The room was hot and damp, lit only by silver candelabra. The faces of the witnesses were cast in shadows, dancing
shadows that cringed in the wake of what scant breezes that came from the wide, open window. Outside, the full moon
cast her unblinking eye on the forest below – owls hooted and jackals bayed in the distance.

For a few tense moments the whole of Third-Earth was silent.

Heavy-Handed leaned forward, his horribly distorted face formed itself out of the darkness. "RD Rivero!" the weary
defendant arose at the call of his name. "You have been accused of crimes against Thundercat Humanity. What is your
plea?"

"I plead guilty. Yes, I'm guilty. I have written stories where Tygra dies horrible deatha, if for no other reason than for my
own amusement. And not just Tygra, Bengali, the kitten's – everyone."

"Yes," the Puritan commented, "your 'notoriety' precedes you. You, sir, are a pretender. You are not as evil as you
would have us believe. Indeed, I have proof," he said fretting several blank sheets of paper before his face, "you keep up
this 'tough-guy' appearance only for the chicks."

"Yes, it's true, it's TRUE!" RD yelled almost in tears. "I confess! I do it to divert attention from my true nature. I do it to
hide my salivating, unquenchable lust for Bengali and his massive, heaving chest, his bulging arms, his, his man-meat!"

Loud whispers echoed through the gallery. Heavy-Handed banged his gavel until order was restored.

"RD! RD! Don't hurt him," Bengali shouted. Masked ushers restrained him and began to escort him out of the court.
"We've been torrid lovers for three years!! RD!! I love you!!"

"SILENCE! I WILL HAVE SILENCE!"

He broke the gavel hammering it so hard – the blunt working end was sent flying through the air striking Tygra in the
head killing him instantly.

Berbil#1: "Hey, what did you expect?"

Berbil#2: "That's right – this is an RD fic, after all."

Other masked ushers threw the dead tiger body out the window. Fianna and the dogs heartily and noisily munched on
the carcass.

"Someone wants to approach the bench."

The onlookers were again silent

The youth spoke: "Yeah, I'd like to ask the meanie head why he's always putting me in bed with WileyKit? For once
why not Cheetara – hell, I'd even give that puma woman whatever her name is a good try," he said thrusting his pelvis, "if
you know what I mean."

Somewhere in the shadowy gallery someone ran out of the court sobbing. Again the witnesses began to converse –
everyone was asking who that had been.

"The defendant will answer."

"Well, Kat," the evil author cleared his throat. "I thought you'd be happier that way. You did tell me that your sister was
the only girl who could find where your – well – your you know, that thing she calls the –"

"AHHH!!!" the boy ran out screaming if only to deafen the word RD was about to say that he did not want the others to
hear.

The audience burst into laughter – then Liono approached the bench. It was particularly difficult for him to reach the
head of the room considering that he was dragging Cheetara all the while. The coquettish woman had her arms wrapped
around his waist, her face pressed against his exposed crotch, her lips wrapped around –

Oops! Sorry, Lady Thundera.

"I'd like to ask RD why I'm such, um, such," he looked at his hand, at a word Snarf had written on his palm, "an air
head?"

Again a wild roar of laughter erupted from the onlookers. Liono reacted in surprise – he waved to the gallery as though
they were cheering him on.

The Puritan, using a well-chewed Tygra thigh bone, banged on the bench. "Order, order in the court!"

"I'll have a burger and a shake – and another one of those, my beautiful Cheetara."

"Enough! Liono will return to his chair. Bailiff, note that Liono is to be brought up on charges of fornication and sex out
of the bonds of marriage –"

Before Heavy-Handed could finish his sentence the crowd of spectators, horrified at what prospects might await them,
stormed out of the court. Even the masked ushers had to leave.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me, Heavy-Handed."

"Think again, RD!"

The men turned back to see.

"Lady Thundera!" the author gasped.

"Angels and ministers of truth defend us!" the Puritan shrieked. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!" He jolted from
the bench, headed toward the back exit. He slipped on a puddle of the goo – warm and sticky – that Liono and
Cheetara had left behind. The judge slipped out of the window to his doom – is improbable and ridiculous as that might
sound.

"Yum! Fresh puritan!" Fianna said to his fellow canines.

"That was disgusting, RD."

"I know, but I had to get rid of him one way or another."

"Silly mortal! Don't you know that when something enters the fanfic world that it never dies – it's always there for others
to read and write about."

"I suppose that's so –"

"Look at all the times you've killed Tygra and the rest of the Thundercats but they keep coming back. Haven't you
learned your lesson already?"

"No, I guess not –''

She sighed approaching closer.

"You're not still mad at me for killing you? I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Oh you huggable teddy bear!"

"Oh! Huggable! Smoochy, smoochy!"

"Shut up, Fianna," the two said in tandem.

"Shutting up, boss," the green dog returned to his feast in tail-wagging excitement

"You big silly, I'm not mad anymore. But you still have to be punished."

"Punished?" he gulped, adjusting his collar.

The room at once metamorphosized into a bright, pastel-colored chamber of horrors. Racks and other ghastly
implements of torture sprouted up from the ground ready and waiting, complete with carrion and stained, dried blood.
The lead castrator alone came with five dead bodies.

"Which one first?" she pondered.

"I've always been partial to disembowelment."

She led him to the shackles. A door opened from out of no where. Grune came in to great the two authors.

"What are you doing here?" Lady Thundera asked.

"Grune is my body double," RD answered.

"You're kidding me."

"It's a well-paying job," the saber-tooth said. ''And besides, anything for a fan.''

RD petted his black mane and shackled him to the torture device. The automatic machine began to cut into the puma's
flesh.

"I'll have Fianna free him in about an hour," the evil author said, opening the door for his accomplice.

"Will he be OK?" she said, looking back at the grotesque horror.

"Oh, yeah, he won't feel a thing," RD answered – a blood-curdling scream came from the squirming Grune. "He's a
ghost, he won't feel a thing."

RD and Lady Thundera walked off into the night, arm in arm, plotting their next wicked plan against Thundera Tiger and
her Blasted Blundercats