Tales of the Parodyverse

Dancer/spiffy April Fools Special #6: “Friends You Choose, Families Are Hereditary”


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Dancer, via HH
Sun Aug 03, 2003 at 05:01:45 pm EST
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Dancer/spiffy April Fools Special #6: “Friends You Choose, Families Are Hereditary”



[The Scene: Sarah Shepherdson, secretly the Probability Dancer, is making a long-distance phone call to Ireland]

Sarah: Hello? Mum? I’m just calling to let you know there’s a little problem with Kerry. You know how you sent her to Parodiopolis to get her away from those bad influences that encouraged her to set fire to the school, and blow up the supermarket, and take that tank for a test drive without asking permission first, and that thing with the Milk Marketing Board and the flammable Armenian? Well it seems we might have a bit of trouble here too. You see she’s kind of run away cross-country with the Mayor of, well, nearly everywhere, taking a consignment of what according to this rather shadowy superhero the Dark Knight are biogenic plasma disruptor cannons from an alien planet dedicated to war and mass destruction. We, um, we don’t know why yet, although I suppose it’s possible she wants them for display purposes only. Anyway, the FBI are looking for this Mayor spiffy, who’s really a sweet guy with a fern on his head, you’d like him mum if he hadn’t run off with your underaged delinquent younger daughter, really you would. Also the CIA are looking for Kerry because she’s taking weapons of mass destruction across state lines without a license or, in fact, any understanding of what would happen if one of them got dropped or shaken too much. And SPUD are looking for both of them because, well, that’s SPUD for you and everyone else is doing it. Oh, and most of the major-league supervillains are trying to find them as well, because it turns out this shipment was not only stolen from a top secret highly deniable government base but also from the people who stole them from the top secret highly deniable government base. But I don’t want you to worry, mum. Okay? Call you next week.

Sarah: Yes. That’s what I’ll say. Now just to dial.

Sarah, banging head on wall: Why, why, why aren’t I getting caught up in another apocalypse so I don’t have to call my mother. Where’s Red Watchman when you really need him??

Evil Sarah: You could just disappear, reinvent yourself in another identity and continue to fight crime as the dark vigilante Wonderwaitress.

Good Sarah: There’s a good Sarah?

Sarah: My mother would track me down. She’d track me down and talk at me. Ask me why I haven’t got a husband yet.

Evil Sarah: Good point.

Good Sarah: Why hasn’t anybody told me I existed before this?

Sarah: So. Just dial, Sarah. Perhaps it’ll be the answer service. Or your brother. Or there’ll be an EMP explosion that destroys the world communications system.

Evil Sarah: You could do that, you know.

Good Sarah: I mean, with a little prior warning I could have come up with all sorts of arguments about why you have to tell your mother the truth. Done my job right.

Sarah: Shut up, internal voices. Dialling now. *dials*

Sarah: Hi, mom. You know you used to have two daughters…?

Sarah, listens: ………….

Sarah: Ah. Well, sorry to wake you up, grumpy-sounding German man. Wrong number. But on the up side, you’re nicer-sounding than my mother. Bye now.

Sarah: This is ridiculous. How hard can it be to just tell her the facts? Just say, Mum, your psychotic younger daughter is about to destroy North America. What would you like for your birthday present this year?

Sarah, dialling again: Hi. Mum? Oh, it is you, mum. It’s Sarah.

Sarah: Yes, that Sarah. Yes, I know international call rates aren’t that expensive. I don’t think it’s fair to call me long-lost. I just…

Sarah: No mum. No, Joe’s interested in another girl. We’re just good friends. We…

Sarah: I don’t know what kind of sex they’re having, mum. No, no I haven’t given the whole cow away, whatever that means. Anyway, what I was calling to tell you was…

Sarah: Mr Papadapopolis is happily married with eleven children, mother. And he’s thirty years older than me. But I wanted to tell you…

Sarah: Dancing is a career, mum. The waitressing is just until I…

Sarah: No, I don’t spend all my time on casting couches… No, I don’t think I should spend more time on them…

Sarah: That sounds like a very nasty complaint Auntie Brigit’s got. I’d get her to see a doctor before it explodes all over the wallpaper. Really. And to avoid prodding it. But mum, I called to tell you something important.

Sarah: No, mum, a handsome millionaire did not walk into the coffee bar. And even if he did offer me a million dollars to sleep with him I wouldn’t do it. Unless he was very very handsome, and they needed to re-roof the Homeless Shelter or something...

Sarah: Mother! I’m trying to explain about Kerry!

Sarah: No, I really don’t think a psychologist is the answer. I was thinking a baseball bat, or maybe a pre-frontal lobotomy was the answer, actually. But what I was trying to explain was that’s she’s eloped!

Sarah: Yes, I know she’s found a husband and I don’t even have a boyfriend, mum.

Sarah: No, I don’t know much about his parents, mum. I think his father was an archvillain but he got disowned. Or retconned. I’m not really clear on it. I really couldn’t answer the tattoos question. But mother…

Killer Shrike: Excuse me. Sarah Shepherdson?

Sarah: Oh, thank goodness. Look, I’ve got to go mum. It’s a supervillain who owes me money.

Sarah: I don’t know if he’s seeing anyone. Good-bye mother!

Killer Shrike: Sorry to interrupt. Um, it’s sort of a good news bad news thing. On the good news, here’s your $118.

Sarah: Thanx. What’s the bad news?

Killer Shrike: I’m here to kidnap you.

Sarah: Okay. Have you time for a sandwich first?

Killer Shrike: To kidnap you. You heard me, right?

Sarah: Sure. You hears the sandwich offer?

Killer Shrike: I hate the Parodyverse.

[To be continued in #7, the previously-advertised “Why Am I the Only One Without Anything Attached To The Top of My Head?”. It’s already written, and I’ve told HH he can post it just as soon as there’s ten replies to this story. So there! ]



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