Across the vast barren expanse of hell an RV rumbled, sending a thick cloud of dust flying behind it like demon's wings.

Just in front of the large dark doors of Dante's Tavern the behemoth came to a screeching halt. The cloud enveloped the vehicle. A door opened. There was a dry cough. Slowly a figure began to emerge from the dust cloud as it walked toward the doors. It stepped out of the cloud and stood before the doors in triumph. On the doors hung a message with a count down to the
next winter solstice party.

In one hand he held a twelve pack of Coors Light. In the other, he held a bag filled with potato chips and pepperoni sticks. "This time I'm coming early," Aquillae declared, and kicked the door open, "And leaving late!"

******

Meanwhile, somewhere on a light cruiser traveling at warp 2 toward the planet Regulus.

Bernadette lazily poured the warm, perfumed water down her left arm. She lifted her arm and watched as the oils and bubbles ran down the slim limb's length to the pit of her arm. A giggle escaped her lips and she wiggled to the tingling sensations. She crossed her arms together over her breast, then slowly began to delicately trace her fingernails down the curves of her young supple body. The fingers joined together and slipped underwater.
Suddenly a pleasing warmth flowed through her body. She let out a contented breath and slowly slid lower into the bath tub.

"Perhaps a few more minutes wont hurt." she reasoned, as she decided to delay her arrival at Dante's Tavern.

******

Mr. Clarence J. Robinson pushed the doors to the tavern open and walked briskly across the floor to the bar, his cigar trailing a finger wisp of smoke behind him. Quickly he tossed a few rusted old coins on the counter and pounded for the bartender.

The wizened old man behind the bar made it a point to take his time reaching the large rude gentleman.

"Come on. Come on." Clarence pounded on the bar trying to coax the bartender to move just slightly faster than the speed of spit. He failed.

The bartender reached Mr. Robinson's position in his own good time. But before he had a chance to ask his customary question, Robinson rudely called for a bottle of Pomeroy's Red.

The bartender, annoyed with being cut off from his only form of
socialization, was pleased that he could reply with the one line that he usually tried to avoid using with a customer.

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't carry that brand." He tried to hold back a snicker as Robinson pounded the bar and cursed. "Perhaps you might care for a nice chateau Tames Embankment?"

Mr. Robinson cursed under his breath at not being able to find his favorite drink anywhere within the Assd world.

From somewhere above, a clear voice called out into the depths of the world of Assd. "Mr. Robinson. Paging Mr. Clarence J. Robinson. You're wanted in the Wild West Saloon aboard the Seven Seas Cruise Liner."

Clarence cursed as he slowly disappeared.

The bartender slid the coins into his hands with a grin of satisfaction. Then as he turned to place them in the cash drawer he noticed they were merely slugs.

*****

With a roaring crash the doors to the tavern were forced open, their thick ornate ivory handles pounding into the stonework of the front walls.

Fortunately for the party-goers the disturbing sounds were covered over by the blasting jukebox in the far corner belting out Hillbilly Rock-n-Roll.

Quickly the door man came running over, his thick fists clenched tight.

"You're going to pay for that, Bud. Nobody comes in here and trashes Dante's...." his voice failed him as he caught sight of the intruder.

At just under six foot and nearly three hundred pounds of pure muscle, Lou the door man was considered by many a big powerful ox of a man. Standing now in front of the intruder he felt as small as a little child.

With a deliberate motion she turned her gaze upon the fool of a man who dared challenge her. She spoke only one word as her cold silver eyes fixed on the little man before her. "Leave."

The harsh resonance in her voice froze Lou where he stood.

The intruder turned her gaze away from Lou and began searching the party-goers for one particular person.

Released from her eyes, Lou teetered on the balls of his feet, then suddenly plopped to the floor with a hard thud. He turned, and on his hands and knees, scurried across the floor toward the bathroom.

In one of the far corners she found the man she was looking for taking and drinking with a female.

Slowly she made her way across the floor toward him. There was no need to rush. Time, for her, meant nothing because time would never touch her.

As she advanced across the floor she began to peek the interest of several men and women. They wondered at her size, her dress, her strange markings, but she did not notice them. She remained focused on the target of her long hunt.

Aquillae sat chatting and drinking with a girl while his mind tried desperately to remember the girl's first name. As he turned to wave for the barmaid he caught a glimpse of a female walking across the floor toward his side of the tavern.

Was she a female he wondered as he slowly began to tune out the girl's conversation which had something vaguely to do with sex.

Thick, long and black as a moonless night in the depths of a forest was her hair. The face showed within its harsh beauty only the thin surface of the fierce fires that burned within her soul and tortured her. Sparkling like quick silver her chainmail shift was perfectly fitted to her classically proportioned body.

Aquillae grinned as he lifted his mug to drink. "Dam! She's got to be a female with a pair of tits like that!" To his surprise and enjoyment she stopped at his table. With a sense of good humor he lifted his mug to her and asked out loud. "Would you care for a drink?! Or would you prefer a quick fuck?"

No sooner had he gotten the last word out then he was grabbed by the throat and lifted out of his seat.

Aquillae, no slouch at just about six foot two, was lifted up on his tip toes to meet her piercing eyes. From this new vantage point he noticed a bright tattoo on her left breast just over her heart. The tattoo, an intricate working of swords, shields, ivy, crowns, and a large cross was partially destroyed by three distinct parallel burns.

"Hey what do you think you're doing, moving in on my man like that?" the girl rose and swiped a weak hand across the intruder's right shoulder.

The intruder turned her gaze on the small mortal.

"Ah, if you'll excuse me. I got to go pee."

Aquillae watched in anger as the girl he had just spent the last few hours chatting and filling up with beer in the hopes of getting laid, hurried away and left him with this amazon brute.

He turned his gaze back to her. He smiled weakly.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Aquillae. You?" What else could he do but ask.

"Aquillae. Daughter of Diquitus."

"Aquillae. Hah, how about that? We both have the same"

She squeezed his throat.

"Who are you mortal to think you can steal my name?"

"I'm" he squeaked out

She squeezed tighter.

Then just as his face was beginning to turn red she loosened her grip.

"Who are you?"

"Call me Mud," he answered in a horse whisper.

With that answer she tossed him over her left shoulder as any human would a handful of dirt, and turning, strode across the floor and out of the tavern and into the dark night.

******

In a large deck chair wrapped in his favorite bathrobe and slippers, Ja'Har relaxed by the poolside under a warm Southern California sun. To his left was a small glass toped table covered with several old, well thumbed issues of the magazine Fantasy & Science Fiction. To his right was a pitcher of chilled grapefruit juice. Ja'Har was in heaven.

With no commitments for the next few days Ja'Har decided it was time he took that well deserved rest he had earned, and needed, after the fiasco of the movie 'Bernadette Unchained'.

No. He wasn't going to allow himself to think about that disaster again. Already that monster had taken away several weeks of his young life and stolen thousands of dollars in psychiatrist fees.

He took in a deep cleansing breath and held it, his mind slowly working at clearing away the dirty baggage that the recurring thought had once more thrown into his mind.

He held the breath and quietly counted to himself. It was working. Gradually the memories were once more fading from his mind. He let out the breath.

Picking up one of the magazines, he quickly flipped through the pages until he found his place marker. Immersed in the story he was reading, Ja'Har did not notice the approaching footsteps.

"Sir," a very proper voice spoke, "you can not hide from your obligations. The people expect you to attend. You owe it to your fans."

Ja'Har laid the magazine on his chest. "You know something, Jarvis?"

"Sir."

"You're a royal pain in the butt sometimes."

"That's why you pay me sir." Jarvis replied as he took the magazine from him.

Ja'Har stood up, turned to face Jarvis, and made a play of brushing off a piece of imaginary lint. "I think you would do it even if I didn't pay you so much."

"Indeed, sir." Jarvis responded in a mono tone voice as he took Ja'Har's Elmo sunglasses.

******

The doors to Dante's Tavern slowly opened. In fact they were taking so long to completely open that Roger, Lou's replacement, walked over and pulled the doors open.

In the door way stood the writer formally known as Aquillae.

Very gingerly he began the painful process of trying to walk across the threshold and re-enter the tavern for a much needed stiff drink. After several minutes of trying he was still not even half way across the threshold.

Roger began to get impatient as did several of the newly arriving guest who had to wait behind the slowly moving man.

Having already been forced to miss his coffee break due to Lou's sudden weak bladder, Roger was quickly losing all patients with the slow moving man. In one stride he walked up to Aquillae. "Would you care for some assistance, sir?"

Aquillae looked up at the large man with tears in his bulging eyes. "Yes, please." He managed in a weak high pitched voice.

As the line gathered outside the door increased, Roger knelt down and grabbed the cuffs of Aquillae's jeans. In one quick movement he yanked down hard and pulled the jeans down to their normal position.

Aquillae let out a long sigh of relief. The Atomic wedgie was no more. Tentatively he tried stepping forward. It was still a bit uncomfortable, but at lest now he had some open space between the crouch of his jeans and his two best friends.

Grateful for the assistance, he padded Roger on the shoulder. "Thank you." he whispered.

******

Running back into her bathroom, Raquel applied the finishing touches to her makeup. She stepped back from the sink counter to judge the overall effect of her efforts. Inside, that young, playful, fresh spirited youth she once was, smiled at the vision reflected back at her. After over two years of limited use her skills as a professional with cosmetics were still apparent.
They had not abandoned her, even if some people had.

Checking the time, and realizing that she was already late, Raquel rushed down the hall and into the bedroom to finish her dressing. A half hour later, when she was finally confident that she truly looked her best, Raquel opened the bedroom door to the outside world.

Kate McGraw looked up from the kitchen table and her game of solitaire. Raquel, her youngest, her baby, stood at the end of the table, waiting, needing for her mother to saying something encouraging.

"That was quick." It was a lie, but it felt the natural thing to say.

"Well, how do I look?" Raquel spread her arms and turned around slowly for her mother's inspection. She was wearing the dark red, low-cut evening dress she had purchased for herself two years ago. She bought it for herself to celebrate the contract signing that assured her the lead in Aquillae's next major film, which was slated to be a romantic scifi movie titled "Raquel Unchained".

"Beautiful. But you don't think it's a bit too showy?"

Raquel put her arms down and walked over to her mother. "If anything it's *Too* plain. I'll probably be the wallflower in the group."

"You were never a wallflower, Raquel." She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them.

Raquel forced herself to ignore the reference, whether deliberate or accidental, and gave her mother a hug and a kiss. "Don't wait up for me."

As her child walked out the door and off to the Solstice gathering she knew she would be waiting up very late for her baby's return.

******

Aquillae finally reached the bar, found one of the few remaining empty bar stools, and proceeded to try and sit on it. He missed very badly and fell to the floor with a crash.

A sexy woman stopped and knelt down beside him.

A babble of gibberish seemed to flow effortlessly from her lips as she spoke to Aquillae.

He creased his brow in confusion, not understanding a word she was speaking; if indeed they were words.

Again the sexy woman repeated the babble of gibberish, this time leaning forward and picking something up off the floor near Aquillae.

She cupped the object in her hand, then with a quick motion brought her hand up against Aquillae's ear.

Instantly he had the sickening sensation of something slithering down deep into his ear.

"You dropped your Babel fish." The sexy woman repeated her words for a third time.

"Thank you." he said as she helped him up to his feet. "Would you care to join me for a drink?"

"I'd be delighted."

The two sat at the bar sharing the same bar stool.

"So what are you drinking tonight?"

"Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters."

"Two Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, bartender!" Aquillae announced as the bartender walked past.

*******

As they watched the bartender pull out the ingredients required for the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, Aquillae slowly slid his arm around the sexy woman's waist.

She glanced over at him with a playful sparkle in her eyes.

"So," he tried to be extra smooth with this sexy woman, "what's your name?"

She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. Her warm breath on his skin caused a shiver to run down his spine.

When he was able to regain his composure he thought of the name for a moment, then frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Aquillae sat in thought for a brief moment trying to run through the listings in his head. When the information he was searching for refused to be located in his brain he tapped on the bar top and activated one of the many computer terminals only just recently installed at Dante's Tavern.

With fingers flying effortlessly over the keyboard he was quickly logged onto the internet. He typed in the long path name required then reached into his leather jacket and pulled out at pair of false eyeglasses with a rubber nose and bushy eyebrows. The bartender and the sexy woman watched as he slipped the eyeglasses on. As he was about to tap the enter key he noticed the look of concern on the sexy woman's face. "Oh, this." He said pointing to the fake eyeglasses, "This is just to hide my identity from the
ISP's." He tapped the enter key and was immediately in the ASSD newsgroup.

Scrolling down the long list of posts he found the one he was looking for - Virago Blue's original Sexy Women post. He opened the long chain of posts relating to Virago's original post and began reading each of them.

When he reached the last post sent in by Xanthos Pendragon, he was disappointed. Nowhere on anyone's list had he seen her name mentioned.

Determined to correct this oversight he clicked on the reply to group icon. When the new window for the reply message opened Aquillae was ready to type. But before he could type the first letter the sexy woman clicked the window closed.

"Why'd you do that?"

"I like to keep a low profile."

The bartender placed their Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters on the counter and then ducked behind it for cover.

The sexy woman swirled her index finger around in one of the Blasters. "A very low profile."

"How low?" Aquillae lifted his glass to his lips.

She whispered softly, "Horizontal."

******

The Pink Pussy Cat raced through the darkness of space at warp 7; it's sleek form cutting a straight line for the center of the Milkyway galaxy and hell beyond.

Inside the sleek ship the sounds of heavy metal music reverberated off everything. On the bridge of the ship there was a band surrounded by way too much amplifying equipment playing the music. At the back of the band there was a female drummer pounding wildly to the harsh heavy beat of the music. Beside her stood another female playing a bass, apparently lost in meditation, punching the rhythm into the music. At the front of the band were two wild females playing guitars and dueling it out with each other on the chromatic scale for supremacy of the melody. In front of all was the singer, Bernadette, with her voice raised in wild animalistic passion calling up the fiery passions of the lyrics.

Seated in the captain's chair listening to all of this was Waldo, sipping his Shirley Temple.

As the music reached a fever pitch, one of the guitar players began her trade mark slid down the neck of her instrument.

"Twanggggggg!!" the amplifiers shook as discord rocked the air. The band members stopped.

"Shit!" The guitarist cursed as she looked at her expensive manicure, "Chipped another nail."

The Pink Pussy Cat entered the center of the galaxy and then turned left as it raced on for hell and Dante's Tavern.

******

Raquel pulled into the parking lot at Dante's Tavern and repressed the urge to curse; it had been a terribly trying drive down highway 666 with all the holiday vacationers trying to get into hell for the long weekend.

Finally she made her way to the front doors of the Tavern. She halted and once more checked her appearance in her small compact mirror. Satisfied with the reflection she saw, she steps towards the doors.

As she waited for the door man to open them, she remembered fondly the last time she had been down this way. It was to do some research for her performance in the film "Broken Angel", a performance which garnered her much critical acclaim. Now as the doors were pulled opened she wondered if she would have the chance of meeting Dante or Beelzebub again for a drink.

Meanwhile, inside the tavern, Aquillae was behaving rather silly. He was dancing around the tables trying unsuccessfully to get people to join him in a conga line while attempting to perform Hamlet.

The lady Messalina, quickly abandoned by Aquillae after he had accidentally gulped down his Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, turned her attentions to the bartender.

******