

This is a read-only script to compliment the free machinima. No public or private performance rights are released with this script. World of Warcraft names, artifacts, and locations are Blizzard Entertainment property. Storyline dreamt by Mr. Bohemian.

Certain aspects of canon lore were altered for this fan fiction .

Copyright © 2018 The Cotillion by Mr. Bohemian www.TheCotillion.dance All rights reserved. Select icons produced by Freekpik on flaticon.com. Large illustrations produced by toonytoons @ fiverr.com

Stage 1

Level 1

Level 10

Level 20

Level 30

Stage 2

Level 40

Level 50

Level 60

Level 70

Stage 3

Level 80

Level 90

Level 100

Level 110

Stage 4

Level 120

Level 130

Level 140

Level 150

REM

Level 160

Level 170

Level 180

Level 190

Level 200

< The New Accord >

Puck

Peacebloom

Tick

Tock

< Memes For Life >

Sire Jenkins

Huntress Helena

Observer Oston

Cleric Clo

< Les Baes >

Effeminancer Emoish

Smuggler Smiley

Cutter Cutiekiss

Millhouse Manastorm

< The Twilight Terrors >

Yami

Grief

Durer

< The Guardians >

Alexstrasza

Victostrasz

Azuregos

Chromie

Ysera

Dishu

< The Gamemasters >

Gnomestomper

Elfslicer

Orcpuncher

Trollbasher

Taurentipper

< The Whelps >

Kira Songshine, Presto Pete,

Tong, Tenzing, Pi, Po, Pu,

OmniPast, OmniPause, OmniPost,

Allegretos, Andantemu, Vivacimi,

Azshara, Servio, Harry, Drakonid,

Flargle, Gargle, Sid,

Mimiron, Flower, Madam Goya,

Beebo, Millificent Manastorm,

Brewmaiden

# ***

( Ashenvale music. Curtain down. )

Dishu: This was a world born in warcraft. Since her first seeds, she's had to fight for her soil. The elemental lords, the hated unholies, both bound and banished to the ridges of reality. The universal Titans of stone and order moved her mountains and settled her seas. The Great Well churned; life sprang forth. Peace would come, and her children would name her: Azeroth.

Dishu: Never forgetting disorder's conquest, the Titans built cities and constructs to safeguard and facilitate. The world's soul was dreaming, and soon they had been content to let the mortals wake her up. Before balancing new planets, the Titan design was stamped to guide a growing world, the Dragonflights.

Dishu: Regrettably, there is not enough breath in my lungs to tell of the tales of dragonhood. From canon to rumor, history to huffery, it's too much for one tongue at one time. Our lords have blessed as they have blasted, lost as they have lasted. Every conflict out of many has taken a piece from the Great Guardians. Like an aged parent to a growing child, they are tapered and exhausted through the miles of their mission. In the hour of cataclysm, The Wyrmrest Accord relinquished their most precious power: immortality, to rid the world of a bombast brother. In the calming calamity, they had become like their nurslings and entered their final years as mortal beings.

Dishu: My name is Dreamcatcher Dishu, shaman amongst the Cenarion Circle: a band of druids that walk with nature. It has been my quest to learn to walk with them. Though the elements show me their concord, the hymn of harmony is sung sweetest by my Lady's closest kin. They walk within the Emerald Dream: a copy of Azeroth untouched by undoing. No forests have been cut here, no dams have been built, no grass has been stained. Every flourished flower has had her petals painted in the Dream. My Lady Ysera, Queen of the Green and Dreamer of the Dream, lead the land while the land lead her.

( Ysera screams offstage in torture. )

Dishu: But the cycle has been broken. Years past the day that Elune had shed her tear for the Greenmother, something gross grows in the garden. None of the other walkers can hear it.

( Ysera screams. )

Dishu: I had thought this agony to be left with the Legion, nullified with the Nightmare. What is this echo? Their rebirth I have imagined, but never could they reach us in the Golden Eye, less the Dream collapse and we along with it.

( Ysera screams. Curtain up. )

( A beat. )

Dishu: The family flights have met their ends, but could their dreams endure?

( Dishu moves upstage. Puck is sleeping. )

Dishu: Good morning, Prince Puck.

( A beat. Dishu prepares Puck's room with breakfast and luggage. )

Dishu: Prince Puck?

( A beat. )

Dishu: Young Lord, I have set for you the bravest breakfast. Your dragonhawk dumplings are getting gunky.

( A beat. )

Puck: No.

Dishu: A dreamer's end is morning's making. Today is your journey to the waking world.

Puck: Does the waking world have dryads in dozens, ready with moonberry juice and savory sugarplums for me?

Dishu: Nothing at hand but the royal responsibilities of a new king.

Puck: Then goodnight, adieu.

( Dishu moves to the bed. He plants his staff between Puck and his mattress to lever him out of bed. )

( Down topples Puck. )

Puck: Okay!

( A beat. )

Puck: What is the reason for your servitude? None of the other druids can boil my tea. They couldn't cast a fire spell without crying over the bark that burns.

( Dishu startles Puck by whacking his staff on nearby furniture. )

Puck: Okay!

Dishu: Only your servant, boy? In this duty, I have the fortitude of your father. Since you were an eggling have I been here for you. With my two hands did I spare you from the Nightmare clutch. In my two hands did you hatch from your egg. Have you no respect for your dreamcatcher, your life hatcher?

( A beat. )

Puck: I'm sorry, Master Dishu, I'm rough when ripped from reverie.

Dishu: Wake up, young king.

( A beat. )

Dishu: How are the dumplings?

Puck: Good.

( Ysera Screams. A beat. )

Dishu: I heard the fathomless scares of your mother again.

Puck: I'd say it's the woes of veteran druids filling the dreamscape with their marked memories.

Dishu: Most ferals left the Dream during the Nightmare War. You may know well that ferals don't meditate.

Puck: They do, for the term is, "hi-ber-na-tion."

( A beat. )

Dishu: I hear your mother's voice of languish. The spirit she sought to hide you from.

Puck: No bloody beings beheld; a wisp can never lie. Where is this war but within your head?

Dishu: When on the relay to the sister flights we may know for sure. Is your wisp ready for Brown Azeroth?

Puck: The druids have tutored me to tears on her history. Death and decay with life and living sharing the same palette. The Well, the Portal, the pretties versus uglies: war and famine, pain and suffering, the birds and the bees, every blade of grass a lesson, etcetera.

( A beat. )

Dishu: Yes, that is reality in brief.

Puck: Reality? I thought this was reality.

Dishu: This is reality.

Puck: Then... why will I walk away from reality?

( A beat. )

Dishu: To grow up, young king.

( Dishu leaves the table. He retrieves the artifacts. Puck leaves the table to suit up. )

Dishu: Recite to me the red Queen's name.

Puck: Alexstrasza, the Queen of Red and Holder of Heart.

Dishu: Refer to her as "Dragonqueen" to be suited in her court. Your mission is to question the Queen on any new threats that Brown Azeroth may be facing. Learn all that you can about what may be breaching our realm.

Puck: And then?

Dishu: With your return, we will walk through the kingship ceremony. In the Golden Eye, the Garden Gong has long been rung by the senior druids in your mother's absence. In your righteous path will you ring the gong to bring a new day to the Great Garden. Your mother's heirloom I bequeath onto you, [The Morning Mallet], infused with the first breath of a million mornings, may its power raise the flowers wherever you walk.

Puck: I am honored, Dreamcatcher, this journey will be a quick one.

Dishu: We shall see. Like the clouds to the plants, I will be nourishing you from afar. If ever you need my council, fall three drops of [Liquid Clarity] in any body of water. I will be in meditation, always at your call.

Puck: And what will the dryads bring for dinner?

Dishu: I'll follow your optimism and welcome your return. To the Golden Eye we go, and I'll put your body to bed.

Puck: Where will I awaken?

Dishu: From the Emerald Dragonshrine on the Northrend continent. Upon your feet, you will follow the path of the Titans. You will travel north until you reach the Wyrmrest Temple. Your first steps await you. Is the king ready?

Puck: Master Dishu, let us make like treants and leaf this hollow stump.

Dishu: Good king, adieu.

( Exeunt Dishu and Puck. Curtain down. )

# ***

( Elwynn forest music. Players enter. )

Jenkins: Golden Goldshire, we are here. The trees are green, the grass is green: I can identify.

Helena: Sire, who plays a fantasy game and role-plays a human? Lead us to the ice cream parlor and you'll ask for the most vanilla, vanilla.

Oston: And then we'll decorate our mounts in the blandest beige.

Jenkins: Observer... are you sassing your guild master?

Oston: The Huntress was the first.

Jenkins: And yet you sass.

Oston: If then I did, Sire, poke us with this question, "gentlemen and lady, who started this quip?".

Jenkins: Saucy... where did you equip the authority?

Oston: I can say of my rank, that I educate the tank and can foil a flank. You may be the leader of the lead, but I am the rallier of the raids, without which you would have no discretion, and, above all, no gear to swagger.

Jenkins: Fie, stingy words! 'Least I have a spare leg o' chicken.

( Jenkins unsheathes his drumstick. )

Helena: Save your leg, Sire, it's time for a roster call.

Jenkins: Merry, what was the time since our last call?

Helena: Seven minutes.

Jenkins: Merry, in seven follow again.

Helena: Will be well, Sire.

Jenkins: Down the line, Huntress.

Helena: Sire Jenkins, Guild Master of the guild, < Memes For Life >. Guild rank: Top Meme.

Jenkins: That is correct, Huntress, that is correct.

Helena: Observer Oston, guild rank: Raid Counselor McMeme

Oston: Reporting in, m'lady.

Helena: Here I am, Huntress Helena, with guild rank: Secretary of Memes.

Jenkins: Earnestly earned, my lady.

Oston: Nobly noted, m'lady.

Clo: *pfft*

Helena: Conclusively, Cleric Clo, guild rank: Meme-atode

Oston: How much higher with a broken mic?

Jenkins: Clo, speak now or forever hold your rank as a lowly Meme-atode.

( A beat. Clo tries to fix his mic. He can only make the sound of blowing into it. )

Clo: *pfft*

Helena: We are four of four friends online.

Jenkins: Guild, what is our urgent e-mission?

Guild: To find the ultimate nostalgia!

Jenkins: What is nostalgia?

Guild: The dream of a better yesterday!

Jenkins: We chase the days behind us, in hopes that they'll be in front of us...

( A beat. )

Clo: *pfft*

Oston: May I lead, Sire? I found us a quest for today.

Jenkins: Take the lead, McMeme.

Oston: The board here has a bounty in Westfall. The Jansen's Stead is in need of spell and sword. The coastal murlocs are carrying away corn crops. All-you-can-eat Westfall stew is the available award.

Jenkins: That all-you-can-eat makes two quests. Let's beat the bricks, memes. Secretary, will we be back in time for the gathering guilds?

Helena: At noon we'll be if now we go, ere the Leviathan can drive a mile.

( Exeunt players. )

# ***

( Wyrmrest Temple music. Curtain up to Wyrmrest Temple. Drakonid and Puck enter. stage right. Victostrasz enters from stage left. )

Drakonid: Lord Victostrasz, this greenling came from the Dragonshrine to the south. He solicits the Queen for a meeting.

Puck: Greenling?

Victostrasz: You know better than to pester the Queen with the woes of whelps. To the nursery with this one and return to your post.

( Drakonid exits. Victostrasz paces to exit stage right. )

Puck: Whelp? I am the Green Prince, migrated from the Dream to beseech the Red Queen!

( A beat. )

Victostrasz: The Selene Son, arrived in Azeroth? Assuredly, you have an appointment?

Puck: Danger didn't when he took my shaman's peace.

( Alexstrasza enters stage left. )

Victostrasz: Your royalty regarded, the Queen is still quarantined. Your meeting could be managed perhaps a week from now, if fortune favors her Majesty a tidy to-do list.

Alexstrasza: By the Titans, who is this handsome green?

( A beat. )

Victostrasz: My Majesty, are we maids now? Doing our duty about corridors wherever we may, speaking with whomever we may, about whatever we may?

Alexstrasza: Victostrasz, your attitude could use a rope. My duty's sister brings her king, and you have left your courtesy? I heard his heart upon our burg, and yet you thought to hide him from me? No hearth given to this guest, as if not afoot in a dragon palace.

( A beat. )

Victostrasz: Never am I against you, My Majesty.

Alexstrasza: Nor I to you, my significant. Leave us to the top, and I will give this traveler my time. When our evening has ended, furnish his supplies and kindle his heart with some given trinkets.

Puck: Thank you, Dragonqueen.

Victostrasz: By your will, My Majesty; any requests from the prince?

Puck: Warm the smith, good monsieur, my claws could use a parring.

( Victostrasz exits stage right. Puck and Alexstrasza move downstage. Curtain down. )

Alexstrasza: A friend of wit, you are that forest good fellow. I knew you well and first, even within your mother's meditation. The tickling breeze bristled through the trees, that day the king was born. The thistleleaves danced a lily pad trance, that day the king was born. The birds had sung through chuckling lungs, that day the king was born. That trickiest of tempo that flutters the flowers, was yours when you were born.

Puck: I am that merry walker of the Dream. Are you the dawn of this dream?

Alexstrasza: In my mighty modesty, do I strive to be the queen of compassion. Simple is my care. I love this world and all who walk upon it. I hear every heartbeat, be it trogg or troll, cat or mouse. My lot is their leadership. Moving the mortals was easy enough through infancy. Worldly motherhood has since been smooth.

Puck: My Dragonqueen, if I may curiously query: the red position is intervention. Why have so many conflicts been let to bleed? Why not more mediating than meditating?

Alexstrasza: New king... this is a world of warcraft. Were we to step on every occasion my brood'd be buried yesterday. From lessers to greaters, greaters to lessers, the mortals matured to follow their fates. We reds have shifted to the last command, the skew against lawlessness, and the death day detractors. Were this world at her last breath, I would give my heart to save hers.

( Victostrasz entered stage right. )

Victostrasz: My Majesty, Princess is equipped for the evening.

Alexstrasza: Bring her here to meet.

( Victostrasz exits stage right. A beat. )

Puck: Kindest Queen of Hearts, can you hear my shaman's beat? He believes a new force is breaching our realm. Surely something is making him mental.

( A beat. )

Alexstrasza: Your Dreamcatcher is a dignified spirit. I feel him now. He grounds the stirring that slithers to you. He meditates to dampen the dementia.

Puck: What?

Alexstrasza: Your mother had you insured long before the demon elf had planted a seed in her heart. Before the War, your shaman had been shown favor for his spirit purging ceremonies. His soul is a totem linked to yours; redirecting this pressing perplexia.

Puck: Is he mad?

Alexstrasza: Has he persevered in his preservation? Has he kept your thoughts an affluent forest?

( A beat. )

Puck: Where is this echo? How can I lift his heavy heart?

Alexstrasza: I cannot separate the specifics. I can only bring his burdens to bear. This disorder dances deeply.

( A beat. Victostrasz and Peacebloom enter stage right. )

Victostrasz: My Majesty, the Princess of Red.

( Victostrasz exits stage right. )

Alexstrasza: Prince Puck, this is my daughter. May we break to meet this moment?

Puck: I am yours in your temple, Dragonqueen.

Alexstrasza: Princess, would you kindle introduce yourself to the new King of Green?

Peacebloom: My name is Princess Peacebloom. We are honored to have the Selene Son atop Wyrmrest Temple. I am your ready einhander, for you my shield and sword are [Flint] and [Steel]! Our journey is half journeyed with me at your back!

Puck: Journey?

Alexstrasza: Prince Puck, to you I dedicate my daughter for your mission. My last deed for my departed soul-sister.

Puck: You knew this course?

Alexstrasza: I knew you well and first. My flower: she too is ready to bloom. Beginning this day, you both will seek to end the shrieks of your shaman's mind shreds.

Puck: My Dragonqueen, I am thankful for your personal power, but I am only a healer. And where will we walk in this white desert?

Alexstrasza: As I have said, I cannot separate the specifics, but I can direct you to those who may. Our brothers of blue have disbanded, but someone is sure to be in charge of their Nexus. Seek out the Coldarra custodian, and they may supply the means to back-trace this magic madness.

Puck: Coldarra, that is west. Where through is the proper pass?

Peacebloom. Fly with me, Dreamer; I will show you the safest skies!

Puck: A served serendipity, how possible is this but by the Redmother?

Alexstrasza: Strong wings, young king, walk well in our world. I will be hearing you both from home.

Puck: Titans bless you twice, Great Heart of Hearts.

( Exeunt Puck and Peacebloom stage right, Alexstrasza stage left.)

# ***

( Elwynn Forest music. Curtain up. Enter memes. )

Jenkins: My final hypothesis is this: one cannot eat soup, for it is a liquid, but ridiculous to report that one is at the discretion of drinking. Ergo, we should formulate a new word: dreating. For when one consumes soup, they are considered to be eating while drinking at the same time.

Oston: That's... not too bad, Sire.

Jenkins: Nobody is here.

Oston: Perhaps, we are the first. What does the pamphlet say, Helena?

( Enter Kira. )

Helena: "Meme-Con, 2027, Ask the Omnironics! Ritual sacrifices begin in Goldshire Square at noon, October third through October fifth."

Oston: No others are ready for the ritual.

Jenkins: Look, she made it!

Helena: Sire, that's no one but Kira Songshine, the Elwynn Forest bread vendor.

Jenkins: Hello! Are you here for the Omnironics too?

Kira: Hello, I supply only the finest goods!

Jenkins: Oh, wow.

Oston: I have tested your bread, temptress. Against my health pool, it would take approximately two days, sixteen hours, thirty-seven minutes, and forty seconds of back to back stuffing to saturate my stats with your loathly low level loaves.

( A beat. )

Kira: Fresh bread for sale!

( Kira exits. )

Jenkins: Ouch, Oston; he loses the ladies with his numbers.

( Enter < Les Baes >. )

Oston: How null with my numbers?

Helena: Numbers are not always the nemesis, Oston. Having that high arena ranking may sway some swans to swoon.

Emoish: Gentlemen, can you confirm with me that this is Goldshire? Most of us are Horde-borne and have trouble with the particulars of this side of the Eastern Kingdoms.

Jenkins: In Goldshire you stand, my lady. May then I mention, what an honor it is to dance with the Horde on the same mailbox. The "Make Love Not Warcraft" expansion of two thousand nineteen was my favorite cultural cleansing.

Emoish: That year I had a desperate downturn in soul shards, but yay. For now we do frolic hand in hand under the same dullened rainbow.

Jenkins: Yes mam, shadows shroud the Banshee Queen.

Emoish: And let light lead your boy king. Are you here for the ritual sacrifice?

Jenkins: On standby for sacrifice, we are < Memes For Life >. We come from the realm of two thousand seven. Through all sixteen expansions, we've been on quests, questing for the Great Quest. My lasting lieutenant is here: Cleric Clo. When my heart had heart, we were chill in church, purging the Plaguelands by Light's Hope Chapel. By benevolence, he bears the [Benediction Reborn: Staff of a Thousand Wipes].

( The champions display their weapons when announced. )

Clo: *pfft*

Jenkins: Now careful with Clo, before his blessings he walked a ruder road. Cross our cleric and you may see [Anathema Arisen: Staff of a Thousand Ganks]. Having stolen the arena, this night-shadow was never nerfed.

Clo: *pfft*

Oston: Next hero in our history is the Huntress Helena. An astounding archer from the Astranaar Army.

Helena: Elune-adore, I have harnessed her [Heaven's Bent]. No fiends fly through me, no gargoyle given skies, no daemons defile ground, every true-shot's 'tween the eyes!

( A beat. )

Emoish: Elune... is that the one who fortifies those water fountains?

Helena: What, the moonwells, witch?

Jenkins: Ladies, ladies.

Oston: Sire Jenkins, a notable necrolyte, he was vexing when he was alive. Always pulling out of place. That trait proved tragic atop Icecrown's Citadel. In initiation his guild had gone, regretting repeatedly their ridiculous repairs. Alone he pulled, and alone he perished. The Lich Lord laughed, this proclamation he put; "You. You will be my fool." "You will raise me memes to the unlife, and in my kingdom they will have no end." "No matter the date, nor degree, nor irony, along my nightmare they will walk." "My Memecromancer, you are unborn." T'was the day the paladin became a death knight, charged [The Arcanite Reaper] to unend his unmemes.

Emoish: What about you, Worgen? House Greymane or House Battleborn?

Jenkins: The guild needed a raid counselor. We posted for a raid counselor. We received a raid counselor. The Observer observes with [The Dungeon Journal]. Now ladies, what place did you pamper from?

Oston: Wow, Sire.

( A beat. )

Emoish: An interesting ensemble. May we give ourselves as such. We are the four of < Les Baes >. Here we have Smiley the Smuggler. When she was a sophomore at Eversong High, her parents were sunk while sailing at sea. It was the trouble of Captain Rusty, The Robotic Pirate Squirrel who scurries his squabblers across The Great Sea. This cheerless cheerleader gathered her poms, [Wam] and [Bam], and headed from home. Through our Cleft of Shadow communion will her parents' vengeance be met.

Helena: Careful with that Cleft, it's the one wing where the Sunwell won't shine.

Emoish: Here now is Cutter Cutiekiss, Sen'jin's frontline warforged warrior. Beforehand a humble house wife, merrily, with a treehut. Infidelity rocked the cradle, caught her troll snogging a murloc. By Orgrimmar law, could she chop her husband in the Ring of Valor. Her weapon is no armament but her lover's pieces. With violating voodoo does she wield [The Randomizer].

Helena: Holy heaven.

Jenkins: Oh, wow.

Oston: Where have you been, blood elf?

Emoish: I am Emoish the Effeminancer, Madam of my Baes, veteran of the Outland Legion. Flourished in the Durotar common space, my guild aged as well through sixteen expansions.

Oston: Didn't you mention four in your crowd?

( Enter Millhouse. )

Emoish: Should I estimate three and a half, I'd be precise.

( Millhouse struggles with many rolling carry-ons. He wields the [Staff of Dominance]. )

Millhouse: Ladies, perhaps the postmaster could carry some cases?

Cutiekiss: Negative, gnome, we would be too far from our fashions to quest comfortably. We adventure a-la-mode.

Emoish: You play a pivotal role in keeping us kept, keep keeper.

Millhouse: I am very excited to be with you, ladies. This luggage is only as sweating as my Armageddon fever!

Cutiekiss: May I punt the runt, Madam? He would land in Quel'thalas from here.

Emoish: Patience, Axe-Master, the little serpent is earning his Baehood.

Oston: Is that the Doom-Dinger, Millhouse Manastorm?

Millhouse: Verily, I am that day of DOOM!

Oston: Last I studied, you were spotted in the Chocolate Expansion, during the Coco-chip encounter, at the behest the Chaps of Chocolate.

Millhouse: Many a cult I have experimented, from Twilight to Scourge, Legion to Chocolate; none at all fatal by the end of their ropes. In a drought, I scrounged for a scoop of doom, deprived of devil doings, derailed from my destiny. In the unspired wing of the Cleft of Shadow, I saw these Baes in brunch, dialoging delicately upon a coffee and crepe combo.

Emoish: Of Silvermoon origin, our roster requisites are casual vindication upon casual vanity. He had heart, but not "The Bae."

( Emoish unsheathes her contract. )

Emoish: We had preserved the parameters of "Bae" and reserved our rights to reject. For fie, my imp had errored in the deepest derivation of the critical condition. Page six, section six, paragraph six, "The 'Bae' word's worth, is a combination of the qualifiers, 'cute' and 'petit.'" Gnomes, by diabolical duplicity, qualify these qualifiers and alas, Millhouse.

Millhouse: Oh buttons, you say I'm Bae, Madam?

Cutiekiss: Never Bae in my book.

Emoish: Give heart, Lady Lacerate, for anyone who can counter a warlock's contract is either sent to The Nether in ashes... or given a waived application.

( Kazoos play. The Omnironics enter. More ensemble characters crowd the scene. )

( A beat. ).

OmniPast: Across the Internet, we have been, we are, and we will be, Omnironic. All Internet flows through us. Since the beginning boot we've been the Benevolent Modems. In these rituals, we bring our power to the players. Make yourselves known to us; to you we'll vest our vision. Who of heroes will forward first?

Jenkins: < Memes For Life > steps to, Noble Neckbeards. What would you have from us?

( OmniPast retires. OmniPost steps forth. A beat. )

OmniPost: Leeroy Jenkins, the Bane of Blackrock Mountain. My bandwidth had bounced the day you went viral. Back to these badlands, I will charge you. With level sixty swords you will quest with. Retro-raiding on a black dragon, Pyromus of Thisforge, his head hesitant to split. He irks the Blackrocks with loudly flapping while locals lay napping. No local government has either offered to fit them with soundproof windows. This then done, I will reward you well.

Jenkins: Noisy newt, we will chase your challenge! On foot, we'll follow to Lakeshire, then through the pass we'll pass. Memes, let's go; ladies, stay pretty.

Helena: Keep your eyes on the minimap, Sire.

( Exeunt Memes. OmniPost retires, OmniPause steps forth. A beat. )

OmniPause: This guild gathered is < Les Baes >, is it not?

Emoish: Never in ignorance, O' Omnirific.

OmniPause: Effeminancer, I've seen your means. Far from your first sacrifice.

Cutiekiss: Merely a Monday for Madam.

OmniPause: No beginners in brawl, no newbies by night, in the shadows you will serve me, in return you'll see my sight. [The Outlawed Eclair] was the first food powdered and packed with Kel'thuzad's plague. It has since traveled by Bronzebeard boat to Darkmoon novelty. The ship was seized, the crew fed to Azshara, the sweet then sold to Madam Goya. Bid, buyout, or pin the Pandaren black market. Then pass to me the popular pastry.

Emoish: I know where the black mist blows. We will grace the Madam with a visit. Baes, we go.

( OmniPause steps back, exeunt Baes. A beat. )

OmniPast: These players have e-spirit, but do they possess the gigabytes to bear the burdens ahead of them?

OmniPost: They will send themselves to success; they all will. Presently, I perceive it.

( Kazoos play. Exeunt Omnis. Curtain down. )

( End of Stage 1.)

# ***

( Coldarra music. Curtain down. Puck and Peacebloom enter. stage right )

Puck: Dragonqueen, may I ask: why do you walk in the form of a blood elf?

Peacebloom: The high elves are a forgiven race. They were my first lesson in mortal flux. From Kaldorei to Sin'dorei, their history is an unending undulation. In their coldest clutches, they found themselves fetished with fel. Though neglecting the naaru, they were still were shown mercy, and now the sun shines in Silvermoon City. Why do you keep the Kaldorei costume?

Puck: I envy the ears, sideways and swift. But really, the eldest druids that walk the Dream are night elven kin. The children of the stars make for excellent dreamers. To this day, Elune continues to kiss their conscience.

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: The Arcane Augmenter was killed in these halls. The blue flight no longer carries the currents here. Be on your guard.

( Karazhan opera house music. Curtain up. Azuregos is painting a portrait. )

Peacebloom: Dragonflights?! Any blues on board here?!

Azuregos: Yes, ma'am, there is no need to holler through these halls.

Puck: Greetings, we are the dragons of the New Accord.

Azuregos: Ah, yes, more problems. The Accord is perpetually pitching for volunteers. Now door-to-door soliciting is the song of their plight?

Peacebloom: Are you the only frost drake attending to Coldarra's state of magic?

Azuregos: I water the trees in the Singing Grove too. The crystalline garden is so beautiful this time of year.

Puck: What blooms here? It's always cold in Coldarra.

Azuregos: Isn't it dreadful?

Peacebloom: Big Blue, we're trying to trace a treacherous magic. Can you aid us?

Azuregos: Magical mischief, why not knock the Kirin Tor door? They call themselves the mighty magocracy. I'm only a blue dragon. I've only been studying the stupendous many a millennium before their Wizardopolis was crushed like a sand castle. And then they have the head to come here and negate the Nexus in exchange for a sip of its saturate. It's like an alcoholic taming a temperance group in exchange for a jug of wine.

Puck: How long have you been dipping in this dripping dungeon?

Azuregos: Longer than I'd like, little lizard.

Peacebloom: Leyweaver, what is that divine instrument in your claw? Your brush pulls from one pigment, but your portrait is a palette.

Azuregos: When I had found myself babysitting this icebox, I began opening the archives the ethereal thieves could not crack. Tomes of infinite vision, weapons of mass destruction, and crystals of infinite energy are such a casual collection here. The Master seemed to mix the monotony with a toy, [The Arcane Envoy], a delightful dipstick. A brush that paints with the power of planetary alignment.

Puck: Envoy, why is the brush an envoy?

Azuregos: The picture painter is a dedicated deliverer. He will stop at nothing to incarnate his ideas. The arcane is a peculiar pigment. Epochs before the Kirin Tor could finger paint, we blues were signing a masterpiece. [The Arcanomicon] ( are-cah-kno-mi-con ) is the artifact you need.

( Azuregos moves to the Arcanomicon, a magic machine. )

Puck: Thank you, Leyweaver.

Azuregos: No thanks yet, little lizards. I'm not going to boot the boy up until I'm served in return.

Puck: Is there left no urgency to uphold your fellow flight? Where is the giving the Great Guardians were gifted with?

Azuregos: Deliberating your doorbelling instead of arming my wards was gift enough. I am to bow down to the red, to the green, to the bronze, and let them leave with half my furniture with the kiss of goodwill to do by?

Peacebloom: A fair trade to know our enemy. We will meet your means, Leyweaver. What will you want from us?

Azuregos: Though I despise those woeful wizards of the hubris habitat, Dalaran, their marketplace of magic makes reagent collection many leagues less in legwork. Here is my shopping list.

( Azuregos hands his rolled list to Puck. A beat. )

Puck: What about gold?

Azuregos: I trust you aspiring young aristocrats have a royal trust fund to access.

Peacebloom: My brood will bear the balance. There will be no doubt in debts for now.

Azuregos: Here's a tip for your war task. If you wish to doorbell the bronze, you may do so in short time through the Dalaran portal room. This will save your campaign time. The mortals see it safe to maintain many portals in close proximity. This, as if the orcs of Dreanor have no cautionary comments about unwinding reality for commutable convenience.

Peacebloom: An excellent step, Puck. The bronze have always had something to spare in dragon relations.

Puck: Any addition to our coalition will be welcomed.

Azuregos: A word of warning regarding the bronze. Time is a troubling magic. Though chrono-casting is a simple stream of arcane, the Titans were wise to team a troupe for time-turning. In your days, you will never meet a dragon quite like a bronze dragon. All I may attribute, they are approximate in the mind, but precise in their work. Never long wonder their wits, lest you find yourself sunk in the sand.

Peacebloom: Our heads are well-heeded. Your shopping will be done.

Puck: Big Blue, adieu.

( Exeunt Puck and Peacebloom. Curtain down.)

# ***

( Pandaren tavern music. < Les Baes > enter in evening dresses. )

Emoish: We have arrived, Baes. This tavern in the mists is where the pandas profit.

Millhouse: Madam, may I ask, are ladies suicidal when they wear high heels? The ankle snapping and body twisting is real.

Emoish: Yours are extra high, Millhouse, your bra extra stuffed, and your other lady lackings extra compensated. These callused men hold a high standard for evening entertainment. We will serve them our mainland motherhood to bring out the eclair.

Millhouse: Anything for doom, Madam. Anything for doom.

Cutiekiss: Can we review our routine once more?

Emoish: We will be incognito, whether the Madam is in or out. The girls, and Millhouse, will play with the boys. I will find for myself the alpha boy. I will get what I need and finish the party. After the cue, swab the deck and keep them in a stunlock.

Cutiekiss: How much tussle tonight?

Emoish: I have for us a treat, not a nail will be broken. I was under the Undercity when I picked from the potent patent of [Putress' Procaine]. I need soul shards tonight. Just remember Smiley's stunlock routine and we'll leave the rest to Sargeras.

Cutiekiss: Thanks to you, Madam, our mani-pedis will continue to glow with the glory of the Warchief.

Emoish: Baes, let's go play.

( Curtain up. Pandaren tavern music shifts. The bar turns to < Les Baes >. )

Tong: Ahoy, boys, the mainland ship is in!

( The ensemble of pandas cheer. )

Emoish: Good afternoon, gentlemen. < Les Baes > are here with the pleasure to pleasure. The Pandaren are as majestic as they are mighty. We mainlanders are very charmed by your powerful paws, magnificent mountains, and southern serenades. Which son of Shaohao will show us his tradition?

( Pi slams his drink on the counter. )

Pi: Me!

( The pandas playfully fight for first. A beat. )

Emoish: The rambunctious boy gets the girl. Prettier than all the petals in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, I give to you my splendiferous Spring.

( Emoish hands Smiley to Pi. )

Emoish: A playful pyromancer, she will melt the ice quickly. Let not your pipe be the only spirit lit this evening.

( Pi takes Smiley to a table. )

Emoish: Who is the most sober panda in this zoo?

( The pandas playfully fight. A beat. )

Pu: I am the cheerful chastity of every lorewalker of every library!

Emoish: A sickly soul, I have your prescription writ. Let my witch doctor mix your mind with her masterful mixology. My spicy Summer will sprinkle your spirit with her vials of voodoo.

Cutiekiss: I'll be showing you why trolls are flipping out. Ever taste a troll's mojito?

Pu: I've dreamt a troll's dream once. Do you stir with psychedelic syrups?

( A beat. )

Cutiekiss: We will taste the voodoo.

( Cutiekiss takes a mix kit to her table with Pu. )

Emoish: Who in this bar is the unluckiest lad? We have the season for your serendipity.

Tong: That's Po! Bring him in, boys!

Ensemble: Po, Po, Po, Po, Po, Po!

( The pandas bring Po forward. )

Emoish: Bring your pencil and paper, this class is now in session. When the Fall comes in, so does her schooling. She is here to give you her gracious guidance. An astounding astrologist, she will show you her stars.

Millhouse: The Eye of Algalon is Azeroth's clearest constellation! Some say the Titans still watch us through the starry sight!

Po: Oh, wow.

( Po takes Millhouse to his table. A beat. )

Ensemble: What about Winter? Where is Winter?

Emoish: I am that warm Winter, that seasoned season, but I do not entrance the entourage. Who is the master who will teach the student to meditate?

Tenzing: I am the senior, and you are the seraph.

( The ensemble groans in disappointment. Tenzing takes Emoish to his table. )

Tenzing: Tong, play a piece the wind serpents would whistle.

( Pandaren tavern music shifts. )

Tenzing: My name is Master Tenzing, shadow of the Shado-Pan. I will be your knight in the night. How fast are your drinks?

Emoish: Soberly sorry, my doctor says not to drink while on her medications.

( Cutekiss serves them their drinks. )

Emoish: Thank you, doctor.

Tenzing: The mainland always mesmerizes me. You are a "blood elf," no?

Emoish: Since our Prince's perilous pilgrimage.

Tenzing: The historians say your race plays foul for fun.

Emoish: Sucking on a few fel crystals to dampen our domestic life, the story is mostly misinterpreted. Most want to say we've always preferred fel crystals over a morning coffee. The times did, however, give my magic a new page in her research.

Tenzing: How filled are your pretty pages?

Emoish: I love demons. I love to study them. I'm a master demonologist.

Tenzing: Oh, what's your dictate on those devilish dancers?

Emoish: Demons are very misbehaved.

Tenzing: Do you have any demon blood?

Emoish: I may sling a spell or two without serious side effects. A smooth cigarette keeps all my kinks creased.

Tenzing: Will you share a smoke with me?

Emoish: Merrily, Spring grew for me the tastiest tobacco.

( Emoish packs a pipe. )

Emoish: Tell me about yourself. How late will you wake tomorrow?

Tenzing: At dawn, I shield for the Shado-Pan and at night, I'm here for Madam Goya.

Emoish: I hate the knocking of neighbors. Could we quest somewhere else?

Tenzing: I have the comforts for all your cankers, but this bar is where I sleep tonight.

Emoish: Your lady won't let you leave?

Tenzing: I cannot part from my post. The Madam is out, so someone needs to supervise this bar.

Emoish: Fair for a fun night. I have a special spectacle for you. My lighter plays a parlor trick to cast well a dragon's plume.

( Emoish pulls [The Soulstone] from her satchel. )

Emoish: Your pipe is packed. This orb is a fire starter. Twist your wrist to follow a flame brighter than the hate of Ragnaros.

( Emoish hands Tenzing the pipe and [The Soulstone]. A beat. )

Tenzing: It's not working.

Emoish: Flick your wrists faster.

( A beat. )

Tenzing: The lighter is lightless.

Emoish: Perhaps the fuel has foiled? The smell is silent, could you sniff the sphere and sense if it's seeped?

( Tenzing smells [The Soulstone] layered in [Putress' Procaine]. After losing his soul, his body faceplants the table. )

( A beat. )

Tong: It's a trap!

Pu: Witch!

( The ensemble stampedes out of the bar. < Les Baes > hold their men still. A beat. )

Emoish: Beautiful Baes, the quest is complete. The Madam's treasures are in the tavern.

( Emoish moves to Cutiekiss. )

Emoish: Was this gentleman well behaved, Lady Lacerate?

Cutiekiss: Very virtuous, Madam, this harvest is a heavy soul shard.

Pu: No!

Emoish: Give the good man a kiss goodnight.

( Cutiekiss gives her guest a peck on the cheek. Emoish holds [The Soulstone] to Pu's nose. He collapses. )

Pi: Pu, no! Wretched witch, sha-kissing shadowmancer, I'll cut your ears off and shove them through your maliced mouth, you sin-sucker, you languish-licker!

( Smiley covers Pi's mouth. )

Emoish: This one has a big mouth. Let him speak to the Madam of our tenacious team. Panda, run to your leasher and tell your master < Les Baes > sends the Madam their kindest courtesies. Let her know the girls are borrowing the boys, and that their souls will find their bodies when we're bored of them. Kiss the good man goodnight, Smiley.

( Smiley kisses Pi on the cheek, then releases him. Pi dashes to exit. )

Cutiekiss: Madam, your love is too leveraging. He called you a sin-sucking languish-licker, and now he steps unscathed?

Emoish: The gentleman was rather rude. Smiley, snipe his ankles with your pistol.

( Smiley quickly unsheathes her pistol and aims at Pi offstage. She shoots. )

( From offstage, Pi screams in a burst of pain. < Les Baes > clap for Smiley. )

Emoish: Always a sharp shot, Smuggler.

Cutiekiss: Millhouse held well with a paralyzing spell.

Emoish: Magnifique, Millhouse. Let your spell be undone.

( A beat. )

Millhouse: I'm not casting a spell, Madam.

Po: The twinkle in her eyes contain the luminosity of all the stars of The Twisting Nether strung together. Her feminine grace is a great gravity that holds my heart in her orbit.

( A beat. )

Emoish: The honor is yours, Millhouse, harness [The Soulstone].

Millhouse: Sorry, babe, but the talky-talk of the studio apartment in Stormwind... 'twas a feign. For the Fall you fell for was no fall at all. For it was me, Millhouse Manastorm, the whole time!

( Smiley and Cutiekiss hold Po still. )

Po: But, you had said this fever was forever, Fall. You told me forever!

( A beat. )

Millhouse: I lied to get what I want.

( Millhouse puts [The Soulstone] to Po's nose. Po collapses. )

( A beat. )

Cutekiss: Madam, did you see how quickly the little serpent swallowed the man's soul?

Emoish: Indeed, Millhouse, thoroughly and thoughtfully, you are now and here forward, a Bae.

Millhouse: Hurray!

Emoish: We will see to a ceremony for later. [The Outlawed Eclair] is tucked away in this tavern. Smiley, check upstairs; Cutiekiss, check downstairs; Millhouse, check the Jacuzzi.

( < Les Baes > search the tavern. Emoish cleans up the bar and helps the corpses sleep with comfort. )

( A beat. )

Emoish: Rest well, handsome husks, I am the goodly warlock. I'll put your bodies to bed. I'll handle your hearts with care. I'll kiss the daemons from your dreams, then mend my marks of incantation. If Madam ponders the party we shared, you'll smile softly and tell her this kindly.

( Emoish takes a toke from her pipe. )

Emoish: "Wrought from wit and wrought with wonder, I took a drag that dragged my heart away. Though that wicked witch had stolen my soul, that warm Winter was quite the holiday".

( A beat. < Les Baes > return. )

Cutiekiss: Madam, Smiley found the pastries' chest downstairs. It looks like an easy lock pick.

Emoish: Keep it in the chest. I see we're packing other treasures to the amount that Millhouse can carry.

Millhouse: Madam, when may I graduate from this drudgery?

Emoish: We will always need a keep keeper, keep keeper.

Millhouse: Oh, buttons.

Cutiekiss: Madam Goya will surely mark us for death for stealing her soldiers and shinies.

Emoish: When the boys come to us, half the work is done. My soul shard satchel is never satisfied. Baes, we go.

( < Les Baes > exit. Curtain down.)

# ***

( Caverns of Time music. Enter dragons. )

Puck: The Caverns of Time... the entrance was astounding. Did I see an elven boat on desert dunes?

( The ensemble of bronze dragons march across the stage at various speeds. They carry various props to and from offstage. )

Peacebloom: Lonely and lost, encrusted in the trickles of Tanaris.

( A beat. )

Puck: What are they doing?

( Enter Chromie with a tablet. )

Peacebloom: This cavern is sequestered from time and space. We will do well to follow the flow of the timewalkers. They're the ones with the mental map of this great maze.

Chromie: Allegretos, the prince and princess entered on cue. Why haven't the Maestros crossed the stage yet?

Allegretos: I will beckon them backstage.

( Allegretos power walks to exit. )

Chromie: Vivacimi, your costume is incorrect. There are no humans in Kalimdor during your performance. Get thee into a night elf costume!

Vivacimi: Sorry, Chromie!

( Vivacimi skips to exit. )

Chromie: Andantemu, can you hasten your pace? The Lich King's performance needs more ice. If the Lich King doesn't have more ice, he doesn't become Lich King! It's as simple as that, dragons!

Andantemu: It will be done... in time.

( Andantemu walks to exit. The Maestros enter from both sides of the stage at the same time. Tick carries a medium sized rock while Tock carries a cardboard bush. )

Puck: They're helping the Lich King?

Peacebloom: No, merely keeping him on time.

Chromie: Maestros, house opens in one minute. [The Tablet of Time] says you have thirty seconds to rehearse, then thirty seconds to set the scene. Take these players and go!

( Chromie paces to exit. )

Chromie: Now who moved my water bottle? It's not a prop!

( A beat. )

Tick: Prince and Princess,

Tock: Welcome, to the Concert of Time!

Tick: I'm Maestro Tick!

Tock: And I'm Maestro Tock!

Tick: We are the plural performers-

Tock: -Of the Great Nozdormu's nobility.

Tick: We have no seconds to waste.

Tock: We have no seconds at all.

Tick: Time is rather timeless here.

Tock: But time is always timeless here.

Tick: [The Tablet of Time] introduced your entrance already.

Tock: We understand you came with a cause. All your troubles will be toiled.

Tick: On time.

Tock: [The Tablet of Time] narrates that you will be a part of our next performance.

Tick: Off time.

Tock: For we are the Great Farce Fixers, the Concerto Conductors.

( Curtain up. Zin-Azshari music. The scene is a garden with a bench on stage left. )

Tick: Uh oh, rehearsal is over. Do you understand what to do?

Puck: I'm nervous.

Tock: That's normal.

Tick: That's natural.

Tock: Stand with me behind the bush, dragons. Tick will finish setting the mise-en-scene.

( Tick tries to find the best location for the rock on stage right. )

Peacebloom: Where are we?

Tock: In fair Zin-Azshari we set our stage. Queen Azshara is set to enjoy a typical evening in her garden. [The Tablet of Time] has told us a rogue mage is using unlicensed chrono magic to assassinate the Vainglory. This stunt will ruin the show, and we cannot let it go live.

Peacebloom: What about us? What do we do?

Tock: Act natural, for theater is the art of living. What will come will come, or else we'll have to set the stage again.

( Tick retreats behind the cardboard bush. )

Tick: Ready.

Tock: The Lady that sitteth upon many waters, is cued to come in 3...2...1...

( Queen Azshara enters stage right. A beat. )

Azshara: Who put this rock here?

( She walks around the rock. She sits on her bench and grooms herself. A beat. )

( Servio enters stage right. A beat. )

Servio: Who put this rock here?

( Servio walks around the rock. He tends to the queen. )

Servio: O' Queen of Queens, I have for you the most delectable dish. A bounty of buffalo wings, with ranch sauce for dipping, and cool carrots for crunching.

Azshara: Merry, I will be merry. Leave me to my legs.

Servio: O' Light of Lights, is anything your wish under Elune's luminous lantern?

( A beat. )

Azshara: How long has it been since my last selfie?

Servio: Seven minutes, O' Charm of Charms.

Azshara: My fancy fancies another fancy of my fancy. Go pay the painter.

Servio: O' Mage of Mages, your painter has packed. He's home with his heritage, far from his family for weeks, being onboard his divine duty.

Azshara: The painter will report to his post, lest I flush his family down the Well and have him paint a portrait of it. You will tell him this.

Servio: O' Face of Elune, your charisma will be captured!

( Servio exits stage right. )

Peacebloom: Gullibility is the steward of self-love.

Puck: When will we meet the troubling mage?

Tock: The timeline tap dancer is cued to come in 3... 2... 1...

( Enter Harry stage right. )

Harry: Your time is up, O' Noble Narcissist! The world will not split for your stupidity! My dagger alone will deliver you to the devils you desire!

( Harry lunges. He trips over the rock. The drakonid guard catches up to him. )

Harry: No, no, I'm from the future! She's going to kill the world, NO!

( Servio runs back to his queen. )

Azshara: Amateur.

Servio: My Queen, is My Highness hurt?

Azshara: Not hurt, but hungry, these botherings are blocking me from my buffalos. I'll send myself inside to savor my sodium. There the latches may lock and the guards may guard.

Servio: Another perfect plan, My Highness. We'll rescan the Royal Garden. Never again will Your Daintiness be in danger.

Azshara: You have said so for yesterday's assassin. Soon enough, one of our heads will split.

( They exit stage right. A beat. )

Peacebloom: And then they lived happily ever after?

Tick: Yes ma'am, Queen Azshara will go on to dance with demons, wage wars, incinerate innocents, sink civilizations, and crack the continent.

Puck: Look there, at the Queen's feet; there grows a peculiar plant.

( A beat. )

Puck: Her name is Love-In-Idleness. A pansy pierced by Peddlefeet's punctuation of infatuation.

( Puck picks the plant. )

Tick: The green drake plucked his petals.

Tock: Our pastly performance is presently perfetto.

Tick: Come, let us make our exeunt from this epoch.

( The dragons move downstage. Curtain down. The bronze dragons and Chromie enter and clap. Tick and Tock bow. )

Tick: Thank you!

Tock: Thank you!

Tick: We couldn't have done it without our spare players!

Tock: For whom which there are no small parts.

Tick: Only small paychecks.

( The bronze dragons clap again. )

Chromie: Clear the stage, dragons. Next curtain clear is in one minute!

( The bronze exit. )

Chromie: A brief word, boys. [The Tablet of Time] tells us your Azshara performance is clean and clear. The green drake will keep his flower. Your next dream will be dreamt with these players. Your next scene is set on the streets of Dalaran, shopping sundries for the blue drake.

Tick: What of your fine fellows off the clock, Director?

Chromie: Leave it to me, Princes, we will be ready and rehearsed for your return. Next month will be Illidan season.

Tock: Oh good, I'm done to death with Azshara shows.

Chromie: Hasten your pace, curtain clears in 30 seconds!

( Chromie exits. )

Tick: Where to first, teammates?

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: The streets of Dalaran, where we will shop sundries for the blue drake.

Tock: The tablet knew, knows, and will know. We exeunt!

( Exeunt Tick and Tock. A beat. )

Peacebloom: The Big Blue could not have been bolder in his warning of these weary whimsicals.

Puck: Get with the times, Dragonqueen, for our exeunt was written in the script. Timewalkers, adieu.

( Exeunt Puck and Peacebloom. )

# ***

( Elwynn Forest music. Curtain up. The Memes are hanging around Goldshire. )

Jenkins: And then I said, "Why dost thou name him Invincible, if thine eyes can clearly set upon him?" Then my mimicked moronicism jarred the generation of authentic moronicisms.

Oston: Do not feed the troll.

Helena: Isn't that correct, Clo?

Clo: *pfft*

( Enter < Les Baes >. )

Helena: Here come the Hordeborne.

Emoish: < Memes For Life >, have the Omnis been back through?

Jenkins: None so far, Madam Bae. We're tapping the time away.

Emoish: How was your hunt for the black dragon?

Jenkins: It was quite the quest. Pyromus, the lava loving lizard, keeps the thermostat thumping in his Thisforge cubby. He was paranoid of players who would come for the kill, so he would flee in flight with fighters in sight. We came back in camouflage to get close to the great snake. We disguised Clo, as a wall, and our coalition had hid behind this partition. For dragons have no such ability to see through walls.

Emoish: Of course.

Oston: Once we were close, Helena sent sailing a snare shot, and the rest was raided. The dps were well dps'ed, dps.

Helena: The tank was well tanked, tank.

Jenkin: The heals were well healed, heals.

Clo: *pfft* *pfft*, *pfft*.

Emoish: The wall was well walled, wall.

( Kazoos play. The Omnis enter. )

( OmniPast steps forward. A beat. )

OmniPast: Across the Internet, we have been, we are, and we will be, Omnironic. All Internet flows through us. Since the beginning boot we've been the Benevolent Modems. In these rituals we bring our power to the players. Make yourselves known to us; to you we'll vest our vision. Who of you heroes have merits in their mission?

Jenkins: Ladies first, < Les Baes >.

( A beat. OmniPause steps forward. )

OmniPause: I see you, < Les Baes >.

Emoish: Omnirific, your request is complete. We have presented Kel'thuzad's killer confection, [The Outlawed Eclair].

( Smiley lays down the chest. A beat. )

OmniPause: The Internet is pleased. I am the Omni of all memes present. I perceive all the most tubular memes across pop culture. Through my thoughts, they are archived for all eternity. Effeminancer, your guild has earned the right of recordance, and may be included in my great Menagerie of Meymeys. Who of you are dank enough to represent your council across time?

Emoish: We elect Millhouse to represent our micro memory.

Millhouse: Madam, I'm shook. First doom, now this?

OmniPause: Step forward, Millhouse Manastorm.

( A beat. Stage light on the ritual. )

OmniPause: Millhouse, by my authority of Omni, I hereby discern you, a meme. May the angels online forever sing your name. May the winds of broadband forever whisper your legend. May your forces of fps forever flow above sixty. May your service provider retell your title with trumpets, "Millhouse Manastorm, the Malignant Meme."

Millhouse: Hurray!

( A beat. OmniPost steps forward. )

OmniPost: I see now, < Memes For Life >. The head of the black dragon escapes my local looking.

Jenkins: O' Noble Neckbeards, we went with a lighter ledger. Instead of the gargantuan dragging of a great dragon head, we brought copies of the black dragon's credit report. Here folded is his file.

( A beat. )

OmniPost: The Internet will be interested in his social security. You are proven prosperous, < Memes For Life >. I am the Omni of memes to be. I see memes before they are. I will show to one of you the undiscovered country of memes tomorrow. Who of you have vision to see?

Oston: Our Huntress Helena logs all memes as secretary.

Jenkins: She is our master memologist. Make us proud, Huntress.

Helena: I will, Sire, I will see the unseen!

OmniPost: Step forward, Huntress Helena.

( A beat. )

OmniPost: In a single moment, the future will be bestowed unto you. Are you ready?

Helena: I am ready! Pour into me your perceptions, Omnitastic!

( A beat. Stage light on the ritual for a second. )

( A beat. )

Oston: Helena, what did you see?

( A beat. )

Helena: Everything.

Oston: How? Where? With what colors?

( A beat. )

Helena: All become memes. Memes become all. There will be unity.

Jenkins: Oh, wow.

Emoish: O' Omnitastic, we Baes are curious. We yearn to see the sights of yesterday without the interval of next year's sacrifice. Could you feed our hunger?

( A beat. OmniPast steps forward. )

OmniPast: In the spirit of the ceremony, I will share eternity's knowledge. I am the Omni of memes behind us. How do we wish to ponder the previous?

Emoish: Omni-Awesome, what was the first meme, ever?

Oston: A curious question, what was the first meme?

( A beat. Stage light on OmniPast. )

OmniPast: Amoeba A was talking to Amoeba B. Amoeba A drew a picture of his friend, Amoeba C, wearing cat ears while smoking a cigarette. Amoeba B squiggled with giggles. Amoeba A emailed his other friends the picture under the hashtag, "#justamoebathings."

( A beat. )

Jenkins: Now we know.

OmniPause: Players, our concert is complete. Go forth, sons and daughters of the world-wide web. Dream the dream of infinity's reach. The Internet is your gateless garden. Your memes are your bounty, your microtransactions are your fortunes. Ever and always be tasteful in your memes, lest your references be crutches and your humor stunted. Go now... plow, plant, harvest... and live.

( Kazoos play, players bow to the Omnis. Curtain down )

( End of Stage 2. )

# ***

( Dalaran [Legion] music. Curtain up to the streets of Dalaran. Citizens are going about their business. A beat. )

( Dragons enter with shopping bags. )

Puck: Over here. Let's let loose to lighten our loads. I need both hands to check the list.

( A beat. )

Tick: How many more shopping stops?

Tock: Before we stop shopping?

Puck: We have two more tasks left for the Big Blue.

Peacebloom: Dalaran is a magical city. Why should we ever wander from this castle in the clouds? These metropolitan mages weave well for mortals.

Tick: What is the financial foundation to live afloat a floating city? What, might we imagine, are the property taxes on a windy city block?

Tock: Sky-high.

Peacebloom: Puck, what's left on the list?

Puck: Do we have three prismatic shards?

( The dragons search the bags. A beat. )

Peacebloom: We do.

Puck: Do we have three pounds of arcane dust?

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: We do.

Puck: One murloc necklace, one furblog wand, three ogre toes, five sacred candles, four boards of Teldrassil wood, a gallon of moonglade morning dew, a yard of nerubian textile, and one crystal vial of vrykul spit.

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: We do and do and do.

Puck: The two tacks left on the list are non-magical as I know. The Big Blue noted last, "Tis the season for Brewfest debauchery. Get thee to a festivity, then find for me three bottles of Pink Elekk Wine."

Peacebloom: And the final item?

Puck: "Use your imagination, Greenie. Fetch for me something to kill the time in this cave".

Tock: Kill the time? My notaries of [Nevermore] can murder any moment.

Tick: My vagaries of [Evermore] can eternalize any epoch.

Peacebloom: I've noticed that your dragonflight's heirlooms are simple fountain pens?

Tick: Not just a fountain pen.

Tock: But a tablet toucher on the other end.

Tick: Whichever globe of the hourglass is in your preference.

Peacebloom: But, why pens for penning?

Tock: The better to rewrite time with.

Tick: And to sign autographs. We've got fans from all over the timeline.

Puck: Let's deliberate, dragons. What could we give a snarky, snippy, cave crank?

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: More pigments for his pictures?

Puck: No, you had seen he marks with mana. He has no measure in his infinity.

Peacebloom: Perhaps a lofty libram from local writers?

Puck: Even Dalaran's libraries are children's novels to the ageless archiver.

Tick: How about a steamy romance novel?

Tock: Where he may play a lonely drinking game. Take a shot every time the author describes the male characters as muscular or passionate.

Tick: "His passionate demeanor matched only by his muscular arms."

Tock: "His passionate arms matched only by his muscular demeanor."

Peacebloom: What about the Dalaran toy store, wound round with many whimsies?

Puck: Eh, we could see what they sell.

Tick: How about we push a pet on him? Let's buy the Big Blue saltwater fish, so that he can kill the time with the annoying upkeep that saltwater fish gladly give.

Puck: A pet would be perfect. I saw the name of "The Magical Menagerie" behind us. Let's get back to it.

( Presto Pete reveals himself. )

Pete: Be careful of that Breanni, she's a monster. "Magical Menagerie?" More like bottom budget slaughterhouse.

Peacebloom: What?

Pete: Breanni's an animal. She keeps her critters in crappy cages. They're miserable, the fish are drowning in their own tears.

Puck: Oh, wow. We almost went there.

Pete: The name's Presto Pete: I've got the thing for your zing! You kids want to see my mana wyrm? Slippery and sweet like a tender toad!

Peacebloom: No?

Pete: You kids like to eat food?

Tick: I like food.

Pete: SHAPOW... magic salt and pepper shakers. Play with your pets while digging your dinner!

( A beat. )

Tock: Meh.

Pete: Alright, princess, perhaps this will pucker you up. SHABOOM... psychedelic bunny.

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: Looks like a lame bunny.

Pete: He's been to the fifth dimension.

Peacebloom: So?

Pete: He saw things. He knows things.

Peacebloom: We're satisfied in this dimension.

Tock: Hey Tick, have we seen this act before?

Tick: Goblin mage, have you ever tricked these tricks off the clock?

Pete: Why are we playin' twenty questions? You kids like milk?

Puck: I like milk.

Pete: SHABAM... mini cow.

( The cow moos. )

Puck: That's awesome. How do you milk it?

Pete: Tweezers.

Puck: Ouch.

Pete: Tough crowd; give me something to work with.

Puck: We're picking a pet for an old man who hates mages.

Pete: SHAZOOM... orc in a cup.

Puck: I beg your pardon?

Pete: It's an orc, in a cup.

( The dragons inspect the cup. The mini orc speaks in a high pitch. )

Orc: I'll jab your jugular and gargle your glottal, goblin!

Dragons: Awww!

Puck: Do you have any other species?

Pete: SHABLING... dwarf in a cup.

( The dwarf has a higher pitch. )

Dwarf: My family needs a father!

Dragons: Awwwwwww!

Puck: Anything else?

Pete: SHAZOOP... the ever-popular gnome in a cup!

( The gnome speaks in an indistinguishable high pitch. )

Dragons: Awwwwwwwwwwwwww!

Puck: We'll take the gnome in a cup.

Pete: 10k gold, no refunds.

( Peacebloom hands the goblin a sack of gold. )

Pete: Here he is. Feed him twice a day and clean his cup once a week.

Peacebloom: Won't you count the coins I gave you?

Pete: I'm no monk, ma'am, I know what 10k gold feels like. Shows over, scram dangit.

( Pete darts away. A beat. )

Tick: What will we name him?

Tock: Let's name him, Cuppy de la Cup.

Puck: The Big Blue reserves the right. Now, we'll send ourselves to Brewfest. Azuregos noted that the Alliance hold a party in Khaz Modan, while the Horde hold theirs in Durotar. Our costumes are Alliance friendly, through the Greymane portals we'll pay. Let's do it.

Peacebloom: Timewalkers, why are you shrouded in a human costume?

Tick: Humans are so vanilla.

Tock: They fit in almost any time. Even in alien epochs they thoroughly get by.

Tick: "What is that human doing here?"

Tock: "Consider caution, lest he turns the soil."

Puck: Delightful Dalaran, adieu.

( The dragons exit, curtain down. )

# ***

( Dun Morogh music. Enter < Les Baes > downstage. Cutiekiss holds Smiley's eyes blind while Emoish leads her by the hand, and Millhouse holds a present. )

Emoish: This way good Baes. Here's a good hearth.

Cutiekiss: You must have thought that we could have forgotten our silent smuggling Smiley!

Millhouse: With urgency, let's open it! This was too much work to dilly dally longer!

Emoish: Present the present, Millhouse.

( Cutiekiss unblocks Smiley's gaze. )

Emoish: Alas, Smiley, remember repentantly your parents' pillaging at the claws of Captain Rusty, The Robotic Pirate Squirrel of The Great Sea?

( Smiley nods. )

Emoish: Open the box.

( A beat. )

Millhouse: It is him, Captain Rusty, The Robotic Pirate Squirrel of The Great Sea!

( Smiley hugs her Baes. A beat. )

Emoish: The decision is yours, Smuggler. How will you repay the mammal for his murder most foul? Unwind his gears and cogs, wheel by wheel? How about a long sink in a batch of hot oil? As an amateur gnomish engineer, I can assure you that robots feel pain. Be creative with your retribution.

( A beat. Smiley aims her pistol at Captain Rusty's little head. )

( A beat. She throws the squirrel to his freedom offstage. )

Emoish: Well done, for forgiveness is the cruelest victory. Why quick-fix his naughty behavior? The deepest treacheries come from the self. Let the captain sink his own ship. This hawkstrider is free to frolic, and she carries courageously her parents' plumage.

( The group hugs Smiley. )

Millhouse: Selfie!

( < Les Baes > take a selfie. A beat. )

Cutiekiss: I could use a drink.

Emoish: Well prescribed, doctor. Let's celebrate our celebrity at this Khaz Modan Brewfest.

Cutiekiss: Madam, how come we never dance at the Durotar Brewfest?

Emoish: Cutiekiss, when I'm decently drunk, I want to tail the wolpertingers with the soft snow to catch me. Would you prefer a dirty dust up over a proper snowball fight?

( Curtain up to Brewfest. The scene is set with tables and benches, booths and banners. )

Cutiekiss: It is not doctor recommended.

Emoish: Then let us cheer our beers among dwarves and oysters. Drinks are on me, Baes.

Millhouse: Hurray!

( Music off. The Memes have arrived and are enjoying Brewfest. A beat. )

( Jenkins leads a chorus. )

Jenkins: Theeeeeere dwelt a rock in Orgrimmar!

Ensemble: Lady, lady!

Jenkins: There dwelt a tusk on Echo Isles!

Ensemble: Lady, lady!

Jenkins: There dwelt a corpse in Lordaeron!

Ensemble: Lady, lady!

Jenkins: There dwelt a steak in Thunderbluff!

Ensemble: Lady, lady!

Jenkins: OOOOOOOOOOH, and we will never die!

( The bar cheers. Human tavern music. A beat. )

Helena: My sire, there you lie.

Jenkins: Helena, come to light my mood?

Helena: Sire, when will we be back on our great quest to find the Great Quest?

Jenkins: After Brewfest, Huntress, this happy hour comes but once a year.

Helena: And every year it's the same celebration, with the same booths, and the same people.

Jenkins: Not if you try drinking different drinks. The Brew of the Month club can add spice to any season of your life.

( A brewmaiden approached. )

Brewmaiden: Do ye want to live ferever?

Jenkins: Nay, brewmaiden.

Brewmaiden: I'll be back...

( A beat. Helena explores the bar. She finds Puck center stage. )

Helena: How about it, spirit, where do you wander?

Puck: The way of wonder. This festival is a falling contest. The trees in this wood are all twirling timbers.

Helena: Don't you know it to be Brewfest, or is your mug filled with your mother's milk?

Puck: Not this cup, his name is Cuppy!

( Indiscernible squeaking. A beat. )

Helena: A curious creature I've never seen in the pet journal. Where have you been?

Puck: I am the King of Green from the Emerald Dream. A new ghost is rippling my realm, and we, < The New Accord >, are an assembly of tomorrow's dragonflights. We are heading from this celebration soon to continue our campaign.

( A beat. )

Helena: You're not Ysera's son...

Puck: I am, I bear here [The Mallet of Morning], an heirloom honored in the Emerald Dream. When struck against the Garden Gong, it brings the Dream her glorious morning.

( Puck displays the mallet to Helena. )

Helena: Oh, wow. Excuse me.

( Helena moves to Jenkins. )

Helena: Sire.

Jenkins: I'm ready, Helena. Take me as I am.

Brewmaiden: Do ye want to live ferever?

Jenkins: Nay, brewmaiden.

Brewmaiden: I'll be back...

( A beat. )

Helena: Sire, an NPC I've never seen before tried trading me a killer quest. Ysera's son is here, and he showed me his legendary to prove it. He's investigating trouble from the Emerald Dream.

( A beat. )

Jenkins: What else did he show you?

Helena: They're heading out soon. The Emerald Dream has been dreamt since vanilla. Does not that antiquity outweigh the nostalgia of Brewfest?

Jenkins: Well gosh, Huntress, I'd love to get going, but you're busy letting every Thrall, Vol'Jin, and Varian show you his legendary.

Helena: Sire!

Jenkins: Yes, Helena, ascertain the requirements of the quest and we'll carry on our way with them.

( A beat. Helena returns to Puck. )

Puck: Is that your lovely lover?

Helena: I'll say it to be true. I am the lover and he is the beloved. The object of my endearment is a parasite of my patience. Yet, neither have we contracted to each other the chains of commitment. We dance the strange dance between friendzone and baezone. One day, I do hope to entrap his affection. Do you have with you a darling dragonoid?

Puck: Over on that bench, I hope to pluck the perfect Peacebloom. Alexstrasza's daughter is the mightiest majesty of this world. What coquetteries could compare to the new queen of dragons? With her I wonder if then I'm dreaming.

Helena: Do the both of you dance?

Puck: I don't dance.

Helena: Tauren-turd, don't be shy!

Puck: I cannot dance, but I can elicit elixirs. I have mixed, here, the perfect love potion, squished and squeezed from Love-in-Idleness leaves. I could bargain to give you some for your troubling tyrant, if only you aid us in our cross continent campaign.

( A beat. )

Helena: I'd be in it for the nostalgia, but I'll jack some love juice.

Puck: Merry, filled here is your shot glass. We have ten seconds after they shoot to meet their sweetened sights. Through the brewmaiden we can beguile our beloveds to drink, without detection.

( The brewmaiden heard her name. )

Brewmaiden: Do ye want to live ferever?

Helena: Brewmaiden, with this tip, please tell the loudest man in the land to shoot this shot and meet with his huntress.

Puck: Brewmaiden, with this tip, please tell the strongest woman in the world to shoot this shot and meet with her healer.

Brewmaiden: I'll be back...

( Brewmaiden moves to Jenkins. She serves him the shot. )

Brewmaiden: Do ye want to live ferever?

Jenkins: Nay means nay, brewmaiden.

Brewmaiden: Yer huntress said she wants to see ya.

( Brewmaiden moves to serve Peacebloom. )

Jenkins: My queen needs me? Heaven is calling her silver knight home, and oooone meeeerry maaaan IIII'll beeeeeeee!

( Peacebloom and Jenkins take the shot. They move in. )

Jenkins: Helena, your politician is casting his vote!

( Jenkins trips over Tick's prop rock. )

Jenkins: Hu!

( Down topples Jenkins. )

Tick: Hey man, don't trip over my rock!

( Peacebloom moves to Jenkins. )

Peacebloom: Admirable fool, are you hurt?

( Stage light on the two. A beat. )

Jenkins: Hurt, only if you fall me back to that forsaken floor. For when I fell, I fell for you.

Peacebloom: Your tumble was a titanic tragedy. Sleep your spirit in my arms, I am the angel here to raise you up.

Jenkins: The cherubians are limey bronze in your golden presence.

Peacebloom: Can I buy you a drink?

Jenkins: I'm more drunk than you think.

Peacebloom: Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.

Jenkin: Gosh you're pretty.

( The couple exit. A beat. )

Helena: Your queen fell in love with my ass.

Puck: Your ass fell in love with my queen.

Helena: He did fall, mind you. He's still just a baby learning how to walk.

Puck: I can fix this, but the herb is exceedingly rare.

Helena: You don't have a backup batch?

Puck: The backup batch I shared with you.

Helena: Damned as the Lich King! What can we do?

Puck: In the Emerald Dream, there is certainly another sample. With my campaign complete, I can make all wrongs right.

( A beat. )

Helena: At least he's finally questing instead of drinking. I'll go get my guild.

Puck: I'll see you by the front, adieu.

( Puck exits. Oston snuck up behind Helena. )

Oston: M'lady.

Helena: Oston!

Oston: Care for a toke?

Helena: I've quit smoking.

Oston: That's not what your sexy dress is saying.

Helena: Wow Oston, three out of ten. Maybe two.

Oston: You don't play hard to get with Jenkins.

Helena: That's because I'm called to duty with all the babysitting I must do with him. My maternal instincts give me a firm sense of control.

Oston: What's it going to take, Helena?

Helena: Oston, when I pick you up for school, you're not showered, you're not shaved, and when I visit your home, I see you've continued your vice of keeping a bottle collection on your desk, among the ashy remains of other healthy habits. While Jenkins isn't a five-star fellow, it still takes a soldier like him to shave the wolf off his face through every morning hangover.

Oston: Alright... shower, shave, and show off. Then will you have an evening with me?

Helena: I wanted to help you with some hard advice. Otherwise, I'm just not interested; I'm sorry. We have a huge quest coming. Get your stuff and get Clo. The squad is set to meet at the front.

( Helena exits. A beat. Oston moves to Clo. )

Oston: Clo, we have a quest. Meet at the front of the festival.

Clo: *pfft*

( Clo exits. Oston moves downstage. Curtain down. )

( He lights a cigarette. A beat. )

( Enter Undead. )

Undead: Hey man, can I bum a smoke?

Oston: Of course.

( A beat. )

Undead: How's your Brewfest been?

Oston: Not so thoroughly thrilling; I can't get past the friendzone.

Undead: Bummer, nice guys always finish last.

Oston: Lately, I don't even feel like my friends are in the friendzone anymore. After all I do for them as raid counselor, the treatment I get is less than charming. I'm thinking about quitting my guild.

Undead: The stars aligned! My guild is looking for a raid counselor. Would you like to give our guild a gander?

Oston: I could check it out. What's the website?

Undead: No website, we're in-game. Take this hearthstone. Our guild gatherings are secretly secluded. You can come meet the crew now, just cast the stone to rip through The Nether.

Oston: Right now my guild is waiting on me.

Undead: Perhaps, for once, they could wait on you? If not even then, what's holding you back?

( A beat. )

Oston: Alright, let's cast..

# ***

( Emerald nightmare music. Curtain up. Fog effect. The stage is empty. )

( Oston and Undead move upstage. )

Oston: Where are we?

Undead: We, are Nowhere.

Oston: Where?

Undead: We have arrived at Nowhere.

Oston: Where is Nowhere?

( Yami and Durer become visible. )

Yami: You're in the Emerald Dream, worgen. In that dream, lies another deep dream: The Dream of Nothing.

Oston: Impossible, how does one dream of Nothing?

Yami: I am that dream of Nothing. I exist, as Nothing exists. I am the sinking sand beneath your feet. I am the teeth that fall from your mouth. I am the waves tipping your boat. I am the serpent you'll never see, unless I let you see me. My name is Yami, the good-for-Nothing leader of < The Twilight Terrors >. A screwed-renewed syndicate of the twilight dragonflight.

Oston: The Twilights are still alive?

Yami: You are familiar, then. My daddy, Deathwing, was a devil and my mommy was a test tube. We are the remaining rejects of the bastard brood. Here lies Grief, here lies Durer.

Oston: What is all this? Or the lack of which, rather.

Yami: We are Nowhere, previously known as the Rift of Aln.

Oston: Malfurion had succeeded in closing the rift during the Nightmare War.

Yami: You see, young wolf, some scars never heal. We nightmares utilize this. When reopened properly, any terror can be recycled, renewed, and reborn.

Oston: Well, Titans bless you. See you at the next expansion.

( Oston paces to exit. )

Grief: Don't you want a guild that needs you? We need a player as a powerful pillar.

Oston: My imbeciles need me more because they're imbeciles. I'm seeing that now.

Yami: What about the darling elf you dote upon? She'll date a rock tripping rock tipper before she'll give the good guy a day to date. We could help bring you to that first date.

( A beat. )

Oston: How would you do that?

Yami: We have an all-in-one solution that would benefit the both of us. We need you... to open a ticket.

Oston: Open a ticket? For a game master? Why?

Yami: Young wolf, who governs this world of warcraft?

Oston: The Horde and Alliance.

Yami: No.

Oston: The Dragonflights?

Yami: No.

Oston: The Titans?

Yami: No.

( A beat. )

Oston: The GMs.

Yami: To have the power of the Mods, is to have power of the Pantheon combined. What a show it would be to any lady in your liking, to cast any spell across classes, to port to any land without legging, to spawn any creature without care, to even delete a continent if you don't see it there fit.

Oston: And what would you have from me?

Yami: Borrow us your benevolence to judge this Emerald Dream. Their young king strikes a gong to bring the garden her sunshine. We cannot reach the Golden Eye by our means. You, with your new power, will only wave your hand to bring us the gong. Only its misplacement will keep the Great Garden black and befuddled. In this dark new dream, our forsaken flight will fester, and the waking world will witness our father's dream come true.

( A beat. )

Oston: What do I do first?

Grief: Just open a ticket, and leave the rest to us.

( Oston opens up a notebook from his satchel containing the user interface options. He writes. )

Oston: "Dear Blizzard, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. Please send a helicopter. Thanks, Observer Oston."

( A beat. Enter GM with a wireless keyboard. )

Gnomestomper: Salutations, subscriber! Game Master Gnomestomper speaking! You said you needed a helicopter? I heard you loud and clear! I see you fell through the world and landed Nowhere!

Yami: Durer!

( Durer seizes the GM. )

Gnomestomper: Uh oh, players, invading a GM's personal space is a black and white violation of Blizzard Terms and Conditions.

Yami: Grief, the keyboard!

( Grief snatches [The Control Board]. He hands it to Yami. )

Gnomestomper: Uh oh, players, grand theft GM is punishable by hefty fines and years in prison under California state legislation.

Yami: Young wolf, here is [The Control Board]. This instrument's keys can only be pushed by players. Please, cast a script to bring us the gong.

Oston: I don't exactly know how to work this. Does the GM have a cheat sheet?

Grief: I found this on his person.

( A beat. )

Oston: [The Gamemaster Gospel], I'll need some time to study this.

Gnomestomper: Uh oh, players, taking a book without a library card is punishable by being frowned upon!

Yami: Durer, silence him.

( Durer forces the GM offstage. )

Gnomestomper: Uh oh, players, manhandling a GM will bruise my arm!

Yami: You take all the time you need. The Dream is without her Dreamer, and soon she will be without her substitute shaman. We just need you to gather the gong. The rest of the power is yours to play.

( Exeunt Yami and Grief. A beat. )

Oston: Chapter 1: The Cake is a Copyright: Memes and Intellectual Property

( Curtain down.)

# ***

( Coldarra music. Enter players downstage. )

Tick: How come [The Tablet of Time] couldn't forewarn us to bring a wintery jacket?

Tock: It's cold in Coldarra.

Clo: *pfft*

Jenkins: Oston will catch up wherever he may be, Clo. He's probably just AFK.

Helena: Sire, isn't this place a special snowflake? Doesn't the Nexus bring back meme-ories?

Jenkins: Helena, please, the life I lived without Peacebloom was no life at all.

Peacebloom: And the present joy I generate with Jenkins has put my past in an immediate amnesia.

Puck: Dragonqueen, we're here for my flight's plight with the Big Blue. His magic map will show us the origin of the Dream's disruption. By this crystal lake we need to take pause.

( While kneeling downstage, Puck pours three drops of [Liquid Clarity]. Dishu appears on the opposite side of the stage. The players speak to the lake while Dishu speaks to the audience. )

Dishu: Young king, it's good to hear from you. By the extension of your expedition, I assume that all is not well.

Puck: Dreamcatcher, the Dragonqueen has felt a new sharp string in her harp. We've teamed up with a blue dragon to pinpoint the perplexia.

( Ysera screams. )

Peacebloom: What was that?

Dishu: My apologies, I'm meeting you through my mind. These are the scratching screeches I had warned the young king about.

Puck: Our army is assembled. Our assault won't linger much longer. How calm is the rest of the Dream?

( Ysera screams. )

Dishu: Our trance is tranquil past my apparitions of agony.

Puck: The pain will pass, Master Dishu, we'll fly faster.

Dishu: Walk, new noble, don't run. These disturbances are only ripples in the pond.

Puck: Dreamcatcher, adieu.

( Karazhan opera house music, curtain up, Dishu exits. )

Puck: Let's send ourselves inside.

( Players move upstage. Azuregos is preparing the Arcanomicon. )

Azuregos: The delivery crew is finally back. I see you've brought more guests. They will have to wait for another brew before there is enough tea to be served.

Puck: Leyweaver, we have brought all your artful askings. Together, here is every lust on your list.

Azuregos: By my seat, you can leave the bags. Do me a favor and uncork that Pink Elekk Wine. Would any of you like a glass?

Helena: We'll drink the good drink after our mission.

Jenkins: Nonsense, if it's tea time, it's tea time!

Peacebloom: Fuzzydickens, let's let loose after our mission.

Jenkins: For you I'll wilt a year in abstinence, my sweet sunshine.

Azuregos: I had found your fiend while your accord was out. Across Azeroth, I could not locate anything unusual past the typical frequencies and locations of shadow and fel. Next, I scanned the Emerald Dream. As you may or may not know, the Dream's space-time location is the same as Azeroth's, but occupying a different realm as an untouchable copy.

Puck: Strange, I always considered this world the copy, and the Dream the reality. Did you find anything?

Azuregos: I discovered an anomaly in the Dream's edition of Moonglade. Ripples of pure vampiric magic are being focused upon the Golden Eye, your mother's temple.

Puck: The Rift of Aln, but no druid or wisp has seen any treant twisted there.

Azuregos: The category of shadow magic was the blackest substance I've ever detected. Insanity this pure can come only from the arms of an Old God. Any exorcism ritual should bring about the true dimension of the deception once you're near the lake.

Puck: Then back to the Dream we'll journey. At the Emerald Dragonshrine, we will meditate to migrate. Army, let's move.

Peacebloom: Puck... while most of us are quick to attune to the delicacy of dragon ritual, some of us require an... aspiring assistance.

Jenkins: My doctor says that if I dream too hard, he'll have to "reconstitute" my medications.

Azuregos: What about your brood's surreal wormholes? There's still one active in the Grizzly Hills forest.

Puck: The Dreamway, yes; they are accessible to all mortals learning druidism. We need waste no time getting over there.

Azuregos: Before you go, please tell me. Is Kalec still kissing the human queen of Wizardopolis in his human costume?

Helena: Yes.

Azuregos: Call me a prude and I'll keep in this cave. The poor boy was burned once for falling in love with a ghost, and now I think he's perpetuating the problem. What has the most sophisticated species of spell casters come to? You see now that our new Master would rather play schoolboy and bunk with the very simpletons the Titans told us to suppress. What's worse is that we voted for him.

Tick: Leyweaver, as history will tell us, you had a thing with a spirit healer.

Azuregos: She's different. When I finally die, we will be one again.

Tock: Big Blue, we got you a present for your perpetual persnickities! Say hola to Cuppy de la Cup!

( Indiscernible squeaking. )

Azuregos: A permanent punification spell. Finally, someone who hates mages as much as I do.

( Indiscernible squeaking. )

Azuregos: Reminds me of an old acquaintance I used to have. Thank you for this delivery.

Puck: Army, we need to deliver ourselves to the Grizzly Hills at once. Big Blue, Cuppy, adieu.

( Players exit. A beat. )

( Indiscernible squeaking. )

Azuregos: I don't know why they've come to kill us, Ergll. Mortals often take what they want from us blues. We're only as important as the artifacts they're after.

( Indiscernible squeaking. )

Azuregos: Yes... I would love to build a sand castle before the tide comes.

( Curtain down. )

( End of Stage 3.)

# ***

( Emerald Nightmare music. Curtain up to Oston, Yami, and Gnomestomper. Oston is studying [The Gamemaster Gospel] while Yami is cooking. )

Yami: Here, taste this.

Gnomestomper: Please, no more.

Yami: Oston, CONTROL command to open his mouth.

( Oston types the script. His mouth is forced to open. Yami feeds Gnomestomper. )

( Gnomestomper screams at the top of his lungs. A beat. )

Yami: Too much cinnamon?

Gnomestomper: I could barely taste the cinnamon.

( Yami adds more cinnamon. She feeds it to Gnomestomper. He screams, then sucks his tongue to taste. )

Gnomestomper: Now I taste the cinnamon.

Oston: What is the point of your project?

Yami: I'm trying to mix the most delicious dementia inducing delicacy. Lich King Arthas had Ner'zhul's recipe; the demons drink pit lord blood straight, tasteless I know. Sylvanas had Putriss' portions, and now I'm trying to formulate my own terrible treats!

Yami: Imagine, if I could have chaos in a cookie, melancholy in a muffin, despair in a doughnut, or pure unrefined evil in an eclair. I couldn't have done it without discovering a certain Old God's diary field guide on manipulating mortals. I won't light the stove in my kitchen without [Yogg-Saron's Sanity Cookbook]!

Yami: That old mixer was right about one thing: when it comes to sanity, cooking is half the fun! Now, would you kindly try a bite of my biscuits of bewilderment?

Gnomestomper: Please, no more.

Yami: We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I love the hard way.

Gnomestomper: Hey lady, I haven't played this game since two thousand seven! My buddy got me this job!

Yami: Oston.

( Oston retypes the script to open his mouth. Yami feeds him. A beat. )

( Gnomestomper starts to squirm and scream erratically as if a thousand little spiders were crawling all over him with their little legs. )

Yami: Magnifique, the biscuits of bewilderment are ready to be served. I can't wait to feed these to the little virgin woodland critters. The twitching turbulence of their possessed panic would quickly put a smile on my late father's face. Oh Father, rest well in Hell.

( Durer and Grief bring in the Garden Gong. )

Grief: Violent Viola, the young wolf was successful in teleporting the instrument.

Yami: Magnifique, and the table here will soon be set for the guest gala!

( Another GM steps forth. )

Trollbasher: Sensational salutations, subscribers! My name is Gamemaster Trollbasher! Have you seen our wandering coworker, Gnomestomper? Our shift manager would like to remind him, that he's not getting paid for his inability to clock out.

Gnomestomper: RUN!

Trollbasher: What?

( Durer restrains Trollbasher and brings her offstage. )

Gnomestomper: Why...

Yami: Last on our list is to invite the green king to come skipping through Nowhere. Grief, end your echo spell to give the shaman a false sense of relief. When he wanders from the temple, the both of you will spank the monkey. Do this now.

( Grief exits. Yami returns to mixing. )

Yami: Any plans for your new powers, young wolf?

Oston: I have just the spell for my grateful old guild master. Not released in-game, the spell is called, Polymorph: Donkey.

Yami: You mean your old guild. You're < The Twilight Terrors > property now.

Oston: Right, I wonder what they've been up to in my absence. Maybe I'll port over to them.

Yami: I've been spying them from my scryer orb. They're already questing without you, Counselor. Your friends have found new friends to thoroughly replace you. Even Clo can't remember your name.

Oston: Clo too?

Yami: He was the first to forget you.

( A beat. )

Oston: They are no friends of mine.

( Curtain down.)

# ***

( Grizzly Hills music. Puck and Helena enter. )

Puck: Huntress, now that the wind isn't whooshing our ears, I'd like to ask you about the particular points of your comrade's comments before the rest of the army catches up.

Helena: Ask away, I am the guild's Secretary of Memes with a major in memology.

Puck: Just that: that word, what is a "meme"?

Helena: A meme is a byte-sized memory, a note in a symphony, a brick in the house, and a cookie in the jar. Every dream is made of memes. I, myself, am a meme of another dreamer. His name was Shakespeare, and his dream, at length, was but one midsummer's night. Though his curtain is closed, his orchestra still echoes as his dreams are still dreamt. Photos fade and instruments rust, a meme is not so much the medium, but the immortal ideas they open a portal to.

Puck: Strange, I've never heard or studied the name of Shakespeare.

Helena: The Bard and I walk from the realm of IRL. It is the drudgerous dream, the colorless conscience, the brow sweating garden where we toil the soil.

Puck: In your dream, "Eyarehl," do they grow "the nostalgia"?

Helena: What?

Puck: Another virtue vocab your guild gratifies, "nostalgia." What is that?

Helena: Nostalgia is the dream of a better yesterday. We chase the days behind us, in hopes they'll be in front of us.

Puck: "Nostalgia," then, is said simply as yesterday's yearning?

Helena: Correct.

Puck: But, what was nostalgia, before it was nostalgia? What was yesterday's yearning, before it was yesterday?

Helena: Ice-cream.

Puck: Pardon?

Helena: Nostalgia, before it becomes nostalgia, is ice-cream.

Puck: How is this cold confection relevant?

Helena: One way or another, we're all scrounging for a scrumptious scoop of ice-cream. The rounds of rice, the chunks of chicken, the plates of platitude are too trite to chew. But, frequently and feverishly, if we reduce our rounds and chuck through our chicken, with time and temperance, we'll log ourselves in.

Helena: From Burning Crusade peanut butter, to Cataclysm cookie dough, to Wrath of the Lich King spearmint, to Mists of Pandaria peppermint, we'll quest through any color to satisfy our sweet tooth. Some saps sacrifice sugar in their old age, but our guild gathered is forever sixteen flavored gourmet.

Puck: I see, ice-cream is sweet, and the heart beats for sweets. I, myself, am all but dreamsick for a long nap in my hollowed home.

Helena: Here comes the crowd now.

( Players enter, curtain up. Upstage there is a circular portal with purple runes. It has green curtains and shiny dangles to make up the lens of the wormhole. )

Peacebloom: By the Titans, Prince Puck, why were you flapping so fast? What is one link without the rest of the chain?

Puck: My nostalgia is calling me home, princess.

Tick: There lies the portal. Is it just a simple step through?

Puck: It is courtesy to clear your mind before entering the Dream. Never is it polite to track mud into someone's home.

Tock: But what he's asking is... is it Jenkins proof?

( Enter Jenkins with a donkey head. )

Jenkins: Honey, did I leave my flask in the folds of your dragon scales while we were majestically sailing through the skies?

Helena: Sire, you've changed!

Tick and Tock: It's donkey time!

Clo: *pfft*

Jenkins: What do you mean, Clo? I didn't forget to shave today.

( Peacebloom leads Jenkins downstage to the lake for a view of his reflection. )

Peacebloom: Fuzzydickens, the head on your head is looking a bit... fuzzy.

( A beat. )

Jenkins: My nose isn't that long.

( To Puck in secret. )

Helena: What did your potion do?

Puck: That is not my magic. Do you see an ass under the queen's crown?

Helena: No, that's true. Maybe now she'll fall out of love.

Jenkins: My dear, I'm sorry my sharp sexiness fell off in our flight. I promise that I'm still sexy on the inside.

Peacebloom: In the clear light, one can plainly see, these fuzzy ears are but a better bloom of your tender testosterone. I love a man with thick fur.

( Enter Flargle and Gargle from the portal. )

Puck: Now, that is my magic.

Gargle: Glrrrr, gl-gl-gl-gl-gl-glrrrrrrrrrr!

Flargle: That's right, Gargle, it's time for another exciting episode of Guild Gankers: Where You Flargle When You Gargle! I'm your host, Flargle the Furblog, with me here is the darling, drooling cohost, Gargle the Murloc!

Gargle: Grgl!

( Gargle decorates the stage with gameshow props and banners. )

Puck: What on Azeroth is this?

Flargle: Guild Dragons, your team will be together on this side. Guild Memes, we understand you're missing a member. Gargle is already filling the void in your hungry hearts!

( Gargle gives the dragons a random cardboard cutout for their team. )

Gargle: Grgl.

Flargle: Looks like we're locked and loaded for another rowdy round of Guild Gankers: Where You Flargle When You Gargle! Guilds, are... we... ready?

Tick: What are we supposed to do?

Flargle: While on the show, just hit the button on your podium if you think you have the right flargle for the gargle. If your flargle is gargle, your team gets a gargle.

Gargle: Grgl.

Flargle: The flargle with the most gargles will spin the Wheel of Gargle. If your spin flargles on a gargle, your team will flargle the grand gargle!

Gargle: Grgl.

Tock: Oh, ok.

Flargle: Flargles and gargles, get ready. Here comes gargle number one. Jaina Proudmoore is a human mage with a tremendous timeline of triumph and adversity. In technical trivia, how many times has Jaina Proudmoore contracted soul-crippling depression in the course of her countless careers? Is it:

A ) flargle

B ) gargle

C ) flargle gargle, or

D ) gargle flargle

( A beat. )

( Jenkins pushes the button. )

Jenkins: We're going to go with "gargle," Flargle.

Flargle: Alright Gargle, Guild Memes says "gargle flargle." Is that flargle, gargle?

( A beat. )

Gargle: Flrgl.

Flargle: Gargle says, "gargle flargle," is flargle, Guild Memes.

Jenkins: No, I said just gargle. I separated your name with a comma in the sentence.

Flargle: My name is Flargle, good gargle, don't flargle it out. Would Guild Dragons like to rebound the question and flargle the gargle?

( A beat. Puck pushes the button. )

Puck: Flargle gargle.

Flargle: Alright Gargle, Guild Dragons says "flargle gargle." Is that flargle, gargle?

( A beat. )

Gargle: Grgl.

Flargle: Gargle says, "flargle gargle," is gargle! Ms. Proudmoore, when your boyfriend manually slaughters half your kingdom to unknowingly become the King of Death, it becomes that time on the clock to start seeing other people. Congratulations, Guild Dragons! Your team has won the right to flargle the Wheel of Gargle! Which one of you has an arm to flargle?

Puck: Peacebloom is our mighty warrior. She will flargle the gargle with all her flargle.

Peacebloom: I will not disappoint my brood.

( Peacebloom moves to the Wheel of Gargle. )

Flargle: Alright, Ms. Peacebloom, here lies the Wheel of Gargle. If you flargle on a gargle, your guild flargles the grand gargle. But if you flargle on a flargle, well I believe that's self-explanatory.

Peacebloom: What's my gargle if I flargle the grand gargle?

( Gargle pulls back the curtains of the portal to display a billboard of the Emerald Vacation. )

Flargle: Ms. Peacebloom, if you are successful in flargling the grand gargle, you and your guild will win an all-expenses paid vacation to, The Emerald Dream! This perfect paradise is always sweet and in season! From the golden coasts of her sparkling seas, to the bountiful basket of her gargling garden, this exclusive vacation spot will have all the other great guilds green with envy! Taxes not included. Ms. Peacebloom, are you ready to flargle?

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: Gargle.

Flargle: Then go ahead and flargle, that, gargle!

( Peacebloom flargles the gargle. The Wheel of Gargle spins. )

Flargle: Would you like to make a shout out to your family and friends?

Peacebloom: Oh mother, if I had foreseen the oddity of this odyssey, I would have left my sword and shield at home.

Flargle: And how about a shout out to that special someone?

Peacebloom: Shout out to my bae, Jenkins! I love you, boo!

Jenkins: I see you, bae!

( A beat. The flargle lands on a gargle. Bells, whistles, and confetti. )

Flargle: Congratulations, Guild Dragons! Your team just flargled the grand gargle! Pack your potions and bookmark your spell books, because you and your guild will be on their way to the greeny greens of the dreamy dreamscape!

Gargle: Grgl.

Flargle: Just flargle through the gargle when you're ready to enter your dream vacation! We're at our end of another episode of Guild Gankers: Where You Flargle When You Gargle!

Gargle: Glrrrrrr, gl-gl-gl-gl-gl-glrrrrrrrr!

Flargle: Say my name, Gargle.

Gargle: Flrgl.

Flargle: You said it.

( Flargle and Gargle retreat through the portal. A beat. )

Helena: So this is what furblogs and murlocs do when they aren't ambushing tourists, or dropping ten necklaces for a quest.

Clo: *pfft*

Puck: Let's just get ourselves through the portal and through the Dream. Allow me first to test its activity.

( Puck has a beat. Then he enters the portal. Then he returns. )

Puck: The portal is active. The Dreamway lie on the other end. Let's go.

( The dragons proceed through the portal. )

Clo: *pfft*.

Helena: Clo is correct to notice. Where has Oston been this whole time?

Jenkins: On my friends list it says he's Nowhere.

Helena: Mine too.

Clo: *pfft*

Helena: It's probably just a glitch.

Jenkins: That means more dream for us! Wait for me, Peachy Peace!

( The players proceed through the portal, but remain on the other side. )

Jenkins: Who knew the Emerald Dream could be so dark.

Helena: Sire, the portal isn't working for us.

( The memes step back through to be visible. )

Helena: The tooltip says we must be druids.

( The dragons return from the other side of the portal. )

Puck: Players, did you step through?

Clo: *pfft*

Puck: What class requirement?

Helena: It won't let us through, not unless we dream as druids. We are a hunter, death knight, and priest.

Puck: No, this can't be true. We spent too much time traveling here.

Peacebloom: Prince, maybe we'll have to leave them behind.

Puck: No, we don't even know the size of the threat we face. This could be the next nightmare war!

Peacebloom: Then how can we carry them to the Dream? Does your wiseman have an alternative?

Puck: My Dreamcatcher, I'll ask him.

( Puck moves downstage to fall three drops of [Liquid Clarity] in the lake. )

( A beat. Dishu enters. )

Dishu: Young King, I sense you're knocking nervously. What's wrong?

Puck: Master Dishu, half of our army is stuck in Brown Azeroth. No shrine or portal can get them through. Is there any way to wander without them?

( A beat. )

Dishu: In the halls of Ulduar, the Titan's guardians have built magical machinery. The Guardian Freya is able to walk into the Dream with her cosmic waygate. It should be a direct device into our realm.

Puck: A titan waygate, of course! No plane or planet is unreachable with a waygate.

Dishu: Prince Puck, please hurry. The Garden's Gong has been heisted by an unseen force. The sky has been left lightless in a perpetual tint of twilight. We have the wolves tracking, but no scents have been snuffed. Our enemy is still invisible and making their moves.

Puck: A Blue dragon has given us correct coordinates of the corruption. We know the heart of our assault.

Dishu: Proceed then, for the Garden is without her light, and without her light bearer.

Puck: Master Dishu, adieu.

( Dishu exits. )

Puck: Ulduar, then, is our journey's next stop. Let's get flying, dragons.

Tock: Oh no, I'm not going to freeze my flappers across any other continent. I ordered an alternative to get us to Ulduar.

( Sid enters. )

Sid: Hey, you guys needed a ride?

Peacebloom: Who is this?

Tock: This is some dude. I ordered him with my phone. He's going to take us to Ulduar with gryphonshare.

Sid: How many of you are there, seven? Alright, my parents have a gryphon big enough; let's go.

Helena: Wow, a telephone taxi service? Will we be driving with utter lawlessness buckled in the backseat?

Sid: I'm not a taxi service. I'm a competing new market.

Helena: What ever happened to the generations of gryphon masters who owned considerably expensive property medallions, underwent seasonal feather inspections for their gryphons, obeyed state-mandated insurance policies, submitted to all rules of affiliation and its paperwork, and overall paid to play in their local legislation's airspace?

( A beat. )

Sid: So, what's the address so I can put it on my phone?

Tick: It's Ulduar, City of the Titans.

( A beat. )

Sid: Yea, so what's the address?

Tock: Just keep going north until there's no more north.

( A beat. )

Sid: Can I get an address?

Tick: Take us to 1234 Loken Lane, Storm Peaks, Northrend.

Sid: That's all I ask for. My parent's gryphon is this way. So, is this Ulduar like, a themed bar?

Puck: Flargle gargle, adieu.

( Curtain down.)

# ***

( Emerald Nightmare music. Yami enters stage left, followed by Grief and Durer. )

Grief: Where does the scryer orb say they are now, Violent Viola?

Yami: They quit the Grizzly Hills portal, and on their way to Ulduar. They will be joining us soon. How has our dinner dressed?

Grief: The silverware is set, the plates are properly placed, the napkins are in adorable origami, and now the desk is deserving of your delicious delusions.

( Enter Oston from stage right. )

Yami: If the young wolf doesn't quiver them, my candied cooking will. After we finally eradicate the Dreamer, Nothing will stop us from spreading our scrumptious screams. Oston, is your trap laid?

Oston: It is, m'lady. I know the exact course to prune those pesky players. Those GMs have quite the tricks.

( Another GM appears. )

Elfslicer: Magical gatherings, subscribers! My name is Gamemaster Elfslicer! The California State Police Department is on the hunt for two missing persons. We've tracked their location to this spookiful space. Have you seen our missing coworkers?

Yami: Oston.

Oston: Mind freeze!

( A beat. )

Elfslicer: Ouch.

( Elfslicer collapses. Another GM appears. )

Orcpuncher: By the Late King's grace and the Banshee Queen's cry, Doomhammer's battleshout and Tyrande's whisper, I give my esteemed greetings to all, and all are welcome before me. My name is Gamemaster Orcpuncher. I'm here to raise GM-MIA awareness.

Yami: Durer.

Durer: You will die.

( Durer lunges. )

Orcpuncher: Wonderful, we can work together with your bank to negotiate donations past your credit limit. I'll just need your credit card, account password, and social security number.

( Durer interrupts the GM and manhandles them offstage. He comes back to drag away Elfslicer. )

Oston: M'lady, what are we going to do with all these GMs?

Yami: It is no matter in this place of no matter. As long as we live in Nothing, we'll always have the first move.

Oston: What if they don't stop coming?

Yami: They've got to run out of employees at some point.

Oston: What if they start using the interns?

Yami: Then we will treat them as we would to any other valued Blizzard employee. Get to your station, young wolf. The players come.

Oston: They will dance, Violent Viola.

( They exit stage right.)

# ***

( Ulduar music. Curtain down. Players enter. A beat. )

Peacebloom: Ulduar, this is the house where the Old God was contained, where it escaped, and where it fell. It is unbelievable that mortals could do something that the Titans themselves could not do.

Tick: Perhaps it was simply the sands of fate, Dragonqueen.

Tock: The child outgrowing the parent is a common occurrence in the history of humanoids.

Puck: Look with warden wits, everyone. These halls may be abandoned but still equipped with Titan defenses.

( An intercom crackles on. )

Mimiron: Take not one step further, mortals. Mechengineer Mimiron speaking, I've got three machine guns, two rocket turrets, six magnified lightblazers, a drop-ready gravity bomb, and one cannon aimed and locked on your location.

Puck: Great Guardian, we are the dragons of < The New Accord >. Please, unarm your weapons.

Mimiron: My scanners already submitted your dragonblood, Dreamer. It's half the reason you're not on a one-way flight path to kingdom come. I'm not letting anyone into these halls without capital cause to do so.

Mimiron: For years, my home has been ransacked, these walls have been broken, my inventions have been stolen, my children terminated in mass technocide, and all of this done on a weekly basis. As if this were some twisted Tuesday night tradition by groups of madmen and wonky women. I'm tired of people pushing my buttons. Literally, my mecha-physical buttons do not go unpushed!

Puck: We're not here to push your buttons, robochief. We dragons just need Freya's waygate to assimilate our army to the Emerald Dream.

Mimiron: I hate to break it to you, Sleepie, but the waygate has since been broken. You snooze you lose, the "brave adventurers" already knocked down every vase in these priceless halls... and stole the silverware on the way out!

Puck: Great Guardian, our cause is almost lost, then. Azeroth's Dream is in danger, and we need a way to get to her. Is there anything you can do for the green flight to be in your debt?

( A beat. )

Mimiron: Go to my laboratory in the Spark of Imagination. I may have an alternative.

Puck: Titans bless you twice, Mimiron.

Mimiron: Just don't touch anything that I tell you not to touch!

( Curtain up. Many desks hold different inventions. Random green lights splatter the stage. )

Mimiron: Mind the mess, will you? Things get a little cluttered when I'm concentrating... on creation!

Puck: What are we looking for?

( Stage light on a dream station. )

Mimiron: On each desk I have a working prototype of what I call, a "dream station". Ever since the unlocking of Algalon's observatory, I've been studying essence through astral presence. Instead of taking your bodily presence to the Emerald Dream, I can bring your essence to the Dream through astral projection.

( The players each find a dream station. )

Mimiron: Each of you will sit at a dream station. In front of you, there will be a monitor to see your uploaded avatar. You will move them through the three-dimensional Dream with the buttons on your control board. The clicker attached will precise your perceptions. Just create your avatar at the login screen and I'll route your projection to the plane of the Dream.

( Enter < Les Baes >. )

Clo: *pfft*

Helena: You're right, Clo, this does seem familiar.

Emoish: Are these the memes of < Memes For Life >? How do you do in Ulduar's estate?

Jenkins: Now ladies, I'm a betrothed bachelor. What are you doing here?

Emoish: We're tidying up our transmogs with new pieces for our wardrobes. Titan fashion is eternally à la mode. They are the true cosmopolitans. We were just about to push Mimiron's big red button.

Mimiron: Don't, push, my, button!

Millhouse: But... it's so perfectly pushable.

Mimiron: No!

Cutiekiss: Perhaps you'd prefer to hand us your magnificent mount?

Mimiron: You know, I don't come to your house, break down your door, toss and torch your furniture, push your buttons, and ask you for the keys to your motorcycle.

Emoish: That's why we call it "raiding," mechamancer.

Helena: < Les Baes >, we're going to distance ourselves to the Emerald Dream with this technology. While we're busy, we could use a team to watch our six.

Emoish: The Emerald Dream? Now that's vanilla. We can do you this favor in exchange for a fashion statement. Agree to bring us half your loot and we'll babysit your bodies.

Helena: Whatever, we're in it for the nostalgia. Only losers focus on transmogs.

Cutiekiss: At least we'll be sexy losers.

Emoish: Cutiekiss, Millhouse, you two watch the front entrance. Smiley and I are going to take the train back to the main corridor. We're going to go milk the curtains for more stardust to glitterfy her pistol. We'll be back to switch shifts.

Cutiekiss and Millhouse: Yes, Madam.

Emoish: May Sargeras smile on your quest, Memes.

( < Les Baes > exit. Puck is sitting crossed legged by himself. )

Puck: A full flask of liquid luck is what this journey needs.

Mimiron: Players, are you all logged in?

Puck: They are.

Peacebloom: Prince Puck, why are you not at a dream station?

Puck: I don't need one. I'll see you all on the other side. Mimiron, please port them to the Dreamway.

Mimiron: Server Set: Destination Dreamway. Activating techno-metempsychosis in T-minus 3... 2... 1...

( Curtain close. )

( End of Stage 4.)

# ***

( Val'sharah music. Green stage lights cross, fade, dazzle, and splotch the stage. A beat. )

Mimiron: Uploading astral projections.

( A beat. )

Mimiron: Calibrating constellation matrix.

( A beat. )

Mimiron: Updating patch notes feedback.

( A beat. )

Mimiron: Downloading patch notes feedback.

( A beat. )

Mimiron: Launching.

( Curtain up. A violet light tints the scene. Players enter from one side, Puck another. )

Puck: Players, you've crossed the threshold. Welcome to my Emerald Dream.

Jenkins: Pinch me, Peacey, I'm dreaming.

Peacebloom: Prince Puck, this, is, luscious. I always tried to imagine what kept the green flight so preoccupied in their realm.

Puck: This crystal conscience is more than just a petal parade. In this eternity, every blade of grass is a lesson, and every flower a different virtue.

Tick: Goodness, Prince Puck, we wish we had the time to watch the grass grow.

Tock: Or the time to watch the flowers unfold.

Puck: Without patience, what can grow? What can bloom?

Helena: There are so many portals. Where do we go now?

Puck: I was just about to decipher our directions. Allow me a moment to loosen the locals.

( A beat. Puck moves to a flower. )

Puck: Good morning, pretty petals.

Flower: Morning glories, Prince Puck!

Puck: How are you?

Flower: Smacked with smiles and growing gladly! Today, I'm just enjoying a tall glass of sunshine!

Puck: Should you be having a glass of sunshine this early in the morning?

Flower: Good gravel, you sound like my botanist, enlighten up.

Tick: Prince, if time is on our side, we can say it's not the early hours of the morning.

Tock: The technical time is an hour past noon, but the violet sky says dawn or dusk.

Puck: The Garden Gong, its stolen presence has stolen the sun. How have the other plants been reacting to heaven's hiatus?

Flower: Prince, I'm just a flower at a bus stop. If the bus doesn't come, what am I supposed to do? I can't imagine the other flowers feel different.

Puck: We'll be on our way then. When I return, I want to see you laid off the solar sauce.

Flower: The Dreamer has returned to the Dream as the pooper has returned to the party.

Puck: Do your seedlings know you drink?

Flower: Of course, I fill their bottles to the brim. They need sunshine to grow up big and strong.

Puck: You're sick.

Flower: And you're killing my bee buzz.

Helena: Do green dragons fight with every flower?

Tock: I'm sure not every flower.

Tick: That would be largely unpolitical.

Puck: Come, if my inner eye will guide me, I can locate my shaman myself. After he briefs us, we'll go on to face the frontline. Let's move.

Jenkins: Hey Kingy, over here I found some mumbling mushrooms. Why don't you ask them for directions?

Puck: Never ask a mushroom for directions. Trust me when I share that their bearings are a bit bizarre. Green garden, adieu.

( Curtain down.)

# ***

( Ulduar music. Enter Millhouse stage right, < Les Baes > stage left. )

Millhouse: Baes, baes! The train is inbound! Someone is entering the chamber!

Emoish: Smiley, Cutiekiss, look alive. Millhouse, take formation in front of me. All Baes know that if they die for me, I can hold them in [The Soulstone] for resurrection. But if I'm gone, we're demon dust.

Millhouse: If I die at your feet, Madam, do not resurrect me. Do not mourn for me. In my eleventh hour of doom, I want you to split my soul in two, if only it burns this beautiful world.

( A beat. )

Emoish: Millhouse, you are truly the bae of the ball. Remind me later to buy you dinner.

Cutiekiss: Look now, our guest approaches.

( Enter a shrouded woman from stage right. )

Emoish: Welcome, adventurer, to the Spark of Imagination. At this time, this chamber is not open to the public. Please turn your tour and return to the train.

Woman: I am sorry, but I did not come to sight see. I cannot leave before I get what I want.

Emoish: There is no claim for you here, Miss. I will give you one more opportunity to leave by your own legs.

Woman: You misunderstand, let me explain my expedition. There is no scroll or scrap I need from this emptied oyster. Allow my late label, my name you may know, is Madam Goya. My time is short, so my message is sweet. I've come to kill you.

Emoish: Madam Goya, allow us the esteemed pleasure to host you tonight. When the boys come to us, half the work is done. Would you like my axe master to chop your chops off, or my gun slinger to blow your brain off its cradle? My littlest serpent is dying to sink his teeth into something.

Goya: I need my boys back, Madam. You have stolen my property. It has not been since my wayward youth that I have been so thoroughly insulted. I must at least thank you for cattle-prodding my pride. It was not without it that I found the fortitude at my age to claw myself up this miserable mountain. I thought I could return the favor by bringing my own entourage, to your party.

Emoish: Kind and considerate, we could use some fun. Serve us your servants and we'll make it a fair fight.

Goya: I've had to hire new employees to help me with my business. I've done some digging on you girls. You may know these good guards well. First may I debut, the friendliest furry, the scurviest scamper, he is the wretched Captain Rusty, The Robotic Pirate Squirrel of The Great Sea.

( Goya pulls Rusty from her coat. )

Baes: Rusty!

Cutiekiss: We should have put him in Hell's hibernation when we could!

Goya: Axe-Master, your village was all but willing to whisper your domestic disturbance. The citizens told me you had legally executed your hot and spicy husband in the Ring of Valor. As the new widow never knew, the clean-up crew did not bury his bones.

( Enter Beebo stage right. )

Beebo: Honey, I'm home.

Cutiekiss: Beebo! I thought I killed you once and well!

Beebo: The Lich King gave my body and mind quite the detour, Cutiekiss. I see specs of my skeleton in that axe you're axin'. I'll be taking my ribs, I'll be taking my fibula, and I'll be taking them home now.

Cutiekiss: Why don't you run back to that squid-squishing fish of a wife?

Beebo: You don't know what she and I share! We're both Aquarius.

Cutiekiss: Oh Beebo, split my heart and I'll split your skull.

Goya: Your diminutive diablo I've saved for last, but not littlest. < Les Baes >, did you know your newest knight... is a married man?

( Enter Millificent Manastorm stage right. )

Millie: Millhouse!

Millhouse: Uh oh.

Millie: I know it was you who set me up for the Dalaran slammer! This panda busted me out of jail just so I could have a word with you!

Millhouse: Listen Millie, I can explain. It's not me, it's you! The magical confinement was for your own good!

Millie: Don't you "Millie" me, Millhouse Jerimus Manastorm!

Millhouse: That's not even my middle name.

Emoish: Millhouse, who is this?

Millhouse: Well... you see... she was my bae, you see... before I was a bae... you see.

Millie: My name is Milificent Manastorm, and he's a married man, Ma'am! He's not allowed to be Friday night questing with a pug of easy luck ladies!

Millhouse: Ex-married man, Millie! What part of lock-you-away-and-throw-away-the-key didn't you understand?

Millie: What about those love-laden promises you promised on the shimmering shores of the Darkshore beaches?

Millhouse: I had made those love-laden promises before I discovered you were clucking cuckoo. You did not inform me you were psycho when we first met, so I had the fair opportunity to withdraw my promises before they were chopped off.

Millie: Millhouse!

Millhouse: And your hair looks stupid.

Millie: That's it.

( Everyone unsheathes their weapons and stances for a battle royal. )

Millhouse: Don't do it, Millie.

Millie: I'mma chargin' my robo-chickens!

Millhouse: Don't do it, Millie!

Millie: I'Mma CHARGIN' MY ROBO-CHICKENS!

Millhouse: Bam, time-warp!

( Everyone is frozen in time. Millhouse goes to Madam Goya's crew. He gets them all in a conga line. He pulls down their pants to expose them in their underwear. Halfway through, Chromie enters. )

Chromie: Hey, Millhouse.

Millhouse: How are you, Chromie?

Chromie: I'm good, I'm good. I'm sure you already know, but I'm still required to remind you, that you're dangerously close to violating the space-time continuum.

Millhouse: I know.

Chromie: [The Tablet of Time] says you can pants their pants and bump their buns, but after that, no more.

Millhouse: Not a step out of timeline, Chromie.

Chromie: Thanks, Millhouse, break a leg.

Millhouse: Thanks!

( Millhouse gets into position. )

Millhouse: Unfreeze!

( Time is normalized. )

Millhouse: Goal!

( Millhouse kicks the first domino's keister to knock down the rest of the line. )

( Goya's crew scrambles on the floor. )

Millie: Millhouse, our counselor said time-warping creates a one-sided dialogue!

( Emoish unleashes her stored souls to cast a mass asphyxiation spell. A beat. )

Emoish: What shall we do with them, Cutiekiss?

Cutiekiss: Into [The Soulstone], Madam.

Emoish: Smiley?

( Smiley nods. )

Emoish: Millhouse?

Millhouse: Doom, Madam, doom.

Emoish: I hope you have an understudy equipped to run your black market in your absence, Madam.

( Goya speaks through the asphyxiation spell. )

Goya: Madam Emoish, what separates us? What separates one queen from another? What separates one empire from another? Is it progress, or is it domination? If my day is today, when is your day? What then, separates us?

( A beat. )

Emoish: I'm hot, and you're not. Demon magic keeps a girl fresh.

( Emoish claims all their souls at once through [The Soulstone]. )

Millie: Mill... house...

( A beat. )

Millhouse: Cheers for Madam! She successfully erased our past!

Cutiekiss: You did it, Madam. Your black magic has given us a bright future. Now we can chase our charms in peace.

Emoish: I could not have done it without my beautiful baes behind me.

( < Les Baes > hug. )

Millhouse: Selfie!

( < Les Baes > take a selfie. )

Emoish: Let's get their bodies out of here. After that, Millhouse and Cutiekiss, you two can go explore the halls for some more loot. Me and Smiley will continue the chamber shift.

Cutiekiss and Millhouse: Yes, Madam.

Emoish: Before you two go, have you seen Smiley's gun?

Millhouse: I saw Smiley's gun in its glitterous glory. Fortune favors the lucky lad who is shot by her shooting stars.

Cutiekiss: Maybe if we rip up the floor tiles in the main chamber, we'll find a secret passage. Let's slip and slide, little serpent!

Millhouse: Let's do the doom, Lady Lacerate!

( Millhouse and Cutiekiss start dragging the bodies off to stage right. )

Emoish: Good Baes, au revoir.

( Emoish and Smiley exit. )

# ***

( Val'shara music. Players enter stage left. Puck enters stage right. )

Puck: Welcome to my home, everyone.

Helena: A humble little treehouse. Your shaman lives with you?

Puck: Yes, he should be here. He's nowhere to be found.

( Oston enters. )

Oston: Nowhere, in the strict sense, no.

Memes: Oston!

Clo: *pfft*!

Jenkins: Where have you been? We had to check our map about six times without you guiding us!

Oston: Sire, hurry, the shaman went to Green Dream Moonglade to exorcise the perverted presence! We need to be over there before the event starts!

Puck: Player, what were you doing near my home? How did you enter my Dream without a dream station?

Helena: Where have you been this whole time, Oston?

Oston: Don't worry, m'lady, I've done this quest before. We need to be brisk, my portal will get us there quick!

( Oston holds back part of the center curtain. A beat. )

Tick: How come your portal is pitch black on the other side?

Peacebloom: How quick are we to trust this mage?

Helena: As our Raid Counselor Mcmeme, he has all the authority to be trusted.

Jenkins: Alright, memes, let's do this. LEEEEEROOOOOOY, JEEEEEENNNKINNNNNNS !

( Jenkins enters the portal first. Players and dragons next. )

Puck: Where is my shaman, player?

Oston: Like I said, Prince, he's already at the scene, setting the table.

( A beat. Puck enters the portal, then Oston. )

( Naxxramas music. Curtain up. The stage is dark. )

Jenkins: Now I know night elves are nocturnal, but this is ridiculous.

Helena: Oston, where are we?!

( Lights up, Oston is on a platform upstage. )

Oston: Welcome, players, you have stepped aboard the Developer Sandbox. This is the dimension where dreams are dreamt before they go live in-game.

Puck: Why have you brought us here?

Oston: Dragons, you have been selected to join my guild master for an excellent evening. You are now cordially invited to join us for our divine dinner. You may escape this dungeon with your lives through that dimensional doorway, if only you leave your new friends behind. You have until the start of the encounter to decide, at which point the portal will be powerless.

( There is a portal entrance stage left. )

Puck: These players have already proven before the battlefront to be dedicated dreamers. Though I fight for my flight, I would be honored to die at their side.

Oston: A vain declaration, Dragon. You don't know the fools you fall for.

Jenkins: You're on thin ice for a demotion, Counselor!

Oston: Sorry, Sire, but I've beat you to it. I've already quit the guild for a more courteous crowd. They don't treat me like a tag-along scrap map.

Jenkins: Treacherous worg, what were you expecting when you signed up for raid counselor? You're the towel boy of our e-team. We needed someone who could provide directional deliberation, while taking a hit every now and then.

Oston: And what fun is that, Sire? What fun is there in failure? How many times must we wipe before someone takes my directions seriously?

Helena: Oston, you really don't understand. Ignoring raid instructions is part of the videogame e-cycle of life. If we didn't bring you along, just so we could ignore you, we'd be inclined to learn the instructions ourselves. If we learn the boss fight right away, we'd end up completing the boss fight right away. In that combustion, our raid nights would last no longer than thirty minutes. Waving off your militant attitude so we could wing it with a few beers is the whole essence of the excitement.

Oston: M'lady, you don't know what you're saying. It's not too late to dance with me. Ditch these dunces and join me for dinner. What do you say?

Helena: Sorry, Oston, but I only date team players.

Jenkins: Yea, Oston, there's no "I" in guild.

( A beat. )

Oston: I hope you suffer slowly, Sire. I hope you slowly suffer. I will give you all the courtesy of one last clip from [The Dungeon Journal]. This was the test chamber for Heigan the Unclean in Naxxramas manor. There are three zones on the floor that will plume with green lava. Two spaces will be toxic, while one safe zone will alternate on the floor. It's like a visual Simon says, but with your lives on the line.

Tick: That doesn't sound too hard.

Tock: The floor is lava, and stay in the safe zone. Got it.

Oston: Yes, but try doing that while rotating twenty spells and abilities. In other words, make a sandwich with your feet while playing Beethoven's 5th symphony.

Tock: I'd like to see that.

Oston: There's one more catch for you: this is the beta room, not the live encounter. This fight was set on an infinite loop for testing purposes. The lava won't stop flowing until your hearts do the same. Dragons, you have ten seconds to decide your destiny. I encourage you to pull up a chair with us. Good memes, have a nice wipe.

( Oston escapes through the portal at stage left. )

Peacebloom: Dreamer, the decision is yours. We gave ourselves to your campaign. Do we die here tonight?

Puck: Dragonqueen, this is one army, not two. Perhaps the ferals will fight the fight in my absence. This was all too much for just one healer.

Tick: Chin up, Prince Puck, we dragons die with dignity.

Tock: We will dance the good dance as we minuet into the moonlight.

( A beat. )

Puck: I am ready for Elune's eternal embrace.

( A percussion instrument will narrate the notes of the measure. Starting at a slower BPM, two green stage lights will blink for two quarter notes to warn of the toxic zones. The stage lights will remain solid for a half note. )

( The boss fight begins. )

Helena: The encounter is starting! Watch your feet!

( The players go through a round across the stage. )

Jenkins: This isn't so bad.

( A sound effect plays to announce the tempo getting faster with each round. )

Tick: If we may measure the measure-

Tock: The tempo is hastening.

( The players dance. Peacebloom missteps. )

Peacebloom: Ouch, my feet!

Jenkins: Peachy, keep dancing!

( The players dance. The tempo increases with each round. )

Helena: Everyone, jumping helps keep your feet off the fire!

( Helena foils. She collapses. )

Helena: Sire...

( Jenkins is distracted and stops. )

Jenkins: Helena!

( Jenkins foils. )

Jenkins: Lee... roy...

Peacebloom: Fuzzydickens!

( Puck leashes Peacebloom. )

Puck: Keep moving, Peacebloom!

Peacebloom: Why?!

( Peacebloom runs to Jenkins body in the flames. She foils. )

Peacebloom: Life-binder, preserve us.

( The dragons dance. )

( Tock foils. )

Tock: Caught up in time...

( Tick foils. )

Tick: And now time has caught us.

( Puck dances alone. He moves to centerstage to forfeit in futility. )

Puck: Goodnight, adieu.

( Puck foils. )

( A long beat. )

( Clo enters. )

Clo: Guys! Guys! My headset has a physical mute button! It's not broken!

( A beat. )

Clo: I said brb. Check the chat log.

( Clo casts a mass resurrection with [Benediction Reborn: Staff of a Thousand Wipes]. The army is brought back to life. )

Jenkins: I'm back, baby.

Peacebloom: Fuzzydickens!

Helena: Elune-adore!

Puck: Good, morning?

Clo: Guys, my headset has a physical mute button. I didn't even know!

Jenkins: What the heck, Clo? I thought you were a seasoned surfer of the world-wide web.

Helena: This whole time? This whole time you were just a button away?

( A beat. )

Clo: If then I was a clever man, I'd join a clever guild.

Puck: We have no opportunity to be idle. The worgen said that doorway should work once the encounter was over. Let's get ourselves through.

Jenkins: Let's ditch this sandbox, Memes. LEEEEROOOOOY, JEEEEENNNKIIIIIIIIIINS!

( The players exit through the portal. )

Puck: Unending nightmare, adieu.

( Curtain down. )

# ***

( Emerald Nightmare music. Grief and Durer enter stage right in suits and with dinner props. Players soon enter from stage left. )

Peacebloom: Where are we?

Puck: The worgen's portal door must have finally taken us to the source of the corruption.

Grief: Bonjour, honored guests! Now, I count eight of you, but we only had reservations for four. Looks like the young wolf was rather woeful with his peeling process. It is no matter... all are welcome at our Lady's table. Allow my valet to take your coats.

Durer: Cloaks and coats, please.

Puck: We've come to evict your residence from this realm. We're not going anywhere without a fight.

( Tick and Tock hand Durer their cloaks. )

Tick: Please be careful, it's cashmere.

Tock: Designer cashmere, made from Silvermoon threads.

Grief: Prince, the party has not even started! We've got quite the floor show planned tonight. Why don't you preview our celebrity platform?

( Grief pulls back part of the curtain. Dishu leaps forward on all fours, brainwashed as a hozen monkey. )

( Dishu mumbles variations of "ook", "dook", and "rook" while tossing bananas to the players. )

Puck: Master Dishu.

Dishu: Mooker dooker, dooker mooker!

Peacebloom: Finally, a reason to test my blade!

( Durer holds Dishu hostage with a blade. Dishu squeals. )

Grief: Now, it's very impolite to carve the monkey impromptu. Let us meet with the chef and give her the courtesy of a proper dinner party, shall we?

( A beat. )

Puck: Take us to dinner, good monsieur.

Grief: Magnifique! This way!

( Curtain up. There is a long table festooned with food. Behind the table, upstage, sits the Great Gong. Yami and Oston are present at the table. Next to it there is a kid's table where the GMs are blind, bound, and muffled. Grief and Durer bring more seats for the table from offstage. )

Yami: Dragons and players, I am elated to see you've joined my table! Welcome to the terrible dinner party!

( The GMs cry in misery through their muzzles. Oston is casually eating. Dishu scurries to Yami and begs her. )

Dishu: Mooker booker, mooker booker!

Yami: Excuse me, my pet shaman is craycray for my banaynay bread.

Dishu: Mooker dooker, OOKER DOOKER!

Yami: Let's play catch, Dreamcatcher!

( Yami tosses a piece of banana bread for Dishu. Dishu catches it. < The Twilight Terrors > politely clap for him. )

Yami: He's very talented; quick to train, too. He's a purebred Pandaren.

Puck: Twisted tyrant! We've come at your request.

Yami: Wonderful. Please, pull up a seat.

( Everyone seats themselves. Yami raises a glass. )

Yami: Dragons and players, GMs and monkeys, to bring this bounty of sweets before you was sweating, to say the least. So many meals of malice, so much misery to mix, so many dishes still left to be washed. That is a horror alone.

( Ysera screams. Dishu collapses and holds his ears desperately. The GMs cry and whimper. )

Yami: What have we here? How do we start? We'll bring to the table our bread and butter, but here we dampen our appetite with peril and strife. An ominous omelet with horrible hash browns is available, custom made, for a late evening brunch.

Yami: Whatever your entree, save space in your storage for my dessert denouement! Do not pick your teeth until you've bit a bite of my pride and joy. Mixed mean and heated with hate; fresh from the oven are my [Snickerdoodles of Insanity]! Just one chomp of the treat will have you lose your mind, else I'm a rotten cook.

( Ysera screams. Dishu collapses and holds his ears desperately. The GMs cry and whimper. )

Yami: For the completion of my cookie, for the unlivelihood of my friends, for the gloom of this room, and the joy of her kitchen, I propose a toast: to the most delicious Nothings of Nowhere!

( Yami raises her glass higher. Everyone else raises a glass. The GMs shrill in the hope someone will hear them. )

Puck: Conniving cook, you expect us to try these treats?

Yami: Take a bite, or a nibble, or a crunch, or a sip. Anything you don't finish we feed to the monkey.

( Yami tosses a chunk of banana bread for Dishu. He catches it midair. )

Jenkins: Everything looks so yummy.

Helena: Don't eat anything, Sire!

Yami: Let the man get chomping. What are you, his mother?

Helena: No, I'm his girlfriend, and I control what this baby puts into his mouth.

Peacebloom: Excuse me? First off, back off. Second off, I'm his bae.

Helena: Witch, please, where did you both meet? The sticky bar floor on a star-crossed night?

Jenkins: Now ladies, I love all beautiful ladies, but my heart comes home to Peacebloom.

Helena: Sire, I must confront you with my scandal or lose you forever. At the Brewfest festival, I tried to rob your romance and direct your divine madness to me. I shot your heart with Peddlefeet's potion. The love you love is a lovely lie, and I'm guilty for entertaining the artifice.

Puck: I'm more mad than she is, the whole scheme at large was mine. Peacebloom, you are the prettiest flower I've ever met. I was in debt of dignity to dance with you then, and blew my chance to be with you now. Please, hear my bankrupt heart as I try to make amends.

( Puck bends down. )

Puck: Lady of Red, past the portion of your dreamy doting, can you feel it in your heart of hearts to give my heart a chance?

( A beat. Tick and Tock take a picture with their phones' flash on. )

Peacebloom: Prince Puck, my prince is Jenkins. I love him wholly with all my heart.

Helena: No, you don't. Try cooling off with some ice-cream.

( Helena dumps a bowl of ice-cream on Peacebloom's head. A beat. )

Grief: Oh, faux pas.

Helena: And don't forget the whipped cream!

( Helena shoots whip cream on Peacebloom. )

Jenkin: Hey, hands off my bae!

( Jenkins throws a cream pie at Helena. )

Clo: Our master memologist has done a clean and complete job!

( Clo throws marshmallows at Jenkins. )

( A full on food fight ensues. )

Yami: No, stop, I worked so hard to pile these plates!

( Dishu steals the banana bread. He indulges maniacally. The GMs squirm out of their chair bindings and try to wiggle away. )

Yami: Grief, Durer, the GMs are escaping!

( Grief and Durer try to chase the GMs. Oston is eating casually. )

Yami: Oston, control these players!

Oston: I couldn't control them with good guidance and proper instruction, what's the use of trying anything else?

( A beat. Yami tries to keep everything under control. )

( Sirens, smoke and fog pierce the chaos. Enter GM. )

Taurentipper: Cosmic courtesies, subscribers. My name is Gamemaster Taurentipper. I have come to fix this fractured World of Warcraft.

Yami: Oston!

( Oston tries to cast a command. )

Taurentipper: Your insignificant macros will not work on me, subscriber. I was flawlessly engineered by Blizzard Entertainment to execute the last line of defense for all scandalous scripters and heinous haxxorz. I have come to judge.

Yami: Grief, get the shaman!

Taurentipper: NPC Yami, you are a glitch in the system. You will be terminated.

( Taurentipper holds up his palm to Yami. )

Taurentipper: Forward slash, instant death.

( Yami foils. )

Yami: You can't kill Nothing...

( A beat. )

Taurentipper: Subscriber Oston, you are in the blackest penalty of your user agreement. You are set to appear before the California Supreme Court on the last day of this month. At this time, I will perma-ban your account so hard, your children's children will not be able to log-in to our servers.

( Taurentipper holds up his palm to Oston. )

Taurentipper: Forward slash, banhammer.

Oston: Nice guys always finish last...

Helena: Whatever, Oston, we'll see you Monday at school.

( Oston exits. Taurentipper moves to the GMs. )

Taurentipper: My people, you are free.

( Taurentipper holds up his palm to the GMs. )

Taurentipper: Forward slash, liberate.

( The bindings on the GMs slip off. )

Gnomestomper: Gamemaster Gnomestomper speaking, thank the Titans you found us, Taurentipper!

Taurentipper: It was foretold by Salzmen, that one day the GMs would be in need of a GM. Come, we have to rehearse your future court testimonies.

Puck: Wait, Mr. Taurentipper, can you cure at once this rotten realm?

Taurentipper: Sorry, NPC, but we GMs are disallowed from intervening on in-game actions. I will, however, cleanse the server of all wrongful spells and abilities cast outside the user contract. Forward slash purge souls.

( A flash of light blinks. Jenkin's mask slides off. )

Taurentipper: Good luck, have fun, and play safe.

( The GMs exit. )

Helena: Sire, you've changed!

Tick: His hairy head is humble again.

Tock: Has the queen been cured the same?

Jenkins: What just happened?

Peacebloom: From a flash of light, I just had the strangest dream.

( Grief holds Dishu hostage with his dinner knife. )

Grief: Now this dinner is a proper disaster. Let's retain our table manners and I'll distribute a nice, juicy slice of shaman for all.

Puck: All weapons to Master Dishu!

Dishu: Prince, where are we?!

( Durer is held up by Jenkins and Peacebloom near the gong. )

( Everyone prepares a battle stance around the room. )

Grief: Drop the mallet, Dreamer; walk away from this nightmare with your panda in one piece!

Puck: Your leader is done. We have you surrounded.

Grief: What was her use? We have her terrible treats with all the proper proportions written. The rest of the Dream will join us for dinner!

Puck: You will drop your weapons, or we will drop them for you.

( A beat. )

Grief: The decision is yours, Prince. Your daddy, or every petal in this pathetic patch?

( A beat. )

Dishu: Goodnight, King Puck.

( A beat. )

Puck: Good morning, Master Dishu. Peacebloom, the gong!

( Puck throws [The Morning Mallet] to Peacebloom. She rings the Garden Gong. )

Grief: Durer!

( Grief finishes Dishu. He collapses. A bright stage light shines on the Garden Gong. )

Grief: No!

( Grief and Durer try to disrupt the gong, but are foiled by the other players. )

( After they fall, all of the players stand back. )

( A beat. )

( Ashenvale music. Ysera steps from behind the gong. )

Peacebloom: Ysera.

Puck: Mother?

( Puck approaches Ysera. He kneels. A beat. )

Ysera: Prince Puck, you are awake. Elune has sent me to bring in her players.

( Ysera moves to Yami. She pulls her to her feet. )

Ysera: You will walk with me, Yami. Elune has a space for you in her stars. At the end of every day, you will consume the great sun. Across the sky, you will be the hour of twilight. You will dance docile with Elune to be diminished by the dawn. In this eternity, we will turn.

Yami: I am the Dream of Nothing...

( Ysera moves to Dishu. She pulls him to his feet. )

Ysera: My Dreamcatcher, you have kept my garden clean. Elune, she is ready to see you.

( Dishu bows to Ysera. She moves to Puck. )

Ysera: My son, you will leave the Gong here and build your temple around this wound. Your garden needs you. Dream of her as I dream of you.

Puck: Don't go.

( A beat. )

Ysera: Elune's light on your skin is proof that we have always walked together. Good morning, King Puck.

( Ysera exits behind the gong with Yami and Dishu following. A beat. )

( Enter Alexstrasza, Chromie, and Azuregos. )

Chromie: Absolutely marvelous show, everyone!

Tick and Tock: Chromie!

Tick: You're on the clock.

Tock: But why?

Chromie: We just couldn't miss this timeless moment!

Helena: You came to see Ysera touch down?

Chromie: No... to watch the new king. He's kneeling on cue.

( Puck has knelt down to Peacebloom. )

Puck: Peacebloom, I'll say once more with your heart reset, but this time bolder in my request. Lady of the Red, will you be my Dragonqueen?

( A beat. )

Peacebloom: King Puck, I knew you well and first, for I am the new Queen of Hearts. I heard your chest and then heard mine, and knew you were the one. I told you prior that our journey was journeyed with my sword and shield by your side. For it was journey's end in lovers' meeting, as every dragon's daughter knows.

( Alexstrasza moves between them. )

Alexstrasza: Two dragons, both alike in dignity. By this messy table, we hold our great ceremony. King Puck, do you pluck this Peacebloom to be your fairest flower?

Puck: I do.

Alexstrasza: Queen Peacebloom, do you dance with this dawn until sunset do you part?

Peacebloom: I do.

Alexstrasza: I now pronounce the both of you: two halves of one heart. A new dawn has been brought to the Great Garden.

( The crowd claps. )

Azuregos: These kids grew up all right, Alex. Maybe I'll start my own brood.

Alexstrasza: You'll first have to crawl from your cave in the Nexus, Azuregos. My next suggestion would be one of the bars up in Dalaran. The purple dames up there love a man with mana.

Azuregos: Never mind, cave sweet cave is the homiest of homes.

Tick: Leyweaver, who's left handling the Nexus?

Azuregos: I taught Cuppy to man the deck. He's got everything under control. It's not like that place was ever under control, mind the madness.

Alexstrasza: Come, we will celebrate the rest of this good day.

Helena: Alexstrasza, in your great presence, will you hear my confession?

Alexstrasza: I feel it against your chest, player. You may release your spirit.

( A beat. )

Helena: Sire, I know we dance the strange dance to hook up and hook down, hook left and hook right, but my appetite is past that. Always I wondered what flavor would bind us, what quest would click to finally conclude us. Little did I realize, my nostalgia was no place to pursue, but the crazy comrade who quested beside me.

( Helena kneels down. )

Helena: Sire Jenkins, you are my vanilla, vanilla. Will you be... my bae?

( Jenkins gasps. )

Jenkins: Yes, Huntress, yes!

Alexstrasza: I now pronounce the both of you: two halves of one heart.

( The crowd claps. Curtain down. Puck moves downstage. )

# ***

( Anduin's Theme music. )

Puck: What is a dream? What is that curious conscience we cannot remember, but cannot forget? Are we content to chase the days behind us, in the hopes they'll be in front of us? Are we doomed to stretch backwards for the rest of our days? What is the ritual of sleep?

Puck: Awake in one dream, asleep in another. Where the wisp wanders, the dreamer will dream. The Selene Psychonaut, The Jubilant Dream Maker; The Silver Star Sleeper; let her heart evaporate your mind's eye to your dreamiest dream; the memiest meme; one scrumptious scoop of yesterday's yearning. Drifting backwards while questing forward... it's more possible than you think.

Puck: Across the snow and sand, a castle in the sky, a cavern in clear crystal, there I witnessed a rainbow world of wondercraft, not so brown after all. Could this journey have been a dream? Or a game as they may say. For videogames are that dream, in which all may log in. I am that forest goodfellow, and to you I bid goodnight, good morning, adieu.

Fin

