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"Gooooood, I'm sooooo depressed..." Ceefax stared blankly at Mini-Ceefax's monitor. Then flicked it. "Oy, you awake?"
"Yes, I'm just waiting to see if you say anything worth responding to."
"I'm so boooooored..."
"Look, internet. With lots of pornography."
"I'm too depressed for pornography."
Mini-Ceefax spun it's monitor (with a rather distressing squeaking sound). "Does not compute! Does not compute!"
Very funny. Like I ever make you compute, anyway. Ooo, here's a good one, compute Pi to the final digit."
A tiny hourglass appeared momentarily. "No. That's silly."
"Fine. Then I'm going to play Minesweeper. Hah!"
Seventeen games later...
*Beep* "Search completed."
"Huh?" Ceefax tried to remember how to make her brain function past the number seven. "What search?"
"How many searches have you got going, genius?"
Ceefax's eyes lit up. "You found a copy of Richard Brautigan's 'The Abortion: An Historical Romance'?"
"The other search." A browser window opened, showing an empty starfield. Empty, that is, except for one window. With some nice checked curtains.
"Oh. Oooo! Excellent! Where the hell did I put the spare flux capacitor?"
***
Later...
Ceefax bounded back into the room, a dusty black box in her arms. "It was under the bed, behind the SFX back issues."
Mini-Ceefax hastily minimised Solitaire. "Like I care where you keep your crap."
She grabbed a USB cable, and dived under the desk. "Now all I've got to figure out is where I want to go... I know it sounds stupid, but I'm leaning towards the Aniverse, I really am."
She emerged, dusted herself down, and began to delve into the 'add new hardware' dialogue.
"Ew, you fancy green rabbits, you sick fuck."
"He's a _hare_, you ignorant pig-monkey. I don't suppose you remember where I left the flux capacitor driver disk?"
"If it's not in the box or the drawer with all the others, then the pan-dimensional beings who saved your arse last time probably took it with them."
"Yeah... Bastards... No, it's OK, I found it. Slightly sellotaped to the printer instructions, but it looks OK." She opened the CD drive. "Ah, so that's where my Clangers music CD went... Right." She spread her arms wide in an ancient-powerful-sorcerer pose. "I command thee to install!"
"OK, OK..."
She spun the CD on her finger. "Hmmmm... Clangers..."
"Oh, don't be stupid," Mini-Ceefax snapped. "There isn't any air on the Clangers' planet, you'll explode the second you land, oh for fuck's sake, why did I say that, why couldn't I just've let her go..." The monitor turned and thumped itself rhythmically against the largest speaker. "stupid, stupid, stupid..."
The speaker tumbled off the back of the desk. Ceefax grabbed at it before it's nest of wires could drag anything else down with it. "Will you _please_ not do that? I'm sure I'll die soon, and then we'll both be happy. OK?"
"Promises, promises. Your fucking drivers are installed, so you might want to make a decision at some point."
"If I had some kind of DNA transmogrifier, then I could become a Clanger. It'd need to be tied in to the portal, so you got transformed as you went through. Like the atavachron..."
Mini-Ceefax went back to it's Solitaire.
"Yes, yes, all right. I'll save the Clangers thing for when I'm bored enough to build a DNA transmogrifier. But, for now, I think I will go to..."
"You do realise that the, er, the forces controlling each dimension have other agents?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. They will, of course, have to catch me first."
"Because _that's_ really really difficult."
"Shut up. Now then, let's see, where do I want to go..."
"Oh god, _please_ nothing to do with Harry Potter..."
"No, definitely not." Pause. "No." Pause. "...no. I wouldn't voluntarily go near a school again, not even for magic. In any case, I'm so _very_ muggle. I muggle like no muggle has ever mugglingly muggled before. I could always try pinching the Liberator before any of the rebels get their greasy little mitts on it... But that would mean getting though Zen's defenses all on my own, and I'm not sure I'm up to that..."
"Not to mention the tiny problem of a paradox when you show up on the ship you've already nicked..."
"Fie to your precious paradoxes. Fie I say, and fie again!"
"No more drugs for you."
"You mean, no more Shakespeare."
"I mean, no more Crappy Potter fanfic in which the author couldn't be bothered to think of her own plot, so lifted one entirely from Shakespeare, thereby allowing tragic little fanthings to play at being well-read."
"It's a good thing I didn't bother listening to that, I've come up with a foolproof destination."
"Uh huh."
"Um hum. Now start a locater, bee-atch."
***
*Crch* "Come _in_ you worthless heap of shite..." *Crch*
*Crch* "For the love of _buttsex_, do you have any _idea_ how difficult it is to press buttons like this? Bring me back, bring me back _now_." *Crch*
*Crch* "Hell-_lo_?" *Crch*
*Zchup* "Bored already?" *Zchup*
*Crch* "Bring. Me. Back." *Crch*
*Zchup* "Portal opening. Gateway will be ready in two hours and forty-seven minutes." *Zchup*
*Crch* "God_dammit_." *Crch*
***
"My _god_, that was creepy. I mean, _really_ creepy."
"Life as an International Rescue operative not quite up to your expectations?"
"Where did the strings go?" Ceefax was the very model of not listening. "I mean, they went up and up, but where did they _go_? And yer bloody hands were next to useless. Fucking apple pie... I had a piece of apple stuck in my teeth for two _days_, I didn't have any fingernails, even if I could've persuaded my fingers to move. And the triple-damned _doors_... I wonder how long it'd take to build that DNA transmogrifier?"
"Maybe you should just read a nice book."
"This isn't about entertainment, you fucked-up heap of circuits, this is about escaping. Getting far away to a new and better life. Preferably with pointy-eared aliens on tap."
"No, it's about you being bored and wanting to play with your favourite characters. And being too proud to just write a Mary-Sue like everyone else. Remember the Hoobs this morning? If you're bored, you just have to disappear into your imagination, and stop pissing off everyone around you."
"Fuck the Hoobs!" She paused and thought for a second. "No, it wouldn't work. they're all so damn cheerful. Although..." She grabbed a slab of post-it notes, scribbled 'look up Hoob slash' on the toppermost one, and slapped it to Mini-Ceefax's monitor.
"Ew," said Mini-Ceefax. "Fuzzy."
"Don't judge me. If I thought I had a chance in hell of nicking a TARDIS, I'd go for Dr Who, but somehow I really can't see me getting away with that..."
"So, Hogwarts it is, then."
"No. Bad computer." She drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk. Mini-Ceefax lost games of Solitaire at eye-aching speeds. "It can't be B7 cos of paradoxes and the fact that they all want to kill me for some reason..."
"Can't relate to that in the slightest..."
"Shut up. Thunderbirds is out, as are all the other puppet-based shows..."
"So, I suppose this puts paid to your Clangers idea."
"Shut up. Don't you dare ruin my back-up plan. Besides, I might take a brief sojourn into Fireball XL5 world at some point. Just long enough to nick Fireball Junior, have a bit of a joyride, whack Venus upside the head... But not just yet, cos I'm still freaked out."
"Just go for Star Trek already."
"Hmmm... It's certainly a possibility. I'm not sure if it's quite right, though. Granted, TOS world is less sanitised than the spin-offs, and it's not as if I'm going to join Starfleet..."
"You're not?"
"Fuck, no. Too much like work. Not enough Vulcans."
"You're turning down the classic Mary-Sue scenario? And the lure of Spock?"
"Jim'll kill me if I try anything. No, we'll leave Star Trek in the 'possibly, but only if I'm really stuck for ideas' pile."
"Lexx?"
"Too dangerous."
"That's a ludicrous reason. If you're going to hold out for complete safety, you might as well give up now. A situation with no peril of any sort would make crap TV."
"_Thank_ you, I realise this. However, Lexx is more perilous than most. Not to mention the only non-deceased male aboard is Stanley fricking Tweedle. Whom I love dearly, but not in that way."
"Andromeda?"
"Fuck right off."
"Battlestar Galactica?"
"See above comment."
"Titan AE?"
"Too bland."
"Carry On Camping?"
"Now you're just being silly."
"No, now I've just lost interest."
"There's always Space: 1999. Series three, so Tony's there."
"Thought you said you didn't want to do any work?"
"Good point. Oh, I just can't decide." She heaved a sigh, and slumped back into her chair. "It all seemed so easy, last time."
"To be fair, you didn't think it through at all, last time."
"Yo mamma. Oooo, Hitch-Hiker's Guide!"
"I think you need to be clinically depressed to make sense of _that_."
"Score!"
"Besides, where? And when? Bearing in mind it spans the entire length of time, and several different dimensions (I can't believe I know all this shite, it _sucks_ being your computer)."
"Ah, nuts to all of this, I can only hold myself back for so long. Start up another locater."
***
Ceefax swung the blood-soaked implement triumphantly. Behind her, the portal faded.
"I can't believe you did that," Mini-Ceefax said, tightly. "Words fail me, that honestly do. Even by your standards, that was low."
"Oh, _what_?"
"You beat a child with a baseball bat."
"I did _not_. It's a Quidditch bat. And he was an arsehole. I was striking a blow for everyone who's ever been picked on at school."
"By fictional characters."
"Shut _up_. Fourth walls need not apply, you know that. I think I might've fractured his skull. I definitely heard _something_ crack, although it may've just been his nose. Wouldn't it be cool if I've killed him? It'd shut up the Draco-Redemptionists. What the hell's wrong with you? Half your programmes aren't responding."
"I think I'm in shock."
"You reboot, I'm going to wash the evidence before it drips all over the carpet."
***
"Aaaaah. You know, I really do feel better for that."
"Now that your homicidal urges have been slaked, perhaps you could get on with finding someplace to get out of my life to."
"God, it was sweet. He was screeching like a marmoset..."
"Stop, you're frightening the computer."
"I should get T-shirts printed."
"I _told_ you you wanted to go to Hogwarts. When _will_ I learn not to talk to you?"
"'I bashed Malfoy: 2003' Then, on the back 'Ask me how loud he screamed' with a bloodstain in the shape of a smiley face."
"How about 'I beat the crap out of an unarmed fifteen year old, ooo, look at me, aren't I cool?'"
"The planet of the milk-fed boys!"
"For the front or back-print? Also, how the hell does that relate?"
"Final answer. That's where I'm going. Lexx, Planet of the Milk-Fed Boys, Giggerota's fantasy version. Oh, yes."
"An excellent choice, madam. Would you care to see the intergalactic dimensional rift caused by flagrant inconcistancies list? What the hell am I saying, get _out_ of here before you change your bloody mind, launching locator..."
***
Ceefax crossed her ankles, adjusted her sunglasses, and graciously accepted another peeled grape. In the usual 'you-thought-it-was-going-to-be-paradise,-but-oh-no!' twist, fantasy-version Giggerota had still been present, but after a climactic fight scene involving the Quidditch bat, Giggerota's collection of severed heads, wire-fighting, several bits of scenery, some of the smaller boys, and a high-yield nuclear device, Ceefax had emerged the victor. Life was good.
"Hello."
In this instance, the word 'was' being past tense.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Diamond. And my friend's name is Copper."
"Oh _hell_. Philip?"
One of the young men in loin cloths fumbled his oversized fan and looked nervous.
"Arm the warheads. I'm not going without a fight."
***
*So that one was...*
*Human, Copper.*
*Ah. Are they all like that?*
*No.*
***
"Copper? Diamond? Anyone? Um, Jet? Radium? Silver? Lead? Gold? Probably some others I can't remember? Look, I'm sorry, OK? And fair enough taking my stuff and crippling my computer and pinching my Quidditch bat... Can I just keep _one_ of the boys? Copper, you know what I'm talking about, right? ...the grapes? I hadn't finished eating them..."
the end
(Hopefully not to be continued....)
or...