The Sue Booster
A Parody of the Choosing Part 1
In Dragon City, there stands a great citadel. Menacing in its appearance, it frightens away most visitors, leaving it’s occupants free from door to door salesmen. Its many pointed spires arch towards the sky above. Within the sinister structure, stands Word Paynn. Standing at rapt attention not too far from him, is his son, Moordryd Paynn. Moordryd is poised with a fuzzy pen and notepad, ready to instantly take down any instructions or facts his father happens to offhandedly refers to in his various ramblings which doesn’t always have anything to do with what they were talking about.
Meanwhile, his busy bee father fiddles with a hunk of junk…er, his latest invention he had put together last night in his sleep. Which proved to be rather difficult, even for him.
Word straightened as he quickly and nimbly finished his fiddling. He put down his fiddle and turned to his son. Moordryd frowned when he realized music time was over. “Now my son. Here.” Word moved over to a wall in his citadel, where a most curious contraption was set up.
“Now what is that?” Moordryd asked, flipping his stupendous hair.
“This, oh. I found it in my attic.”
“We have an attic?”
“I do. You don’t,” Word said, patting the contraption with affection. “This is a film projector.” Word smiled, apparently pleased at his chance discovery.
“Isn’t that…old?” Moordryd disproved of the rusty machine.
“Yes it is,” Word stated, “but it will do for my purpose. I have a movie to show you.”
“On that thing? Why not use your VIDDscreens?”
“Because, I found a movie along with it. Isn’t it fetching?” Word giggled as he held up the old roll of film. It looked dusty, broken, disgusting and smelled even worse. “I find old things interesting. It’s like an antique.”
“So are you.” Moordryd mumbled into his notepad where he had started to doodle. Word, in his old age, didn’t hear his son. He put the film into the device. It projected an image onto the citadel wall. Word stood at immediate attention, and Moordryd followed suite, poised once again with his pink fuzzy pen.
A large number three appeared, signaling a countdown, like in all old movies. Soon the two and one passed, and Word began narrating. The movie showed carved images showing distant events of the past.
“Three thousand, two hundred and eleven years ago, a great dragon-human war threatened to rip apart the planet.” Word said in a bleak voice as more images showed up. “Indeed, everything was in utter chaos. All the people lived in fear, every store had closed, and yes, even Dragbucks. No one was able to get their coffee. The world was at the end of hope. WHICH WAS VERY BAD!” Word overstated and turned back toward Moordryd to make sure he got the point.
“No coffee, very bad,” Moordryd said as he wrote in his notepad.
“But a single golden dragon, the last of its kind, chose a human to be his hero-a Sue Booster. This Sue Booster and the last dragon released the full power of the sue…and stopped the fight by turning all dragons back to gold!” Now, as Word said the last words, a truly superb image appeared on the wall. Even Moordryd could see the perfect proportions, gleaming suit, brave pose and cheesy smile-all indicating only one thing, the Sue Booster!
“So pretty…” Moordryd gawked in awe.
“The Sue Boos….oh fudge!” Word moaned as the old film burst into flames, completely ruining the presentation.
“Is that it?” Moordryd questioned as his father tried to blow into the fire and put it out. Sadly, he only succeeded in fanning the flames.
“No, it was going to say a lot more about the ancient history and Dragbucks…but I guess you’ll have to live without that knowledge,” Word mumbled as he coughed on the smoke and flapped his hands in front of his face. “At any rate…*cough*…I have learned…*cough*…that that ancient old…*hack*…gold-boned dragon has been bred back into existence.”
“Oh really?” Moordryd asked, impressed. “This is great! Did the breeder win an award? Surely he must….”
“No!” Word yelled. “This isn’t good! This stupid dragon will interrupt my plans!”
“Oh, of course,” Moordryd replied.
“My dear old friend, Connor Penn, has done it,” Word snarled. “He’s holding ‘secret’ auditions for riders. Fortunately I know everything and learned of this. I want you to disguise yourself as an elite-class racer, and infli…inful…infiltra…be very sneaky and slip into his racing stable, unnoticed. Then you shall take the gold dragon.”
“Don’t tell me how to steal dragons, father. My down city crew buddies and I have been stealing them for you for about…three months now.” Moordryd said as he counted on his fingers and held up two.
Word, the old twit, began to grow angry. “This gold dragon must not choose a Sue Booster! That dragon is the only thing that can stop me. I will start a new dragon-human war, close all the Dragbucks and start my own chain of coffee shops. And when the war ends, the people will have only one place to go for coffee. I will rule the world!” Moordryd grew slightly frightened at his father’s outburst. But nothing scared him more than the ominous music that then echoed throughout the citadel. Word shrieked. Apparently it had startled him as well.
“Traffic is snarled at Dragway 1138,” came a newscasters voice, “I dunno if it’s the heat or the beans, but phew! Those dragons are acting crazy and stinking up the track! And now the street racing news…Kitt Wonn is still the point leader, she’s blowin’ away the competition in the last three races, completely ruining their hair….”
And, unbeknownst to many, sitting in a corner of Penn Stables, is Artha Penn, son of Connor Penn, son of who knows what. Slacking off and playing a VIDDgame, Artha cheers for himself as he completes a move in the game, “Heeehawww!”
“D’oh!” Muttered his friend Parm, who was playing from a different location.
“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m winning,” Artha stated.
“Nevertheless, you’re virtually two hundred thousand points in the lead.” Parm whined. “You always beat me at every game we play.”
“It’s just about picking the right colours, Parmon.” Artha said, engrossed in the game. They were playing Beauty Dragons. A VIDDgame intended for young girls, but had somehow managed to find its way into the palms of Artha Penn. Artha and Parm both glittered up their pretty dragons, brushed their virtual scales, polished and painted their claws and sent them down the runway.
“I gone and won again!” Artha smiled.
“Ah, scales,” exclaimed Parmon. “I got sixth position. Again.”
“You can’t expect to win with your stupid purple dragon.”
“Well, what in the Magna Draconis makes your dragon better than mine?”
“For one thing, I don’t have no tassels on the saddle bars. And the claws aren’t yellow.”
“What’s wrong with yellow?”
“Everyone knows yellow is soooo last year.”
“Really? I thought that was pink.”
“No, pink is the in thing. That and silver sparkles. See, I’ve got glitter on my drago…..Beau!” Artha all but yelled as the majestic black and gold dragon walked up. Quicker than a flash of pretty light, he switched out of Beauty Dragons and Dragon Racing appeared on the VIDDscreen. “See Beau,” Artha gave him a cheesy smile and chuckled, “I was just racing with Parm.”
“Oh, right,” Parm said, and soon he had switched games as well and was competing against Artha. Beau rolled his eyes and walked away.
“Phew. Alright, Parm. Beau’s gone.” Artha breathed in a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that’s okay, we’ll play Dragon Racing now.”
“You jus’ don’t wanna lose to me in Beauty Dragons again,” Artha snickered.
“No….I just….your…er…your Dad would want you playing Dragon Racing instead. You know, for when you’ll race. Me, being a good friend, I’ll play with you to help you train….”
“Parm! I’m not going to race!” Artha said as he raced.
“Why not?” Parm questioned. “Look, look at that! You just pulled an insane move! You’re ahead of everyone now.”
“So what? So what if I’m really, really good at everything I do, especially dragon racing? Let’s just design our new Beauty Dragons VIDDgame, Parm. That’s our ticket to a bit of fame and reasonable amount of fortune.”
“But doesn’t your Dad bug you about going to the Racing Academy?”
“All the time! Plus, he’s hired all his dragons to spy on me!”
“Yes! They watch me every single moment of every single day!” Artha tossed his head around for emphasis as he whined, nearly dislodging his precious head in the act. Just then, Beau snuck up behind Artha, and thrust his devastatingly handsome face in front of Artha’s VIDDgame. “See what I mean! Beau! I’m busy!”
Unfortunately, Beau’s rather enormous chin pushed one of the buttons, and the Beauty Dragons VIDDgame replaced Dragon Racing. Beau gaped at the screen, then at Artha, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“Argh!” Artha moaned and tried to turn off the screen. Beau chuckled, and in doing so, knocked the VIDDgame out of Artha’s hands with his chin. The game flew and crash landed near Beau’s foot. Beau looked at Artha, pointed his front paw at him and laughed. Then he went to inspect the VIDDgame closer.
No! Artha thought. He’s going to show it to Lance! I have to do something! Artha, thinking quickly decided to…. After thinking for a bit longer, Artha finally came up with a great plan.
“Beau! Don’t look now, but there’s a fire! Right behind you!” Artha shouted. Beau looked at him, alarmed. “In fact, the VIDDgame is on fire!” Beau gasped in absolute horror and looked at the VIDDgame near his feet. “DO something! It could burn out of control and destroy everything!” Beau, being the brave dragon he was, jumped on the game in hopes of putting it out. After jumping on it several times, Beau stopped. “No! Don’t stop now! Look! It’s still alive!” Beau then mag-blasted the VIDDgame.
Artha giggled. Where the game had once been, there was now a smoking crater. “Good, it’s dead now.” Beau glowered at Artha, then stalked away, completely miffed out of his mind. Artha snickered. “Dumb dragon.”
“Out of my way, stable boy!”
“Yes, stable boy.”
“Did you just call me stable boy?”
“You’re not tryign to scrape my scales,a re ya?”
“Your spelling sucks.”
“What?!?!?” Artha fumed at the other boy, who looked on in reasonable amazement at Artha’s ability to include three question marks and two exclamation points at the end of his sentence.
“Oh, would you like me to call you something else?”
Artha considered the pale boy’s offer. “Actually, that would be nice.”
“Okay…stable brat. Hey, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“My name is not stable anything. I’m Artha Penn. Of Penn Stables.”
“Where in the Magna Draconis is that?” The white-haired kid asked. Artha pointed at the large sign sitting atop the building. “Oh. Well, at least I know where it is now.” The grey-eyed boy looked around and started to mumble to himself, “so if I come back here later tonight, I can use my new super stick and steal the Dragon of Le….” The boy abruptly stopped as he realized Artha was staring at him. “I mean, I can come…back…later, then I can use my new…soup stick and stew the dra….” He trailed off as he realized he wasn’t making things any better.
“Who are you?” Artha had to question.
“I’m Moordryd Paynn, and I steal…er…race dragons.” Moordryd said. “What do you do?”
“I clean up after them,” Artha stated blandly.
Moordryd snickered. “So you really are a stable brat.” Artha frowned at Moordryd’s back as he turned and walked away laughing. Then, as Artha himself was about to turn and leave, he noticed something on the ground. With his head still full of mounting anger and fury, he picked up the brown glop. Then flung it at Moordryd’s oh so pretty head.
Unfortunately, it flew past him and landed harmlessly on a helpless draco-slug. Artha had made a big mistake, for this was no ordinary slug. This was Slugy, the prince of the Slime Nation of slugs. He squealed in unprecedented fury and shook his tail at Artha, then wandered away, still squeaking as only a slug could, prepared to find his father, King Mr. Slug, and have him wage war on all humans. Oblivious to all this, Moordryd wheeled about on his hind foot and stalked back. “What was that?” He demanded.
Moordryd eyed Artha suspiciously. “Cake?”
“Draconee-yum bar cake.” Artha replied. Moordryd’s eyes burned with hot, smoldering, escalating, intense and fiery anger, and Artha was doing his best to avoid trouble. “I dropped it this morning and haven’t cleaned it up yet.”
And it was true, for the brown pile was nothing more than a reminiscent of a past draconee-yum bar cake. One that should have been photographed and awarded many a prizes and cute ribbons…never mind. But it had been one heck of a cake.
Moordryd stared at Artha like he was crazy. Artha paused in licking his hand off and noticed Moordryd’s crazy stare. “What?”
Moordryd quickly regained control of himself and his mad glare. “You…I thought you threw….”
“Oh, no. That would be plain disgusting.” Artha finally finished licking his hand, then wiped it onto his shirt. “Cakeisfood.”
“Sorrey.I meat cake is goode.”
Moordryd gritted his teeth. “Nothing irritates me more than bad spelling and grammar.” He took a threatening step towards Artha, glaring as best he could. Artha took one look at his cold, penetrating eyes, then abruptly dropped into a fetal position.
Moordryd stood over him. “Tcha! You’re not worth the trouble.” With one last glare, he left, and Artha crawled around and eventually found his way into the house.
Lance, for that was his name, looked up at him. “Really where? I can’t sweep anymore. I’ve been doing this all morning while you were cleaning up the cake…,”
“Yes I was,” Artha stated blandly and started to whistle as he looked anywhere but Lance.
Meanwhile Lance had still been talking, his eyes beginning to tear. “….tripping me wasn’t funny! You got to clean cake and I have to clean….”
Artha stared off into space while his younger brother yakked. He began thinking. Lance sure talks a lot. Like….
“…fell and got all dirty. Then I couldn’t get washed up cause I still had to clean the stables….”
…like a person who talks too much. Artha finished and swelled with pride at the simile he managed to think up.
“…stop Beau from doing all this. I mean, for a Dragon of Legend, he sure makes legendary….”
Artha soon had a brilliantly brilliant idea. Rainbow colored claws!
“…but I did manage to wash the floors and clean the fireplace….”
I can…Parm can code that into our Beauty Dragons VIDDgame! Rainbow colored claws, it’ll make us rich! Artha squealed inside.
“…then I fed the chickens, watered the plants, washed the windows and made dinner.” Lance took a deep breath, and turned to his brother, tears welling up in his eyes. “I was just wondering…could you do at least not do what you did last week? I’ve done….”
Lance trailed off as he realized Artha wasn’t listening. Artha was holding his hands over his mouth, trying very hard not to burst out squealing with happiness. He was going to get so rich!
Lance cleared his throat. Artha looked down at him and put his hands down near his side, but not before a squeak of excitement penetrated his lips. “SQUEAK! Oh, uh. Drac job with the sweeping with that…thing.”
“It’s called a broom!” Lance protested and held up the broom.
“Of course it is,” Artha said affectionately as he gave Lance a noogie. “You just keep telling yourself that.” Lance sighed irritably.
“AHEM!” Came a sudden loud noise. Artha and Lance both glanced up quickly at the newcomer.
“Dad! I was…was…just…I know,” Artha sighed, “don’t bother Lance when he’s working.”
“Right,” Connor Penn said, “around here we….”
“…don’t bother Lance when he’s working. I know, Dad.” Artha sighed again.
“That’s right,” Lance said, “you just mess everything up and then I have to do it all over again.”
“Exactly, we don’t want a repeat of last week, do we?” Connor inquired, lifting one eyebrow.
“No we do not,” Artha said, thinking back to last week.
Lance sure didn’t want a repeat. “I sure don’t want a repeat,” he said. “The gunk is still stuck on the kitchen ceiling.”
All three of them chuckled weakly before trailing off. Then they stood there. Artha coughed. The silence continued. Far off, in another part of the city, someone else coughed as well.
“Artha,” Connor said after a while, “you’re sixteen.”
“Oh,” Artha said.
“You’re also imperceptive,” Lance muttered as he continued sweeping.
Well,” Artha huffed, “I may be immproceptife…but at least I’m not stupid!”
“My point exactly.”
“You have no points!”
“All right boys.” Connor said while Artha was just about to prove how Lance never had any points or purposes or the like. Lance stuck out his tongue at Artha and continued to sweep. Artha stuck his tongue out at him as well. “Artha,” Connor said, and Artha looked at him with his tongue still hanging out.
“Wha tho you wan nou?”
Connor sighed. “Beau is sixteen as well.”
“I no. Tho?”
“Sixteen year olds are known for doing great things. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Grea fo them.”
“Sixteen year olds are also allowed racing….and doing great things.”
“Tho I am.”
“So is Beau.”
“I thuppose tho.”
“You, the dragon, great things.”
“An yur poin ith?”
Connor sighed, then said irritably, “look, will you put your tongue back in your mouth? Thank you.”
Artha sulked, then immediately brightened. “Oh! Oh?!? You’re just implying that you want me to race and do satisfactory things?”
“Great things,” Connor corrected him.
“Yeah, but…but….” Artha glanced around, then snapped the broom out of Lance’s hands. “Only I’m the one with…this thing.”
“Great things are in store for all of you,” Connor said, “I should know. I raised you all from dorks!” Then he chuckled and strode away.
Artha looked at Lance and handed him the broom back, “and I helped raise you from a baby!”
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to…er, I mean, thanks for coming!” Connor cleared his throat, motioned to Lance to bring him some more juice and continued. “You are the best and prettiest street and elite racers in the city. For today, anyway. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?” Connor chuckled. The racers looked at each other, uncertain.
“Anywho,” Connor continued, “I want you all to meet…,” Connor motioned to Artha, who instantly hit the lights. Connor took a swig of the juice Lance handed to him, then said in an announcer like tone as brightly colored lights flashed everywhere and music began to play.
“The one.” The racers looked around, startled. Ahead of them, a stable door began to open.
“The only.” The door creaked open and a swirl of fog curled out, bathing the area.
“Beau!” Connor finished dramatically as the door opened fully. The music increased to a pompous state and the lights centered on the emerging dragon.
“I believe,” Connor said as he stepped between Beau and the racers, while Beau stretched and posed. “I believe that Beau here,” Connor said, gesturing to Beau as the dragon craned his neck and flashed a mighty grin, “will be the most powerful dragon on the planet!” All female dragons in a one mile radius suddenly fainted in awe of his uber cool destiny.
“Even more powerful than the energizer dragon in all those battery commercials?” One racer questioned.
Connor looked them all in the eye. Dead silence followed. “Yes.” The racers gasped.
Moordryd eyed the dragon and thought to himself, The Black, Gold and Sparkly Dragon of Legend! Wait…what?
For as Moordryd was thinking those very words you should have just read, shiny sparkles fell from the nearby stable rooftop and landed all around them, coating them all. Artha nudged Lance, grinning. That had been his idea.
Soon, the music died down, the lights turned off, and everyone shook the eye-catching glitter off of themselves. “Say, Connor,” one racer said, “what is that?” And he pointed to Beau, who had gear magged onto himself. “Level six-hundred white aero gear, nine-hundred blue balance and…a million red speed burst?”
Connor puffed out his chest. He was apparently proud of his dragon. “Beau can magnetize and use all gear types and levels!”
The racers stared at the gear, where the numbers were beginning to drip. “Aren’t those levels painted on?”
“Uh, no they aren’t. Don’t be silly,” Connor said with a flip of his hand. He looked back to Beau while trying to make it look like he really wasn’t. “*Cough*mag off gear. *cough*” Beau stared at Connor. “*cough* mag *cough* off the *cough* gear. *cough*”
Beau stared at him incredulously.
“*Cough, hack* MAG *cough, cough* OFF *cough* THE *hack* GEAR! *cough*”
Beau made an ‘o’ with his lips as he understood. He flashed a smile at the crowd and quickly magged the gear into the nearest stable, breaking half the things in there.
Connor turned back to the racers. “What were you saying?” He asked the first. That particular racer said nothing in return. “Well then,” Connor said, “let’s see if any of you can take Beau for a spin.” Connor glanced at the racers, who just happened to be conveniently standing quite orderly in a neat row.
“Ah, you there!” He called to one. Moordryd tried to hide, fearing his cover might be blown. Connor came to stand in front of him. “How would you like to go first?”
“Me?” Moordryd asked, surprised at his luck.
“Yes, come now, don’t be shy,” Connor encouraged him. Moordryd gave him a false, half smile and stepped forward.
Beau, realizing that the choosing process was about to commence, pranced quite nicely to the middle of the stables. Lance and Artha both pushed a creatively decorated step ladder close to Beau. They then, with magnificent hand gestures, and acting like any showgirl, they displayed the dragon and step ladder. Moordryd started walking.
Connor walked beside him. “Do I know you? You look very familiar.”
“Well, er, I race dragons. You might’ve seen me then.” Moordryd offered.
Connor rubbed his chin, “perhaps. But you look like someone I know. Someone with white hair, unibrow, pale skin, grey eyes….”
“Well,” Moordryd said nervously, “that could be anybody.”
“I suppose you’re right. Well, climb on up,” Connor said as they reached the step ladder. Artha and Lance gave dramatic flourishes with their hands. Moordryd was just about to grab the railing on the ladder, but noticed a draco-slug on it. Slugy had wandered on the step ladder railing, thinking it was an easier way to the Slime Nation.
Shrieking, Moordryd leapt back. Connor’s memory finally worked. “Say, you remind me of my old friend, Word Paynn, when you shriek like that.”
“Do I?” Moordryd asked, rubbing his hand. That thing had almost touched him!
“Yes,” Connor said. “WAITAMINUTE!” Everyone jumped. Artha fell. “You’re Word Paynn’s son, aren’t you?”
“Ummm……………………………….................................................…no I’m not?”
“Yes you are. You can’t fool these hawk like eyes of mine,” Connor pointed to his eyes and accidentally poked himself.
“Well, what are you going to do about it, old man?” Moordryd said insolently.
Connor rubbed his eye, “depart now, insolent fool. Before I employ force on thou.” Perhaps, just perhaps, Connor might have made a better impression on the young Paynn had he not been rubbing his eye, covered in glitter and smelling of juice.
However, Connor was lucky, for Moordryd realized it would be easier to steal the dragon if he came later that night. Moordryd seized a swanky pair of sunglasses from his jacket and put them on. “I’ll be back,” he said notably as he strode away. All females in a one mile radius suddenly fainted from his dashing looks.
Conno shook his head and thought to himself, so, Word, my old friend. You know about Beau.
And to his distinguished guests who were amusing themselves with chugging down the juice, Connor said, “excuse me.” He grabbed Artha’s arm and pulled him to where they could talk in private. “Artha,” he said solemnly, “it’s time you know.”
“What? You’re not my real father? Why didn’t you tell me!”
“No, I’m your real father. I wanted to tell you something else.”
“Lance is adopted?”
Artha gasped. “You’re adopted!”
“You’re losing your hair?”
“Of course not!” Connor replied angrily and combed a hand through his incredibly thick, wavy locks.
“I’m losing my hair?!”
“NO!” Connor nearly shouted. “I have something to show you.”
“What?” Artha asked, looking around.
Connor reached into his pocket. “This.” And lo! out came a star shaped amulet.
“This is something I had since I was sixteen years old, just like you,” Connor said. “It was given to me by a secret order of Dragon Priests. They warned me of an ancient legend….”
This is a Drac Flashback
In a cave because housing costs had skyrocketed, there was a Dragon Priest. He had called young Conner Penn before him to tell him a legend.
“A terrible war is coming,” he began gravely.
“Scales,” young Connor mumbled.
“A war between dragons and humans! Only the return of the Black and Gold Dragon of Legend can stop this.”
“But isn’t that dragon dead?” Connor asked.
“Then how can he return?”
“Through selective breeding.”
The Priest shifted uneasily and ignored him. “He can only save the planet if he chooses a true human hero with incredible sueish tendencies who can release his secret powers.”
“Is that me?”
“No. Now be quiet. This human will be….”
This Has Been a Drac Flashback
“…a Sue Booster.” Connor finished.
“A Sue Booster?” Artha asked.
“A Sue Booster,” Connor said.
“A Sue Booster?” Artha asked just one more time, to make sure he heard right.
“A Sue Booster,” Connor said.
“A Sue Booster,” Artha mused.
“That’s right, a Sue Booster,” Connor said.
“Oh, a Sue Booster,” Artha said.
“Darn tootin’,” Connor said.
“But,” Artha said, “why give this to me?”
“I’m giving this to you in case something happens.”
“Why, what’s going to happen?” Artha asked worriedly as he took the amulet.
“I don’t know. But just to be on the safe side, I’m giving this to you.”
“But what if I lose it?” Artha protested.
“You won’t. But when Beau chooses a Sue Booster, the very same star mark will appear on his head. Then give this amulet to that person.” Connor said. “That person, whosoever he or she may be, will be the Sue Booster.”
“I must go now,” Connor said, looking back to the racers, “Beau is in a drinking contest with the racers and we don’t want anything to happen!” He rushed off, leaving Artha to dwell upon everything he had said. Nearly a whole second later, Artha followed him, hoping to get some cheese before it was all gone.
“Mags all gear, huh? Yeah right, let’s see what this dragon can do!” The racer settled onto the saddle and grabbed the handlebars, ready to go. Beau paused, is if thinking very, very hard.
“Hmmmmmmm…” Beau mused, then magged the rider off.
“What the….” He slammed hard onto the ground, just missing a comfortable patch of dirt. Beau snorted. That was not the one. He was much too big and heavy.
“Well,” said another racer, rubbing his hands together, “my turn then.” But alas, he was soon magged off as well. Beau glared at the next racer to approach him. That last one had been too small and light.
After a few seconds of intricate thinking which involved screwing his face up in various thinking expressions, and after the rider worried the dragon he was sitting on might have gas, Beau magged off this one as well. He smelt funny.
The next racer was too loud, the next had a horrible laugh, and the next had a horrible outfit on. Beau didn’t even waste time on the last one to mount him, he threw him off before he touched the saddle. That guy’s haircut was simply awful!
Connor sighed. “Looks like Beau won’t choose anyone today,” Lance remarked.
“I thought these were the prettiest racers in the city.” Artha said as they all watched the riders limp away.
Connor rubbed his head. “I thought so too. Is there anyone left?” The racers looked at each other, and instantly pointed to the one standing next to them.
Suddenly, everyone turned as heavy, pounding feet of a running dragon was heard. “Look out!” Came the frantic voice of the worried rider on the approaching red dragon. Everyone leaped out of the way as the dragon skidded to a stop, barely stopping in time to avoid hitting the snack table. “Sorry,” the girl atop the dragon said, “my thrusters were on too high, and there’s juice all over the ground, for some odd reason.”
She sprang lightly from the saddle, and walked over to the others. “Well, you can all go over there, or wherever else you want if you have some other place to be.”
“Oh great,” one racer said, “Kitt Wonn.”
The racer standing next to him scoffed. “She thinks she’s the prettiest dragon racer anywhere.”
“I beat most of you in the beauty pageant last week, didn’t I?” Kitt said as she walked past. The two racers fell silent, remembering their horrible placing in the same competition.
“Now, watch and learn,” Kitt said and hopped onto Beau’s back. The racers gasped; she hadn’t used the step ladder. Artha was slightly offended.
Captain Obvious stepped forward in amazement. “She’s on!”
Beau looked at Kitt as she sat on him in complete confidence. He thought for a moment, prepared to accept her as the Dragon Booster. Then he started to giggle, and did his best not to burst out laughing.
Slugy was crawling on Beau’s back, as he finally made it on. He stopped and looked around, realizing this was not the way back home. He crawled around in a circle, completely annoyed at himself.
Beau clamped his mouth shut, trying not to snigger, chuckle, titter, chortle, laugh or giggle. Unfortunately, he guffawed. Slugy was tickling him so much! Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He magged off both Slugy and Kitt and scratched his back with his tail and chin.
Slugy flew through the air with the greatest of ease. Artha noticed the slug coming towards him, gasped in horror, and side stepped, directly into the path of the amazing flying Kitt. He held out his arms and caught her gently, then snapped a cheesy smile, which in some cases, can also pass for a heroic smile.
“She’s not on anymore!” Captain Obvious gasped.
“Why, stable-boy, you ca….ouf!” She cried out as Artha dropped her. She rubbed her butt and glared at him from the ground. “What did you do that for?”
Artha giggled. “There’s a draco-slug on my leg!”
Indeed, it was Slugy, who had found the human who had so rudely covered him in draconee-yum bar cake. Extracting his sweet revenge, he wormed his way up Artha’s pants, and attacked with considerable force for a draco-slug. Artha laughed even harder. “Get it off!” He was barely able to say.
Kitt stared at him incredulously. Artha started to hop around on one foot, shaking his other leg. Meanwhile, Lance had just come out of the house with a whole new pitcher of juice, and noticed Artha.
“What, is there a dancing competition or something?”
Just then, Artha shook his leg mightily, and Slugy flew out of his pant leg. He skidded across the ground and came to rest in a pile of…dragon business. Slugy then swore such a stream of negative and offending words that the atmosphere around him began to smolder.
Artha scratched his leg, and finally his laughter trailed off. He looked around. “So uh…*cough*…who’s next?”
Kitt put her hands on her hips and smirked. “Why don’t you try?”
Artha looked around, then hesitantly pointed to himself. Kitt nodded.
“Here,” Connor said, stepping up to Artha, “you’ll need my old racing jacket.” Connor proudly held up his old racing jacket. It was multi-colored, torn, rusted, faded and smelled disgusting.
“Uh, I think I’ll just use the one you bought for me last week,” Artha said, loathing to touch it.
Connor sighed. “Okay. It’s just as well. You might get it dirty or something.”
Artha sighed in relief, then noticed his father stare at him. “I mean, er, o, what a pity!”
Connor nodded, completely fooled by Artha’s revised statement and started to brush some dust off his old racing jacket. Artha put on his own racing jacket, and then approached Beau. Then Connor gave Artha some last minute, but vital, instructions and encouragement.
“Remember, listen. The dragon is just like the sue inside of you. Relax! But not too much. Open your mind - if possible - and your heart and release that power - release the sue!” Artha nodded, then walked to Beau as the other racers started taking bets on whether he could stay on while Lance collected the drakkals.
“Tee, hee,” Artha giggled sheepishly as he looked up at Beau. “You know I didn’t mean to call you a dumb dragon before, right? Right? Right? Right? Right?” Beau rolled his eyes.
“Here we go. Nice dragon, good dragon, pretty dragon, drac dragon, oh, stinky dragon!” Beau rolled his eyes again. He did not stink.
The racers looked on in amusement, especially Kitt. Connor gasped in delight at a colorful advertisement flickering across the street.
“Easy boy, good boy. Who’s a good dragon? Who’s a good dragy wagy? You are! Yes, you are!” Artha coaxed Beau, and put one foot on his back. “Big dragy wagy. My footie wootie is on your backie wackie. You’re not going to magy wagy me awayie wawayaie, are you?” Artha asked, having trouble with the last part. Beau rolled his eyes again and magged him off without further hesitation.
Artha flew through the air with greater ease then Slugy ever could, and he was headed directly for Kitt. Kitt smirked as she saw him approaching and side stepped. Artha fell on the ground, and Connor was relieved that he wasn’t wearing his old racing jacket.
“Y’see?” Artha yelled. “This is why I don’t like dragons!” He got up and, ignoring everyone’s laughs, headed to the house.
“Artha, wait,” Connor called after him. “Could you bring some more cheese out?”
Suddenly, a noise from outside caused him to awaken. Beau yawned and heard it again, instantly jolting him wide awake.
From outside he heard someone trip over a garbage, swear blatantly at it, yell in pain as they stubbed their toe, hopped around, and then hum the Mission Impossible theme song as they snuck along the stable. Beau saw a shadow stretch as the intruder came closer, and soon he stood in the entrance after a superb duck and roll combo.
He wore a helmet which completely hid his identity. He straightened, and walked inside. Beau growled softly. “Oh, do not be alarmed,” the intruder said. “I’m from Dragon Daily, the leading magazine in celebrity news, both human and dragon. Where news is, Dragon Daily isn’t far behind.”
Beau was flattered. “Now smile for the camera, for you, my friend, are going to be on the cover.” Beau gaped. He loved Dragon Daily! He only read it like, every day! And to think, he was going to be on the cover!
The Dragon Daily man pulled out a camera, and put it to his face, finger poised above the button. “Smile!” He said, and took a picture. Beau managed to smile cheesily as he took the picture. “You can do better than that! Come on, show me the love!”
The Dragon Daily man took more pictures, and for each one, Beau posed: laying on the ground, standing on his pedestal, flexing, and various other poses. And with each picture, the Dragon Daily man came closer. Nearing the end of the pictures, Beau was becoming restless as the growing horror music was beginning to get to him.
Soon, the Dragon Dail…the DD man was right next to him. He looked up to Beau, and said. “Okay, time for one last shot…er, picture…ahem…now stand just like that…yes…yes, good.” The DD man raised the camera to his face. “Ready?” Beau nodded enthusiastically from his current position, where he was standing on his hind legs, gripping a blocking staff in his tail, the butt (stop snickering) planted firmly in the ground as he held it like the sword of a conquering hero.
“Great!” The DD man said, and prepared to take the picture. “Now smile…more…more…more…more…more…more…more…more…just a little more…more…more…more…more…too much…good…” Beau thought his mouth was about to break, but if it was for the Dragon Daily….
“Sucker!” The DD man said, then dropped his camera. Beau gasped. That had looked like a very expensive camera, what a fool. But then, the DD man pulled out… O horror of horrors! It was a stick! Beau squealed, dropped the blocking staff and backed up until he hit the wall. The stick looked menacing in the faint light. All this had been a trick!
“Halt, who goes there?”
Beau sighed in relief as he heard the familiar voice. The DD man glanced worriedly at the opening. “Uh…er, no one.”
“Oh, okay.” Beau heard Connor say and he started to leave before he even reached the stables. Beau whined as the DD man walked even closer, holding the deadly stick.
But as Connor was walking back to the house, something struck his mind. And it wasn’t the bug that just flew in his ear. He turned around and walked back to the stable, pondering. “But if no one is there, who just said…gasp!” Connor gasped as he reached the open stable door and saw Beau crouched against the far wall. “A stick!” Connor nearly cried aloud in dismay as he saw what the mysterious man held in his hand.
“Stay out of this, old man!” The mysterious figure said.
Connor peered at him through the darkness. “You wear the same racing suit and helmet as Moordryd Paynn…who are you?!?!?”
The mysterious man, rudely enough, did not answer, but ran straight for him. He held the stick in front of him and charged madly forward with a Tarzan-like jungle cry. “Aaaaaaahhhaaaahaaahahaaaahahhhhaahaaahaahhhahaa!”
Connor grabbed a nearby flash stick, and as the mysterious man came closer, Connor leaped mightily over a pebble. The strange man was unperturbed by this feat, and came closer still.
Connor shook his head at his foolishness. Could he not see his awesome skill?
The mystifying man still ran at him, as Connor showed him how well he could break dance. If that didn’t slow him down, nothing would. Apparently, it didn’t work, not even the catchy music Connor used slowed him down.
Then Connor, as the man sprinted at him still, decided to try one last time. He did nothing, nothing would work, it just had to. But it didn’t.
And as the man was almost close enough to perhaps touch him if he wanted too and if he tried, Connor squealed and jumped. For Slugy had just then pulled himself from the dragon business and charged blindly towards Connor’s foot, so angry and humiliated that he attacked the first humanoid he saw. Unable to put on his brakes when he realized it was not the one who threw the cake on him earlier, Slugy hit Connor’s back foot with incredible force for a draco-slug.
This startling and unexpected incident, gave Connor the right amount of surprise and jump to leap over the mysterious man’s head. The world seemed to go in slow motion.
The strange man looked up at Connor. “Whhhhhhhhaaaaaaaattttttttt tttttttttthhhhhhhhhheeeeeeee….????”
And to Connor’s further fortune, the flash stick he was carrying accidentally hit the DD man on the back of his head. His helmet came off and hit the ground.
The DD man fell soon after that, and came up with a mouthful of Slugy’s earlier trap. Behind, Connor fell as well, nearly squashing poor Slugy. Beau watched all this in shock from the back of the stables.
Connor rubbed his head as Slugy did the same beside him, using his tail. “Oooooooooooooo…” Slugy moaned.
Connor then saw the helmet on the ground. “Oh no, I knocked his head off!” Connor cried and jumped up. Not literally of course, he was getting old. He put his hands to his face in distress. “I’ll have to leave town when people discover what I had just done. I‘ll need a new name, go to a new city. I know. I‘ll grow a mustache and change my name to Penn Connor. Yes, yes. But I can’t take my kids with me while I’m on the run…oh dear, what will I d…oh, hee hee….” For Connor noticed the DD man lift his head off the ground and wipe brown glop from his mouth. “Oh, his helmet came off…” Connor chuckled. And because he laughed, Beau found it hard to resist, and he stared to laugh too. Then even Slugy found it impossible not to laugh, so he squeaked along with them.
The DD man didn’t see what was so funny. He sat up. Connor gasped. Beau accidentally snorted while laughing. Slugy laughed at him. Beau growled back. Slugy squeaked and crawled away.
“You’re Moordryd Paynn!” Captain Obvious gasped as he came out of the house. “I had to use your bathroom. I’m leaving now.”
Connor dismissed Captain Obvious with a flip of his hand. He then glared at Moordryd, opened his mouth wide, took a deep, deep breathed and gasped, “Moordryd Paynn!”
“You broke my helmet strap! You’ll pay for that old man!” Moordryd shouted at him in rage, then stalked off.
Connor rubbed his chin. “So, Word, my old friend. You’ve sent one person to try to steal Beau. It appears you’ll stop at nothing to get him.”
Connor then turned to Beau, who was just poking his head out of the stable, whining and blinking pitifully in the harsh light from the city. “Beau must choose!”
“Intell…intalll…intellactualle…whatever that means.” Artha frowned and closed his book. Lance’s head immediately popped up from his own.
“I told you before Lance,” Artha sighed as he put his book away, “only speak Draconian around me. You know I don’t know other languages.” Lance shrugged and went back to reading. Artha picked up the amulet.
Lance’s head perked up again. “What was that?” Artha frowned as he too, heard the strange noise.
“Wait here,” he said and went to the front door. He opened it, just a sliver, and saw dark shapes immediately freeze as the door was opened.
Artha opened it all the way and walked outside, pleased to have caught the thieves as they attempted to sneak past. They all had frozen in whatever position they had been in when the door opened. Artha sauntered up to the lead thief, and looked intently at him.
The thief was frozen in mid stride, arms and legs placed every which way as he had been sneaking with over exaggerated motions. Cain did his best not to move. Artha walked over to peer at Cain in his face, and Cain stared straight ahead. Several minutes passed with no one moving. Then Cain blinked.
“Aha! Caught you!” Artha cried joyfully.
“Nu-uh, blinking doesn’t count,” Cain whined.
“Oh,” Artha said, crestfallen.
Cain went back to not moving, and Artha stood there a while longer, waiting to see if any moved. None of the thieves did. Artha then sighed, getting bored. Plus, he wanted to look at the shiny amulet again. He turned around and went back inside.
As the door closed and the light from indoors disappeared, the thieves chuckled and continued their creeping to the stables. Moordryd then followed them, shaking his head in wonder and embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Artha was heading back to the front room, when he had a thought, which didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. “Hey…” He said, and turned around, opened the door again and peered out. He gasped. “They moved!”
Angered that he had lost, he snuck behind them with over exaggerated motions of his own. Suddenly, a loud explosion blew him off his feet. He landed nearly a whole two millimeters away.
Artha looked back to the house in horror. “Dad, Lance, noooooooooooo!”
The thieves snickered and one grabbed a radio from his jacket. He fiddled with the channels until he found the right one. Sweet music began to play, and Beau stopped his head long run. He yawned again. Magna Draconis, that music was beautiful. Beau slowly sank to the ground, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. The thieves moved in.
His ears perked up as he heard a muffled sound. “Lance, is that you? Where are you?” He called, walking over the rubble. One particular board he stepped on moved. Artha shrieked, then looked underneath and saw Lance.
“What are you doing down there? C’mon!” He grabbed Lance and pulled him out. “Where’s Dad?”
“I don’t know,” Lance said in despair. “I couldn’t find him.”
“We have to get out of here,” Artha said and looked around for an exit. Suddenly, more wreckage fell, blocking the only way out. They were trapped!
“We’re trapped!” Lance said in alarm.
“Dad! Help us! Get us out of here! Dad! Dad! Dinner’s burnt! Help us! Dad! We’re trapped!”
Beau opened his eyes, startling Cain, who happened to be looking at them closely. Beau fought the urge to sleep, and started to get up.
“Impossible, he’s waking up?” Moordryd gasped in amazement. “Stop him. Uh-oh…”
Beau stood up and tossed the teddy bear aside. Ignoring one of the thief’s cries for Beary’s well being, Beau magged the Dragon Eyes and threw them roughly aside.
“How do you know? Have you used this befo…” Lance asked.
“No time for questions, just go!”
“But what about you? You’re too big and fat to fit.”
“No time for other questions, just go!”
Lance nodded and crawled away, muttering faintly about the number of spider webs and the dirtiness of the duct. Artha peered inside. It was true, he was too big, and as Lance loved to put it, too fat. He sighed and looked around at the burning building.
But just then, suddenly, abruptly and totally unexpectedly, Beau crashed through the opposite wall and then fell down. He lifted his head and gazed in awe at the pretty crow-drags flying around it.
“Beau!” Artha yelled in happiness. Beau peered around, then noticed Artha.
“Aaarrrrrraaaaa?” He asked as best he could with his dragon’s mouth. “Aaaaarrrrrrraaaaa!”
Artha hopped onto Beau’s back. “Am I glad to see you. Now let’s go.” Beau nodded in agreement and coughed on the smoke. But as he was about to crash out the other wall, something truly amazing happened. Then after Beau’s fart, the star mark on his head began to glow.
Artha gasped and remembered his father’s words. Never tickle Beau when he sleeps, for his laugh is like that of a thousand drunk hydra…. Then Artha remembered something else his father had said, something much more important. The one Beau chooses will be the Sue Booster.
Artha gasped girlishly, completely flattered. Beau, on the other paw, was in complete shock. Something was happening on his forehead, and not matter how hard he tried to see, he just couldn’t see what was happening up there. Then, a final bright flash of light filled the entire room, nearly blinding them both.
Down below, the Dragon Eyes looked at the bright flash in amazement. They awed in awed awe.
Up above, Beau crashed through the other wall, half blind, as was Artha, who was desperately trying to steer him with his mind, and landed outside surprising poor Lance, who had just made it out himself. They blinked furiously at him as their sight returned.
“Hey…,” he said, picking spider webs and dirt and dust off himself. “Why did you make me crawl through that?” He asked angrily, eyeing his brother on top of Beau.
“Uhh…” Artha stuttered.
“Wait, Beau chose…you?” Lance asked. Artha nodded sheepishly. “Wow. I’m utterly shocked. I mean, you, of all people. You…”
“Uh…that’s enough. We’ve got to get out of here.” Artha said as Beau magged Lance onto his back. He immediately took off, and ran from the Dragon Eyes who suddenly saw them. They actually pointed at them, giving away their location.
Beau ran beautifully until the platform stopped and then began to drop for about a kilometer. Beau gasped and backed away from the edge. He looked behind and saw Moordryd come his way on Decepshun. Beau threw…er, tossed Artha and Lance down to the ledge, then faced Moordryd and Decepshun boldly.
Decepshun sneered at him as Moordryd yelled in glee that he had found the Dragon of Legend and had him trapped. Beau’s menacing roar didn’t faze them in the least. As Decepshun bounded forward, Beau did as well.
Beau heard a creaking noise, and saw the Connor’s large sign wobble. Then it fell in a dangerous rush. Beau stopped his charge, and the sign fell between Moordryd and him, much to his relief.
Deepshun, however, didn’t stop, urged ever onward by Moordryd. They leapt at it, preparing to break through.
From the other side, Beau heard a loud thwack and saw the sign shake. Then he heard offensive words from Moordryd as Decepshun moaned about her sore head. Then they tried it again, managing only a louder thwack, which actually sounded more like a whump. The sign shook again, with more force than before, but remained undamaged. Then, cursing in embarrassment, Moordryd and Decepshun walked around the sign.
Decepshun’s eyes widened in horror and Moordryd said “ugh.” For Beau was attempting to jump down to the ledge where he had ‘placed’ Artha and Lance. But to him, the ledge looked much too small for him to stand on, let alone run. So he tried to ease himself down onto it, head first. His butt was stuck up in the air as he tried to slide onto the ledge, all the while thinking he should’ve gone back end first.
Moordryd, repulsed by the view, fired off a drag-ball at Beau. It hit him square on, and Beau yelped and fell safely to the ledge. Artha and Lance congratulated him, then hopped on as he ran along the ledge. It looked much wider now than it had before.
Moordyd and Decepshun jumped down and gave pursuit.
“Where are we going?” Artha asked as they ran along, the wind ruffling his black hair.
“I think Beau’s going to try to jump to the building.” Lance responded with all the dignity of a ten year old.
“That one.” Lance pointed.
Artha gasped when he saw it. “Bu that’s too farrrr……..” He said as Beau sped up. Then he remembered his father’s words again. The dragon is just like the great sue power within you. Release the sue. And don’t forget to wash behind your ears.
Artha then concentrated on releasing the sue. Beau began to speed up, creating a vortex around him as he did so. Then he leaped off the edge, cart wheeling his limbs in the air, flapping his legs in an attempt to fly. Artha and Lance screamed “aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh……..” Beau went “wwwwwhhhhhhhhheeeeeee…….” Artha became sick and went “bbbbllllllleeeehhhh…….” Lance then went “eeeewwwwwww….”
And then, to the surprise of them all, they landed on the far building. Artha and Lance fell off, coming to rest in a pile of feathers and old, comfortable mattresses, while Beau plunged headfirst into a dumpster.
“We made it!” Artha exclaimed. Beau sighed and spat out a fish bone and took a banana peel off his head with his tail. As he tried to get out, the lid fell down on him.
“He’s getting away!” He said to no one in particular.
“Our dragon’s won’t jump that far,” Cain said, suddenly appearing beside Moordryd on Coershun and surprising him. Moordryd shrieked.
“But…but…they’re getting away,” Moordryd pointed out after he recovered.
Cain shook his head. “Nope.”
“Can’t we try…”
“Let’s go find some feathers, make some wings and…”
“…what about a jet pack?”
“Well, then, do you have any Red Bull?”
“But we need wings!” Moordryd whined, angered that his prey had gotten away. “WE NEED WINGS!” He shouted to the city.
Far off, in the distance, Word answered him “Well I need some tweezers, but we can’t all get what we want, now can we?”
“What in the Magna Draconis are you doing in Squire’s End? This is Down City crew territory. Don’t you know anyth….”
Lance cut Parm off. “This is where Beau stopped running. We tried to make him move, but he just won’t.” Then, in a whisper, Lance continued, “have you seen my father?”
Parm looked behind him to where Artha was frolicking in the flickering light of many advertisements. “No I haven’t,” he whispered back. “Could be dead.”
“Oh,” Lance said.
“This is dangerous. You have the Dragon Eye crew after you. They have spies all over the city.”
“Totally. Spies are everywhere. If they want your dragon, they’ll find you. They can tickle people to talk, they can…”
“I’m hungry,” Artha said as he walked up to them.
“And what about food, clothing and everything else? You need drakkals to survive.” Parm pointed out.
“I have an idea,” Artha offered.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lance said, his arms hanging down at his side.
“I still have an idea,” Artha said.
“Perhaps I can bring you to my house,” Parm said.
“I still have an idea...no wait…never mind, it’s back.”
Lance rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We need to think of something.”
“I’m in the process of possessing an exceptionally high-quality proposal,” Artha said loudly.
“Well, what is it?” Parm asked while Lance turned to him expectantly.
“Well,” Artha said, “the Down City crews race in the All City Races. I’m going to follow them. While they’re racing, I’ll stand on the street corner and dance for drakkals.”
“Superb idea! That is, if you think you can dance,” Parm said skeptically.
Lance rolled his eyes as his brother did some break dancing, proclaiming his Dad had taught him. “Wait,” Lance said as Artha was spinning on his head. “Why don’t you street race?”
“Even better idea,” Parm said as Artha fell, “you do race in your VIDDgames pretty well.”
“Exactly, it’s just a game. Besides, what dragon am I going to race?” Artha pointed out. Lance and Parmon thought for a while.
Beau, meanwhile, was tired of laying in a puddle, so he stood up and cleared his throat, causing them all to look at him. Beau concentrated his energy, changing colours in front of their eyes.
“Wonderful!” Parmon exclaimed.
“Pretty,” Artha said. “Great camouflage.”
“Uh…no,” Lance said. Beau looked at him questionably. “No pink sparkles or anything.”
Beau looked himself over, and smirked at Artha. Beau was all pink, with yellow and silver markings on him, everything covered by sparkles and glitter. He chuckled, and Artha fumed, knowing that was the exact same design he had in his Beauty Dragons VIDDgame that Beau had seen.
Beau decided to try some other colours.
“Hmm,” Parm said, “nope. Green doesn’t suit you.” Beau changed.
“Neither does yellow and orange,” Lance said. Beau changed again.
“I don’t like the looks of that pale green and greenish-yellow,” Parm said. Beau concentrated some more, and changed.
“I’m just not feeling this whole plaid thing,” Artha said. Beau changed again, hoping this one would please them all. It did.
“That is so you,” Artha said, complementing Beau’s new red and blue colours. Beau blushed.
“What does this mean?” Parm asked.
“That Beau can change colours.” Artha said bluntly.
“It also means you can race him,” Lance pointed out.
Artha held the amulet in his hand and said, “it means I can do a lot more than that.”
And to you viewers, many images of a bright and promising future flash across the screen. Artha in his draconee-yum bar commercial, Artha forgetting to retract his white rappel gear and falling, losing the amulet, Artha wearing his humongous sunglasses and getting hit in the head with the sign, Artha getting tripped by Beau, Artha’s expression when he realizes he’s switched places with Beau’s body, Artha getting tripped by Beau again, and finally, Parm’s pants falling down. Truly images of many exciting episodes to come.
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