AN ELDEREPI

     By: Jo, with parts by Diz, Judy, Susan, Sue, annsmac, Audrey, and Lucilla

 (Note: there had been a gap of some months in the co-authored epi writing on CrowePeople and I decided to try and get it started

again with this new set-up.  Onlist, Audrey had posted an e-mail to Lucilla...no relation to sisters of emperors living or dead...in which

she says of a party I had mentioned: "There IS no party, honey.  This happens every time the aides at the home allow Jo an extra

portion of rum.  They give her the rum because she thinks it's the H.M.S. Home, run by a dashing blonde captain.  Sad, but we try

our best to catch the rumors she has started and nip them in the Bud. So to speak." This was in June of 2003 and this storyline is the

ONLY storyline in which I was being, gulp, kind...and letting someone else have the General of the Felix Legions for the ENTIRE

storyline.  I was, in later epis (Journey Into Jeopardy) to pay a terrible and rather awesome price for this generosity of mind, body,

heart, soul, and spirit. Sigh! But it is in this storyline that the famous...or infamous, depending on how they are viewed...Fuegan

gowns the female cast members wear make their appearance...as well as the pink sponge itsveryself, that sponge that the good

Captain mentioned later with loose lips that nearly sank my ship.)

Part 1: (the set-up) by Jo
 

It was dark. The hillside was terribly steep Jack wondered how, without ropes, he would

manage the climb to the Home, perched as it was atop the narrow ledge between condor

nests. He set his fine jaw, teeth clenched in determination.

Nothing would stop him now. He had come too far. WAY too far!
 

Now, here he was...at last. The H.M.S. Home was only a week's journey up the steep

nail-embedded face of the glass-like sheer cliff. What was that to HIM? His Jo awaited

on the ledge! He had promised her, he had, that velvet night in the Venezuelan cave, that

he would return in time to take her to Lucilla's party. He laughed! The Michigan woman

had tried to convince him there WAS no party! But he knew better! Jo had said there

was. And Jo was a noble woman. A woman of principle.
 

In the darkness, a sudden mournful wail rose up from the dry riverbed a half mile below,

then was cut abruptly off as though an alley cat had been smucked with a large brick.

Jack, his ears keen from years of listening to dolphins talk, knew, though, that it was

merely Lucilla herself. Doubtless, she had yet once again forgotten her large, golden

barge simply would NOT fit between the giant triangular boulders straddling the wild

cataracts that formed the entrance to her vast Fuegan estate here almost at the very tip

of South America.

"Damn!" shouted Lucilla, stomping her dainty foot on the barge deck. "You there!" she addressed one of her oarsmen. "Get those sacks OFF Ute or she'll never be able to climb

the teensy, wobbly rope ladder the half-mile up to my hacienda on the ledge." Lucilla,

you see, was most considerate of her guests. 

The oarsman, a young man of some promise whom Lucilla had rescued last spring from

his servitude as a dishwasher in an Australian dive, brushed his brown hair back from

his sweaty forehead, smiled, and began to lift the 40 or so canvas bags of Doritos from off

the disgruntled guest.

"Sheesh!" the unbagged Ute exclaimed in some irritation. "Somebody better come out

and play with the Pittsburgher or none of us will be safe!!!" (My attempt to get others to

add to the story.)

It was true. The words Ute spoke. Very true. For, in the very next instant, Andrea ran

lickety split down the entire length of the golden barge, chased closely by a giant Fuegan

bee. She whipped wildly at it with Venetian blind cords, but the giant bee only grinned

and flew faster. How was the Londoner to know that Fuegan bees have a passion for

Venetian blind cords? How, indeed? There was no escape for Andrea but to leap blindly

over the rail and into the rushing cataract!!!
 

A gallant "someone" leapt instantly after her. He was bald...not bald like a bald eagle is

bald with white feathers all over its head...but really, really BALD bald! A knife was

clenched in his teeth. A knife? Why did the strange bald guy need a knife to save Andrea

from the cataracts? It was because....

Part...2..by Diz

He had noticed that the Venetian blind cords had wrapped around Andrea's ankles and

she was in no position to free herself. He swam strongly after her, watched from the poop

deck by The Dizzy, captain of the vessel. She had been distracted for a moment from her discussions with her handsome Horsemaster, whose skills she hoped would help her in

the forthcoming seahorse racing meet. He was explaining the need to capture the Silver Seahorse, a famed creature whose speed and beauty were unmatched.

"I'll catch the silver devil" the Horsemaster cried striding away from the Dizzy towards.....
 

Part 3: Jo

....the Welsh bastard deckhand who always wore the inner tube about his neck. Egan 

would know no rest until the Silver Seahorse were captured and placed as the centerpiece

on the hors d'oeuvre sidebar at Lucilla's party. Lucilla had had Amanda laboring in the

back reaches of the kitchen all day, painstakingly applying gold plate to the 11,000 snail

shells that were to be glued to the wall in delicate floral patterns above the sidebar. Lucilla, Queen of all things Fuegan, was, you see, somewhat of a perfectionista. It had been, indeed,

she who had instructed her doorman, East, in the finer uses of the whip. Egan bit his lip as

he stood near the rail, holding the yellow and orange striped innertube, waiting for the

Bald One's head to break the surface of the cataract....hopefully with an unvenetiancord-

bound Andrea in tow. He was not worried about Andrea. He remembered well how she

had survived those long months barefoot among the yakpeople of the northernmost reaches

of the frozen wastelands of Mexico City. She was a survivor, that one! The Bald One had

taught his woman well.

No, he bit his lip as he meditated on the fate that awaited him were he to fail in his task of catching the elusive, non-existent (which REALLY made it elusive!) Silver Seahorse. Turning

his head slightly, he studied Captain Dizzy as she stood there on her slanted Scottish poop

deck. Would she be able to protect his... honor...from an enraged Lucilla? He thought of

the over-used  chains  hanging from the  clammy stone walls of the  dungeon under her

hacienda. An involuntary shudder shook his sturdy frame, causing his armpit hairs to curl.

Dizzy smiled at him encouragingly. He liked the way that only every other one of her teeth

were missing. The battles that woman had been in! She was a marvel of capable womanhood! There was not a Scottish highlander, lowlander, or even middle-lander who was better with

the claymore (or even the clayless) than she! Egan knew her talents and abilities would stand them all in good stead at Lucilla's Party.

Part 4: Jo (sorry, here at the beginning there were a lot of very short paragraphs that

didn't really fit and so are not all included)

Meanwhile, higher up in the Fuegan estate, the valiant Jack laboriously climbed....and

climbed. Only a few thousand more yards to go and he would be there...there on the ledge between the condor nests... there where his Jo awaited, eating bananas and playing with

her pet aardvark. There was little to do, you see, at the H.M.S. Home when the seagulls

were gone. Watching Audrey twirl endless hour after endless hour atop her milking stool

while she sang haunting off-Broadway tunes from 1942...well, the pleasure inherent in that

just did fade after 2 or 3 weeks.
   

Taking her last bite of banana and throwing the peeling artfully at the base of the milking

stool, Jo rose and walked alone in her long gossamer gown to the carved railing that over-

looked the vast chasm that split Lucilla's Fuegan estate into two unequal parts. The smell

of sea salt reached her nostrils. Jack! It must be Jack! Only HIS golden hair smelled so

strongly of the ocean currents wherein he swam  in the glorious suit of his birth.    

She sighed. Yes....Jack. He was coming! Soon her entrapment would be over and she would

be free! Free to attend the party. With her Jack. She closed her eyes, picturing the gala

event. Lucilla would probably wear her golden gauze dress with the tiny pompoms. Doubtless there would be music. Would TOFOG actually be there? Jo had promised NOT to wear

fringe and patent leather. Surely they would come. The lead singer reminded her oftimes of

her own Jack. But why?
  

Her reverie was broken by the arrival of her trained homing crowe. Quickly she broke open

the large capsule attached to its left leg with embroidery thread. It was from Juditha!!!  She

was in trouble! Oh, no! Jo looked wildly about the balcony. She must go to Juditha! But how?
 

Part 5: Jo

Juditha had written in desperation that Lucilla had chained her to the mucking fork in the guest-horse stalls. Jo was somewhat relieved to know that, at least, Juditha was not spending long hours sitting in the cinders any more. But, nevertheless, all was not fair in the world of Maximus-possession when a protagonist was de-pooping far below the scene of the action.
  

Jo leaned out over the railing as far as she could without losing her balance. Ah! Jack was

not far below now! Turning her head, she studied the 3 mile-long, ancient, frayed, wildly-swinging, board-rotted rope bridge that led from the H.M.S. Home to the ledge where

Lucilla's hacienda lay on the far side of the world...er...chasm.
 

With Jack at her side, she was tempted to attempt it. These ice-encrusted sheer mountains

had earned their names as THE TOWERS OF PAIN!!! Lucilla had chosen well the location

of her lair...er...home. Then there were those two top spurs of the mountain that rose up

like horns, curving over the top of the sprawling mansion. (It was all Lucilla's fault for

having sent Jo a picture of the Torres del Paine.)

(Note: These are the actual Torres del Paine near the Straits of Magellan in Tierra del Fuego.  The HMS Home is, um, atop the tower

on the right, while Lucilla's hacienda is atop the taller one on the left.)

Jo shuddered as the wind grew stronger, making the rope bridge flip completely over from

time to time. The giant mound of skeletons at the bottom of the chasm under the bridge was, alas, not comforting, either. Narrowing her eyes, she could make out the tiny form of the

distant golden barge, now moored at the base of Lucilla's mountain. The gentlemen in tuxes

DID rather resemble penguins at this distance.
 

No...wait! Those WERE penguins! But...why were they armed? Oh, well...she had more

pressing matters to attend to at the moment. A mental image of poor Juditha, up to her

kneecaps in, well, you know... spurred her to call down to her captain, "Hurry, Jack,

hurry! Now that you have spent the last week climbing up this nail-embedded, glass-like

cliff, we need to get across the upsidedown, rotting, 3-mile-long frayed rope bridge to the OTHER Tower of Pain!"
  

Jack frowned. Now WHY would he do that, Jo wondered. But soon he was over the railing

and in her arms and she buried her nose happily in his sea salt-smelling hair, pausing only

 long enough to flip aside several pesky octopus tentacles that were entangled in it. Such

was life when one loved a sailor!
  

After 72 minutes of wild kissing, Jack stood quietly, holding her upturned face between his

two large hands. "Now, my Jo, what was it you were shouting down to me?"
   

"The bridge...the bridge...we must cross the wildly-swinging, quickly-disintegrating rope

bridge that leads from one Tower of Pain to the other across the Chasm of Doom in order

to save Juditha from the ...er...horse poo...and then attend Lucilla's gala party. You see,"

she continued most earnestly, "there are 1531 guests waiting impatiently for this party to

get the heck started and Andrea is STILL wrapped snuggly in her seaweed cloak and Diz's

deck is slanting so terribly that only Egan's firm grip is enabling her to keep standing at

all, and...well... we really, really NEED to get to the far side of the world...er... chasm." Jo

didn't know why that phrase kept sticking in her brain when she looked at her captain.
   

Gazing quickly behind her, Jo noticed Audrey had acquired some burly company on her

milking stool and had updated her singing to tunes of the 1950's. She would let Audrey

wend her own way to Lucilla's party...that is if the liberrian were still to find it interesting,

given her current occupation.

Taking her captain's left hand in her right, Jo and Jack climbed over the railing and took

their first tentative step out onto the rope bridge. The vulture perched just to one side

suddenly grinned.

Part 6: Lucilla

Meanwhile back at the barns,  Juditha was not paying proper attention to her mucking

duties. It seems that Cort had arrived in the stalls and his presence was proving to be

mighty distracting.  Still,  she only had one main thought occupying her...how to wrest

Maximus away from Lucilla. Another part of Juditha's duties required her to maintain

the rope bridge over the Chasm of Doom. She'd fixed the bridge all right, but not for the best........
 

Part 7: Jo

It was that aging shoelace that worried Juditha the most. Why, oh, why had she used it to

attach the end of the bridge to the rusty post? Straining her long chain as far as it would go,

she peeked wearily out the opening of the last of the 456 stalls she had mucked that day.

Three miles away, through the mist, she could see Jack and Jo struggling to hold on. Thank goodness Jo was with Jack, she thought! All his years in the ratlines and rigging of monsoon-tossed ships would certainly pay off NOW! She was not worried! No! Not in the least! Give

them a good 30 seconds and they would make it safely across...even if the bridge were

sideways and covered with wet moss infested with mutant fire ants. No problem!
 

She turned her attentions elsewhere. Cort stood there in the shadows of the 456th stall,

eyeing her chain. She knew Lucilla had sent him deliberately to distract her from her

Maximus thoughts. He did look remarkably like her Maximus, only a few years younger

and with more hair. She admitted a certain attraction to him, but it was the more mature,

more commanding Maximus that had claim to her heart. Besides, Grecian Mary was even

now donning her Stetson and six-guns as she readied herself to accompany him to the party. 

As was Paula G.  The plot would get terribly tangled, Juditha knew! Terribly!
 

Juditha studied the  seagreen eyes looking so  soulfully at her chain.  She saw memories

swirling in their depths. Suddenly, as though waking from a long trance, Cort shook his

head, strode across the now-gleaming-so-white-you-could-eat-off-the-floor stall, grabbed

the mucking rake from the surprised Juditha's immaculately-groomed for a stallmucker's

hand, and in one swift motion, used it to break her chain. He held out a strong arm, the

wrist badly scarred from manacles, and a slow smile spread across his handsome, though

dusty, face.

"Come!" was all he said. How like Maximus' voice, Juditha mused, as without a backward glance she followed him out of the stall and up the two inch wide goat trail that led through

the cactus and scaled the looming  side of the tallest of the Towers of Pain. Juditha grinned. Would Lucilla ever be surprised!! Heh! Heh!
  

Meanwhile, back on the golden barge, Egan and Arthur had grabbed Andrea by...various places...and had hauled her back aboard. Hando managed to kill the giant squid attempting

to eat his left knee and climb aboard by himself.  The two of them lay there in a seaweed-wrapped, gasping heap as Cap'n Dizzy slid down the deck to make sure they had not been

overly disassembled.  Arthur was trembling. How near he had come to losing the one true, though unspoken, love of his life!  What he would not give were Andrea to be his companion

for the gala at Lucilla's hacienda!  It was...a dream he had.
   

Lucilla herself was walking rapidly through her mile-long hacienda, checking that the

last details for the party were attended to.  She fluffed the pile of ostrich-plume fans as

she passed, straightened some strands in the glittering bead curtains, tossed a breadcrumb

to the trained chipmunks,  flicked a cooled lava flake from the purple fainting couch, and continued on into the first of her 35 bathrooms to make sure the hot tubs were all filled

with warm champagne. It was time for her to dress. She was having SUCH a hard time

choosing her gown! Would it be that golden gauze one with the teensy pompoms or not?

Mayhap she would choose the red net one with the goldfish design? Or perhaps the velvet

one of midnight blue...the one that had taken the 3 tribes of native Fuegans 17 years to

attach the diamonds to in that clever pattern of every known constellation? Decisions!

Decisions! But...before she could decide...the massive front door of her hacienda was

thrown open and in strode....

Part 8...by Judy

...could it BE?..... MAXIMUS! He LOOKED like Maximus... tho his hair was a bit longer. Beneath the familiar breastplate, Lucilla noticed .... a holster? Strange, she thought ...

Maximus had never had a holster before. But he stood there, saying, "My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius ... husband to a ...."

"YES!!! ....  YES!!! Lucilla squealed. (Although the speech seemed almost robot-like.) 

"Come in!  Come in!  I've been waiting for you, my dearest General."
 

If only Lucilla's rapidly-beating heart had not drowned out the sound of Juditha's steed galloping away . Juditha's plan,  which had it's conception in the 489th stall, had worked!!
 

Cort was handsome ....but he WASN'T Maximus. And he had this one, terrible weakness

.... raspberry pie. And with that revelation, Juditha had been able to weave her lovely

deception ...  (cackle...cackle...cackle). Given the assurance that if he merely POSED as Maximus and stood at Lucilla's door, he would have his greatest desire satisfied (Lucilla

spent her life dedicated to the baking of raspberry pies in addition to plotting how to

entrap the affections of the General) Cort had but only to continue to convince Lucilla

hat he, indeed, was her own true General. Juditha would have Lucilla exactly where she

wanted her ... as far away from the REAL Maximus as possible!

Part 9...by Jo

Alas, Juditha had not taken into account young Grecian Mary, who, deciding not to wait

for ship, barge, or plane, had swum rapidly from Greece to Tierra del Fuego that afternoon,

and was even now 3/4 of the way up the wobbly rope ladder.  Mary was not from the home

of the Olympics for nothing, you know!!! In far-off Greece she had heard a strange sucking

in of air coming over the south western horizon.

"Oh, NO!" she cried, dropping the chisel with which she was repairing the upper reaches

of the Parthenon, and instantly running to the coast and diving in the blue Aegean. She

had recognized that sound, of course, as Cort's inhalation of the wafting scents of Lucilla's raspberry pie! All during the long afternoon as she had swum through 3 hurricanes,  she

had repeated over and over and over..."No...no...no! Not Cort! Not MY Cort! Not in Lucilla's raspberry clutches!"

It was nearly more than the young teacher could bear! Breaking apart the ice floes with

her bare hands as she neared Fuegan waters,  Mary swam even faster. Once up the last of

the cataracts, Mary stealthily climbed out of the water in the shadow of the golden barge,

totally unseen. She donned her red Stetson, buckled on her brace of pistols, and began the

long climb up the wobbly ladder. She would deal with Paula G later. Right now, it was

Lucilla who stood directly in front of her man, raspberry pie held out enticingly. Had

that woman no shame? No morality at ALL?
  

Arriving at last at the edge of the ledge, Mary stepped into the shadow of a conveniently-

placed wax replica of Barry Manilow.  The massive front door of the hacienda had been

left open by stallmucker escapee Juditha and Mary had a clear view of Cort's back as he

stood there, transfixed by the sight and smell of warmed raspberry pie.

As Juditha's hoofbeats receded in the distance, Mary began to worm her way toward the doorway, gathering a deep coating of Fuegan dust on her person in the process. She smiled

in her adorable Grecian way. Cort would like THAT, he would!  Thoughts of imminent

dust-exchanging in her heart, she quietly and carefully aimed her lasso. With a single,

mighty tug, she yanked Cort backwards out the door and down the curving flight of

marble stairs.

"Ooooooooo," she said softly between clenched teeth as she watched him bounce.
She DID want the man in one piece, after all. Lucilla was so shocked by Cort's sudden disappearance right before her very eyes, that she dropped the raspberry pie with a

splat on the white wool carpeting.

The splatting sound reached Juditha's ears as she galloped. Instantly she reined her steed.

"Oh, NO!" she cried, for she knew the pie splat could mean only one thing! Cort had been

taken and now Lucilla would be looking for the true Maximus! In the gathering twilight, she pulled out the lit lantern she kept in her bodice for such emergencies, waving it in an oblate pattern to signal someone waiting in the deep recesses of the emerald mine at the far end of

the ledge atop the highest Tower of Pain. Would he see it? YES! She got her answer in the

form of a flaming arrow, sent arcing across the evening sky. Her heart pounded in relief.

She readied herself to continue her ride to the emerald mine, when the reins of her horse

were grabbed by a well-built man dressed all in purple. Sid! Juditha's eyes narrowed as

she saw who it was.

Sid merely laughed and said,"....

Part 10...by Jo

"Get off the horse, Juditha!" 

Juditha still sat in her saddle a moment, considering whether to employ the use of the

battleaxe that hung at her belt. But...seeing that Sid had a large piece of plate glass

leaning against a nearby stump, knew that any dismemberment would be only temporary,

so she reluctantly dismounted. It paid to know one's characters well when one was in an

episode, it did, it truly did.
 

Sid swung into the saddle with ease. Hmmmmm?, thought Juditha. Sid has never been on

a horse before. How did he do that so well?
 

Sid, noting the large red question mark that appeared over Juditha's head, smiled his

perfect smile and said, "You must remember, my dear, I have ALL the characters inside

me!"

Juditha frowned there on the ledge in the twilight atop the highest Tower of Pain. She

thought only Russ had ALL the characters inside him. But, then, Sid was not well known

for his regard for the truth.
 

Sid turned the horse and rode back toward Lucilla's hacienda, leaving Juditha still far

from the emerald mine. He did not realize, however, that Juditha had spent her early

years carrying the mail between St. Louis and Denver as the first woman pony express

rider who preferred to run. Soon, only a trail of dust puffs were left to show her route as

she sprinted like a love-sick gazelle toward her heart's desire. Would Maximus still be

waiting in the deep recesses of the emerald mine? Well, if this epi went like most of them

seem to do, he probably would not. And, of course, such was the case.
   

"Maximus! Maximus!" Judith called out anxiously as she arrived at the mine. No deep

rumbling answer reached her waiting ears. But there...lying on the floor in a puddle of

blue nanogoo...was the cigarette lighter Maximus always used to set his signal arrows

ablaze.

"SID!" The name escaped her white lips more like a hiss than a word. She should have

known the evil computer chip was up to no good there on the ledge in the twilight atop

the highest of the Towers of Pain!!!  But...but...her General of the Armies of the North

had not been with Sid when he had grabbed the reins of her horse a short while ago.

What had happened to her gladiator?? What? What, indeed?
   

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...er...hacienda.... Mary had unlassoed the slightly bruised

Cort as he lay in the dust at the foot of the curving marble staircase.

"Mary!" he said in soft wonderment. "I thought you were repairing the upper portions

of the Parthenon and wouldn't make it in time for the party."
 

"Ah, " she replied as she leaned over his prostrate form, her hair brushing lightly across

his dusty cheek. "Did you not know that nothing...not even revered ancient Greek historical icons...could keep me from your side?"
 

Cort, actually, had NOT known that and had promised Paula G that he would accompany

her to the party. As the plot thickened on the front driveway,  the scene moved back down

to the golden barge, moored  now on the River of Pain that ran whooshingly between the

two tallest of the Towers of Pain. Why, one wonders, was there so much pain in Fuego?

It must be because there were way, way more CroweWomen than characters. That was definitely one possibility. But, alas, not the only one.
 

Arthur leaned over, gently unwinding a large piece of brown, rubbery seaweed from

around Andrea's thigh. This action, however, was interrupted by a deep, menacing

rumble coming from a very nearby and highly decorated throat. "Feeling brave, are

you, Welshboy?" 

Hando sat there in his strangely still immaculately white tight white jeans (tight white

pants never get smudged, you know), wiping the last remnants of pulverized squid from

his knee.

Captain Dizzy quickly grabbed her oarsman by the back of his collar, pulling him from

harm's way. She was very protective of her crew. Even the Welsh ones. "Not today, Hando,

 not today," Dizzy said in her sternest captain's voice. "There will be NO Welsh blood

staining my slanted deck today." 

Hando lowered his long-lashed lids to half mast and the setting sun twinkled briefly on his

left canine tooth as he smiled. So far, in his experience, there was usually a tomorrow.
   

Our camera now pans over to the gangplank where several of the party guests were, at long

last, getting their own chance to depart for the party at the hacienda. Terry was using his equipment to help two ladies ascend the wobbly rope ladder. Amanda and Annette (the

A-list of Terry's heart, you see, as annsmac was not in Fuego at this time) were most grateful

for the assistance as the rope ladder was not only wet and covered with sharp coral, but

was quite, quite lengthy.

BugPugMom stood at the base of the tallest of the Towers of Pain. Her heart was torn.

She wanted to be on the ledge, dancing the night away with her BiebeBaby, but the thought

of the ladder ascent was more than she could bear. Suddenly there was a rumbly shout from

the edge of the ledge and a...a... a...yes...it was...it really, really WAS...oh, NO.... a BASKET

 was lowered on a long rope.

BugPugMom gasped in disbelief! How could this be happening to her AGAIN??? (She had recently  been T oto in  NeverNever Oz  and spent most of her days  tucked  tightly in

Bertothy's tiny basket.) Moaning, she sank to her knees in despair.

This is appropriate, you will note, as she WAS on the bank of the River of Pain and at the

base of the Tower of Pain. A little moaning despair fit right in, it did, it did! But it was Biebe

on the other end of the rope. And she trusted Biebe much more than she would ever trust

anyone who would actually write an epi, now didn't she??? And, besides, this basket was

large and lined with swan's feathers and had champagne cup holders and a fine stereo

system. It wasn't at ALL like the tiny basket with the lid that she had found herself stuffed

so unceremoniously inside back in NeverNeverOz. So, gathering her courage, she stepped

inside and Biebe began pulling her up the sheer, ice-encrusted side of the tallest of the

Towers of Pain. Why, she passed floatingly right by Terry and his two A-women. This was

not so bad, she thought, just as she heard the sound of snapping ropes about 4 feet above

her head.
 

Part 11...by Jo

Whoooosh! Down the swan-feather-lined basket fell toward the jagged points of the ice stalagmites clustered at the base of the wobbly rope ladder. Let's see. What sort of mood

did the epi writer find herself in? Hmmmmm? Well.....Terry WAS right there as she fell, shrieking, toward him on the cliffside, now wasn't he? And was our Terry, wont as he was

to rescue folk, about to let her be impaled somewhat painfully upon ice stalagmites? Well...

was he? Nah! Tucking Amanda under one armpit and Annette under the other, Terry

extended his equipment at exactly the right second to terminate (strange choice of wording, there) BugPug's descent.

This left our Terry in a position greatly reminiscent of the ascent up the sheer cliff in The Princess Bride. It was a good thing that our Terrence had arms as massive as tree trunks!

Not to mention the finely honed quality of his equipment. Holding onto the 3 women,

Terry continued on up the remaining yards of wobbly rope ladder using his teeth and

toes.
   

Meanwhile, back on the sideways, frayed, fireant-infested 3-mile-long rope bridge high

above the River of Doom, Jack was easily and lightly hopping along, Jo perched daintily

on his shoulder. Arriving at stall number 456 only to discover Juditha's broken chain lying

on the immaculate floor, they, too, quickly darted up the 2" wide path that scaled the rest

of the tallest of the Towers of Pain.

"What do you think happened to Juditha," Jo asked as they ascended rapidly past the multitudinous nests of the Fuegan crested cara cara birds. (I kid you not...those are the

birds that live in Tierra del Fuego!)

Jack glanced far below at Last Hope Inlet, where Lachlan was landing his somewhat

crowded teensy plane, loaded with stacked European CroweWomen. Too bad, he thought,

that the runway there was only 5 feet long and in the middle of the grazing lands of the

giant herd of guanacos, the wild cameloids of Fuego.  

                                                
But Lachlan was an excellent pilot and made a perfect seven-point landing in the center

of the herd. This, of course, meant that his 3 wheels, the tips of both wings, the top of the

rudder, and his windshield all touched the ground at the same time. Not just ANY pilot

could accomplish THAT, Lachlan thought, as he lay in the tall grass on his back, 7 or 8 CroweWomen sprawled across him.

Rose was the first to gain her feet. Straightening her rumpled skirt, she glared up the

tallest of the Towers of Pain at Jo scampering along the goat trail with Jack. "Humph!"

she humphed in a really cute French accent. "Keeping Jack all to herself! If only she had

let him skipper us across on his vessel! But nooooo!" Then she caught sight of Biebe atop

 the ledge, holding the end of a snapped rope and forgot all about Jo. Ah! Puck-man

himself! Gathering up her belongings, she headed for the base of the sheer cliff.

Susan Guildford also rose and followed Rose. (Did that deliberately...the roses, I mean!)

She was keeping her eyes peeled. The left one looked for young Johnny and the right one

for Zack. Distracted momentarily by a clump of rare blue poppies, she knelt by one, gazed tenderly at it a long moment for reasons best known to herself, then up the cliff at Jo.

If only...she thought... if only.

Ute went in search of Jeffrey. Sarah was there, checking Lachlan's body parts for damage. Lachlan was fine, despite several attractive rips in his uniform, and he headed for the

poppies, intending to pick a bouquet to give Sarah.

Susan shrieked, "Don't TOUCH the poppies!" She continued to growl softly as Lachlan

backed away. No one but Jo knew what trials she had been through trying to grow them

back in England. She and Jo were charter members of the Dead Blue Poppy Society.

Suddenly trumpets played a loud fanfare. Everyone's head turned to see the cause. It was

Sue the Formerly Sometimes Vile. She was inflating her pocket helicopter and smoke was steaming out of her ears. The heat waves rising from her head were so hot that various and sundry mirages appeared. The rest of the Europeans shuddered. What lay in store for

Grecian Mary and Paula G now that SUE was in Fuegan grass space? No wonder the

trumpets blared!!!
 

When all the Europeans had safely deplaned...or, in this case, deLachlaned, the scene

switched back to the golden barge where Juditha had arrived, her pockets full of emeralds

and a nanogoo-covered cigarette lighter. There was...something...about the presence of the

barge that prickled at the back of Juditha's thoughts. What WAS it? Why the Cleopatra

thingy on Lucilla's part? Was there some reason beyond personal vanity? Was it all part

of some vast plot? WAS there a plot?
 

Suddenly a loud *click* clicked in Juditha's brainpan. "Was it the clock?" Cort, up on the ledge, asked Grecian Mary?

"No," Mary replied with the recognition the brain of the teacher of small children has for

 the brain of another. "It was just one of Juditha's synapses, that's all."
 

A giant light bulb appeared in the air above Juditha's head. She, you see, was very open

with her thoughts and feelings, hence the large red question mark and now the light bulb.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. Of course!!! Barge! Nile! Queens! ...what did that all

lead to but...but... Roman soldiers!!!! Why had Cleopatra taken her giant barge to Actium

but to impress Anthony? Why had Lucilla brought her golden barge up the River of Pain

 but to impress the General of the Armies of the North!!!!

Oh, YES!!! Juditha understood it ALL now!!! She crept silently up a slender oar, gaining entrance to the grand bathing hall. A bubble-covered man was in the large pool. A cigar

and cell phone floated nearby. A CroweWoman tucked herself behind the man's back, not

to be seen. Juditha smiled. Did she not know her characters well enough to discern Steve

and Leah?

Leaving them to their ablutions, Juditha continued down the passageway. An especially

sturdy door caught her eye. It was locked with bolts and chains and bars and padlocks and

all such. She paused. She sniffed the air. A definite scent of ripe wheat and wet wolf fur

came to her. She smiled. She had found him! As she studied the locks, a form appeared at

the far end of the passageway. It was.....

Part 12...by Jo

....alas...Sid again. Would the chip-man NEVER leave off tormenting her?

He smiled and said something she could not understand, never having had the time to learn

the native Tehuelche language. His smile grew wider. How DARE the chip look so much

 like her Maximus at times!!

"If," Sid continued, "you knew all the known languages of the world, as I, in my perfection, do...you would know that in Tehuelche the correct translation of the Torres del Paine is

NOT the Towers of Pain...but the BLUE Towers!"

Still smiling, he took several steps in her direction. "They are, you see, where my interior

blue nanogoo is mined, and are the source of all my strength and all my great perfectness."

Taking Juditha by the wrist, he pulled her down the passageway to the room beyond the

one she had figured Maximus was being kept prisoner in, pushed her inside and locked

the door. Juditha could hear his receding footsteps and evil laughter as he went toward

the grand bathing hall. Turning toward the wall that separated the two rooms, Juditha

began pounding on it, shouting "Maximus! Maximus! Can you hear me, my darling?"
     

Meanwhile, having reached the top of the highest of the Towers of Pain (Sid was correct,

but we shall still refer to them in this manner), Jack and Jo ran quickly to the emerald

mine in search of Juditha (her present situation being as yet unknown to them). Quickly

Jo pulled the silver flashlight charm off her bracelet, pushed the button that enlarged it

to full size, and lit up the interior of the mine entrance.

She gasped! It was a fake! It was NOT an emerald mine at ALL! A few emeralds had been carefully planted around the entrance to give the false impression that it was, but in the

brilliant beam of her flashlight, Jo and Jack clearly saw the burbling river of blue nanogoo

deep down in its far recesses.

Jo, her eyes wide, turned to Jack. "This does not bode well for the plot, does it, my

Captain?"

Indeed, what had begun as a simple gathering of CroweWomen at Lucilla's residence

was rapidly becoming more and more like Lara Croft meets Indiana Jones and the League

of Extraordinary X-men Hulks at the Temple of Terminators.

Jack decided they should go to Lucilla's hacienda and enter there without being seen.

Leaping into the driverless rickshaw pulled by two guanacos that just happened to be

passing the entrance of the faux emerald mine at the moment, they arrived quickly at

the hacienda. Hiding behind a large cage of Patagonian gray foxes (what possible use did

Lucilla have planned for THOSE?), Jack studied the exterior of the enormous hacienda

with an expert eye.

"There!" he said, pointing at a tall tower on the back side of the building. "It is far from

the main entrance and totally covered in bright red ivy."

He pulled two thin, bright red folding capes from his breast pocket, handing one to Jo.

"Here, wrap yourself in this and we will blend completely in with the ivy." It was amazing,

was it not, that they always had exactly what they needed?

Jack started climbing, showing Jo  what to take  hold of and where.  Hmmm?  Should I

actually LEAVE that phrase in the epi or not? Oh, well! Too late now, I guess! There was

a tall, narrow window just under the pointed green roof. Jack grasped its sill, peering

through the diamond-paned glass. Empty! It opened easily at his touch, and he climbed

through, then helped Jo into the round chamber. The walls were bare stone, though

several leopard skin rugs (how very unPC!!) hung here and there on them. The floor

was covered in a 12" thick layer of pink sponge. Just what DID Lucilla use this chamber

for anyway???

Flinging off their red capes, they headed in a rather bouncy fashion toward the door. It

had been left halfway open and, together, they studied what lay beyond. Spiral steps led

down to the main part of the hacienda. Cautiously they descended, Jack's hand resting on

the hilt of his cutlass.

Loud sounds, alternating with muffled laughter, emanated from an alcove nearby. Violet

petals and wet noodles littered the floor both inside the alcove and in the wide hallway

just beyond. Jack and Jo exchanged puzzled glances, then Jo suddenly made the connection.

"Audrey!" she whispered in Jack's ear. "It HAS to be the liberrian! Just before you

arrived at the H.M.S. Home, she had spent some time in the kitchen, boiling pot after pot

after potof noodles. And every time I would pass her room, the scent of violets was so

strong it almost knocked me down."

A deep rumbling laugh came next from the alcove...a laugh that turned into a silly,

drawn-out mooo sound. What WAS Audrey UP to??? Then Jo heard the paste-wouldn't-

melt-in-her-mouth tones of the liberrian herself. "Oh, Buuuuuuud!" she laughed. "On

the milking stool? REALLY?" More wild laughter! More deep rumbly moooooooo's

were heard.

Jo looked at Jack. "The woman never DID have any sense of propriety," she huffed.

"But," Jack asked, with a bit too much interest to suit Jo, "what does she do with the

violet petals?"

Jo frowned. "Don't ask!" was all she would say. Grabbing Jack by his left epaulette, she

headed off down the hall.
     

Out in the front driveway, Cort had finally gotten to his feet....just as the whirring sound

of a fully-inflated, pocket helicopter filled the air behind him and Grecian Mary. My

Heavens! Was it going to make a strafing run on the driveway? Had England declared

war on Greece? But the black helicopter landed in a cloud of...natch...dust.

Stepping out from behind the controls was a sight to behold. It was  the SUE! Mary

gasped. Never had she beheld such a sight! Sue was poured into the tightest black leather

pants one could imagine. Her black leather boots with silver studs in the pattern of

lightning bolts came up past mid-calf. Her black leather bustier covered a chest heaving

with pent-up emotions. Her black leather Stetson was tipped rakishly over one intense

eye. Her black leather gloves with the long black leather fringe blowing in the downdraft

from the still-twirling helicopter rotor blades rested menacingly upon two large pistols

in their black leather holsters. Her bright red lips were pressed together in a firm line.

A black leather whip was coiled at one hip. Black leather cartridge belts crisscrossed

her torso.

Spitting a large wad of tobacco into the dust, Sue took one step forward, a slow smile

beginning to tug at one corner of her scarlet lips. Mary, raised amongst happy grape-

growers, had only a small pair of pruning shears in her pocket. She gulped in shock

and awe. Just then Paula G and Lise opened the front door of the hacienda.
 

"Run, Mary!" they cried. Mary knew they were right. Perhaps the 3 of them could devise

some plan together. Clearly they were out-gunned in the present moment. Followed by

Sue's eyes, Mary dashed into the hacienda and the door was slammed behind her.

Sue lowered her eyelashes to half mast as her slow smile spread more widely. She pushed

the remote on her helicopter key and the rotors stopped. She looked at Cort. It had been

a long, long time. Too long. Way too long.
     

Meanwhile....

Part 13... by Lucilla

Meanwhile Lucilla had finished baking her special pie for Jo. If all went according to

plan she would have Captain Jack to herself. All along she had this secret hankering for

Jack, but Jo must not learn of her desire. To run her hands through Jack's blond mass,

to touch that large mast, such a beautiful vessel. Maybe later a tour of the islands aboard

his ship. Lucky for her Jo was going through all kinds of trouble just to bring Captain

Jack to her...hehe.

Outside she could hear someone barking orders, and...where were those caterers? Good

help was so hard to find...but Juditha did clean 496 stalls till they were gleaming enough

to eat off of. Which reminded her she had not seen Juditha  this morning. What was she

up to?

Part 14  by Sue

While Lucilla plotted to steal Jack and Juditha did goodness or maybe badness knows what,

Sue decided it was time to get her beloved Cort far, far away from the man stealers Mary

and Paula. But try as she might Cort wouldn't get into the pocket helicopter with her.

With a loud sigh she said, "But Cort why not???"

"Darlin, you're way too clean.  I ain't goin' anywhere 'til we get you all dusted up ag'in."

With that he caught hold of her and dusted up a storm to make up for all the missing

months.

Now quite breathless and dusty Sue and Cort made good their escape and flew off to.....

Meanwhile, just what was Juditha up to????

Part 15...by Jo
 

Now WHEN, I ask you, in an epi did ANYTHING ever go according to plan?

Lucilla stood there in her vast ceramic kitchen, flour up to her elbows. A satisfied smirk

upon her otherwise lovely face. How very clever she had been in making everyone think