<font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">*Shadows danced back and forth along the rough-hewn walls of the ancient passageway as Sarn followed Dormouse deeper and deeper into the underground lab. The passageway smelled of mold, and old cheeze its. Occaisionally, different passageways would branch off to the right or left, and Dor would alter course and follow one of them apparently at random. Their path always sloped downwards, and it began to grow warm in the passageway. Finally Dormouse rounded a corner and stopped suddenly. Sarn bumped into him and they both tumbled. When Sarn looked up there was nothing but a blank wall.

Sarn: A dead END??? You led me to a dead end?

Dor (muttering to himself) : That's strange. I couldda sworn that went somewhere...

Sarn: Do you know where we are?

Dor: Not a clue. This should be a perfect spot to begin your training.

Sarn: Uhh. I'm confuzed.

Dor: Of course you are. That's because you are not yet a True Hero.

Sarn: Says who? Look, I've got this!

*Sarn pulls from his cloak a rolled document, and hands it to Dormouse.

Dor: "This is to certify that on this day, blah blah, Sarn_Cadrill has graduated with honors... blah, blah, yak yak... from Gregory's School of True Heroes, and is hereby given the title of Master True Hero, and is entitled to all the benefits and perks contained therein."

Sarn: See?

Dor: Hmm, whattya know? Well that's good that you're already a True Hero.

Sarn: Why's that?

Dor: Because someone's gotta rescue us from an eternity of wandering these catacombs, and it might as well be you. Nice how that worked out, eh, you just happening to be here when we needed you most?

Sarn: Oh boy. I guess we'd better get started. Let's go this way!

Sarn spins wildly on one heel and comes to a rest facing a blank wall.

Sarn: ... Or we could just start going back the way we came.

Dor: Good idea, T.H. Sarn. Perhaps you truly are worthy of your title.

The two walk off down the corridor, which is now slanting slightly upwards, singing and making merry.</font>

<font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">(NSP:I would entitle this post "An Unfamiliar Ceiling", but even I fear the wrath of Gainax.)
*Everything was blurry. Antestarr forced a couple blinks and felt cold moisture roll down his cheeks. The creamy blur started to take shape. Arched ceilings. Mirrors. A bed canopy. Humongous crystalline chandelier. Amidst these new images some background noise droned on. His breathing became much more difficult. It was then he felt the constriction on his throat and the air beneath his feet. The droning became syllabic. Gibberish became language. The world fell into place and he recalled where he was. The constriction on his throat tightened.*

Voice: ... me ask again. Who are you?!

Ante *still groggy*: Nice ceiling...

Voice: I could easily crush your throat right now and be done with you. I've shown more mercy than I normally would for an intrusion. What are you doing here?

Ante: I *wheeze* wanted to know *wheeze* why you have such a better room than *wheeze* me...

*Ante felt himself spun around. He now saw a wall, seeming to grow more distant. Air escaped him in a violent rush as he collided with the opposite wall. Once again staring upward, his eyes fell upon the chandelier. It began to sway back and forth, then started making circles. The crystals melted into steel daggers, as if some kind of abomination from another world.*

Ante: Dang... stupid peyote.... Wait a sec... my peyote was left behind in New Mexico!!

*The daggerlier then started to change once more, assuming the form of a disco ball. It almost seemed to reflect colored lights and carry the echo of "Stayin' Alive."*

Ante: Dalaes... we need to get out of here. Now.

Dalaes: How did you kno...

Ante: NOW!!

Dalaes: Why?

Ante: Unless you want to test the unknown and find it to be excruciatingly painful in lots of nasty nasty ways, I'd suggest just doing it.

Dalaes: And why bring you?

Ante: Because. I'm warning you know, it's dangerous here. I scratch your back, you scratch mine, okay? Now let's get the heck outta here!! *Under his breath* I thought it was still in the theoretical phase...

*Dalaes reluctantly picked Ante up by the waist and approached the door. As he reached for the knob, the entire fixture contorted and reformed as a wicked, grinning, clown face. With nasty sharp pointy teeth. You know the kind. The ones that give you night... er... back to the narration. AHEM Dalaes, stunned by this sudden change, doubled back and leaped for the window. He smashed through and landed in a Blade-like prone position, neglecting Ante, who was now in a toon-like head-partially-in-the-pavement position.*

Dalaes: Hmm... I need to work on my anti-hero-ic efforts...

--------------------

*Back in the room... what was left of the room... a hole opened up and swallowed what appeared to be a monolith. Well, what would have been described as a monolith, had it not been blindingly white.*

*More to come on the NeS Sidestory: The Trouble with Stupid Austrian Hotels... Ok, so it's not as witty as "The Trouble with Tribbles." Someone's not payed enough to be witty all the time...*</font>