And a comb. And depilation cream if you’re even weirder than I thought. Messenger: You are a traitorous villainess, and I will not fall for your evil tricks. Er, no sugar in mine, thanks. Dancer: Look, if I promise to let you kill me later will you just relax for a bit and let me take care of you for a while? I mean, we seemed to get on okay before when we had that blind date at the carnival. Of course, you thought I was a waitress and I thought you were sane and not a multiple-murderer, but all the same… Messenger: I did not know that you would succumb to the darker impulses and take Zemo’s hundred thousand dollar a week retainer to join his evil crew back then. Dancer: I haven’t succumbed to any evil impuls… how much a week? That’s nearly ten times what I earn in a year at the Coffee Bar! Messenger: Don’t pretend you haven’t sold out, Dancer! You play innocent, with your herbal tea and your ironing board and your magic massager shower nozzle, but you can not fool me. And you are potentially too powerful to be allowed to join the Scourge. Dancer: Yeah, a question about them. Where was Uatu the Watcher? And I heard that Dr Enormoidstein was supposed to have joined as well. Messenger: I assume we will get a multi-part HH story to sort out the continuity later. Now back to me executing you… Dancer: Okay. Go on then. If you’re absolutely convinced that you’re not wrong, and that you never make mistakes by killing people who are innocent, or who are guilty but might reform and live perfectly worthy lives if only they had the chance, and that I’m not just being blackmailed by Zemo to help him because he knows my secret identity and where my parents and brother live, and that bringing Zemo’s frozen wife back to life might not help temper his constant lust for conquest you just go ahead and Dead Letter me, mister big macho judgmental smelly postman guy! Messenger: …………………………………………..Damn! Dancer (opens one eye): Am I dead yet? Messenger: *sigh* I don’t really have a chance against you, do I? You’re just going to nice me into defeat. Dancer (honestly): Well, you have a small chance, but it is pretty improbable. If you were not basically a decent, loving person who just happens to have become a pungent psycho villain-killer then I would be dead by now. But you are basically decent and loving, aren’t you? Aren’t you? Messenger: Perhaps I just want my trenchcoat ironing? [Next time: Dancer, Zemo, Xander, and the plan to thaw Zemo’s wife] Dancer |
| Dancer #11-ish I guess ;-) (Dancer) (18-Jun-2000 07:06:11) |