"Yippee, another night on the town!" Incon smiled at her friends. Which they couldn't see, due to the Tragic Mask she was wearing.
"Where shall we go first?" MRed asked as they strolled down the Via Bathgirlea.
"How about Reckless Rodent's House of Lark's Tongues for dinner, then on to the Lion Taming Compound for wine and dancing?" mouse suggested.
"5 dinarii says Incon'll ask if we can Lambada," 'Hotep whispered to the others.
"You're on," MRed replied instantly.
Incon turned to her friends. "Hey, guys! The Taming Compound - cool idea! Can we Lamb--"
"AIRBAGGUS! STOP!!"
She was cut off by a middle-aged man in silk robes who ran out of the theatre they were passing and up to them, out of breath. "Airbaggus - there you are! Thank the Gods!" He grabbed hold of Incontinentia's arm and started dragging her inside. "You're on in 5 minutes!"
"Huh?" Before they could stop him, the theatre manager had hauled Incon through the backstage area and shoved her into the wings. MRed, mouse & 'Hotep hastily bought tickets and dashed inside. They were seated close to the semicircular stage.
"We've got to help her!" mouse squeaked.
"I don't see how we can," MRed shrugged, lighting up a herbal. "What's the performance, anyway?"
"'The Plight of Pliny The Elder'," 'Hotep read off his ticket stub. "How good is Incontinentia's historical dramatic knowledge?"
The look MRed and mouse gave him was answer enough.
The lights dimmed, the small quartet of musicians struck up a somber tune. A backdrop displaying the hills surrounding Rome unfurled. The audience quieted.
Nothing happened.
Just as the slight murmers of concern began, they were rewarded with the sight of a masked actor being prodded on stage by a broom handle. He didn't seem too happy to be there. He stood in the middle of the stage, looked around at the audience, tried to dash off. He stopped just short of the spear that suddenly poked out of the sidestage curtains. He wandered back to centre stage, looking terribly lost and confused.
"Airbaggus doesn't seem to be on good form tonight," the person sitting next to mouse commented.
Incon spotted her friends, and dashed forward. "What's the PLAY?" she whispered frantically.
"Pliny the Elder!" MRed replied. "Want a herbal?" She held one out helpfully.
"Save it for me," Incon replied, and returned centre stage. Looking upward, and raising her hands dramatically, she boomed:
"How many of you have seen this play done over, and over, and over? Always the same way?"
The was confused silence from the crowd.
"Tonight," Incon continued, "I propose to deliver the writings of the Great Pliny in a...new, innovative way. And for this, I will need a volunteer from the audience. Anyone?"
Mouse, MRed and 'Hotep immediately sat on their hands.
"You, sir!" Incon pointed to a gladiator seated stage right. "Would you be so kind?" The gladiator started to shake his head, but was egged on and hooted by the party of friends he'd come with. He sheepishly stepped onto the stage, grinning at the smattering of polite applause and cheers from his mates.
Incon whispered something in his ear. He nodded. She then trotted over to the musicians, had a quick word. They all nodded. She returned to the gladiator.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, "I give you The Trials of Pliny The Elder. Using Interpretive Dance!!"
On cue, the band struck up some very familiar music. Incon and the gladiator started swivelling and swaying around the stage.
"She can't be," mouse gasped.
"I don't believe it..." 'Hotep muttered.
"You're kidding me, right?" MRed inhaled deeply. "She's portraying the Life of Pliny - using the *LAMBADA*??!?"
"Any ideas on how we can get her off the stage before she's rushed by an angry mob?" mouse asked.