The story so far: Lan, Mat, Perrin, Rand and Thom have joined up with the F-Team, a band of mercenary Forsaken hired by Nynaeve, for a serious drinking session at the "King's Kidney" tavern. Moraine is still teaching the *finns about the magic of song and dance, and the Dark One himself has rejected Nyneave's soul, her payment for the services of the F-Team. After all, he's dark, but not that dark...

The wheel of time turns, and the ages come and go. The present turns to legend, legend fades to myth, and myth is long forgotten by the time it comes around again. A wind sprung up in the mountains of Kinslayers dagger, blowing south and rattling the faded wooden sign of the "King's Kidney" Tavern. When no-one payed it any attention, it rattled it a bit harder, until a young man in a wide brimmed hat and fox medallion stuck his head out the door and shouted "sod off!" It was not the beginning, for there are no beginnings to the wheel, but it was a beginning....

Authors note: Actually, there is a beginning to the wheel. It is written in The lost book of Cecil : "And the Creator did decided to make the Wheel, he said "Let there be Wheel" and there was a Wheel, and so happy he was with his own cleverness, he did dance a jig and dropped the Wheel, breaking it. And the Creator did say "Bugger it!" and did call forth the holy glue** and did fix the Wheel, so that only a teeny weeny little crack could be seen".....

**(Sticky Steve's "EternoStick" - the choice of the discerning deity.)

Where was I? Oh yeah....

Rand: (to Mat, who was looking out into the street through the door) Mat, close that (BLEEP)ing door! It's cold out there!
Mat: Sorry Rand. Hey, that wind is back. Y'know, that "beginning" wind that turns up every new book.
Rand: Well, it can just blow off, cause I ain't available for Path of Daggers till Autumn!
Mat: (snigger) You said "blow off"!!
Rand: (mutters under his breath) It's gonna be that kind of episode, is it?
Thom: Barman! Barman! Ten flagons of "Curious Colin's Colonic Cleaning Kit", if you please.

[Perrin whispers to Thom]

Thom: ... and a packet of grolm-and-onion flavoured potato chips as well.

[Mr D whispers to Thom, ie the whole tavern hears it]

Thom: .... and a snickers bar.

[Selene whispers to Thom, whose cheeks flush red]

Thom: .... and a packet of... (looks to Selene who nods)... a packet of salted nuts.
Mat: (snicker) (snicker) (snicker) Hey Selene... if you wanted salty nuts....
Rand: MAT! Don't even think about it. (he looks at Perrin, who is busy with large cardboard squares, and a set of crayons) Perrin, what ARE you doing?

Perrin: Well Rand, sooner or later, with this many guys getting drunk in a bar, there's gonna be a brawl, right?
Rand: I guess so....
Perrin: Well, I thought I'd write out some fight noises on these cards, you know, like in the old sixties Batman series, to save Darkhound having to do it.
Rand: Good idea, Perrin! What you got so far?
Perrin: Well, I've got "Thwack!", "Kerrunch!", "Boom!", "Smack!", "Thud!", "Kerrrack!", "Bosh!" and "Twat!"
Lan: Perrin, you can't use "Twat!". It's.... it's just not proper.
Perrin: Well, what then?
Mat: "Plonk!" ?
Lan: Nah.
Rand: "Clod!" ?
Lan: Nope.
Thom: "Thwang!" ?
Lan: No, don't think so. Sounds like the noise an elastic band would make....

[authors note: You have just experienced foreshadowing. Don't be alarmed...]

Selene: "Thong!" ?
Lan: (reddens) No, thank you Selene.
Selene: "Dong!" then, or "Flap!" or "Slap!" or "Grunt!" or "Ooooh!" or "Aaaaah!" or ....
Face: Hey baby, I think they get the idea....
Lan: Yes, (gulp) thanks Selene, but there not really suitable.
Barman: If I may make a suggestion, sir?
Lan: Go on.
Barman: Well, how about "Plap!"
Lan: I like it! "Plap!" Yes, good one. Well done, my man.
Barman: Well sir, I can't take the credit, not really. See, Darkhound invented the word, and wanted to use it in a story, and I didn't have many lines in this episode, so he said I could contribute with "Plap!"
Lan: Yes well.... Well done, anyway.

Meanwhile.....

Flicker, Flicker, Flicker, Flicker, Plop (there's always one, isn't there?)

Faile: Nynaeve, where are we?
Nynaeve: London, England. Victorian London, to be precise. Ah here it is. Baker Street! (sniff)
Faile: What are we doing here?
Nynaeve: Looking for a man who help us track down Lan. (tug)
Faile: A man? Help us? Ha!
Nynaeve: I know, I know. (sniff) But this one really can help us. He's the greatest detective that ever was created. (sniff) ( tug )

[They stopped before a door, and entered. Inside were two well dressed gentleman, smoking pipes, looking at pocket watches, and doing other old gentlemanly things.]

Sherlock: Aaah. You two beautiful ladies must be Nynaeve and Faile.
Faile: You trying to be funny?
Dr Watson: Amazing, Holmes! How on earth did you know that?
Sherlock: (sighs) They had an appointment, Watson.
Dr Watson: Amazing thing!
Nynaeve: Look, we want to hire you.
Sherlock: I'm high enough as it is, thankyou.
Nynaeve: (sniff) No, "hire" not "higher", as in employ you, as in rent your services. (sniff)
Sherlock: Aaah, I see.
Dr Watson: Amazing, Holmes!
Sherlock: Shut up Watson. Now then ladies, what can I do for you?
Nynaeve: We wish you to track down a Malkeiri warder by the name of Lan. I have reason to believe he might be..... having fun. (tug) (tug) (tug) (tug)
Faile: (gasp) Don't say those words, Nynaeve! Why, when I think my Perrin might be having "fun" also.... (sniff)
Sherlock: You want me to find him and bring his fun to an end?
Nynave: No, that's my job. (sniff) You just need to find him. (tug)
Sherlock: Simple. They're at a tavern called the "King's Kidney", in Caemlyn. Having a bar-brawl, actually.
Faile and Nynaeve: Fighting! Why we oughta.... (sniff)
Dr Watson: Unbelievable, Holmes! How could you have known!
Sherlock: Elementary, my dear Watson. I scrolled down to then end of this post, and had a look.
Dr Watson: Holmes, you're a genius! (pause) And I find you strangely attractive.
Nynaeve: (sniff) Come on Faile! We've got them now! (tug)

[The ladies depart hurredly, leaving Holmes and Watson alone]

Sherlock: Well, typical! I didn't even get paid. (looks at Watson) So, you find me attractive, Watson?
Dr Watson: Incredible, Holmes! How could.....
Shelock: (bored tone) You just told me, Watson. (stands up, and makes his way to the bed chamber) I'll be in here, Watson, bending over. Come and do something interesting with a piece of citrus fruit.
Dr Watson: What do you mean, Holmes?
Holmes: Lemon-entry, my dear Watson.

Meanwhile, back at the King's Kidney.

[Just then, on the stage in the corner where Thom had performed, a group of pale, emaciated, teenaged boys with long greasy black-died hair, and various interesting piercings began their sound check...]

Thom: Dear spirits, what in the light are they?
Barman: Ah, my nephew William, sir. He and his friends have formed a band, and I said they could do a gig here. (lowers his tone) They're Guths, you know.
William: (from the stage, in an oscillating voice) That's "Goth's", uncle. As in Gothic Rock....
Lan: Gothic Rock? Isn't that what Shayol Ghul's built on? (laughs)

[The stag party fall about laughing]

Willaim: Yes, very funny. (under his breath) Bloody adults. They just don't understand. Life's sounfair. I don't care. I'm gonna kill myself. (continues reciting from the book "A hundred things you can expect your average adolescent male to say" )
Barman: William, mind your language!
William: Hey, I don't answer to William, man. William's dead, man. My name....is Grim Reaper!
Barman: Alright then, mind your language... Grim.
William: (scowling at his uncle) Okay, let's sound check. One.... One.... One, Two... One, Two.... Two.... T... T.... Two.
Lan: Why do bands do that?
Thom: They can't count any higher. (much laughter)

[There is a nosie that sounds like someone is drawing an accordion through a live-cows intestines. It is the noise that only teenage boys with musical instruments know how to make.]

Lan: Geez! They better not get any worse....
Mr D: (to band) SHUDDUP FOOLS!
Rand: Yep, you'd have to be stark raviing foaming mad to like this.
Howling Mad Aginor: YeYaYeYa woo woo I like it! Sounds great! numinny numinny numinny
William: (ignoring them) Okay, Ladies and gentleman! We are "THE ELASTIC BAND" and this is our new single, "THWANG!"
Thom: Talk about deja-vue....
Lan: I'm sure you've said that before somewhere....
William: [singing, in the loosest sense of the word] THWANG! It's a noise! THWANG! We are boys! THWANG! We've got long hair! THWANG! But we don't care!
Thom: Well, I think my job is safe.
Lan: Definitely. (covers ears with hands)
Wiiliam: THWANG! I've got spots! THWANG! In fact I've lots! THWANG! I don't eat meat! THWANG! I've smelly feet! T-H-W-A-N-G spells THWANG!
Lan: (grimacing) If he doesn't stoppit....
William: THWANG!
Lan: I swear I'm gonna... (rolls up sleeves)
William: THWANG!
Lan: (shouting above the noise) Right you little b@st#rds!

[Lan dives onto the stage, which as anyone who's ever been to a concert will know, is the complete opposite of what you're meant to do. The noise of snapping guitar strings, and crashing symbols nearly drown out the sound of teenagers being soundly thrashed....]

[Over by the bar, Perrin observed the melée. With a grin, he held up a sign. It read "Thwack!"]

Lan: come here you little...
William: AAARRGGHH!
Perrin: (holds up "Thud!")
Barman: William, stop hitting your face against that nice warders fist!
William: I'm.... AAARGGH! ....not.... OUCH! ....William....
Perrin: (holds up "Kerrunch!", "Boom!" and "Smack!")
William: ....my.... OOOF! ....name is..... OW!...... Grim.....(gurgle) .....Reaper!... (BLEEEEEP)
Barman: Language, Grim....
Perrin: (holds up "Thud!", "Kerrrack!" and then after some thought, "Plap!") Darkhound: Cheers, Perrin.
Perrin: Don't mention it.

To be continued...

Raina's Hold / Raina's Library / Other People's Humour / Lan's Stag Party