THE BRONZE AGE(We see a village. Its people are dying from some manner of plague.)
Villager : Oh, who will help us?
(A rider comes through, his face masked)
Rider : I will, my good fellow. Here, these herbs should help get you folk back in the pink!
(The herbs are passed around; The cure is rapid)
Villager : Oh, sir! However may we repay you?
Rider : You need not, old father. For helping the weak and downtrodden is merely in a day's work for--The Four Horsemen Of The Genesis!
Villager : But that would make you.....
(The Rider unmasks; Its Kronos)
Kronos : Yes. I am the one who is called...Panacea! I seek cures to all man's ills! Now...I RIDE!!!!
Villager : Oh, Bless and keep the Four Horsemen!
(Kronos rides on, and joins up with the others, engaged in battle with bandits)
Silas : Keep back you fiends! Else you'll find that Pax packs a wallop!
Caspian : Anything to get your nose out of the scrolls, brother! You are too much the eggheaded intellectual for my tastes. Come now, bandits! Cornucopia may be a vegetarian, but my fists have enough meat to fry your bacon!
Silas : Would that I could keep my calm, even in battle, like my beloved brother Caspian does. Is there no limit to his reserves of patience and serenity?
(The bandits are routed on the right flank by Methos, who is protecting some children)
Methos : Run, little ones! Remember that you are our future! Now—for you vicious cutthroats.
Bandit : Flee! That's the best fighter of the bunch! That's----Life!
Methos : That's what all the people say.
(Kronos rides up, takes charge of the prisoners)
Kronos : Now, see that they're treated humanely. Make an offer of a meal and a horse, if they'll just go home and forget this bandits' life.
Silas : But brother--we'll simply have to fight most of them again. You are too generous, I think. I say--put them in a prison.
Methos : Now, Pax. We shouldn't have to remind you. If even one of them turns away from this existence, then it was all worth it.
Caspian : Besides, we have greater worries. Those were no mere bandits. They were in the employ of The Makled Clan Of Southern Caledonia, the fiercest barbarians ever to walk the Earth.
Kronos : You don't mean----
All : THE LOWLANDERS!!!!
All : Buh-Buh-Bum!!!
Methos : And there they are!
Silas : Oh, No! Its both Connqueror and The Dunnking.
(Up on the hill, their horses' lined with human heads, are the Makleds)
Connqueror : What say we kill these fools by category? I like a clean, thorough shave!!!!!
(Swings his sword around wildly)
Dunnking : Nahhh. Takes too long. I say, just kill em' all, and let Ahri--what's his face sort em' out!
Connqueror : I like the way you think, Dunnking. Can we count on Wretched Ryon's support for this battle?
Dunnking : Dunno. He's so blasted tricky.
Connqueror : Eh---he is The Oldest, after all. BEGIN THE ATTTAAACKKK!!
(Just then, a giant boulder blocks off the bandit armies)
Man : More death and destruction, Connqueror? I Don't Think SO!
(Methos sees a tall, muscled titan)
Methos : Why, it is our ally, Kurgules!
Silas : Surely his strength will win the day.
Kronos : Maybe for once, I can sit out this battle. I grow so weary of it all.
Kurgules : You and The Dunnking return to land-locked Britian, Connqueror! This is your first warning--ten more will follow.
Connqueror : Never! What good's life if you can't ruin someone else's?
Dunnking : Besides---There's lots of unwilling wenches I haven't kissed, just yet. I may even tongue-kiss some of them.
Methos : He's just so insensitive.
Kronos : You knew the job was dangerous when you took it, Brother!
Connqueror : Ride over the boulder!!!
(Suddenly, Kurgules and The Horsemen are fighting a desperate holding action)
Dunnking : We almost have them. I want mine to be the hand that tosses them into our dungeons for as much as ten years! BWAAHAHAHAHAHA----sorry.
(A yelping, war-whooping female voice breaks through)
Cass : Stay away from the men who reformed me from my evil ways! So swears Cassandra, Warrior Princess!
Methos : Glad to see you, my dear. I owe you an Omellette!
(But another female now joins the Makleds)
Woman : Well, well, well--if it isn't the sickeningly good-hearted Cassandra!
Cassandra : Amandsto? Did you dye your hair? It looks great!
(Again, the battle turns toward the Bandits; But Silas espies a friendly army)
Silas : Ho! It is Lacroix and his Children Of The Sunlight! We are saved!
Connqueror : Not those garlic-eating religious maniacs!
(At the top of the hill is Lacroix, who turns to the audience)
Lacroix : You can leave now, folks. From here---it only gets sillier.