Some audience members (Patreon)

take advantage of a break in the story to talk to our Guest Narrator.

"We would like to say," you say, "how grateful we are that you came all the way out here to fill in for and protect our wise and generous narrator."

No thanks needed.  I like, consider it my duty to repay all of the super rad and poppin' fresh entertainment Adler has given us over the years.

"It can't be understated what an honor this is."

Oh totally.

"We'd like to bestow a token of our appreciation."

That's not necessary.

"Several tokens. Would you like to have a seat in this un-suspicious chair?"

Oh, okay, looks majorly comfy.

"Care to have a sip or two of this warm drink that hasn't been tampered with?"

Sweet!  My throat was getting wicked dry from all that reading.

"You'd look so dapper with this tie on. Don't worry about taking it, I have more."

Aw, no way, man.  Ties are like, most definitely not my style.

But thanks for everything else!  You guys are so swell, I might go so far as to say you were dope, and additionally fly!  Now I can continue the story in max comfort.  Let me just set this drink down and get the book ... here we are ... so next Adler says ...

I slowly lowered my arms as my dramatic mood deflated and my butterflies flew away.  I scowled at the old crone.  The entire coven was watching me expectantly.  Rebecca grinned and nodded, and made a thumbs-up gesture.  Might as well finish this, I thought.  With a weary sigh, I peered into the old opossum's mind.

"And you," I muttered blankly.  "You are guilty of-"

"No-no!" she cackled.  "Do the voice."

"Yes," the coven chimed in.  "The voice was cool."

"Pleeeeeaaaaase!" Rebecca added from the back.

"Okay, fine," I grumbled.  I took a deep breath and bellowed "AND YOU!!"  Some of the witches politely applauded.  "You spend every waking moment stewing in jealousy and thoughts of revenge!  You would learn witchcraft to infuse dark magicks into food so you can cheat at baking contests!"

"Not just that!" the old crone cackled madly.  "I'd also whip up a hex so that hussy would never be able to bake a decent pie ever again!  Every time she tries to make a sweet pie it'll turn out sour, and if she tries to make a sour pie it'll turn out sweet!  Eee hee hee hee hee!  Ever since SHE moved in, I've been stuck in second place!  Every contest, every festival, every holiday, and every spontaneous bake-off in the vibrant pastry culture my town is famous for!  I was the Legendary Baker, and then she just waltzed in and stole my title!  It drove me well nigh mad!  Mad, I say!  So I built a shack in the wilderness and spent years living life as a hermit, concocting horrid recipes and plotting witchcraft based revenge!"

"Now now, Mother Didelphis," Rebecca said, touching the old opossum's shoulder soothingly.  "Calm down."

"Yes, remember your heart," the bear (mouse?) added.

"Your lumbago," the vixen pointed out.

"Your potted eels," the duck murmured dreamily.

As the coven fussed over the old opossum, I stared at them in bewilderment.  I had given them a grade-A performance!  Any lowfolk who saw that should have been groveling by now.  Instead they were all acting like they had just seen a street juggler.

"Why were you people not brought to your knees in fear and awe?" I asked.

"I can explain!" Rebecca chirped happily.  "Some of them were worried about coming out here after I was elf-shot, but I told them that you wouldn't let anything bad happen to them.  I made sure they knew that Lord Randall is the nicest, sweetest, most generous, and most Seelie elf ever!  He is a charming and sensitive soul, and a big romantic.  When he talks to Miss Vernier, it's the cutest thing ever!  Tee hee!  Then I explained how you turned me away from a destructive path, meticulously teaching me what it means to be Seelie and live in the loving aura of Lady Fuma, who's not a demon at all.  The coven has nothing to fear from Lord Randall, as he will accept them all with open, loving arms!  I also told them that you were putting a show together, so it would be rude not to go.  And that show did not disappoint!"

I just stared goggle-eyed at Rebecca as she said all this, and continued staring for a few seconds after she finished.

"Why did you tell them that?" I finally managed to wheeze out.

"Because it's Seelie to tell the truth!"

"HAW HAW HAW," Burnside guffawed.  "Ya big Seelie weenie!  That's whatcha get fer fillin' the poor gal's head with all that goody-goody junk, an' not givin' her a script!"

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