Dance Fairytale Game

There once was a man torn asunder
On his desires to travel down under
Wicked plans did he contort
But alas, he fell short
Of the money to fund such a wonder

So, he gathered his unsightly passport photo,
In an attempt to search for his own kind of mojo.
Eyes bulging, and forcing a grin,
Took a step forward and stuck out his chin,
Saying, "Why, I'll even take my dog, Toto."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was at that moment as he sat in his home in El San Diego that a knock struck at his door. It pulled him from his forlorn fantasy, once, twice, thrice came this knock knock knocking upon his door.

His heart beating furiously, his palms clammy, he gently opened the door, and standing there dressed in disguise, was a man known as the "Mentor," and those that personally know him, called him the "DanceMentor."

Speaking out in voice so calm, " I heard you wailing from far across the land, all the way to Atlantaville." "Why do you weep so loudly, my son?

As the 'handsome young man' looked up, he was nearly blinded. Lights radiated from the stanger. Blues, yellows, reds, greens. Lightning bolts reached out, but nothing was struck, nor damaged. Music was loudly playing, but the stereo was not switched on. "Yikes," he thought, "it's Salsa music I hear, but it's being played by James Brown."

And as quickly as he said that, all was silent. The 'young handsome man's' heart was racing, but he courageously asked, "Who are you?"

The uninvited guest looked down at the at the 'young handsome man' and said, "Why I'm the DanceMentor. I am your Fairy Godfather." I heard you wailing about your plight, and as to whether to go by boat or by flight."

"I am here to grant you three wishes. So, be careful what you wish for, and choose wisely my son . . .

The 'young handsome man' closed his eyes and thought, "Hmm, three wishes?" "Whatever shall I choose . . . Mama needs a coat and Dad needs new shoes, and I need to get to the land down under to find the only fair MAIDEN in all the land. Only her silvery shoes that leaves flames, could match my own dance games.

"Take your time in chosing, as I need a moment's break to e-mail the entire nation . . . to grant your three wishes, I need another donation, said DanceMentor.

LiIke a light bulb going off ninhis head, the 'handsome young man' sat up and spoke. My first wish is . . .
 
Like a light bulb going off in his head, the 'handsome young man' sat up and spoke:

"My first wish is for some new threads!"

"New threads?" spoke the DanceMentor. "You must be more specific my son, I am not quite up to speed with this new fangled lingo of yours."

"I need some new dancing duds," quote the young man. "I seem to have lost my purple hat, and besides that color doesn't really fit my new image. If I am to dance with a lady with shoes of a fallen star and a dress of glittering silver, I have to possess the best clothes in the land!"

"Indeed," said the Fairy Godfather. "But this is quite a wish that you have asked for, as the only people who could craft such a suit of the stars are the Royal Elves of Adanac."

"What?" exclaimed the young man. "Are you saying I have to go to that back-asswards country just to get a suit? What kind of a magical Godfather are you?"

"Sage young lad, sage," warned the DanceMentor. "I shall bring the young Elfin Prince of the Devin family here for you to talk with. Only he can make the suit that you wish to possess."

"Ok then, let's see your magic you Merlin wannabe," opined the handsome young man.

In a flash of light, more brilliant than 1,000 fireworks, more beautiful than a rainbow after a mighty thunderstorm did the DanceMentor's magic light up the room.

And lo and behold, there stood a small and puckish young elf, holding in his hands a needle and thread of unknown mystical power.

"So then," quote the elf. "I am the Elfin Prince NeoDevin, from the backwards land of Adanac...what is your desire, thee who wishes to dance with the fair lady who treads fire?"

"Well," said the handsome young man...
 
"So then," quote the elf. "I am the Elfin Prince NeoDevin, from the backwards land of Adanac...what is your desire, thee who wishes to dance with the fair lady who treads fire?"

"Well," said the handsome young man, brazenly sticking out his hairy chest, "The young lady from down under has shoes of a fallen star and a dress of glittering silver, so I am told. I must have the best of the best. I want an outfit of gold."

"You see," continued the 'young handsome man,' "I am the Sir of Swing, the Sultan of Salsa, and the Ballsiest of Ballroomers. I have an image to uphold."

"But," replied the Elfin Prince NeoDevin, from the backwards land of Adanac, "tis no easy task."

The Elfin Prince went on, "I must return to Adanac so that I can instruct my many, many, many, many, many, many, many little women to spin straw into golden threads to make such a garment."

Continuing, "Then I must consult with my most talented writer/designer and engineer, Miss Gen-u-ine Pyggy. She will design the duds for you. Of course, it will take her about 4-thousand tries before she finalizes it. I must ponder this request."

Just then, in a cloud of smoke, the Fairy Godfather, DanceMentor, butted in, "The 'young handsome man' has a wish, and it must be ganted."

"That's three wishes there your dazzling brillance, and they're all free. So be off with you," replied the 'young handsome man.'

"Your wish is my command oh Salty Singer, er, uh, Bold Savory Salsa Guy, the One with Balls, oh, whoever. I'm one my way, but first, I need to get your measurements.

"Hat size?" asked the Elfin Prince.

The 'young handsome man' thought for a second and replied . . .
 
"Hat size?" asked the Elfin Prince.

The 'young handsome man' thought for a second and replied...

"You know what Mr. Elfin Prince, I think I've had it with the whole hat thing. Last time I wore one I didn't score a single time, not to mention the amount of people who found it funny."

"But you must wear a hat!" said the Prince. "All proper gentleman wear one, especially when going to dance with a lady such as Mistress Salsachinita. Do you want to look like a gandygooner, eh?"

"Fine then," said the young Sultan of Salsa. "If it'll shut you up for a while, then whatever you think will look good."

"Excellent," said the Prince. "I will make you look great."

"Sure, whatever," guffawed the Sultan.

"You makin' fun of me, eh?" boomed the Prince.

"Damn straight," said the handsome young man.

"Human, thy naiveté is deliciously amusing!" cried Prince NeoDevin. "For I have lived for 3,000 years, and been the lover of more Elfin lasses than you could possibly count! As a matter of fact, I happen to be the Mack Elfy of Devinshire! What do you say to that?"

"I say shut it!" yelled the Sultan. "Are you going to make me some new threads, or do I have to wish for someone else who can really do it."

"He's right your highness," said DanceMentor. "As you have been summouned, so you must provide the wish. Such is the way of our code of honor."

"Ah go stuff it!" yelled the Prince and Sultan together.

"You try my patience!" bellowed the fairy Godfather. "Elfin Prince, make with the new clothes, and I mean NOW!"

"Of course," said the Prince. "But in my dawdling I realized one thing...yes I have the means to make the material for such an outfit...but alas I am but an Elf. I know little of how to dress a human for such an event. I must ask that you call forth the King of the Metrosexuals, Sir DNice Von Lindyhoppin."

"Ask and ye shall receive," said DanceMentor. "Thou speaketh with a forked tongue my fair Prince, but you are quite correct that he is the man to call. As you have willed it, so it shall be done."

Suddenly, the room began to glow...and the sounds of strange music filled the ears of all the men (minus the Elf of course) present. A magical doorway appeared, and as it opened, there strode forth a man of such charm and elegance that even the great Wizard DanceMentor was left speechless.

"So we meet again Prince of Adanac," spoke the perfectly dressed devil, Sir DNice Von LindyHoppin.

Turning to the handsome young SD, he said...
 
Suddenly, the room began to glow...and the sounds of strange music filled the ears of all the men (minus the Elf of course) present. A magical doorway appeared, and as it opened, there strode forth a man of such charm and elegance that even the great Wizard DanceMentor was left speechless.

"So we meet again Prince of Adanac," spoke the perfectly dressed devil, Sir DNice Von LindyHoppin.

Turning to the handsome young SD, he said, "Why look at you, all dressed black . . . you need the clothes and you need a hat. Once that is done, you will indeed look like the part of the Sultan of Salsa, the Sir of Swing, and. . . what ever else you are blessed with."

Sir DNice Von LindyHoppin continued, "Do you not want to look as 'swave and deboner' as I? I stand a mere 7 feet tall, and with these clothes on my back, some even mistake me for the Shaq."

And with that, the 'handsome young man' stepped forward to be suited for his threads of gold. Colors were added that would make him look bright, but not too much, things were going just right.

Two days and two nights, the tailors stitched, and all the while, ideas from Sir DNice Von LindyHoppin were feveriously pitched. "Wait, I have another brilliant idea Oh Sultan Sir, why not add just a touch of fur?"

"Damn, I'm so full of it . . . great ideas, that is" said Sir DNice Von LindyHoppin as he laughed and shook like a bowl of jelly. "Why, if you had a tan, we could call you R. Kelly." "Oh well, I'm sure that's idea been taken and probably would fail, but whatever shall I do with that ponytail?

Spinning the 'handsome young man' around, Sir DNice grabbed the long hair that gracefully flowed down the back of the Sir Swing, the Sultan of Salsa, the . . . oh hell, you get the idea who it is! In that same fleeting moment, Sir DNice yelled "Gaze upon this hair of length, for surely I'll prove it's not the key to his strength. This cannot be perchance, the secret of his great dance.

Reaching for the shears, Sir DNice Von LindyHoppin continued, " Mind you of course this is no jealousy, I'll prove once and for all this is a fallacy." Aiming for the hair with scissors in hand . . . all of a sudden, another flash. There appeared the fairest in the land.

With a voice as soft a Charmin . . .
 
With a voice as soft a Charmin spoke a young maiden fair, one who is said to have worn magical underwear. Of this tale now we shall not speak, less tis not the time to hear of such a treat. Upon her feet were a pair of ballet slippers of a size quite large, leaving many a glance upon her eyes that glittered like stars.

"Sir DNice," quote she. "I must ask that you stop this at once! Leave the man's ponytail be, for without it he would surely look like a dunce!"

Turning to the slyph young lass, the man who stood in glowing golden threads bowed low.

"And who might you be, fair Maiden of shoes so big?"

"I am the Elfin princess Swingin' Kitten, human of things unmentioned that are most likely small. I have come to save you from being overdressed, for I like that none at all."

"So we meet again," said the King of the Metrosexuals. "Why do you always have to spoil my fun Ms. Kitty? I was just doing my job."

"And a fine job you did Sir," said she. "But our work here has come to an end, so then my dear Sultan of Salsa, we must bid you farewell, till next we meet again!"

With another flash of light, a puff of smoke and swirling colored, the trio of the three magical beings suddenly left our hero's home, leaving him standing alone with the Fairy Godfather, Dance Mentor.

"Those are some damn fine duds you got there kid," said the Fairy Godfather. "If I was mortal again, you can bet your sweet behind, I've be chasing the dames with only one thought on my mind."

"Well," said the young Sultan. "I'm actually just looking to dance, and I'm not really looking for any romance."

"In time my dear boy, in time, for one does not always need to reel in thy line when just out fishing. Now then, you still have two more remaining, so let's make with the wishing!"

Standing still for a moment, the Sultan of Salsa pondered what his second wish might be. He already possessed the hippest, most stylish threads in all the land, what else could help him dance with the Salsera from a foreign land?

"I must speak true Dance Mentor, for if I am to dance with the maiden who treads flames, I must have the dance skills to avoid being shamed. Tis true I now have the clothes for such a souree, but I must also have the sexy moves to dance the night away."

"I need to have some dance lessons by a man known only by few, of he said to have moves that make all the maidens swoon. Do you know of whom that I speak, the true Sultan of Salsa that has wings for feet?"

"Indeed I do," quote DM. "You speak of a man from the distant Nueva York who dances like the wind, none other than the Saint of Salsa, the legendary Boriken."

"That is who I wish to teach me the moves," said the young SD. "My second wish is to have him show me how to groove."

"You ask for much my son, for the Saint Boriken is said to have dance cards filled for generations to come...many women travel the world far and wide, just to drool and stand at his side. But as you have decreed again my son, such as you have wished, so it shall be done."

Pulling out a set of conga drums, the great DM started to play. Soon the magical drums beat out a melody of Afro-Cuban rhythms, and then before their eyes, a man appeared who danced with the wind itself, and the wind danced with him.

"I bid you greetings, young Sultan to be," said Saint Boriken. "Now as you have spoken of your truest heart, I shall teach you the moves that will set you apart. You will be the King of Salsa Kings, drinker of the sacred agave..lover of the ladies and the master of the clave."

Standing next to the stunned young SD, the Saint Boriken began to clap his hands, while the great DM played out a medium tempo Salsa.

"Now then amigo, move your hips like..."
 
"Now then amigo, move your hips like..."

…the stars of a clear night, with soul at had, and body at a distance. Think of thy self as the wind itself. Mourn not the passing of thy moves, but the beginning of tis new world. For the clave of a slow tempo salsa can not mean the world without the meaning of love itself.

Close your eyes and feel the beating heart of the slow salsa transcended by the clave, become my words not as I say them but as you perceive them. Dance not with me, nor for me, but for it all. Allow all to become the flowing river of passion every women desire out of the embrace of a man. Stop not when you find you, but when you become the music, her, and togetherness until the disappearance of a world becomes the form of passion, the manufacture of your every move. Worry not about the movement of thy body but the movement of thy soul towards an utopian world only reachable through the understanding that imperfection is the perfection achieved through the love of he who becomes love itself.

Be her, understand her, allow her to join you in world of passions for whose moves’ can only gain shape in an utopian land. The land in which raining king is LOVE and most devout advocate PASSION. Worry not about what will be… For you are already all that can be, for you have reached King love from knowing that even a peon too is King of LOVE.

On you go… Remember not what I say, but that Love and Passion reign your dance, for they too will reign her dance…

So…
 
We do apologize for the delay in finishing this story. At the moment we are calling an intermission, but rest assured that the faculty of DF Storytellers will be continuing this tale soon enough.

So, go get some popcorn, have a smoke, and look for the next chapter coming soon to a forum near you!

Regards,

ScorpionGuy
 
NEWS FLASH!

Keep an eye open soon for the dramatic conclusion of the DF Fairytale Game! Will the heroic and handsome SD in his new fancy duds get to dance with the Mistress Salsachinita who leaves flames on the dance floor (and is his new suit jacket is fireproof?)?

Will he encounter any competition that the fates deem he must face in order to prove his dancing skills? Are his golden shoes made by Capezio? Does his Fairy Godfather always wear loud red pants? And what is the secret behind the magic purple hat?

Stay tuned to find out the tantalizing answers to these and more mysteries as this dramatic story comes to an end! :P

The Oracle of the Great Wind - ScorpionGuy
 
You mean you never read the part with your cameo appearance? For shame! :roll: :shock: :D

Hmm...we may need to have you in the story again! :P ;)

SG
 
scorpionguy said:
You mean you never read the part with your cameo appearance? For shame! :roll: :shock: :D

Hmm...we may need to have you in the story again! :P ;)
Click to expand...
Yes, most definitely! His Sassy Hipness strikes again!
 
Come on guys! Continue! Please?! Do I have to sick my Evil, Plot-Bunnies on you, or must one of us take up the torch? :D

The Intermission's gone on long enough!
We DFites are sick of the Excuses and Guff!
Will those Elven clothes come out soft and shiny?
Will Boriken shape up SD's hiney?
Is the Fair Mistress Salsachinita waiting in the land of OZ,
Or are her other Suitors taking up her Dancin' Cause?
Will the Cast of Character's stay forever on this eternal Coffee Break,
Or will the Fairy Godfather get them to get up and shake?
Does Sir Sassy Hipness descend down from the heights of Le Mile High,
Will an appreciative Audience in OZ, at the sight of a wonderful Dance, cry?
Hurry up and tell us, O Writer's of Script,
Else we take over and make our own Quips!

:wink: Come on!!! The ice cream's melting, the Smokes are burned up! My Rhyming is done, oh please get on with the Show!

Sakura Kitty :kitty:
 
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