Avatart - A Highlandish story by Joanne Madge (j0lander@juno.com) --------------------------------------------- ***SPOILER ALERT!*** ***SPOILER ALERT!*** ***SPOILER ALERT!*** If you have not seen the season five episode, AVATAR and do not want it spoiled, stop reading now! This is #2 out of three parodies I'm writing based on the AAArg arch. The first, LARKANGEL, is archived at Ann Fountain's wonderful website: http://www.seventh-dimension.simplenet.com/. S P O I L E R S ! ! ! ! DISCLAIMER: Highlander and its characters belong to Rysher. No infringement intended, no profit being made. This is a work of parody. -------------------------------------------- Okay, folks, listen up! Joe Duhson here. Now as you may remember when we last left Dunkin' MacClod, he was stumbling blindly out into the night drowning in guilt and grief over beheading his best friend, student, and all around sidekick Itchie Lyin'. Well, now we've got a problem. How do we continue our story about the bold, brave hero when we've just reduced him to mental and emotional silly putty? Convinced he is insane and a murderer of his own protege, not caring if he lives or dies. Bah! What are we supposed to do, write thirteen more stories where Mac rocks back and forth, humming nonsensical nursery rhymes to himself, cradling a crumpled leather glove? Huh?!? Well, never fear fans, we have come up with the ultimate solution to this dilemma. We have devised Three Little Words that will fix everything: --------------- ONE YEAR LATER! --------------- Now.... isn't that better? Geez, you're a picky bunch. Well tough, this is how it's going to be. It's one year later, and MacClod has been holed up the entire time on holy ground. Got that? Okay, and he's been spending this time doing all sorts of New Age, holy-type stuff, right? And as a result of all this mental masterb.... uh, meditation, he's become really focused and healed and junk. See? Even now he is doing one of his famous shirtless katas just for you! He's practicing the ancient form of Ast'hma meditation, known only to a select few. Hear how he groans and wheezes? This shows how CENTERED he is, how totally at peace with the universe! What do you mean, you don't *like* it?!? This is deep stuff, you cretins! Well, anyway, here is where our story beings. It's one year later and Mac is healed and calm and ready to kick serious demon butt. Got it? Oh, and forget who just told you all this, because I'm not supposed to know anything about it in the next scene. ### It was a beautiful, sunny day and Joe Duhson was in a dark and gloomy mood. He stood sadly before the one-year-old grave of Itchie Lyin', deep in thought. "I just don't know, Itch. The whole thing is crazy." He paused, overcome for the moment. The grave waited patiently for him to continue. "I mean...." Joe leaned on his cane and stared off into the distance. "Where did Mac go? Why did he do this thing? And just how many roads must a man walk down before we call him a cab? Er, man?" The grave did not comment. "I tell ya, buddy. I just wish I could tell you what's going on in this crazy world." A deep baritone voice boomed behind him. "JOE!" "AAAGHHH!" Duhson lunged away from the grave. MacClod helped him back to his feet. "Sorry." He brushed Joe off then slapped him heartily on the back. "So how the heck are ya?" He beamed happily from behind his cute little Lennon shades. Joe glared at him. "Well, look who decided to come back!" Mac's smile faded a bit. "What? What did I do?" Joe looked down at the grave, then back at Mac. "Oh." Mac shifted from foot to foot. "Well.... uh, hey Joe, nice gravestone!" He grinned hopefully. Joe continued to glare. Mac gazed back at him serenely if a bit blankly. Time passed. Birds chirped. Finally Mac cleared his throat. "Er.... who's Itchie?" For the next half hour, Joe helped refresh Mac's slightly bleached memory and made a few snide comments on his even more bleached wardrobe. Finally he finished with, "So where the hell have you been all this time?" Mac straightened, his voice ringing with conviction. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Joe. And I've come to a few conclusions: ONE - none of this was my fault, TWO - demons are hard to kill, and THREE - long hair and tight, black outfits are passe'!" Joe smirked. "Yeah well, ONE - the hell it wasn't, TWO - no duh, and THREE - you look like you forgot to get dressed when you woke up this morning!" Mac just shook his head, refusing to be ruffled. "Anger has no place in the world, Joe. Let it go! I was a weapon! Stop and smell the roses! Please recycle!" "Gack!" Joe turned to leave. Mac grabbed him by the sleeve. "Sing with me, Joe! Allll we are sayyyying...." Joe wrenched himself free. "You *disgust* me, MacClod! Don't ever speak to me again!" He turned his back and started down the hill. Mac called after him. "Meet you in the pub in an hour?" Joe called back. "Aw, I can't stay mad at you! Sure, c'mon over! No, better yet I'll come and see you!" Sure enough, Duhson stopped by the barge later that morning and even brought Mac a nice "welcome home" gift: A genuine, Zoroastrian pretzel bowl! "Everyone who ate from it was getting spaced-out anyway," Joe explained. "Thought it might come in handy for you." ### Meanwhile, two young English ladies whom we've never seen before (get used to it) had a conversation that had no bearing on the plot. Afterwards, the prettier of the two (naturally) said her good-byes and was about to walk away when a man with glowing red eyes offered her some roses. All of the roses were white except one, which was incredibly, deeply, symbolically RED. Guess which one she took. So, anyway, immediately upon touching the Symbolic Rose of Evil, she got a strange, far away look in her eyes and wandered off to a nearby bridge and - whooptie-do - jumped symbolically off of it. (We wish to point out that pure, sweet, virginal English girls have no business hanging around in a swinging city like Paris and deserve to be sacrificed to the first ancient demigod that crosses paths with them). ### Joe drew a fresh pint of his best stuff and offered it to MacClod with a flourish. "No thanks, Joe," Mac demurred with a gentle smile. "I'm not allowed to touch booze right now." Joe shrugged and took a swig for himself. "Why not?" Mac folded his hands and frowned a bit. "Well, it wouldn't be.... I mean, I'm supposed to be sort-of.... Like, pure." Joe made a face. "Or something like that." Mac smiled again. "Got rid of all my furniture, too!" Joe smiled sympathetically. "Reminded you too much of all the good times with Itchie?" "Well.... no." "Oh. Too much distraction from you newfound puritanical lifestyle?" "Noooo...." Mac shook his head. "Had to sell it. We're on a killer budget this year, you know. Can't even afford our regulars for most of the season. Hell, can't even afford half of the season this season! You'll be flying back to the States next week. Coach." Joe sighed. "Bummer." ### On his way home, Mac was crossing a certain aforementioned bridge when he heard a woman's voice calling for help. Seeing the source of the voice drowning in the river, he dove in an hauled her out. "Wow!" she sputtered as she dripped all over MacClod's ruined, white jammies. "This is really something!" Mac smiled kindly. "You mean the way I heroically saved you?" "No.... the way we're already half-way though this story and no one has any idea what it's *about* yet!" "Oh!" Mac pondered for a moment, rubbing his chin. "Then I guess we'd better establish some sort of plot point, huh?" She nodded, shaking some rather nasty-smelling Seine water from her hair. "Good idea. Name's Stuffie" Mac shook her hand. "Dunkin' MacClod. What do you do? Besides try to kill yourself, I mean." "I'm a student." Mac frowned. "Hmm, not terribly much to build a story on, is it?" "Oh." She thought a moment, then grinned. "I'm also the only Zoroastrian expert in Paris!" "GREAT!" Mac clapped his hands. "Boy, imagine if you hadn't jumped into that river. I mean, a mousey little student in a big city like this.... I never would have found you in a million years!" "Hey, that's super!" Mac frowned, looking concerned. "But why did you jump off the bridge?" She looked at him strangely. "I can't seem to remember. There was a man selling these bleeding roses...." Mac shook his head. "Such language. So anyway, how does one destroy a Zoroastrian demon?" "Oh...." she shrugged. "I have no earthly idea. I guess you just do." Mac stared at her. "Uhhhh, great. Soooo glad I met you. Need a dime to catch the Metro home, or are you planning to walk?" ### Meanwhile, Horrorton.... er, that is 'Arryman decided to pay a little visit on Joe. "So," he sneered as he magically appeared in the bar. "Did you miss me, cousin?" Joe gasped. "Horrorton! But it can't be!" Horrorton just grinned. "Oh, but it can, dear Joseph." Joe just shook his head. "I'll be damned. MacClod was right!" "Er...." Horrorton blinked. "You mean, you didn't believe him? About the demon?" "Not until now." Horrorton sputtered. "But - but you and he were.... I mean.... DAMN!" "Tough break, pal." "No, wait!" Horrorton grinned wickedly. "Before I go, I should show you what happens to people who *help* MacClod!" He waved his hands in the air and an image appeared before Joe. Two Watchers were wandering though 'Arryman's cave, looking for clues to help Mac defeat the demon. Within a few moments the two screamed, their hands flying up to cover their faces. The picture faded. "Bastard!" Joe yelled. "They were nice people! You could have at least given the audience a little more time to actually start *caring* about what would happen to them!" Horrorton laughed. "Well, they care about *you*, Joseph, and if you continue to help MacClod, you'll be next!" They glared at each other in mutual hate. "Hey," Horrorton said. "This is pretty good. We've actually got some conflict started here. Threat, fear, a choice to be made...." Joe chuckled. "Say, we do, don't we? Too bad I'm not the main character of the story." ### Across town, the main character of the story was sitting on his duff on the deck of the barge, holding the pretzel bowl Joe had given him earlier. He began to rub one index finger along the edge until a strangely beautiful tone rose into the air.... You may want to skip the rest of this scene. Suddenly, he found himself standing alone in a large, cavernous room. He looked around in confusion. Then he saw.... No, really. Why don't you skip on to the next part. It's really good, honest! He saw.... Say, you feel like a snack? Tell ya what, you go on to the fridge and I'll just skip to the next scene, okay? Ah, hell.... Okay, *fine*. He saw a DWARF, okay?! A dwarf playing with a silly plastic ball. Look it's all been explained. The French censors didn't want a child to portray a demon so they hired some vertically challenged, 40-something-year-old schmuck to play with a ball *like* a child! It's SYMBOLIC I tell you! Everything in this episode that sucks merely *symbolizes* something that doesn't suck, get it? So if you don't like it then YOU JUST DON'T HAVE ENOUGH IMAGINATION!!!!! Anyway, the dwarf danced like an idiot before MacClod, tossing the ball around and screaming, "Itchie keeeler, Itchie keeeler!" The Itchie-ball (*don't* go there) changed color from time to time which symbolized.... Uh, it symbolized.... Well, Itchie was a colorful guy, right? Mac watched the dwarf for about ten seconds, drew his katana and cleaved him cleanly in two. (Sorry, someone had to write it)! As soon as the dwarf was gone, Kroneold appeared (thank God) and began fighting MacClod. Unfortunately, this did not have time to develop *either* and next thing he knew, Mac was standing alone, surrounded by the voices from the past all shouting his name. ### "Mac, wake up!" Joe smacked Mac on the head with his cane for the fourteenth time. "Ow!" Mac's opened his eyes and rubbed his head. "What you do that for?" Joe grinned. "How long have you got? Anyway, I wanted to tell you about Horrorton!" Mac jumped to his feet. "You mean...?" Joe nodded. "Yeah. I saw him. Twice. I believe you now. He tried to tempt me to quit helping you by offering me legs. I turned him down, of course." Mac smiled warmly at his old friend. "He tried to tempt me with old season one clips of Itchie and Testa. I turned him down, too" "Of course," Joe repeated, nodding. Mac shrugged. "He didn't even include a blooper reel in the offer!" They stood together, two people alone against untold forces of evil. United in their noble cause. "Well, anyway," Joe continued. "Just wanted to let you know the Watchers aren't going to help you anymore." Mac's shoulders sagged. "But I'll still hang around with ya, buddy!" Joe finished. Mac perked up a bit, in spite of the fact that the *last* person to say that to him was pushing up daisies. ### Well, time passed and Mac encountered both the mousey student and the demon on several more occasions. The girl was no help to him and the demon couldn't seem to hurt him, either. Finally, out of desperation to end the story, 'Arryman confronted the poor girl. "Listen to me, Stuffie, if you don't jump of the bridge and kill yourself...." "But I already did!" she interrupted. "Oh.... that's right. I forgot." He pondered for a moment. "Well too bad! If you don't jump of the bridge *again!* I'll.... I'll...." He paused, scratching his head. Suddenly, Stuffie's brother ran up to her and said something in a thick English accent completely unlike her lighter, more posh one.... and to be honest, I didn't understand a word of it. "That's it!" The demon chortled. "I'll make your brother into a juvenile delinquent!" Stuffie looked confused. "But he already is." "Then I'll make him into a WORSE one!" 'Arryman stomped his foot in frustration. "Damn these censors! It would be so much more dramatic if I could just fry you both like I did those Watchers" "No, oh no, please don't do that!" She burst into tears and climbed up on the bridge. She leaned forward and.... "Stuffie, WAIT!" MacClod ran up to her, arriving just in the nick of time. A phone rang. Stuffie reached into her jacket and pulled out her portable. "Hello? Yes? WHAT?! I see." She disconnected and tossed the phone off the bridge. "That was the USA network." "Yes?" asked Mac and 'Arryman. They glared in annoyance at each other. "What did they say?" Mac finished. Her eyes welled up with fresh tears. "They...." her lower lip quivered. "They don't want me as their spin-off F'Immie!" Mac shrugged, confused. "You were never in the running. The first candidate won't appear for another two weeks yet! Then the week after that, then another one a few months after that, then...." He suddenly realized he was talking to air. She had jumped. Again. He ran to the railing, but she had evidently dissolved.... which beautifully symbolizes viewer satisfaction with this whole, stupid season so far! Horrorton laughed maniacally and vanished. Stuffie's brother turned to MacClod and screamed, "I hate you, I hate you, I'm going to go rob a bank!" and ran off. Mac just shook his head and came to the conclusion that he simply had *no* luck with teenagers. End! (Well, until Mac's final non-showdown with 'Arryman. But that's another story).