Selma The Spectacular

At first, when Selma was trying to come up with a stage name, she kept coming up with the most ridiculous alliterations known to humanoid kind. First of all, there was Selma The Slimy! Then there was Selma The Great Salamander! Then, the most horrific of them all, (and that sadly was saying something) was Selma The Squidinator!  She’d even bowed after that one… to lack luster applause. All of the names that she’d come up with had seemed to fall down crying and then crumble into dust and then fade away into the vast void of nothingness… 

No, she needed an amazing name! A name with purpose! A name that would drive the audience wild with the pleasure of hearing it, a name like— 

Selma The Remarkable! No, no, that wouldn’t work because it wasn’t an alliteration. Something more like— 

SELMA THE SPECTACTACULAR, LAR, Lar, lar, lar— 

YES! That had definitely been the right choice. She’d even donned a cape. It was silver and blue, and she could swish it around when she was doing anything spectacular, like performing! She’d stitched her name on the back of it in bright silver and blue letters too (just in case the audience had forgotten who she was). Selma, also wore with her super cool-incredible-spectacular cape, a big wizards hat: blue with silver stars. She had to stay consistent in her appearance— that was important. Plus, the blue and silver brought out her glamour’s blonde curly hair, big bright blue eyes, and her performer cheekbones as high as the sky.  

Even though she wasn’t a wizard, which anyone could probably spot since her hat was too big and kept falling over her eyes, she had to keep up a certain amount of mystique for her fans. She had about two (maybe three) who always showed up when she performed. They were great, always ordering more beer and yelling compliments at her (which she tried ever so hard to understand, but just couldn’t because they were always slurred), and throwing things like food to get her attention. It was marvelous!  

Some nights she felt bad, because she couldn’t preform at The Sloppy Seconds, where her fans were, but that was okay. She performed around at other places like: The Swanky Balls, and The Beefy Pillows, and The Sleazy Seaman. All great establishments. Armed with her trusty mandolin, Mandy, there was nothing that Selma could not do.  

One night while she’d been preforming the ballad: You’re the Reason Why Our Kids Are So Ugly (it was supposed to be from a giant’s point of view) she’d caught the attention of a traveling Bard. That had been wonderful! He’d told her that he’d especially loved the line: If farts are like mountains then I’d still sleep with you—, and they’d sat down for a drink. His name was The Great Julius. It turned out that The Great Julius was from the College of Lore and he was so impressed by her preforming ability that he was going to teach her everything he knew! For a small fee, of course. Nothing in Cortuum was free, unfortunately.  

Selma however didn’t care about money, she only cared about becoming THE GREATEST PERFORMER IN THE WORLD! And she could learn all of that from The Great Julius. He was suave and debonair. He had perfectly straight white teeth, smoldering dark brown eyes that touch the soul, and a smirking mouth that spewed the most amazing poetry that she had ever heard! He was just—well he was just GREAT! 

Over the next year, Selma learned what it was really like to be a bard. She learned to quote philosophers like: Theodora Shrew, known for her shrewd business practices (The question isn’t who is going to let me, it’s who’s going to stop me); and Ockham the Ockman (Humanoids are aware deep down that they live solitary poor, nasty, and short lives; which is the statue of nature). Selma wasn’t sure that she agreed with Ockham the Ockman, who ironically lived to be three hundred years old and was considered the oldest hypocrite in philosophy.  

Her favorite thing that she’d learned from The Great Julius was a sea-shanty, though. She couldn’t help but want to preform it every night. It was called Mermaids Love Whiskey, and it went like this:  

O- the seaman gave her some whiskey, 

To rise her up from below, 

But she liked it so much that she sunk him, 

And gained all of his cargo—!  

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o 

Now whiskey is the life of a mermaid, 

And she’ll break the seaman’s nose, 

So, if you see a mermaid you need to pay her in— booze! Ha ha 

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o 

Pass around the whiskey, 

Pour a glass of wine,  

But never be caught on board with whiskey,  

Unless you want to drown— Ha ha 

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o 

She’ll come up and get you from below!  

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o!  

With her trusty mandolin, Mandy, Selma could do now wrong.  The audiences and patrons were practically screaming her name by the time she was done with her sets and she gained a lot of fruit and vegetables each night, which kept her healthy!  Money, however, wasn’t coming in droves like she’d expected. So, she left The Great Julius (parting was such sweet sorrow) and joined up with a mercenary group. She’d named them: The Mercenaries of Mediocre Magic! Travel, adventure, daring, and money! All rolled up into one. 

However, no one else had liked the name that Selma had dubbed them with (but the original name had been boring). So, she acquiesced and began calling them The Mighty Merc’s! In hindsight it was a better decision... Anyways, it was super exciting and now she had some new friends too! Ready to go forth on ADEVENTURE, URE, Ure, ure, ure—.