Hey, y'all What could be better, at this most traditional time of the year, than to take a traditional holiday song and mix it with some traditional 'To Die For'-style pointless mayhem? Lots of things, actually. Oh well... TO DIE FOR SONGFIC: THE TWELVE DAYS OF PSYCHOSIS by BKWillis It hadn't been announced; it had just sort of happened. One day it wasn't there and the next day it was, in all its holly-bedecked, tinsel-drenched glory. "A bandstand?" Nyssa asked, her curiosity piqued. "When did that get put up?" It was indeed a bandstand. A nice, wooden, whitewashed band- stand with festive sprigs of holly fastened in strategic places, enthusiastically tacky ribbons draped along its edges, and a large, friendly banner above it that read, '1st Annual This Time Round Christmas Pageant'. It had been erected along one edge of the parking lot, with a large section of the lot in front of it cordoned off by ropes and filled with small wooden chairs. The Trakenite set down her gym bag and rubbed thoughtfully at her chin. "What's a Christmas Pageant?" she wondered aloud. "You mean you don't know? Even _I_ know what one of those is." Nyssa instinctively snatched up her gym bag as she spun about to face the too-familiar voice behind her. "Do you really, Swamprat?" she hissed. "Or are you just trying to get under my skin?" Adric eyed her with an odd sort of placidity that made her jaw clench. He could at least have the decency to quail in terror, the weasel! "Do I have to _try_ to get under your skin?" he asked back. "Actually, no. Just being yourself is quite enough." She gave a little sniff and turned her nose up slightly, putting him in his proper place. "Really, now?" The Alzarian shook his head as if puzzled. "And yet, I thought I was utterly without importance in your life..." "You are!" she spat back too quickly. He ignored that and instead cast his eyes toward the bandstand. "But you were asking about the Christmas Pageant, correct?" "Er, yes, that's right. So tell, if you really know." "You could say 'please'," he said, glancing at her. For reply, she thrust a hand into her gym bag and came out with an old World War II-era submachinegun. She pointed it meaningfully at his midsection. "I could just shoot you and ask someone else, instead," she retorted. Adric appeared to consider this for a moment, then shrugged. "If that's as polite as you can be, okay. The Christmas Pageant is where all the people here at This Time Round get together to sing Christmas carols and put on a Christmas play. It's a way of helping to get into the holiday spirit." Nyssa yanked back the slide on the submachinegun. "I could help _you_ to become a holiday spirit," she said, smiling tightly. Adric just glanced at the gun and gave an unnervingly Nyssa-ish sniff of disdain that caused her to almost pull the trigger right then. "I should have expected that you'd miss the point," he sighed. "Typical of you, really..." "Hah!" spat Nyssa. "As if _you_ know all about Christmas?" "More than you," the boy retorted. "Enough to be in the Pageant, at least." The submachinegun drooped in her hands. "_You're_ going to be in the Pageant?!" Nyssa demanded. "As what? Not one of the Wise Men, that's for sure!" "Actually, I'll be doing a solo performance, thank you," Adric said. His face took on a strangely crafty look. "Say, you wouldn't be interested in watching me and giving your opinion, would you? A... _critical_ analysis might be helpful..." The Trakenite gave a small sneer. "I have better things to do." Adric shrugged, never losing that crafty look. "That's okay, then," he replied in that same placid tone. "I can always ask Ember to--" Nyssa was already sitting on one of the wooden seats. "If you just _insist_, I suppose I can be bothered to put you in your place," she huffed. "So go ahead and get on with it." Hiding his smirk, Adric climbed onto the bandstand. "Ahem. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," he said, bowing slightly. "For your listening pleasure, I will now sing the traditional Terran Christmas song, 'The Twelve Days of Christmas'." He drew in a deep breath and-- BANG! Adric jumped as a .45 slug burrowed into the planking at his feet. "Oops," called Nyssa as she blew a wisp of smoke from the sub- gun's muzzle. "Gosh, I don't know how that happened. Clumsy me. Heh heh heh..." "Actually, that's quite all right," Adric called back with an equanimity that put Nyssa on her guard. He drew in another deep breath and began to sing: o/~ On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ A cartridge from an M-3! "What!?" Nyssa jumped up out of her seat and strode angrily to the bandstand. Walking over to where Adric stood smirking, she raged, "Are you making fun of me? Is this some kind of joke?" She pushed him backwards, making him stumble. "Don't try anything with me!" she warned, pushing him again, nearly sending him off the stage. Satisfied that her message was clearly delivered, she turned about and flounced back to her seat as Adric resumed his place and returned to his song. o/~ On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! Nyssa was on her feet again in an instant, storming back onto the stage. She quickly stomped over to Adric and kicked him in the leg, hard. "Quit it!" she ordered. She kicked him again. "Don't even try to make fun of me!" One more kick for good measure, then she returned to her seat. o/~ On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! This time, Nyssa was too busy filling out a postcard to go and do anything to him in person, so she settled for verbal intimidation. "I'm warning you!" she called as she slipped the postcard into a convenient mailbox. "Jerk! Fool! Swamprat! Weasel!" She shook her fist as him, but he never lost that infuriating placid smirk. o/~ On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! At that moment, an Acme Industries delivery van squealed to a stop beside Nyssa's seat. The driver pushed out a huge wooden crate labelled 'Five (5) Trained Attack Mustelids, Extra Large', then sped away as Nyssa pried open the front of the crate. "Kill!" shouted Nyssa, pointing at Adric. Instantly a clawing, spitting, multi-bodied mass of fur and fangs swarmed out of the crate and onto the bandstand. The snarling mammalian tempest rolled straight onto the hapless Alzarian, who disappeared into the writhing mass. "That'll teach him," Nyssa muttered. At last, the ravening beasts ravened their merry way off the stage, leaving Adric's scratched and battered body where he'd fallen. But only for a moment. Much to Nyssa's chagrin, the boy slowly clambered to his feet and resumed his place. His clothes were ripped, one shoe was gone, and he had small bite marks all over his exposed flesh, but that damnable smirk was still there. He nodded slightly to his gobsmacked audience and began to sing again. o/~ On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! "Ooohh! You infuriating swamprat!" Nyssa ground her teeth and pounded her fists on the back of her chair. "I will _kill_ you if you keep this up! I will shoot you where you stand! I will cut off your head and feed it to the pigs! I will pulverize you! I will run you through a combine harvester! I will blow you to Kingdom Come! Do you understand me?! Stop it, now!" But Adric just kept grinning and singing. o/~ On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Sixth threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! "I'm through playing, Adric!" Nyssa rooted around in her gym bag and came out with a long leather cord with a small pouch in its middle. She grabbed a rock off the ground and dropped it into the pouch, then began whirling the cord around and around over her head. Once the cord was whirling at top speed, she released one of the ends, sending the rock whizzing toward the Alzarian's unprotected head. The boy barely managed to duck as the missile clipped a hair from his scalp. Six more rocks followed in rapid succession as Adric desperately dodged and twisted to avoid them. "Heh," laughed Nyssa, panting from her exertions. "Now you see that I'm not playing around." But Adric just smiled and began singing again. o/~ On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Seven stones a-slinging o/~ Six threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! Her face burning red with rage and more than a hint of embarass- ment, Nyssa again reached into her bag, this time pulling out a handful of small daggers. With a cry of fury, she began hurling the daggers at Adric as fast as she could as the boy threw himself prone to avoid them. Most of the knives simply sailed over the stage, but the last one thunked into the wood beside Adric's ear, where it stood quivering as if possessed by its mistress's frustrated bloodlust. But once no more projectiles were forthcoming, Adric hopped up and went back to his place. o/~ On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Eight blades a-flipping o/~ Seven stones a-slinging o/~ Six threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! "Just die, you weasel!" Nyssa screamed, whipping yet another lethal device out of her gym bag. This time it was a big, silvery handgun, tapered at the front and with various sorts of prongs and do-dads sticking out of it. The words 'Buck Rogers' could be clearly seen on the side as the maddened Trakenite levelled the gun at Adric and began yanking on the trigger. Unfortunately for Nyssa, Adric had apparently been expecting this as he was already diving off the back of the stage even as she opened fire. The beams from the pistol scorched the air behind and above him as he waited out the storm, not coming up until the sudden absence of burning rays and a delicate Traken curse told him the weapon was empty. He quickly scrambled back to his spot and went back to his performance. o/~ On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Nine lasers flashing o/~ Eight blades a-flipping o/~ Seven stones a-slinging o/~ Six threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! By this time, Nyssa had somehow gotten hold of her friend Yartek and was deep in conversation with him, a conversation that seemed to involve lots of pointing at Adric and finger-across-the- throat gestures. At last, Yartek nodded and motioned for a squad of his followers to attack the bandstand. The aliens loped forward in a shambling run and dove at the unconcerned Alzarian. As they did so, Adric stepped aside, letting the Marinusians go stumbling past and off the back of the stage. They lay there in a groaning heap as Yartek shook his head and stalked off. o/~ On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Ten Voords a-leaping o/~ Nine lasers flashing o/~ Eight blades a-flipping o/~ Seven stones a-slinging o/~ Six threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! Nyssa, beginning to look rather frazzled, was speaking into a walkie-talkie. "All units, weapons free. Shoot to kill on target acquisition. Fire at will!" A fusillade of rifle shots cracked out from the nearby woods and the pub roof. The heavy slugs blasted into the bandstand, sending up sprays of splinters and blowing holes through the festive decorations, but Adric, hunkering down, remained unscathed. When the barrage was over, the boy stood again and _winked_ -- actually bloody _winked_! -- at the flabbergasted Trakenite. o/~ On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Eleven snipers sniping o/~ Ten Voords a-leaping o/~ Nine lasers flashing o/~ Eight blades a-flipping o/~ Seven stones a-slinging o/~ Six threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! "You fool!" shrieked Nyssa. "Now you've done it! I didn't want to have to go this far, but your insulting railery leaves me no choice!" So saying, she snatched up the handset to a large radio transmitter she'd pulled from somewhere and began calling out a series of coordinates. "Target point is in sector GR-26, three hundred meters south-southeast of Hill 121. Wind east at six kilometers. Attack in echelon. Good luck, Captain Zachary. Base out." With that, she clapped a steel helmet on her head and ducked away out of sight. A moment later the air was full of the thundering growl of Bristol Mercury engines as two flights of Type 140 Balmoral attack bombers came tearing over the hilltops. As they neared the bandstand, doors swung open on the planes' bellies and they began to release their lethal cargoes. The world exploded into flame and wind and the bombs struck home. Chunks of pavement blasted into the air, wooden chairs disintegrated into flinders, and dirt geysered as the ground trembled and heaved. Once the last of the debris had settled back to earth and the throb of piston engines no longer beat the air, a small, dusty, steel-helmeted figure cautiously stuck up her head to see-- Adric still standing on what little remained of the stage, his hair full of splinters and dirt, soot marks on his clothes, and a knowing grin on his face. "Wha--?" Nyssa said intelligently. "But the... how did... this can't... you didn't..." But Adric just chuckled and sang: o/~ On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me o/~ Twelve bombers bombing o/~ Eleven snipers sniping o/~ Ten Voords a-leaping o/~ Nine lasers flashing o/~ Eight blades a-flipping o/~ Seven stones a-slinging o/~ Six threats of slaying o/~ Five wol-ver-ines! o/~ Four taunting words o/~ Three kicked shins o/~ Two brutal shoves o/~ And a cartridge from an M-3! "All right," sighed Nyssa, tossing her helmet to the ground. "I know when I'm beaten." She picked up her gym bag and flung it aside. "You've won, Adric." "I've won?" the boy asked. "You mean...?" She nodded as she walked up to join him on stage. "That's right. I'm into the Christmas spirit now. Not that I have a choice, apparently." "That's certainly more than I'd hoped for," Adric drily observed. Nyssa ignored the comment. "In fact, I'm so into the Christmas spirit that I think I'll perform in this Pageant, as well." She shot him a sly glance. "If you will assist me, that is." "I'm always glad to assist the less-talented," he replied, making a sardonic bow. "What are you wanting to perform?" She popped her knuckles, her smile dripping with sugary evil. "I was thinking of something from 'The *Nutcracker* Suite'... Hey! Get back here, you coward! Don't you run from me! It's not like you'd be using them anyway... I said get back here..." --BKWillis