In episode 1.2 of the continuing Wheel Wars series, our Hero™ has thus far:
* Been introduced

[Ahem...]
A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far, far, far, FAR, far away from anything even remotely resembling the basic principles of reality, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. It just keeps going and going and going and going [The Energizer bunny marches across the screen] and going and going and going and going. (And going) In one part of the galaxy driven by the Wheel, Naboo was under an attack. In the other, Rand al’Thor was awakening from a plot-essential flashback...

Rand: [Leaning against a tree, awakening from a plot-essential flashback.] There’s no place like home...there’s no place like home...
Tam: [Shaking Rand by the shoulders] Rand! Wake up!
Rand: Huh? Wha...? [Looks around the dark forest] Uh-oh, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore...
Tam: [Stares at Rand, perturbed, shakes his head, then slaps him in the face in an attempt the try to bring Rand back to his senses.] Wake up, boy! Trollocs are tearing apart the house looking from Oreo’s and trying to find the remote for the TV and-
Rand: Trollocs??? You must be off yer rocker, pops! Trollocs are only fictional fairy tale characters currently existing in an 8 volume series called "The Wheel of Time" written by a man named Robert Jordan as an extraordinarily complex marketing ploy!
Tam: [Knocks on Rand’s skull] Hellllooooo? Anybody home? We’re livin’ in this extraordinarily complex marketing ploy! People like you - clueless, brainless, and utterly hopeless - were designed to keep the readers glued to the series to see how long it takes you to figure out things like this!
Rand: [Staring cluelessly at Tam] [Mumbling] Nobody ever tells me anything...
Tam: [Shakes his head] Hurry up! Let’s go! We’re runnin’ short on time, here. 
Rand: But my plot-essential flashback was just getting even MORE plot-essential!
Tam: Well can’t you just sum up?
Rand: 2 + 2 = 4
Tam: [Glares threateningly at Pablo] Pablo, get ON with it!
Pablo: THOU SHALT SHUT THY FACE OR ELSE RECIEVETH A GRAND PIANO UPON THY FOREHEAD. TAKETH HEED OF MY ADVICE. [Presses ‘Rewind’]
Director Joe: [Counts down from 3] Aaand...action!
Tam: Well can’t you just sum up?
Rand: Okay - I met a gleeman with diabolical facial hair named Thom (The gleeman’s name was Thom, not the facial hair) and a psychotic Darkfriend peddler named Padan Fain. But you’re not supposed to know the peddler’s a Darkfriend yet.
Tam: Okay, good. We don’t have much time; the actor portraying Narg is running on a tight schedule.
Rand: [Confused] Narg? Who’s Narg??
Tam: You’ll see.
Rand: [Sobbing] Nobody ever tells me anything! And how come I never get to do what *I* want to do? Why does it always have to be YOUR way?!
Tam: BECAUSE I’M YOUR BLOODY FLAMING FATHER SO SHUT UP OR I’LL BREAK YOUR BLOODY NECK!! DON’T ASK SO MANY BLOODY QUESTIONS, BOY!
Rand: [Sobbing hysterically] Da-ad! I hate you! You’re always so mean to me!
Tam: SHUT UP!
Rand: [Screaming with hatred] DAAAD!
Tam: I SAID SHUT UP! DID YOU HEAR ME OR DO I HAVE TO BLEED ACKNOWLEGDMENT OUT OF YOUR BLOODY SKULL??!!
Rand: [Hollering his tears] I-I-I-I-I-I...I HATE YOU!!!
Tam: SHUT THE BLOODY FLAMING LIGHT UP, BOY!
Rand: [Noticing a 3-foot gaping hole in Tam’s chest] Dad, you’re bleeding.
Tam: Oh, it’s just a scratch.
Rand: Uh...I don’t think so...you’re seriously bleedin’ there, dad.
Tam: It’s just a flesh wound, boy!
Rand: No dad, you’re-
Tam: SHUT UP!! IT’A JUST A BLOODY SCRATCH!! IT DOESN’T HURT A BIT!! REALLY!! I’M FINE!!! PERFECTLY FI- [Faints]

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[Half an hour later]
Rand: [Nearly passing out from boredom] [Singing dully] Nobody knows...the Troublei’veseen....Nobody knows...My sorrow....
Nobody: Bloody right about that, kid. I sure do know the Trouble’iveseen. Known ‘im all me life. Great bloke, really. He’s got-
Rand: Shh! Tam’s waking up!
Tam: There’s no place like home....there’s no place like home...
Rand: [Shaking Tam by the shoulders] Tam! Wake up!
Tam: [Eyes flash open and dart around suspiciously] Who are you? Are we enemies? I’ll beat you both apart! I’ll take you both together!
Fezzig: You can’t even move your arms! [Pauses] [Confused] Inigo? Inigo! Inigo, where are you?
Rand: Dad! How many fingers am I holding up?
Tam: [Wrinkles his brow and squints, trying to focus his concentration] [Muttering] Er...let’s see...three divided by...carry the nine...multiply by Pi-r-squared...um...[Counts on his fingers while muttering inaudibly] [Stares at Rand’s fingers again] [Confidently] Three hundred and seventy three.
Rand: Okay, good. How do you feel?
Tam: Uh, same as usual, I’d say. Sensory nerves in my fingertips send an impulse via the motor nerve up to my brain where it’s transla-
Rand: [Shakes his head] Forget it, dad. Like you said, we gotta get going.
[Rand helps him up and together they hobble back to the house. They enter through the...back door...and Tam sits down at the table. Rand puts some stew on the stove for Narg and joins Tam at the table. They wait. And wait...and wait. And wait...]
Rand: [Tapping his fingers absent-mindedly on the table whilst whistling an unidentifiable tune]
Tam: [Resting his chins in his hands and exhaling boredly.]
Rand: La, la, la....do, do, dooo...[Glances at his watch]
Tam: [Disgruntled siiiigh]
Rand: [Singing quietly to himself] Nobody know...the Troublei’veseen...nob-
Nobody: Look, kid, I thought we already sorted this out!
Tam: HEY! [Strikes the table with his fist, startling Rand] I know! I’ll teach you some sword forms while we’re waiting for Narg!
Rand: [Mumbling contemplatively...] How conveniently clever...[Stands up and pulls out his HeronSabre. Casts his cloak aside and confronts Tam as he click the button...
SFX: Vmmm...
Tam: Okay. Now, feed all your fears and emotions and thoughts into the Flame...
Flame: Gobble, gobble, gobble
Tam: ....You are one with the Void..
Rand: [Swings his HeronSabre about experimentally]
SFX: Voo, voo, vmmm...
Tam: The first form I’m going to show you is called "Tarantula Contemplating Philosophical Hypothesis’ Concerning Heterogeneity" [Goes through the motions with an imaginary sword as Rand mimics him with the HeronSabre]
SFX: Vmm, vmmm, vmmmm...
Tam: Got it?
Rand: Yup!
Tam: Good. Now try this: You sorta flick your wrist and spin the HeronSabre around so it’s at a 47.5 degree angle, then in one almost undetectable combination move you shove the Sabre into your enemies’ stomach, twisting it and doing the Macarena. It’s called "Dominique the Spasmodically Exaggerated Sales Clerk Misinterpreting Written Protocol".
SFX: Vmm, vmmmm...[As Rand experiments the motion with an invisible opponent.
Invisible Opponent: NOOOOOO, NOT THE MACARENA!! AAAAAGH!!! [Dies instantaneously.]
Rand: Wow...that’s effective! ...Anything else you wanna show me?
Tam: Yeeeeah...there’s one in particular I really like. It’s called "Undeviating Aggrandizement and the Deep Down Cerebral Groove While Inside the Pylon With the Lifeless Alabaster Doll And The-" 
SFX: Knock, knock!
Tam: Who’s there?
Voice: Narg!
Tam: Narg who? 
Narg: Uh...um...Narg me over and blow me down...?
Tam: [Sneers disgustedly] That was pathetic, Narg.
Narg: Narg sorry. Narg come in?
Ta,: Yes, of course! By all means!
[The door swings open, and in steps...William Shatner???]
Jarret Wold: Mwahahahaha...
[Shatner is decked out in an apparently homemade suit sewn together rather clumsily of goat hair and horse flesh. Cow hooves are glue onto his Reebok’s and a pair of antlers strapped onto a bicycle helmet on his head. He is carrying a plastic scythe (With the price tag still on it)
Shatner (Narg): Grrrr. Me Blorg. Me want talk. 
Director Joe: CUT! Shatner - it’s "Me NARG". "Narg", got it? Who the heck’s Blorg, Shatner? Try it again.
Tam and Rand: [Looks around, confused]
Shatner: Me Narg. Ah...me...uh...CAN SOMBODY HOLD THOSE BLOODY CUE-CARDS HIGHER?!
Director Joe: CUT!
Shatner: Me Narblo.
Director Joe: CUT!
Shatner: Me Marvin!
Director Joe: CUT!
Shatner: Me Neville! Me Norbert! Me Satan! (Grrr...)
Director Joe: CUT, Shatner! It’s NARG!
Shatner: Me It’snarg!
Director Joe: Shatn-
Shatner: Me Joseph!
Director Joe: CUT! CUT!! Shatner, you’re FIRED! Baldwin, bring in Ed, would you?
Baldwin: [Drags Shatner outside]
SFX: SLAP! SOCK! BLAM! BIFF! KABOOM! [Sound of hands being dusted off]
Baldwin: [Returns with Ed...the talking horse]
Mr. Ed: Me Narg. Me want talk. Myrdraal come soon to talk. [Blah, blah, blah]
Rand: [Whispers to Tam] That’s my cue! [Picks up stew pot and hurls it at "Narg".] Take that, Mr. Trolloc!
Mr. Ed: Roar! Roar! [Charges at Rand angrily]
Rand: [Activates HeronSabre...]
SFX: Vmmmm...
Rand: [...and pulls fancy "Rabid Sea Monkey Crossing The Atlantic With An Oxen Carting Around A Hibatchi" on ‘Narg’.]
Mr. Ed: [Gasp] A horse- [Breathing heavily] isahorse-[Gasp] Of course...[Dies]
Director Joe: Cut!...GREAT job, Ed! ...Ed? ED! [Jaw drops open. Spins around to face Rand] Y-you killed Mr. Ed!! YYYYYOOOOOOOU! [Lunges at Rand.]
Rand: [Grabs Tam by the shirt collar as he dives through the...back door.]

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News Anchor: Urgent news update! Tam’s 3-foot gaping hole in his chest has caused him to pass out yet again. A terrible fever is burning him up, but our Hero™ has placed him in the cart and is currently dragging him all the way to the village to be tended to by the local witch, Nynaeve. We go now live and on location with our reporter, Spuzz Muklukk.
Spuzz: Thanks, Bill. I’m here in the Two Rivers, following Rand al’Thor as he stumbles along the road, pulling behind him a horseless horse-cart containing his feverish father. Rand, however, seems to be in rather high spirits, considering the situation.
Rand: [Singing] Follow the yellow brick road, follow the yellow brick road, follow the follow the follow the follow the follow the yellow brick road, hey!
Tam: [Moooooooan...]
Rand: [Singing] We’re off to see the witch, the wo-
Tam: [Groooooan...]
Rand: [Scratches his head and looks at Tam] Well, that doesn’t sound particularly healthy...
Spuzz: As you can see, Bill, Rand is quite a dimwit.
Tam: Raaaaaand! [Wheeeeze] You ain’t my son, boy. [Groooan...] I found ya [Gasp] on a mountain when I wuz in the [pant] aaaaarmy.
Rand: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT’S JUST THE FEVER TALKING!!
Spuzz: And quite stubborn, too.
Tam: Raaaaaand! [Wheeeeze] It ain’t the fever talkin’ [Moooooan...] It was [gasp] cold and I kinda felt sorry for [AAAOOOOW!] ya. I picked ya up [snort] and took ya home after marryin’ some [sniffle] unknown chick who [MOOOOAN...] died. 
Rand: IT’S JUST THE FEVER TALKING!!! [Gasp, gasp!]
Spuzz: Light, this guy’s obstinate. Let’s ask him a few questions.
Rand: Who the heck are you?
Spuzz: I’m Spuzz Muklukk from WOTBC. Would you mind answering a few questions?
Rand: Shoot.
Spuzz: [Pulls out a Smith & Weston and fires a round into his skull. Drops dead.]
Rand: [Stunned, as he stares at Spuzz’s corpse] I-I didn’t mean it literally!
SFX: [Marching sounds, footsteps]
[Through the darkness, a Myrdraal leading a Trolloc Horde can be distinguished]
Myrdraal: [Wearing dark sunglasses and a blank expression, feeling his way around with a walking stick while marching rather blindly, guided by an elf named Murphy] LEFT! LEFT! LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT! [Singing] We’re the foulest jerks around!
Trolloc Horde: We’re the foulest jerks around!
Myrdraal: Huff and puff and blow you down!
Trolloc Horde: Huff and puff and blow you down!
Myrdraal: We’ve got-AAAAGH! [Stumbles and falls over] Curse you, Murphy! You’re supposed to tell me where the bloody flaming Light I’m going! The look of the Eyeless may be fear, but the walk of the Eyeless is bloody inconvenient!!
Murphy: Thorry, thir! It won’t happen again, I promithe!
Trolloc Horde: We’ve got aaagh curse you Murphy you’re supposed to tell me where the bloody flaming Light I’m going the look of the-
Myrdraal: STOP SINGING, YOU BLOODY MORONS!
Trouble: [Speaking to Rand] Hello, I’m trouble.
Rand: Uh-oh, this is Trouble. [Gasps, pants, and pulls the cart harder, onward through the forest.]

Voice-over: We will continue with our regular programming after a word from our sponsors....

[Screen shows Lews Therin Telamon, walking happily down a road, hands in his pockets, whistling pleasantly to himself. Suddenly, his left legs twitches and he screams in pain as he clutches it, wincing. He screams agonizingly again as blood spews from a suddenly appearing 4-inch gash in his chest, and he falls to the ground. His left arm abruptly falls off, and he shrieks yet again. He begins sobbing and howling hysterically as deep puncture wounds start randomly appearing on places on his body. Behind him can be seen a small child, grinning evilly and slamming needles into a rag doll. Lews Therin screams again. The sound is muted, but you can still see his mouth moving in terror and his limbs abandoning his body, and blood gushing from every pore. An advertising type of voice announces, "NEW, from Darkgame Enterprises...The Lews Therin Telamon voodoo doll! Simply torture the doll as you would LTT himself, and watch him suffer the intensity of all the wrath you deliver! Perfect for a Christmas present for those evil children of yours, or as a Valentine’s Day present to Sammael! Now yours for only $33.99, for a limited time only! Batteries not included, 101 Ways to Torture the Dragon instructional manual sold separately. Darkgame Enterprises is not liable nor responsible for any damages suffered through utilization of this toy." The sound returns as LTT emits one last pained roar as his nose and his ears fall off his face.]

[A Myrdraal’s eyeless face pops up on the screen. The text below his face reads "Bill", and a voice-over says it out loud.]
[Another face replaces it, this one is named "Harold"]
[The next is Vern, then Peter, then Charlie]
[Then the scene switches to Shayol Ghul, somewhere around Thakan’dar. Hysterical screams can be heard in the distance, ripping apart the silence, then echoing, then fading away. The camera pans around to a little cave, wherein is a little man with a large needle, workin’ away. He is bent over a Myrdraal, and is carefully poking out its eyes (The Myrdraal is periodically emitting horrible shrieks), then placing the eyes in a large glass jar, which currently contains several hundred Myrdraal eyes. A 20-body-high stack of Myrdraal (all of whom have eyes) stands to his left, and on his right is a cluttered pile of eyeless Myrdraal, all of whom are screaming in pain. The voice-over says, "Meet Mr. I." The little man looks up and smiles and waves, then returns to his work. "Mr. I spends his days poking out Myrdraal eyes. Without him, the Dark would never operate as it does. The Dark needs its eyeless Myrdraal; the Dark needs Mr. I. And the Dark needs YOU. You see, Mr. I is suffering from what some people call ‘Almost Dead Syndrome’, or ADS, and we are urgently seeking a replacement for him. We are looking for someone with guts. If possible, someone with past experience with other divisions of the Dark (such as Trolloc Torso Assembly, etc.), preferably with a degree in Retina Removal Technology, or maybe even their Master’s in The Art of Myrdraal Dismemberment. Send or fax your resume in NOW, because the Dark is counting on YOU." Camera zooms in on Mr. I, who promptly keels over and dies. Screen fades to black. "This message has been brought to you by the Black Cross Association for Evil Employee Replacement"]

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