Ling Ye likes her vehicles the way she likes her men: fast and easy to handle. Her brand new, gleaming, stolen Yamaha Fazer is both. Her father's goons are neither. Unfortunately, they know the San Diego streets better than she does. At the end of every back alley, at the edge of every hair pin turn, waits another black sedan full of gun-toting Tongs. Then, she rockets up a hill to find her escape blocked not by a wall of men in mirror shades, but by a rose-covered parade float...

To celebrate the dead tree reprint of Action Scenes, I thought I'd host a parade. Get a band, some balloons, several metric tons of ticker tape... throw a real bash! Then, it occurred to me that the only thing better than hosting a parade would be to crash someone else's. Beat some mascots, burn a float, shake down some Shriners... that would be a party!

So, here we are. Street parades make smooth segues between chase and fight sequences. They provide a wide array of props, set pieces, and stunt opportunities. They're commonly found just about anywhere you'd set a game, from big cities to small towns, the modern day to the middle ages. Marching bands, beauty queens, and costumed mascots are ubiquitous. Cast a multicultural net to add even more variety: Chinese dragons and fireworks, Day of the Dead skulls and skeletons, French circus performers, gay pride floats, you name it.

Let's start with the chase angle. Your players are careening down Main Street, a pick-up truck full of ninja nipping at their heels. They slide around a corner and find their escape blocked by a high school marching band! Coming to a full and complete stop before exiting the vehicle would be a down-right shame, but what kinds of wheeled mayhem are available?

First, and this should always be Plan A in any chase situation, look for something to use as a jump. Parade floats come in all shapes and sizes, surely "ramp-like" will be among them. Failing that, look for a VW Bug on the side of the road, or knock over a barricade and use that. Once you're airborne, you can crash through parade banners, crush floral arrangements, sail over onlookers' heads, and scatter wide-eyed children in your wake!

After the glorious crash, turn the wreckage into a fight location. The burning shell of a float makes an excellent kung-fu backdrop. Stampeding mobs of parade participants add spice to chases and fights alike. If said stampede includes members of the marching band, they can leave the field of battle littered with interesting improv weapons.

The trombone, for instance, is a versatile fighting implement. Push the slide out for a rabbit punch, then trap an arm or weapon in its crook. Like most brass instruments, it can be used to trip or parry. That is, except for the tuba; smashing is pretty much your only option with that behemoth. Stringed instruments are of less solid construction, but they smash quite spectacularly when enough force is applied. You could fence with oboes, use cymbals as shields, beat some drums... you get the idea.

When you're done on the ground, continue the fight atop a float, fire truck, or gigantic balloon. Parade floats give you an excuse for just about any action set piece you can imagine: shoot up walls of roses, dodge around gigantic Easter eggs, climb a miniature Eiffel tower, fence with plastic reindeer horns and colorfully wrapped presents, anything's fair game.

The Genre Mash

Speaking of anything, parades of the past and future let you crank the weird up even higher! Hover technology finally makes parade floats float, which means you can stage multi-level fights and chases through cascading levels of technicolor pageantry. Those ever-present mascots become holograms, robots, or genetically engineered spokespersons whose very existence is a crime against Nature.

Most fantasy parades will come in the military or circus varieties. The big benny, it should be obvious, is in the mook department. Actual soldiers raise the stakes from your usual parade fare, creating the chance that a simple brawl could escalate into a full-on riot! Circus folk sell themselves: jugglers with pins and knives, angry clowns on unicycles, spell-casting gypsies, elephants, lions, tigers, and... we'll just skip the punch line.

Hostile Tactics

Even modern parades play host to gimmicky mooks a' plenty, from bad Santas to killer mimes. The best part is that they come with a built-in reason to fight your PCs: the "heros" just cashed their parade! Send a swarm of Shriners to trap them in a dizzying web of tiny cars and precision driving. Have firemen fire up that fire hose and do some crowd control. Let your players duke it out with Kris Kringle, the Easter Bunny, and this year's Miss Tai Kwon Do.

You know the guys who hold the cables for those enormous balloons? I'll bet they've got a few tricks up their collective sleeve. They could drop some ballast and go bounding around the battlefield, delivering flying kicks to earthbound and elevated opponents alike. Thwarting them presents an opportunity to fight atop the helium-filled head of your favorite cartoon character, or stage a bungie cord fight a la Michelle Yeoh's "Silver Hawk."

Finally, there are many ways to turn an innocent parade into a hostile force. An invading army could disguise its fifth column as circus performers, for instance. Any tank or suit of powered armor could be transformed into a parade float, given enough paper mache. Plenty of super-villains and psychopaths have used parades to pass out poisoned candy, spray the city with mind-control gas, or just make a quick escape from the looney bin. It's a creative fight location. Get creative!

Lights, Camera...

The Dead Man's Hand twists the throttle open and wheelies over a barricade, launching her motorcycle skyward. She crashes through the back of the float in a cloud of wood and roses. The impact pitches her backwards while the Yamaha continues on without her. It plows into the front of the float and catches fire. Ling lands flat on her back and finds herself staring up at three very angry, very massive women. A banner flutters through the smoke behind them: "Miss Iron Body 2006."

Ling feels her skeletal right hand clench into a fist and lets her great grandfather's spirit take control of the rest of her limbs, too. She flips back to her feet just in time to avoid the first kick and launches a flurry of jabs at her opponents' throats and joints. Make that a futile flurry of jabs. "Just use the sword, already," Ling pleads, but her grandfather reserves that honor for those who truly deserve it.

One of the muscle queens lands a blow to Ling's solar plexus and pain shoots through her body. Changing tactics, her hand grabs a brawny forearm and pulls the first runner-up off balance, then sends her spinning into the second runner-up. Ling uses the opening to run the hell away.

She climbs some steps to the Greek pavilion that dominates the front of the float, now wreathed in flames. Miss Iron Body is hot on her heels. Ling ducks a right hook that obliterates one of the plaster columns that ring the platform. The Hand steps into the follow-up left hook, pushes Ling under her opponent's center of gravity, and throws Miss Iron Body through the far column. As she regains her feet, and angrily brushes plaster dust off her dress, a samurai sword appears in Ling's dead hand. An expert stroke slices through the third column at a steep angle and, with a creak and a crack, the roof comes crashing down on Miss Iron Body.

Ling kicks the last pillar over and runs along its length as it falls over the wall of flame. She hits the pavement on the far side amidst a high school marching band. Its members stare her down with an eclectic mix of shock and righteous indignation. The samurai sword vanishes from her hand. "Damn you, old man," Ling whispers under her breath.

"Get her!" someone yells from the front row. Ling beats them to the punch, pushing her way through the back four rows with a series of back fists, open-hand uppercuts, and knife-hand strikes. The brass section closes ranks, so Ling grabs a trombonist to use as a human shield. She blocks a punch with the instrument's bell, then counter-attacks by popping the slide into her assailant's nose. She spins her captive loose, but keeps his instrument and segues into a 360 degree leg sweep that drops two trumpeters and a saxophonist.

She comes up into a rapidly descending tuba. "Oh shi..." she exclaims with wide eyes, but her grandfather has it well in hand. He ducks back down and braces the trombone against the street. It meets the tuba with a screech of stressed metal, but manages to turn the monstrosity to the side before it folds like a paper clip in a trash compactor. Ling knees the tuba player in the groin before he grandfather knows what's happening.

By this time, the rest of the parade has overtaken the stalled and burning float. An enormous Pikachu looms into view above them, buoyed by the fire. Ling runs up the front of a bass drum and launches herself up to one of the balloon's dangling cables. She waves goodbye to the marching band with her non-possessed hand.

Sadly, these skies are less than friendly. A few of the balloon handlers, the ones who weren't smart enough to let go, decide she must be to blame for their predicament. One fires off a few insults, then starts snapping her with the end of his cable. It hurts, but Ling's dead hand snatches it out of the air after the third strike and pulls the bastard in for a boot to the sternum.

They fly away from each other and a second handler manages to grab Ling by her jacket. She elbow smashes him in the face and swings back towards the middle... on a collision course with the first guy! She kicks him again, turning her forward momentum into a wide arc around Pikachu's yellow belly. She punches the grabby guy on the far side of her swing; he loses his grip and falls into the waiting arms of a paper mache Batman.

Her cable ends up twisted around that of a third man, and much shorter as a result. The new guy climbs up after her, in an admirable display of upper body strength, but a boot to the face sends him back where he started. Now far away from the burning float, Pikachu is slowly but surely returning to Earth. Ling's great grandfather summons his katana and slashes the balloon, trying to replace buoyancy with thrust. Instead, Ling's lungs gets a blast of helium and the balloon sinks even faster. "Great idea," she squeaks.

Ling lets go as soon as they dip close enough to an empty stretch of street. On the way down, she catches a glimpse of Tong thugs pushing their way through the crowd one block back. She turns to bolt down a side street, but a miniature Ferrari buzzes past her toes, then another and another. Six men in fez hats encircle her in a complex formation that leaves her little room to maneuver. Ling spots cops approaching from the opposite direction as the Tongs, and the Shriners' intent becomes all too clear.

She steps in front of one, not giving him time to turn away, and hops off his hood. He zips beneath her and she lands lightly atop the hood of the next car. Her dead hand connects with the driver's jaw, then grabs his collar and tosses him into one of his passing brothers. That's two down. Ling jerks the steering wheel to avoid crashing into a third, then uses the angular momentum to swing into the driver's seat. Her foot clocks the third guy on its way around and he tumbles out onto the asphalt.

The remaining trio move to intercept as Ling races towards a side street. Her great grandfather's sword reappears as the first draws alongside and it slashes through his motor in a sledgehammer stroke! The next guy swerves around and taps Ling's rear bumper. She fishtails out of control, but it only brings her attacker within arm's reach. The katana lacerates one of his tires and he careens into the crowd. The last man roars in as if to broadside her, but slams on his breaks when he sees the samurai sword leveled at his head. When he opens his eyes, its chiseled tip almost brushes his nose. Ling flashes him a sunshine smile before she speeds away.

The cops and Tongs catch up just in time for the marching band and the muscle queens to mob them. Her dead hand waves goodbye as her pursuers are engulfed by the chaos in her wake.

Take a look at Dan's book of Action Scenes, now at Technomancer Press. -ed