Let us roll back the inexorable march of time for a while, reader. For even as Eldritch engages in her dance with death, another dance is about to be hijacked. Youthful faces mill about in an auditorium slowly navigating the treacherous currents of a young dancefloor. Wary of the eyes of the adult chaperones and the far more attentive eyes of one another they slowly find the courage to enter the dancefloor. The pulse of the music provides a heady thrum and counterpoint to the nerves running wild through the building. But another runs wild through the building, one masked miscreant.

His soft footfalls would be inaudible even without the music below. High up in the rafters he performs his own lilting dance across the delicate beams. One false step would sent him plunging down to the students below. Nevertheless, these nimble feet step true without hesitation and without fear. For these feet belong to none other than Tango!

Yes, dear reader, this is that reprehensible reprobate that once had the city dancing to his tune during his terror of the tap-dance halls and fearing his musical mayhem under the effects of the... what, dear reader? You've never heard of those nefarious plots? Well perhaps you'd recognize Tango from his role as the songbird of slaughter during the events of singing September? No? Truly? Well fear not dear reader, for terrible Tango is about to be on full display.

Yes, here and now this cruel villain reaches forth with a pair of wicked clippers intending to slice the jugular feeding the revelry below. Dear reader, Tango's intent tonight is to sever the power line that connects the DJ to the sound system!

Without the sharp clip of the music, how will the students below engage in the hesitant shuffle that makes up the pathetic excuse they call a dance? How will the chaperones mask the sound of their yawns? How will Mr. and Mrs. Rutter hide their canoodling beneath the bleachers below? All these reprobates will be exposed under the sharp swan song of Tango's scheme!

There! In an instant, all is lost as that wicked deed is complete plunging the hall into sudden silence. Confused the students mill about below, not changing much from the aggressive writhing passed off as dancing before. At the accusing glares, the DJ holds his hands out pleading innocence. Still Mr. Rutter emerges from behind the bleachers and marches over intent upon doling out a reprimand commensurate with the occasion.

But all this is smoke and mirrors as Tango steals his way back down the beams to the catwalk. Following that steel tightrope, he finds a ladder, slides down and comes face to face with a set of stairs back to the stadium proper. From there he marches down to the ground level where the festivities remain in intermission. The partygoers' lack of panic puts him in a poor mood for an instant, but Tango knows this confusion will soon give way to fear.

Fear that will fuel his thieving spree. Students may not carry great wealth on them, but tonight things are different. For tonight, desperate teens have borrowed precious status symbols from parents in a vain attempt to impress members of the opposite sex. Boys drive high priced cars, girls sport diamond earrings, and all that glitters truly is golden. But tonight all these precious metals will end up in the hands of Tango, all things going according to plan.

A plan that unfolds below as the worried students huddle together in confusion. Striding out into the dance floor the chaperones ask everyone to remain calm and allow them to sort out the issues with the audio. But those issues will not be sorted out! For attracting everyone to the dance floor is Tango's goal tonight and he does so by dangling his own speaker from the rafters. Then with an ominous crackle, hiss, and spray of feedback the sound of Tango's chilly voice emanates forth!

"Good evening St. Cecilia High partygoers. We interrupt this pathetic show of dancing don'ts for a very special announcement. Please report to the dancefloor all you pimple faced pubescents."

Pausing for a moment as everyone huddles closer to the source of the sound, Tango then resumes.

"Yessssss, closer children. Just a littttttlllllleeee closer. Why is that you Mrs. Rutter? Your hair looks a little mussed are you feeling quite okay? Hahahaha DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE!"

At this, a metallic clang rings through the auditorium and a massive cage falls down upon the hapless guests. Then from the rafters a slew of suited gangsters dive down and begin to bolt down the bars, attaching them to the floor. The voice then rings out again, "So listen up ladies and gentlemen. Tonight you'll be dancing to Tango's tune! And by that, I mean you'll be relieved of your parent's valuables or you'll stay stuck on the dancefloor all night. Yesss line up, that's right -I SAID LINE UP. Good, now one by one you'll be allowed to leave so long as you hand over all your shiny baubles." Almost as an afterthought, Tango adds, "Oh and don't try to call anyone. The cage is a Fair-a-day kind, that means no cell signals in or out."

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Mr. Rutter groans and exclaims, "That's just unfair! And did he even pronounce that right?"

Down below the masked and suited thugs begin to relieve the attendees of everything they own worth taking, much to the indignation of a certain policeman's daughter.

In a hushed whisper she leans over to her date and hisses, "Pssstttt, hey Jake, Jake, hey you!"

"Ya whatya want Miss, ya gonna get us kilt if ya dun't shut it!"

"Not in a heartbeat Jake, these two-bit-thugs of Tango's aren't worth the suits they're in. He gets his crew from the local dance halls, none of these ninnys could take either of us in a fair fight."

"Ya but Miss it ain't a fair fight!" Jake protests. "There's about thirty of them twinkle toe types and just two of us!"

"But we could make a break for it. Inside the dome my cell isn't working. If we could get out of the cage with our phones, we could call the police and chase these villains off.

"Sure Miss, but ya gotta admit it ain't exactly a sure thing. There's one door, two of us, and at least three guards in reach the whole time."

"You're counting it wrong Jake. That's one phone we need to get out, two of us, and three guards about to be chasing an escaping kid!"

"Aww Miss," Jake whines, "ya know they're gonna bust up my face sumthin fierce."

"Hey pretty boy, I promise to still like you anyways," Missy says with a smile and wink. "Besides you and I both know eventually dating a cop's daughter would catch up with you. I mean you were gonna take it too far some night and I'd have to put you back in your place the hard way."

"Alright, alright Miss. But ya owe me on this one."

"Deal ya big lug." Missy's voice then lowers and becomes more serious as she adds, "But seriously, be careful. All I need is a couple seconds so don't go and be a hero."

"Promises, promises darlin' ya know I ain't gonna say no to ya."

Missy snorts. "Liar, liar but I'll take being wrong this time."

"Good, on three. One... two... three!"

At this whispered intonation, Jake springs forth barreling down the thugs standing at the entrance of the gate. By spinning his way past them in a move straight off the football field, he avoids the first set of Tango's minions.

Then just one remains! Lunging forth the final villain dives arms extended. Almost as a spear, he thrusts his whole body in an attempt to tackle the escaping boy! But another move from the football field diverts this diving dancer. Jake's vaunted stiff-arm plants the henchmen straight into the dancefloor. Vaulting over him Jake begins to sprint forth in an attempt to escape the hall.

Recognizing the danger, the three immediately move to capture the escapee. As they abandon their vigil, a diminutive figure dances forth out of the cage. This tiny lady is none other than Missy Anderson! As she rolls out of the cage, she begins spamming the send button on her phone. The remaining dancers all mill about in confusion; this wasn't in their stage notes!

Tango screeches from his perch atop the dome, "CATCH HER YOU FOOLS!"

Springing into action the adorably attired Adonis-es dash down towards our heroine. Yet her grin is wider than Tango's tonight as she sees her cell has sent out its emergency warning to her ever-vigilant father. As the dancers twirl her towards Tango, the sound of sirens breaks through the night.

Tango's vile smirk drains from his face as the sound cuts through the auditorium. Whirling about in a perfect pirouette, he shouts at Missy, "You've summoned the stage crew eh? Well it'll be curtains for me and curtains for you then! Boys, truss that stool pigeon up and let's exeunt stage left!"

But Jake has other plans for his damsel in distress. He rapidly discovered the preening popinjays of the theatre hardly could handle the tough terror of the Martyr's football squad! Jake's physique proved too formidable for the followers of Tango and a few punted behinds later, he made his way back from his retreat to see his gal in the process of tussling with the stage crew. Leaping at them, he bellows the war cry of the Martyr's, "FOR GOD AND GIRLS!"

Momentarily struck by the grandiose entrance, Tango's team is petrified and unable to twist themselves out of Jake's path. Falling into them and flailing about with his fists Jake manages to distract the dancers tasked with trying up Missy. She takes full measure of the opportunity, first squirming her way out of the bonds and second landing a police daughter's precise punches in the nearby nether regions of the faux foes.

Angered by the understudies' failure, Tango's face contorts into a visage of primadonna rage. Yet no recourse is available to him other than to escape into the night with the small bag of trinkets he has already accumulated. The remnants of his force see him seek an intermission and decide to do the same, stepping away from their vigil on the dome and scattering offstage. But for Missy and Jake, the villains won't be escaping. Together they truss up the tap-dancers in the same fashion they intended to truss Missy and await the arrival of her father.

His arrival signals the end of the night's festivities, at least for Tango! A quick fix by the school's shop class teacher, Mr. Pärt, restarts the booming thump of the speakers-although no efforts can salvage the DJ's playlist or the squirming gyrations of the students. But tonight goes down a success, with the loss of some of his gang Tango will doubtless slink backstage until the second act of his nefarious plotting. So for now the city is safe, despite the absence of Eldritch.

Another crisis averted! This time without the assistance of Eldritch, proving that resiliency is not the sole domain of the enchanted. A point we will see again next week as we meet Ginger Snap, a maven of mechanical mayhem in... "A Sour Sixteen!"