Tales of the SS Dementieva: Finale

Exciting conclusion to "Tales of the SS Dementieva: Lena crosses over to the Dark Side"

PART III:

***The last time we saw our heroes, they were nervously glancing at the Library's doorknob, still hesitating over going in or not. After a sudden burst of confidence in Alenyaa--explained by Admiral Vera blackmailing him with telling everyone about his Barbie collection--they finally managed to get in, and begin their research into this Alexandrian Monument to Knowledge***

Alenyaa: Queen Mother Vera, look at this volume: "Tales of the SS Dementieva" (2005-2010).

Vera: What? 2005-2010 you say? Is it possible they're stories about our future! This oughta be weird...Although, considering the kind of crazy stuff that takes place in this ship, what would be weird would be if it WASN'T weird, but I digress.

Alenyaa: Wow! This is really something. Herein are collected all our stories from last year, onwards to the present, not to mention our future adventures. Looks like next year the ship is going to be taken hostage by Lesbian Amazons, we discover Atlantis not only exists but's populated by Smurfs who worship Lena as their long-awaited Goddess, and, no, no freaking way, this can't be: Mexico wins the 2010 World Cup!!!

Vera: Sigh! Could you please stop that and focus on what happens in OUR story? Wait, wait a second! Did you say that Mexico will win the next World Cup?!? You can not be serious!

Alenyaa: Of course not! Just checking if you were paying attention

(*Whispering to himself: "Mexico winning. Ha, ha! That's as absurd as saying Lena's coach will actually do her job and help her with her serve!"*).

Alenyaa: Anyhow, as per your request, let's flip to the page concerning our present situation...

***Suddenly, a terrified girly scream rocks the room***

Vera: Alenyaa! Get off that chair! It's only a mouse!

Alenyaa: Rats! My Achilles Heel: Mice. Is...it...go...go...gone?

Vera: Yes! Now please give me the book so we can read what happens.

Alenyaa: The book? Well, we might have a little tiny problem there...

Vera: ¡Sigh! What now?

Alenyaa: As I jumped on top of the chair, the book slipped of my hands and into the overhead fan, getting teared into pieces.

Vera: When my daughter gets better and hears about this, you're gonna be so dead...

***Meanwhile, as the ship heads to inexorable doom--the Iberian Peninsula getting ever bigger in the horizon--hell has broken loose in the cockpit***

Mercedes: We're going to die!!!

Dani: My turtle is going to die!!!

Paco: Finally my conversion to Islam will pay dividends: Celestial Harems prommissed by the Prophet, here comes Paco!!!!

Unknown Crew Member: I can finally come out of the closet. I'm gay, everybody!!!

Max: We need to save all the beer...

SloKid:...And my Legolas inflatable doll!

Quasar: Where the hell are the lifeboats, we need to jump ship!

Mercedes (Again): I haven't showered for the last 3 months!

(...)

***The Captain's voice's heard over the PA system***

Captain: Lena, WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!? Put something on!!!!

All: What!?!

Captain: You bunch of horny sailors! I knew that would get your attention! Now, stop screaming like babies and let's try to focus on the problem at hand.

***Meanwhile, at the library, things are not going any better***

Vera: No, Alenyaa, for the last time, I'll NOT tell you about the pick-up lines Maxim used to conquer Lena!!!

Alenyaa: Come on, Vera. I'll show you my "Incredible Hulk" tatoo. I'll...I'll...I'll perform the "Robot Dance" for you...I'll even wear my g-string!

Vera: Sigh! Why do I always get stuck with the creepy weirdos...

***As Alenyaa and Admiral Vera's childish discussion unfolds, the Captain summons an emergency reunion***

Captain: People. As you can well see, the situation is quite severe. Lena's gone berzerk and we're following Hannibal's steps into the Pyrenneees--sans the elephants, mind you, before an imminent landfall against Spain.

Max: So you're basically saying we're as fucked as the 3rd class passengers in the Titanic!

Captain: Well, not really. I was just trying to build some tension, you know, for dramatic effect.

Slokid: I hate when he does that!

***Suddenly, a mysterious man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask emerges into the room***

Quasar: Great! Armageddon's upon us and some clown still thinks today is Halloween...

***The unexpected visitor calmly takes a long breath, then sits down***

Guy Fawkes: I imagine you're curious as to who I am, but that's immaterial right now. What matters is that the tragedy has been averted.

Captain: It's true, We're slowing down! But how?

Masqued Man: The question is not "how?" but, rather, "Why?"

All: Why???

Guy Fawkes: Why not? Ha-ha. Get it? You say "why?" and I reply "why not?"! I'm so funny! I kill myself!
Anyway, let me relate you what happened: As we were cruising through the Atlantic, we passed over a sunken Spanish galley (the "Orgy of the Castrated Conquistadores") used during the 17th century slave trade; 1,000 slaves perished that night, as their Spanish captors managed to escape. As a dying reminder of the dark fate fallen upon them, the slaves set a curse against the Spaniards for their atrocious...

Slokid: Wait, but there're no Spanish citizens among us. How could we be then be victimized by the course?

Quasar: Well, Pilongo is from Spain... BTW, where's Pilongo?

Masqued Man: In his cabin, taking his chastity belt off so he can whack off for one last time. But that doesn't concern you. Now, if you'll let me proceed: The curse was against the dreaded Spanish pirate "Dildo de la Verga," or any of his living descendants. Turns out one of you is his bastard great-great-(...)-grandchild. Does the date "5th of November" mean anything to any of you?

Dani: It's my birthday, and it's today! Yuppie!!!!

Mercedes: So the curse is against Dani. It's all her fault! She always looked suspicious to me!

Guy Fawkes: Actually, no, your Femme-Fataleness. If you would allow me to continue...The victim of the curse is now free from the spell, and doesn't remember anything. But that's irrevelant now; thanks to the one you call "Lena," the curse is over for good.

Captain: You mean Lena is OK? Pray tell us what happened!

Guy Fawkes: No, she's not OK, she's...

All: Oh, no, did something terrible happened to Lena?

Guy Fawkes: No, she's perfectly OK.

All: But you just told us she wasn't OK?

Guy Fawkes: I meant she's NOT OK LOOKING. She's SO much more than OK: She's sizzling hot, a bombshell, a Russian Helen of Troy...

Captain: OK, we get the picture...

Guy Fawkes: So, as I was narrating, the spell ordered this person (let's call him Paco) to drive the ship full steam ahead against Spain, so that the perished souls would achieve revenge against their torturers, and their damned spirits finally be set free. But this couldn't be done alone.

Captain: So he recruited Lena, but how? She would never go for such a dastardly evil scheme. I mean, besides crushing Alenyaa's bones--that's like Homer strangling Bart: It's tradition!--, hanging Paco just inches above the caldera's boiling water when she catches him spying on her, and flushing Max down the toillet that time he beat her at poker, Lena's INCAPABLE of doing any harm to anyone!

Guy Fawkes: I know, which is why he recurred to drastic measures.

Captain: Don't tell me. Fluffy!

Guy Fawkes: Yes, there was no other recourse. He got Fluffy stoned and dressed him like a nun, leaving it alone with Dani's turtle. Then Nature took over...

Quasar: No way! Fluffy was humping the turtle!

Guy Fawkes: Precisely. (BTW, "Humping the Turtle" makes for a great band name!). Anyways, then he just needed an excuse to get Lena to see her beloved Fluffy doing his imitation of the Energizer Bunny on Viagra...

Captain: So he tricked her into going by promising her some Twinkies.

Guy Fawkes: And cupcakes...and burritos...and of course, 100 servings of Oreos.

Paco: So that would explain the cookie crumbs and the Godzilla-like trail of destruction. She went mad after encountering the horrible sight of Fluffy shagging the turtle...

Guy Fawkes: Right. But, it was still needed to take her to the Engine Room and manually redirect the propellers for a straight hit against Spain. Only she had the strenght to perform such a task...

Slokid: I see where you're going. He recruited Dani and Mercedes to perform a ritual enchantation against Lena. That's why days ago I saw them doing that Hieros Gamos shit...

Guy Fawkes: Of course not. The girls are not witches, for crying out loud. (Sure, I'll grant you they are kinda nuts, but that's besides the point). That scenario you described never took place. You allucinated the whole thing. Word to the wise: Drop the acid.

Slokid: I'm so relieved! That means my memories of cross-dressing as Elton John, performing testicle-enlarging surgery and inserting a live cat in my uretra were all a bad dream!!!

Paco: I'm afraid not. Can't you still smell the dead cat's corpse stench!

Guy Fawkes: Take it easy. Luckily the guys from PETA turned out to be Lena's fans and didn't press charges. Back to the story. This pour soul was between Scylla and Charybdis. He needed Lena's muscle to alter the ship's course (else, he would be damned forever, following the curse), but if he asked for help with such machiavellic plans, she would sure leave his body splatered like Jell-O (and with good reason). So he gave her a phone call...

Captain: The "Seven Days" message, I'd imagine.

Guy Fawkes: Bingo!

***Dani is heard singing and dancing B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O...and Bingo was his nam-o***

All: Dani!!!!!!!

Guy Fawkes: As I was saying, in the message he let her know that if she didn't follow his instructions, he would kill Fluffy's offspring. He gave her 7 days time to comply. She was so emotionally distressed that she obediently fullfilled the task.

Quasar: Slow down a bit, Fluffy's offspring? You mean he's pregnant?

Guy Fawkes: Of course not, but Dani's turtle is. You see, she was impregnated by Fluffy and gave birth to a beautiful egg, which is still hatching.

***Dani faints***

Guy Fawkes: Anyways, this mask is starting to bother me.

***Guy Fawkes takes off the mask***

***Mercedes faints***

All: Alenyaa!!!

Alenyaa: What's up dudes! Hey, why are the girls lying on the floor?

Captain: So if it was you all this time in the costume, who was the one who managed to get rid of the curse, restore the ship's course and free Lena from her madness?

Paco: And how, in the name's Nefertiti's bra, do you actually know all of this!!!!!!!!

Alenyaa: Hey, calm down folks. One would imagine that after saving your lives you would at least be a little grateful. But since you want to know, I'll tell you. When the admiral and I went to the library, we discovered it was basically a comic-book kiosk disguised as a library to prevent anyone from going there. That way Lena would be able to read her comics in private. Upon finding this, the Admiral got REALLY mad and said whomever had helped Lena with this ruse to ditch training--in favor of secretly indulging in her passion for comic books--was REALLY gonna get it.

***Captain nervously grabs his neck***

Alenyaa: Anyhoo, seeing as there was nothing productive that could be done in the library, the Admiral went to look for Lena herself, while I stayed put reading some comics...

Paco: Finally something that makes sense!

Alenyaa: Little did you know, my dear Paco, that I would stumble upon a comic entitled "V for Vendetta," which narrates how, precisely 401 years ago--on this very same day!--a plot to destroy the British Parliament was foiled.

Captain: So, that's were you got the idea for the Guy Fawkes mask! And today is the 5th of November, the day we in Britain celebrate the anniversary of the foiling of such a devious plot against our government and the killing of the traitor.

Alenyaa: Yes. But it turns out this Guy Fawkes dude was actually a rebel with a cause. He was trying to free the people from an oppresive regime and motivate them to think from themselves. So, you see, he was fighting the right cause, but in the wrong way.

Quasar: OK. So this is all very interesting, but what, in the name of Zeus' hairy balls, does this has to do with us being saved from colliding with Spain?

Alenyaa: If you would let me finish...In the comic, there's a modern day hero-of-sorts who dresses as Guy Fawkes and tries to ignite a rebellion in the masses, using Fawkes'same flawed--yet, well-intended--tactics. This guy is really the SHIT, capable of doing all kinds of amazing physical stunts (Sort of a British Batman without the Batmobile). This got me thinking, this Guy Fawkes dude is kind of a martyr, an idealist who tried to do good, but instead fucked up. What if he were given the chance to make amends and atone for his sins? So I summoned him up...

Paco: OK, Harry Potter, how do you bring an spirit back from the dead to save our asses and achieve spiritual purification!!!!

Alenyaa: I don't know really. For the 1st time in my life I actually believed something really good could come out of me. Perhaps It was Lena's fragrance permeating the room what inspired me--after all, she spends unhealthy amounts of time there--I really dunno, but out of nowhere this Guy Fawkes dude materialized. I explained him our nefarious predicament, and he obliged to help. In matters of seconds he reversed the propellers to normal speed and course and then...then...

All: What?????? What happened next?

Alenyaa: We saw Lena coming madly--like a raging bull--towards us. I thought that was it for me, but then, the most incredible thing happened.

All: What???? What?????

Alenyaa (snoozing): Actually, I'm kind of tired. Tell you what, I'll finish the story tomorrow!

All: Alenyaa!!!!!

Alenyaa: Jeez! You guys are quite impatient. I imagine you were among the dorks waiting in line for the Star Wars Episode III months in advance...In any case, what transpired then defies explanation: Lena saw this guy and took off his mask...revealing his hideous face and...kissed him! Then all was white and luminous as hundreds of spirits ascended to heaven. It was quite magical, and Lena, what can I say, her menacing red-eyed glare suddenly was gone, her precious smile settling back into her face. She was back. And didn't ever bother to kick my butt! I can not begin to understand what happened!

Captain: I think I do. When Lena saw Fawkes'spirit, it was a mirror of things to come; she recognized what was going to happen if she didn't regain control of herself: Her unleashed dark side--the one we all have but almost never show--was going to get the better of her, and she would end up disgraced, as Guy Fawkes did. Most of us would have not been able to come back against our own demons. But not Lena! Her noble spirit and gentle soul allowed her to overcome and supress her Hyde-an side.

Quasar: And commanded by her kind heart, she kissed Fawkes; her selfless act liberating his spirit and freeing the damned souls of those who centuries ago tragically perished in the sunken vessel right beneath us. That's why you saw that ethereal, luminiscent spectacle. (And it also explains why Lena didn't kick your butt: She was enthralled in the moment, ecstatically overjoyed at such a magnificent spectacle).

Alenyaa: Wow guys! You really know how to punctuate a story!

Paco: Well, seems everything is fine know. Only one thing worries me now. Do you realize ALENYAA ACTUALLY SAVED US?????

Alenyaa: I know. I'm scared too.

Slokid: If this not the first sign of the Apocalypse...

Max: ...I don't know what is.

***The group huddles in fright, after this spooky realization, while Dani and Mercedes wake up from their slumber***

Quasar: This reminds me, one last question. Just out of curiosity, Dani and Mercedes not remembering the last 7 days. How do you account for that?

Mercedes: Well, to be truthful, my hangovers actually last for 7 days--if not more! And I always remember zilch during that lapse.

Dani: I actually had never gotten drunk before. Suits me for hanging around with Mercedes...BTW, where's Lena

Alenyaa: She's having the time of her life playing with Fluffy and taking care of the egg that your turtle gave birth to.

*Dani faints again*

***The tension all but over, the mistery obliterated by the sagacity of the crew, everyone goes to the pub to get a well-deserved time-off and relax. As the ship gets pulled to its docking space in Bilbao, the sun kindly sets in--as imposing a sunset as the city has ever seen!--, while Lena lets her rosy cheeks and golden hair be kindly caressed by a breezy gust of wind, and lifts her lovely hand forming a V shape--"V for Victory" in Madrid, then coquetely lifts her head up to the sky, her joyous smile brimming with confidence and the sparkle in her eye outshining the twinkling stars of the sky above***

***As he lights his pipe and gets comfortable in his chair, the Captain smiles and utters to himself the words: "I love when a plan comes together"***


Epilogue:

Slk45: Everything is solved now; except for that most elusive and mind-blowing mistery: Victoria's secret!

Quasar: Dude, no one has told you? After the season's over, Lena will be posing for Victoria's Secret Christmas Lingerie Catalog. Here's a sample that the Captain procured: http://www.wtaworld.com/showpost.php?p=9398336&postcount=19 (Don't ask me how!).

***Slk nearly faints, as Lena's irrepresible beauty tends to have that effect on guys. While still gasping for air, he somehow manages to articulate a last thought***

Slk: Is this heaven?

***No. It's the SS Dementieva, a mysterious voice intones, as it gradually fades away into nothingness, and a Cheshire-Cat-like grin dissolves into the vast blue sea ahead***

Tales of the SS Dementieva; Lena crosses over to the Dark Side (II)

My contribution to "Tales of the S.S. Dementieva: Lena gets seduced by the Dark Side," a jointly-written story for the Wtaworld tennis forums.

STORY JOINED in medias res...

PART TWO
*After the Captain's issued warning to steer clear of Elena and to be as precautious as possible when venturing out of the cabins, the SS Dementieva experiences a ghostly silence as never before. On the Bridge, the Captain has summoned Max, Slokid, Paco, Quasar, Alenyaa and Admiral Vera for an emergency meeting.*

Captain: Goodnight, everyone. Since we all know why we're here, we'll cut to the chase immediately. Lena appears to be in trouble again, big time. Paco, would you start us of on informing the Admiral on what happened?

Paco: Well, as I was strolling around the ship, I couldn't sleep, that's why, for "indisclosed purposes"...

Vera: UNdisclosed purposes???

Paco: Hey, I merely wanted to see whether Lena was well asleep and not experiencing any nightmares... yeah, yeah, that was the reason

Vera: You're a very bad liar, you know that, right?

Paco: B.. B... B.. But...

Vera: Never mind, there's more important business now, please continue...

Paco: Thank you. Well, when I eventually came to her State Room, I saw the doors where wide open, and the room was empty. Of course I thought that was rather strange, especially with the lower temperatures this time of the year. When I was on my way up to the Bridge to report this, I came across Quasar, who had heard some disturbing noises coming from the lower decks, along with cookie crumbs on the floor of the corridor.
Soon after, Max joined us and we put our stories together and decided that we definitely had to inform you about the situation, Captain.

Alenyaa: Doesn't anybody else here find it strange that none of us seem to be able to fall asleep tonight?

Captain: How's that?

Alenyaa: The fact that the three of them simply walked into each other in the middle of the night... Plus the fact that everybody here was still awake when you summoned them up here...

Slokid: Now that you mention it...

Max: I haven't slept in two days, actually, but strangely I feel as fresh as a daisy...

Captain: I wonder if it bears any connection to what is happening with Lena?

Vera: Speaking of which, please tell me what happened next.

Max: Well, I went up to the Bridge to inform the Captain as Paco and Quasar returned to their cabins to try and get some sleep. Quickly we concluded that, with Halloween nearing and given the nature of many strange/funny/whacky things that happen aboard this ship, there was only one possible explanation: Cabin 4100... We've had a nasty experience with it before, sadly with Lena as protagonist as well.

Vera: Yes, she's told me about that when you returned. You don't think she'll be plunging herself into that dimension again, do you?

Alenyaa: I fear that she doesn't have to. You see, the Captain, Max and Slokid went down there to see if they could find a trace of Lena. And they did...

Slokid: But what we saw down there wasn't your daughter. Not the way we know her, not the way anyone knows her. Lena was there physically alright, but not mentally.

Vera: What???

Slokid: She seemed... possessed, there's no other word for it. Like she wasn't in control. Something from that other dimension must have entered her mind somehow... We were lucky to get away in one piece!

Vera: But, my Elena would never kill anyone!

Max: Lena wouldn't, but whatever it is that has her in its power would. The fact that she didn't choke me might be an indication of some remaining presence of her own will or consciousness though.

Captain: That look in her eyes was murderous, Vera, demonic. And we might not be so lucky to get away next time...

Vera: I can't believe this... it's all so... unreal! Then again, Elena would never leave cookie crumbs on the floor. In fact, she wouldn't leave any crumbs AT ALL...

Paco: We have to find some way to help her! But what can we do?

Alenyaa: Yeah... if you come up with an answer to that one, let me know...

Paco:

Captain: Calm down, Alenyaa. There must be something we can do...

Quasar: Clearly we have to keep away from Lena at all cost. We have to take on this thing from the root, whatever that may be...

Captain: Well, this ship does have a big-ass library nobody ever uses... kids these days, ey... Maybe we can find something we need in there.

Quasar: Sounds like a plan to me... sort of...

Max: Alrighty then, y'all do know where the library is, right?

All: Deck 2...

Max: My point exactly...

Alenyaa: I'll go, but not by myself. I'd like to ask the Admiral to come with me.

Vera: Do I have to? I mean... there's always Sesil Karatancheva...

Captain: Are you serious?

Vera: No, of course I'm not serious!!! What kind of mother do you think I am???

Captain: Didn't think so...

Alenyaa: The reason I want the Admiral to come along is the bond Lena has with her. If anyone has a chance of surviving a next encounter with Lena in her current state, it's her.

Paco: What do the rest of us do in the meantime? Just sit around and wait?

Captain: If Lena is indeed possessed by something, that means we must be able to exorcise it somehow. So we have to create some sort of space she can be confined in. Some sort of space that can resist the awesome power this possessed Lena will submit it to.

Slokid: Well, we have this "crazy room" as Natasc once called it... you think that might do?

Captain: If we upgrade it a little, it might just hold long enough.

Vera: Very well, then you know what to do. In the meantime Alenyaa and I will risk our lives while you go and play Bob the Builder! Now get to work and start saving my daughter!

All: Yes Ma'am!

*Only Alenyaa and the Admiral remain*

Alenyaa: Wow, impressive... Does that ever work on Lena?

Vera: Only if I do it... If you tried you'd probably deeply regret it. Now let's go.


END OF PART TWO

-----------------------


Episode II 1/3: The Revenge of the Femme Fatales?


*As the crew uses the Scooby-Doo technique of separating the group in order to add unnecessary tension, Paco and Max go to work on the "crazy room," while the Captain, quasar and Slokid stay on the bridge, brainstorming about this most awkward event*

Slokid: Captain, there's some weird shit going on with my readings...according to these coordinates, we're smack in the middle of the Bermuda triangle...but just a few hours ago we where closing in on the Mediterranean. This can't be possible!

Captain: At ease, sailor. Don't lose your composure. There must be a rational explanation...

Quasar: Hmmm...Hasn't anyone noticed the absence of Dani and Mercedes?

Captain: What are you suggesting?

Quasar: Well, those gals have been acting quite strangely lately. Remember they recently shaved their heads, started worshipping the mythical "Whore of Bizantium," and pledged to rescue the "Last Virgin of Carpathia" from the evil claws of the "Bubonic Rat of Sumatra"!!! With all due respect, I think they lost their marbles.

Slokid: Funny you mention that. The day after those bizarre antics, I went by the Pub and noticed the backdoor was open. I took a peak and what I saw...oh the humanity! I have been trying to forget it ever since.

Captain: what did you see?

Slokid: It was quite blurry, but it appeared like some sort of Hieros Gamos ritual, wherein Dani and Mercedes were dressed in black, chanting some blood-chilling hymns, and piercing some sort of voodoo doll that bade an striking resemblance to Lena. And the turtle, the turtle!

Captain: What? What happened with the turtle?

Slokid: It was dressed as a Tibetan monk and looking firmly at Lena's voodoo doll, as if trying to possess her mind, body and soul.

Quasar: Come on dude, you implying that they managed to switch the turtle's mind with Lena's and somehow Dani and Mercedes are now manipulating Lena to perform atrocious acts!

Captain: Well, that would partly explain why I'm receiving several complains about a turtle dressed in Winnie the Pooh PJs invading the tennis courts...

Slokid: Come on Cap. You can not be serious! That's a preposterous scenario--even for this ship! Besides, Mercedes would never be up to that. Dani, maybe...

Captain: As unlikely as it may appear, this night's bizarre events warrant further investigation. Not to mention there's a full moon outside and, according to the message in the bottle I just picked from the ocean: "Herein lies the spirit of Rasputin, stabbed, burnt, shot and drown to death; who will awake with a vengeance before those who disrupt his eternal sleep", I think we are in grave danger.

Quasar: Grave danger, you say?

Captain: Is there any other kind? Anyhow, Quasar, I think you should go fetch those femme fatales immediately! Interrogating them is of the essence to promptly solving this treacherous plot against Lena before it's too late. Slokid, may I enquire as to why are you holding my hand?

Slokid: Sorry Cap, I just got scared by your story.

***Somewhe else in the ship***

Paco: Max, I'm intrigued, why can't any of us fall sleep? Could it be some collective delusion we're partaking in? Might we all be slumbering in our beds while sharing the same dramatic perception of a fake, artificially-conceived notion of reality? Could we...

Max: Zip it, Plato. Don't try to distract me with that pseudo philosophical BS while you play with the underwear you stole from Lena's room!

*Paco is dimly heard whispering "My preciousss...preciousss" as he caresses some kind of textile apparel*

Paco: That again? I swear it's not what you think. I was actually going to wash it for her.

Max: Yeah, right, and Ricky Martin is not as gay as a picnic basket.
Anyways, let's focus on the situation at hand. I think we're going in circles. We must have passed by the Scooby-Snacks vending machine about 5 times. Paco, you listening to me?

*Paco's voice is heard violently screaming at the machine, the phrase "Give me back my quarter, you piece of shit" echoing around the hall*

Max: Paco, stop that infantile behavior. You can have cookies later. Besides, there're not actually Scooby-Snacks. (Scooby-Snacks don't actually exist, for heaven's sake!!!!). Remember when MTV wanted to make a reality show about Lena? Well, the Scooby-Doo brand name was just supossed to be product placement for the recent Scooby-Doo flop of a movie. What the vending machine actually contains is chinese fortune cookies.

Paco: Fortune cookies you say? That doesn't make any sense at all.

Max: What do you mean?

Paco: Remember the cookie crumbs Lena carelessly dropped on the floor. Chinese cookies don't leave crumbs!

Max: Where did the crumbs come from, then?

Paco: No clue in hell, but I don't like this one bit. We must go back to the bridge and inform the Captain.

*Back at the bridge, the captain is briefed*

Captain: The situation gets more intricate by the second. I hope Dani and Mercedes can help lift the dark veil that masks this villanous mistery. Where the hell are they anyway?

*Somewhere else in the ship...*

Dani: Mercedes, don't you find it weird that since that last Femme Fatale Anonymous meeting we haven't seen any of the guys.

Mercedes: Even stranger, I can't seem to recall anything that has happened in the last 7 days...last thing I recall is being drunken to the bone at PituBellyButton's 37th birthday party (or was it 27?).

Dani: Yeah, that was fun, specially when you tried to milk Altair's 3rd nipple. That was hilarious!

Mercedes: Oh, don't remind me of that. Even nastier was when you were trying to make your turtle do a lap dance for Word Life. You even took its shell off so it would be naked!

Dani: And you were screaming in Austrian "Look how tiny those turtle testicles look! Shake it up bitch!" I mean, you don't even know Austrian, nor is it even a language! How wasted were you!

*Quasar, quite agitated, bumps into the room*

Quasar: Pardon the interrumpion, ladies, but Lena's gone berzerk. She's tossing people around, eating turtles, and screaming louder than Evander Holyfield when his ear got bit off by Tyson. She even painted a moustache in our knock-off of the Monalisa...and it's not even her period yet!!!

Mercedes: Holy reptiles, Dani! This seems like something taken out of the Twilight Zone!

*Dani starts humming the Twilight Zone tune: "Na na na...na na na..."*

Quasar: Dani! This is serious! Captain wants you two at the bridge ASAP! Mercedes, you can continue reading "How to Dance Regaetton For Dummies" later!


Episode II 2/3: The Truth behind...Alenyaa's name!

*Meanwhile, at the bridge*

Slokid: Examining the phone records, Lena received one call precisely one minute before her storming out of her room in Terminatrix mode. Perhaps listening to it might clue us in as to what is behind her behavior.

Captain: Great idea! Let's listen in.

Slokid: Unfortunately, no can't do. We only have the record of the phone call been made. (It's in the phone bill, for Christ's sake!). But we did not tape the contents of the call. Lena's entitled to her privacy.

Captain: Ehem, if we can't have access to the conversation, why are you wasting our time with such useless information?

Slokid: Sorry, just wanted to seem smart. If you had lines as crappy as mine, you would do the same...

Dex: Well, actually we could reconstruct the message. Just need to reverse the polarity, interpolate the wavelength and triangulate the satellites based on our GPS coordinates. Here it is. I'm gonna play it back for y...

Slokid: Wait a damn second. Who the hell are you?

Dex: I'm the deus ex machina, but my friends call me Dex.

Slokid: The what???

Dex: Deus ex machina. A plot device written-in to make sense of a complex situation using an absurd, facile way out in order for the plot to advance to a satisfactory conclusion without much effort on the writer's part. Don't you ever see any movies?

Slokid: Well, as a teenager I peed in my Heidi underwear when watching "Star Wars" on TV--Darth Vader was so scary! Since then I haven't mustered the courage to watch another movie. But that has nothing to do wi...

Dex: Wait. You wore Heidy underwear as a teen?

Slokid: Ehem, no I meant to say He-Man...yes, He-Man. I never wore girl-themed underwear! And no, I'm not a cross-dresser anymore! I mean, I never was a cross-dresser, nor do I keep Rupaul posters in my cabin. Wait, that didn't come out right...

*Slokid desperately runs away*

Captain: Anyhoo, so what was the content of the telephone call?

Dex: Let me set it up for you. Here it is: "Seven days...*static*...seven days...*static*"

Captain: That's it? "Seven days." What's that cryptic remark suppossed to mean?

Dex: Must I explain everything? Evidently Lena has been a victim of a mind-control plot and "Seven Days" is the trigger that makes her obey orders from her puppeteer masters.

Max: This is bull. Elena is on the loose. Slokid has lost it. This Dex dude just gave Paco a wedgie, then got naked and jumped overboard. We have a bunch of leads but no concrete information. I mean, we're fucked! We don't know if Dani's ritual spirited Lena's mind away from her body--or mixed her a drink with alucynogens at her Pub. I'll be damned if I buy that mind control theory wherein Lena's dark side is unleashed by a phone call--although that "7 days" message sounded quite ominous. That Bermuda Triangle shit scares the crap out of me, but the instruments might just be malfunctioning--they are ACME, what can one expect!--and we might be nearing Bilbao, as planned. But then, there's that message from the dead by that crazy-ass monk Rasputin: Might he be trying to possess Lena and restore the Russian Empire installing our princess as zarine? Moreover, what's with the crumbs laying on the floor without there being any cookies from which they could have fallen? And not only are there no cookies, but my ass itches like crazy and I already took my ass fungus pills! And who the fuck writes these asinine lines, anyway?

*As Max summarizes the overly complex plotlines, Quasar and the Deadly Famme Fatale duo make it to the bridge*

Quasar: Captain, sorry for the delay, but it appears that Dani and Mercedes have been hung over for the last 7 days and can't remember what they have done during that period.

Captain: Bloody hell! That's all we needed! Has anyone noticed that nothing important is actually happenning? Seems like all that's going up is filler and we're right where we begun. Actually, the more we know, the farther away we are from actually uncovering the truth.

Paco: Well, not really. I just found out something quite interesting. According to these chinese cookie, the name "Alenyaa" comes from ancient Aramaic, and stands for "mistress of the underworld"...

Captain: ...which would explain why he always gets sent back from hell. He's Satan's bitch!!! And not even the Dark Lord wants anything to do with him!

*The crew laughs*

Mercedes: And speaking of Alenyaa, hope he and Vera are having better luck...

*Meanwhile, at the corridor that leads to the library*

Alenyaa: Vera, this is it: The Library. Look how rusty the door is, and the air is so dusty. Seems like no one has been here in ages.

Vera: Well, if you actually came here to educate yourself rather than being a poolside fixture trying to catch my daughter sunbathing...

Alenyaa: Me, stalking Lena? I would never do that!

Vera: Yeah, right, and Lena didn't inherit her exquisite figure from me!

Alenyaa: What?!? Nevermind...But too much chit-chat. Let's get this door open and check what lies inside.

Vera: You know what? It seems you're a resourceful kid, you don't actually need me here. I think I'm gonna split...

Alenyaa: What? What if Lena's inside? You gonna leave me alone with her? In the condition she's in? You nuts? Come on, it's your daughter, for crying out loud!!!

Vera: Well, actually she's adopted...

Alenyaa: What!!! Lena is adopted?

Vera: Don't be silly. Of course not, where do you think she gets her looks! But you should have seen your face when I told you...

Alenyaa: Vera...!!!!

Wings of Love: A Xmas Miracle

Chapter 1. The Angel from Heaven
Anakin Bailey, disenchanted with the downward spiral his life had taken—his head a Maelstrom of disassembled thoughts, contemplates his future precipitating into the abyss of oblivion. Unbeknownst to him, in the faraway realms of Heaven, a most enchanting angel was curiously peeking in the direction of Earth, catching an ephemeral glimpse of the solitude that was tearing away Anakin's heart…
Such things happen; gentle angels observing human misery and interceding with God's Grace to save the souls so deserving from the despair that sometimes subdues their existence. But this time, it was different. Our angel, the glowingly enchanting Hermione, had gone beyond the simple caring for our friend—the broken-hearted Anakin—and actually felt that magical tingle that angel's hearts are not supposed to feel.
And so, from that day on—precisely one month tis Christmas—Hermione, our lovely cherub, began peeking into Earth more often than angels are meant to. This kind of incipient affection, purest amongst any felt in the heavenly pastures, could not go unnoticed by the gentle Dumbleyoda, her wise tutor, who was in charge of Christmas miracles. So he summoned into his presence the sublime soul that is Hermione, and thus spoke, with the kindness that characterizes the purest, most virtuous spirits. "My dear child, sweetest among the celestial chorus, your heart I sense resonating more strongly towards Earth than our heavenly environs. Is there something you wish to tell me?"
"My noble and fatherly protector," Hermione humbly replied. "Back on Earth I feel a gentle soul pleading for help to alleviate his love sicken heart. I fear that his faith in Love is wavering and, if unchecked, could lead to lamentable consequences." "Yes," the kind master replied. "His will is breaking, and his life's candle fading. His feelings are cascading into an avalanche of emotional angst that, if uncontrolled, could lead him into the dark path of lost illusion. I presume you, my dearest protégé, are longing to aid him navigate this psychological journey that destiny has placed before him. Yet, I perceive something else, as if your involvement were more firmly rooted in a romantic feeling—you can not hide the sparkle in your eye when you talk about him—than in your usual affinity for seeking others' well-being."
Her rosy cheeks flushing, her celestial face radiating a glow that only humans—not angels!—are known to emanate, she had to confront the now evident truth, and accept it before her sage mentor. "Yes, my caring father," the adorable Hermione spoke with that melodically-captivating voice bested only upon the most special of angels. "My wings vibrate nervously when I discern him in the distance, and my halo brightens whenever the thought of him crosses my mind. I can not ascertain its nature, yet I have never felt anything resembling the intense emotions that consume me…"
Smiling knowingly, the good Dumbleyoda interrupted her. "My innocent Hermione," he tenderly whispered in her ear. "What you feel is nothing other than Love. Only the purest of angels are privy to that emotion." "But, what does that mean?", Hermione interjected abruptly, her curiosity, as usual, having gotten the best of her.
"It signifies, my young angel—whom I care for as if you were my own, that you are going to Earth to rescue this young man and, thusly, follow your heart to where
it wishes to be," said Dumbleyoda, trying to occult the paternal tears sliding down his cheeks.
"My heart?" Hermione, astonished by the revelation, eagerly inquired. "But I thought us angels could not dream of such a blessing as a heart. Am I capable to feel, to emote freely, just like humans do? I have never come across this possibility in my readings…"
"Yes, my impatient and quite prolific bookworm," the wise master charismatically
spoke. "Angels can feel, yet only the purest—those most attuned to their inner souls, those most capable and willing to love—can rejoice in the magnificence of unbound emotion. Turns out you, after all your incursions into gathering
knowledge and striving to discover things, ended up discovering what few do: That what you yearned for was not knowledge, but that magical thing called Love."
As Hermione was about to instinctively reply, as curious, wisdom-seeking angels do, she did something unusual in her: She remained silent. It had finally dawned on her: She was in love, and her search for who should be blessed by her passion would know no bounds, except those interposed by her uncertainty about how, precisely, could she, an angel residing in Heaven, indulge her heart and lure this luckiest-among-earthly-creatures towards her…
And is often the case with the affairs of the heart, little did she now that, unbeknownst to her, our good Anakin had begun to feel a glimmer of vaguely nascent
hope in the foggy vacuum of his love-deprived existence, as if Cupid's arrow had fatally wounded him...
Chapter 2: A spark of illusion: Mirage of Love?
Anakin felt an odd tingle, an oasis of illusion in a desert of desolation…Unable to yet understand its meaning, he promptly dismissed it—as the signs of Love, and specially True Love, are the hardest to discern—and shifted back his focus to the fabulously important event he had been training so hard for over the past few months: The Kessel Run, the most important race on Earth, were humans test themselves
to the limits and only the truly worthy—those able to raise above the challenge by sheer will and the unbreakable desire that stems only from the most sublime inspiration—are able to succeed.
And so, the Sun set…and rose again. The next day, it did the same, as it had obediently done for millennia—and perhaps longer. But this time, as Anakin's eyes opened, an oddness—which he could not yet assess in his still-half-asleep state—intrigued his overly-curious mind, summoning his heart into a delightful joy—a feeling hitherto unfelt in his experience, as regular humans are not to be offered
these privileges: Such rejoice can only be received when they have merited, through their noble deeds, admission into the heavenly pastures.
What could this mean?—he wondered. Could there be, amongst the vast spectrum of human emotion, an unchartered feeling he was been granted exclusive access to? Could this be related to the exquisite tingle he had—only two days ago—dismissed as romantic nonsense? Further, might this be somehow related with the unparalleled brightness the Sun, as it filtered through the blinds, was kindly bestowing upon him this most beautiful of mornings, just like the night bygone had kindled his heart with the luminous streak of light he, from his early forays into the study of the
heavenly spheres, had immediately identified as coming from the usually dimmer Venus?
Might there be unseen forces conjuring some magical incantation of passion of which he was invited to be the fortunate recipient? As his mind pondered these
mysterious intertwine between odd celestial phenomena and the future that lay ahead of him, the faint vibration of the phrase "…who knows? Lightning could strike…"—originating in front of him, from the film he had fallen asleep to the night before—awoke him from such absurdly convoluted day-dreaming and refocused his mind on the challenge that was, ever so imminently, drawing nearer: The fatidic race!
It's peculiar, how humans think. Just a few days ago, our good Anakin had been most excited about the upcoming event yet, in one of those epiphanies that sometimes spring from human minds, he had perceived, as strongly as he had ever before, that something was missing; he couldn't yet pinpoint it, but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that this mysterious "thing"—as he could not yet clearly ascertain what it was—was the key that would complete the disjointed puzzle that was his life, and unlock the secrets of his existence. And so, his mind dumbstruck from this cryptic
revelation—if that's what it indeed was, he suddenly felt contempt, even disdain, from the world he now increasingly begin to consider had molded him away from his real self, and thus prevented him from finding what he truly seeked—whatever that was.
And that is why, two days ago, Anakin's darkest emotions had, unhindered, surfaced, swelling above the purity his heart had, till then, so profusely irradiated. Now they threatened to annihilate his zest for life, that priceless possession bestowed by our Gracious Lord upon the kindling of the flame that gave birth to human souls.
On that note, had this cold November, unprecedentedly-shiny Saturday morning begun, when Anakin woke up and readied himself for the race he no longer considered important. Yet, he had committed to undertake this task and he was not going to forego his honor: He would race…if only one happy thought could propel him from the dismay of disillusion and carry him over the course of the challenge he unwantedly was about to take on…
Chapter 3. Tear of Love
As Anakin battled against that most terrifying nemesis, the darkness latent in his inner-self, a delightful angel obediently listened to the last instructions kindly being offered by her counselor: "…and remember, you must not interfere with human
affairs. It is his task to complete, unaided he has to prove himself worthy. You are only permitted to observe, never to interact…"
"But how am I supposed to express that which I feel"?, inquired the ever-so-impatient Hermione. With his gentle arm, her protector lifted his finger to his
mouth—a sign interpreted by humans and angels alike as a request for silence, softly caressed her lovely wings, and offered his last bit of advice. "Go, my sweet child, past Venus, 'round the Sun and into Earth shall you journey. Go, my adored angel, seek and find that which your heart yearns so intensely for." And then, he smiled…
As Hermione covered the distance between Heaven and Earth, her path lead her towards Venus, where, with her radiant presence, she eclipsed the planet named by
the Greeks to honor the Goddess of Beauty. As she outshone Venus and swiftly stroked through the starry night, she rounded the far side of the Sun, her glowing face emerging over the near side…just as the early beams of sunlight indicating morning's arrival were hitting Earth, and waking Anakin up…
By the time she got to Earth, the rain had ceased; a most splendorous Arco iris—those that through their opulent magnificence end wars and restore faith in human's souls—was coinciding with her arrival…as if it were there for the sole purpose of greeting her.
The race has already begun, and as Anakin, struggling up a hill as if he were pushing Sisyphus' boulder, seemed to falter, he felt a glimmer of hope illuminating him from the sky. Could this be the happy thought he had—seemingly for eons—so strongly longed for? Could this ethereal force, guide him away from his recently unveiled dark emotions and show him the way towards the joy he so desired?—he silently wondered, as he looked up and saw nothing but unfriendly terrain ascending as far as his eyes—still sore from crying for the dream he so passionately
longed waking up to—could discern…
As she saw him losing strength, battling not the unmerciful road ahead, but the inner demons that obscured his heart, the pain corroding Anakin's will fused with her…and she let a tear drop: A tear of love tenderly being taken down by a gust of wind—as an autumn leaf would—and being carried off onto Anakin's forehead. Showered by this unexpected gift, he looked up…and saw a rose proudly blossoming from the ground, as if spring had suddenly arrived. Not knowing why, he picked it up and, as quickly as that villainous epiphany had summoned his heart into darkness, he felt an infusion of hope, as if the most perfect illusion were encapsulating his body, imprisoning him in feelings so joyful he had not, to that day, even dared to entertain the notion of imagining…
He wasn't despaired anymore. Somehow, without his knowing why, he felt someone guiding the way; his body miraculously brimming with energy that, though its source was yet undetermined, made him feel as if love-powered winds had suddenly been affixed to his corporeal frame, jetting him forward with unrestrained acceleration. His body was racing just like he always had dreamt, yet it didn't matter anymore, for what he was savoring was something else altogether. His heart was being rendered captive under an aura of magnificence preeminent above all feelings; that stealthy entity usually referred to as Love had, he instantly recognized, inescapably trapped him in its net. What was to be the guiding purpose of his life had finally manifested before him.
As this realization crystallized in his mind, he realized that this elusive Love, loftiest among feelings humans are permitted to flavor, had been in front of him throughout every step traveled during the voyage of his life: It was until now that he had finally allowed himself to unveil it. So close yet, so far away, he marveled as he wondered why it had taken so long for him to waken to this joyful experience…
And then, he heard it…a chorus of angels chanting "Twelve days of Christmas", that most captivating Christmas jingle he so dearly loved—yet didn't even know why. It is said that when an angel chooses to give her wings, the whole of Heaven bid her adieu by singing this song, for a Christmas love song is the most appropriate way to say goodbye to a dearly loved angel who has chosen the bliss of True Love over the Graces of Heaven.
As Hermione's wings dissipated into infinity, a déjà vu struck Anakin's mind: Wasn't this the song that he had, every single night since he could remember, heard in his dreams? Initially he had thought it must have been an angel, caringly watching after him. It wasn't until he felt an intoxication of joy, as Hermione's soft, tender hand held his own and spoke the words "Hello, Anakin," that he recognized the voice that had for so long resonated with unbridled passion in his heart.
"Hello, my beloved Hermione," he replied, his voice trembling from the emotion of True Love—that which he had so strongly yearned for yet never imagined would be graced upon him.
Then, as if ordained by Heaven itself, Hermione's love tear dislodged from his forehead and ascended to Heaven, where the always caring Dumbleyoda gently captured it and placed it inside his Treasure Chest—the place where he kept his most priced possessions. Oddly, it was empty, except for 2 beautiful doves which, upon the opening of the chest, gracefully emerged from the heavenly palace that Hermione's generous master had offered them. As the venerable Dumbleyoda closed his treasure box, he lovingly gave a last glance to what—in the form of a tear of love, was to be the remembrance of the most enchanting angel Heaven had ever known.
Chapter 4. Turtledoves of Love
As this transpired in Heaven, the white doves, undulating gallantly across the sky, descended into Earth, softly approaching Anakin and Hermione. Upon meeting them, they soon became aware of a little, tiny, insignificant inconvenience: The two lovebirds were actually too immersed in each other to actually notice them…
It is told in Heaven that True Love can be recognized when two souls are so absorbed together—their hearts resonating in unison, as if fused in one—that the Universe slowly disappears before them, until only 3 elements remain: They and True Love…permeating with its magical spark all that exists. Judging from the scene before us, perhaps this legend—recounted in Heaven since times immemorial—is, actually, true.
Feeling neglected, the celestial doves softly caressed the lover's shoulders with their beaks, and began singing a beautiful melody in their ears: The verse from "Twelve days of Christmas" which recited "On the second day of Christmas my True Love gave to me two turtledoves and…"
To their dovish bewilderment, Anakin and Hermione's love-enthralled spirits—still consumed by the majestic emotion that heralds the arrival of True Love—precluded them from noticing anything beyond each other, unknowingly ignoring their feathered friends until, as they distinctly heard a faint noise reverberating through the night—their senses now attuned to the magic of the environment that paternally manifested before them—finally glimpsed their melodious avian companions and acknowledged their regal presence with a joyous smile.
As our lovers marveled in ecstatic bliss at the grandeur of the music they were being treated to, the now familiar sound—whose all-encompassing echo had awoken them from their love hibernation, now clearly discernable, fully overjoyed them.
"Ho, ho, ho", the merry voice laughed jocundly, as ringing bells became audible and a luminous red light intersected the sky. Stealthily mixing with the profuse white beard of Père Noel, crisp flakes of white snow began to softly populate the heavens,
tracing white lines through the canvas of the starry sky…a heart shaped figure commencing to take shape, momentously emerging—seemingly out of nothing, and inundating the firmament with its imposing glow: A heart a-warming the cold, splendorous Christmas night, magnifying with its captivating opulence the magic of
the instant that passionately transpired back on Earth. A fitting image, if there ever was any.
As Santa's sleigh crisscrossed gracefully through the night, inaugurating before our lover's eyes the most magnificent Christmas Eve ever remembered in the annals of Heaven (Yes! It was Christmas: 28 days had elapsed since our lovers, nurtured by nothing but their love, had locked eyes between each other), the affable Kris Kringle gently dropped his magic reindeer dust on top of the sweet-singing doves, who suddenly ceased their Heaven-inspired chants, smiled and, as if under a Spell of Love conjured by Destiny, turned into turtledoves...
Anakin's heart rejoiced, as he, without the slightest hesitation, recognized the significance of this magical transmutation and, overwhelmed by excitement, extended his arm towards his soul mate, offering the celestial dove to his sweetheart. "I love you," Anakin's trembling voice spoke, his eyes fixating lovingly on Hermione as if Her was everything, and beyond Her there was nothing deserving of his
attention.
"I know", Hermione cockily replied—her innocent smile brightening the sky and merging with the Heart her magnanimous mentor, the ever-so-kind- Dumbleyoda, had painted in the sky to celebrate the consummation of her Love.
Luminescently grinning at the nine flying reindeer that decorated the overhead sky, she accepted Anakin's token of love and reciprocated his gesture by offering her dove to him who, immersed in the purest delight, gently took it and held it close to his heart…while a smile of unrestricted, blissful joy formed across his face…and his hand slid against Hermione's soft-as-snowflakes skin, holding her tight…treasuring
the transcendence of the instant than in his heart would last eternally…and beyond.
Epilogue. Wish upon a Star.
It is said that when a pair of hearts are conjoined as one—such as appears to be the case—the grandness of their Passion is so profound as to transport their love-entranced souls into Cupid's Earthly abode, Niagara Falls, where its gentle breeze lifts their kindred spirits above the tender embrace of the ground and swiftly propels them across the stars and beyond, till they return to Earth in the shape of what is commonly referred to as a Falling Star which, upon being first sighted, fulfills the wishes of those who believe in its magic.
As Anakin and Hermione's lips neared each other, a pair of diffuse sounds—arriving from times past—became audible in the distance, seamlessly coalescing together "I wish to find my…" said a little boy's voice, while the most adorable of angels completed the very same sentence: "…True Love whom I shall treasure eternally."
Then the sound fainted away…but not before Anakin and Hermione had remembered that childhood instant when, upon gazing at a falling star, they had wished for the moment whose arrival they had for so long awaited and were now, years later, finally enjoying…under an imposing Christmas Eve sky lightened by a bright-glowing beacon of red light--emanating from a shiny-nosed, flying reindeer--and punctuated by the tender voice of Fatherly satisfaction coming from the ever-watchful Dumbleyoda—who was none other than God Himself—who proudly intoned the words "Wish fulfilled…"