Dancer #25: Dancer's Unstoppable Adversary


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Posted by Special made-it-to-#25-celebration-issue with the special shocking character development (well, it was time we had one in 25 issues, right??) on April 20, 2001 at 15:47:44:

Dancer #25: Dancer's Unstoppable Adversary

[The scene: An evil archvillain’s headquarters. There is the standard control panel and video screen, the underlings; chairs that drop down into the lava pits, and a tank of tropical fish. There is always a tank of tropical fish. There is also a big white cat, but since this is a particularly nasty archvillain, it is currently going round and round in the microwave.]

Magenta St Evil (for it is she): I have done it! I have found the perfect way to destroy Dancer!

Nameless minion, who does not need a name since he will die as soon as the villainess gets cross: You have, mistress? But I thought her probability powers prevented you using your abilities to make all superbeings act like early-90’s Image characters.

Magenta St Evil: I have found the one force she cannot counter… and bought that force an air ticket to Parodiopolis. Oh, and for daring to question me put yourself in the microwave when the cat is done. Ten minutes, extra crispy.

Nameless minion: Yes mistress *sob*

[Meanwhile, at the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar in central Parodiopolis (according to HH’s map of the city), mild-mannered waitress Sarah Shepherdson goes to serve the lady on table number three]

Dancer; Hi! Welcome to the Bean n’ Donut. I’m Sarah and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you a… Mother!!! What are you doing here??

Old Mother Shepherdson: So it’s come to this has it Sarah? Waiting tables in a seedy coffee shop.

Mr Papadapopolis: Hey! Is not seedy coffee shop! Is top class.

Old Mother Shepherdson glares at Mr Papadapopolis. Mr Papadapopolis hides.

Sarah: Why are you here, mother? How did you get here from old Ireland? Who is looking after Karl? Why are you checking for dust under the table??

Old Mother Shepherdson: You call this clean? I am very disappointed in you, Sarah. I suppose there’s no sign of a dancing career yet? Or a proper job, maybe?

Sarah: Mother, people are watching!

Old Mother Shepherdson: What, you’re ashamed of your old mother now, is that it? Too good for us back home now you have gone to the big city and made it big in the waitressing profession?

Sarah: It’s not like that, mom. Look, can we go somewhere private and…

Old Mother Shepherdson: And whatever happened to that nice young man you were dating? Or did you scare him off too?

Sarah: He stole all my CDs, maxxed my credit cards, asked me to become a stripper, and nearly got me killed by the mob. Then he ran off. No wonder you liked him.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Well pardon me if I want to be a grandmother before I’m a hundred. Are there no nice young men in this city who want to marry a nice Irish girl? What about one of those two handsome fellows in the corner? Hey, you…!

[Sound of fire exit being ripped off its hinges by sudden exit]

Sarah: *sigh* And Mr Burch and Mr Dean didn’t even finish their crullers.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Well there must be someone, Sarah, even if you do insist on wearing all those tatty clothes and having hair like rats’ tails. Now that I’m visiting we’ll see if we can’t get your life sorted out.

Sarah: Mother, I don’t need…

Old Mother Shpeherdson: Don’t you tell your old mother what you need, my girl. I know what you need, and you’ll jolly well have it or I will take you over my knee and give you a good spanking. Is that one of your customers choking?

Sarah: That’s just Mr Foxglove. I think his ice cream went down the wrong way. But mother…

Old Mother Shepherdson: I mean it, Sarah. You’re not getting any younger, you know. A nice man will settle you down and then you can get on with making a home and giving me some grandchildren. Let me just have a look at these so-called customers of yours. I’m sure there must be one of them who…

[All men in the diner raise their hand]

Sarah, getting desperate: This… this really isn’t necessary, mom. Honest. I. er, I already have a boyfriend. A fiancée. Really.

Old Mother Sheperdson, suspiciously: Really? Why didn’t you mention this in your letters home? Who is he? What’s his name?

Sarah, seizing on first name that comes to mind: Er Joe. Joe Pepper.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Really. Sounds like a made up name to me.

Sarah: No, honestly mum. It’s short for Joseph.

Old Mother Shepherdson: And what does he do, this Joseph of yours?

Sarah: He’s a burger flip… er, he has a very important job. Really.

Old Mother Shepherdson, impatiently: Well?

Sarah: He’s an associate of the mayor. Of Gothametropolis. He works with Mayor spiffy… Mayor Hopkins. He’s a very important man, working for another very important man. He has a great future. And… and he collects antiques. You should see his antique knife collection. He calls it Knifey.

Old Mother Shepherdson: Hmmm. Come then, Sarah. Take me now to meet my future son-in-law.

Sarah, shuddering: And Manny thought he had trouble when he only had to worry about the Hooded Hood.

[Meanwhile again, back in the archvillain’s lair]

Magenta St Evil: Prepare the Liefieldiser. While Dancer is… occupied, I shall take this opportunity to transform Parodiopolis into a gritty post-apocalyptic wasteland. [looks round] Damn. Out of minions and flunkies. And I bet the electric bill for that microwave will be huge as well.

To be continued tomorrow in our next gripping instalment: “My Fiancée is a Knife-Wielding Elvis Fetishist”



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