He (Sid) caught her (Lucilla's) eye and, in response, she slowly lowered both lids, permitting the barest nod of her head in acknowledgement of his presence. Ah! She had no plans to give him away. This might prove mutually....beneficial. Unseen, Bunny eyes watched from a small burrow under the stockade. In the shadows behind the main structure, a large clump of prairie grass suddenly darted up behind the throne platform.

***********

Sid looked at the General. Maximus was staring puzzledly down at the female intruder, wondering if he should swish his thing at her. Lucilla, groping for more Juicy Fruit wrappers, was hoping for that very...er...event. Sid, noticing she was groping somewhat in vain, alas, stepped in.

"Elder Brother, " he spoke quickly, "this...er...female...is not one of the evil intruders. Oh, no...she is an innocent captive only just now escaped from their clutches and come to you for protection."

Lucilla smiled, then tried to look newly escaped.

Maximus' instincts were aroused and he would have swirled his rust-colored cape about her shoulders as a sign he had taken her under his armpit...had he still been in possession of said cape...or even recalled what it was. Sid saw the slight, instinctive gesture, and, knowing instantly what it signified, said, "Your heart is looking for its cape, my Brother. But...amongst the invaders is one who has stolen it from you...and even now wears it proudly as a trophy of your downfall...your disgrace...your doom." The lightning crackled and zapped around Maximus as he narrowed his oceanblue eyes, looking back toward the gates.

"Well, it is, my Lady," whispered Sid to Lucilla, "that the General is currently capeless...else you would be quite...er...crisped."

"You mean...you mean..." spluttered Lucilla, "I have the General at last and I can't TOUCH him???"

Sid nodded, "Yes, my dear, I fear that in epis there is no sense of fair play or sharing of crayons."

Terry, meanwhile, had slipped behind curtain number 3 to the left of the throne. He heard a soft rustling behind him and turned, expecting Bud, but finding Ann. She looked about fearfully as she attempted to balance three torches atop a 15 foot high pole. Terry's eyes went wide with shock. "Ann! What are you doing here and WHY are you balancing three torches atop that 15 foot pole?"

The Peep bit her lower lip. However would she manage to explain about Mardi Gras customs at a time when they were not only quite some distance from New Orleans but in need of great stealth? Especially when the gauze curtain had just caught fire...and the flames were leaping greedily towards the nearest semblance of prairie grass?

Terry backed up a few steps. "Have you been tormenting Joimus offList again?" he asked in great fear, remembering the swamp of molten slime and the hammering of equipment indentations.

She hung her head in shame...as well she should. "Oh, Ann!" he nearly sobbed, his prairie grass beginning to smoulder, "when will you LEARN?"

Maximus' attention had been attracted by the flaming curtain and the large pile of prairie grass rolling frantically about near the throne. In long strides he gained the platform, grabbed the large tub of baking soda kept in perpetuity close beside the chair, and threw it over the pile.

A form very like his own stood and faced the General, two seagreen eyes blinking out of a totally whitened coating. The Village People ran away in fear. The Kayinarr Ghost had appeared! Oh, no! Would the Great Wa-Wat save them? The Shaman had carefully explained to them the dread dangers of the coming of the Kayinarr Ghost and his sidekick, Flammsmac the Firebringer. Indeed, Flammsmac was tottering hither and thither about the Hathawayesque, though without walls, structure, igniting it here and there with her waving firepole.

Jack paused mid-way across the plain, unable to believe the sight that greeted his seagreen eyeball telescopically. The thatched roof of the central structure was fully engulfed in fire as giant bolts of blue lightning shot upwards, wrapping about the individual tongues of flame in some strange, almost hypnotic tango of flowing motion. Below it stood three forms, all nearly alike in stature, differentiated mainly by the fact that one was discharging blue electricity and holding a gladius, one was thoroughly painted and wearing leopard skins and feathers, and the other was covered head to toe in white powder, though still smoldering a bit underneath. "Bless my soused ox face," he murmured, "and praise be I have not THEIR casting

director!"

Joimus looked at the Captain wryly, knowing full well he, of course, did. She looked over the massed cast, considering who best to send. Her scan stopped at Wanda and BertiWet's position. The small raincloud that had hovered over the two for the last three weeks might just prove useful at this point.

She walked over to the two sopping Peeps, carefully lifting the hem of her Fuegan gown out of their surrounding mudpuddle. "Did I hear sounds of volunteering?" she said, her eyes sliding meaningfully from their dampitude towards the flaming enemy village with its well-armed (not to mention legged) People, its lid-flipped General, its faux Sid Shaman...it ...its...Lucilla.

BertiWet glowered at Joimus. "And just HOW are we supposed to sneak up all unseen with this raincloud hovering over us, hmmmmm?"

Joimus smiled, her mind never really very far from A. A. Milne-ish thoughts of late, and she grabbed the passing BugMomDogPug, knowing as she did how the PugBugDogMom was never without at least one umbrella tucked somewhere within her vast supply of baskets.

"DogPugMomBug," she said, "there is an urgent mission of vast import that only you can accomplish for the good of Crowedom everywhere."

MomDogPugBug was immediately attentive. "You must walk beside Wanda And BertiWet into yon agitated and burning enemy village, holding your umbrella and saying repeatedly, 'Tut, tut...it looks like rain."

Jack was astounded at the cleverness of the plan, thinking to put it to good use himself next he came upon a larger vessel he needed to attack during a shower at sea.

BertiWet, always harder to convince, muttered softly, "Pooh!" She was cheered somewhat, though, by Cort and Lachlan volunteering to accompany them, used as they both were to being amongst the downdrops of rainstorms.

"Me, too," said Egan, joining them in his aqua sweater.

"Ah," BertiWet thought, "if only Bud were here the wet brigade would be more complete."

Bud was wiser than to be amongst them, though, having his own plan of action ...involving slamming Sid against the platform and stomping him for a while. He watched, though, from the chunky shadow of a dozing white rhino as Wanda and BertiWet headed across the plain, their raincloud hovering above them, soaking Cort, Lachlan, and Egan as well as the two Peeps,

PugDogBugMom bouncing along nearby with her umbrella and going, "Tut, tut...it looks like rain." It was an attack force truly to be reckoned with!

The ancient Storyteller of the village saw the raincloud first. How powerful their Wa-Wat was! Why the raincloud was floating right through the gates and up toward the flaming structure!

Lucilla, feeling the cool drops as it passed above her, narrowed her eyes in suspicion. It was all just TOO perfect...TOO unlike the normal behavior of small cloud formations. Her eyes darted about, but seeing only MomDogPugBug and her umbrella, could detect nothing to keep her suspicions aroused. It DID look like rain! What could possibly be suspicious about THAT? Just as she was about to turn her gaze back towards something more maximally magnificent, her attention was suddenly caught by dozens of feminine shapes in the darkness at the edge of the plain. Why, why. . . they were . . . they were . . . BEHOLDING! Her head whipped back towards the seemingly innocuous floating raincloud.

Only ONE thing could cause the beholding ceremony...and that was a wet CORT! Yes! How had she missed him, passing as he had within 6" of where she stood, his wet tendrils plastered so fetchingly about his face, his tongue out as he vigorously attempted to lap up the raindrops.

BertiWet saw the light of recognition ignite in the hostess' eyeballs. "RUN!" she cried, "RUN for the strangely Hathawayesque, but without walls, structure!!!"

Wanda dashed forward, tripped over Lachlan's dropped picnic basket, and were it not for the many layers of bubblewrap she habitually encased her person in, would almost certainly have maimed some vital part...if not of herself, of Egan.

Lachlan and Cort grabbed Wanda by her elbows, sprinting for the main building with BertiWet shouting, "RUN! RUN!" all the while.

Sid reached out, catching BertiLoud in strong fingers, so abruptly terminating her wild dash that the little black rain cloud was torn in half.

"GO ON!" BertiSnagged gasped to Wanda, who had hesitated at the capture. Wanda looked at the half of the raincloud left above her. It was showing signs of turning into a drizzle! Ack! She looked at Sid, smiling in triumph. She looked at the roof of the strangely Hathaw...oh...YOU know...as it was beginning to cave in upon Maximus...upon Terry...not to mention the little person with the long pole who was responsible for the whole thing! The universe went into slow motion. Individual drops of rain seemed almost suspended and Cort's wet tendrils swung slowly like strands of kelp floating upon a lazy sea. Lachlan's jauntily-perched hat unperched but hung in the air as though it were a thermal-riding peregrine. Even the pops of her bubblewrap reached her ears like the far, far distant chorus of Scandinavian gum-chewing girls at post-lunch recess. The music of Vangelis filled the African sky for, truly, it WAS an Olympiad, was it not? She reached the steps, her toe catching on the woven matting. Cort and Lachlan tried desperately to keep her on her feet. The support poles were beginning to snap.

Wanda looked up as....

*********

...her half of the little black rain cloud began to sizzle and evaporate in a manner strikingly similar to toad juice on a Mississippi sidewalk in July. She could not help but cast her mind back...back...away from the imminent toastitude of several cast members...back to where everything had been safe and she was a child again, lying happily on her belly amongst the fire ant mounds, whiling away the lazy summer afternoons squeezing her collection of pet toads.

BertiWet was beside herself with the greatness of her angst. Managing to twist her torso in Sid's arms, she faced the Chipman. Cleverly resorting to the unexpected, she planted a giant kiss upon his lips. Surprised, Sid loosened his grip just enough for her to clout him one with the tail of her Saint Bernard disguise. As he staggered, she broke free, running toward the toppling Wanda.

The two portions of the cloud rejoined, billowing up cumulously, and deluging the remains of the structure. Scorched wet thatch plomped down upon the Wa-Wat, the Kayinarr Ghost, and Flammsmac the Firebringer. The Village People watched in amazed silence as the Kayinarr Ghost appeared to melt before their eyes. Large globs and clumps of wet baking soda slid down its face as rivulets ran down its form, leaving strange trails where pinkish skin showed through.

The Great Leader, plucking thatch from his hair and beard, glared at the Ghost. The intruders had destroyed the strangely Hathawayesque, but without walls and now without roof, structure that was the only home he knew. He felt some sense of desolation...of great loss...that he could not explain or understand. Closing his oceanblue eyes a long moment, he saw inner flashes of hyena slobber, turbaned faces, baking sunlight. It meant...something...yet...nothing.

His younger brother came up beside him, laying his hand comfortingly on his arm. "Brother," Sid said, his eyes scanning the cast members within the compound, "you must see now that all I told you of the evil intentions of the intruders was truth."

Maximus nodded his head, then gestured for the Village People to gather up the array of evildoers. BertiWet, Wanda, Cort, Lachlan, Egan, BugDogMomPug, Ann, Terry...all were herded into a small corral at spearpoint. Bunny still watched silently from her little burrow under the fence.

Maximus walked down the charred steps and up to Lucilla. "And you...what of you?" he asked, cocking his head.

Lucilla turned her face briefly, sneaking a look at the captives in the goat corral, then in a display of great relief at having finally been freed from her imprisonment by the intruderfolk, managed to let a large tear trickle down her cheek. She reached one hand out, her fingers yearning to touch his massive chest, but the crackle of the blue electricity made her pause in mid-reach. Curling her fingers back reluctantly, she tipped her little face up, her lower lip quivering.

"Great One...I...I...was...was...down by the river near my village...er....beating my blind, crippled grandmother's laundry with rocks...when...when...I was brutally snatched by the...the...intruders and made to be their slave."

The General's brow knitted in great concern at the brutality of her story, of how she had been carried off from all she held dear...her tattered, one-armed teddybear... her newborn puppy... and made to bake raspberry pies to feed the ruthless hordes of intruders. How cruelly the poor, yet obviously brave, woman had been treated. Just the thought of it made his...er...sparks fly. They would pay! The lot of them!

Just then a raiding party of the most fierce of the Village People entered through the gate, dragging a roped-together group of prisoners, amongst them Jack, Juditha, Amanda, Biebe, and Joimus.

Sid could barely contain his delight. "THERE!" he shouted, pointing at Joimus, "THERE is your stolen cape, Elder Brother!"

Maximus turned, his oceanblue eyes following the line of his younger brother's finger as he recalled his earlier words, "...one who has stolen it from you...and even now wears it proudly as a trophy of your downfall...your disgrace...your doom." His cape was wrapped about the form of a female intruder, its hem dragging in the reddish dirt by reason of her lack of great height. He studied her. Was she deformed.... humpbacked? He had no way, of course, of knowing that under the cape she wore her gossamer backpack containing the carefully folded 450 pounds of his cast-off armor.

He walked toward the group off captives, followed closely by Sid. Stopping in front of Joimus, he ran the tip of the thing in his hand back and forth through the deep faux fur of the cape. The female intruder never took her eyes off his face. He was puzzled by the way unshed tears filled the lower lids of her eyes...eyes that were blue like his...only without the plasma glow. Why, he wondered, did his heart...hurt...when he looked at them?

"The cape! Get the cape away from her!" Sid ordered the Village Person in the construction worker helmet. The guard yanked the cape, causing Joimus to lose her balance. Jack quickly tried to steady her, but another guard shoved him and his telescope fell to the ground. Sid scooped it up, holding it out for Maximus to see.

"What is it?" the General asked.

"It is an implement of great evil, my Brother. It is a soul-stealer." Distracted momentarily from the female intruder, Maximus took the telescope in his hand, looking through the larger end at Sid. His eyes widened at the distortion of his sibling's appearance.

"NO!" shouted Sid in mock terror, crossing his arms in front of his face. "Do not look at me through it! It will suck my soul from my body!"

Maximus glowered at the Captain, obviously a villain to possess such an implement. Jerking his head towards the goat corral, he ordered, "Take them there....all but this female."

He turned to study her again, this one who had stolen his cape. She stood there ...alone....in a pale yellow gossamer Fuegan gown that had obviously seen better days. He simply had no memory of the long march over the Andes on their Starless Trek, the attack of the giant Bolivian moths, the dinner plans of the Python People of the Amazonian headwaters, the frightening encounter with Pancho Vanilla himself in the deserts of Chihuahua, of how Sid had replaced Oklahoma with Greenland to delay their arrival in Chicago, of...of...the attempts to restore the rose-stoned Tuscan villa before they chased the Nazgul ship around the Horn to the Galapashires. Yes...no wonder her gossamer gown was a bit worse for wear. Next time she would choose denim.

Why did she gaze at him like that...as though she were trying to impart some force of being into him? Sid, too, was aware of the gaze, aware of its inherent danger to his plans. Roughly, he grabbed the gossamer backpack, dumping its contents out at Maximus' feet. "See!" he said triumphantly, "She has stolen not only your cape, but also your...er...ceremonial garb."

The General's cuirass had come unfolded and rocked back and forth in the reddish dirt like some disenturtled shell. The words, "Here...use this!" flashed unbidden through his brain as he looked at the object, knowing without knowing how he knew that the words referred to a similar something, though not this particular one. This one carried the image of a wolf. The other...it had....was it....horses?

Everything was too jumbled. His head hurt. Grabbing his cape from the guard, he swirled it about his shoulders and strode rapidly through the gates....out into the darkness of the plain.

As she watched the familiar swing of the beloved rust-colored cape disappear into the black night, Joimus' tear finally spilled over her lid and trickled slowly down her cheek.

Sid, coming up beside her, plucked a feather from his necklace and with mock solicitation, caught the tear before it could complete its downward journey. Slowly, he licked the feather, then without a word, headed for the goat corral.

Not terribly far out in the plain, Bud snored softly in the company of the white rhino, unaware of the approach of the emotionally-distressed Commander of the Felix Legions.