Untitled: Part 3

And so, on with my tale of mental degradation. If you missed part one and part two this will seem very strange, but that is my thing so maybe just go with it. Oh, and to the follower I lost yesterday, was it the cheese man? He was dead already, honest. I was just playing with his body for a laugh. Don't leave me. We can work it out.



"Hi, I'm Sarah, Sarah Farad. Thank you so much for bringing me over here."
"No prob, Sarah. Hey, no need for tears, you're safe here."
"Where's your husband?"
"Mohammed's still stuck in the control room. He finally got around to rescuing him but stopped with only a metre of door left to cut away."
"Metre?"
"Three feet."
"Why did he stop?"
"He got stuck on what kind of a welder would be used to cut through a metal door. He started out with an arc welder because it was the first thing he thought of, but then he wasn't sure if that was right or not and didn't feel like googling it. Then he went to bed and he hasn't been back since."
"So you're already in one story, right?"
"Yes. He published us on his other blog back in April of last year. He posted us again on his main blog a few months back and then decided to finally get started on the second part of the story after receiving some positive feedback. Now he's thinking of re-doing the first story since it was so short. Like I really need to live through the Earth being destroyed all over again."
"Are you hungry? We've got pizza and beer."
"Starving, thank you. So this is Los Angeles?"
"Yep. Where are you from originally?"
"I'm not sure yet, he never said in the original story. From his notes though, it looks like he may have me born on the Ring."
"And the Ring is a giant... space station?"
"It was. What was that bell?"
"The elevator. Somebody else has arrived."
"Why did I come in through the fire escape?"
"No idea. There's a lotta stuff we're still figuring out. Kel's been a big help."
"He's the Stormtrooper, right?"
"Ya. He just went to the john, should be back soon."
"Been gone for awhile now. You figure they'd design those suits for-"
"Dude."
"Oh, sorry."
"That's alright. Can I ask you a question...I'm sorry, Pin Stripe just seems like such a silly way to address you."
"I know, that's another thing we can't figure out yet, how to pick our names. Everything goes blank when we try, so we're Pin Stripe and Black Suit for now."
"What was your question, Sarah?"
"Where's the narrative? All this dialogue is confusing."
"We're really stuck on that one. It's one of the reasons we're bringing all the other characters together. Kinda hoping that between all of us we'll be able to figure it out and start using it."
"We think it's our genie in the bottle, once we have that we'll be able to do so much more."
"Oh. My. God."
"He's gigantic. He's... he's not a bad guy, is he?"
"No, he's a good... Jesus, he's big. Seven feet?"
"At least."
"Hi... ah... sir?"
"Fleet Lord. Sorry, he hasn't decided on a name for me yet. What the hell happened in here?"
"Oh, we got bored the first day, started playing with the guns. Um... I'm sorry, but how tall are you? I could have sworn you were about seven feet when you came in, now you look like eight."
"He hasn't decided that yet either. My height fluctuates from outline to outline. Try not to look at me for too long, it'll give you vertigo."
"Ya, my head's starting to hurt."
"Mr. Fleet Lord?"
"That's a little stuffy, (sigh) how about just FL?"
"How did you put the sigh in there?"
"Not sure. Maybe it's because I have so many drafts."
"How many?"
"Thirteen. He's published two on the other blog. Maybe that helps."
"Did you bring anybody else with you?"
"I brought my second in command, Sgt. Jarel. He's taking another elevator up with the time travellers. The President and Secretary of State didn't want to come and none of the others are substantive enough to come over. Even if they did, they'd just be voices. Sorry, ma'am, you had a question?"
"I just wanted to know, er, your height..."
"Genetically altered."
"Fleet Lord."
"No need to salute, Stormtrooper."
"Name's Kel, sir."
The elevator chimed again, this time disgorging eleven heavily armed men and women and one humanoid species of alien.
"Hey, hey!"
"I knew this would work!"
"Humanoid species of alien?"
"Romantic, isn't it. He hasn't decided what I'm gonna' look like yet, only that I need some 'alien' features."
"You must be Sergeant Jarel."
"At your service. May I introduce Captain Sean Decker and his team, the 1st Force Temporal Recon."
"Marines?"
"Kinda. We're made up of soldiers from many different UN nations but we're flying under the banner of the US Marine Corps. Long story."
"I'll say, he put a lot of work into you guys around Christmas."
"Christmas?"
"Earth celebration, I'll explain later."
"Ok, I think this is everybody. We've got some A-10 pilots who don't actually have bodies yet, they'll be joining us on the speaker phone once we get settled down. If you all want to come this way we've got pizza and beer over by the windows there."
"Aren't there two non-science fiction characters over in the other blog?"
"There are but they're barely even referred to. They know what's going on but there's not enough of them to actually interact with. Same thing with Toys. The main character is only assumed at this point and trust me when I tell you that you do not want to meet the rest of the cast."



I find it interesting, but not at all insulting, that I get a bigger response from playing with grilled cheese and toys than I do from actually writing something. Maybe there's a message in there?