Scene 1: Recap

Rhomande: Well, my beloved audience, it seems that Ironheel’s Imperial Posthe has extricated themselves from quite a sticky situation.  But that’s not nearly as important as the fact that my Insufferable Basterds are currently suffering an ecological disaster.  You see, Imenand still has trust issues with foodstuffs, so he’s seen fit to Blight the alconut supply, all across Penguidise Island!  I keep trying to tell him, that an alconut is not a “foodstuff” per se, because nobody in their right mind would try to eat the flaky, white flesh of the fruit.  Since we primarily use the nuts for their alcohol content, they should technically be categorized as “drinkstuffs”.  Furthermore, Master Shenouda seems unwilling to accept the fact that he can use the alcohols within the nuts as fuels for his bunsen burners and other––ahem––manufactory equipments.  Ah, well.  Here’s Hera Laris and the Chip Dipson Memorial Action Town Criers, to catch you up on recent events with Ironheel’s Posthe.  What’s the news, Hera?

((Music: Ben Briggs – Star Clash Theme))

Hera: Thank you, Rhomande.  Tonight’s top story recounts the latest clash between Ironheel’s Imperial Task Posthe and Morellian, the Sorceror-Prince of Malbalindhe (MAL-buh-LIN-they).  A skirmish on the Seas of Madness may have imperiled relations between Malbalindhe and the Empire, yet few details are available.  We go now to The Wiz with those few details.

The Wiz: Thanks, Pally!  Well, that albino weirdo – the tall one, not the short one – well, he and his band of pirates started pursuing Ironheel and his Imperial Posthe, and it’s all because Portia Fireleaf can't drive a freakin’ boat straight!  So, anyway that Morellian guy got mad and chased the Posthe until he got so tired that he just decided to summon a giant water demon to chase our guys instead.  I’m pretty sure that after that, Morellian went home, had a chalice of wine, put his feet up onto his favorite slave, and listened to the new album that Rhomande just dropped last week.  Gods, but he’s dreamy!

Hera: Morellian sounds more like a flatulent layabout, if you ask me.  Fie!  Fie, I say, upon any being who uses sorcery to avoid completing their tasks with their own two hands!

The Wiz: Uh… No, Pally.  I think you got your pronoun antecedents all mixed up.  I was saying that Rhomande – you know… the guy what I was talking about last before I said “he”– he’s the dreamy one!

Hera: Oh.  My apologies for the misunderstanding, The Wiz, but I still disagree.  Rhomande is more a nightmare tempest of sound, fury, and hair-stiffening product.

Rhomande: This is your first and only warning, Hera.  Keep that up, and I’ll turn your party into the Dipson-Laris Memorial Action Town Criers!  Well… maybe I won’t do it myself… maybe I can use magic to avoid completing this task with my own two hands…

Hera: (under her breath) Fie!

Rhomande: What was that?

((Sfx: d20 roll))

Hera: I said it’s high time we wrapped up this news report.  Any other pertinent pieces of information, The Wiz?

Rhomande: Oh!  Well, that’s fine, then.  Yeah, The Wiz!  Like she asked: is there anything else that my beloved audience needs to know about recent events in That World Which Contains Those Young Kingdoms?

The Wiz: Ohgodsohgodsohgods!  Rhomande just said my name!  Rhomande knows my name! Squeeeee!

Hera: Composure, the Wiz.  Composure.

The Wiz: Fine, fine.  Alright, Pally.  Keep your tunic on and don’t get your burlap panties in a twist.

Hera: My unmentionables are made of hessian, thank you very much.  Not burlap.  Now cease mentioning my unmentionables and get back to the news, young lady!

Hera: (alt. line) My unmentionables are made of the finest silks, thank you very much.  Not burlap.  Now cease mentioning my unmentionables and get back to the news, young lady!

The Wiz:  Let’s see, uh… Oh, right!  The whole reason the Imperial Posthe started running away in the foist place was ‘cuz of the Emperor calling back all the Task Forces, Strike Teams, and Peregrine Armies for the united defense of the Holy City of Sahn Daskaar!  Alright, Pally, I’m done with the report.  Back to you, or whatever, while I put on my best pair of bobby socks, cast Mirror Images, and try to get as many copies of Rhomande’s autograph as I can!

((Sfx: mirror images, maybe a second or two of Multiwiz?))

Multiple The Wiz: and try to get as many copies of Rhomande’s autograph as I can!  So whaddaya say, Mister Rhomande?  Will ya sign our autograph books?  Please?  Pleeeeease?  Pretty please, on top of a slice of plum pudding that’s soaking in brandy?

Rhomande: After the show, dearies.  After the show.  You only barely just threw back to Lady Hera, and we haven’t even given her time to throw to commercial yet.  Speaking of which…  Hera?

Hera: Thank you, The Wiz and Rhomande.  When we return, we will go to The Vengeful Ghost of Adanska Rothgeld with this week’s EctoBall Pre-Season highlights.  But first, a word from our sponsors.

Rhomande: Lords and ladies of my beloved audience, please do recline upon your gilded seats, quaff your libations, and adjust your listening devices that you may fully lose all senses of Ego, Desire, and Self as you enjoy your evening at The 20-Sided Theatre.