Dancer #18 or 19 - The Lair Legion's Little Problem


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Posted by Dancer knows this has been done before in the Parodyverse, but not for a couple of years, so what the heck... on February 20, 2001 at 12:21:48:

[The Scene: Dancer arrives at the Lair Mansion having been hastily summoned by Visionary.]

Dancer: Hi Vizh! What’s the problem? Dark Thugos up to his usual tricks? The Hooded Hood? My own personal archvillainess Magenta St Evil? What crisis is so dire that the LL would need to call in the League of Regulars and the Probability Dancer?

Vizh: Er hi. Yeah. The, er, the crisis. Can you do diapers?

Dancer: Diapers? You mean nappies? Fluffy white things on babies that prevent them, well, that… You mean them?

Vizh: Er, yeah. Y’see, G-Eyed and Exile were helping out Nats on his interdimensional deliveries and as far as Enty can figure it there was a cross-contamination in the time something whatsit, and, well, Enty explained it really, really well and it all made sense at the time. Anyway, the entire LL got zapped back to being babies.

[Sound of L’il Donar hammering. Unfortunately it is the sound of L’il Donar hammering L’il Trickshot to the wall.]

Vizh: Now you kids stop that or there won’t be any jello for supper! Dancer, y’gotta help me! Enty’s working on a solution, but in the meantime…

L’il Troia (pulling on Visionary’s pants leg): Vis’ry? Space Ghost has done number twos.

Vizh: Dancer? Please?

Li’l Troia: Space Ghost has done number twos in Hatty’s hat.

Vizh: And the annoying thing is that Space Ghost hasn’t even been reverted to an infant.

Dancer: I don’t know anything about looking after small children. Where’s Lisa?

Vizh: Well, when she got into the Lairjet she said something about an urgent mission with Cheryl in Tahiti. She promised she’d be right back.

[In the background L’il Sorceress is sick from the Zima she’s been given by CrazySugarFreakBaby]

Vish: Stop that! Or I’ll… I’ll tell Dancer.

[L’il Hatman, L’il Exile, L’il G-Eyed, and L’il Trickshot join in with a chorus of “F*ck off Uncle Fakey”]

Li’l Troia: Vis’ry? Sorceress has turned CrazySugarF’kBaby into a frog and she won’t turn him back.

Dancer: That’s one blessing. Alright Visionary, you owe me big for this.

Vizh (hesitantly): Just to check, this is a Cheryl-style tickets to a nice show or opera owe big, not a Lisa-style handcuffs and whipped cream style owe big, right?

Dancer: Relax, Vizh. I was thinking about pizza.

Vizh: That really doesn’t discount the Lisa option.

Dancer: So how many people – er babies – are in the Lair Legion these days. Nats did send me a Who’s Who update but I’ve not really got round to reading it yet. Lessee, we’ve got most of them playing hide and seek…

L’il Donar: It ist not faireth! L’il Dark Knight doth be hidething too well.

L’il Exile: Hey, why don’t we set fire to the house? That’ll help get him out?

Li’l Nats: Hey I can fly! I bet you guys can’t fly.

Li’l G-Eyed: No fair! CrazySugarFreakToad just hopped under the TV. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?

Dancer: Where’s Little Finny?

L’il Troia: Li’l Ziles locked him in the cupboard.

L’il Sorceress: You know, you’d look really grown up with a hat on, Jay. Why don’t you put your hat on?

Dancer: Can we, like, get these kids into bed or something?

L’il Trickshot: That is so bogus! Yo always lets us stay up for another half hour. More if we talk about bunnies.

L’il Ziles: Not going to bed! Not! Not! Waaaaaaaaggghhhhh!!!!

Dancer: Vizh, I’m trying to get L’il Finny out of the cupboard, but something super-strong inside seems to be holding it closed.

L’il Ziles (laying on the floor and hitting the carpet with her fists while kicking her feet): Not going! Waaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!

L’il Donar: It canest not be beddingtime anon, for we hast yet to fighteth crime today! Comest comrades, let is go and discover felons and kicketh their shins.

L’il Dark Knight (appearing from behind the sofa): Yeth. Letsth go and make the playthground safe for children everywherthe.

Dancer: Come back! You can’t fight crime with the brains of two year olds. Er, well, not with the bodies of two year olds.

CrazySugarFreakFrog: Ribbit!

[To be continued…]




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