The lights were just dimming as Aethril took her seat. As she finished speaking, the now-familiar crackle of the sound system flared up.

The music started up, and the catchy theme once again began, the bright cartoon imagery dancing across the screen. The faces of the two-person audience would be lit with the garish colors. 'DANGER!!! IT'S RODD DANGER HERE TO SAVE THE DAY...'

But when the introduction faded out, rather than Rodd's opening monologue, the pair of fans were greeted with an ominous fanfare of deafening trumpets, a loud voice narrating the all-caps title that flashed and shuddered black across the red screen:

"THE LAST RIDE OF RODD DANGER!"

This held for a time, before fading with a crash of thunder into the sight of Rodd with his list. "HEY FELLOW HOUNDS! It'd R-O-Double-D DANGER, here again today to hunt down some nasty villains! Who's on the list today?" The paper was raised, the elf cocking one hand on a hip. Cartoon eyes widened dramatically. "Oh, BOY, today we have a real foul 'un! SOMEONE, or maybe a few SOMEONES, has been stealin' food from stores in Orion-! -Now imagine that, lettin' your fellow Hounds go hungry out of greed?! We're gonna get 'em, folks, and SHOW THEM JUSTICE! ARE YOU READY?"

Canned cheering roared through the theatre as Rodd readied his whip, taking on a heroic pose.

___________

The scene faded into one of travel: Rodd plodding along (barefoot; why it was called a Last Ride was anyone's guess) into the star-speckled cave of Orion. It was dramatized, simplified, the quartz reflections flashing and glinting brightly in the background.

"Now, the first thing we gotta do," and here Rodd came into frame, again, striding jauntily toward a cluster of supplies guarded by two large, canine-looking Valkhounds, "is interview the guards. Maybe they've seen somethin', or maybe--as you well know--we got a traitor in our midst." (A dramatic BONNNNG played.) "Howdy, fellas! RODD DANGER here, to help you track down your food thief," Rodd waved, as he approached. The cache consisted of tied-up animal skins, meat (some still on the bone) hung and laid out, and (far fewer) bundles of plants, fruits and herbs. The two dog-beasts turned to face him, slavering, glowing, and the nearest crept forward in an overly-menacing manner. Then it spoke, cheerful.

"Rodd Danger?! I'm a big fan!" (Light laughter and applause played to the sight of Rodd, close-up, winking and thumbs-upping to the audience!)

"Haha, isn't everybody?! But that's great, son; now can you tell me about these thefts?"

"Someone's been stealin' our meat!"

Rodd laughed. "Well, I figured, buddy! Gimme the details, huh?" The camera closed in on Rodd winking again, and more canned laughter filled the air. What a silly Valkhound!

The scene shifted again, as the guard began to speak; it was a slow pan over rather hastily-painted scenery as described... "Oh-! Well, every time it comes, we get this weird... minty smell all around. It ain't a smell we've ever smelled in these parts," (and was the Valkhound imitating Rodd's speech? A true fan!) "They leave pawprints, but there's been a few different sizes. We left some, over there. But that's all we've got. We never see them coming! We've had to guard the stash constantly for the last two weeks."

"Tsk... greedy fellers. Don't worry, Hounds--we'll get 'em! Come on," and Rodd was gesturing to the viewer, inviting them to join his search.

___________

Loud fanfare faded into slow, suspenseful music, as the cartoon images (hastily painted, again, and jittering here and there) depicted Rodd creeping along the ground. He touched the dirt, rubbed his fingers in it, sniffed it. "We got sign, Hounds," and his voice was quietly excited. The music kicked up a notch-! High-pitched strings, now, wavering tensely atop the ominous bass. A close-up cartoon footprint was shown: many-clawed, large, with what looked like an imprint of scales. "And I smell that minty goodness. I wonder if that's a plant that only grows in one par-tic-u-lar cave?" he mused aloud, looking straight into the 'camera' as he spoke.

"Think about that, Hounds, and we'll be right back after this break..."

___________

As if to give Aethril and Pollen time to digest the first part of the show, a commercial roared into life instead. It played, likely in the background of any conversation they might have for one another: a noisy suggestion to DON'T BE LIKE THE FOOD THIEVES: CONTRIBUTE FOOD TO YOUR LOCAL SUPPLIES! REWARDS FOR POWERFUL HUNTERS; BENEFITS FOR OUR BEST GATHERERS! -with, of course, cartoon depictions of all of the above.

Oblivious to the drama in the seats, the inexorable tread of goofy cartoons marched on.

"AND NOW WE RETURN TO... THE LAST RIDE OF ROOOODDD DANGER!"

The scene that flashed into existence now--crackling with age, but brightly-colored--was that of Rodd paused, on one knee, fingertips brushing the snow. The tunnel ahead of him, exposed by a widening circle around him (nothing but black around it, until the screen was all cartoon again) was broad, snow-swept and studden with boulders, with cartoony whirls of wind sweeping all around. Bad cartoon wind sound effects whooshed and howled around him, but quieted down when Rodd made to speak.

He looked directly at the 'camera.'

"Now, Hounds, what we got here's somethin' tellin'. That minty smell's brought us all the way out here--through two tunnels and a cave, can you believe it? Who knows where they're goin', or how they got past the guards... but we got tracks," he whispered, and turned to gesture down again.

Fingers gestured even as the picture zoomed in: a long, flattened area of snow. "Looks like they were draggin' somethin'! Maybe them supplies..." Rodd suggested, flashing a knowing wink at his attentive audience. He turned and crept forward, and now began the familiar, silly "suspense" music, with its high-pitched strings whining and the occasional bright pluck of single notes.

"Now, the question is, where were they headin'? Looks like they musta been pretty desperate," he added, his voice still quite soft. "But we'll get 'em, Hounds. We-"

Rodd had pulled ahead, as he spoke, until he was some thirty yards off--and now, suddenly, a dark shape crashed down on him from above. It had lain in wait, by looks--atop one of the boulders, hidden in the shadows and by swirling snow, and now it slammed Rodd down into the snow. The pair tangled, grunts and cries not censored as they battled--and the camera began to rush forward, as if whoever was behind it was intending to come help.

Then another shape, from above--and another, each different than the last; some larger, or with more limbs, others with spikes. A total of five of them tangled into Rodd's downed body, and his language abruptly was bleeped out--a string of BEEEPS that rang through the theatre as the shadowy forms fought.

The "cameraman" stopped, and backed slowly away. A pair of glowing eyes swept up from the fight to regard him. "Go. And don't come back. Or we'll kill you," snarled the voice. "Tell everyone that we're in the RIGHT. We're starving, and-" Here, the voice cut out--replaced by a poor imitation. "-we'll steal YOUR food to live. We don't care if YOU starve. It's better that way--less of you to KILL," the imitation said, but the cartoon speaker had already turned away.

Rodd was dragged down the tunnel as the cartoon cut to black.

"AND HE WAS NEVER SEEN AGAIN..." A sad tune began to play, and color flooded back in, with slow flashbacks from all of Rodd's various hunts. Rodd, creeping through a jungle; Rodd, staked out in a pine tree, his trusted whip at the ready; Rodd, frowning as he inspected a riverbank. A narration began overtop it. "For as long as any of us can remember, Rodd Danger was our guardian: the only one standing between us and the cruelty of the Rebels. Honor his memory, Hounds," and this might've seemed a little incongruous with the scenes, now playing, of Rodd tying up and cutting down several of those very Rebels, blood spilling across the rock in gory violence; "and hunt those Rebels wherever you find him. Rodd's out there, somewhere, and he's counting on you..."

A short clip of Rodd, grinning and waving at the audience, was played; and then the image again faded to black.

The lights came up; the show was over. The music trailed away.