[Mortals] Holy freaky Friday, Batman!

[sotongeistooc.livejournal.com]

 “Get off me, infernal creature!” Mike woke with a start, some cryptid nightmare mewing at his face and coating him in slime, preparing to devour him. A surge of adrenaline kicked in as he clawed at it, his arms feeling remarkably small and ineffectual against the onslaught. Then, blinking furiously, he saw his surrounds.

“Trouble?” he asked, realising his assailant was Emma’s cat. “What are…” then he heard his own voice, the accent strange and noticeably more high-pitched. His arms, too, lacked their muscular definition, and he appeared to have…well, boobies under his pajamas.

He sat up, glancing around the room. It was Emma’s flat. And, in the mirror, staring back at him, was the face of another. It looked kind of like Emma, only slightly less attractive; her face was all pasty and blotchy, hair scattered as though she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. He tried to raise his eyebrow in curiosity. The figure in the mirror wrinkled her nose.

“This is highly curious,” he remarked, watching as Emma’s – and he was sure it was Emma now – mouth went all uncertain and wibbly. He raised a hand, and made some random sign language symbols. The mirror matched each one.

Well. That confirms it. I am Emma.

Well, that’s odd.

Oh my word! How am I supposed to be Emma and protect her modesty at the same time? I’ve got to look… there… at some point. What if I need the toilet?

Wait! Confound it, man! Woman! Think about the science! What’s happened? That’s more pressing than any need to navigate any potential removal of my undergarments!

Mike rose from the bed, and looked for Emma’s mobile. Trouble shifted uncomfortably, mewing at the form of his mistress with confused distrust mixed with a need for breakfast. Mike ignored him, and quickly called his own phone. Voicemail, blast it!

“Emma,” he began, “I hope you get this. This is Mike. I suspect I am currently in your body. Quite how this occurred, I am uncertain, but evidently you and I have embarked on a hitherto neglected corridor of science. We have achieved an event believed to be impossible according to the basic principles of energy transference. We have overcome physics itself, defeating Newton faster than an apple to the noggin!

“But I digress. There are, as far as I can tell, four possibilities. First, I have somehow astrally projected into your body, and you into mine, via the medium of mystical mumbo-jumbo. This is hardly likely, as the very idea is absurd. Second, it is possible that we generated a paradoxical transference of Clark-Yamashita particles due to reversed flux generation on a quantum singularity. This is more probable, albeit unlikely, because we were both present during discharge from Operation Knitted Gorilla. Third, we could have generated some kind of neurotransmitter transference. This would mean, of course, that I have overwritten your very consciousness, and only I have transferred bodies. Therefore you will not get this message, as I, by which I mean my original body, am currently a drooling vegetable.

“There is, however, one final possibility. I may be you, if you are in fact you and not me, and I am not me but you, if you are currently me and I am currently you. If that is the case, then I, Emma Poole… I mean, uhm…Vivianne Porkins? Well, whoever, but I shall be Emma in this… uhm. In essence, I’m trying to postulate the possibility that I have always been Emma Poole, and in fact only am imagining that I am really Michael Batman. In which case, Mike, please may I have the day off, because I appear to be suffering some form of mental breakdown.”

With that he ended the call, and stared at the cat.

“Trouble,” he – she – said, “Let’s get you some Kitty Nibbles.”

Comments

[lslaw.livejournal.com]

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[akonken.livejournal.com]

I love you forever.