The wrap party wrapped; season one of Laurel succeeded with fans and critics, alike. Played by Penny Parker, Laurel is a government agent who uses her wits, instead of a gun. She graduated Summa Cum Laude with degrees in Physics and Chemistry, supporting herself financially as a fashion model. As a result, Laurel’s hobbies include running Physics4Phun (a club she founded at her old high school) and collecting couture knock-offs. Macgyver refused to accept any public acknowledgement of his role as the show’s chief inspiration and technical advisor. He preferred to watch Penny bask in the spotlight as the poster girl for what Jack Dalton christened “Nerd-chic.”
Penny hosted the wrap party at Parker House, which also served as Laurel’s residence in order to cut production costs. She and Macgyver were watching the last cars recede in the distance when they heard the shot and the cry.
“That sounded like a Barn Owl,” said Macgyver. Years of volunteering with the Phoenix Foundation’s Domestic Wildlife Survey gave him a practiced ear.
“That’s funny,” replied Penny, “because there isn’t a barn anywhere around here.”
Penny rummaged through the first-aid kit that Macgyver kept in his jeep, finding the bandages she hoped they wouldn’t need. Unfortunately, the Barn Owl they found had been shot in its left wing, and the bullet did not pass through.
“When will people ever learn?,” Macgyver muttered angrily. “I’ve got to get that bullet out and hope that the owl doesn’t go into shock Hand me the alcohol first, will you, Penny.” Macgyver bathed his trusty pocket knife in the antiseptic before using it as gingerly as he could to remove the projectile.
“Oh, the poor thing! It’s already lost so much blood,” worried Penny. “I hope it’ll be alright.”
Macgyver nodded in agreement: “I hope so, too, Penny. The thing is we’re in luck. I’ve got a friend who runs an animal hospice about thirty miles from here. I should be able to make it in time.”
Penny cooed over their new friend, as Macgyver placed his coat around the bird for warmth. Careful not to jar the make-shift splint on the injured wing, he lifted the owl into the jeep. “Don’t worry about me,” assured Penny. “I’ll walk back to Parker House. You just get to that hospice.” Macgyver gave Penny a look that she knew all too well. “I can manage, Macgyver, really I can. It’s not that far. Thanks for being concerned, though.” She kissed her surrogate big brother on the cheek, and they parted.
Penny Parker could not manage, however, for once Macgyver was out of view, she felt strangely light-headed, and everything went black. She came to lying upon unfamiliar ground. Penny took the hand extended to her, or was it a wing? Yes, she realized it was a wing that ended in a hand. It was, in fact, the right wing; the left one was in a splint. “Oh, my gosh,” exclaimed Penny. “You’re the owl! Will you be okay? Please be okay. I’m so sorry. I bet it hurts. I sprained my arm once when I was four. I was playing pretend, and I fell, and the pudding went everywhere, and Mama yelled at me for being so clumsy, and anyways, it just hurt something awful.”
“Yes,“ the being before her confirmed, when Penny paused for breath, “I am the owl, and I am a ‘he,’ if you please, not an ‘it,’ as you termed me. Indeed, I am Jareth, the Goblin King.”
“Forgive me, Majesty.” Penny curtseyed, meeting the Goblin King’s otherworldly gaze. “I meant no disrespect. It’s just that with the bullet, and your pain, and everything, I didn’t have time to worry about whether you were a boy owl or a girl owl.”
“I accept your apology and your kindness, Penny Parker. I am no longer upset by this incident,” the Goblin King proclaimed, “for I hold the man who fired upon me within my castle, and there he will remain for all time.”
“But, you shouldn’t do that,” countered Penny. “How can he make up for what he’s done, if you don’t give him a chance?”
“You believe he can be redeemed, then?,” queried the Goblin King. “Very well. I owe you a debt of gratitude, and thus, I shall repay it -- I give you thirteen hours to solve my labyrinth, find your way into my castle in the heart of the Goblin City, and rescue the miscreant for whatever atonement he can muster. If you fail, Jacques will remain my prisoner, forever. One proviso -- You may not rely upon Macgyver in your task. As his beloved ‘Laws of Physics’ do not apply here, he would be helplessly out of his element.”
Penny saw King Jareth’s last point and accepted his terms. Suddenly, the Goblin King’s shimmering, feathery, white half-owl form disappeared, leaving only his words in the air: “Remember, you have thirteen hours to solve the labyrinth, or Jacques will remain my prisoner, forever.”
Penny found herself in a courtyard. Little winged fairies flitted around a fountain in the center, while a white-haired, old dwarf sprayed them with what looked like pesticide. Penny was horrified: “Don’t do that, Mr. Dwarf! If you don’t want these fairies here, create a preserve for them someplace else. You’ll have to anyway, sooner or later, if you drive them to near extinction like that. Besides, you could ruin the environment with that spray.”
“My name ain’t Mr. Dwarf,“ replied the little man. “It’s Hoggle, and how do you know I’m not going to move them someplace else? You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” answered Penny. “I know I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. It’s just that I want everything to come out alright for everyone.”
“I’ve seen your kind come through here before,” assured Hoggle, “and I’ll see your kind come through here, again -- ‘Happy-Enders.’ Even if you reach the castle, you won’t understand what you’ve won.” The dwarf threw his hands in the air, sighing loudly. “But, I suppose you’ve got to get on with it. Just go through those doors.”
With effort, Penny opened the gigantic double doors that suddenly appeared in front of her. She found endless lichen-covered walls on the other side that went in all directions, but as far as Penny could tell, there were no doors leading to the inner portions of the labyrinth. “Well, it seems like I always find trouble when I’m not looking for it,” she said aloud, “so maybe, I need to find someone who isn’t looking for a way in in order to find one.”
Penny began looking around for that someone when a tiny voice reached her, “’Allo.”
“Hello,” responded Penny, delighted in the owner of the voice -- a little blue-haired worm wearing a bright orange scarf. “My name is Penny Parker. What’s yours?”
“I don’t have a name,” he answered. “I’m just a worm. Care to join me and the Missus for a cuppa?”
“I think that tea with you and your wife would be absolutely wonderful,” said Penny, clapping her hands together. “I loved tea parties when I was small, and you probably have the most adorable little worm-themed tea set ever. But, I have to rescue Jacques. He’s in a lot of trouble inside King Jareth’s castle.” Realization dawned on Penny: “Say, you’re so tiny that you probably work really hard to avoid that big castle, which means that you probably know where it is.”
“Cor!,” exclaimed the worm. “You want to go to the castle? Well, I never! Just go through that bit of wall there, directly across from me, an’ turn left.”
Penny stepped through the wall, turned left, and fell. Hands stopped her fall and held her in place. Indeed, gnarled, green appendages surrounded Penny on all sides. The hands that did not keep her suspended came together to form faces -- faces which addressed her: “We are the Helping Hands. Which way do you wish to go?”
Penny gambled that she would end up in the right place and replied, “I wish to go the way that Jacques went, please.”
The mouths that the hands formed chanted darkly: “She chose down! She chose down!” Penny screamed when the hands released her, hearing their laughter, as she plummeted. When Penny finally landed, she found herself within a pit of snakes -- hissing, writhing snakes.
The Goblin King clapped, but he did not offer to help Penny from the pit. “I must thank you, again, Penny Parker,” said the half-smiling monarch. “I despaired at the thought of no one using that shortcut. I designed it centuries ago to see what would happen, and nothing ever did -- until now. The question is,” continued King Jareth, “can you rescue Jacques LaRue and yourself from my snake pit?”
“Jacques LaRue? But, that’s impossible!,” insisted Penny. “Jacques is kind and gentle. He’d never have shot you.”
“Ah, but he did,” asserted the Goblin King. “He was very, very determined.” With those words, King Jareth walked gracefully to the opposite end of the pit, seized the shivering man located there by the hair, and tore away the latex LaRue.
The snakes blurred. All Penny could see was….
“Murdoc,” Penny called groggily.
“Are you awake, my darling?,” inquired the assassin gently. “I’d begun to worry that I’d given you too much sedative. What, no queries as to how I survived my last encounter with Macgyver?”
“I’m saving my energy,” replied Penny from the cot on which she lay. “Are we going to wait for him here, or are you going to move me?”
“Oh, for once, this isn’t about Macgyver,” assured Murdoc. “That’s why I had to get him out of the way. He’s so predictable. I knew that he’d head for that animal hospice. It was simply a matter of providing him with a patient.” Murdoc touched the hem of Penny’s dress, as he spoke -- the same white, sequined dress he had given her as Jacques LaRue. “You kept it?,” he wondered aloud.
“Yes,” Penny answered. “I always wear it to the wrap party for whatever project I’m doing in honor of the faith you showed in me, because your faith was real, even if you weren’t.”
Visibly moved, Murdoc replied: “I can’t be real. That’s why you’re here, my darling. I want to repay the man who is real -- repay him with you and you with him. You see, I didn’t escape after I fell from Widowmaker. I was salvaged by the Marquis du Coeur. The love and kindness you brought out in me comes naturally to him.
I faked amnesia when he found me out there. Over the next months, he visited me in the private hospital room that he paid for and encouraged me to create something, as part of my recovery. I created Cleo Rocks. I was inspired, in part, by a picture that du Coeur painted himself -- a kitten-sized sphinx playing with a ball of yarn.
I couldn’t stay, of course. I had plans. But, I never forgot Etienne du Coeur. I based Jacques LaRue, upon him. You won my heart, Penny, but du Coeur won yours, and your heart will repay my debt to him. Ah, he’s coming around, now. I love matchmaking. I think I’ll use it as a cover in future.”
“Merde! Were am I?,” asked du Coeur from another cot several feet away.
“I’ll let you fill in the details, Penny,” said Murdoc. “du Coeur loves long stories.”
Disclaimer: Labyrinth, Macgyver, and all characters therein are the property of the respective copyright holders. No infringement of those copyrights is intended.