A-Hunting He Will go, or Jareth's Unlikely Adventure
by Maed and Kitty

Disclaimer:

This fanfic is highly offensive, and contains many bad puns, references to
homosexuality, wordplay, and guest appearances. I suppose the whole point
is not to take it too seriously. The goal is to shock, offend, disgust, and
amuse all at the same time. NOT to attack or anger anyone personally. Of
course, there's always going to be someone to write a letter to the editor,
so I'm saying here and now:

If you don't like it, you can BITE ME.

If you're already offended by the aforementioned items, BITE ME.

Actually, you can just refrain from reading it and THEN BITE ME.

I understand that this list is comprised of people from many different
cultures besides American. PLEASE do not be afraid to ask questions or stop
me if you don't understand something and want details.

Special thanks to Anakerie, from whose works we shamelessly and without
remorse stole an idea.

Now on with the show...

A-Hunting He Will Go, or
Jareth's Unlikely Adventure

Introduction

A tall gentleman in a lemon yellow cardigan and khaki trousers, his hair
dusted gray with age, stepped lightly through the door in the hedge and
found himself in a magical forest. He looked around, the corners of his
mouth turning up as he saw the audience before him.

"Hello boys and girls. It's your old pal, Mr. Rogers," he said, as though
he'd known them all their lives. "We've just come into a magical place, did
you know that? It's called the Underground. Can you say LABYRINTH? I
thought you could. I'm going to sing a little song now. Won't you sing with
me? Come on now. All together:

"It's a beautiful day in the Underground,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?"

The older gentleman removed his cardigan and hung it carefully on a branch
shaped, oddly enough, like a coat hanger. He sat down on a log fallen
nearby and untied his patent leather oxfords, slipping them off as well.

"It's a magical day in this beauty wood,
A magical day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?"

He began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a thatch of iron-gray chest hair
that rivaled Khan's in his later years. Though many mommies in the audience
found him strangely and startlingly handsome, this guy had nothing on
Ricardo Montalban.

"I've always wanted to have a neighbor just like you.
I've always wanted to live in the Underground with you."

Sweat glistened on his brow now (how now, brown cow!) , the song melting
from his lips. Mr. Rogers knelt down, straddling the microphone stand.

One of the mommies stood up and whipped her panties at his head. She'd feel
much worse about this later, considering she hadn't taken them off first.

"So, let's make the most of this beautiful day..."

He stood slowly, licking the bar as he oozed his way back up the sleek metal.

"Since we're together we might as well say:
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?"

He flicked his tongue, toying with his zipper. He was in rare form tonight,
crooning like a filthy angel. There wasn't a dry eye in the house; all the
children started to cry, confused by the Bad Man on stage. Where were the
puppets? Where the hell was the trolley???

"Won't you be my neighbor?
Won't you please,
Won't you please?
Please won't you be my neighbor?"

At last, the Velcro gave way and he stripped his pants away like a seasoned
pro. He stood in a sequined bejeweled g-string, his butt cheeks like great
sagging moons as he waggled them at the amorous mommies and stunned
toddlers. His old man breasts hung like pale mistletoe, waiting for someone
to linger beneath their dangling succulence. The children wailed harder.
Who was this Bad Man on stage? Where were the puppets? Where the hell was
the trolley???

Suddenly, the clang of the trolley echoed nearby. He went around to the
audience, collecting ones and fives and few nickels in his pouch ( *eg*)
before hopping on board.

"Come on boys and girls! Let's go!" He beckoned and waved as the trolley
disappeared in the distance, clanging its merry goodbyes.

Some followed; many stopped reading right here and now.

But all wondered exactly WHAT would happen next.

***************************************

A-Hunting He Will Go, or Jareth's Unlikely Adventure, pt. 2

Jareth tiptoed through the overgrown Underground underbrush, careful not to
make a sound with his dainty little size nines. He carried Annette-

"Not Annette, you twitninny! A net! For catching things!"

So what did you catch from Annette, hmm?

Jareth ignored the question.

"Who's telling this story?" he asked, an ignoble glare in his eyes.

"I thought so."

Anyway, it was a lovely crystal-clear day with only a slight chill in the
air. His nipples were playfully taut and rubbed defiantly against his best
bright orange velvet hunting blouse. They seemed to be arguing about, of
all things, the weather.

Nipple 1: It's cold! *pokepoke*
Nipple 2: Sissy!
Nipple 1: Fag!
Nipple 2: Fag hag!

"Shut up!" Jareth bellowed

Nipple Chorus: QUEEN!

"Be vewy vewy quiet," he whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I'm
hunting Wound Wobbins."

<Insert Looney Tunes music here>

***

Jareth was not sitting on his throne. In fact, he was standing. He was
nowhere near the throne or the throne room or even the castle, for that matter.

He was distantly close, lost deep in the entrance to the forest. In the
distance he could hear the goblins running amok, searching for their
fearless leader beneath stones and leaves, for rarely did he ever desert
his throne. Especially these days. Yon ill winds had begun brewing in the
south again, and the closer he stayed to the throne room, the happier
everyone was.

He trudged further into the forest to hunt the latest scourge threatening
the sanctity of his kingdom. They weren't large creatures, nearly
unnoticeable in small numbers, roughly the size of a chicken pot pie, only
much rounder and without the flaky crust. However, they did have a creamy
center, and Jareth was determined to garnish the Goblin City with their
delicate entrails ere the sun had set.

He gripped the shotgun tighter. He could almost hear their pitiful little
squeals and pleas, begging for mercy.

He spotted movement to the east through a tangle of undergrowth. With
determined concentration, he lifted the rifle, took aim, and lovingly
squeezed the trigger.

A burst of glitter exploded from the barrel, followed by a loud pathetic wail.

Then, "DRIVEL!"

Ah...the call of the elusive Round Robin!

Jareth smiled in gleeful triumph. "Bagged one!" he exclaimed through
clenched teeth as the Round Robin dropped to the ground with a hollow thunk.

"JUNK!" The dying RR called insistently. "CRAP!" It struggled to get to its
feet - a grand feat (feet?) considering it never had a leg to stand on in
the first place.

He held up Annette -

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU PANSY!"

"A NET! A NET, you idiot! I don't want Annette!"

Annette huffed in consternation. "I don't want you either, you magnificent
pouf!"

Jareth sighed and glared at the writers, who apologized sheepishly, but
secretly snickered behind his back.

He held up a net ("That's better!") and called his trusty retriever,
pointing off into the underbrush. "HOTFLASH! Go get it boy!"

The stunted gnome dropped to all fours, limping and loping along with his
nose to the ground. Finally he came to where the Round Robin lay like a
useless cowflop, beating its flightless wings against its roly-poly body.

"Ugh!" Jareth said, surveying the damage. This was the ugliest one yet. It
rolled in the dirt, a tragic sight, and would have been altogether pitiful
had it not been wearing a gorgeous emerald green gown, studded with genuine
cubic zirconia and lined with the roughened pelt of a Tibetan yak beaten
severely through the rainy season --

"NO!" Jareth screamed, stamping his regal foot. "I will NOT go into a
lengthy description of its ball gown!"

Fine, fine. Keep your tights on. Let's just say then that it was wearing
nothing.

Jareth took a step back. "You mean to say it's...naked?"

Nipple 1: Naked?

Nipple 2: Naked?

Tremont the Royal Tallywhacker: NAKED? HELLO! Up Periscope! Now where's
that cute little Annette...?

Jareth gaped. "Tremont! I'm warning you! If you give me any trouble, I'll..."

Tremont the Regal Tool: You'll what? Viciously manhandle me? Oh, please
do...it's been SUCH a long time!

Nipples: Furtive snickering.

"Back in your cages!" Jareth roared. "Everybody down! Annette's not even here!"

"Here I am!" squealed the filmy net, its wooden handle warm against his palm.

"Not you too!" he cried. "Shut up and go away!"

"Well I never!" the net squeaked indignantly.

"And you won't! Not with me!"

"Guys like you prefer the handle, anyway," she harrumphed, and fell silent.

Tremont the Esteemed Phallus moaned piteously. "Now look what he's gone and
done! I haven't seen any action at all since Jareth discovered his prostate!"

Stunned silence.

"Ahem," he coughed, turning his head. "Let's move on, shall we? HOEDOWN!
Retrieve that...thing!"

Hoggle looked warily at Jareth, turned and squatted with his backside as
far from the king as possible.

"Hurry it up!"

"Keep your pants on," the dwarf mumbled. "It ain't goin' nowhere. It's a
Round Robin. It died a long time ago."

"What?"

"It's already dead! It just don't know it yet!"

"Really! What kind of a creature is this...thing?" Jareth whispered,
approaching the flopping little beast with caution.

Hoggle, deep in thought, scratched his balls and licked his fingers. Jareth
retched convulsively. "Looks like what we got here is a Round Robin. They
all come from the same place - they're so inbred they're all their own
grandpas. But I don't know a whole lot about 'em. What we need is an expert
in the field."

Jareth: [Turns to camera] "Why don't you tell us a little about this
extraordinary species, Steve?"

Steve Irwin, AKA the Crocodile Hunter, bounds onto the set with enormous
enthusiasm, leaving his wife and assistant Terri in a cloud of dust.

"'allo all! Today we're journeying through one of the most DEADly and
unexPLORED terrains in the Underground...the LABYRINTH! Note the scrubby
underbrush and dusty ground, and an almost complete lack of watering holes.
It's no wonder the species that populate this area [points at Jareth] are
frequently malnourished and underdeveloped-"

Tremont the Mighty Boner [pops his head up and growls]:  HEY!

"Sorry, but it's the law of nature! BY CRIKEY! Look what we've got here!"
He picked up the Round Robin, now in its final death throes, and cradled it
gently in his hands. "This poor little fella is your common variety Round
Robin, opus vulgaris. It's a GORgeous specimen, with the most BEAUtiful
plumage..."

"Steve, can we hurry it up?" Terri tapped her foot and glanced at the Rolex
on her wrist. "I'm lactating and I need to feed little Bindy Sue!" She
jerked her thumb back at the carrier hoisted on her back. Bindy Sue in her
red and white striped PJs smiled toothlessly, her cheeks like little cherry
tomatoes.

"Have at it, love!" He waved her away, "I'm working now!"

She rolled her eyes and went off behind a tree, unbuttoning her blouse.

"As I was saying, the PLUMage on this little guy is fanTAStic! Look
here..." he ruffled through the creature's fur, eliciting a tiny hiccup.
"Oh! It's a sheila! Sorry, little missus! The female of this species is an
extraORDinary mother, and can have an infinite number of offspring in her
lifetime. Imagine reproducing and reproducing...it never, ever STOPS!"

Jareth nodded. Yes, he understood well. He had so many offspring by so many
females - Sarah alone had birthed no less than a thousand! - that he could
be the proud father of his own republic!

"Unfortunately," Steve continued, "this is not an indigenous species - that
is, Round Robins have been introduced into this ecosystem, and therefore
pose a threat to the local wildlife. Worse, they breed like RABBITS, so
some manner of population control is necessary to maintain a state of
homeostasis."

Jareth blinked. Hoggle picked his nose absently.

Steve went on, caught up in the thrill of a captive audience.

"AMAZing creature! Watch this!" He poked the ailing Round Robin with a
stick. The creature whimpered then rolled over, silent. "Round Robins have
teeny tiny brains, the size of one of those TINY little frozen peas. And
alMOST as GREEN! In fact, their brains are SO small and their nervous
systems SO simple, they don't remember anything that happened to them more
than two seconds ago! They could experience the same thing again and again,
and it would ALWAYS be new to them!"

Two seconds? Jeez. That's worse than my goldfish.

Jareth sneered at the writers. "And who asked you?"

Just putting in our .02, for what it's worth.

Steve looked off into the distance, suddenly taken with a rustling beyond
the varied oaks and spruce trees. He dropped the Round Robin and scurried
off, yelling, "Terri! Come on, girl! There's a grand shaggy beast over
there and he is a BEAUTY!"

Ludo, whose great gentle black eyes were just visible peeping through the
trees, gave a horrified grunt and set off at a dead lope. That guy wasn't
going to poke HIM with a stick and sift through HIS fur to check out his
naughty bits, no WAY!

Jareth shook his head sadly and picked up the hated little beast. With two
fingers, he dropped it gingerly into the sack. It seemed so lost in there,
so tiny and light. That would change soon enough.

"There goes the neighborhood," he murmured, still hearing Steve's gleeful
banter echoing in the distance.

Hoggle concurred. "Why do all the weirdoes have to come HERE?"

*******************************************

3

Hours later, the sack on Jareth's back grown half full and heavy with the
stiffs of Round Robins, the two continued through the forest. The afternoon
sun burned high overhead, filtering down through the tree cover enough to
make them both sweaty and uncomfortable. Hoggle held his nose at one point,
breathing heavily.

"We're getting' close to the Bog," he gasped.

Jareth's aquiline schnozz thrust upwards and sniffed. He smelled nothing at
all. Maybe the faintest tinge of dirty socks, but that was nothing out of
the ordinary for him. "We should rest soon," he said. "I think I see a
clearing up ahead."

Indeed, it was a clearing. They dropped their gear beside a serene,
stagnant pool of fetid water. Hoggle unzipped his trousers and breathed a
sigh as he added his own filth to the murky pool. Not to be outdone, Jareth
followed suit, hitching his tights down around his knees. In the tradition
of males everywhere across the universe - human, dwarf, or fairy - each
ignored the other's penile protuberances in a most masculine and
indifferent fashion. 'Thou Shalt Not Peek Whilst At The Urinal' was the
order of the day.

Poor Hoggle stepped back as warm golden liquid splashed his boots.

Jareth peered over, tossing out the order of the day, and smirked. "Sorry
about that, stubby."

Hoggle grimaced. As if a bird's-eye view of the package wasn't bad enough.
"Must've been a cold breeze," he muttered.

Tremont the Manly Hammer twitched, wishing suddenly for a nice, warm, moist
fur coat to snuggle into.

Once everything was back in its place, Jareth sat and kicked the sack with
his toe. "So how many is that, Hobnob?"

Hoggle picked up the sack and dumped it out on the ground. Some kicked
their stumpy legs weakly, still trying to race about in their urgent need
to go nowhere. Others lay unmoving and cold as stone. Defunct. These were
the good ones.

"Looks like about 40, Yer Majesty."

Jareth nodded. That sounded about right for only one afternoon.

Sudden movement caught his attention, and he jerked his head up to where a
fairy floated calmly above the fountain, covering her dainty mouth and
giggling playfully at the resting companions. No doubt she'd been spying on
them as they relieved themselves.

"Of course I wouldn't have brought my Off," Jareth sighed, pointing at the
flying nuisance. "Take care of that, won't you Homey? Do something before
she bites."

Hoggle took his shoes off and stood up. The dreamy little thing was just
about to meet the soles of Hoggle's shoes in stereo when a loud protest
issued from beyond.

"WAIT!"

Hoggle sighed. Not this guy again!

Steve circled around as Hoggle drew away. He picked up a stick to hold the
fairy off, and distracted her while his other hand shot in and grabbed her.

"Oh my GOODness, look at this!" he whispered softly, peering down at the
fairy's sweet angelic face. "She's a BEAUTY! An absolutely INCREDible
example of wildlife indigenous to these parts. Fairies also exist in San
Francisco and Los Angeles, but what we've got here is a PERfect specimen of
a species native to the LAByrINTH!" He turned her on her back, eliciting a
tiny airy squeak as she flapped her wings madly in his grip. "Note the
simple attire. FABulous! And her WINGS..." he traced the thin veins and
papery softness of her wings. "ExQUISite! And a lot of people don't know
this, but all that glitter around here, covering the ROCKS and TREES and
floating in the AIR so that it's in EVERYthing you EAT and DRINK and TOUCH
- the SAME glitter that adds so much BEAUty and MYSTicism and roMANCE to
this MAGical PARAdise - is actually the EXCREMENT (that's right! the WASTE
product!) of this species of fairy! Isn't that inCREDible?"

Jareth's jaw dropped. Hoggle scrunched his nose involuntarily and turned
green.

"Hoggle..." Jareth began.

"I'll send out the Cleaners as soon as we get back to the castle, Sire."

"And hire an assistant to help with the fumigation. If I ever see another
speck of glitter, I will toss my royal cookies."

"If you look here...OW!" Steve jerked away, shaking his finger in pain.
"Ooo! She didn't like me looking at her little girly bits!"

Jareth snorted. Hoggle pulled out the duster, ready to drown the little
thing in a noxious cloud of stinking poison. Steve tsked.

"It looks to me," he said knowingly, "this species of fairy is about to
become enDANgered! I'm going to do the humane thing and WHISK her away to
the wildlife preserve! We ALL have to prepare for posTERity! All we need to
do NOW is find a MALE fairy and we're in business!"

Hoggle opened his mouth to speak. Jareth glared at the stumpy dwarf and
dared him to say anything.

As everyone knows, male fairies are much larger than their female
counterparts, nearly life size and without the cumbersome wings. As fairies
go, they are truly exquisite and exceptional creatures-

Jareth grinned and nodded his agreement. "Aren't we, though?"

We didn't mean you, bottom boy!

Annette chuckled. "Oooh! They told you, didn't they?"

"You shut up! No one asked you!"

But back to the story...

It would probably have come as a great surprise to Steve to learn that our
king and his retriever had spotted a most...passionate Terri cornering one
particularly magnificent specimen of male fairy in a bush less than an hour
ago.

***

Hoggle sniffed, gagging on the thick fetid air. "We're heeeeeere!"

They had come to the Bog. They had come directly to the Bog. They had not
passed GO, they had not collected-

"STOP THAT!" Jareth squeaked. "This is not a GAME!"

Maed and Kitty rolled the dice ("snake eyes!") and kept on playing.

Jareth crossed his arms, vexed. "You two think you're really funny, don't you?"

Maed threw down a card. "Hey Kitty...you got any...QUEENS?"

Kitty shook her head. "Go fish."

Maed snickered. "Been there, done her."

BWAHAHAHAHA!

Hoggle rolled his eyes and Jareth shook his head sadly. "I have no power
over them, Hockeypuck! I just don't know what could have happened! To
think, they used to be two of my favorites! And then they took up with that
forty-year-old musician who could put his legs behind his head..." He
sighed, beaten. "I have talents too, I'll have you know!"

Maed pulled out a very small accordion and began playing on it softly.

Kitty giggled. "Hear that? It's playing 'My Heart Bleeds for You'!"

Jareth grew red in the face and stamped his foot in a most unkingly
fashion. "All I wanted was to be back in the castle! I never asked for more
than a nice cup of tea and a good book to read on the throne! Was that so
much to ask? Was it? But NO! You two had to come back and write this...this
DOGGEREL! And what's worse, you had to write me into it! Why couldn't you
have left me alone? Why? WHY???"

Kitty pulled out a pencil. "Maed, how about if we write him some horrible
malady? We could give him...WARTS!"

Maed nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, let's!"

Jareth shielded his crotch lovingly. "You wouldn't dare!"

Poor Tremont shrunk back like a turtle retreating into its shell.

"I don't know, Pookie," Maed said, reconsidering. "I've seen pictures. A
bad case is just heartbreaking. One poor guy actually needed surgery!"

Hoggle took this opportunity to interject. "Excuse me...can we just get on
with the story?"

"Yes," all agreed. "Perhaps we should."

And then they all looked around.

***

Above them, sitting perched high up in the crotch of a glittering mimosa,
Spike watched the whole exchange with disgusted curiosity. Of course, in a
perfect world, Spike should have been bursting into flames and screaming
"MY HAIR! MY HAIR!" as the rolling heat overtook him. But this was the
Labyrinth, and not subject to the normal rules.

Spike shook his head. What was that towheaded girly-man yammering on about?

With a satisfied smirk, he pulled the Jareth and Sarah dolls from his
trenchcoat pocket. He'd found them on sale at the K-Mart on clearance, next
to the "Dress-n-Drag Jareth" and a rather beat-up game of "Oubliettes and
Ladders," and knew then that he simply had to have them.

"So what do you have to say to this lovely creature, Mr. High and Mighty
Goblin King?" he asked, waving the dolls around.

"'Oh Sarah," he intoned, his voice a manly bass, "won't you come back to my
castle and live with me forever and be my love and wash my socks and keep
me in full with that nancy-boy hair gel I like SO much!'"

"'Oh Jareth,'" Sarah/Spike replied in a sickening falsetto, "First dance
with me!"

He twirled the dolls around a few times, growing a little dizzy himself.
The Sarah doll slipped out of his hand and he caught it quickly, saving it
from a nasty tumble to the ground below.

"Oh," he piped, "How can I ever thank you for rescuing me, you tights-clad
hunk of a fairy you?"

"No thanks necessary, my lady," the Jareth doll boomed. "Your words of
gratitude are enough for me! That, and a little feel of what you've got
under there..."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You cad! You beast!"

"You want it. You know you want it," he whispered. Spike wiped a few beads
of sweat from his lip. His hands were trembling slightly.

"Get away from me! Leave me alone! No...please...no!"

Spike grunted and reluctantly tucked the Sarah doll back into his pocket.
He lingered a moment longer with Jareth, surveying the jeweled velvet and
clingy storm-gray tights.

"Your eyes don't match, you obviously stuff those tights with kielbasa, and
you dance around a bunch of goblins singing fairy songs like some perfumed
lolly! What have you got that I haven't got? I'm blonde! I'm pretty! I
don't HAVE to wear a wig, and well...I sing! I could have been you!" he
argued weakly, tears springing to his eyes. "I could have been you...and
lived in the sun...with Buffy- I mean, Sarah! She'd look so good as a blonde..."

*************************************

 
4

Terri had lost sight of Steve hours ago, and hadn't quite been successful
in capturing that lovely male fairiy she'd been pursuing. Bloomin'
fairy...he was in, out, and done. Never thought of HER at all. Just like a man.

Oh, yes, she found him all right...but would he call her tomorrow?

She took the carrier off and set it carefully on the ground. Bindy Sue's
chin was shiny with drool and her chubby fists opened and closed around
invisible floaties in the air.

Steve was off to parts unknown having the time of his life examining and
discovering new specimens while she wandered around aimlessly in this
PLACE. What did she have to show for her time here, besides a heat rash and
a few well-concealed hickies?

"EEEE! EEE!"

She looked over in the direction of the gentle squealing. Sitting atop a
rock seemingly minding its own business, a bit of moss twitched and snaked,
its many green-brown tendrils waving frantically. It was a wholly
unremarkable bit of moss, except for this movement and the strangely human
eyeballs perched at the end of its stalks.

The stalks gestured emphatically beyond her, squealing at the top of their
little lungs.

"What is it, little guys?" she asked, unintentionally slipping into her
mommy voice.

They pointed, waved, their little vines and eyes blinking and twitching
like crazy.

How odd, she thought. But still, they're such lovely specimens! The plant
life here is so extraordinary, truly unlike anything she'd ever seen in all
her travels. She decided that she would take some back and show Steve.

The eye moss screeched a dying wail as she pinched several of their stalks
off at the base.

"Now," she sighed, placing the limp stalks carefully in her bag, "come on,
Bindy Sue. Let's find Daddy and get the hell out of he-"

But Bindy Sue was gone. Her carrier had been ripped to shreds while all
around it small footprints dented the dust in a twisted, scurrying pattern.
It looked like one of those old teach-yourself-to-cha-cha diagrams.

"Bindy Sue!" she yelled, panic rising in her throat.

Nothing. Not a cry, not a whimper. From a little ways off, further into the
forest, she heard a shrill, maniacal giggling. One screechy voice cut
through the rest, proclaiming triumphantly:

"WE GOT HIM! WE GOT TOBY BACK!"

***

The Bog was teeming with Round Robins. They proliferated like ticks,
crawling around on their short little legs to seek out new life and new
civilizations. To shamefully go where no fanfic cared to go before...

"Shatner!" Jareth roared.

Will Shatner put the bullhorn down and trudged guiltily out from behind the
shell of a long-dead tree. He stuck his middle finger up at Jareth.

"Priceline rules!" he shouted, and jogged away, his toupee flapping in the
breeze.

"Yeah? Well...TekWar sucked!" Hoggle yelled, getting in the last dig.

"Will you two PLEASE stop it with the cameos? That really was too much!"

Kitty caught her breath from laughing and ran off for a change of
underwear. Maed continued to type in spite of the racking gales of laughter.

As we were saying...

The hideous little beasts clung to the stone wall like beetles to a screen
door, their frantic calls filling the noxious air.

"TRIPE! RUBBISH! REFUSE! WASTE! GARBAGE! SCRAPS! TRASH! DREGS! FILTH!
LITTER! DEBRIS! DROSS! ODDMENTS! SWEEPINGS! RUBBLE! STUFF AND NONSENSE!
FRIPPERY! RAGS! SCOURINGS! FRAGMENTS! PIECES! SHAVINGS! LOPPINGS! SLASH!
BREAKINGS! SLAG! LEAVINGS! PARINGS! RINSINGS! DEADS! RESIDUE! OFFAL!
SEDIMENT! DROPPINGS!"

[Kitty put the thesaurus back on the shelf and took a deep and sweeping
bowel...er, bow, fanning the air as she arose. Maed picked something up and
offered it to her. "Um...Kitty? Is this your gall bladder?"]

The Round Robins had yet to notice the presence of the king and his
entourage. They were too busy playing in the muck, wallowing in the
wastewater wike wittle wetched wugwumps. They wolled westwesswy in the
waves of wefuse...

"Stop that wight now!" Jareth commanded.

Sowwy, Jaweth.

They rolled restlessly in the waves of refuse, happy as pigs in warm pools
of their own feces.

Hoggle watched the feathery creatures frolicking on the shore, and had the
overwhelming urge to strip off his rags and join them. They looked like
they were having such a grand time, just playing and rolling and cavorting
on the slimy shore like a bunch of nude sunbathers.

Nipple Chorus: NUDE?

Tremont: NUDE? Oh Annette, WHERE ARE YOU???

"Enough!"

Hoggle took a step toward the gurgling pool of ick. Jareth clamped a gloved
hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Don't do it!" he warned.

Hoggle shook his head, the mist lifting from his eyes.

"They live here, play here, breed here..."

"They die here too! The Bog is really made of...dead Round Robins! So
THAT'S why this place smells so bad!" Hoggle said, the light bulb above his
head illuminating briefly before flickering out again.

"And if you join them," Jareth informed him, "your writing will stink for
the rest of your life."

Hoggle shuddered. What a horrible fate!

Jareth swatted at something flying near his head, buzzing his ear
insistently. A moment later it stopped pestering him and moved on to one of
the Round Robins lying on a sunsoaked stone, rotund belly up, catching tan.
Strangely enough, it didn't seem to annoy the disgusting creature; instead,
the insect did a strange dance on its belly before buzzing drunkenly away.

"What was that?" Jareth asked, thoroughly confused.

Without warning, Steve bounded once more onto the scene, his face shining
like a child's at his own birthday party.

"NEWBEES!" He exclaimed, and swiped one up in his palm, grimacing as the
annoying little creature stung him repeatedly. "This is a Newbee, one of
the Labyrinth's most notorious and reviled species. Its sting - OW! -Much
like the remora and the shark, the Newbee latches itself on to the Round
Robin and follows it EVERYwhere, often taking control and steering it in
directions it should never, EVER go! But aside from taking control of the
Round Robin's sense of direction, the Newbee also aids the Round Robin in
reproduction. It's truly aMAZing to see such creatures as these reproducing
by pollinATION! Though the relationship between Newbees and Round Robins is
a symbiotic one, the combination of these two complex creatures yields a
crude and loathsome parasite! They stick like ticks and breed like roaches!"

"Newbees," Jareth agreed thoughtfully. "There's been a recent plague of
them. Tell me, Steve: What can we do to rid the Labyrinth of these creatures?"

Steve shook his head. "Well Jarry, it's never a good idea to drive a
species to extinction. Newbees are necessary for the growth and survival of
the ecosystem. Many theorists believe that some of the oldest and most
respected creatures in this world evolved from Newbees!"

"No!" Jareth and Hoggle echoed, aghast.

"Yes indeedy!" Steve chirped. "Once upon a time, you were Newbees too!"

Maed and Kitty tittered like a couple of goblins. Jareth prepared, yea
verily, to smite the Crocodile Humper.

"And anyway, you can't kill them," Steve announced.

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Whyever not?"

"Newbees are an inCREDibly HARDy stock! They're naturally resistant to
natural disasters, famine, pestilence, plague, and flamethrowers! It's even
been speculated that there's something about flames that make them breed
faster! It's nature's way, I suppose. Fear of extinction breeds...breeding!

"Well," he said, releasing the Newbee back into the wild, "I'd best be
getting on me way. Still got a lot of ground to cover before dark, and
Terri and little Bindy Sue are still out there. Until next time!" He raised
his hand in farewell and disappeared into the trees.

"Well, Hotlips," Jareth addressed his sidekick grimly. "Newbees may be
flame-retarded-"

"That's retardant, Yer Majesty."

"Of course it is!" he snapped. "Now." Jareth's eyes held a horrid yellow
gleam. He removed the flamethrower from Hoggle's pack.

"We knew you were a flaming tights-boy!" Maed and Kitty cheered.

"Quiet, wenches!" Jareth took aim at the heart of the Bog, where hundreds
of Round Robins played peacefully in the muck.

Hoggle ducked.

"Kitty?" Maed asked, her tone grown considerably less confident.

Kitty said nothing. She grabbed Maed's hand and took off towards the castle
with computer in tow (remembering to save first, of course) just as Jareth
pulled the trigger.

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