<snip some correction highjinks>

        Humming.  Cindy's hands fell onto her lap as she raised her
head.  Halebit was humming.  She twisted her head to let her
eyes prove to her unbelieving ears the truth.  There was
Halebit, eyes closed, standing in place letting his body sway to
the imaginary tune he hummed happily.

It's a small world, after all...
It's a small world, after all...

[How did you know?]

        Halebit strode toward his soldier until his face was mere
inches away from hers, "And don't do anything that would
displease me."

No squeezing the toothpaste tube from the middle!

[Halebit:  And don't chew with your mouthful.  It's rude.]

        Cindy did not move a muscle as Halebit stared intently at her
face, pausing to let his voice resonate in her mind.  "Malance
displeased me and he has yet to return."

Displease me, and I will curse you with a poor sense of direction!

[BANG!  
(in the distance) Owwwww.
 Halebit: See.]

<more sippin'>

 The echo of
the Traveller's voice bounced around in Darien's head, 'whore,
whore, whore, whore ...'

You know you can sing that to The Blue Danube.  

[I think anything can be sung to Blue Danube.]

        "Don't worry Raye.  Everyone's okay."  Michelle soothed.

For a sufficiently loose definition of "okay"...

[Michelle: Okay, they're *alive,* alright!?  At least I think they are.]

screamed in agony, a reminder of the old man who nearly killed
him.  He still could see the glowing red aura around the hand
constricting the life from him.  Those cold eyes.  For the first
time he actually saw the dark, abysmal color of maddness.

"madness" and it's really a kind of velvety maroon...

[Nah, I was thinking more of a bluish oatmeal color...]

        'Mina!  Lita's friend!  Oh, my precious Lita!'  His heart
throbbed at the thought of his brunette goddess.

It was his heart that was throbbing, right?  

[<looks left, then right>  Yeah, whatever you say.]

        Ken's eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at the
vaulted ceiling ignited by a sliver of light.

Aaah!  The ceiling's catching fire!

[o/'' Burnin' down the house! o/'']

<Kasnippa!>

 Her face, her blonde hair,
her mysticism, and her scandalously short orange skirt notified
Ken that he was dealing with the one and only. . . .

Madonna!

[Ahhhh, close.]

<Snaff!>

        'Maybe those tabloids do have an air of truth to them.'  Ken
shook his head to discontinue the unpleasant thought.

Nah.  This is a dub universe.  

[Oh, right.  High moralistic society, forgot.]

        "I see,"  Pluto's voice chilled his ears, "that you have
awakened from the attack."

And the Oscar for "stating the obvious" goes to...

[Pluto: I'd like to thank all those little people in the fic for
 letting me walk all over them to get this award!]

        He regretted this action immedaitely as the woman went silent
and her piercing stare became a burning glare.

Which warned him to beware
Lest she bean him with a chair

[Geez, I'm a lyrical genius.  Now if I could figure out just how the
 hell I did it...]

        Ken took a moment to digest this radical revelation.   "That
means that Lita is. . "

a talking cat!

[Hey, at least it ain't Babe.]

        Neptune gaze replied venomously, which bothered even Uranus.
"Not at all."

Actually our underwear is riding up.  

[The best of us all have a price to pay...]

        A slight salty wind caressed the weather-worn glass of the
window, its collection of crystal showing its age and neglect.
The window, at the sacrifice of itself, admitted nothing of the
further dilapidation within.  It succeeded in deceiving the
casual observer by distorting the faint light it ravenously
soaked in.  No one dared enter for fear of what lay beyond the
window.

That...window.  That horrible, terrifying, mind destroying window.
Few could look upon it without losing 3d6 SAN (except for the ones
who made their saving throw and only lost 1d6 SAN)

[I knew you do this, geez....]

        With the stealth of a voracious animal in the hunt, the
Timelord entered the main hallway, his eyes staying alert to
each and every  shadow cast by the dominating crimson glow from
outside.

Die-Hard the hunterrrr!

[Yeah, I can see it now, Bruce Willis running around killing
 people left and right with trigger-happy delight.  Oh wait...]

        But, no, it meant nothing.  Absolutely nothing.   He didn't
just to kill Halebit, he wanted to see him squirm, to taste
defeat.  And he wanted to be the one to serve it.

With a sprig of parsley, because gaspacho soup is a dish best served 
cold...

[Tracer: No, that's not how you make gaspacho!  You need garlic!
 Cindy: Actually, it should probably be oregano.
 Tracer: Whatever, I'm the Italian here.
 Halebit: She's right.  Oregano has that certain taste that satisfies the
 palate. <kisses fingertips> Moowaah!
 Tracer: Whatever, you're both a bunch ah meatheads!]

        Leaning gingerly against the door, he sucked in the
salt-saturated air and pushed the door open with his free hand.
His excitement mounted as he saw a mass of short white shoots of
hair welcoming him.

Hellooo
Hellooo
Hello!

[Tracer: Hey, quit sayin' that and don't appreciate you
 knockin' on my head as you're doin' it either.]

Thanks David, I've never seen you make so many
jokes during a C&C session.  That could be a good
or bad thing, but I'm assuming the first, <weak grin>.
Either way, it's nice to know beneath that gruff exterior
of a veteran C&Cer, a soft, gentle and taunting
comedian stalks within you.  <grin>  Thanks again.

Bastion