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“I am Voldemort” triumphantly proclaimed the dark wizard to the assembled mages.

Ridcully scratched his nose. “Is that supposed to be impressive? I mean, your name is Klatchian for ‘death of voles’. Its hard to be scared of someone who calls himself ‘death of voles’”

Ponder interrupted; “actually sir I believe the correct translation would be ‘vole of death’”

Ignoring Ponder, Ridcully pressed on, “Regardless, its not something that scares the natives. I mean, if you want to see something scary, you should watch the Dean eat”

* * *
"First, Sorceress, I'm going to insert these crystal balls into you." gloated Skeletor. "Then you'll be well and truly f*cked."

- from Fifty Shades of Grayskull, by Evil-Lyn James

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* * *
The witches paused, taken aback by Macbeths question.

Impatiently Macbeth asked again. "Look you said 'Unitil Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane' - does this mean that Ents will be involved? Its kind of important."

* * *
“Easy luv”, Spike leered at Buffy & the gang blocking his exit from the room. “You sure you want to spend time chasing after me, when my boy is out there?”

“Pretty sure, Spike. We’ll deal with you, and then we’ll deal with your pal.”

“Well, that’s the thing isn’t it. We could waste time trying to get me. And I say trying, cos I’m pretty confident that I can kill most of you – but haven’t you worked out what he’s doing?”

Xander shouted with more bravura then he felt “Why shouldn’t we bother chasing you then, you.. you…” he paused momentarily lost “You… evil... creature of the night” he finished lamely.

Willow piped up “I mean, we know your guy is a necromancer, but he’s nowhere near any graves or cemeteries”

“Well then, the brainbox speaks”. Spike kept circling around trying to get to the window.

“Here’s a hint, luv, the guys & I got to watching Jurassic Park yesterday. Bloody impressive if you ask me – none of those stop motion effects from the 60’s. Does that help?”

Giles frowned, realising where this was heading.

Xander blinked, confused. “He’s going to resurrect Ray Harryhausen? But he’s not dead!”

Spike paused, momentarily non-plussed. “He’s going to Sunnydale natural history museum because you need is a link to the body – or bodies in this case. You can only stop one of us, I’d say. So, either me, or the man whose about to create a herd of undead T-Rexes and diplo… dip.. bloody large arsed long necked beasties”

He lit a cigarette and judged the distance to the window, just in case. “Your call, Slayer”
* * *
* * *

The Cylon advanced upon them, red eye gleaming, scanning from side to side.

“Doctor! Get out of there!” Rory & Amy chorused

With a slight smile and tweak on his bow-tie, the doctor pulled out the psychic paper and held it up directly in front of the Cylon.

There was a pause followed by a distinctly audible ‘beep’ and the Cylon froze.

“What… what did you do?” Rory stuttered.

The Doctor held up the paper “Barcode. They cant help but read it. Gets Cylons every time”

* * *

My Name is DCI Sam Tyler. I was in a car accident in 2008 and I woke up to find myself on a spaceship called the Heart of Gold.

Marvin tells me that this happens depressingly often, but am I dead? Mad? Or… in the future?

* * *
"Go to MIR-sector. Save our people."

A final time, he lifted his head and spoke.

"My brother. My captain. My king."

His head sank back against the rough-trod earth, and he whispered his last.

"And remember ... the Computer ... is your ... friend."

-- from "The Death of Bor-O-MIR", trad.

* * *

Deliberately ignoring the chaos outside, the Torchwood director stood his ground under the Doctors querulous cross-questioning. ‘We had no choice! You weren’t here and… well, what other options did we have? The Daleks were killing indiscriminately!’

‘Didn’t I warn you? Don’t use the Gamma-laser, I said. I’m sure I said that’. The doctor looked briefly at his assistant who nodded in affirmation. ‘Ha! See! Proof!

‘But it was the only thing that could get through their casings!’

‘So you went ahead and used it anyway?’

The solid steel doors to the room sagged as though battered by heavy, deafening, blows. ‘Yes – and it worked. Thousands upon thousands of Daleks were incapacitated!’

Temporarily’ finished the doctor. ‘You do realise that a Dalek is designed to be angry all the time, don’t you?’

Flinching as the hinges strained to their breaking point, the director finally cracked ‘Yes? So what?’

‘Well, it’s the missing factor, isn’t it? - Just ask Dr…’With a deafening screech, the doors flew across the room, forcing everyone to take cover. Outside, a gigantic super-muscular green form tried to squeeze into the room, whilst it bellowed “DALEK SMASH PUNY TORCH WOOD HUMANS!”

Avoiding the lashing tentacles, the doctor drew his screwdriver and smiled at the cowering form of the Director. ‘Banner. Look at Dr Banners work next time, eh?’

* * *

The French architect gestured wildly ‘Doomed! Doomed I tell you!

A pause. Whispers. Confirmation

‘Sorry, monsieur. Ze Cathedral will be domed.’

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