Plink

Plink.

Plink

Plonk.

Why is it that dungeons always have to be moldy? And wet? With water dripping? Why do they have to be populated with rats, and leering guards who never clean their teeth? Is there some kind of unwritten rule, a secret code of evil tyrants that states: Your prisoners must not only be restrained in the most uncomfortable fashion, but they will not take your threats seriously unless you have two-and-a-half-foot-long rodents to skitter across their feet while you make your mocking, gloating speech...

Plink.

I hate cellars. Dark, dank, smelly . . . I would never go down into the cellar, not even to get out that nut bread Mother had promised me. So it just figures that whenever I end up imprisoned somewhere, it's a bloody cellar.

Plink.

Oh, it's not that I'm really worried that I won't get out. I mean, Xena told me to wait here. Which means she'll be back for me any day now. And, when she doesn't find me waiting in the tavern, she'll start asking questions. It won't take her long to figure out where I am. But in the mean time, I'm stuck in this damn cellar.

Plink.

Plunk.

Well, I suppose it could be worse. I could be sharing a cell with that drooling idiot over there who keeps trying to catch the rats so he can eat them and use their tails to weave small baskets. I wonder what he keeps in the baskets? Then again, I doubt I really want to know.

Plink.

Where IS she? You'd think she'd be back by now . . .

Plink.

I wonder how long it's been. Really no way to measure time down here. I don't think the locals ever sleep. What could she be doing, to be gone so long? I wonder if she's found another old flame to share her bed? Romping with wild abandon while I ROT here in the cold bloody dark!

Plonk.

Maybe she's been hurt. Lying alone on some dark field, no one to care for her, an arrow wound festering until she's so feverish she can't even see . . .

Plink.

Damnit, she's just playing with me to see if I can get out on my own. Well hell if I'm going to give her the satisfaction. She can just march right down here and get me. It's her fault I'm stuck in here anyway.

Plink.

Where is she?

Plink.

I remember this one time, when she thought I wasn't awake, I saw her touching herself, moving under the blankets. She was so beautiful, in the moonlight. I could hardly keep my breathing even, just watching her. Hands roving, stroking, I wanted to get closer, but I knew if I moved she'd know I was awake. Not that I didn't want her to know I was awake. Gods, I wanted her to know . . .

Plonk.

Damnit, the guards aren't even bringing us any food. I'm so HUNGRY. I may starve to death before she gets around to getting me out of here.

Plink.

It's been a million years. She's just going to leave me here. After all, she never did want me around. No, from the beginning she's been looking for a way to get me to go away, and now she's found it. She's just gonna stroll on down the road and never look back.

Plink.

She'll be here. Where is she?

Plink.

I wonder if she ever saw me, the way I saw her? Down in the stream, supposedly bathing. She could have followed me. I wonder if she ever wondered what was taking so long. She never asked. Maybe she already knew . . .

Plink.

Damn, there has to be some way to pass the time.

Plink.

No privacy down here. You never notice how much you miss it, until there's some drooling lunatic staring at you all the time . . . by the gods I wish he'd just turn around for ten minutes. . .

Ploink.

Where is she?

Plink.

When she gets here to get me out, I have half a mind to tell her to go stuff herself. Leaving me here like this. She can take her high and mighty causes, and ride off into the bloody sunset for all I care. I never want to see her again!

Plink.

Plonk.

CRASH Ching, clunk, thud. creeeaaaaaaaaaaak.

"Oh, hi. Nice of you to drop in. I was just . . ."

"Yeah, I'm sure you were. Come on, this way."

Rustle.

Crash.

Thud.

"How did you get yourself thrown in jail, anyway?"

"Uuhh, well, it's kind of a long story. I'll tell it to you when we make camp tonight... "

"Gabrielle,"

"Yes?"

"Listen, next time I'm out of town for a day and a half, try not to get yourself thrown in jail, all right?"

"Sure. Right. No problem. I didn't much care for it in there, anyway .. ."

Pause.

Double take . . .

"A day and a half?"

"Yeah, about that."

"That long, huh? Gee. Seemed like no time at all . . . . . . . ."

THE END

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