Drunkard's Stagger: Audience Participation
A DW Fragment by Sam Ashley (aka The Evil Midnight Lurker)
This, thought Douglas Q. Sangnoir, is not how it's supposed to go.
It was a simple sequence of events, repeated so many times by now he knew exactly what to expect: Open a gate to some other world, enter it, fall asleep, wake up already on said other world. He never experienced the interdimensional transit as anything but the occasional odd and vivid dream.
Not this time. This time, as far as he could tell, he was fully conscious astride his gravbike... and drifting in the midst of a dead-black void. He might have assumed that he'd jumped into a dead or failed universe, if it weren't for two things:
1) his inexplicable failure to suffocate and die in hard vacuum; and
2) the oddest sensation of movement, in a direction he couldn't quite place.
No, Doug was going somewhere, of that he was certain. But the getting there was getting... boring.
Nothing but darkness, like a sensory deprivation tank, or a blank movie screen...
Movie screen?
I'm getting punchy in here. But what the hell... Doug waved a hand at nothing and declaimed:
"And God said... Let there be LIPS!"
And--
much to his amazement and amusement--
--there were Lips.
And they were good.
The colossal disembodied mouth opened and began to sing...
Michael Rennie was ill the day the Earth stood still
But he showed us where we stand...
"On our FEET!" Doug caroled joyously. It was weird, it was bizarre, but for once on this long strange trip he was certain he knew exactly where he'd be landing next.
And he already had a good idea what he'd be doing when he got there.
This was going to be fun...
"Are you ... giving a party?" Janet asked nervously.
"No," the strangely pale man replied. "You've arrived on a rather ... special night. It's one of the master's affairs."
"Just one?" the guy in the helmet muttered.
"Oh, lucky him," Janet said, for lack of anything better.
"He's lucky." The sharp voice came from the top of the staircase, surprising Brad and Janet. "You're lucky, I'm lucky, we're all lucky!" a rather astonishing woman proclaimed as she slid down the railing.
"The banister's lucky!" the biker chimed in. Riff Raff and Magenta gave him odd looks.
(later)
"Great Heavens!" Dr. Scott exclaimed. "That's a laser!"
"Yes, Dr. Scott," Riff Raff replied, waving the device in emphasis. "A laser, capable of emitting a beam of pure anti- matter."
"--I guess it isn't really a laser, then, is it?" the guy in the helmet remarked as he walked up behind Riff Raff and deftly disarmed him.
(You get the idea...)
--Sam (Evil Midnight Lurker)
"In just seven days--"
"AND SIX LONG NIGHTS!"
"...will you please STOP that?!"