Niples - "Fourth Base Hilton"

<snip>
"Hol? Record this, for me would you?"
"What's that then?" Holly swam into view on the main monitor
"Hi Seymour" Cass started "Now, I know you're not going to like this much, but I've decided to sack Little Cheftonia off for a bit, and do a royal visit thing to go and take in those famous Flesh Pits of Fourth Base. I was, like, sooo boooored I just had to do it; but now it turns out that you and the rest of the Blue Dwarf crew are here too! So, if you fancy meeting up before I go out and get violently drunk on Bacardi Breezers and wind up shagging a pleasure GELF or something even weirder, then let's do it! I'm staying in the usual Paris suite at the Hilton, so shall we say 7:30 tonight? See you there sweetie"
Cass blew a kiss and stopped recording, playing it back a few times and spending time fine tuning the message before finally trickling it over onto Seymour's comms voicemail via multiple sources though the slave system
<end snip>
Who: Seymour
Where: Fourth Base Hilton
When: After Micky/Potential killed the Zorgrath Emperor
Seymour strolled confidently into the Fourth Base Hilton hotel like he owned the place.
"Hello sir, my name is Ulysses Freud." Said the duty manager, who met Seymour first and shook his hand. Afterwards, Seymour immediately took a silk handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hand.
"Seymour Niples." Seymour said. "You might have heard of me. I'm the Royal Ambassador to Queen Brittany."
Ulysses Freud had a slight panic. He'd never heard of the man. "Hold on sir. Let me check..." He checked the computer on the reception desk. "Of course, Mr Nipples!" He said.
"Niples, Nip-lay." Seymour corrected. "It's French."
"Extremely sorry Mr Niples." Ulysses said. "We do have a booking for you. Queen Brittany herself made it."
"Excellent." Said Seymour. "You don't have any antiseptic wipes do you?" He looked down at the hand he'd used to shake with. "Don't be offended, but I don't like to touch anyone on a space station whose sole purpose is to have sexual relations."
Ulysses Freud looked offended.
"Terribly sorry." Seymour explained. "I don't mean to say I think YOU specifically have an STD, like the Mimian AIDS or anything... but... well... you might."
Ulysses Freud scowled and handed over an antiseptic wipe. "Thank you my good man. Has the Queen arrived?"
"Yes sir. She arrived ten minutes ago whilst I was on a break. I would have loved to meet her. I love royalty."
Seymour beamed. "And so do I! It's just a shame that this one doesn't know how to act like one!"
Ulysses showed him to his room, with Seymour whining and bitching about how much a self-centred slut the Queen was.
"Your room isn't quite ready yet Mr Nipples."
"Niples!"
"Oh yes, sorry. Would you like me to show you to the Queen's suite?"
"Oh go on then." Seymour said. "I need to give her a lecture about doing stupid things which make it into the tabloids."
Ulysses nodded and unlocked a door. Seymour entered.
The Paris suite was very large, and very expensive. Piano music was being played very loudly from somewhere, and Seymour half expected it to suddenly change into hiphop or RnB like she usually listened to.
Romantic mood lighting meant that Seymour couldn't really see anything in the grand apartment, and steam from the shower (or was it jacuzzi?) also blocked his vision. He stumbled around, and noticed that there were rose petals strewn everywhere. Suddenly Seymour didn't feel very comfortable... this didn't look like the Queen's style, not the Queen that he knew.
<Tag Cass, are you going to show yourself to Seymour? I'm not too sure what your plan is and why you have lured him here so I daren't go any further!>