He would find them this morning. He had no doubt of that! A grin played around one corner of his lips as he indulged in the thought of the General beneath his shoe, tiny little screams of agony ripped from his tiny little throat as Sid's sole pressed down more and more...and...more. Such a pleasant way to start the day! He felt quite cheered.

***********

About a half hour earlier, inside the horse mound, the cast began to stir, stretching and yawning upon their rumpled pelts. "It's been months since I've had such a good night's sleep," Buggie said.

"Probably longer," Mary added, knowing as she did how rarely one actually got to rest unless one were unconscious.

Sleep was rather like food...or money...or changes of clothing. Berti grinned. She had passed up her one good opportunity to sleep for...other...things.

Her Martiness bustled about, passing around crumbs from a bran/oatmeal muffin.

Ando looked at it, hesitating to put it in her mouth, aware of the lack of ...um...relief facilities...in epis. She had actually been allowed in a bathroom back on Mary's sheep station, but only been able to get close to the tub and the sink. Really, she truly wished the epiwriter, paid more attention to life's little necessities! She was just about to inquire after such matters as regards the inner workings of horse mounds when the Queen clapped her hands and summoned the cast to the center of the chamber.

"It will be first light in a matter of moments," Her Martiness said, "so it is time for you to become acquainted with the finer points of robin riding."

Ando shuddered. Her fear of heights had never quite recovered from that long drop she had taken from the high overhang of the Matterhorn, plummeting for thousands of feet as she had into the passing haycart of migratory Bulgarian yodelers. She had not really expected ever to be sold into slavery in such a fashion, but at least she had become quite adept over the course of the next 5 years in the delicate art of Volgogradian chainmail making and had even felt a certain degree of gratitude that the yodelers had saved her from becoming a Swiss greasy spot despite their subsequent pleasure at the rubles they pocketed. How could she have known as her limbs flailed wildly through the Alpen sky that the nearing haycart was manned by those so very intent on getting out once and for all of the yodeling grind? After all, what with the laws of gravity being what they have been for so long, she was not really able to PICK her landing spot, now was she?

"ANDO! Pay attention!" the Queen snapped. "I was explaining what to do should your robin go into a forward roll."

Ando shuddered again, silently hoping against hope that any Bulgarian haycarts on the streets of Toronto were being driven by those more satisfied with their occupation.

"Do you understand?" Her Martiness asked the cast. As there was not one single indication of comprehension in their ranks, she continued. "It is important to remember that at no time and for no reason does a robin rider EVER dig his heels into the flanks of their bird."
                             

"Why?" asked Susan curiously. "What happens?"

The Queen sniffed loudly with only half-repressed grief. "I would ask the Prince Consort to explain... were he still...with...us."

"You realize," Himself said, his brow deeply creased, "that July has turned into August and I fear the filming may not last the week."

Braddock nodded dejectedly. Jewelie clutched Jim's arm, looking into his thin face with great concern. "If...if...you do not make this movie, Jim," she asked, "what will become of you... characterically-speaking?"

"I don't know," Jim replied. "This has never happened to a character before...not in the whole, entire history of Russelldom."

A look of absolutely fierce determination filled Himself's seagreen eyes. "Sid will NOT do this to me...no...nor to any of my folk!" he spat rather GoneWindedly. "Which robin is mine?" he shouted to the Queen.

Her Martiness gave a practiced low chirp and a particularly large, handsome, though slightly weathered robin bobbed forward. She placed her palm fondly on his side and said, "Take Sean. He's been around a long time and is quite adept at avoiding not only arrows, but lasers."

"There...there... are LASERS to avoid?" Ando asked nervously. It was not, truly, that the former Welshwoman had a quailing heart, only that she had learned how very unfairly dangerous epilife could be for such as she. Sean was followed by a younger robin.

"Here, Jim," Her Martiness continued, "you take Jason. He's Sean's son and quite good in his own right as far as robinhoodiness goes."

Ando narrowed her eyes as she turned to Sue. "Do you think there is some REASON for the way she's named her robins?"

"Quite possibly," Sue replied, following Cort off to mount the rather lovely Cary. She had never actually seen a robin wearing tights before. Maximus settled himself atop Douglas, doing his usual cape-pulling-out-from-under-his-backside movement he did even when ordering hell to be unleashed and all, then bent down and swung Joimus lightly up in front of himself. Well, actually, Phyllis rode with Himself. Joimus was, of course, with a lower case version.

As soon as everyone was mounted, the Queen upon Kevin with Jeff, she pressed a button on her remote control and the small door in the side of the mound swung quietly open.

Sid, alas, was staring absently at the horse mound at that very moment. His attention was immediately attracted by the little clods of mound dirt that began to roll down the slope, followed by the strange inward swing of the until-now hidden door. "AH!" was all he said. He stood, his tonguetip held lightly between his lips, and walked the several feet to the base of the mound, remembering again his fantasy of Maximus under his shoe. He closed his eyes a moment, enjoying the deliciousness of the anticipated feel of General juices being squished out onto the walkway and, so, was totally unprepared for the sudden flapping of wings and the quick crack of Sue's tiny whip against his left nostril.

He staggered backwards from the sharp sting, almost losing his balance, as two dozen robins flew past his face then soared high over the treetops in an easterly direction. His narrowed seagreen eyes angrily followed their flight for a moment as he rubbed his forefinger on the throbbing nostril. Then he put his hand into the breast pocket of his suit coat, reaching for a small mechanical plot device rather similar in appearance to the one he had on Droogheeda, and pushing a red button.

Soon the air above him was filled with whirling, swooping seagulls. He pointed silently after the robins and they were off, giving loud fierce battle cries as they streaked away, their strong wings beating through the early morning sky.

 Maximus heard them coming and guided Douglas around in a sharp U-turn, hollering back to Himself and Jim, "Go on! I'll hold them off!"

"Not without me you don't!" shouted Jack, coming up on Richard 2 just off Douglas' right wingtip. Bud on Michael just grinned, coming up on the left, as Terry on Frank and Biebe on Brian fell in right behind with Cort on Cary and Hando on Barrie just to their rear.

"Wow!" said Berti, as, of course, each character had his woman held tightly before him, "I didn't know there were so many robins!"

"Just goes to show you what a good search engine can do," Joimus called over, grinning.

Himself was torn. HOW could he let his counterparts do aerial battle with the gulls whilst he, Himself, winged onward towards Maple Leaf Gardens?

As Jason came up beside Sean, Jewelie said, "Do it for Jim, Russell. If we don't get him to the set in time, he may not...continue...he may not...be."

Himself knew she was right, yet still he turned often, looking back towards his brave comcharacteriots. "I hope," he murmured softly and with some foreboding, "that Hando remembers not to dig his heels in."

Sean and Jason flew as the Crowe flies, straight east toward Carlton Street. The rest of the cast engaged the gulls in what would hereafter be known in the annals of aerial warfare as The Battle of Toronto. Never had so much grief been caused to so many gulls by so few robins. Churchill would've been proud! I fear to give all the gory details lest the SPICS (Society for the Prevention of Intolerable Cruelty to Seagulls) find offense. With the secret headquarters so nearby, the streets of Toronto fairly crawled with SPICS, alas.

Let us, therefore, merely report that Terry found new and creative uses for his equipment whilst airborne, Lachlan discovered certain wing feathers operated much like ailerons and was able to maintain lateral balance in death-defying aerobatics without once digging his heels in (Wanda only barfed twice), Jeffrey dropped trails of soy sauce that caused untold distress to countless gulls, and... well...you get the picture. It was magnificent!

A veritable shower of white feathers soon coated the city streets. They would have rejoined Himself and Jim much faster, though, had Hando not...you know...done that heel thing...and sent himself, Barrie and Ando into a tailspin, dropping like a rock toward the sidewalk cement below. Thank goodness for the migrating Bolivian and his uplifted flugelhorn! Precious minutes were lost, however, during the time it took the cast to get them successfully unwedged. Indeed, Terry's equipment was nearly reblunted and several feet of Colin's sideburns were lost in the effort. Meanwhile, Himself, Phyllis, Jim, and Jewelie had arrived at Maple Leaf Gardens.

Security was not very tight as, after all, it was Sandler and NOT Crowe in the starring role, and so, aided by being small, the four were able quite easily to get inside through one of the back entrances. Other than a brief scuffle with a large beetle

and Phyllis' close call with the falling percolator, they had no trouble tracking down Ron. He sat, rather sprawled and dejected-looking, in his director's chair, his right arm hanging limply down, loosely holding his megaphone. Russell adroitly clambered up the megaphone and Ron's arm, perching Himself carefully on the wooden arm of the chair. "RON!" he called as loudly as possible.

Ron was concentrating on the 49th of Sandler's 50 times of being knocked out. The movie was almost a wrap. ""RON!" Himself shouted again, to no avail. How would he ever make himself heard? Just then the rest of the cast arrived, gathering around the 3 cast members on the floor. Joimus, well aware of the Horton Hears A Who principle of doing things whilst terribly tiny, got everyone to holler in unison, "We are here...we are here...we are HERE!" The teensy hollerings all joined together, traveling upwards towards Ron's inner ear.

"Wha...what's that?" he said, sitting up straight and almost knocking Himself off the chair arm.

"RON!" shouted Himself, "It's ME!"

Ron looked down in amazement at the tiny form on the arm. Lowering his head, he peered at Himself. "YOU?" he said, puzzled and not just a little overwhelmed. "Where have you BEEN? Why are you so...so...tiny?" Before Himself could reply, Ron noticed the groupling of little folk on the floor. "NASH?" he said, leaning even lower. Russell hopped onto Ron's palm and was set carefully next to the others. Ron got down on knees and elbows, leaning his chin on his hands as he studied the extraordinary sight.

"It was Sid," Himself explained. "We...we... ended up this way when we broke out of his computer."

"You broke the screen?" Ron asked, perplexed. "Why did you do that?"

"It seemed the only way out," Himself replied.

Jim spoke up then. "Are we too late? Can anything be done about the movie?"

Ron looked from Jim over to where Sandler lay on his back in the ring. "Can anything be... done?" he repeated. "Can...anything...be done?" He had really hoped for Oscars for this film. Now he would be lucky to make two million at the box office. Without a word, he sprang to his feet, grabbed a nearby Coke bottle, and smashed the computer screen just behind him. "Here!" he said, holding out his palms. "Climb aboard."

It was a little tight, but the entire cast managed to fit themselves into his hands and he carried them up, turned and set them down inside the console. "Wait just a sec," he requested, then pressed 'scan', 'enlarge', and 'print.' Soon all of them popped one by one out of the printer tray, shook themselves into 3-Dness and stood before him completely restored. "Next time," Ron said firmly, "don't break the screen."

"Get him out of here!" he ordered two AD's, who carried Sandler out and deposited him in a golf cart where he more properly belonged than in a boxing ring.

"But," Jim pointed out, "you are on the final day of the shoot! Even with both Himself and myself doing scenes, there's just not TIME!"

Ron looked around at the 24 males. "Hmmmmm?" he hmmmed. "Not everyone's the right... um...condition...or...coloring... but with some wigs and a bit of FX, we could just probably pull it off!!!" He whipped out the script, giving a few pages to each of them. "You've got 5 minutes to learn your lines, get in costume, and report back here." All the rest of the day and even unto the wee hours of the night, he filmed.

                                  
Alex as Braddock would walk out one door and Arthur as Braddock would walk in another. And, so, when you see Cinderella Man next spring, be tolerant of the fact that Maximus refused to take off his cuirass for his boxing scene and that Colin's left sideburn popped out just as he lifted up one of his kids. Try not to notice that Jeffrey is talking to his manager and then Hando walks into the ring or that Nash comes beardless into the kitchen and furry Zack kisses his wife. Somehow...it works! And, after all, 24 versions of Russell all in one movie can't be all...that...bad!!!

Continued as "Journey into Jeopardy"