The 'Twilight' series belongs to Stephenie Meyer, Time Lords and TARDISes belong to the BBC, the PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia, and this fic belongs to Twila of ff.net (she is most welcome to it!).
“We’re here!” The Fisherman announced, flicking a lever on the TARDIS console.
“And here is?” Evie asked.
“Elysia, a planet in the Metroid continuum. The perfect place to rest and recuperate after being exposed to ‘Sues. Don’t wander too far from the TARDIS, the atmosphere isn’t exactly what you’d call, er, breathable.”
Evie opened the TARDIS doors, expecting to see some kind of alien landscape. What she saw instead was a toilet. “Do they have toilets on Elysia?”
“No idea, why, do you need to go?”
“No, but I don’t think we’ve landed where you think we have.”
The Fisherman finally headed over to the doors. “Er, no. We appear to be within PPC HQ.”
“How can you tell? It’s just a toilet!”
In response he simply pointed to the graffiti scrawled on a tile. ‘One day I’ll get a BIG FLAMETHROWER and all the Flowers will GO AWAY. BURNBURNFIREFIREBURN.’ Not something you’d expect to see on many toilet walls.
“Well, while we’re here, I have a requisition to make,” the Fisherman said, heading back to the control panel. “I’ll just turn her around so we can actually get out of here.”
“So what are you after exactly?” Evie asked as she and the Fisherman wandered through HQ’s grey corridors.
“If I told you now, I get the feeling that I’d never be able to get it,” he replied absent-mindedly.
Several minutes of aimless wandering later, they arrived at a door marked RC #4314, DoSAT. The door was ajar, and a strange low humming noise emanated from the room beyond. Her curiosity piqued, Evie simply pushed the door open. Inside, Agent Chase was attempting to catch a small version of the USS Voyager in a large butterfly net.
“What… how?” the Fisherman asked, immediately recognising the shrunken Starfleet ship.
“Trust me. You don’t want to know,” Chase replied, putting the net down. The mini-Voyager was now flying around close to the ceiling. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, most agents have access to a replicator, or some other device for getting small items as and when they need them. My TARDIS doesn’t have one, and I was kinda hoping you would.”
“Er, sure, I’ll install one as soon as I’ve contained that,” Chase replied, looking up at mini-Voyager.
“No,” the Fisherman replied. “Just give me the unit, the last time you meddled with my ship I ended up with a singing fish on the control panel.”
“Which is still there, to be honest,” Evie added.
“Hang on,” Chase headed into the back room. “Watch that.” He pointed blindly back at the tiny starship.” A few minutes later he returned with a large microwave-like device. “A PPC-augmented replicator Mk III. Don’t ask it for impossible things, or it might do something crazy. Like create them.”
Returning to the TARDIS after another few minutes aimless wandering, the agents found that it had taken on the appearance of a portable toilet.
“Nice,” Evie said, smiling. “A TURDIS.”
The Fisherman decided not to reply.
Inside, the Cloister Bell was ringing, and a wall of text had appeared on the TARDIS viewscreen.
The Special Operations Division exists for a reason. Your next mission exemplifies this perfectly. The truth is that nobody else would touch this fic, and few others would venture to this continuum, and thus it falls to SOD. Don’t let me down. Oh, and no charging/killing canon characters! – The Bonsai Monkey Puzzle Tree
“What could be so horrible. Oh no. I hope it isn’t…” Evie began before the Fisherman was able to shut her up.
“Don’t,” he said. “You know what the Overpower is like. Let’s see if the damage has already been done.” One look at their assignment told him that it had.
Fic title: Twila The Girl Who Waz In Luv With A Vampyre
Notes: First-Person, use of a Crash Dummy highly recommended
“Ohno, nonononono,” Evie muttered. “I didn’t ask to be assigned to SOD, you know?”
“Well, me neither, but we were, and so we have to do the Duty. But first,” the Fisherman dashed over to the replicator. “I’m hooking this thing up. If they’re sending us into the Twilight continuum we’re going to need Bleeprin.”
Almost twenty minutes of open TARDIS panels, wires trailing through the console room and Evie doing little other than snarking later, the Fisherman had finished. He had managed to connect the replicator and (claimed to have) fixed the dimension rotor so the TARDIS wouldn’t end up in any more toilets.
“Brief detour to DoSAT to pick up a dummy, and then it’s off to the land of sparklepires,” the Fisherman said as he fiddled with the TARDIS controls. “What fun we have.”
Hi my name is Twila Beatiful Psyco Topaz (not cullen yet, bcuz i ddnt meet edward yet) n i live in waschington wif my sister Midnite.
“What?” was the only thing the Fisherman could say in response.
His partner was trying to keep her sanity by carrying on with routine, and started a charge list. “Having a needlessly long and utterly stupid name, directly addressing the reader, murdering the English language, using stupid explanative notes,” she reeled off.
i go 2 a hi school n every1 finks dat im really hott, i hav strait blak hair nd topez eyes n mi sister midnte is da same accept she has magenta eyez. i wear lots of blak makup on mi eyes even tho i hav dark ciircles under my eyes, (a/n ok if u think thats lame then FUK U, edword has dem too and steraphie myers sed hes realli hot ok.) i dnt lyk any1 at mi school, i am a missenthrop (a/n loook it up) that menz i hate other ppl accept midnite.
The agents struggled to maintain consciousness as the dense Words assaulted their senses. The Sue was visible inside the classroom closest to the agents. Her hair was indeed black, although took on the vague appearance of water (most likely due to the mention of ‘strait’), and true to the Words she had a series of small black circles under her eyes.
“You know what,” the Fisherman muttered as his vision cleared. “I think this is a troll fic. No real Suethor capable of that trainwreck of a description would have even heard of the word misanthrope.”
“Poe’s law,” Evie replied. “You can never tell. Let’s work on the assumption that this is a genuine Sue until we’re sure.”
one day i met a realli sexi vampore named EDWARD CULLENS he haz realli white skin lyk me.
A small, sparkling wolf, not much larger than a rat came into existence just inside the classroom door. The Fisherman lunged forward and grabbed it by its collar. “A mini,” he said. “One of many if this level of language butchery carries on.” Turning back to the TARDIS, which had disguised itself as a water cooler, he opened the door and flung the mini inside. “We’ll deal with those later, I’ll make a sweep in the TARDIS to collect them all, otherwise we’ll be here forever chasing the things.”
Evie did not look at all happy at that idea.
he is satan's gift to dis planet (a/n I DONT BELEVE IN GOD I AM N ATHEIST. i thnk saten created dis universe god bles u satan u r alwayz in mi heart.)
The agents struggled to contain their laughter as the author’s note boomed inside their heads.
“I think that’s the only time I’ll ever see the phrase ‘god bless you satan’ used seriously,” Evie said.
“Even though she said in the previous breath that she doesn’t believe in God,” the Fisherman added. “Yeah, makes perfect sense.”
Edward and Bella were talking about something that the agents couldn’t quite make out while the Sue stared at the couple. Suddenly, Bella was thrown sideways by an unseen force and fell to the ground. She got up as if nothing had happened and sat back down, only to have the same thing happen a few seconds later.
“Huh?” the Fisherman muttered, and began scanning the Words. “Ah, must be ‘she waz soo stupid n she kept fallin out of her seat’”
"Heyy" he sed walkn away from bella. dere were some gay ass ghetto ppl in his way doin da SOLDA BOY CRANK DANce n he jus lookd at dem with his dethly eyes n they iran away.
A group of Generic Hip-Hop dancers appeared in the classroom and began dancing to an irritatingly repetitive beat that seemed to play from nowhere. Edward stared at the group, and they instantly turned into crude approximations of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and sprinted out of the room. The agents were dumbstruck for several seconds as they watched the insane scene unfold.
“I don’t think the Word World quite knew what to make of that,” the Fisherman said after the last ghetto! Ahmadinejad had fled out of sight.
Fearing for their sanity, the agents portalled to the next major scene. For some reason, Edward had told Twila that his father ‘carlose’ wanted to meet her.
“Why am I not surprised?” Evie muttered, adding to the charge list.
"You Must be twila, my u certenly r attraxive" he teasd me seductevly. ed, jasp, emet, alison n rosaline all growld at him angrly, all sensitive becuz they liked me 2
“Charge,” both agents said in unison.
“Making the entire Cullen clan fall in love with you, overwrought dialogue description,” Evie said as she tapped it into her wrist computer. She then retrieved her CAD from her backpack and pointed it at Twila.
[Twila Beatiful Psyco Topaz. ‘vampir’ female. Non-canon. Mary-Sueeeeeeedidyoureallyneedmetotellyouthat.]
“As expected,” she continued. Next she aimed the device at Edward.
[Edward Cullen... ohnopleasenodontaskmetodothiswhyme. ‘Vampire’ male. Canon. Out-of-characcc…whatcharacter?…cccter 8.33%]
“Hmm, low reading,” the Fisherman said. “Then again I suppose he does have a thing for getting attached to young Mary-Sue girls.”
The other canons had similar readings, all of the Cullen clan had been pulled OOC to varying degrees.
“Next scene, I think,” Evie said, opening a portal. “Let’s make a list of the major charges and kill this thing.”
“I take it back,” Evie said. “This is a trollfic. Anyone who thinks that Tara Gillesbie is worthy of anything more than derision is either a troll or has TLTD.”
“TLTD?” the Fisherman asked.
“Terminal Lack of Taste Disorder. She might be ‘grate’ all right, but only as in ‘grate on every fiber of your being’.”
Wen i walkd in2 da house edward disapered and den appered at da piano (hez a vamprie he kan do that.) he storted 2 play Famous Last werds by mi chemical romans.
“And why would Edward even know some random song by an emo-punk-pop-whatever-the-hell-they-are band, let alone how to play it?” the Fisherman said, exasperated. “Oh and the teleportation is charge-worthy too.”
“You know a fic is bad when a character teleporting for no good reason is relegated to an afterthought,” Evie added.
The Sue began to sing and was, for no apparent reason, glomped by every canon character in the room except Edward. She and Edward managed to beat them off, the odds of 5:2 seemingly having no impact on the brief ‘fight’.
Shortly afterwards, ‘alise’, who was described in the Words as a ‘plebian’ and had therefore acquired the garb of a lower-middle class Roman citizen, declared that she wanted to marry Twila.
"OMFG NOOOO" i shouted cuz i dint want ne1 2 get hurt. eds shirt bursted opened wif mussels.
The vampires did not seem at all bothered by the fact that about fifty shellfish had flown out from Edward’s chest.
"TWOLA IS MARRING ME ALREADI" he sed wif his voice was booming n all da windows exploded n da glass rained down lik in dat avril laven video wer she punches da miror n da glass all flyes out around her.
“Ooh, a mini-Sue,” Evie said as a smaller version of Twila popped into existence. Mini-Twila was simply that, a one-eighth-scale version of the real thing. Evie picked up one of the many shards of glass that lay on the floor and used it to impale the mini before she could cause any trouble. “Satisfying,” she reported nonchalantly. “But not as satisfying as doing in the real thing will be.”
so they sedeted alison n she fel asleep n rose came bak 2 lyf. we had berger king 4 diner bcuz i had 2 hurry. n then i went home thinsking of edword the hole time and how his flami hot lips felt on my.
“Aargh! Time compression!” the Fisherman growled. His head felt as though it was being shrunk from the inside. “Move on, move on!”
“Ah, this must be the sister with the ‘magenta eyez’,” the Fisherman said as the agents stepped out of the portal into an extremely Generic house. “Who is now, for some reason, engaged.”
Evie began scanning the words. “She doesn’t appear after this, you know.”
“Yeah, the Suethor seems to be busy with… other things. So you know what this means?” Evie had a slightly mad glint in her eye.
“It means we can kill her,” the Fisherman said. “Quickly.”
Suddenly... dey al shoted "SURPISEE!1" Midnite n Jasper wernt getting married... IT WAZ 4 ME AND ED! (a/n dey got mared da next day insted).
"NO WAY I was sooo inflated. Edward and me had an atheest ceremoni in my hose
“If I have any brain cells left after this mission, remind me to have a word with the small tree,” the Fisherman said, trying to stay calm as the scene changed to the inside of a giant garden hosepipe. Twila’s body (due to being ‘sooo inflated’) grew to the size of a large exercise ball, and then a wedding took place at comical speed.
After the ‘ceremoni’, Twila and all of the canons went to a party, leaving Midnite alone in the pipe.
“Midnite Topaz,” the Fisherman began. “You are charged with the following: aiding and abetting a Mary Sue, being a good approximation of one yourself, having a non-canonical eye colour for your species and with being a pointless bit character. I’m sure you have some last words, but inevitably they would only add to your charge list so I suggest you keep them to yourself. Evie, she’s all yours.”
“fuk u. u prepz y cannt u jus…” she managed to say before a portal opened up beneath her and gravity took over.
“Er, where does that go?” the Fisherman asked.
“Tunguska, 1908. She should be just in time for the fireworks,” Evie said, closing the portal.
“So she’s going to be flattened by an exploding asteroid?”
“Well if you won’t trust me with weapons, I have to improvise!”
The agents scanned the Words for the next charge-worthy scene and portalled.
“I’m assuming ‘Saten’ is meant to be ‘Satan’, as in the same Satan from earlier that she believes created the universe,” Evie said. “’Being friends with a supposed creator deity’ goes on the charge list then.”
The agents followed Twila the short distance to the Cullens’ house and watched as she discovered Rosalie in bed with Edward. Twila lunged at Rosalie and bit her neck.
Then she ran around nd died. Ed kept crying.
Unable to make more sense of the statement, the Word World had Rosalie run around like a headless chicken before collapsing instantly to the floor.
"Dis is disgusting" i said wif disgust. "I cant beleve it, u nd Rose." "Just listen ok" he pleased. "I culdnt c in da dark, I thought she was you."
“Paging the Department of Redundancy Department in order to report a redundant use of multiple synonymous words meaning the same thing,” Evie said.
“And wait,” the Fisherman began. “He couldn’t see whether the girl he was having sex with was his, er, wife, and yet he went ahead anyway, despite the fact that Twila lives somehwere completely different‽ Where is the logic?”
“Searching for logic in trollfic is like looking for sanity in PPC HQ. Pointless.”
“Oh… oh dear,” the Fisherman said, scanning the Words. “In the next few chapters, Twila and entourage decide to kill Bella. Thing is, Bella is a canon character and so… we’ll have to take her to Medical and revive her.”
“Can’t we just forget about that bit? I mean she is a Sue.”
“No. The last thing I want is for Upstairs to have a reason to send us on more missions like these. We watch, note the charges, deal with Twila and then take Bella to the Doc.”
“With regard to Twila, as she’s a troll do we just kill her like normal or is there some other procedure?” Evie asked.
“I imagine that we exorcise the troll much like an author-wraith and then kill that. For once the Sue isn’t the real problem, it’s the troll pulling the strings.”
“So you brought a copy of Twilight, then?”
Evie simply shuddered and made a ‘yuck’ face.
“What? Where'd that sword come from? Are swords even canon?” Evie blurted out.
“She’s not even trying to keep this believable,” the Fisherman said. “Crying blood isn’t impossible, but without an explanation it’s just nonsense. And a needle of cyanide? No no no, cyanide used as a poison comes in solid or gas form. Zero marks for science, Twila.”
I'm sad because there are so many things dat I want in life but evry1 only cares about my bodi!"
“Well done! You have an excellent understanding of priorities,” Evie snarked. “You’re about to commit murder and the only thing you care about is your oh so beautiful it’s a curse crud?”
Suddenly we killed her. Her body disintergrated into her bed which was all wet with blood. We ate her bed so there would be no evidenze (lol geddit like evinezenze.)
The agents looked at each other, and then back at the scene in front of them. No, they both decided, they were not dreaming. Twila and Edward really were eating Bella’s bed, stuffing huge chunks of stuffing into their mouths. Edward attempted to eat a mattress spring, but gave up after having it jump out of his mouth several times.
“Aaaahh!” the Fisherman shouted, as his eyes lit up with a realisation.
“The body’s gone! It ‘disintergrated’! How can we revive Bella without the body?”
“Er, no idea. Oh well, one less Sue to worry about.”
“You just don’t get it do you? The Flowers will kill us for this! No, wait, they’ll do worse, they’ll send us on more missions like this!”
The agents had failed to realise that their raised voices had broken their SEP field. Both Twila and Edward had stopped eating the bed and were now staring at them.
“hu are u ppl” Twila said through a mouthful of pillow.
“wut r u doing her?” Edward added.
‘Now’s as good a time as any,’ the Fisherman thought, fishing the neuralyzer out from his pocket and aiming it at Edward. Flash. “Edward Cullen. You are not married to, in love with or even aware of, Twila Beatiful Psyco Topaz. You are obsessed with Bella Swan, who is not dead, or at least won’t be once we figure out how to un-disintegrate her. We were never here. Go away and do whatever it is that sparkly vampires do.” Edward did just that, and headed out of the door. The agents watched to make sure that he left the house before turning their attention back to Twila.
“wat did u do to edward? ur just jellus dat u cnt have him 2 urselfs.”
“Get her!” Evie said. Her partner did just that, pressing the Sue up against a wall. “Got the book?” The Fisherman produced it from his pocket. “Right then.” Evie pressed a few buttons on her arm-computer, and some light trumpet music began to play.
“Really? This?” the Fisherman asked
“Trolololololololololololo, ohohohoho,” sang the voice of Eduard Khil.
“Thought it was appropriate.”
“I command the spirit of this troll out into the open, so that it may be seen for what it truly is,” the Fisherman shouted before whacking Twila with the book. “The power of, and I cannot believe I’m saying this, Stephenie Meyer compels you to emerge and face justice for your crimes against canon!” Whack.
A dark purple cloud emerged from the Sue and floated to the middle of the room. Now void of influence, the Crash Dummy reverted to its default appearance and was retracted by the Fisherman. The cloud gradually solidified into a large, muscular, thoroughly ugly troll with a small head, long arms and bloated grey body. For some reason it retained some of Twila’s appearance, and so had black hair and was wearing typical ‘emo’ makeup. Whether this dampened or amplified the ugliness of the creature, neither agent was quite sure.
“Troll!” Evie shouted. “Otherwise known as Twila Beatiful Psyco Topaz Cullen. We, as agents of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum charge you with the following: wilfully and maliciously perverting the Twilight canon, having a grasp of the English Language that a three year old would be ashamed of, the use of inane internet slang in writing, directly addressing the reader without cause, using author’s notes within the text, causing massive temporal compression, having a stupidly overdescribed appearance, being a vampire for no good reason, having no characterisation beyond being an ‘emo’, having no understanding of atheism despite claiming to be an atheist, creating confusing and ridiculous scenes involving the Iranian President, holding a wedding inside a giant hosepipe, reducing the characterisation of all characters besides the Cullens to that of ‘prepz’, having characters share your taste in music and fashion for no good reason, having characters teleport for no good reason, causing Edward Cullen to fall in love with you, causing all other Cullens to be attracted to you, breaking up a canon relationship, trivialising self-harm and murder, killing Bella Swan, compressing the geography of Forks, being friends with a supposed creator deity , eating an item of furniture, the creation of an as-yet-unknown number of minis and bringing a new meaning to the phrase ‘irritating PPC agents’.” Despite not really needing air, Evie took a deep breath.
“wut u gunna do den,” the troll growled in reply.
“We are going to,” the Fisherman began before he realised that he had no idea how they were going to kill the large troll. “Kill you. Once we’ve found out how to.”
“Don’t worry, same procedure as before,” Evie said, holding the remote activator out in front of her. “You love Satan so much, well, we hope you enjoy your Hell.” However, before she could open a portal the troll lashed out and knocked the remote activator to the floor, smashing it to pieces. “Bugger. I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare?”
“Nope,” he replied, looking around for a weapon as the troll lumbered across the room toward them. “Er… thinkthinkthink.” The troll swiped at the agents, causing them to jump into opposite corners of the room. “Ah,” the Fisherman shouted. “Go back to the school, the TARDIS should still be there. Fly back to HQ, go to the armoury and get hold of something that will kill this thing. I’ll distract it.”
“I can’t fly that thing! I wouldn’t even know where to start. And you’re closer to the door!”
The Fisherman sighed. “Fine, I’ll go. Just stay alive, OK.”
Leaving Evie behind to deal with the troll, the Fisherman once again found himself alone and running like mad back to his TARDIS. It only took a minute or two to reach the school due to the heavily compressed geography, and only a minute more to find the TARDIS-as-water-cooler. Rushing inside he quickly set the coordinates for the PPC Armoury and dematerialised.
“Ooh, hello there!” she said as the Time Lord approached.
“Hi, no time to explain really, I need something capable of taking down a troll,” he said quickly.
“Twilight, although I doubt it matters. Energy weapons would probably be best, something quiet.”
“Come with me,” the woman said, unlocking a door to the side of the counter and ushering the Fisherman inside. After wandering around several racks filled with every kind of weapon imaginable, they eventually came to a rack of brightly coloured alien-looking ones. “Covenant weapons from the Halo continuum,” she announced.
“At least I know something about these ones,” the Fisherman said, picking up a pink Type-50 Particle Beam Rifle and a blue Type-25 Plasma Rifle. “These should do nicely. Should I bring them back afterwards?”
“No need really, we can always go grab some more, they made so many during the war, no-one’s going to miss the few we grab.”
“u cnt stop mi u kno. im gunna rip u a part”
“A part of what?” Evie shouted back with feigned confidence as she looked around for something useful. She saw a rubbish bin next to the road and rushed to pick it up. Once she felt the troll had gotten close enough, she threw the bin at its head. The impact caused the beast to stop and stumble. In its confusion it lashed out at Evie, who only just managed to leap out of the way in time.
As she got up she remembered the CAD, and wondered if it might give any useful information. She fished around in her pack, retrieved the device and frantically waved it at the troll.
[Twilaaaaaaaaa Topazazazaz. Troll entity. Recommendation: Terminate entity with prejudice. Or just run. Fast.]
“Very helpful!” Evie shouted. “But how?”
As the troll lunged forward again, Evie heard the characteristic sound of a TARDIS materialising. She looked all around to see where the sound was coming from and eventually found a lamp-post fading into existence.
The Fisherman ran out of the TARDIS clutching the two weapons. “Evie!” he shouted. “Catch!” He threw the plasma rifle across the road to her.
“Plasma rifle? Cool!” she said, aiming it at the now somewhat confused troll.
The Fisherman had already aimed and prepped the particle rifle and was waiting for the creature’s head to be still enough to target. Evie began spraying plasma bolts at the troll, causing it to refocus its attention on her.
The troll roared as its skin was seared by the superheated gas. A second later, the Fisherman was ready. Shhink. A pink beam shot out from the strange gun. However, it missed the troll completely and went sailing over its shoulder.
“You missed!” Evie shouted.
“You think I don’t know that?” her partner replied, darting out of the way of the troll’s fist. When the troll began to refocus on Evie, he took aim again. Shhink. This time the shot caught the ugly being squarely in the head. It stumbled around for a moment or so before collapsing in agony. The Fisherman rounded it and shot it twice again, and the beast finally became totally silent.
“Phew,” he said. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Evie replied after catching her breath. “I assume we have to do something with this thing?”
“We’ll either need to move it, or otherwise get rid of it, the quicker the better.”
“We… I mean they use plasma-based power cells at Aperture Science, I’m sure I can overload this thing,” Evie said, waving the plasma rifle. “Cause a nice burst that’ll atomise everything within about four feet, including the gun.”
“Do it, but wait until we’re inside the TARDIS to set it off, yeah?”
Evie fiddled with the alien weapon and then tossed it down next to the troll’s body. “Come on, inside now, 10 seconds,” she said, running for the TARDIS.
Inside, the agents watched on the monitor as the troll disappear in a blue flash.
“Nice work,” the Fisherman said. “Now, to un-kill Bella and round up all the minis.”
“Got a plan I take it?”
“Well, an idea. We go grab a Simulation Generator from DoSAT and get Bella out before she’s, er, ‘disintergated’ or whatever happened to her.”
“Isn’t that crossing your own timeline or something like that?”
“Yes, so we’ll have to be very careful not to interact with anyone except Bella while we’re there. Just grab her and place her back here, after we’ve cleaned up. If we both leave, the continuum will reset, so I’ll drop you off at the right point and then come back with the SimGen.
“Here we go,” he whispered as he joined her behind the door, causing Evie to jump. He handed her a small black box with two mirrors attached to it. “Careful with that, DoSAT will… well you don’t want to know what they said they’d do to us if we broke it. It involved mashy spike plates and nailing custard to the ceiling.”
Evie took the device and pointed one mirror around the door, catching Bella’s reflection in it, being careful to avoid Twila and Edward, who were still arguing over who would actually kill Bella, or their past selves, who were crouching in the corner of the room. She tapped the large red button on the side of the box, and canon!Bella appeared next to the agents while a simulated version took her place on the bed, just in time for her to be ‘suddenly killed’.
“What just happened?” Bella asked, causing both agents to frantically shush her.
They led Bella out of her house and back to the TARDIS, which was again in the form of a lamp post.
“What is this place?” Bella asked, although she didn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that there was a whole world inside a street light.
The Fisherman simply held out the neuralyzer. Flash. “Bella Swan. You never saw us, you never entered the TARDIS, and you have no knowledge of the PPC or its agents. And… for goodness sake stop being an idiot and get a character besides being Edward’s bride-to-be. He’s not worth it! Grow a spine, girl, get away from Mr. Sparklepants… sorry.” Flash. “You never saw us, you never entered the TARDIS, and you didn’t hear my good advice. Now get lost, go back to obsessing over your sparkly boyfriend.” She did just that, stumbling over the door as she exited.
“And you were telling me about not interfering with canon?” Evie said once she’d left.
“Well… I can’t help but see your point. Ye gods. One day maybe the SO will declare her fair game and we can finish the job.”
“We’d have to fight off half the DMS first!”
“Fine by me!”
“Minis?” Evie asked expectantly.
“Oh Celestia, I forgot about them. Where’s the first one?”
“No idea. Probably wandered off deeper inside the TARDIS. Oh well, I suppose a pet will be a nice distraction.”
“You’re looking after it!” the Fisherman snarked back. “Anyway, round up time. Shut all the doors, I don’t want them all wandering off.”
“Two bleeprin,” Evie said to the replicator. There was a shimmer of energy and two small white pills appeared in the output bay. “Here, catch,” she threw one pill over to her partner.
“It’s funny,” the Fisherman said as he looked at the pill. “They never tell you how this stuff works. I know what it is, but I mean it’s got no right to…” He slowly trailed off as he noticed Evie glaring at him. “What?”
“You know why nobody asks why it works? Because if you start doing that there’s a good chance that it will stop working!”
“I think I caught you in time, we should be OK, you didn’t actually ask The Question. But be careful, the last thing we need after a fic like that is inactive bleeproducts.” They both swallowed the pills. The calm feeling of having the memories of badfic scrubbed from their brains told them that the Bleeprin was indeed working.
The viewscreen made a chirping, warbling noise indicating an incoming message.
Please see me in RC #4444 immediately. – The Bonsai Monkey Puzzle Tree
“Here we go again,” the Fisherman said as he set the controls for the RC and reached across for the demat control. Unfortunately he missed, and hit the red button on the Big Mouth Billy Bass instead, causing a distorted version of ‘Don’t Worry Be Happy’ to fill the inside of the console room. Curious as to what the sound was, the agents’ mini-sparklewolf bounded into the room and leapt at the singing fish. In his exuberance he managed to dismantle and silence the thing.
“You know what, I think he can stay.”