The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

Short but sweet. Extra points for the gi-raffebabe. <3

>Meadow: Why aren't you competing? You look good in silver-steel undies. :D
>Giraffebabe contestant: Attract Estmere's interest.

>Adler: You know what, 10 points would be enough to win you the tournament. Put the invasion on hold for a moment. Studying the Dinner from female perspective will strengthen your use of Wiles!

I like the visual gag of snoops snooping a snoop!

>Estmere: Stop the security from throwing Avogadro out. His antics could spice the convention up for you, you want to see where this goes.
>Adler: Wait, what's you're brother doing at a convention? The city's right in the middle of a potential siege. He should be in a secure location. There's something sinister going on here and you need to find out what, but first... Minus FIVE POINTS?!! How DARE she!

Rotund Vixen, eat all the pies available. Then receive a mint to clear your throat. Result: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2Bs1ZZ-7b8

Relda, win first prize! As a reward, be taken to Vulpitania, where you soon forget your true identity as Adler and live for the rest of your life as Relda Fauxfox, legendary Lengra-Cha pie fighting champion. Even get your own picture scroll to compete with SALV Krakenhoefer's.
Fifi, be seething with rage. Become Relda's arch-nemesis.

Adler's army, fall into starvation as you wait for your leader to return. Result in cannibalism.
The last survivor, lament your fate, then die still hoping that Adler will one day return.

Estvan, eventually realize that things will not do like this. Then transform yourself into Adler, and ascend to the throne as him.


April fools. (and happy Easter)

And now for my non-April fool's suggestions:

Can I resuggest the things about pie-eating and Izzy?

Also, the two cervines in the audience, be Westersloe VI and his sister Stella. Stella, be there to show support for one of your favourite fiction franchizes. Westersloe VI, be there to show your support for the concept of pies. And to see what the shipment of a certain special Elfhamian vegetable has been used for.

Glenholm Webb, suspect one of the vixens is not quite who she appears to be.

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>Alice: Begin your dark ascension.

While everyone was distracted by PieFight ValKon, a shadowy figure crept through the Hall of Ancestors...

>Adler: You know what, 10 points would be enough to win you the tournament. Put the invasion on hold for a moment. Studying the Dinner from female perspective will strengthen your use of Wiles!
Relda, win first prize! As a reward, be taken to Vulpitania, where you soon forget your true identity as Adler and live for the rest of your life as Relda Fauxfox, legendary Lengra-Cha pie fighting champion. Even get your own picture scroll to compete with SALV Krakenhoefer's.

As I stood on stage in front of the contest judges, I started to feel giddy at the prospect of winning. Attending a fancy dinner in disguise as the beautiful Relda Fauxfox would give me a perfect chance to study Wiles from a female perspective! This might be my key to fame and fortune! Maybe they would take me back to Vulpitania and make me a star, with my own scrycast show and series of illuminated adventure scrolls!

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Glenholm Webb, suspect one of the vixens is not quite who she appears to be.

"I suspect one of those vixens is not quite who she appears to be," Detective Glenholm Webb mused aloud.

"Ooh, ooh!" Lemmy blurted, unable to contain his excitement. "Ooh, Detective Webb! I've been tailing her from the Gladsome Antglade, and I know exactly who she really is!"

>Giraffebabe contestant: Attract Estmere's interest.

"Oh, hey there long, tall, and beautiful," Estmere schmoozed as he turned to look at the con-goers subduing Avogadro, and suddenly noticed a giraffe femme standing nearby. "How come you weren't in the pie dodging contest? I bet you'd do great. I would totally give you bonus points for form, no question."

"Oh, Your Majesty," the giraffe giggled bashfully.

"Are you here alone? You wanna get together later?"

>Adler: Rememberyou weren't here for pie avoiding contest but for a /secret/mission so y'know, stop atractng attention to yourself and get the heck away.
>Adler: Wait, what's you're brother doing at a convention? The city's right in the middle of a potential siege. He should be in a secure location. There's something sinister going on here and you need to find out what
Adler's army, fall into starvation as you wait for your leader to return.

As I watched my half-brother's sleazy yet effortless approach, I was suddenly reminded of my duty. What was I thinking earlier?? Was I seriously considering running off to Vulpitania to become a pie fighter? I was starting to get too comfortable with this disguise. I needed to get out of it and back to my normal self soon! Furthermore, I needed to find out why Estmere was out here judging a contest at a blatantly Vulpitanian convention while the city faced an impending siege. Shouldn't he be in a secure location? Something strange, perhaps even Unseelie, was going on!

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Spoiler

A few blocks away:

(Jimmy the Bard) Gobsmack your audience by singing ballads of battle, lust and liptauer.

"The streets will run red with the blood of my enemies!" Jimmy shrieked furiously. "I'll eat their gizzards smeared with spicy cream cheese! Any unaccompanied femme I'll claim for my own! This Empire will be firmly and properly re-established before I'm done! Bow before your Emperor, peasants!"

>Adler: Careful now, that disguise is having some kind of effect on you. It would be bad if your fictional persona took over completely, hopefully there isn't some kind of sinister hex on you. However, you may have need of it a while longer. Whatever is going on, someone wants your brother close to the SALVS. He's probably going to be at that prize dinner with the others. Attending that dinner is absolutely vital to your mission. There'll surely be all kinds of sensitive info floating around, not to mention keeping Estmere out of harm's way.
>Adler: Now just lies the obstacle of actually winning the prize. SALV Chesswick seems to have it out for you, probably jealous.
>Avogadro: Do something hilariously pathetic, you miserable creature, you.
>Lemmy: Spill the beans to the great detective a little louder than you should have. Your explanation is heard by more people than you intended.
>Jimmy the Bard: Yeah, that's the stuff. Go full on metal, bro.
>Witnesses: Another con-crasher? Pie him viciously!

Relda, remember one of the primary rules for novice shape-shifters: The threat of becoming your disguise is largest when you're not focused on your work and are enjoying yourself in your new body. So, stop thinking like an unseelie SALV and focus on your mission. Note that the first thing that goes is usually one's instincts, then their drives, then personality, then their self-image and finally their memory. You still appear to be in the first stage, so no rush.

Somebody present, be named "Elfreda". (Elfreda is one of the suggestions my browser gives me when R-clicking on the word "Relda" for some reason...)

Webb and Lemmy, join forces in investigating the vixen of interest. Come to some startling conclusions when comparing notes. Do not realize that you're investigating two completely different vixens...

Jimmy, cause a ruckus.

Avogadro, change your approach.

Agent Earl, come to see what the fuss is about. Cause even more fuss with your continued nakedness.

Alice, find what you're looking for. Realize that you don't have proper tools with you. Improvise.

Next contest, finally start. Delay, happen because one of the carts delivering trap pies has not arrived, causing to be somewhat fewer trap pies in the contest this year than usual.

Adler's army, pillage a delivery wagon. Realize with great delight that it's carrying delicious pies.

>Trap pies: Be made of delicious [skal]*.
>Jimmy the Bard: Emulate your hero, Piotr of Town's End, and play your lute in a "windmill" style, finally smashing it over someone's head.

* Skal: Elfhamian radish. Any non-cervine consuming it will become noxiously gassy. Cf. the campfire scene in "Blazing Saddles."

Damn...Relda's lookin' good in that getup....:D


>SALV Chesswick: Be annoyed that you were pulled into judging PieFightCon when you really should be trying to find out what Adler's up to.

_{So Fifi wants to be "pied" by someone eh?} Hrr hrr hrrr

Dammit...can't think of anything else....it's been a slow couple of weeks...

(Alice + Royal Scuti) Continue to search the Hall of Ancestors.
(Alice + Royal Scuti) Be irritated by the way the Hall seems to be deliberately hiding something.
(Det. Webb) Assemble the three vixens participating in the contest.
(Det. Webb) Point out which vixen is not who she seems.
(Con-goers) Be at first amazed by what Webb reveals...
(Con-goers) ...then go into a quasi-riot when the truth sinks in.
(Con-goers) Start throwing bottles. With ships in them.
(HSH Princess Relda) Fight against the urge to stay a snow-white vixen.
(Urge) Be very, very difficult to fight.
(Wise Professor Skunk) Explain why it is tricky to fight.
(HSH Princess Relda) See Estmere continuing to schmooze with the gi-raffe babe.
(HSH Princess Relda) Believe that Estmere may be in great danger.
(HIM King Estmere) In fact, be in very grave danger.
(HSH Prince Adler) Reveal yourself.
(HSH Prince Adler) Now YOU are in very grave danger.
(Red Caps) Still be at the gate, wondering where your relief is.
(Red Caps) Be annoyed by Jimmy the Bard.
(Jimmy the Bard + Scuti) Demand a proper salute from the Red Caps.
(Red Caps) Deal with Jimmy.

> Change of plans: disappear behind a corner to transmogrify into an ungulate, seduce your brother to lure him into safety.

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Alice, find what you're looking for. Realize that you don't have proper tools with you.
(Alice + Royal Scuti) Continue to search the Hall of Ancestors.

"Hmm," Alice murmured thougtfully as she fingered the heirloom comb and stared at the thrones in the Coronation Chamber.

>Adler: Careful now, that disguise is having some kind of effect on you. It would be bad if your fictional persona took over completely, hopefully there isn't some kind of sinister hex on you. However, you may have need of it a while longer. Whatever is going on, someone wants your brother close to the SALVS. He's probably going to be at that prize dinner with the others. Attending that dinner is absolutely vital to your mission. There'll surely be all kinds of sensitive info floating around, not to mention keeping Estmere out of harm's way.
>Avogadro: Do something hilariously pathetic, you miserable creature, you.
So, stop thinking like an unseelie SALV and focus on your mission.
>SALV Chesswick: Be annoyed that you were pulled into judging PieFightCon when you really should be trying to find out what Adler's up to.
(HSH Princess Relda) Fight against the urge to stay a snow-white vixen.
(HSH Princess Relda) See Estmere continuing to schmooze with the gi-raffe babe.
(HSH Princess Relda) Believe that Estmere may be in great danger.
(HSH Prince Adler) Reveal yourself.
> Change of plans: disappear behind a corner to transmogrify into an ungulate, seduce your brother to lure him into safety.

My mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions as I stood there, looking out over the judges' box and the crowd beyond.

"Let me up!" Avogadro cried from somewhere behind the partition wall. "You don't understand! I'm meant to be her squire! I will hold the pies and brush her tailfur."

This form was far too tempting, with all of the attention and free stuff I could get while in it. I needed to change back to myself, but doing so right here in full view of everyone would be disastrous! I needed to stay under cover a little while longer; I had a mission to carry out, and good reason to believe my brother was in danger!

"Let me extend to you a Royal Invitation to this pie fight dinner thing, babe," he was saying to the giraffe, who grinned and batted her eyelashes at him.

Perhaps I should transmogrify myself into an attractive ungulate Floozy, to seduce Estmere and lead him to safety!

Great Fuma, no! That was an even worse plan! What was I thinking?

"Very vell, Anton," SALV Chesswick barked irritably. "If it is zat important to you, zen fine, I retract mine points deduction. Let's chust get zis foolishness over mit. I haf more important zings to do! I need to be keepink der tabs on Prince Adler's rebellious army, und I can't do zat vhile judging silly contests."

"Hear that, my dear?" Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks simpered at me. "You're going to be going to the dinner with the Emperor, and SALV Kraekenhoepfer, and me, Sweetcheeks."

I had to hold out long enough to attend this dinner! There would be vital intel to gather, as well as my best chance to inform Estmere of the danger he was in. I just needed to remember who I really was, long enough to get through it, and get out.

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Spoiler

one of the primary rules for novice shape-shifters: The threat of becoming your disguise is largest when you're not focused on your work and are enjoying yourself in your new body. Note that the first thing that goes is usually one's instincts, then their drives, then personality, then their self-image and finally their memory.
(Wise Professor Skunk) Explain why it is tricky to fight.

Wise Professor Skunk says: "One of the primary rules for novices of transmogrification is the threat of becoming your disguise and forgetting your original identity. The risk is greatest when the student is not focused on his or her work and is enjoying their new body. The first thing that goes is usually one's instincts, then their drives, then personality, self-image, and last of all their memory."

Webb and Lemmy, join forces in investigating the vixen of interest. Come to some startling conclusions when comparing notes. Do not realize that you're investigating two completely different vixens...

"You say you tracked her from the Gladsome Antglade?" Glenholm Webb inquired. "That is curious indeed, since she hails originally from frozen Lengra-Cha."



"You fell for that?" Lemmy chuckled. "Wait til I tell my son about how I, Lemuel O'Possum, knew something that the great detective Glenholm Webb didn't know!"

"I'm not infallible, young elf," detective Webb remarked drily. "So what you say intrigues me. Are you quite sure of your vixen? She has, if this is who I think it is, changed her appearance quite dramatically."

"She certainly has," Lemmy crowed. "There's very few indeed that would recognize her in her present shape."

"I cannot figure what she would be doing in the Antglade," Webb muttered, with a thoughtful puff of his pipe.

"I can tell you all about it, sir," Lemmy declared smugly.

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>Jimmy the Bard: Yeah, that's the stuff. Go full on metal, bro.
Jimmy, cause a ruckus.
(Red Caps) Still be at the gate, wondering where your relief is.
(Red Caps) Be annoyed by Jimmy the Bard.

"You dare bar me entrance to my own royal city?" Jimmy snarled at the gate guards. "Do you not know who I am?"

"My guess is, you're a kook," Angus quipped. "Some kind of Irenaeus impersonator who let the act go to his head."

"Aye, and yer the oonly interestin' thing to come along all day," Nero added. "So, laddie, we'll be detainin' ye til our relief comes - if it ever does - fer the sake o' Con Security. We're under threat o' siege, ye ken. And ye look somewhat like an insurgent ta me."

"In my day, my reputation alone was enough to keep invaders out," Jimmy growled. "We didn't need guards! I'll have your heads on pikes, to decorate the battlements."

>Alice: Time for the backup plan.
>Adler: Well, it looks like the choice has been made for you. I hope you have something formal to wear. Who are the other two contest winners? Hopefully Izzy and Ms. Heft. They seem like the type of folks who'd be fun in a formal setting.
>Adler: If it would get him to stop weeping, you could take Avogadro on as your temporary squire. You might be able to get information out of him, and his antics might help keep people distracted from your impending personality crisis.
>Lemmy: Breathlessly explain to Glenholm in painstakingly agonized detail everything that led you up to this exact moment. After you catch your breath, realize that you weren't supposed to tell anybody and the Duchess will probably boil you alive if she ever finds out.
>Percy: Do something that you really shouldn't.
>Scuti-Preston: In your long and storied life, you have been captured and driven through tortures that would break lesser men more than once, but never before have you been forced to endure something as agonizingly and embarrassingly ego-shattering as this. Your two captors, one of them keeps trying to teach you how to make model ships and the other seems to think you're a relationship counselor.
>Angus: Reveal that your wife is a shrub.

>Adler: To avoid losing yourself you have to focus on what's always been central to your character: use of Wiles.
>Adler: Wile them up!
>The boys: Be bewildered.

>The spectators (those that aren't beating the living crap out of-oh I mean subduing-Avogadro that is): Loudly complain that there's no way the competition could finish with just one contest. There's still the pie eating, pie throwing and escaping Grossfunk dastardly devices to go!

>SALV Chesswick: Slap forehead at the realization that the contest is far from over.
>Relda: Slap forehead at the realization that you'll be stuck in that form for a while longer.
>Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks: Leer at Relda. Be anticipating a wonderful dinner with her (Relda)
>Fifi: Be optimistic of her chances during the next round.

Vixen of interest, do something suspicious. Only witness, decide not to report it for a rather bizarre reason.

Relda, focus on your mission and try NOT to enjoy yourself too much. Have much difficulty due to various distractions, such as the shiny medals worn by the handsome, manly fox at the judge table. Going to dinner, and maybe other places with him wouldn't be so bad, would it? Slap yourself in an attempt to purge your mind of vixeny thoughts. Temporarily succeed.

Relda's odd behaviour, be noticed, but be mistaken for her impatience to start the next contest.

A series of muffled explosion-like sounds, be just barely audible somewhere in the distance.

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>Lemmy: Breathlessly explain to Glenholm in painstakingly agonized detail everything that led you up to this exact moment.

"It all started when I was abandoned in the Antglade," Lemmy began.

"Now now, don't tell me everything," Detective Glenholm Webb interrupted. "I want to deduce it."

"Ooh, can I watch?" Lemmy asked excitedly.



"Now then," the Detective mused. "If I had to guess why she was in the Gladsome Antglade, it would be for the purpose of forming an alliance .."

"You're on the right track," Lemmy urged.

".. between Vulpitania and the Duchess of Daisies."

"Sorry, you're ice cold on that one."

"Furthermore, how could she have come so quickly from the Antglade to be here now, with Prince Adler's army blocking the way, and taking into account the extra weight she's carrying?"

"Oh, she didn't have those for most of the trip, sir," Lemmy chuckled.

"Go on," Detective Webb said, puffing on his pipe. "You interest me strangely."

>Adler: Well, it looks like the choice has been made for you. I hope you have something formal to wear.
>Adler: If it would get him to stop weeping, you could take Avogadro on as your temporary squire.
>Adler: To avoid losing yourself you have to focus on what's always been central to your character: use of Wiles.
>Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks: Leer at Relda. Be anticipating a wonderful dinner with her
Have much difficulty due to various distractions, such as the shiny medals worn by the handsome, manly fox at the judge table. Going to dinner, and maybe other places with him wouldn't be so bad, would it?

"I trust you have something suitable to wear to a formal dinner, my dear," Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks leered. "If not - I, Sweetcheeks, would be happy to provide you with a gown."

The thought hit me with almost crippling force, that I didn't have a formal gown for the VIP dinner! It was absolutely vital that I be dressed in something slinky and daringly low-cut so I could look my best next to the dashing Vulpsmarshal and his bravely glimmering medals! I would also need an assistant, a lackey of some sort .. a lowly wretch whose debasement would elevate my status.



"Hey, stop browbeating that elf!" I called to the crowd. "I need Sergeant Avogadro to be my squire!"

"She spoke my name!" Avogadro squealed weakly from somewhere behind the partition. "I can go to Fuma's Embrace happy!"

>The spectators: Loudly complain that there's no way the competition could finish with just one contest. There's still the pie eating, pie throwing and escaping Grossfunk dastardly devices to go!
Slap yourself in an attempt to purge your mind of vixeny thoughts. Temporarily succeed.
Relda's odd behaviour, be noticed, but be mistaken for her impatience to start the next contest.

"It's not time for the prize banquet yet!" someone in the crowd called out.

"There's more contests yet to go!" another spectator yelled.

"What's the holdup?" somebody else added.

"We are waiting for word that the next event is ready," Sweetcheeks explained loudly. "Apparently the wagonload of pies for the tasting & throwing competitions has been misplaced."

"Ach du lieber," SALV Chesswick groaned. "You mean zere is more of zis foolishness yet to come?"

"Aw, man," Estmere grumbled. "More vixens? How long is this gonna take? I got a hot date with the tallest Floozy ever, and, like, I can't wait, dude."



My half-brother's plaintive voice snapped me out of my reverie. Great Fuma! What was I doing, thinking such vixenish thoughts about Sweetcheeks and the pitiful Sergeant? I had to stay FOCUSED, or all would be lost!

I slapped myself sternly in an attempt to regain my senses.

"Vhat is der problem, contestant?" Alberta asked. "Or should I say, SALV Fauxfox? Vhy you hittink yourself?"

"Ah, of course," Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks sighed. "Fauxfox. I thought I recognized you. I, Sweetcheeks, know this vixen quite well. She, heh heh, gets violent when she is excited. Probably overcome with anticipation of dining this evening with me, Sweetcheeks."

"She hasn't won all of the contests yet!" a spectator reminded him loudly.

"How does a whole wagonload of pies get misplaced?" someone else asked.

"Maybe Adler's rebel army captured it," another elf joked.

The crowd went quiet as an ominous rumble, sort of like thunder, sounded from somewhere off to the Southeast.

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From the Chanson du Percy:

>Percy: Do something that you really shouldn't.
Vixen of interest, do something suspicious. Only witness, decide not to report it for a rather bizarre reason.

While the elves stood bickering, distracted amongst themselves, brave Percy crept out in search of souvenirs and a better vantage point from which to observe their strange rituals.



"Hey, you! Bird!" a portly vixen who had participated in the pastry-dodging dance hissed at him. "Vhat is ein sqvab doink in ein Vulpitanian SALV's uniform?"

"I'm er, collaborating," Percy nobly improvised.

"Looks to me like you are schneakink about," the vixen whispered imperiously. "Ze whole sing zeems to me highly zuspicious. Vhich means it must be official Vulpitanian business! Sehr gut! I need for you to do somezink for me."

"What is it you wish, ma'am?"

"Schneak over to der Embassy und get me der dossier on zis SALV Fauxfox. I haff never zeen her before, und zomesink doesn't zeem right."

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Meanwhile, at the city gate:

>Scuti-Preston: In your long and storied life, you have been captured and driven through tortures that would break lesser men more than once, but never before have you been forced to endure something as agonizingly and embarrassingly ego-shattering as this. Your two captors, one of them keeps trying to teach you how to make model ships and the other seems to think you're a relationship counselor.
>Angus: Reveal that your wife is a shrub.

"Never in all my centuries," Jimmy seethed, "have I endured two such insufferable buffoons! Cease your moronic prattling! Get that bottle out of my face! When I get out of these shackles, I will rend you asunder!"

"Laddie, ye'd be doin' me a favor," Nero sighed. "Our relief still hasn't come, and I'm almost a day later than I said I'd be hoome. Me missus'll have me hide for sure."

"Why do you not assert your dominance over the female?" Jimmy yowled. "Are you an elf or a lowfolk? Don't take that sass from her! Either rend her asunder or shut up! I cannot abide the sound of your pathetic mewling!"

"Somebody's just a bit high-strung," Angus suggested. "You should take up a hobby. It will help soothe your nerves. Just look at this lovely clipper I made -"

"RRRGH," Jimmy growled.

"So that's the secret o' handlin' femmes?" Nero asked. "Rendin' them asoonder? I doon't think me Sal would stand fer it."

"That's what you get for choosing a femme with a fiery disposition," Angus quipped. "My mate is content to just quietly rustle around the house. When I get home, she won't say a word. We'll just sit down and she'll let me nibble on her."

"She has delicious leaves," he added dreamily, after a moment's pause.

"ENOUGH!" Jimmy shrieked.

Audience, bring your own pies and other pie-like pastries, the quality of which varies drastically. The contest must go on!

Relda, keep getting distracted by various vixeny things. But be very good when it comes to anything pie. Except actually baking them. Share your normal form's culinary weakness, namely desserts.

Avogadro, go please your mistress. Do not mind doing unseelie things for her.

Marshal Theronmyathus, receive an urgent report that the scouts keeping an eye on the rebels had to make a sudden retreat, due to the rebels releasing a large quantity of noxious gas around their camp. Worry that it's a secret superweapon they intend to use on the city in order to depopulate it before they occupy it.

Percy, attempt to follow the instructions. Be forced to improvise a lot.

Alice, go look for proper tools. Find something that might work.

Lemmy and Glenholm, still do not be on the proverbial same page. But start closing in on it.

>Glenholm: Start to suspect that the two of you are tracking different people. Lemmy does not, even when you tell him.
>Relda: It seems like poor planning that they'd have the prize for a pie eating contest be a fancy dinner, but you must endure if you are going to impress that steaming hunk of an Adonis over at the judge's table. I mean, save your brother and secure your throne.
>Advogadro: Being the abused servant of an uncaring, shallow vixen is what your entire life has been leading up to. Don't squander it.
>Percy: Your sneaking could be better. To put it politely, an explosion in a wind-chime factory would be less noticeable. Thing is, because you are being so overtly suspicious in your infiltration, your presence in the embassy goes completely unchallenged. "Yeah, that's about right," they all say.
>Scut-Preston: If someone's bugging you, render them asunder. If someone cuts in line, render them asunder. If your wife is nagging you, render her asunder. If the jam-jar wont open, render it asunder. I bet that's how you cut the grass too. Jeez man,that's your answer for everything.
>Scuti-Preston: It seems like the only way to get them to shut up. Give in and try building a model ship... Hey, this is kinda nice, actually.

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Spoiler >Theronmyathus: See all of Avogadro's antics on a scrying orb and be heavily dissapointed. Turn to Earl.
Theronmyathus: "Avogadro is no longer fit for the uniform, how would you like to be my new Sergeant?"
Earl: "Do I gotta wear clothes?"
Theronmyathus: "Not anymore."
Earl: "Far out, man!"

>Scuti Jimmy Prime: Fly into berserker rage, your body makes a furious twist inside your skin, your temple-sinews bulge into mighty knobs, one eye sucked into skull etc. etc.

(Brave Percy) Infiltrate the Embassy
(Embassy Front Desk) Be manned by a Vulp reading a "Pie Fight Valkyrie" scroll. (A good one! It's the cross-over with Jane, the Lowfolk Femme)
(Brave Percy) Find the "Room Full of Der Files Und Ozzer Schneaky Schtoff"
(Brave Percy) Request the SALV Faufox File. Get it.
(Brave Percy) Request the Percy le Goeblet File. To your dismay, get it.
(Brave Percy) Turn the Faufox File over to the chubby vixen.
(Mrs. Nero) Show up at the gate, rolling pin in paw.
(Mrs. Nero) Start in on your mate, letting him know what a good-for-nothing he is.
(Jimmy the Bard/Scuti Prime) Intervene in the argument.
(Jimmy the Bard/Scuti Prime) Regret your intervention, as Mrs. Nero knows how to use her rolling pin.
(Det. Glenholm Webb) Let Lemmy babble on. Draw a valuable inference from the mass of idiocy he's talking about.
(Lemmy) Be proud. You're HELPING the great Glenholm Webb!
(Con-goers) Start to get rowdy, since the contest is being held up.
(Con-goers) Throw things at the judges. Even HM King Estmere.
(Long, tall an' Lovely Gi-raffe) Object to things being thrown at the Cute King.
(Long, tall an' Lovely Gi-raffe) Threaten to rend the other con-goers asunder.
(Jimmy the Bard/Scuti Prime) Hear that clarion call! A femme worthy of your...steel.
(Riot) Break out.
(Earl) Observe that what the city needs is some serious weed. And maybe some soothing music.
(Ominous Rumble, Source Thereof) Manifest yourself.

Damn...Relda's looking really good in that getup...

_{She's looking so good I've said this twice already.}

>Relda: Realize with great horror that you're thinking that Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks is attractive and you want to do things to him that Fuma will find very congenial. Didn't you kick in that simpering idiot's teeth in the last time you met? How could you find that pathetic fox attractive?! Become really angry. Added bonus, the anger helps you to regain your focus.
>Percy: Your search for the the Vulpitanian Embassy is hampered by your not knowing where it is.
>Percy: Be further hampered by everyone else not being aware that the Vulpitanian's have set up a new embassy since the old one was mysteriously blown up by a somewhat familiar white vixen.
>Fifi: Suffer a sudden wardrobe malfunction
>SALV Chesswick: Remind Fifi Fofox that she was disqualified for already attempting to use wiles on the judges and to get off the stage.
>Fifi: "But this outfit is cheaply made..." (That what you get for using wiles on a merchant of bootleg Pie Fight Valkerie goods, Fifi)
>Fifi: Wonders why Relda's outfit's still on, you both got the outfits from the same merchant.

[oooch] Jeez...next time proofread....

Relda: Keep focused on the contests when the pie throwing comes give it all you got throw that pie into orbit and bring down a satellite!
Estmere: Try your luck at singing a beautiful serenade to the tall floozy, fail but because of your importance of station she doesn't give a damn and falls for you
SALV Chesswick: Have flashbacks to when your father forced you to be in professional pie throwing tournaments, all those wasted practices and you became "shudder" adequate. One of your worst failures.
Scuti-Preston: Remember your in the body of screechy voiced country bumpkin, begin singing the most ear grating song to force the guards to release you.
Angus: Drop your newest model ship on the hard ground breaking it when you hear the horrid noises coming from the mouth of this bumpkin.
Avagadro: Prostrate yourself on the ground before Relda and promise her, her every wish and desire. Begin kissing her feet

Relda: Keep focused on the contests when the pie throwing comes give it all you got throw that pie into orbit and bring down a satellite!

Satellite, really be in orbit for some mysterious and unexplained reason.

Avagadro: Prostrate yourself on the ground before Relda and promise her, her every wish and desire. Begin kissing her feet

This is weird. The reason I opened the Ballad today was to edit my own submission to add exactly that suggestion. Though I would have used the sentence "Grovel at her feet".