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msknight

Michelle's corner

Michelle Knight. Writer, photographer, programmer, truck driver and general, all round nut case. Life is a journey and that's what this blog will probably end up being. Let's see where we go, eh? ;-)

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Your Beauty Mark. All You Need to Get the Hair, Makeup, Glow, and Glam.
Dita von Teese
Progress: 208/256 pages

To see if this works...

Well, I thought I'd give this a try and see how it worked, formatting-wise. This is a short fan-fic of Dr. Who. Doesn't actually involve the Dr., just an imaginary scene of some everyday folk dealing with the aftermath.

 

 EXT: CARE HOME

 Jane is walking off the street, through the gate and up the
 path. She is aware of the documentary camera crew following
 her. Jane is distressed about the whole situation.

          JANE
  "I mean, it's OK for the Doctor. He
  swoops in, saves the world and then
  buggers off again. Not so much as a
  by your leave."

 She reaches the door, pushes the buzzer and announces
 herself. There is a buzzing sound, Jane opens and walks
 through the door. The crew follows.

          JANE
      (to receptionist)
  "Hi Flo."

          FLO
  "Hi Jane. She's in the usual
  chair."

          JANE
  "Thanks."

 Jane walks further in to the building, documentary crew
 following.

          JANE
      (talking to the documentary
      crew over her shoulder)
  "I mean, he just leaves us to cope
  with all the mess. This happened
  after the cyber invasion in 2011. I
  mean ... look at granny there."

 They emerge in to a room full of chairs and elderly people.
 A cyberman is sat in a reinforced chair, holding knitting
 needles.

          JANE
      (touch of distress in the
      voice)
  "Our surgeons can't cope with this
  advanced technology. No one can get
  her out. She's stuck in there."

          GRANNY EVE
      (lowers knitting)
  "Identify."

          JANE
  "It's Jane, granny."

          GRANNY EVE
  "Searching database."

          JANE
      (to documentary crew)
  "We think dementia is setting in.
  It takes longer each time for her
  to look me up."

          GRANNY EVE
  "Identified. Would you like a nice
  c-c-cup of t-t-t-tea?"

          JANE
  "No thanks Gran. We're not stopping
  long."

 Granny Eve returns to her knitting.

          JANE
      (to the camera)
  "Whatever she says, don’t accept
  her offer of tea and biscuits.
  Every time she tires to eat a
  jammie dodger, we’ve got to get the
  local body shop to buff her face up
  again. I mean, they’ve been very
  accommodating so far, but you can
  tell they feel very awkward about
  it.”

 Jane pauses while she looks at Granny for a while, then
 returns to talking at the camera.

                JANE
  “We daren’t plug her in to the
  mains. For a start, the neighbours
  complain about the voltage drop,
  but then she goes through wool at
  five balls a minute. Have you tried
  funding that kind of knitting
  habit? I mean, it wouldn’t be SO
  bad, but no one wants to buy wooly
  jumpers at cyber-size; not now that
  we’re fighting obesity. Where the
  heck she got the pattern from, we
  don’t know. I mean, if the Doctor
  could help us reprogram her with a
  pattern that would sell, that would
  be a start.”

 Loks at Granny for a few more moments and turns to the
 camera again.

          JANE
  “I really don’t know what we’re
  going to do. Funding her care is a
  nightmare. She’s guaranteed rust
  free for five hundred years; how do
  you think we’re going to cope with
  those sorts of bills? I dread to
  think how we’re going to cremate
  her. The local steel factory went
  out of business years ago and they
  were the only place for miles
  around with crucibles hot enough to
  melt her. Fortunately, that’s one
  problem that is a few generations
  down the line.”

 Takes another look at Granny before delivering her last
 speech to the camera

          JANE
  “The only up side to all this is
  that young Jimmy can still sit on
  her knee … when he’s fifty. I mean,
  where the heck is the Doctor in all
  this? Eh?”

 Camera fades to black.

—-

Other ideas – a Welshman becomes cultural ambassador to the Silurians, “Well, being underground isn’t too much of a problem. I’m from a mining family, see, so I suppose it’s in the blood.”