Labyyrinth

The Weight of the World,
Erm,
Realms

In the stone-flagged Seeing Room the Master stands (he wears thigh-length fur boots, a purple velvet codpiece, a fur cloak made of a whole flayed Unicorn, the head draped over his left shoulder, hooves dangling near his knees).

Master:
Mmm'well! So thou art returned to the Labyyrinth, art thy? Need your mystic fix of what we're sellin', verily, aintcha?
Weeell, good-evening song to you, and welcome to the dreadmas and perile Realm of the Labyrrinth, where reality, and fiction are utterly fact. 'Pon my honour, this is, in earnest, the very best place for all ye die-hard dungeoners-and-dragoners, for whom the word imaginative is the most imaginative ye can imagine- y' bunch of sojourners, y'.
Art ye looking for excitement? Art thou looking for adventure? Thou art, art ye? Weeell on this show we've more thrills and spills than a rollercoaster crammed with geriatrics.

Master's voice is very theatrical, sometimes basso profundo.

Master:The Labyyrinth's wide range of puzzles, traps, and out-right-attacks are faced by a brave Labyyritheer-er, who must perform feats of heroism to win through the Labyyrinth, or, or, die in the attempt.
And so: Laura! Our brave and intrepid young wunderkind... Laura? ...must battle all the horrosities of said Labyyrinth in order to complete her valiant Quest! To retrieve the mystic Pff-Four-Seven Form! From the turrets of the Tower of Murder! In the depths of the Forest of Evil! And she's only nine!!!
Using this mystic Form, Laura can save our Realm by ordering financial ruin to the blood-thirsty United Unicorn Emirates, who have recently mobilized a mighty one-pronged attack force with which to decimate to literally ribbons all the Ffolk of all the Realms!

Master lowers himself onto a patent black leather chaise-lounge which has, for feet, red hooves. He reclines upon it... and continues.

Master: Well, it seems that the Unicorn Emirates were angered by the near genocide of their race at the hands of hunters, who can sell the Uni's corn for literally large amounts. This is due to its miraculous properties, such as granting wishes, and, and coping with erectile dysfunction, oh yes!... But not in that way, of course... it has to be ground down first.
If Laura can complete her Quest for the Form: the Oonicorn Nation will fall! The Ffolk of all the Realm won't live in fear! And, at long last, we can all get on with our decoratin'.

Master reaches out and pats a mounted Unicorn head... some of its horn is missing.

Master: And guiding the little adventurette Laura through this a-maze-ing hyper-reality are her two "Brave Advisors".

Master physically apostrophises those words.

Master:(Gestures) Him, and her.

At the Unicorn desk are sat a pale, slim boy in a pointy wizard's hat and a bran-flake for a wart: next to him a grubby ginger girl in cheap plastic NHS spec's. They do not move.

Master:What can you tell us about this absolute pair of, then, Slave?

Slave, dressed in a red rubber body suit ("unitard"?) and a pinafore, scuttles over to Him and Her at the desk.

Slave:Advisors: Edgar Bedfellow, and Maaaud. Both nine.

Slave is going through their pockets.

Slave:Both hail from Promptly-in-the-Mouth, in Middlesexxx.
Their Labyyrintheer-er is Laur-er, er, also nine. They've somehow reached Level Fourteen, B, and now they are heading for the Wizard's Tower! Wow!
Laura carries with her... Gold? None. ... Magic Spells? One: "Suicide"...Her Health Rating? Poorly-ill. They were frozen-in-time just after Laura's noble bare-knuckle fight with a Vicar.

Master:Come.

Master gestures for the Slave to unzip his thigh-length fur boot. After Slave has removed it from the Master, and passed it to the Master, the Master chucks it hard off-cam.
A metallic collision is heard... then an electrical hum starts up.
Children are un-frozen, and speak.

Him:Right, Laura: now is after that fight with that Vicar, Laura; and you're now standing in a thing. I think it's supposed to be a... garden or a graveyard...

Laura's voice is heard.

(Laura:Hello, Edgar! How are you? ...)

Him:...Yeah, well the fight with Father Absolom decreased your Health... in fact, on your 'Ceefax Factfile Info Page' it lists your Health as one of the quite low ratings... Polio. So before you go any further you should eat something in order to get your Health up.

Her:...What about those two fishees? That she fought the Vicar for?

(Laura:... They smell bad!)

Her:Just eat them, Laura! That should increase your Health Rating to high enough to satisfy Social Services.

Laura:...So 'dead', then?

Her:...Do it!

Laura stands in a low-tech computer-graphiced room. She wears: a huge horned-helmet; Baggy, bloody chain-mail jumper; Filthy, bloody, ripped, lime leggings; and, one, flashing-heeled pink trainer. From the Thundercats lunch-box Laura carries with her Laura pulls out two green pieces of slime.

Laura:(Inhaling) Errr! Eeeerrr...

Laura retches as she forces them under her Helmet and into her mouth.
*Harp-strings are plucked magically... then abruptly and unskilfully silenced*.

(Him:That means that you're healthy again, Laura... you feel better now.)

Laura:...I don't.

(Her:Right, Laura, we'll guide you to the exit now, so... take two side-steps right, then turn to you front left.)

...Laura does so.

(Her:And now just keep side-stepping to our North-East.)

Laura walks through the darkened doorway, and the screen goes blank...
White writing on a black screen reads:
"Loading Environment
20%(...) 40%(...) -88%...
Rebooting...
Q: Did you mean to switch off your computer in you latest session?
A: ?!
... Chamber 2, Z"

Her:(Together)... You're in a...
(Laura:(Together)...Hello?)

Pause.

Her:(Together)...In a...

(Laura:(Together)...Sorry...)

Her angrily taps pencil, mutters... Pause...

Her:(Together)...In a...

(Laura:(Together)...Hello?)

Him:You stand in a large, flag-stoned, mullioned, crennalated scullery, Laura: a classic example of neo-Realmsian architecture. It has three exits.

Laura:Which one shall we take?

(Him:Weeell, if we call the door to your Left, 'door one': and then the door Dead-Facing you (next to the door One) 'door Two', and etcetera, etcetera... (breathes) etceteraaah... and the door to your Right, 'the door to your right, then it'll all be a lot easier for us to guide you.)

(Her:...How's that a scullery? ...There isn't even a maid.)

Laura:...Well, I think a person should always choose the right path... don't you? Because, of course, just in-case it's a trick question... in so far as they might have made the right door the right door to go through... and, and: three is a lucky number, and, on the right hand of gooo-oood sits Jesu' itself!

(Him:...Well, what advice did the fair fairy Spoin Groonerism give us when she told us about how to find the fabled Verdigris Filigree Non-descript Key?)

Him and Her flip through their exercise books in the Seeing Room 'til they find the right place...

(Her:...She saaaid, "The Key'd lead us to the Magician's Tower".)

(Him:...Then she said, "That's all I know.")

(Her:...Then she said, "Please ...please... just end it.")

Laura:Then she said that thing about her having a family, noble lineage, cursed me to never take the right path... Then she... Then she...

There is a guilty silence as the children remember what happened then...

(Him:..."The right path" ... the right path!!! Don't you see?!... Didn't you hear her?!)

(Her:...Yes... Yes! ... Did you?)

(Him:...Then let's do it!!!)

(Her:...(Excited) Right, Laura- chaaarge!)

(Him: No!...)

Laura charged... Laura falls to an epically graceless heap, on the floor, as she encounters the unmentioned rotating dais, which guards the exits.

Laura:Wha' in hell?!

Him:...Right, Laura, you're on a sort of rotating dais...

Master:Mmmmmmmmmm'ah! Mmyes! M'rotatin' dais, m'eh..?

Cam. shows Master and Slave: Master reclining, Slave , on his lap, has been fanning Master with a stiff, dead fairy.
Master stands, dropping Slave to heap on floor (Slave:"Ow!! ... Mmmm..." )

M:This rotais ...could be a lot of trouble in the wrong hands; a very tricky situation for you, young adventurephiles; for if Laura were to fall off the rotais, and into the surroundin' bottomless pit; she could die!... or lose an eye!

Her:...How?

Master:M'yes, I can see your points, m' wash-bucketer. M'Weeell, know this: there exists in the Realms a race known as Sword Elves! Elves shaped like swords, d'ya see? Probly made of metal, too, I reckon, anyway. Well, anyway, they are peace-loving and they shun man-kind; living by themselves; in bottomless pits... which is unfortunate for so peace-loving a race... as Man often plumeteth into such places.

Her:...But where do they live in a bottomless pit?!

Master:(Looking Her in the eye) ...Why, dear... at the bottom!

Master struts toward a Welsh dresser, piled high with junk: crystals, manuscripts, butt plugs... He begins to rummage...

Master:If only someone brave and wise could do something to help you!
If only someone wise and handsome could give you a talisman to aid Laura,
in this, her half-hour of need...

As the Children watch, the Master selects something from one of the dresser drawers... and furtively stuffs it into his pocket.
He turns and scowls at the watching children.

Master:(Angrily) M'yess?!

Him and Her turn away, tutting.

(Her:Get up, Laura! This rotais is gonna be a bit tricky on your balance... so I think we should have a quick practice, giving and obeying commands, just so's we get our bearings.)

(Him:Or we could just...)

(Her:(Whispered) No, watch this!
Okay, Laura? I'm gonna need for you to practice your balance. So, take a side-step forwards... Now a side-step sidewards...Take a side-step backwoods... That's it: forwoods, sidewoods, backwoods...)

...Laura is waltzing!

(Her:...Now put your hands on your hips...)

(Master:Childers, childers! There isn't time for this! The Banshees control this part of the Labyyrinth! And you know that they swore a blood-oath to take revenge on you because of how Laura ruined their picnic.)

Laura:Can I stop now?

(Her:You'll continue until I've finished explaining the plan.
Right, well, you know you're on a rotais?... Right?)

Laura:(Still broadly waltzing) ...Yeeeah?

(Her:And you know that to get to an Exit you'll havta step off the rotais and onto the path that leads to the exit?)

Laura:(Arms held out for balance on the spinning disc) Yeeeah?

(Her:And you know that if you put a foot wrong you'll plummet to your...)

Laura:(Stops waltzing) Right.

(Him:So... when I say 'run', you run... So just concentrate! 'cause this is an epic moment.)

Slave:(Shaking the children) Yesss, h-whiper-sssnappersss, Laura is in a grave of danger; en it? Loss of limb and innocence if the Banshees catch up with you! They always forget but they never forgive. Make hassste, Laura, make hatsss!

(Laura:Er, why's he talking to me?! ... Just tell me when to move, okay, Edgar?)

Him:...Okay...

Slave:(Shaking Children's shoulders) Hats, childlings! The time isss ripe for the plucking!!!

Him:(Shaking Slave off cissily) Okay, Laura?...

Slave scuttles over to Master, paws at him.

Slave:Master! Master! Matser! The time! The hecking tiiime...

Master: ...M'yes? What is it?

Slave:...It's ripe, Master!

Master:...Right...

Slave:MATSER!!

Master:...What is it??

Slave:...Plucking!...

Master nonplussed but concerned.

(Him:...Now!)

On screen now Laura runs as directed by Him... Laura veers off the intended path- walks across bottomless pit graphic- and through the Left door.
Screen goes blank.

WELCOME ANY AND ALL CRIT'S AND PROBLEM-SOLVING PLEASE-THANK-YOU; REWRITES, MISSED JOKES, WHAT-IN-HELLS...
HAVE ANOTHER TWO OF lABYYRINTH TO EDIT AND POST.
Most sketches I've read on here are really good and so will be wading-in and oar-stickin' soon on different threads.