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[lamb_of_gold]

[Enter David Bowie.



No. I'm not kidding.




ENTER A MAN with fabulous hair and makeup, tight clothing, RUFFLES and three shiny glass balls. The man looks at himself and sighs a mighty sigh. When he speaks, his voice, once again, sounds like that of a slightly smaller, more effeminate gentleman of saintly leanings.]


Of course, the one time I do not worry about it happening again, it does.


[off to work, will tag on return]

Comments

[didorothy]

[It's David-bloody-Bowie, the bastard who put Sam in this coma!]

Brilliant. Brilliant. Bodyswaps, headaches, cheetahs, and now someone's mad e a mess of my meds again and I'm seeing David-bloody-Bowie. Going to sing us a round of "Life on Mars," are you? Or maybe a solid rendition of "Ashes to Ashes!" Oh, and while you're here? Reality was shit.

[lamb_of_gold]

...Sam?

[didorothy]

You would know me, wouldn't you?

[lamb_of_gold]

It's Mu.

[didorothy]

[this is the, 'you're stupid' face]

No, it's David--

[this is the, 'oh my god, Mu is Bowie??' face]

--oh my God, it's Mu?

[lamb_of_gold]

This is the second time I've appeared in a body not my own.

[didorothy]

But Bowie!!

[lamb_of_gold]

Who?

[didorothy]

David Bowie? Life on Mars? Ashes to Ashes? Space Oddity? Ziggy Stardust, his Rise and Fall and the Spiders from Mars? Labyrinth -- bloody Labyrinth, which is where that get-up you're wearing is from?

...Somehow, I'm not surprised you wouldn't know him, even if he does exist in your universe.

[lamb_of_gold]

[Have a blank stare]

[didorothy]

It's... oh, just forget it. That body you're in is the body of a musician from my world.

[lamb_of_gold]

[Blinks]

How strange.

[didorothy]

[Still slightly set off by the Bowie-ness of it all, Sam folds his arms]

You do sound yourself, though. Not like Bowie.

[lamb_of_gold]

A small relief.

[didorothy]

Yeah.

[can't. stop. staring.]