Tevun-Krus #26 - Alternative Universe

Smith & Jones: Act II Scene III

Brought to you this month by the team of MadMikeMarsbergen & OutrageousOllo!

 

Dirty, old, weathered bricks lined the alley Smith appeared within, alongside his long-time friend, drinking buddy and fellow Genre-Loop trapee, Evilstien Goodstone. Hold on, that wasn't right. Doctor Evilstien wasn't his friend, or his drinking buddy, or anything of the like—that was Jones! Where was old Jonesy, anyway? Wait, who was Jones again?

He looked back at his pal Evilstien and frowned.

"What's wrong, love?" Evilstien asked, noticing his concerned look.

"Nothing," said Smith, moving out of a woman's way while she dragged her kicking-and-screaming son by his ear. "I just had some weird thoughts, is all. Shall we take a look around and find out where we are? See if we can find the rest of the gang?"

"Rest of the gang? Our lady Kris, you mean, dear?"

"No, I mean H'ver and Boogaloo..." Smith frowned again. "Who are they? Evilstien, I feel as though I must be coming down with some type of strange genre-loop flu. I keep on spouting nonsense and feeling all this bizarre déjà vu. And, for some reason, I— I think I'm in love with you."

"That sounds terrible," said Evilstien, generating sympathy in his voice that contrasted with his heavily rotted, sharpened-to-a-point yellow-black fangs. He stroked Smith's arm lovingly. "But, love, we've been married for thirty of this planet's years, so you loving me is no secret, no surprise. We've dominated worlds together, dominated the dance floor back in the '80s, too..." He sighed, the back of his hand placed gingerly against his forehead as if he were this close to fainting. "But I, too, feel this déjà vu you speak of, peasant. Mwahaha—! See!" He burst into tears, hugging Smith. "Hold me, Smithy-poo. Right there, I had joyful thoughts of removing your guts with a corkscrew and strangling you with them. But then I look at you and remember a marriage built to last, and a booty to die for. Maybe Kris can help us, Johnny-wonny. Let's find her."

They ventured out of the alley and into the street beyond. People of all shapes and sizes, carts, familiar accents and the smell of human stench surrounded them. "Why," said Smith, beaming, "I think we're back home in London!" He filled his lungs with the pleasantly noxious London air: of excrement and fermenting food, of diseased rats and gingivitis.

Suddenly, Kris sprinted from around the corner. Her red hair and face were drenched with sweat. She looked like she'd been running for a long time. "Smith!" she yelled, between gasps of breath. She was back in her original tight leather, which she must have been happy about.

A certain part of Smith was happy about that, too.

"Smith! Thank fuck I found you, fruitcake! We gotta find Jones and the rest—"

There was that Jones guy's name again. Maybe he wasn't completely crazy.

"—but I'm warnin' you, it might get a teensy bit nasty before that happens. I ain't quite sure, pardner, but I reckon we've just landed in..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on Evilstien. "What the fuck is that thing doin' here?"

"Why are you cussing, sweet lady?" Smith asked. "Why, this is just the love of my life, our good friend—" But before he even got the chance to finish his sentence, Kris leaped onto Evilstien and started pummelling him with her fists. "What's wrong with you? You know this sweet and innocent man! We've been through half the Sub-Genreverse with him by our side! Recapturing cities from the scourge of the universe! Playing lawn darts while drunk! Reading one another's auras on mushrooms!"