Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Bacon!

[Tamar]

...said, "You... you really like it in here?"

"Well, certainly, my good pond," said a fish.

"It's... It's not too warm, or too cold, or too crowded, or too empty?"

"Pish-posh!" said another fish. "You're just right, I should say. Much better than that dreadful plastic bag in which I was transported here. Eh what, chaps?"

"Oh yes." "Rather." "Fine example of the classic utilitarian aquatic environment." "Quite," said the others.

Lynda smiled as she flicked an affectionate finger in the water. "And how do you feel now, pond?"

"I... I feel good about myself. I'm wet enough, I'm deep enough, and darn it, fish like me! Thank you, Lynda."


And so, yet another renovation accident chez Levac turned out, in the end, for the best. Especially as Charles was an indoor cat, and therefore the fish didn't need to worry about being eaten. (Although given how aristocratically fussy he'd always been about his food...yeah.)


In Belleville High happenings, opening night for Shakespeare's recently-discovered first play, Oops, I Soiled Me Britches, arrived. As students and their families filed into the auditorium, Machrie bit his nails backstage. Oh sure, he'd told himself that since this would be his last production at the school ("Stupid fungus!"), he didn't really care how it went. But now he found himself caring a great deal, especially because he unexpectedly spotted, in an empty audience seat near the front, the ghost of...

[Kamino Neko]

...his father.

Which was really, really weird, since his father was alive. (At least as of 5 minutes prior, when he last updated his Facebook status, which Machrie checked immediately after spotting the ghost. It was 'still disappointed in my son'.) He considered approaching the ghost, but didn't want to appear insane if nobody else could see it.

But, his nerves simply built as the play went on, until, during the scene where Fellatio convinces Butterfly to dress like him, so that he could go off and have a night out with Bates, instead of consummating his marriage, he finally approached the ghost.

'Papa?' He waved. The ghost nodded to him sternly. 'How are you enjoying the play, sir?'

The ghost looked at him, steadily. 'I love it, son. Finally, you've done something good, instead of choosing those boring plays that you need to dress up to make them entertaining. Had I a computer near by, I would update my status to "no longer disappointed in my son", but that'll have to wait.'

Machrie blinked, and smiled. 'Why, thank you, Papa. ... One thing, though?'

'What is it, son?'

'... Why are you a ghost?'

'Ah. Well, you see...

[Alice Macher]

...I'm not, actually. Still very much alive, thank you. I just happened to find this most interesting piece of cloth that a young, somewhat distracted-looking lady with dirty blonde hair dropped while walking arm-in-arm with a bizarre spider-haired--".

"Lisa." Calvin sighed. "So, this cloth?"

"It's what's draped over me right now, dear boy. It appears to have some sort of magical property that makes the wearer appear translucent." Papa Machrie poked his hand from underneath the cloth and wiggled his fingers. Opaque, not translucent. Then he drew it under the material again. Ghostly.

"Fascinating." Calvin's chin jerked upward as he had an idea. "Papa, may I please borrow this for the second part of the play? There's this one particular scene where I could put it to most amusing effect."

Papa Machrie thought a moment, tapping his translucent chin with a translucent finger. "Eh, why not. Now that I'm proud of you and all. Anything to make this wonderful comedy even more wonderful."

But... did it make it so? Let's find out! The scene, as it turned out, involved a ruse by Master Bates's clownish servant, Bagpippio (played by Stan), wherein he sought to bed Tribadine by...

[Tamar]

...disguising himself as the female angel Ruguel (not to be confused with Raguel) and claiming divine sanction for their union. (Yes, we know, not cool. Neither is a lot of the other stuff that goes on in Shakespearean comedies.)

"Here," said Machrie to Stan minutes before the scene in question. "Drape this over yourself for your disguise." He tossed the sheet to him.

Stan looked at it. "There are no eyeholes. The whole tucking thing was uncomfortable enough. Do I have to be blinded too?"

"Trust me," said the director. "You'll be able to see just fine through it. Put it on. Chop chop."

Yeah, thought Stan with a shudder, I gotta feeling 'chop chop' is gonna be the next thing this flake wants me to do. Nevertheless, he obeyed and took his place on stage, delivering Bagpippio's scuzzy speech of seduction to the understandably wary (and little-wearing) Tribadine:

"Fair Tribadine! I'm th' angel Ruguel,
Here to--what thy name says--with thee for a spell.
For so commands th' Almighty, Lord of Hosts.
Ah! Look not as if thou hast seen a--"

"GHOST!"

That last exclamation, coming from off stage left, was not in the text. But the audience at least, being unfamiliar with the play, didn't notice anything was wrong. Not even when Tiffany, wearing her MMAA mask with her Butterfly Venus costume, charged onstage, brandishing a prop sword, with which she began to hit Stan. Indeed, the audience roared with laughter, unaware that Stan's cries of fear and pain weren't an act.

Sara, however, could tell otherwise. For a moment, she took a mean-spirited pleasure in it, but then she remembered that Stan had changed and no longer deserved beatdowns. ("He never deserved those," said Aggie's voice in her head. "Shut up," Sara answered back, "I feel ashamed enough already.")

So Sara sprung into action and pulled Tiffany off Stan. Unfortunately, in the process, the hilt of Tiff's sword caught on Sara's not-quite-regulation-Elizabethan nightgown, and...

[Kamino Neko]

...gave the entire audience a very good view of her new (and totally not Elizabethan-themed) tattoo.

'Sara...er...sirrah,' Tiff suddenly remembered they were on stage, and began ad-libbing. 'Wherefor and why doth thou have that mark upon your flank? 'Twas not there before, on that I'll bank.'

Sara, recovering quickly from her embarrassment, covered herself, and thought a moment. 'Ah, dear Venus, my spirited fairy lass, do you really want to know 'bout the mark on my...

[Alice Macher]

..."Assent? Yes, I give assent to pressing charges of obscenity and contributing to the delinquency of minors! I warned him, I did."

Everyone turned to the auditorium entrance, through which Principal Armillaria had just burst, accompanied by FBI Agents Pat McBell and Marcia Veron.

"There he is!" The principal pointed a tendril at Machrie, who was trying to tiptoe out the exit. "Arrest that man."

"Freeze!" shouted McBell at the director. "Hands on your head."

"And for God's sake, Ms. Velte," said Veron, blushing (due to an unexpected flashback to her encounter with a hallucinating Michelle in the stream), "cover yourself a little better than that."

Lisa, popping up through the trap door, tossed Sara her hoodie. Sara smiled and mouthed, "Thank you," then pulled it over herself as far as it would go, and yanked Tiffany offstage with her.

As McBell led Machrie out in cuffs, the director's eyes met his father's.

"Well, papa," he said with a sigh. "I suppose you'll go back to being disappointed with me."

"Are you daft, boy?" said Papa Machrie. "I certainly...

[Kamino Neko]

...could not be disappointed in a son who commits to his art to the point of getting himself arrested. Good work, Calvin.'

'Ah, well, I suppose... Well, can I assume your lawyer will be paying me a visit?'

'Of course not. Who am I to stand in the way of my boy making a point?' Mr Machrie senior headed out of the auditorium.

'... Wait, Papa, I'm not--' Machrie sighed and held his hands out. 'Forget it. Take me away...'

Later, in lockup, Mr Machrie had quite a pleasant conversation with...

[Tamar]

...Elmer, whose legs had gotten him in trouble at a bar.

"Stupid legs. Wish you could be tried sep'rately from me," he said, sitting up against the back wall of the holding cell.

"Oh yeah?" said his left leg. "What if that meant we hadda be phys'cally separated from you? Like t' see you try t' get around then, asshole."

"There're these things called, y'know, wheelchairs," said Elmer. "Maybe I'da been better off with one o' them instead of two talkin' prosciutto limbs."

"That's 'prosthetic' limbs, you dumb shit," said his right leg.

"Dumb--? Hey, I ain't the one who got us in here by--"

"Excuse me," said Calvin. "Are you all right, son?"

"I'm okay, yeah," said Elmer. "It's these stupid talkin' legs o' mine. Hey, I know you. You're the drama director-guy from school. Mockery or somethin'."

"That's 'Machrie,' if you please, and the last time I heard that 'joke,' the Dead Sea was alive, okay?"

Elmer looked at him straightforwardly. "Wasn't jokin'. I just don't remember things that good. Sorry, dude."

"It's all right, lad. Now, what was that about your legs?"

Elmer groaned. "Lost my real ones in two diff'rent dumbass mishaps. Dumbass hospital somehow gave me a talkin' one both times. Say hello t' Mr. Machrie, legs."

"Sup," the legs said.

Machrie did a double-take. "Well, I'll be. That's remarkable."

"Yeah, they 'remarkably' got me arrested f'r startin' a bar fight."

"Hey," said the left leg. "You were the one wanted t' take us to a f*g bar."

"I wanted to go to a reg'lar bar!" said Elmer. "Is it my fault I couldn't tell a bar called Church of Man-Love wouldn't be a good place t' pick up girls?"

"I don't know about 'fault,'" said Machrie, "but it does suggest you're unfamiliar with the music of David Bowie, or at least with his Ziggy Stardust period." He sang the relevant line from "Moonage Daydream."

"...Huh. Guess I ain't familiar with it. But anyway, I wasn't the one who told a couple gay bikers t' go stuff their--"

"Er, yes, I get the idea."

The two of them (well, four, if you count Elmer's legs) were silent for a moment.

"So... you're a Bowie fan, huh?" said Elmer.

"Of sorts, yes," said Machrie, smiling. "I knew him, actually. --No, not like that, legs. Stop that. No, I'm straight. Rather, back in the early seventies, before I became a director, I was a glam rocker known as...

[Alice Macher]

...Oliver Oohlala."

"Pphhhhh... wha-a-a-a-at?" said Elmer, laughing. His legs joined in, too.

Machrie smiled. "Yes, really. See, glam was all the rage at the time, and being a glam rocker meant being outrageously outrageous! Big hair! Gaudy makeup! Tight shirts and pants! Stuffing of crotches! Quite simply, it was what you did back then if you wanted a shot at the top of the rock pyramid. Money. Fame. Women. Money. Cars. Women. Money."

"...Yeah. Yeah, I can see that. Wouldn't mind being rich an' famous an' covered in women an' cars myself. So, uh... how'd it work out for you?"

Machrie scratched the back of his head. "Not well, I'm afraid. I got booked on the Ziggy tour on account of my get-up and stage presence, but I could neither sing nor play guitar worth a crap. And in those days they didn't have Autotune or ProTools to make you sound like you could do either. So that's why I went into acting and, eventually, directing. Which worked out splendidly... until I was foolish enough to say yes to the job offer at one Belleville High." He hung his head.

"Yeah, our school does suck," said Elmer. "Stupid Giuliani. Just as well I never--"

"Hey! You with the glasses," said a guard, opening the cell door. "Your buddy Bob or somethin' just posted your bail. Get your ass out here."



"Tsk, Elmer," said Bob, hailing them a taxi. "Whatever am I to do with you?"

"It wasn't my fault this time, man! It was my dumbass legs! --OW! You fuckers collapse under me one more time, I swear I'll get a saw an'--"

"Whoa. Calm down, my friend. Let's get in the vehicle and you can tell me the whole story. Driver, Main and Centre, please."

So Elmer told him.. "Y' see the hell these legs put me through?" he said, when he was done. "Even when I, like, try not to be a jerkass, they just don't give a shit. What am I s'pposed to do about 'em?"

"Hm. What indeed. I must think on this."

Twenty seconds later, he had an answer. "That's it! We can deal with your uncouth, ruffian legs by...

[Kamino Neko]

...getting you some new shoes.'

'How will that help?'

'Well, that's the major cause of bad feet, you know, ill fitting shoes.'

'They're not bad feet, they're asshole legs.'

Lefty tried to kick Elmer in the ass, but the seat was in the way. 'Hey! Watch it! You're the one with the asshole, we don't go that high!'

'... Yes, well, they include your feet, and you need new shoes anyway.' Bob turned away and muttered something. It sounded like 'And a biohazard container. I don't know how you make them smell like that with no sweat glands in your feet...'

'Wassat?'

'Nothing. Driver! To the Sandalabra!'

'Opera? You said we was going for shoes, not fat chicks singing.'

Bob blinked slowly at Elmer. 'Not Opera, bro. Sandalabra. It's a pun on...ah, nevermind, I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. It's a shoe store, Elmer.'

'Oh. Cool.'

Soon enough, they pulled up outside the Sandalabra, only to find it was already swarming with...

[Tamar]

...the new fans Sara had gained since the play (and the relevant clip posted online, at least before Tiffany had YouTube take it down), once someone spotted her shopping there.

"Ladies! Gentlemen! Please!" said Sara, backed against the athletic shoes wall display. "I'm glad you like my butt. I like it too. But this really is neither the time nor place for this. The time and place, instead, will be my official appearance at...

[Kamino Neko]

...Ink, Inc., the tattoo parlour where I got the tattoo done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get some new shoes...'

'Speaking of the tattoo,' someone in the crowd shouted after her. 'What inspired you to get a picture of...

[Alice Macher]

...Wolfsbane of Marvel Comics?"

Sara smiled. "Rahne Sinclair inspires me. She's a young woman who's strong and fierce but also compassionate and in control of herself. She knows what it's like to be different from most other people. She's gone through some traumatic experiences growing up, but has emerged all the stronger for them. It was my girlfriend Tiffany who suggested her. She loves Rahne, and so do I. Also, her canine shape-shifting power reminds me of Lisa, the Thunderbolt Trickster, one of the best and truest friends I've been lucky to have."

She sniffled a bit. A number of people in the throng did, too.

"And besides," said Sara with a wink, "Wolfsbane in human form is totally hot, amirite? Now, if you'll please disperse so I can shop for shoes. Also so those two gentlemen there can get in to shop, too." She waved. "Hey, Bob." And, "Hello, Elmer," she added, perhaps marginally less warmly. "As for all of you folks, I'll see you at Ink, Inc. this Saturday between 1:00 and 3:00 P.M. Now...git!" She grinned mock-evilly.

At this, the crowd broke up and everyone went their separate ways, allowing Sara to shop in peace and Bob and Elmer to enter the store.

It took some doing, but Elmer finally found a pair of shoes that pacified his malcontent legs. But much more than that, it brought about another change in our favourite(?) doofus. You see, the shoes also made him...

[Kamino Neko]

...one hell of a dancer.

In fact, he began to boogie down right there in the Sandelabra. 'Aaah, man, I can't stop dancing!' (But, still...he was pretty awesome.)

'Told you you shouldn't have chosen re--' Bob glanced into the box. 'Oh, here's the controller.' He tapped the 'off' button, and Elmer dropped into a chair.

'Thanks, man.' He caught the controller, when Bob tossed it to him. 'You know what?'

'I know a lot of things.' Bob - king of modesty. 'What, specifically do you refer to?'

'I just thought, I can totally use these to my advantage.'

'Impressing women? Entering and winning a dance contest?'

'Pft. No, man. I can...

[Tamar]

...go into the wine-makin' business."

"The wine-mak...?" Bob facepalmed. "Elmer. No one, at least not on anything like a mass-production scale, uses their feet to press grapes anymore. There are machines which do that."

"Really?" said Elmer. "Wow. What'll they think of next, huh? Well... um... maybe I can become a cop or a prison guard an' use these shoes to stomp on troublemakers' hea... aaaaaand you're shakin' your head. Bad idea?"

"Leaving aside the whole brutality thing? Yes, it's a bad idea, because when you're in a law-enforcement job, you have to wear the uniform you're issued. That includes the shoes." Bob rubbed his temples. "Why don't we go back to the dancing competition idea for a moment?"

"Ahhh," said Elmer, waving his hand downward. "That shit ain't for real men."

"Ha ha ha! So, you think dancing is unmanly, do you? Well." Bob put his arm on his best bud's shoulder. "Let me tell you about a certain nation of men, and we'll see whether you doubt their maleness or toughness or whatever. I refer, of course, to the Nile Valley culture known as the Dancers of...