*A laugh comes from seemingly nowhere.*

Bobby: What's that?

Butch: What's so funny?

Slip: *Calls out* Charles, show yourself!

Butch: Yeah!

Bobby: Stop playing games!

Butch: Charles, come on!

*Chuck steps out of the shadows, directly in front of them.*

Chuck: Welcome, gentlemen.

Butch: Charles, where are the other knights?

Chuck: I can't tell you that.

Slip: *Growls* You know where they are.

Butch: Where are they? Where's Jane?

Chuck: *Shakes his head* That would be too easy.

Bobby: (Makes a face) Of course it would.

Butch: Couldn't you give us clues?

Chuck: No.

Bobby: Lord Charles, you're our friend, and we don't want to hurt you.

Butch: We want to help you!

Chuck: Who says I want help?

Bobby: The fact that this is about five hundred degrees from the Charles we know and love.

Butch: Please, Chu...Charles. Don't do this. Come back to us. Help us find the others.

Chuck: I don't want to. I'm useful to them. I feel important.

Slip: This makes you feel important?

Butch: How could hurting people make you feel important?

Bobby: There's other ways of gettin' attention.

Chuck: I'm sure there are.

Butch: Chu...Charles, please. Listen to us. We're your friends...your family. We care about you. (He puts his hand on Chuck's shoulder)

*Chuck swings a fist at Butch.*

(Butch growls and swings right back.)

Butch: You know I can play that game...and do it better than you.

Chuck: *stands nose to nose with Butch* Perhaps so, but I won't back down.

Butch: (Growls) I won't, either. I want Jane and the others back.

Chuck: And I can't give you that information.

Butch: You're acting like a five-year-old.

Chuck: Oh, am I?

Butch: You're acting silly. Why didn't you just tell your brother that you weren't happy?

Chuck: *His eyes narrow* Since when are you an expert?

Butch: (Mutters to Chuck) I'm your best friend. I've been your best friend for years. I know you better than anyone except for maybe Slip.

Chuck: *Grabs the front of Butch's shirt* Butt out.

Butch: Grow up.

*Chuck glares into Butch's eyes.*

Butch: (Jumps away) Oh no, you don't! I won't let you get to me like you did those knights!

Chuck: *Growls* You little jerk!

Butch: (He pulls out his guitar) I know you enjoy this. (Starts playing again)

*Chuck cries out and clamps his hands over his ears.*

Butch: Try anything like that again, and you'll get a ten-minute concerto.

*Chuck jumps at Butch.*

(Butch ducks away and hits him over the head with the guitar enough to stun him.)

*Chuck is sprawled on the ground, wincing.*

Slip: *Mutters to Butch* A small part of me thinks ya shoulda hit him harder.

Butch: (Mutters) I wish I could have, but I didn't want to damage him or my guitar too badly. We're going to need both later. (Out loud) Well, Lord Charles, do you see that we mean business?

Chuck: *Pushes up on his elbows* So you can hit? Big deal.

Butch: We will not be swayed by you or your mistress..es' spells.

Chuck: *Sits up* Isn't that nice? *winces and rubs his head* Oooh... *He takes his hand away from his head. His eyes widen upon seeing a little blood on his fingers.*

Slip: *Mutters* Shit, thatís real!

Butch: Oh... (mutters to Chuck) I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit you that hard!

*Chuck just looks up at him, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face.*

Butch: I just wanted to stun you, not draw blood! (Out loud) Come with us, Lord Charles. We could have the King's physician take a look at that cut.

Chuck: *slightly shakes his head* No...I'm fine...

*Slip mutters a curse, then goes over to Chuck and physically picks him up. Slip holds Chuck's arms behind his back. Chuck attempts to struggle, but itís weak.*

Butch: Take us to your mistress...es, so we can get that cut looked at.

*They head off stage, and we get a set change.*

(The set returns to the sorceresses' lair. Sheila putters around again, while Zelda paces.)

Sheila: (As she mixes something in a bowl) Relax, Zelda. I'm sure he'll be back in a few minutes with fresh fodder for us.

Zelda: But almost every time he returns we have to hypnotize him again. Isn't there any way we can make it permanent?

Sheila: I'm working on something that may... (We hear the creak of a door opening) Ah ha! I believe he has returned.

*Chuck has indeed returned... surrounded by Slip, who still holds one of his arms, and Butch and Bobby.*

Sheila: Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in!

Butch: Don't get ideas, lady. He's hurt.

Bobby: And we're here for our friends, not for your twisted ideas of fun.

Sheila: (She goes to Chuck with a handkerchief) Oh, don't be a baby. It's just a little cut! Won't even require stitches.

*Zelda raises an eyebrow though, noticing a change in Chuck's demeanor. He simply watches Sheila as she dabs at the cut.*

Sheila: (Raises an eyebrow at how he looks at her) What? Is there something stuck between my teeth?

Butch: Lord Charles?

Bobby: Are you...all right?

Chuck: I...I don't know...

Sheila: (She pulls the pot over to him) Perhaps a sip of this will make you feel better?

Butch: No! It's probably one of her hexes!

Slip: Get that away from him!

Bobby: He's right! She'll turn you into a frog or something!

Sheila: (Looks over her shoulder; makes a face) Could the peanut gallery please keep their comments to themselves?

Butch: No! He's my...he's one of the king's advisors, and I will not let you treat him like this!

Zelda: Hurry up and give it to him!

Sheila: Here. Enjoy. (Hands the pot to him)

Butch: No! (He lunges for Chuck)

*Chuck raises the pot to his lips.*

Slip: Stop! *also lunges for Chuck*

Sheila: (She and Zelda step in front of Chuck) Not so fast, Lord Terrence!

Bobby: Let us through!

Butch: I am not adverse to playing this for you, too. (Holds up the guitar)

Sheila: These little brats are really starting to bug me.

Slip: We'll give you brats!

*Meanwhile, Chuck is drinking the contents of the pot.*

Sheila: (Ignores Slip; turns to Chuck) How do you feel now, my little Child of Darkness?

Butch: He's not a Child of Darkness!

Chuck: *Puts the pot down* Yes, I am.

Bobby: Charles?

Butch: Not again!

Sheila: We'll need help in dealing with these wretches.

Slip: Yer gonna need help all right!

Butch: (Mutters to Slip) That wasn't in the script! You're just gonna make Chuck even more mad!

(Bobby has already lunged for Chuck.)

Slip: *Mutters* I don't give a shit. *also goes after Chuck*

*Chuck spins around Bobby and hits him in the lower back.*

(Bobby lets out a yelp and falls to the ground, his hand on his back.)

Slip: *Pauses, his eyes wide* What in the hell's gotten into you, kid!?

Bobby: Chu...Lord Charles, you know how badly my back pains me...ow...

Chuck: *Smirks* Why do you think I did it?

Sheila: Well, well. We found a weak spot on the baby-faced Lord Jordan. (Turns to Chuck) What about your brother?

Chuck: *Beckons Slip* Come on, big brother. Come on and fight.

Butch: No! (He strums his guitar)

Sheila: Zelda, get that instrument away from him!

*Zelda goes after Butch. Slip goes after Chuck.*

Butch: (She grabs at his guitar) No way! This is my prize possession! (He tries to pull it away from her)

Zelda: Give me that! It's a lethal weapon!

Butch: Music means more to me than anything.

(Sheila leans down and whispers something into Bobby's ear, stroking his head. There's a puff of smoke around him...during which, we just barely see him walk offstage in the haze. When it subsides, she holds a frog. It's obviously a wind-up toy.)

Sheila: That gets that one out of our hair. (She puts the "frog" in a cage on the table.) Now, what to do with the other two?

Zelda: This one belongs in the dungeon!

Sheila: (She smirks and strokes the back of Butch's neck, distracting him long enough to release the guitar) You know, Zelda, this one has a very strong will.

Butch: (Gasps; then) Get off of me.

Zelda: *Nods* He certainly does.

Sheila: What if we molded that will to our purpose?

Zelda: *Runs her fingers along Butch's arm* I think it would certainly be worth our while.

Butch: Stop that...ooh.... (Sheila runs her fingers down his neck)

Sheila: (Runs further down his neck) I think we could do wonderful things with you. (Over her shoulder) How is Lord Terrence coming, Charles?

*Chuck has Slip on the floor on his stomach, with one arm pulled behind his back. Slip is wincing.*

Chuck: Quite well, I'd say.

Sheila: Why don't we take both of these to the dungeon? I have no interest in Lord Terrence, but Charles does, and perhaps Zelda would like him? (Turns to her)

Zelda: *Smirks* I certainly would.

Sheila: And we can work on this little one. He could serve us well.

Butch: N...no...would never serve you...

Zelda: I wouldn't be so sure about that.

Butch: Noooo!

Sheila: He may need to be subdued to get him downstairs without a fuss.

Butch: Please, don't...

Zelda: It certainly seems like it.

*Zelda runs her fingers along Butch's neck and jaw.*

(Butch's eyes close, and he falls into Zelda's arms...though his eyes are fluttering, and it's obvious that he's awake.)

Zelda: *Smirks* Excellent.

Sheila: (Mutters to Zelda) It's a shame we can't really put them to sleep like that. I'm afraid what we can do doesn't extend that far.

Zelda: *Nods; mutters* It would sure be handy.

(Zelda carries Butch out and Chuck drags Slip. Sheila follows, smirking, as we fade out.)