Out of Character:
For the fluidity of the scene, and so as to keep whatever sanity may remain to you dear readers, RumpleGrumblePuss' work will be in blockquotes in this post.
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"Oh, that's sexy too... and the real music hasn't started yet," giggled the dream demon as she wiggled about and softly said, "Shake shake shake, shake shake shake, shake your booty," to her actions. "I think it's almost ready," she added, baiting every ear around her.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the music kicked up to the funky Disco beat that had alienated a whole generation from their parents. Only the flecks of discoball light played across the increasing kinetic energy of the crowd. Then, a spotlight shone down from the ceiling, centering directly on the white-suited man who was facing away. Like a god, he thrust into the air his pointing right hand, his wooden hand, and made the silent proclamation that they were all going to Funky Town.
"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk,
I'm a woman's man: no time to talk."
As he spun around, Edgar sang it in a voice that was, amazingly, nothing like a troll chewing rocks. He even had a definite air of charisma around him, and it wasn't just because of the disco lights reflecting oddly from the gummy side of his face, what little could be seen between the wig and the collar.
"Music loud and women warm.
I've been kicked around since I was born.
And now it's all right - it's O.K. -
And you may look the other way.
We can try to understand,
The New York Times' effect on man."
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As the lights dimmed and the music started up I found myself tapping a foot despite myself. In the dizzying, half-light I shrugged after a moment, it was, after all, only a dream. None of these people were real and who would know that I, the uber hippy hater, was slowly getting in to the groove and dancing to music that had died out several years before I was ever born.
Like all eyes in the crowd my gaze was drawn to the white figure. The wooden hand that moved up into the classic postion should have tipped me off, yet I found myself completely surprised as the figure turned out to be none other than Edgar. Of course, who else would Calico uses to be the center-fold of a dream? She thinks Edgar and I are married
He strutted toward Kahlina, his right arm still thrusting from his hip to the air, and the usual awkward rigidity of his body suddenly made sense. It made perfect sense. It made so much sense that two - no, three women behind him fainted with big grins.
With his eye locked on the only woman who mattered, Edgar launched into the chorus as he dropped to his knees and bounded back up, over and over.
"Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,
You're stayin alive, stayin' alive.
Feel the city breakin' and ev'rybody shakin'
and we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive."
Calico suddenly overrode him with a high, keening rendition of,
"Ah, ha, ha, ha. Stayin' Ali-i-i-i-ive!"
The only sound audible over her in the whole club wasn't the bodies that jived about like electrons, nor was it even the pulsing of the base beat. It was the cringe-inducing sound of reinforced glass breaking as Edgar's right knee struck a spider web of white lines into every lighted floor tile that he scooted over. Good thing that he kept moving forward, lest he pound himself into a razor sharp pot hole.
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Embarassed, I giggled as Edgar sang to me, I could feel my skin burn as if I had lain naked in the sun for days. I was also certain that at that moment I was doing a great impression of a lobster.
Calico’s pirceingly high singing voice gave me the reason to look away from the suave dream Edgar. Half heartedly I smiled at her, at the child-like enthusiam with which she did, well, everything.
And he picked up where Calico left off, his smooth voice vibrating through every body.
"Well now, I get low and I get high
And if I can't get either I really try.
Got the wings of heaven on my shoes
I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose.
You know it's all right, it's O.K.
I'll live to see another day
We can try to understand,
The New York Times' effect on man.
"Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,
You're stayin alive, stayin' alive.
Feel the city breakin' and ev'rybody shakin'
and we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Ah, ha, ha, ha, Stayin' Alive."
Nearly every voice joined him in the last line, most of all his master's.
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Not wanting to be a dead horse or as they say, a square. I finally shoved my embarassment aside and joined in with the last few lines.
Suddenly, the tempo slammed to a crawl and every couple latched onto each other like they were falling. Edgar flickered from Disco-King-mode to the slow rhythm of the love song instantaneously, and it was with the smoothest of motions that he swept toward Kahlina and wrapped his arms about her, tilting her helplessly back. "Let me take you away to a magical place," he intoned, his voice deep and luxurious as he brought his face closer.
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The sudden shifting in music threw me for a moment, I glanced around and promptly forced my eyes back to the realitive saftey of watching Edgar. Some of the dancing I had seen from the couples on the floor could have been at home in a snuff film. Stiffening in the wooden and gummy arms, I could swear that the lips in the gooey half of Egdar’s face were puckering slightly. Horrified, I closed my eyes. It’s just a dream, wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP!!!
Kahlina vanished from the scene like a mirage and left Edgar kissing the air like a lonely teenager practicing for the prom. "Aww... they always wake up before the bedroom scene," Calico pouted, but she was too happy and filled with the spirit of dance to concern herself too much.
With a flick of her flailing hands, she created a dream Kahlina in Edgar's arms, one dressed in the the earlier, bare-all costume. It was fortunate that no mortal witnessed the bedroom scene that followed.
Edgar, of course, did witness it. He had watched from his own bubble the entire act, and it left him confused. They say that children gain self recognition at around age three. Edgar was about one year into his existence, so he knew not that the white-suited hunk o' burnin' love was supposed to be him. He did recognize Kahlina and his master, and their spasms worried him. He knew much about pain, and what the people did in that club - all their shaking and spinning and stomping about - was no doubt a sign of some horrible agony.
Thankfully, Edgar didn't may as much attention when the clothes came off. His Althanas self had felt Kahlina wake, so he wanted to check if she was broken. Amazingly, and clear as a bell, he knew that his concern was not born from a desire to see near-death again.
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Heart pounding and gasping, I sat up wide awake and thankful to be awake. That was utterly disturbing. The fact that Edgar was sitting up and watching me, creeped me out. Shuddering, I smiled wanly at Edgar and wished him a good morning. The sound of soft footsteps approaching had me look up, shielding my eyes against the glare of the early morning sun.