"Mommy! Mommy! That woman has breats!"
"Shhh, Tom. It's just a typo. Don't point."
Cordelia ,'The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco'
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
"Mommy! Mommy! That woman has breats!"
"Shhh, Tom. It's just a typo. Don't point."
Tom is crazy.
"Hey, lady, I don't care how much skin and leather you're flashing, if we can face down the Nazgul, we can face down you!"
No, wait, I've got my tickets and am in already. Never mind, the plebes can fend for themselves.
Whups, almost forgot Giddy Wraith's popcorn. I'll get him a large and he can share if he wants. The rest of 'em can deal with small nachos. And no jalepenos.
When I wake up, I find I'm lying in the street outside the cinema again. Shakily, I climb to my feet, muttering, "This is one strange town." I look around. On the side of one of the buildings there's a map. I resolve to consult it, and if I can't make any sense of the place then, I'll just have to ask a local, um, crazy person someone who is here already.
It can't be that dangerous, can it?
It can't be that dangerous, can it?
The entire town was once very nearly sucked into chaos. Does that count?
And, okay, folks, again: I'M SORRY ABOUT THE TOWN BEING ALMOST SUCKED INTO CHAOS! STOP ASKING "Hey, any murderous interdimensional interlopers coming after you today?" IT WASN'T MY FAULT!
Uh, dude? I was there.
It was totally your fault.
Was not.
As I stagger towards the map, I hear a couple of people who appear to live here abouts arguing over who's fault it was that the place was nearly sucked into choas. I smile, realising that Eris' Cult of the Sinking Grapefruit will fit right in here.
Look, see...I was sent, okay, I was out of my mind, there was nanotech and Windows operating systems involved. Not. My. Fault.
As I lean on the wall and attempt to read the map, I wonder if it doesn't make sense because I'm dying, or because it's written in another language. Something in the back of my head prompts me to seek help, which is about the time that I notice that the guy who is protesting that he didn't try to plunge the town into choas is the same man who blasted the Ringwraith eariler.
"A powerful wizard! Just what I need!" I groan, as I faint into his arms.