“It is said that those who can master the old Dancemancer, Jahn Trabolta’s, dance of Saturday Night Revolutionary Fever, they shall be empowered with unbelievable power, and that they can bed any person, animal, or thing. . .down by the fire.” —Lipstache, The GBs Chronicler
Well, let’s see. I had a few minions I had to dispatch, since they felt it was appropriate to play a prank on me involving the Mirelurk egg that was bequeathed to me. Albeit, the egg was in fact, not destroyed, nor consumed, but actually had hatched. Quite the surprise. . .indeed. . .I suppose an unfortunate turn of events, but oh well. Only the loyal can stay, I guess.
I dubbed the hatchling, Ben. He will be my left hand, my herald of righteousness! Of course, when he reaches a more. . .suitable size. He’s quite fond of me already. Dare I say he also gets along well with my canine companion, which is good news to me. My menagerie of guardians is starting to amass! Now if only I could fit them with mechanical suits. . . Yes, that would be quite lovely! Just think, a nuclear equipped walking crab tank, and a cloaking canine that could target locations for nuclear missiles from afar! Ho ho, my loins are aching from the possibilities!
Today, we are venturing west. We heard rumors of some grand wizard at a museum. I think they’re probably just some clever fool, who uses cheap tricks and illusions to fool other fools, and then keep on the con act. However, I do exist. . .as does The Maker. So, it could be a legit oddity.
We came across the museum alright. It was swarmed with Deathclaws, and ghouls that battled one another. A few from the flock asked if we should intervene, but I told them to shush. It was a perfect opportunity to test out some new. . .tactics.
I launched a quadruple volley of nukes, freezing missiles, and assorted grenades. My word. . .the fire display. . .the explosions. . .the spray of blood, body parts, and organs flying. Oh, what a sight it was! You could have said—oh, what was that age old war cry? Something. Whatever.
The building was partially in ruins, but that was beside the point. What was important was we settled the battle, and cleared the way to this. . .wizard.
Inside, we ventured corridor after corridor. Eventually, it led to another corridor, that led to a passageway behind a bookcase, which was in fact, another corridor. All these corridors. . .I. Hate. Corridors.
Finally, at last, we arrived at a circular platform underground. On the sides of it, were pools. . .green pools. Perhaps acid? The whole place was filled with acrid fumes that almost made me vomit. It was dark. . .so. . .very dark. The only light here was two torches that burned defiantly on the opposite side of us near another doorway. I wasn’t interested really in finding out what the green goo was, let alone what this place was. What happened next—[the rest of the passage is indecipherable.]
[A holotape is enclosed]
“Welcome, visitors. . .or should I address you as intruders? Enemies or friends?” A cloaked shadowy figure emerged from the doorway opposite of the majestic flock, and The Mighty Bear God, its voice raspy. . .deep.
“We are seeking the Wizard, or whomever it is rumored that dwells here.” The Mighty Bear God replied.
“Ah, I see. Then you are on a pilgrimage, hmm?” The shade inquired.
“No. We just want to meet this. . .wizard. . .and then be on our way. We mean no harm, but we will use force if necessary.” The Mighty Bear God assured.
“Hmm, I see. Well, you must earn the right to see the Almighty Ali.”
“I am sorry, who?” The Mighty Bear God had never heard of this. . .Ali.
“Ali, Prince of The Ghouls. Master of Magics. Dark Knight of Ghoultham. Master of Ceremonies!” The shade stretched its hands to the ceiling in a very dramatic fashion.
The Mighty Bear God shook his head. “Nope. Still never heard of them.”
“Wha—? Really? I thought everyone had heard of me?” The shade dropped its arms and began talking to itself aloud. “Ugh, I should really see about getting a new social media specialist. . .maybe a new PR rep. . .do a relaunch.”
“Uh, hey, yeah, we’re still here.” The Bear God interjected.
“Huh? OH! Oh, yes, yes. Right. I’m sorry, who are you?” The shadowy figure snapped its attention back to those before him.
“I am Sin, The Mighty Bear God.” replied the magnificent beast.
“Ah. . .sorry, never heard of it.” The shadow replied.
The Mighty Bear God sighed. “It’s fine.” He cleared his throat to further address the shadow. “So, you’re the wizard guy. I get that.”
“OK, well, what’s with the pools of green shit, the darkness, and why the hell are you all the way down here?”
The wizard’s shade sighed. “Well, since you’re quite straight, I lead the ghouls. The green shit is acid, and is littered with the bodies of those who failed in the test to best me in dancing, and again, I am the leader of the ghouls. . .and the people above do not really like us. Since you know, we kinda resemble zombies.”
“Yeah, don’t use the zed word. People hate the zed word.” The Bear God chuckled.
“Right? Right. So, now you know.” The wizard replied.
The Mighty Bear God scratched his chin. “OK, so, can we talk. . .maybe pass. . .do something other than stand here? It’s making me nervous.”
The wizard enthusiastically replied, “sure, sure, we can do that.”
“Great. Lead the way.” The bear chimed.
“After you best me in dancing.”
The Mighty Bear God sighed. “Really? I didn’t come all this fucking way to do a little dance. . .maybe make some love, but not do dance. . .unless its the horizontal dance.”
“Ha, you’ve got moxie, kid. I’ll give you that.” The shade stepped closer towards the middle of the platform. “Tell ya what. If you beat me, you can have all the power that comes with it. You may claim yourself a ‘god’ now, but you see. . .I’m not just some cheap magician.”
With a flick of his wrist, and a snap of his fingers, the wizard ignited the room in a 70’s themed disco dance floor. . .minus the bar, food, patrons, and there was—wait, not there it was—complete with a disco ball that emerged on the ceiling.
The shade became more defined. He was very old, hair hoary and wild. Skin sagged on his loose person. And he wore a ragged black and white 70’s disco outfit, with black shoes. In fact, the shoes were probably the only thing about him that were clean.
“I know, I know, you’re thinking. . .an old man wants to dance?” The man smiled wide and proud. “Let me assure you, it ain’t just about the way I walk, folks.”
In a spin, and a typical disco stance—with his right hand in the air, pointing upwards. The man had transformed into his younger self.
“Impressive.” The Mighty Bear God genuinely remarked.
The man smiled his ice cream smile and gave a slight bow. “So, who wants to go first with the almighty Dancemancer, Jahn Trabolta?”
[Please play side B]