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Okay, the season's over, so I feel at liberty to dish. Pinging Bacon to make sure I do it full justice!

To begin with, you gotta know that I perform at the Texas Renaissance Festival; this year and 2003, I was the noble Native American that the Spanish conquistadors brought back from the New World. We had three conquistadors - Admiral Hernan Cortez, Capitan La Bamba, and Lieutenant Pedro Armendariz.

This season, we had a stage show. The show went like this, and I swear to God I am not making it up.

The three guys lurch into the tavern that held our stage, singing something in Spanish, followed by the guitarist and the drummer. They fumble up onto the stage, where they realize that people are watching them, so they'd better do a show.

Cortez demands that Pedro get him a beer. Pedro says no can do, since we have no money. Cortez starts to cry; after some dithering, Pedro suggests that they do some exotic dancing to raise funds. Capitan Bamba opines that perhaps some of the senoritas would contribute to the cause if some of their armor were to come off.

Cortez deems this a fit idea and demands a traditional Spanish song. The musicians oblige with some flamenco, but that is deemed untraditional, so they opt for "Play That Funky Music, White Boy," which the guys sing while taking half their clothes off.

I come in, all beaued up about them being half-naked and surrounded by half-naked women, and Cortez decides he's had enough of being henpecked, and he (gasp!) cuts me off.

Not one to take it lying down, so to speak, I toss a curse his way (a pretty cool fireball, if I do say so myself), which Pedro takes for the team. Pedro hits the stage, and comes up . . . FLAMING.

Apparently it's transmissible, so when he touches Bamba, Bamba gets it; Bamba then passes it to Cortez. Once it's out of Pedro and Bamba, they decide the only option is a Spanish exorcism, which entails crossing yourself and beating the shiznit out of the possessed party. (That part's funny.)

Well, that works, so they're all no longer gay, and Cortez vows revenge on me. I laugh and toss another curse, which gets them all, only Cortez doesn't realize it until he's overtaken by gayness and starts singing "I Feel Pretty."

Halfway through the song, Cortez nellies out and can't take it any more; he begs me to lift the curse and restore their manhood ("help a sister out, woocha? woocha?"), which I grudgingly agree to do.

I surround the men in the Mantle of Manliness (a big hot-pink sheet held by three audience members) and perform a wild, primitive, tribal dance that came to be known over the season as the White Girl - it's a mix of the worst of Saturday Night Fever, Flashdance, Grease, and Elaine Benes's interesting style - up on whatever table is free.

When the transformation is complete, I remove the sheet, to reveal three Conquistadors now dressed like the Village People. They then perform an a capella version of "Macho Man," and that's how it ends.

My hand to God, I made absolutely none of that up.

(When my husband and Bacon saw it, the adjective they chose was "disturbing.")