Chapter One
I've moved into a new flat. It's kind of a mixture between my current place and Charlotte Court, but more than anything, it is grey. I'm expecting a package, and I'm told one of my new neighbours has a fondness for recycling and often picks up other people's mail by mistake, so I head round to hers. It turns out that a) I live next to award winning artist Fiona Staples, and b) Fiona really needs to tidy her flat up. There's papers and parcels and canvasses and cardboard covering the floor and several desks; a 70s style gas heater pokes out from the far room. Fiona does indeed have my post and hands me a long poster tube. I keep to myself that its housing one of her Saga prints, but introduce myself and mention I've ordered the HC, which surprises her as she didn't know it was being published.
As well as Staples, I make become friends with another flat owner in the complex, though I don't really remember much about him after waking up. The three of us hang out every now and then, but there's a growing sense of dread amongst us and the other occupants of the building over the next few weeks. It turns out that the building is haunted. The other occupants are all living in fear of an invisible ghost named Pandora that haunts the building, attacking people every now and then. One time, in my bathroom, I managed to catch a glimpse of her in the reflection of my bathroom mirror; a giant, almost completely transparent jelly-fish, its wraith tendrils gently floating around its body as if under water. Thankfully, she doesn't seem interested in me (not that I can judge a jelly-fish's mood by looking at it, but I took the fact that I was still breathing to be a good sign), however she's directly between myself and the door. I could try and make a break for the exit, but doing so would mean turning from the mirror and thus losing track of her position in the room. I figure that the ghost-jelly-fish probably has shoes on - despite having just seen the thing and knowing it doesn't have feet, let alone shoes - so I sprinkle water all over the floor in front of me. Surely enough, large boot-prints start appearing in the droplets and I'm able to get past without pissing it off.
Fiona, That One Other Guy and I all decide to do something about the ghost as word arrives that it has killed someone else. I guess that there's going to be one of those its-more-scared-of-us-than-we-are-of-it third act twists coming up soon, and figure that she's probably just angry at being trapped in this set of flats for an afterlife. I reason that if she is trapped, I'll open a window to let her out and in order to prove I'm not a threat and don't want to hurt her, jump off a ledge into a garden (which is somehow on the roof).
For whatever reason, Pandora seems to appreciate my improvised exorcism and turns from invisible jelly-fish phantasm into old-timey woman in a raggedy ball gown and Doc Martins. She looks back at us with a deadpan expression on her pale face and walks off into the depths of the roof-garden. With Captain America.
A week later, our ethereal experience is being broadcast on TV. Fiona has since moved out, so I ring her up to let her know, our story was televised. I feel exhausted as I realise that this means the building will fall under super-natural turmoil every week for the entertainment of the viewers at home.
Chapter Two
Some time later, I'm visiting the Royal Albert Hall with my family. On the inside of the building, it actually looks more like The Majestic Theatre, though slightly bigger. We've arrived for the production early: there are only a few people already seated - including the O'Learys - and we approach the usher's desk, which is placed in the middle of the stalls. We purposely turned up without any tickets as we knew that they'd be much cheaper on the day. We buy four tickets from the old man, who explains we can sit anywhere as long as we're 9 meters away from the stage, and head down to the third row seats.
We approach our chairs when a member of the audience's phone starts ringing. It is a jaunty, monophonic tone and it is LOUD. For whatever reason, everyone in the theatre finds this hilarious. Soon after, someone else's phone starts ringing. And another, and another, until everyone's mobiles are chirping out that same ring tone. And it is HILARIOUS. Distracted, Mum knocks a deck of cards from a table onto the floor with her elbow. I go to pick them up for her, but I look down to see hundreds of cards scattered over the red carpet. Annoyingly, I'm going to have to un-shuffle them into six separate decks again.
At this point, Alex comes running in with news. "TOM VOICE IS UPSTAIRS AND TOM IS DOWNSTAIRS". I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to make of this information, but a few more people are filtering into the auditorium now, so I gather all the cards, worried someone will take our seats. My parents join us but Mum doesn't look happy with me "What's the matter with you?" she asks; to which Alex and I naturally respond "Hey! Ya got-a no respect". Again, small audience breaks into hysterics. The old man at the usher's table begins playing the stupid song on the organ.
And then I woke up.
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| Staples' self portrait, with Saga writer BKV |
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