Moonstruck

3 Jun 2010

Wonderland

My mother’s meeting with the Borg had actually ended surprisingly well for her. Dad’s work on her bionic arm gave her an in-built swiss knife containing various crafting equipment. When I walked into the bedroom that day she was rotating through her various attrachments.

“Mum,” I asked, holding up my stripey stockings with my fingers. “My stockings keep falling down.”

Selecting the seam ripper, mum adjusted the magnification on her bionic eye. “There’s some garter belts in the wardrobe, I think.”

“Right, thanks.” I said, walking around the bed to the wardrobe. I stepped inside. “Where are they?”

“Before you get to Narnia.” That had been a joke in our house until Aslan had started renting the back of the wardrobe. He was a good tenant, clean, and usually tried to keep the other animals off the white goods.

I delved inside, putting away rows of trousers and jumpers on hangars. Aha. A whole pile of them, in a rainbow of colours, adorned with lace or bows or shimmering beads. I sat down next to them, wondering whether to match the colour to my dress (blue) or my stockings (purple and black.)

I was so engrossed in my task that I didn’t even notice when the wardrobe began to travel in time and space.

I had selected a fiery red belt with gold piping in the end, reasoning that nobody would see it so it didn’t have to match at all. I fastened it then opened the wardrobe with one hand while adjusting my dress with the other.

I was surprised, to say the least, to find myself not in my house at all, but inside a very large tree house, equipped with furniture and a kitchen.

My shock was interrupted by The Doctor, who strolled up to the wardrobe with his hands in his pockets. “Nice ride.” He said. “The oak finish is a nice touch.”

“Thank you.” I replied. “Where am I?”

“I have no idea, to tell the truth.” He said, as if this was a great joke. he had the right sort of face for jokes, big ears and a big nose, and the widest smile I’d ever seen on a human face. “Nice tights.”

“Thanks.” I preened. “I knitted them myself. What are you doing here if you don’t know where you are?”

“I’m on a quest.”

“A quest for what?”

“The Ultimate Ringtone!” He said, with a ‘TA-DA!’ hand gesture. He repeated it when I didn’t reply. When I still didn’t react he dropped his hands and put them back in his pockets, because saying more seriously, “Want to come?”

I had nothing else to do. “Ok.”

It was an epic journey. Remind me to show you my scrapbook one day. Eventually we found what we were looking for. It was a cave, inside which we could a soft wheezing sound.

“What’s that?” I asked, then modulated my voice to a whisper when he made a shushing gesture.

“The monster.” He whispered back.

“It sounds like an accordion.”

He strolled up to the entrance of the cave and rang the doorbell. There were rumblings and shufflings from inside, and I huddled close to The Doctor out of nervousness. After a minute or so, the monster emerged.

It was quite possibly the most bizarre creature I had ever seen. Its body resembled nothing so much as a set of bagpipes, its head a trombone with large, sad eyes, and each leg was an accordion that wheezed as it moved. A huge tear ran down its face and plopped on the floor next to my foot.

“Come to laugh at me as well, have you?” It sniffed.

“Why would we do that?” I asked. “That would be horrible.”

“Everyone else does.” It wailed, each body part bursting out a long, sad note. The Doctor pulled out a huge handkerchief out of his pocket in the manner a magician pulls one out of his sleeve. It was at least three feet square. The monster took it in his large claws and dabbed at his eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The Doctor said. “Why don’t we go inside and have a cup of tea, eh?” He asked gently.

The monster lumbered inside, apologising for the mess, and we sat down at a table. The table was made for the monster so the Doctor and I had to sit on stacks of books to see over the table. The tea was slightly bitter, but drinkable so I sipped at it to be polite.

“Nice place you have here.” The Doctor said, looking about as he slurped his tea. His gaze rested on a hole in the floor that I had noticed as well. It was covered by a grate that sliced the light beaming out of it into little squared where it shone on the ceiling. “Hello…” He said, slipping off his chair and walking toward it.

He knelt down, sticking his nose in one of the holes. “Yes!” He crowed. “There it is!”

“What?” I asked.

“The Ultimate Ringtone!”

“Oh.” Said the monster. “That thing. I was going to sell it in he car boot. You can have it.”

The Doctor had already stuck his arm down the hole and was drawing it out. I waited with bated breath to see the the thing we have been searching for for years.

It was a rich tea biscuit. A glowing rich tea biscuit, but… still a biscuit.

“Perfect!” He said, and hopped back on his chair.

“But…” I said.

“That’ll go nicely with my tea.” He said, dipping it and scoffing it in one. There was a brief silence, and then he burped the Nokia ringtone, and looked incredibly satisfied with himself.

28 Jan 2010

Men In Tights

Thanks to the friendly girl who had been just the right size, who was now stuffed in a jefferies tube, the uniform helped Natalie blend in to the environment perfectly. Nobody batted an eyelid as she marched purposefully through the connecting corridor from Deep Space 5 to the Enterprise.

Thanks to the interior designers at Starfleet HQ, the sameness of the ship meant she got lost quite quickly, but after three rounds of deck six she realised that her goal was near.

Thanks to the complete failure of her physical strength, pulling the plating off the wall was more difficult than anticipated, but she eventually managed it, sending a crewman concerned for the blood vessels in her neck away when he offered to help. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she got to work, pulling the hyperspanner from her toolbox and hovering it over the complex circuitry. Just in time, too, as she heard voices coming down the corridor.

Ahead, two figures strolled toward her. One was very odd looking indeed, pale opalescent skin and golden eyes, and, she heard as they neared, a particularly pedantic way of speaking. Of course, the android, commander Data. And the other completely unremarkable except for the fact that he was wearing no trousers to his uniform, only a pair of dance tights.

This did not seem to bother either of them. However her stare did, and she quickly brought her gaze upwards. Crumbs! Picard!

“Is there a problem, leiutenant?”

“Um well um no, sir!” She managed. “It’s just… are you aware that…” His stern gaze quelled her into silence. “Um. Nevermind, sir.”

“As you were.” He said, turning back, and she breathed a sign of relief. But no! He was looking back!

“What exactly are you doing, lieutenant?”

Overcoming her nervousness, she launched into her  . “Circuit Board maintenance sir! As you can see there-“

She looked back at her panel, and realised that at some point since she last looked, her hyperspanner had turned into a rubber duck.

“-is absolutely nothing wrong here!” She finished, shoving the duck into the panel and lifting the plating back on top of it. “I’ll just be getting back to engineering, now…”

“Lieutenant.” She froze several steps away and slowly turned around.

“Sir?”

“When you get there please tell Commander LeForge that there are still too many kittens on the bridge.”

“Yes sir.” She said, turning back and beginning a power-walk up the corridor, as fast as she could go without actually running. As she went she bit her lip, pondering how to appropriate another hyperspanner without anyone noticing. Unfortunately just as she resolved to try the old ‘what’s over THERE?’ routine in Engineering and pinch someone else’s, a cry sounded from down a connecting corridor.

“The intruder!”

A Klingon and three security officers were chasing her. She ran.

She didn’t get very far, having little legs. Lifted several inches off the floor by the officers that held each upper arm captive, she decided to enjoy the ride. At least Federation jail cells had heating and regular meals.

“How did you find me?” She asked. The officer on her left, possessed of very curly red hair, snorted.

“Your tail, stupid.”

“My tail?” There was indeed a long, sinuous, forked tail attached to her rear. “Oh, I had forgotten about that.”

I think there was an orgy next, but I will spare you. I woke with a start and had to check that I didn’t have a tail. This was the first of a series of dreams of Picard in tights.

8 Jul 2009

Allo

A breeze kept fluttering the pages of my book as I tried to read them. I turned the other way, putting my back to it, but it seemed to follow me. I moved about several times before I finally looked up.

“Gah!” I jumped, pressing the book to my chest (and losing my page) in my shock.

The breeze was produced by a large moth. A VERY large moth. Its wingspan was probably roughly the same as my armspan. Instead of flitting about to keep in the air as most moths do, it flapped its wings softly, sending little gusts of air out into my face.

“Allo.” It said. It had a cheery looking face, with a big smile and intelligent eyes. Antennae hung from its forehead into its face like a fringe, and it puffed them out of the way. I did not reply, too busy staring at it, and this made it uncomfortable. “Allo.” It repeated, in a less friendly tone.

“You’re… huge. And pink.” I said. It frowned.

“So are you.”

This was quite true. “Sorry.” I said, which soothed the feathers that lined its wings. “It’s nice to meet you, but I’m afraid I’m quite busy.”

“No you’re not.” It replied, hovering over my shoulder as I turned away to get back to my book. “You’re just reading.”

“I have to finish this book today.” I explained. “I borrowed it and it needs to go back tomorrow.”

“I have something more important for you to do.” It declared. I looked over my shoulder at it.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I was sent to take you to Fairyland. You’ve got to rescue the prince.”

I looked at it dubiously. “I’m not sure I have the time.”

“But the citizens of Fairyland needs your help!” The moth cried, moving to hover directly in front of my face. I resisted the urge to bat it away, as it probably wouldn’t take kindly to that.

“I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to go to Fairyland.” I said mollifyingly, “Why don’t you go and find one of them?”

The moth was quite distressed by my refusals, and was swaying in frustrating in front of me. “But they wanted you! You’ve got to rescue the prince and marry him.”

“What?” I snorted. “I can’t marry some random fairy prince. I have to finish this book and start packing.”

“You don’t need to pack.” The moth beamed at me. “You’ll have everything you ever need in Fairyland. You just have to climb on my back and off we go!”

“I’m not packing for Fairlyand! I’m going to Spain!” I stood up, ducking under the moth, and strode toward the kitchen, hoping it would take the hint and leave. It didn’t, and followed me.

“But Fairyland needs you!” It cried plaintively, sniffling like a child whose toy has been taken away. “You can’t just ignore them!”

“Yes I can.” I said, positioning myself around the corner with the heavy wooden chopping board in my hands. The moth drifted around the corner, mouth open to whine some more, and I swatted it head on with the board.

Then, leaving the bright pink, feathery corpse on the floor, I went back to the living room and my book.