The Carriage of the Gods

<snip>A nearby Archiver gently adjusted something which looked suspiciously like a cattle prod.
Justin giggled... "Well? Snap to it!"
Ridiculous lute music began to play...
<end snip>
“There is absolutely no way that we're...” Seymour shouted, but looked around and saw Phi already dancing, under duress of course, which she didn't look too happy about. Whitewolf spat him out and Seymour stood, or balanced on the floor with no legs to hold him up. Whitewolf started dancing next, after several electric shocks up his stubby tail.

(I'm sure you can imagine what a hamster dancing looks like, but if you can't here's a creepy advert I saw recently )

“There is absolutely no way that I am dancing!” Seymour yelled, “I used to be a Royal Ambassador, and Managing Director of the...” An electric chock hit him in the armpit, forcing him to flail his arms around and rock his legless body.
“He looks like a weeble!” Justin said, and cried with laughter.
After that, Seymour got angry and demanded he be lifted back into his wheelchair. Jay allowed it, and the Cleric known as “Bill” brought it, after some sort of unnecessary blessing. Seymour quickly took his leave of the room as fast as he could, almost burning tyre marks into the floor, if he had the upper body strength (which he didn't).

He found a small room with a stained glass window that allowed him to look through out into space. Through the glass rendering of Justin's bare asscrack he spotted the Blue Dwarf slowly coming closer in the distance.
“Finally!” He said with delight, and held up his watch, pressing a few buttons. Static replaced the Roman numerals and then Holly appeared.
“Ahh, Mr Holly, I'm jolly glad to be back in range. Have you got anything to report?”
“Wot? Err... nope.”
“Nothing at all? Did you miss us at all?”
“Why? Where've you gone?”
“We went to the planet you fool,, then were kidnapped by the Eniram, then escaped but only into the hands of some religious nutcases called the 'Archivers'. I've been made to dance, and pretend that I like Mr Pancake. I cannot stand being here any longer.”
Holly was silent, which frustrated Seymour. “Normally in conversations it's polite for the second person to contribute something too.” He exhaled with annoyance. “Look, as irritating as this conversation is, it's still nice to talk to someone else, the chaps here have let this 'god' delusion go to their heads, it's making them utterly unbearable.”
“Oh, I have got something to tell you. The rodents have taken over the Promenade.”
“Eww, sounds horrid.” Seymour cringed.
“Actually they've opened all the shops.”
“Even the coffee shop and tea rooms?”
Holly nodded.
“Well, I'm impressed, but I'm not sure I'd trust a filthy rat to prepare my Earl Grey. What if there's a big hairball in it? It's bad enough standing near Whitewolf when he's scratching.”
Holly's eyes started to glaze over, and Seymour could tell he'd lost interest. So he wrapped up the conversation and went back to the 'gods', although he refused to call them that.

“Chaps.” He said deliberately annoying the clerics. “It looks like we're docking with the Bleu Dwarf soon.
“You mean, the carriage of the Gods?” Said one of the clerics.
“No, I mean the Blue Dwarf. The heap of rusted blue metal out there.” Seymour said, pointing to the stained glass window. Even the gods agreed with him that it's impossible to put any grander status on their mothership.

Seymour pushed himself up to Cass, who was reclining on a golden recliner, sat between Jay's legs. “Miss Jones, may I trouble to ask you a favour? I know you have a way with these people, they have such great technology, would you ask them if they could give me some new legs? You see, this wheelchair isn't very stylish and my favourite pinstripe suit doesn't fit anymore.”

<Tag - Cass, can the archivers give Seymour some new legs?>

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