RE: [JMC_Blue_Dwarf] Seymour - \"Flipping the wrinkly potato\"

Who: Lester, Lester, SNIDE and Queen Brittany
Where: In a lift in the TransMed building
When: Just after Seymour disappeared into a wormhole.
 
<SNIP>
The doors were almost closed when the Armadillo belched anotherwormhole straight at them. It cut through the lift door and caughtSeymour in the chest. He disappeared as he was sucked through.
Brittany and Lester looked at each other in shock. "Where's he gone?"</SNIP>
 
"Knowing Ambassador Niples it's probably taken him to Harrods or Fortnum and Mason or something," Lester jabbed the button again for floor 13.
 
"It's not working!" Queen Brittany hopped from foot to foot in her high-heels agitatedly. The angry Armadillo could be heard beyond the doors.
 
"Get it working," Lester said in no-nonsense, aggressive tones.
 
"How dare you speak to me like that! I'm not some common bint! I'm not even a techie!"
 
"I wasn't talking to you," Lester said and swiped at the button panel with his still-welded-shut metal fist. The panel dented and he used the other hand to pry it open, "you, get it moving. Oh me? I thought you'd forgotten me. I keep trying to. That's not nice. Floor 13, now."
 
"What about Seymour?" the Queen whined.
 
"We can't find him. If he's safe, we'll meet him later. If he's dead... there's not a lot we can do. That's a horrible thing to say!"
 
"Yes, I agree, it's a horrible thing to say."
 
"The best thing we can do is find this little girl," Lester said while his hand worked into the components. SNIDE joined in, helping him sever cables and reconnect things.
 
"Why are you doing this? What's he paying you?" Brittany looked suspiciously at this schizoid man.
 
"Nothing, he's not."
 
"Then why are you doing this?"
 
Lester seemed to consider his answer, then the lift started to move, "we're on our way."
 
* * *
 
The lift numbers reached the floor 13 and the guard commander, livid at the news of the cold-blooded murder of his long-time friend and darts partner, the other guard commander, raised a gloved fist. The eight TransMed uniformed guards raised their photon rifles, squinted along the sites and as the lift pinged its arrival they opened fire.
 
Let's slow things down. Let's look at each magnetically-sealed packet of super-heated plasma as it punches indiscriminately through the metal doors of the lift, now as soft and yielding as butter. Consider the guards, their mouths visible beneath their visors: set in the grim expression of professional killers doing their job. The air in the corridor fills with the tang of ozone and sparks of static from the discharged plasma-bolts flare off the guards' uniforms. The doors to the lift dissolve, increasingly punched full of holes until they are more hole than door and finally, with all structural integrity eaten away, they slide down to the floor in a pile of shredded steel. Smoke fills the lift cage, making it hard to see inside. The light fitting, caught by a stray bolt, wavers for a moment on one last strand of cable, then falls, plunging the lift into darkness.
 
"Units two, three, get me a kill confirm," the Guard leader commanded.
 
"Sir!" Two armoured guards stomped forwards, into the lift cage. "No signs of aiieeeiiieee!"
 
The last scream of the two guards dopplered into the distance, some twelve floors down, as the lift cage plummeted, severed from whatever arcane mechanism ran it up and down the lift shaft.
 
Then with far too much showing off a ragged, dinner jacket wearing form somersaulted down from above the door and landed in the middle of the guards.
 
Lester looked up, ensuring that the what little light there was caught on his implants. Had it made a sound, the light glinting of his temple would have gone: TING.
 
"Kill confirmed," Lester said quietly. "Ooh, nasty," he added in another voice.
 
"Get him!" The Guards lifted their rifles, but their deluge on the door had drained all power packs. They fumbled with their combat pouches, trying to reload. Lester reached down to his hip, produced something lacy, elastic and with metal parts which he stretched in both hands. It twanged across the short space, curled around a rifle and yanked it out of the surprised Guard's hand, as it came back, Lester caught it and flung it back out along the same return path, neatly smacking the Guard's visor which shattered.
 
The rest that followed was over the top, elaborate and what annoyed the guards more than being killed was that they were being killed by a guy who would climb up the backs of their friends in order to solidly kick them in the face. It was showing off of the worst kind.
 
To make matters worse for them was SNIDE. It was all well and good reloading your photon-rifle, getting a good aim on this strange lanky bloke in a dinner jacket, but then to have a viscious robot spider run up your trouser leg and savage your joy department just added to the humiliation.
 
When they'd finished, Lester sagged to the ground, panting, his shoulders heaving. SNIDE collapsed against him too, puffing and panting without the need for air.
 
"I used... to be... so fit..." he gasped, "my bad... sorry.... ow... our knuckles really hurt!"
 
There was some angry scuffling from the lift shaft and Lester reached up through the open doorway to assist her Majesty in getting down. She glared daggers at him as Lester sheepisly returned her bra.
 
"I didn't realise it had gone until you used it to swing through the bloody doorway!"
 
Lester sniggered, "yeah, that was pretty cool..." he stopped suddenly as Brittany, without shame or embarrassment, peeled off her top to get her bra back on. Lester fought hard with himself not to blush.
 
"Still, that was pretty exciting," she said getting closer, "almost makes me hot."
 
"Almost?"
 
"Have you looked in the mirror? You're part geek, part toaster!"
 
"Yeah, I had spotted that," Lester sighed.
 
They surveyed the ruined corridor, "there'll be more soon," he told Brittany.
 
"Then let's not stand about!" She pressed past him.
 
"They're really nice," Lester whispered to himself, "you're not wrong there," he answered. Then he paused as they both considered the same thing: "they can't be real..."
 
"I heard that!" Brittany shouted indignantly, "you are never going to find out either!"
 
"What's that then?" Brittany whirled at the voice, which apparently came from a pepsi sponsored robot. Dai Evans waved a cola-covered arm cheerily, "found you again, didn't I?"
 
"Dai! I thought you were dead!"
 
"Ah, they've got rubbish wormholes. I've seen better inexplicable travelling routes coming home drunk from the Coal and Celery, haven't I? Now, what's all this lolly-gagging, got a baby to find, haven't we?"
 
<uber SNIP>Seymour took the opportunity to high tail it out of the room whilst the woman was picking up the wrinkly potato called Clive. He heard her shouting after him, but he kept running. He ran until he hit something very large and very metal coming around the corner. "It's Seymour isn't it!" Said Dai, still in his large mech-suit made from vending machines. Behind him were Queen Brittany and Lester.
"About bloody time Seymour!" Brittany scolded. "We found Dai five minutes ago. The wormhole only sent him a few rooms away. Where were you?"
"Only a few rooms away too." Said Seymour. "There's a very pink one over there."
"Ooh where? Giz a look!" Said Brittany.
"No time!" Said Seymour. "We need to rescue Alota. She's really close now."
 
"How do you know? Have you got some sort of sixth parenting sense? Maybe a psychic connection to your child?" Lester said.
"No. I can see her through that window." Said pointed.
Sure enough, Alota was there. The room she was on was protected by a sheet of solid glass all around, like a greenhouse. Inside they could see a small child, a toddler, floating in zero gravity with wires plugged straight into her. She was wearing a sweet little white dress with frills at the bottom and on the arms, with sparks of electricity arcing from her fingers to machines on the edge of the room. He hair stuck out in all directions, presumably because of the amount of electricity sparking around the room.
 
She seemed unconscious, or at least had her eyes closed because of the lightning.
 
"What are they doing to my baby!" Seymour cried out. "They're electrocuting her!" He banged on the glass.
"Actually.... said Dai. "It looks like the electricity is coming from... her."
 
Seymour blinked again. "Oh... goodness me. You're right." Then he thought for a moment. "But... that's okay, I just need a rubber playpen when I get her home."
 
One door lead into the room, Seymour pushed it but pulled his hand back quickly after he got an electric shock of a lifetime. "Ouch!" he cried. "How are we going to get through that door?"
</uber SNIP>
 
Lester sighed, firmly but gently pushing Seymour aside, "I guess I'll do that other thing I'm so good at."
Seymour frowned, uncomprehending, "what?"
 
"Well my second best thing that I can do: is die," Lester said quietly. "Lots of practice."
 
"Second?" Brittany frowned, "what exactly is your first?"
 
Lester thought for a moment, then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. Brittany frowned as the sentence went on for quite a time.
 
"What do you mean? What quick brown fox? What lazy dog?"
 
Lester grinned, handed Queen Brittany her bra again, "never mind, some other time," he then giggled: "that is SUCH a cool trick!"
 
Without another word, Lester reached out his good hand, took a deep breath and slammed the door as hard as he could. Arcs of lightning pierced his body, thrashing him around painfully. "They're definitely real!" He screamed then slumped to the ground, pushing the empty door off its lock. He fell through the open door way into the room Alota was being kept in.
 
Seymour inched forwards, tentatively reaching towards the still body of Lester.
 
"He's dead," he said after a cursory examination. "Ugh, he smells like barbecued Thai food."
 
"Come on," Dai urged them as he peered out into the corridor, "still need to make good use of what he's bought us, don't we? Grab the baby and let's get going!"
 
Seymour grabbed a pair of heavy-duty rubber gloves, presumably there so that the scientists could actually handle the baby and stepped over the threshold into the zero-gravity zone. As he wrapped his arms around Alota her eyes opened and the lightning died down. The toddler looked up into her father's eyes and...
 
"Where the smeg are we now?" Seymour was getting annoyed at the lack of linearity he'd been experiencing lately. He still had Alota in his arms, but now he was in a swirly pink-and-red void. "Jenny?"
 
No, it wasn't Jenny, but she was so simliar, same eyes, same foxy little smile. Seymour looked her up and down appreciatively. Jenny never told him she had a sister, substantially cuter than Jenny too, of course, he'd never tell her that...
 
"Hi Dad."
 
Seymour took some time, eyes up, eyes down. Baby, woman. Baby. Woman. Baby/woman. He tried desperately to shift through the mental gears that took him away from thinking about her neckline and her ankles and everything else and concentrated on the fact that the foxy little minx opposite was also the quietly cooing child in his arms.
 
"Alota?"
 
"Yes, I just wanted to use this moment, this little breach in the space-time and multi-verses to say thank you. You are awesome, really. I mean you're not that good an Ambassador."
 
"Oh!"
 
"You really wind people up too, Mum's got a hyperdimensional voodoo doll of you. So if you feel any chest pains, just remember you've probably got something to apologise for."
 
"Right."
 
"But you're a good, Dad. You were there when I needed you. So thank you. See you soon."
She leaned forward and kissed Seymour on the cheek. "Now go get me out of there. And stop thinking about my bottom."
 
"Seymour?!" He blinked at the screamed voice and he was back in the zero-gravity room. Brittany was hammering on the glass frantically. He kicked off the wall and floated out of the zero-gravity area, gingerly stepped over Lester's corpse and joined his Queen in the ante-room.
 
"What? What is it?"
 
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