Disclaimer: See Part 1.

*****

INT - MILLENNIUM FALCON - LATER

Carrot lays on the infirmary cot; his boots have been removed and half of one pant leg has been cut away so the wound could be tended to. This duty has been relegated to Igor, since Chewie is still flying the ship. Carrot immediate future looks grim. The hunchbacked Uberwaldian dabs at the stab wound with his mismatched fingers and examines the small sample of the substance that comes away with them. He sniffs at it and makes more of a face than usual.

IGOR
Look at thith. Powerful thtuff... I'm thurprithed it hathn't killed him already. Thturdy lad, he ith. But thith ithn't my department, poithonth. Now, my couthin Igor from DontGoNearThe Cathle, HE'd know how to neutralithe it...

Angua, who had been watching Igor's examination with great concern, notices from the tail of her eye Rincewind trying to fade unobtrusively out the door. She moves with supernatural speed [natch], grabs the Jedi, and pins him against the wall before he's done yelping in fright.

PRINCESS ANGUA
Rincewind?

RINCEWIND
Ngh?

PRINCESS ANGUA
I know what you're capable of. You're the Great Wizzard. You're a Jedi. But SO HELP ME, IF YOU DON'T AT LEAST TRY TO HELP SAVE CARROT SO HELP ME YOU ARE DOG FOOD!

Rincewind stares at her, frozen in wide-eyed terror.

PRINCESS ANGUA
Pretty please?

She releases his robes, straightens out his collar, and pats him reassuringly on the shoulder.

PRINCESS ANGUA
I know you can do this. At least try?

He nods stiffly, sidles out from between her and the wall, and heads back into the infirmary, appallingly aware of Angua behind him. He really doesn't think he can do this, and it shows in his whole demeanour. On the other hand, one could hardly resist Angua's charming methods of request.

RINCEWIND
Er. Igor, was it?

IGOR
Thir?

RINCEWIND
Um... Let me try something.
[He glances over at Angua, who nods]
You might want to get a bowl. This could get messy. Um. Right there, under his leg.

Igor gets a bowl of the sort that a war surgeon might use to put shrapnel in that has just been dug out of a patient and puts the lip of it under the stab wound. Rincewind looks at the wound and grimaces in revulsion. Then he takes a deep breath, girds his metaphorical loins, and claps both hands onto Carrot's leg, trying at the same time not to look at what he now has his hands in.

We can see the poison already in Carrot's leg, as it has coloured the veins an inky black.

Rincewind swallows a wave of nausea [he never did have a very strong constitution] and concentrates, murmuring what sounds at first to be a meditative mantra:

RINCEWIND
[sotto] Don'tLetHerKillMeDon'tLetHerKillMeOhGodsOhGodsOhGodsOhGods...

Rincewind's fingers begin to glow, and the blackness in Carrot's veins begins to back out of his bloodstream. It starts to ooze out of the stab wound, around Rincewind's fingers. It doesn't feel very nice at all, and briefly he puts the back of one gory hand against his mouth to prevent himself getting sick.

RINCEWIND
*Ulf*...

The poison slowly drips into the bowl. Igor and Angua exchange a glance; the little bugger is actually doing it!

IGOR
Whatever you're doing, thir, keep on with it. The thtuff'th almotht all out.

RINCEWIND
[queasy] Thanks for the update.

A few seconds later:

IGOR
Okay, that'th got it.

Rincewind gratefully pulls his hands away from the wound, from which only blood issues. The Jedi looks at his hands, torn between impressed and nauseated. Finally he settles on nauseated.

RINCEWIND
Disinfectant! Towel! Washcloth! Rag! Anything!

Igor thrusts a reasonably clean rag into Rincewind's hands, and Rincewind eagerly scrubs the ick off.

RINCEWIND
They didn't cover this in Jedi school. Urgh...

He holds the rag between thumb and forefinger, then drops it in the bowl as well, still feeling as though he has spiders crawling all over his hands.

Meanwhile, Igor is inspecting Carrot's leg for any further signs of contamination.

IGOR
It'th clean, Your Majethty. He'll feel like an exthtra in an Imperial attack thene for a bit, but he'll be fine.

Angua smiles in relief and not a little triumph.

PRINCESS ANGUA
Rincewind...
[He turns, still trying to resolve the creepy feeling in his hands.]
You truly are the Great Wizzard they spoke of...

RINCEWIND
[sheepish] Well... I wouldn't really call myself *great*, per se... more like extraordinarily--

She kisses him on the cheek.

RINCEWIND
... lucky...

PRINCESS ANGUA
Thank you.

RINCEWIND
Erfln...

Carrot coughs, and Angua is immediately by his side, leaving Rincewind forgotten in a cloud of shock.

PRINCESS ANGUA
Threepio!

Enter Threepio.

PONDER THREEPIO
Yes, your Maj-- Ah, Master Carrot. You're looking especially well. All things considered.

PRINCESS ANGUA
Rincewind used his Jedi powers to heal him.

PONDER THREEPIO
He must have strained himself. He looks a bit stunned.

PRINCESS ANGUA
He'll be fine.

CARROT
[weakly] I feel like I've been run over by a herd of yok. [note: yok are like yak, but heavier] [to Threepio] I guess you found me okay.

PONDER THREEPIO
Yessir... Mister Ridcully was captured, however. We're on our way to rescue him.

CARROT
Where?

PONDER THREEPIO
Genua, sir. Now that you're better, we can make all haste there right now

CARROT
All right. And, Threepio?

PONDER THREEPIO
Sir?

CARROT
When I was fighting Darth Vetinari in FourEcks, he called Angua and her parents lycanthropes.

Threepio and Angua exchange a glance. Angua nods: Go on, he deserves to know.

PONDER THREEPIO
That's true. They're all lycanthropes, the oldest royal bloodline in Uberwald except for the Magpyrs.

CARROT
Oh. Okay.

Threepio and Angua relax. After a long pause:

CARROT
What's a lycanthrope?

FADE TO BLACK.

*****

To be concluded in Episode Six...