Token Hercules

Iolaus has lost his memory (oh no!) and Hercules must guide him through a typical adventure.

“Hey, Hercules,” Iolaus began, slinging his sword over his shoulder. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re waiting,” the demigod informed him.

“Oh.” The hunter shifted his sword to his other shoulder. “Waiting for what?”

“For the guy.”

“Oh.” Iolaus gave up fidgeting with the sword and strapped it around his waist. “What guy?”

“The guy that needs our help. See, we can’t start on an adventure until someone comes running up and tells us his people are suffering and asks if we can do anything about it.”

“Okay, but what do we do while we wait?”

“Any number of things that show us doing some male bonding ,” Hercules replied. “We could fish, or perform some sort of manual labor, or just start off down the road like we were actually heading somewhere.”

“I kind of like the fishing idea,” Iolaus said thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

“Well, we haven’t done the labor thing in awhile,” the demigod mused. “That’s always a good opportunity to strip to the waist. The female viewers love that. And if we work really hard, we can pour water over our heads and stand there, dripping in the sunlight. There’s some easy bonus ratings points.”

“All right, I’m game.” The hunter began to take off his purple vest, but his partner quickly stopped him.

“Looks like we won’t have time for that,” Hercules announced, shading his eyes against the glare of the sun. “I think I see The Guy coming now. From the looks of him, I’d say he’s coming to us because a warlord has taken over his village.”

“Hercules,” the stranger called out as he neared. “Please, we need your help. My village is under attack by a warlord named Vidar. He and his men are pillaging our supplies, taking our women, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Don’t worry,” Iolaus spoke up eagerly. “We’ll be glad to help you, um... What was your name?”

“Oh, I don’t have one,” the man answered. “It’s not really necessary. I’m getting killed off in about five minutes.”

“Sorry,” Hercules apologized. “You see, he has amnesia and he can’t remember the routine.”

“Gotcha,” the stranger said. “Well, I’m off to go and tell my village that you’re coming.” He winked at the two heroes and began running back out of the scene.

“Why didn’t we just go with him?” the hunter asked in confusion.

“We can’t, because we have to give him time to get killed,” Hercules explained. “While we pack things up here, he’s going to run into Vidar’s men. They’re going to kill him for leaving the village to get help. Then we’re going to show up at the village and get all outraged over his death. It’ll provide us with the motivation to fight.”

“How long is it going to take us to get to this village?”

“Theoretically, it’s about a two week walk,” the demigod told his friend. “But all we have to do is move to the next scene and we’ll be there.”

“Cool.”

*THE NEXT SCENE*

“Hercules, look! It’s The Guy.” Iolaus pointed to the square as the duo entered the village. The Guy from the previous scene was hanging from a wooden structure, his dead body serving as a warning for all that would defy the powerful Vidar.

“Ok, now we have to cut him down. I’ll act like it’s all my fault that he’s dead, and then you tell me that I’m not to blame and that there was nothing I could have done to save him. Oh, and say something like he died a hero, fighting for his people. We need to make him honorable so that his death is doubly tragic.”

“Don’t touch him,” came a shriek from the assembled villagers. “Vidar promised to make us pay if we took down the body.”

“Who are you?” the hunter asked as the shouter stepped forward.

“Me? Oh, I’m the antagonist. You know, the crotchety old villager that doesn’t think any of this concerns you strangers. I’m utterly spineless and I try to keep everyone else that way, too. But basically I’m here so that your friend can give his ‘What’s Wrong With You People’ spiel.”

“What’s wrong with you people?” Hercules cried out on cue, walking around the circle of villagers and staring at them angrily. Obediently, they hung their heads in shame. “The Guy was one of you. He died trying to help all of you. And you’re just going to let him hang there as a spectacle because of fear?”

“What would you have us do?” Crotchety Man yelled. “Defy Vidar and risk all of our lives?”

“Some things are worth the risk,” the demigod continued. “Vidar has taken your village, and it’s time to take it back. If you join together, you can defeat Vidar. Then The Guy’s death won’t have been in vain. So, you know where Iolaus and I stand. Now the rest is up to you. Are you going to surrender your freedom and your dignity, or will you rise up and reclaim your village?”

The assembly of villagers began jumping up and down, cheering wildly.

“Very inspiring, Hercules,” Iolaus told him. “But we have days of work ahead to get these people ready to battle a warlord and his army.”

“Iolaus, you’re forgetting...”

“Oh, right. On to the next scene....”

*THE NEXT SCENE*

{The villagers are hard at work, building all sorts of tricks and traps for the impending attack. Hercules is showing a group of men some basic fighting moves. Iolaus is busy sharpening his sword as a beautiful girl approaches with several more swords for him to work on.}

“Word is, you’ve lost your memory,” she purred in his ear.

“I have, but everything else is fully functional,” the hunter grinned slyly.

“Well, it looks like I don’t have explain my purpose to you after all,” the girl said.

“And what would that be?”

“I’m your love interest for the week,” she informed him. “I’m here to flirt with you, show a little cleavage for all the guys, and possibly even engage in a kissing scene or two. You may or may not be required to heroically rescue me once the battle begins.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Iolaus promised. “Now, what was that about a kissing scene?”

“Oh, not now. The next scene is approaching, and I’m sure the bad guys are in it.”

*THE NEXT SCENE*

{A very ominous group of ruffians ride into frame.}

“So,” the warlord said sinisterly. “Our little villagers have defied me and cut the body down. I warned them that we would make them pay....”

“Don’t worry, Vidar,” Head Lackey told him. “We’ll wipe their village off the face of the earth!”

“Yeah, right,” the warlord snorted.

“What are you implying, Vidar?” Lackey #2 asked. “We’re professional mercenaries. We’ve killed hundreds of people and destroyed countless villages. Ares himself is behind us.”

“Look at us,” Vidar instructed. “We’re all in black leather. We’re the bad guys. We don’t stand a chance.”

The Lackeys all looked at each other in confusion.

“Oh, never mind,” the warlord commanded. “Let’s just get this over with. Attack!”

With a loud yell, the army rushed into the quiet village, immediately falling into all the traps and tricks from the previous scene. A bunch of villagers attack with pitchforks. Iolaus and Hercules take out numbers of Lackeys.

“Iolaus,” Hercules shouted as his partner executed a whirling spin kick that sent four men flying. “It’s time for you to act completely incompetent and let two guys overpower you so that I can come save you.”

“Oh, ok,” the hunter yelled back. He swung wildly at an approaching Lackey, missing him by a mile. The man grabbed his arm, and another rushed forth to grab the other arm. Together, they began pummeling the helpless hero. “Hercules,” Iolaus called out piteously. “Help me!”

The demigod looked over to where his friend was being beaten. He paused while an obvious expression of anger came over his face. Hercules landed over exaggerated punches on the Lackeys closest to him, sending them flying fifty feet in the air to land on various buildings and in hay piles. Rushing over to the melee, he pulled the men off his partner and extended a hand to help him up.

“Thanks, Hercules,” Iolaus enthused.

“No time for that now,” the demigod cautioned. “We have to do our trademark move.” With that, he flipped Iolaus over his back while the hunter kicked an oncoming Lackey.

“Retreat!” Vidar shouted, taking comfort in the fact that he was still alive. The villain that lived to escape was a rare one indeed. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Hercules,” he warned. With a maniacal laugh, he produced a small knife and hurled it at the demigod. Everyone looked on in horror, and finally Iolaus launched himself in the air, taking the blade that was meant for his friend.

“You could have warned me about this one,” the hunter gasped as Hercules took him in his arms.

“Sorry, Iolaus,” the demigod told him. “It’s just the curse of being you. Fans just love seeing you mortally wounded.”

“That’s pretty sick.”

“I know, but there is an upside. As much as they love seeing you in pain, they’ll never stand for any permanent damage.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“Well, this is the smarm scene. You tell me that I’m the best friend you ever had, and I tell you that you have to hang on and that I can’t let you go. No, better yet, let’s do the dying-in-my-arms scene. The Iolausians eat that stuff up.”

“Fine, but can we hurry it along? I do happen to have a knife in my chest, you know.”

“Sure. Here we go...”

Hercules took a second to get the proper expression of fear and horror, then began begging his partner to hold on. Iolaus portrayed a man in utter agony as he claimed that his sacrifice had been worth it. Finally, he said goodbye and his blue eyes closed in a heart wrenching death scene.

“I’m so sorry, Hercules,” consoled Crotchety Man.

“No,” the demigod declared forcefully. “I won’t let him go. Not this way. Bring on the next scene!”

*THE NEXT SCENE*

“Hades, I’m taking Iolaus back with me!” Hercules crossed his arms and glared at his uncle to prove his point.

“I don’t have time for this,” Hades grumbled. “Despite the fact that I’m completely ineffectual as a god, I have all this clerical b.s. piling up, and my love life with Persephone is in trouble... Do you want me to go on whining?”

“No, just give me back my friend!”

“Ok, fine. I’ll do as you ask if you just complete this virtually impossible task for me in a typical Herculean fashion....”

“Um, Hades?” the demigod interrupted. “It’s taken a little longer that I expected to explain everything to Iolaus, so we’re running low on time. Anything less time consuming that you can offer?”

“Ok, how about I rewind to the previous scene and you just catch the knife this time?”

“Works for me,” Hercules agreed.

*THE PREVIOUS SCENE, TAKE TWO*

Everyone stared in horror as the knife sped toward Hercules’ heart. At the last second, he reached out and plucked the deadly blade out of the air before it struck him. With a mighty heave, the demigod sent the knife sailing back toward Vidar.

“I knew it,” the warlord grumbled as the knife embedded itself in his chest and he fell from his horse into the dust.

The villagers began waving their pitchforks in celebration, cheering wildly and dancing about their reclaimed village.

“Hey, Herc,” Iolaus shouted. “I’ve got my memory back. One of the Lackeys hit me over the head with a staff, and conveniently my memory returned.

“Well, looks like everything’s back to normal,” Hercules declared with a smile. “Which means it’s time for us to be going.” He extended his hand to the villager beside him. “Be safe, Crotchety Man.”

“I think I’ll miss you most of all, Cleavage Girl,” the hunter announced. She came forward and Iolaus dipped her with a passionate kiss.

“Come on,” the demigod urged. “We have to do the final scene.”

“I remember,” Iolaus told him. “Walking into the sunset, best buddies. You jokingly tease me. Herc, that’s so formulaic. Why don’t we try something different?”

“Like what?”

“Something more exciting. Work in explosions. Or how about we drive a chariot off a cliff to escape some angry gods? Even a big dance finale would be better than this.”

“How about you just say goodnight, Iolaus?”

“Goodnight, Iolaus.”

Disclaimer: The author was heavily medicated during the writing of this story. :)

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