FSN Goes to the Pantdraken

[fsn]

Scene 6: The Final E

As is the nature of these things, and because if they hadn't this wretched piece of rubbish would have no end, FSN and Bert found themselves at the wedding.

As they entered they were announced by a liveried flunkey, He wore a pink periwig under a too, too cute pink tricorne hat, and matching pink tailed coat over a ruffled shirt in oyster. His legs were encased in oyster coloured silk breeches and gleaming white stockings. His feet were sensibly snuggled into fluffy slippers with a cuddly Atilla the Hun motif.

"Afternoon Fenton." Greeted Bert.

"Peter Pig off." Responded the ridiculous figure. "Got to announce you. Now stand back ..." And he opened his gob and made a loud noise. It was a job he had been born to play.

"My lords, ladies, gentlemen and imaginary characters of all ilks!" He called in italics so we can all see it later on. "May I present Mr or Mrs FSN, and Bert the British Paratrooper with Sten, BR11."

Bert and FSN glided in, keen to join the thong. Unfortunately that was a typo, so they joined the throng instead. The room hand been decorated by BigJackMac – missile trails of all colours were artfully draped around columns and across the ceiling.

"My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen – presenting a few easy ones to begin with. Mr. Norman Knight and Mrs Sippirifleman."  

All the Forum members were there – Dan J in another one of his own cellophane creations, Ianr54 was dancing with the Lady Ithoriel - possibly unaware of her true nature, and Skywalker was showing off as usual – juggling with a billiard ball, a live chicken and a light sabre.


"Nobs, totty and  geezers! Mr and Mrs Illery, with their son Arthur who has a sore throat – that's the hoarse Art Illery."

"Every year!" Tutted Bert, to sounds of a chicken being distressed by the misplacement of a billiard ball.

"A right lot here – the Scun family – Lewis, Tommy, Bren and the one who took to the church, the Vicar Scun."

Tawa, Orcs and Sandy appeared, bearing trays of comestibles.

"Wine?" proffered Tawas.
"Canape?" offered Orcs.
"These?" Tendered Sandy, stumped for a short description of pineapple, cheese and a cocktail onion on a cocktail stick.

"Oi, you lot! From the Luftwaffe we have the Messrs Schmitt and Dawn Neer.

FSN and Bert politely declined with fists and knees and made their way to the bar. There, Washerwoman Lemmey was doling out glasses of strangely coloured liquids. She had changed into a suitable outfit for a barmaid – low cut, high on the thigh and tight as a miser's grip on a penny.

*Burp* "Presenting Lord and Lady Ade, and their ancient Chinese relative Han Gran Ade, and while we're on that one, The Right Honourable Adeer and his patriot nanna, the British Gran Adeer."  

Bert drifted off to see if he could find the Oriental Westie, and was disappointed to find her snogging the Duck. However he began to follow d_Mary's giggle in the hopes that she could perhaps perform another kind of belly dance.

"All right, leave it! ... Yeah I know how to do it ... My Lords, Laddies and others. Presenting little Mannie, who is very pretty, but in a foul temper. The cross beau, Man, accompanied by some tart from the docks, Marie Nexpeditionaryforce."

FSN wandered aimlessly around the party. He drank the bubbling – and steaming pink liquid he had secured from Washerwoman and looked around for a friendly face. Bert was at the buffet. He muttered something.

"Naw then. Returning is Mr Gofausberg, who looks like he's been in a bit of a punch up. Yes, it's bloody Lee Gofausberg again."

"Sorry Bert?"

"I was just saying how these sandwiches were Dixon good. Really nice bread. Very moist and tasty. Guy who baked it really knew what he was doing"

"Yeah?" Said FSN wearily.

"Master baker."

"It's the German-Greek Mr Zerfor, with his goaty legs and way with the ladies. If you haven't worked it out yet, it's Pan Zerfor."

FSN spotted Lad, now resplendent in the same outfit as before, except possibly shorter and in white, and with a cat skin cape. Lad looked nervous.

"Kallistra – who makes up this rot? Mrs and Mrs Zantinesareinthepipeline, and their daughter who goes both ways, the Bi Zantaniesareinthepipeline, with her partner for tonight Wendy Heckarependrakengoingtomakebyzantines. It's all Greek to me."

"What ho, Lad!"

"Oh hello ..." Lad looked at FSN "Thingy. I'm a bit nervous. It's my wedding day, you see." Bert appeared from nowhere with what looked suspiciously like a veil wrapped around his Sten.

"One down, six to go!" He hinted, archly. "So who's the Minifigging bride then?" He asked, lighting up.

"Right. Miss Zonescale with her deity, God Zonescale and looking bronzed, Miss Hope Light."

"Oh! I've not met her before, she's called Millie!" FSN and Bert looked at each other.

"Are you listening? It's you own time you're wasting if you aint Minifigging listening ... Mr. Cass Ianbowman ... I'm sorry, he's been recently knighted ... Sir Cass Ianbowman, accompanied by his long time and aged partner from the peerage, the Old Count Emptable."

"This is about to get interesting." Said Bert and slid off in the hunt for more veils.

"Right a few more before I get blasted – Mr Barry Oooka, but just call him Baz. Sidney Mluke and his exotic Eastern mother the Ma Mlulke. Mr Lewaygun (BP56), and his blind, piano playing, but very well endowed son – 14" Ray Lewaygun (BP56)"

At a fanfare from some unseen instruments, no doubt played by the mini-factotums Sandy, Orcs and Tawa, the crowd was still. A hitherto unseen door opened and in came the Canadian and Mexican, in the same outfits as before, but shorter and in Pink. After the sighs of appreciation had died down Millie was drawn in to the room in a gold and white carriage drawn by Manoferran, the Panty-Mime Norse. She descended gracefully and stood expectantly scanning the crowd.

Bert urged Lad forward with the butt of his Sten. Lad smiled nervously at Millie, who flashed an brilliant smile in return.

"Well Dixon me! There are two of them. That can only mean that Leon's in for trouble." He elbowed FSN in the ribs, partly to get his attention, but partly because he liked seeing him in pain. FSN though, was deep in thought. One stray notion had woken up, possibly because of the steaming drink of whatever the Washerwoman had given him, and he was trying to form it into a coherent idea.  

A shambling figure in a mitre was pushed forward. He was incredibly ancient and had the confused expression of the imbecilic. Obviously, he was high up in some church. Which one, Bert wasn't sure because he didn't know of any clergy that wore Rupert the Bear pyjamas.

"Gentle and ... you know the others ..." began the grey haired wreck.

"Oh Leman!" Breathed Bert. "You should never have given up on that Puritanism."  

"Umm.. " continued Archthingy Leman "We are here to  lay to rest ..." he looked at the confused faces of the audience and tried another tack. "It is with great joy ... where is the baby?"

"'bout nine months away!" Called a wag from the crowd. (It was Westmarcher, breaking character. Can't trust him to do anything right!)

"Ah! Wedding it is. Do you ... well do you? Have you? Oh you should it's great fun. So does anyone here have an object? Does anyone object to the Union or the Confederates?"

"Does a Luke and Leia situation count?" Asked Bert, introducing a third Star Wars reference into the piece. FSN's thought had got out of bed and was scratching its belly.

"So, will you *crump* and will she? Well I bet she will? Where is Will anyway? He's a good lad in a tight situation. So ... are you two still here? I'd have thought you would have, well you would have wouldn't you? Well I would, I think I did once, but that may have been Pendrakenmas."  

"Just tell him to kiss the bride then we can all get Dixoned!" Shouted Bert. By now, FSN's brain process had brushed its teeth and was contemplating porridge or toast for breakfast.  

"Certainly. Pucker up!" commanded the aged cleric.

There happy couple complied. The guests applauded politely, then there came the inevitable "what  do we do now?" silence. It was at that point that FSN thought put in a spurt and came to fruition.

"PITHEAD!" he roared. "Rhymes with 'Spithead', starts with a 'P' it's PITHEAD!" in his joy he raced around the room, grasping random people by the shoulders and yelling "PITHEAD!" into their faces, until he was stopped by Bert who, it has to be said with great relish battered him into unconsciousness with his Sten.

"At last." He said, with grim satisfaction.

The uncomfortable moment was deflated by the sound of a balloon on a cat's belly. Leon stood there, resplendent in red taffeta. He'd had to change because he'd found something unpleasant on the hem of his white gown after he'd visited Techno's cave. For information, the dress had to be destroyed. At his heels lay Dave, who'd been let out for the night.

"Ladies, Gentlemen." He began, in a soft yet commanding voice. All faces turned to him. All ears strained to catch his words.

"It is Pendrakenmas, and we all know the true meaning of Pendrakenmas." Confused murmuring in the audience suggested that the real meaning of Pendraknmas had escaped them. Leon sighed. So much to do, so many idiots to do it to.

"The real meaning of Pendrakenmas is being kind to our friends." The confused murmuring could have led one to believe that being kind wasn't in most peoples' top ten.

"And so," continued Leon, wishing he'd opted for a mince pie and Call of Duty 4 instead of this, "I want you all to welcome Techno, and his air band." He began the applaud, which slowly built up. Then someone started cheering so when the fireworks went off and Techno made his entrance the crowd was screaming and stamping their feet. A pair of mysterious undergarments, possibly Lady Ithoriel's slopped in front of Techno as he made his way to the stage.

He threw back his cape. His nipples were rouged. Even that didn't put off the crowd who were now beyond sanity. He played for them then. He played Yes, he played early Genesis, he played Wishbone Ash, he played Arsenal in the quarter final, and he played a little bit of Abba, because that's what he loved best.  The crowd swayed to his silence. They air-clapped along with his absence of sound. They slow danced to his quietude.  Candles appeared and soon all Techno could see was a field of lights. He was finally, truly happy.



FSN woke. He had a massive headache. Unfortunately, he wasn't with the Canadian, but, he mused philosophically, he wasn't in the Washerwoman's bed either. He was back in his own bed, and the only one with him, the only one he really wanted with him, was Raggy Phil.

"It must nearly be time to go see Dr Petal." He thought. "I wonder why her beard tickles that way."

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

A suitable finale, well played sir!

[skywalker]

Great read, the Christmas highlight on Pendraken Forum 

[fsn]

Thank you, I hope you enjoyed it.


Now step away from the chicken.

[Techno]

You've done us proud, Nobby.  
Cheers - Phil.

(PS...My nipples aren't rouged.....a 10A blade shattered and came back and hit me in the chest.  ...... )

[fsn]

Oh yeah? Well why was Mrs T complaining about small hairs in her favourite lipstick?

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

How do 10as do that! Mine are always going at random times!

[Westmarcher]

And then I realized--like I was shot...like I was shot with a diamond...a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought, My God, the genius of that, the genius, the will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure.
                                                                                          - Colonel Kurtz (Apocalypse Now)

         


pssst! [from sidelines stage left] ...... what? ...... what's that you say? ...... he wasn't talking about the Pantdraken ...... oh .... anyhoo, jolly good show, fsn! Bravo!

[Techno]

Oh yeah? Well why was Mrs T complaining about small hairs in her favourite lipstick?  

Mrs T ?

Don't think she's GOT any lipstick.


Anyway......

I should not have chosen a song that doesn't scan, or rhyme easily, to play 3 different air guitars to.
(I just cannot get a couple of the lines to work.....So feel free to offer alternative suggestions.  

With apologies to Messrs Plant, Page, Jones and Bonham.........


There's a gamer who plays, with his soldiers most days,
and he's buying the tanks of Pendraken.
When a parcel arrives, he just feels so alive,
'Cos the Dark Lord has sent him his order.

Ooooh.....Ooooh.....and he's buying the tanks of Pendraken.


There's a sign on the door, says 'Don't slip on the floor'.
And don't knock any dice from the table.
If you want to join in, there's more troops in that tin,
But be careful, their bases aren't stable.

Ooooh....He makes me wonder,
Ooooh....Nobby makes me wonder.

There's a feeling he gets, when he fails his troops' tests,
and his luck often feels it's all leaving.
He rolls dice by the score, some end up on the floor,
'Cos the table he uses is heaving,

Ooooh...He makes me wonder.
Ooooh...He really makes me wonder.

And it's thought, that if soon, we retire from his room,
then poor Nobby will start to see reason.
His new game will begin, maybe this time he'll win.
(But does fighting yourself count as treason ?)

(More air guitar bits)

If there's a mishap in the fable, don't be alarmed now.
It's just a cat jumped on the table.
Yes, there are two ways that he can win now, but in the long run
do we all think that he'll be able ?

And he makes me wonder.

His head is spinning: It's the pink pills, in case you don't know,
the Duckman's calling on the phone now.
So, Nobby, can you hear the paint dry, and did you try,
What all those painters on the forum say....

And as we leave our Nobby's house.
(Just creep out quieter than a mouse.)
There stands the gamer we all know,
who wrote the Panto just to show,
Our forum members are pure gold.
And if we listen to his prose,
the giggles come to us, at last.
When we're all sane, (There's not much hope),
To have a laugh, and never troll...........

And he's buy....iy...ing the tanks, .......Of Pendrak...en.

Happy Christmas, Gang.

Cheers - Phil.

[d_Guy]

Not since "The Masque of the Red Death" has there been such an assemblage! Poignant and redolent of Bon Ami (and here I think of the cleanser). It did not disappoint (for nipples have again crept in) - but hark - a final message of good cheer!
Well done Sir - Oh well done!

And then an ode - The Saga of Nobby - rendered my the inestimable Techno (Raggy P)

Peace be upon thee all,

(And I now embrace the horror and sign myself)
d_Mary

[Duckman]

Brilliant FSN,  Thanks for putting me in the Panto.

Erm, Next time can you make sure i get off with the stunning redhead ?? Pleeeeeease. 

[Orcs]

Love the lyrics Techno

[Westmarcher]

(And I now embrace the horror and sign myself)
d_Mary

Looks like my 2 votes paid off after all. 

[paulr]

Well done FSN, great lyrics Techno

[fsn]