THE NEON LITES:

I Think, Therefore I Am Single

Snerdly turned slate gray, then porcelain white, and then pea green.

"My darling Nerdicumms, it really IS you!" exclaimed the Queen, throwing her body against the hovering spacecraft, her lips leaving red prints on the view screen window, as she was lifted off the ground, holding on by purple fingernails.

"LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Snerdly choked, backing up against the rear wall, his lungs making wheezing, whistling sounds.

"No way! Like this is finally getting interesting," Sparki exclaimed, settling down to watch what would happen next.

"Snerdly, my beloved, you can't leave me and our love child alone again. How I have pined away awaiting your return!"

"Oh this IS good," Mollie commented.

"What?" Tasha asked, fluffing her hair and staring intently at the Queen's nail polish, which matched neither her clothes nor her hair. The effect was terrifying. The Queen really needed a new manicurist. If Bruce has some free time, maybe…Oh. The others were talking about something. "What?" she repeated.

"I. Said. Let's. Get. Out. Of. HERE!!" Snerdly propelled himself across the spaceship at an alarming rate and slammed his scrawny body across the control panel. The ship shook violently, then spun around like the Mad Tea Cup ride at Disney World. Craig puked (neatly) into his fiddle case. Tasha grabbed Mollie's foot, which was in the air because Mollie had been flipped onto her backside, and hung on for dear life. There were more fireworks (courtesy of our budget-limited special effects department) and strains of the theme music from The Nightmare Before Christmas spilled into the cockpit. Hamish whirled madly trying to find anything that would hold him upright. (Then Sparki walloped Hamish when she realized what he had grabbed.)

"Oh, like sorry, Heinous, I totally thought you were that bogus Snerd-dude."

Hamish bristled. "Bite yer…"

Everything went black. (Everything stayed black while the authors had pizza for dinner and watched some television.) When the lights finally came on and the dust cleared, everyone looked around to access the damage.

"Snerdly," Mollie began, almost too calmly, "If you EVER do that again, I WILL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR…"

"Well," said Hamish, "isn't THAT a vivid picture?"

Bruce let out a wail. "Look at this! My designer Armani suit is rumpled. It's just RUINED now!"

Sparki interrupted. "Like, dudes and dudettes…and Snerdly. Where in this hideously bogus universe are we now?"

Mollie looked out the window and for a moment was both pleased and distressed to realize the Queen was gone. Then she shrugged, peering around dried nail polish flecks and lipstick prints to stare off into the distance. "On the set of some bad 1940s gladiator movie, I think." She suggested upon further observation.

"Cool," Tasha smiled, suddenly participating. "Do you think we'll meet Caesar? I am dying for a salad."

"Seriously, you guys," Mollie whined, "I think we're in a lot of trouble here."

"Why do you say that?" Tasha remarked. "I'm having a really good hair day."

Mollie frowned and gritted her teeth. "Because there is a Legion of armed Roman Guards marching this way…"

"Oh goody," Bruce chirped, rushing to the window, "Look at all those cute knees…"

"Look at all those sharp swords," Snerdly swallowed.

"Uh oh," Craig was looking out the back window. "Ummm, folks? Ummm…those are nae Roman Soldiers…they're GREEK."

"A Greek salad would be fine," Tasha said agreeably.

Craig did the wise thing and ignored Tasha. (Craig's no fool; he just has a weak stomach.) "I think we just landed on the Trojan Horse."

"EEEEWWWWWWWW!" Tasha squealed.

"The WHAT!?" Mollie bellowed.

Snerdly misunderstood Mollie's bellow as a genuine question and settled down for a long explanation. (Craig and Hamish settled down for a long nap.)

"In Greek mythology…" Snerdly began as a collective groan echoed through the cabin, "there is a tale of a mythological city called Troy…"

Sparki clobbered Snerdly on the back of the head, but all he did was inch away from her, still speaking. "So when Paris of Troy fell in love with…"

"Totally kidnapped!" Sparki interrupted.

Snerdly waited until Sparki was done then continued. Sparki stuck out her tongue. "When Paris FELL IN LOVE WITH Helen, wife of Menelaus…I am jumping ahead, First there was a golden apple and Paris had to chose the fairest goddess and he chose Aphrodite over Hera and Artemis because, after all, the goddess of love was known for her beauty. But Helen was so beautiful her face launched a thousand ships. So, anyway…"

Tasha yawned. "Hurry up, I'm bored."

Sparki pushed Snerdly aside. "There was, like, this big war…blah blah blah….and it totally went on for ten bogus years…yadda yadda yadda and the Greeks heinously cheated and bogusly won. El finito. Got that Snerd-dude?"

Snerdly sniffed. "You ruined the story."

"Yeah. But she completely humiliated you and THAT was fun." Mollie laughed as Sparki took a victory lap around the bridge, unfortunately stepping on sleeping Scotsmen in the process.

"Well, we ruined the horse," Craig pointed out, painfully climbing to his feet. "And I dinnae think those soldiers are going to be happy about it."

Hamish clambered to his feet. "Alrighty then, Snerdly and Craig take the portside of this wee vessel…"

"Take it where?" asked Tasha.

"…And Bruce…no Sparki, you and I will take starboard. We'll defend the ship with our lives, yea with our very blood."

Bruce blanched. "Don't you DARE get blood on my clean floor! It's just been buffed!"

"FREEDOM!!" Hamish let out a yell and, kilt blowing in the breeze, crashed through the hatch. He bounced on the fallen door as if it were a diving board, then, assuming a classic dive position, flew into the air and landed inside the walls of the ancient city, falling neatly into a pile of hay.

"Fuck me - He cleared it!" Craig cried in astonishment.

Mollie peeked out of the broken door. The Greek soldiers were staring in astonishment at the spot where Hamish had gone over the wall. Mollie smiled, waved and quickly ducked back inside. "We are in DEEP trouble."

"I'll say," said Tasha, "look at what this climate is doing to my leather skirt. It's limp! Who could possibly wear leather in this humidity? And why is my salad taking so long?"

Bruce whimpered. Mollie patted him on the back and decided to take charge. (Well SOMEone had to…) "We're surrounded. Everyone, grab a weapon - anything - and stick close together. NOT THAT CLOSE, SNERDLY!"

Craig grabbed his fiddle (sans case, which had not yet recovered from the upset stomach incident earlier in this chapter), Tasha grabbed a can of hairspray, Mollie grabbed a croquet mallet, Sparki grabbed a blowtorch and Bruce grabbed a hair dryer. Snerdly looked around, then picked up a box of business cards. (Typist's note: What is he going to do? Market them to death?)(Webmistress' note: It's highly possible!)

Tasha eyed Mollie's choice of weaponry. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Hit the Greeks with the friggin' mallet!" Mollie hissed. "Now, we just need a diversion…"

Snerdly pushed through the group and ran towards the Greeks. Craig boggled. "Is he crazy? Are ye CRAZY man?"

"Yes he is," said Tasha, "so what's your point?"

Snerdly began greeting the Greek Army, and shaking their hands as he pulled out business cards. Suddenly, Hamish appeared on the wall of the City, waving frantically. The rest of the Neon Lites raced forward as he pointed towards a small, opened, but heavily guarded, door.

They ran and before anyone could say "Where's Snerdly?" they were behind the wall and inside the ancient City of Troy. Hamish was standing beside a tall, angry-looking young man with curly hair and various weapons strapped to his body with leather.

"Lad, lassies…this is Hector." Hamish lowered his voice. "He thinks we're gods here to save Troy in its most desperate hour. Aye well, I couldnae tell him different noo, could I?"

Tasha fluffed her hair. "Well, I get to be Aphrodite then," She proclaimed, still glancing around in vain for her salad. Mollie rolled her eyes skyward.

Bruce made what passed for a fist and flexed his non-existent muscles. "Was Hercules a god? Cause, honey, I could be his twin." He informed them.

"OKAY THAT'S IT. Everybody huddle!" Mollie said quickly, before things could disintegrate further.

"Excuse us for a wee bittie, Lad," Hamish whomped Hector on the shoulder in a friendly, spine-shattering way and joined the group, now gathered around Mollie.

"Now look," Mollie began, "we are in a precarious situation here and we are perilously in danger of altering the course of history by impersonating gods and destroying the Trojan horse. We need to gather our resources and get out of here before anything else goes awry."

Tasha stared at her. "I think I speak for everyone here when I say, HUH?"

Sparki grinned. "She means we, like, totally have to blow this bogus rubber stand."

Mollie blinked. "Er, rubber?"

Sparki nodded. "You SAID they were Trojans, right?"

"Oh dear god!" Mollie exclaimed.

"Which one?" Bruce queried, picturing Apollo and Hercules, and what he could do with both and a vat of Jell-O.

"Well, er, there is ONE wee problem," Hamish said sheepishly (no joke intended. Hamish WAS sheepish. You'd be too if you had just done what Hamish had done and now had to tell a group of semi-friends what you had done).

"What, like, problem, Heinous?" Sparki cocked her head.

"Hamish…"

"And?"

Hamish smiled weakly at Sparki and the others. "Well, er, I , um…Itoldthem thatwewouldhelpthemandItoldthemaboutthehorse."

Mollie paled. "You did WHAT?"

"But the horse is now a pile of pretty little toothpicks," Bruce observed.

Tasha raised her hand. "I'm lost. I thought we squashed a cute little horsie…"

"Well, like total time out - time for a history recap!" Sparki tapped her right palm on her left fingertips. "This is out of control and most heinous…"

"Yes?" Hamish answered.

"Not you. This. All of us. Like totally."

Tasha shook her head. "What’s the big deal? We tell them we're gods, we visit, we drink wine and eat ambrosia, then we get into our space ship and fly to Mount Olympic or wherever it is the Greek Gods live…" (note to Florida readers: Tarpon Springs.) Tasha chewed her finger thoughtfully, "I mean, we're gods, right? And there's a whole lot of gods, right? So it's not likely they'll expect to meet us again, right?"

"That almost makes sense," Mollie reflected.

Prince Hector cleared is throat. They turned towards him, as one mind, grinned and waved, then quickly returned to their huddle.

"We need a plan," Mollie began.

"No way. We have had plans before and they never work," Bruce pointed out sensibly.

"This will be a GOOD plan." Mollie argued.

"Whatever you say, honey." Bruce was not buying it.

Sparki cut in. "Fine, let's totally bodaciously think. Except you Tasha."

Tasha brightened. "How do you think I'd look as a Vestal Virgin?"

The group ogled her. "A WHAT?"

"Look at that silk dress - it's just GORGEOUS!" Tasha pointed away from the group at the woman standing in the distance, dressed in a long, flowing, blue silk robe tied with a chic gold belt.

"Doomed!" she cried. "We are all doomed. Apollo and Poseidon have cursed us and the city will be consumed by fire!"

Hector frowned. "Lady Cassandra - return to your bed. Stop speaking such nonsense."

"That must be Cassandra," Mollie whispered, "she's cursed to always tell the truth and have no one believe her."

"Totally like the opposite of O.J. Simpson, huh?" Sparki smiled.

Cassandra pointed at the wall. "DOOMED! City on fire, rats in the grass and the lunatics howling at the moon - it's the end of the world!"

"How very Sondheim of you," Bruce quipped.

Everyone looked over to the wall at the hideously ugly creature creeping towards them.

"Eeeewwww - a bug!" Tasha and Mollie squealed at the same time.

"The Trojan COCKROACH?" Sparki exclaimed in disbelief. "Hey! Where's Snerdly?"