Minding her own business, Lina Inverse is suddenly grabbed by a pair of powerful hands as she walks past her hut. One of the hands goes over her mouth to keep her from screaming, then Gourrigan’s voice hisses in her ear:

Gourrigan:    Did you see him anywhere?

Lina:            Mfee mfoo?

Gourrigan:    Zangulus!

Lina shakes her head, no, so Gourrigan releases her. After beating him up, Lina demands in the same hissing whisper he used:

Lina:             What is your problem?!

Gourrigan:        Zangulus is my problem! He’s everywhere! In the outhouse: "Fight me!", at dinner: "Fight me!", at the beach: "Fight me!", when I’m trying to sleep: "Fight me!" I can’t take it anymore!

Lina:            Well, what do you want me to do about it?

Gourrigan:    I dunno! Fireball him, or something? Or maybe use one of those mind control spells?

Lina:            That’s Rezo’s angle. Did you ask him?

Gourrigan:    He says I should just fight him—but I do! If I don’t he just follows me around until I do!

Lina:            Who wins?

Gourrigan gives her a withering look.

Lina:            So maybe if you let him win, he’ll leave you alone.

Gourrigan:    That’d be dishonorable! And it’d only make him fight me more because me letting him win wouldn’t count. He’d know. I’m a rotten liar and I can’t fake my sword skills! I wish he’d just take his freaky wife and leave!

Lina:            They can’t leave, dummy, that’s the premise of this show: We’re all stuck here.

Gourrigan:    Nuh-uh! Just us who wrecked in the Noonza! So, Zangulus, Martina, Naga and Sylphiel can leave any time! All they need is a plot device.

Lina:            Naga can leave?

Gourrigan:    Find her a plot device, and she’s outta here. But we gotta get rid of Zangulus, Lina! I’m going nuts!

From a distance…

Zangulus:    Gourrigan! I know you’re on this island somewhere! Come out and fight me!

Gourrigan:    See?

Lina:            Why is he doing this to you?

Gourrigan:    Hell if I know, Lina! He just is!

Lina:            Have you asked him?

Gourrigan:   Ask him?! Lina, he’s a stalker! You can’t reason with a stalker!

Lina:          Who said anything about reasoning with him? All I suggested was asking him why he’s chasing you around, telling you to—

Zangulus:  FIGHT ME, GOURRIGAN!

L & G:          GAH!

Lina and Gourrigan practically jump out of their skins when Zangulus appears on the roof of the girls’ hut and makes his loud demand. Lina nudges Gourrigan in the biceps.

Lina:        Well, go on…ask him!

Gourrigan sighs and decides, what the hell. He has nothing to lose.

Gourrigan: Why do I have to keep fighting you, anyway?

Zangulus is somewhat taken aback by that question and sputters in confusion for a few seconds. He sits down on the roof to think about it.

Zangulus: I dunno. I just…have this need inside of me to cross swords with the most brilliant swordsman I can find. (grins) Heh. Other than myself, of course.

Lina:        If you’re so brilliant, how come Gourrigan keeps kicking your butt?

Zangulus: Well, I didn’t say I was perfect.

Gourrigan: What if I don’t wanna fight you anymore? Don’t you even stop to think about my feelings? Or is this just all about you, Zangulus? Can’t you work out your Freudian need to wield your phallus upon your wife? Or is there some deficiency there that you’re trying to make up for by clashing phallic symbols with a man who’s bigger, stronger and more skillful than yourself…perhaps believing that by defeating such a man in honest combat, you will redeem the worth and perceived prowess of your penis?

Blink. Blink. Blink. Gourrigan waits for an answer for a few seconds before realizing he’s just blown his "big, dumb blonde" cover in a, great, big, psychoanalytical supernova. Much to his surprise, Lina makes a quick recovery and goes with his line of reasoning.

Lina:          Gourrigan, while your theory holds some merit, I believe part of the problem very likely lies in his childhood! He’s probably living out some performance crisis from his formative years, aggravated by overbearing, overachieving parents, who belittled him over every failure. By defeating the best swordsman in the world—you—he will prove to his parents that he’s not a failure.

Gourrigan:     And let’s not forget his castrating shrew of a wife! Martina is a nice enough woman but she henpecks him mercilessly. I agree with your theory about the possible role of his childhood experiences but must add this: Zangulus might just be fighting me to have an excuse to be away from his demanding bride.

Lina:        Ah! But is it because she’s, as you put it, a "castrating shrew", or (and this goes back to your original theory) is it because he can’t perform up to her expectations and so must perform up to some other expectation? You, I assume, couldn’t care less about his penis, am I right?

Gourrigan:     Correct. And to that I would add that I don’t really care about his sword, either, which would make these little battles moot.

Meanwhile, back on the roof, the man himself is trying really hard to be invisible. With each theory put forth by the two Freudians below, he alternately hides his manhood and his sword, turns red, looks sheepish, then masters his emotions with clenched fists upraised.

Zangulus:  Isn’t that just like a couple of sex-obsessed Freudians to assume the root of every problem lies either in the patient’s childhood or his pants! Have you considered, even for a moment, that I just love to duel, and no other man in the world even comes close to being a true challenge, except for Gourry? And furthermore, I love my wife, who is not a castrating shrew and does not henpeck me! She’s a beautiful, brave, intelligent, sexy woman, to whom I’m going to go show my undying affection—using my perfectly functional, very impressive phallus—right now!

He leaps from the roof and storms through the door, shouting for all but Martina to clear out for a few hours. There’s the sound of argument, most loudly from Naga and Amelia, then the door flies open and Amelia, Naga, Firia and Sylphiel stomp out in a major huff. Each girl is wrapped in a towel and clutches her bathing suit.

Amelia:        Man! What I wouldn’t give for a plot device right about now!

Naga:        Ah! Ha-ha! You won’t find one on this island, Princess!

Firia:        They have simply got to go!

Sylphiel: You said it! C’mon, girls, let’s go find a plot device!

Naga:         Ahhh! Ha-ha-ha! Or some bishounen! Why should we be left out of the fun, hm?

Firia:         I hear there’s a whole island of them not far from this one…

Naga:         Well, then! Let’s find that plot device! Ah! Ha-ha!

As she watches the girls charge off into the jungle, Lina mutters:

Lina:        Am I the only one who doesn’t know about this plot device thing?

Gourrigan: ‘Fraid so. I think Xellos thought of it. He’s supposed to be the brains on this show, right?

Lina:         Yeah, I think so. Think he’s studied Freud?

Gourrigan: I’ll bet Zelgadis has! (grimaces) I mean, with his relationship to Rezo and everything.

THE QUEST FOR A DECENT PLOT DEVICE

Bravely do our intrepid explorers tramp through the wilds of Gourrigan’s Island in nothing but their swimwear, their one goal to find the elusive Plot Device that can free them from the terrors of the amorous Zangulus and Martina! Many times does one girl cry out that she’s found something, only to have their hopes dashed when it turns out to just be a dried up bit of Funky Fruit. After many hours of useless searching, the girls collapse on the beach in exhaustion as the sun sets over the sea.

Amelia:         This sucks, you guys!

Firia:         It’s hopeless! We don’t even know what we’re looking for!

Sylphiel: Do you think the writer would know?

SPROING! The girls exchange knowing looks. Naga cackles. Filled with renewed energy, the girls jump up and dash off down the beach in search of the writer, creator of The Plot Device. However, the usually buttinski Queen of Swords is for once nowhere to be found. Well, not in the usual places, at least, and the girls check them all—they even check the beaches twice! But no Queen. Weary and defeated, the girls drag themselves back to the village through the dark jungle in despair.

Sylphiel: Where could she be?

Amelia:         She’s like a cop: Never around when you need her!

Naga:         But always there when you don’t want her! Ah! Ha-ha!

They wait, sure that Naga’s snide comment will bring the Queen and her stash of Plot Devices out of the woodwork, but no dice. So they plod on until they reach the clearing where the living area is. Rezo and Xellos are at the table, Rezo reading a Braille book while Xellos builds a house of cards.

Amelia:        Where’s Zelgadis?

Rezo:        Getting his head shrunk by Gourrigan and Lina.

Amelia:        How barbaric!

Xellos:        Psychoanalysis, Princess. Zel’s having a session with his new therapists, the Freudian Nightmares.

The girls sit down at the table, fearing to return to their own hut since neither Zangulus nor Martina is in evidence.

Firia:      What does Jellyfish Brains know about the higher sciences?

Sylphiel:   Hey! He’s smarter than you think!

Xellos:     She’s right, you know. It would appear that airhead routine was just an act to hide the fact that he’s a genius. And here all along I thought he was some kind of idiot savant.

Rezo:     He says he studied psychiatry and even had a brief practice before his father died and he inherited the family sword slinger business. So now he’s using his education to help Zelgadis deal with his relationship with me. Woo-hoo.

Rezo twirls his finger in the air in a very bored way. The breeze from his sleeve is enough to knock down Xellos’ card house. The Trickster just giggles and starts over.

Rezo:     He’s probably talking about you, too, you little stalker.

Amelia:     I am not a stalker! You take that back, you red rat! Ooh, I’m too tired to deal with it.

Xellos:     Questing go badly, ladies?

They nod miserably, except for Naga, who is already sound asleep with her head on her arms. To either side of her, Sylphiel and Firia are starting to snooze, as well. Amelia yawns and pillows her head on her arms, too.

Amelia:     So where are Zangulus and Martina? Can we have our hut back yet, or did they develop super-human endurance while I was gone?

Xellos grins a lewd sort of grin (for him), which tells Amelia she’ll be spending the night right where she’s sitting so she better get used to it.

Amelia:     (yawn) And where’s the Queen, huh? I’ll bet she’s hiding ‘cause she (yaaaawwwwnnn) doesn’t want to give us a plot device to get Martina and Zangulus off the island and out of our (yawn) hair.

Xellos:     Haven’t seen her.

Rezo:     Guess you’re out of luck.

Amelia:    Easy for you to say. They didn’t kick you out of your hut!

Rezo:     No, but our little psychoanalysts did.

Xellos:     Guess we’re all spending the night here! How cozy! Would anyone like a cocktail?

Rezo:     Martini. Shaken, not stirred.

The girls snore. From their hut come the sounds of marital bliss. From the guys’ hut come unintelligible mumbles. Xellos summons the makings of a vodka martini, shaken not stirred, and mixes Rezo a drink. A few minutes later, the silence is broken by Zangulus’ orgasmic shout:

Zangulus: FIGHT ME, GOURRIGAN!

Martina:         NO, ZANGULUS! YOUR SWORD IS TOO BIG!

From the guys’ hut comes Gourrigan’s response.

Gourrigan: THAT’S PENIS ENVY IF EVER I’VE HEARD IT!

Amelia mumbles in her sleep: