Disclaimer: The first rule of fanfics: You do not claim ownership of things
that don't belong to you (hence I make no claim of owning Labyrinth, or Dr.
Strangelove, or the Muppet Show, or any of the Marx Brothers, or Goddess
help me, Transmetropolitan. None. Sorry. Although I would be impressed
if there was at least one person who understands all the references I make
here.).
Dedication: For Jim Henson and Peter Sellers. I miss you guys.
And lastly for Dave Sim, for inspiring the idea of too clever cameos (his are more purposeful than mine, however).
Author's note: This is my best shot at crossover gags. Enjoy!
Bursting Bubbles: Part 2
It was one week later that Jareth, with the help of Sarah, was able to assemble the vast legions of Labyrinth fans and fanfic writers into a large New Jersey stadium. Tickets sold in less than three hours. Flights and hotels were booked and packed to the walls.
Of course, when Jareth made a public appearance, the fans sat up and cried "Yessir! To the ready, my King!"
And so here they were, thousands upon thousands. In the stands and on the grass. The stands were decorated with assorted signs that pledged allegiance and offered up marriage proposals to the Goblin King.
Sarah could feel the tension from the audience. It was almost as if Jareth was a teen heartthrob. Jareth looked upon them with some obvious disdain.
"And I thought *I* was arrogant," said he aloud to himself. Before the sound operator turned on the audio. "These people think they know *everything*." He sat upon the stage, at a table, with a microphone at the height of his mouth. Sarah also sat there, with her own microphone in front of her, directly to his right.
Sarah turned to him. "Don't be so hard on them, they mean well." She *had* to say that. What they were going to tell the mad crowd might get them *both* killed.
Jareth replied, "Oh really, and did you want to be branded as pining for *me* for the rest of your life?"
"Touche." She'd rather be *dead* than live the rest of her life under *that* shadow.
Sarah looked at her watch. Only a few seconds left until six. "Showtime," she said.
And with that, Jareth tapped the mike in front of him. "Testing." Jareth heard his voice reverberate through the open space, and the crowd went *silent*. All except for a black-suit-wearing, bald-but-for-the-spider- tattoo on his forehead man down in front who cried out suddenly "Show us your *penis*, Mr. Goblin King!"
"Without further delay," he started, shaking it off, "we are here to discuss the relationship that you have based so many fan fictions on." He said the words *fan fictions* with rank condescension. No one liked being mocked, but when it's royalty receiving the brunt, the party which is the target usually has something to prove. "Sarah, if you'd like to begin?"
"Thank you, Jareth," said she, and promptly turned back to look at the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Goblin King and I have come to an agreement to talk to you today. We would like to express our deepest sympathies to you that Jareth and I are not, and have not, ever had a relationship, romantic or otherwise."
Jareth rolled his eyes. *Deepest sympathies?* he thought. *I KNEW that I shouldn't have let her write this.*
The crowd was aghast. They looked at each other in shock, asking each other if she really said what they thought she said.
Collective "aaaaaws" sprung up in pockets within the crowd simultaneously. Faith had been shaken and a belief structure had been demolished. Sarah quietly remembered to herself that most famous law: "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." This reaction was going to be a nightmare.
One girl in the front row, wearing a replica of Sarah's ballroom dress stood up. Her eyelids sparkled, wearing the same colors Jareth wore for that masquerade. She looked very, very distraught.
"But it *can't* be true," she cried, "It can't be *possible*!"
The stage lights came up on the left of Jareth. A gray-haired man in a wheelchair then spoke with a bizarre German accent.
"That ees not so. In fact, eet eez not only possible, eet eez ezzential!"
This was the moment that Jareth introduced Dr. Strangelove, and his assistant, Link. Link was a pig-nosed fellow dressed in a white coat. The same kind that was worn in asylums. In hindsight, this was not the best of choices of people to handle the situation, but sometimes you need the insane to wrangle in the insane.
A man in a thick, black moustache then stood up at the head of the crowd. "That man has no authority to handle such a delicate situation." He gestured to Dr. Strangelove with his cigar. "He's nothing but a two-bit quack."
"Qvack?" The doctor said, looking at the gentleman strangely. "Vhut eez zis *qvack* you speak of? Like a duck?"
"And why not?" the moustache shot back. "A duck would be better suited to handle things around here."
Someone with an Italian accent ventured to say the phrase "Okay, why a duck?" but the joke was lost.
Sarah looked as if ready to bang her head into the table. Jareth simply shook his head.
This was not going to be easy.
Dedication: For Jim Henson and Peter Sellers. I miss you guys.
And lastly for Dave Sim, for inspiring the idea of too clever cameos (his are more purposeful than mine, however).
Author's note: This is my best shot at crossover gags. Enjoy!
Bursting Bubbles: Part 2
It was one week later that Jareth, with the help of Sarah, was able to assemble the vast legions of Labyrinth fans and fanfic writers into a large New Jersey stadium. Tickets sold in less than three hours. Flights and hotels were booked and packed to the walls.
Of course, when Jareth made a public appearance, the fans sat up and cried "Yessir! To the ready, my King!"
And so here they were, thousands upon thousands. In the stands and on the grass. The stands were decorated with assorted signs that pledged allegiance and offered up marriage proposals to the Goblin King.
Sarah could feel the tension from the audience. It was almost as if Jareth was a teen heartthrob. Jareth looked upon them with some obvious disdain.
"And I thought *I* was arrogant," said he aloud to himself. Before the sound operator turned on the audio. "These people think they know *everything*." He sat upon the stage, at a table, with a microphone at the height of his mouth. Sarah also sat there, with her own microphone in front of her, directly to his right.
Sarah turned to him. "Don't be so hard on them, they mean well." She *had* to say that. What they were going to tell the mad crowd might get them *both* killed.
Jareth replied, "Oh really, and did you want to be branded as pining for *me* for the rest of your life?"
"Touche." She'd rather be *dead* than live the rest of her life under *that* shadow.
Sarah looked at her watch. Only a few seconds left until six. "Showtime," she said.
And with that, Jareth tapped the mike in front of him. "Testing." Jareth heard his voice reverberate through the open space, and the crowd went *silent*. All except for a black-suit-wearing, bald-but-for-the-spider- tattoo on his forehead man down in front who cried out suddenly "Show us your *penis*, Mr. Goblin King!"
"Without further delay," he started, shaking it off, "we are here to discuss the relationship that you have based so many fan fictions on." He said the words *fan fictions* with rank condescension. No one liked being mocked, but when it's royalty receiving the brunt, the party which is the target usually has something to prove. "Sarah, if you'd like to begin?"
"Thank you, Jareth," said she, and promptly turned back to look at the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Goblin King and I have come to an agreement to talk to you today. We would like to express our deepest sympathies to you that Jareth and I are not, and have not, ever had a relationship, romantic or otherwise."
Jareth rolled his eyes. *Deepest sympathies?* he thought. *I KNEW that I shouldn't have let her write this.*
The crowd was aghast. They looked at each other in shock, asking each other if she really said what they thought she said.
Collective "aaaaaws" sprung up in pockets within the crowd simultaneously. Faith had been shaken and a belief structure had been demolished. Sarah quietly remembered to herself that most famous law: "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." This reaction was going to be a nightmare.
One girl in the front row, wearing a replica of Sarah's ballroom dress stood up. Her eyelids sparkled, wearing the same colors Jareth wore for that masquerade. She looked very, very distraught.
"But it *can't* be true," she cried, "It can't be *possible*!"
The stage lights came up on the left of Jareth. A gray-haired man in a wheelchair then spoke with a bizarre German accent.
"That ees not so. In fact, eet eez not only possible, eet eez ezzential!"
This was the moment that Jareth introduced Dr. Strangelove, and his assistant, Link. Link was a pig-nosed fellow dressed in a white coat. The same kind that was worn in asylums. In hindsight, this was not the best of choices of people to handle the situation, but sometimes you need the insane to wrangle in the insane.
A man in a thick, black moustache then stood up at the head of the crowd. "That man has no authority to handle such a delicate situation." He gestured to Dr. Strangelove with his cigar. "He's nothing but a two-bit quack."
"Qvack?" The doctor said, looking at the gentleman strangely. "Vhut eez zis *qvack* you speak of? Like a duck?"
"And why not?" the moustache shot back. "A duck would be better suited to handle things around here."
Someone with an Italian accent ventured to say the phrase "Okay, why a duck?" but the joke was lost.
Sarah looked as if ready to bang her head into the table. Jareth simply shook his head.
This was not going to be easy.