The stage at Afterlife Salamandastron was empty, and the audience, consisting of all the characters in the Redwall series. They watched and waited with baited breath as the first participant, Splitnose, swaggered onto stage.
"Hello, me ole' muckers! Terday I will be on stage wi' me mukker..."
Romsca ran onstage and took a bow.
"Oi thar, me 'earties. 'S Romsca!" Romsca said amidst the cheers of the characters.
"Splitnose! So good teh see ye! I 'aven't seen ye since the time 'o yer rebirth! Are we gonna begin, 'r what??"
Splitnose smiled, showing his gap-toothed grin.
"Sure we can, me ole' friend!"
"Right! So, ow're weh doin' dis? Am ah askin' ye qustions, are ye arskin' meh questions or are weh jus' talkin'?
The curtain behind the pair parted, revealing a large badger. He tilted his head in acknowledgement of Splitnose and Romsca.
"Hello, you two. Tonight is a special celebration of the fact that I have permitted vermin to take part in the Afterlife Talk Show." the vermin in the audience cheered. The badger cleared his throat loudly.
"My name is Brocktree, Lord of this mountain, and I will be hosting this event. Now, Splitnose, Romsca, how do you feel about your respective vermin Warlords, Tsarmina Greeneyes and Ublaz Mad Eyes?"
Romsca rubbed his hands together nervously. "Well, ye see, Ublaz was--ain't-- half bad. Sure, 'e made some not too great decisions, but 'e wasn't a bad guy. Naow, 'is Moniter general on da oder paw... Naow 'e was a bad beastie."
Denya strolled into the studio, "I am not late am I Brock?"
The badger chuckled, holding his paw out to his old friend.
"Certainly not! Now, these two were just talking about their vermin generals. I don't suppose you'd like to tell us a bit about Sawney Rath?
Denya stroked his chin thoughtfully, "He was a suborn and cruel creature, but he never did anything against me and always encouraged me. In the back of my mind something tells me there was more to him than most people thought."
Lord Brocktree nodded thoughtfully.
"Maybe we could get him up on stage someday."
Denya nodded in agreement, "Might be nice to catch up, I hate to admit it, but we have be avoiding each other ever since I arrived. And with good reason"
Brocktree turned his gaze to Splitnose and Romsca.
"What about you two? Have anything to say about your bosses?"
*Cluny bursts on stage, kicking furniture and toppling stuff over as he makes his way to the center of the frame*.
"Well, well... whatever have we here? Who among you was foolish enough to try to hide this thing from the Scourge himself?!"
*Cluny takes a seat on the couch nearest to the host*.
"I believe that the... topic of discussion has suddenly changed. A favorable change for sure. And I'm sure that your audience is really going to enjoy learning all about me, wouldn't you agree?" *With a swift movement, Cluny sinks several inches of his sword on the desk immediately next to the nervous host*.
Lord Brocktree reflected that his age had not in any way improved either his mental or physical health. The old badger wearily offered a slice of pizza to the giant rat.
"This is the afterlife, Mr. I can't die again. Care for a slice of pizza? It's meat lover's."
Splitnose squealed and ran behind a curtain, screeching. He trembled slightly, whipping a butter knife from his belt and holding it out defensively in his shaking paws.
With a dull boom the door leading to the stage slammed shut. A hulking, weary wildcat strode to the stage and took a seat directly across the desk from Lord Brocktree.
"I heard you were suddenly allowing folk like me in." Verdauga said, dismissing the idea of an invitation. "Well, do I get pizza too, or is it only offered to rats with delusions of grandeur?"
Brocktree smiled from behind his glasses. Here, at least, was a wildcat with a little sense.
"Take all you want!" The old badger gestured to the towering pile of pizza that had appeared out of thin air. "Why don't you tell us a little about your career as leader of the Thousand-Eye Army?"
Splitnose, who had come out from behind the curtain, raised the knife as if to plunge it into Verdauga's shoulder. The stoat had a terrified gleam in his eyes. He hated wildcats. Hated armies. Hated tyrants.
Verdauga grabbed a slice of pizza and raised it to his mouth, before placing it uneaten on his plate and replying.
"There were plenty of regional mobs to clear out before I could start ruling. They'd scatter after a confrontation, so my army got spread thin tracking them down. Pays to have a well-trained army, I'll say."
He rolled his eyes. "How do you badger lords do it? Logistic issues were my greatest foe, refurnishing Kotir notwithstanding. It's akin to herding fireflies!"
Grumm pushed open the door with a footpaw, his forepaws both occupied, one hold a scone and the other clutching his ladle, which he proceeded to wave under a rat's nose disapprovingly.
"You'm ee gurtly bagged beast! Leave ee poor woildcat be. Knoives aren't fur playing wit' yurr."
Shaking his head and taking another bite of his scone, Grumm trundled over to the other side of the stage, waving his ladle again as he took a seat.
"Oi just sittin' yurr awhoile. You'm bain't needen to moind oi."
Brocktree adjusted his glasses, bemused.
"Grumm, is it? Where'd you get tickets from? I thought we were sold out!"
Splitnose sidled away, grinning guiltily. Brocktree reached out absentmindedly and grabbed the stoat's paw. "Not so fast, Splitnose."
Splitnose gulped.
"Why don't you tell Verdauga what you thought of his Thousand-Eye Army?"
Verdauga cast an eye at Splitnose. "I would indeed like to know what you think of my leadership."
The stoat gulped loudly. "it was, yes, it was very good sir, yes, good. Sir."
Grumm slid his ladle into his belt and tapped a heavy digging claw on the side of his head meaningfully, though what it meant was anybeast's guess.
"Oi bain't known we be needen ee tickits, zurr. Oi 'polingoise gurtly."