(click)

"Ooo, Adolph Hitler won. Nas-tee!"

(click)

"Whoops! Flying cars. Mid-air collisions. Who thought that was a good idea?"

(click)

"Strippers on television. Could be, if that was the Jerry Springer show, but not on Sunrise Sermonette." (pause) "I think I'll take note of that one. It might make an interesting vacation spot." (scribble)

(click)

"Hm. Bloated ankles, swollen belly, pint of Ben and Jerry's in one hand and a jar of dill pickles in the other. Crap, that guy is pregnant! Damn, I wish that was my home dimension. I wonder if I could get a guy knocked up?" (pause) (scribble)

(click)

"Gasp! Martha Stewart, you should be ashamed of yourself! Ouch! Talk about finding new uses for a hot glue gun. And the scary thing is, I have to mark this down as a possibility." (scribble)

(click)

"Oh, look. Dishonest politicians. How novel. That one gets listed." (scribble)

(click)

"Madame President?" *sigh*

(click) "A talking dog? That is so..." (click) "Wait a minute." (back click) "It's a Taco Bell commercial." (scribble) "Put a star by that one."

(click)

"Oh. hell-o. I really shouldn't be watching this, but, um, they do do that back home. At least the letters to Penthouse say that they do. I guess I should write this one down. (scribble) Wha...? DAMN" (click) *erp urk* *gasp* (SCRATCHSCRATCHSCRATCHERASEERASEERASE) "Shit, I guess black widow spiders evolved as the dominant species on that world, even if they did look human."

"Lessee. Lord, look at all the Gloria Vanderbilt and Calvin Klein jeans! If that's my home world, it's the eighties version, so..."

(click) (blink) "I didn't turn that knob. What...?" (slam) (look) "Oh, hey, Clive!"

(peck) "Hello, pet. Any luck?"

"I have no earthly idea. I've found a few that look promising, but there could be some hidden, minor differences that make major differences."

"Such as?"

"Well, if they're breathing methane instead of oxygen, it could cramp my style a little."

"Hm. We'll mention that to Supes. There should be a way he can test such things before sending you along."

"Speaking of Big Blue, what have you two been up to the last couple of hours?" *innocent whistle* "Uh-huh. Thought so."

"Stop it." *sigh* "Things are progressing nicely. I'd love to squire him to Lavender's Green, but I can see where he'd have to keep such a relationship on the QT, what with his position."

"Yes, despite the tights, Superman needs to keep a butch reputation. The supervillains just wouldn't take him seriously."

"But you know, pet, sometimes that's an advantage. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it when some wooden-headed goon thinks that just because I shag asses I can't kick his. My dear, the looks on their faces!"

"You're a wicked man, Clive."

"Yes, aren't I?"

"I love that about you." (click) "Wow."

(blink) "Scribe, I haven't seen that much leather since the last time I looked in my own closet."

"Either that's an alternate universe, or I've stumbled over the Annual Castro Street Flaunt Your Fetish Day Parade."

(click)

"Wait just a minute, young lady. You write that down." (scribble) "Thank you."

(shift) "Clive, do you have any, er, necessities at your place?"

(stare) "What sort of necessities, precious? Condoms? Lubes? Caffiene?"

"Feminine necessities?"

"Chocolate?"

"You have chocolate? Good. No, you know, monthly feminite necessities."

"Cosmopolitan?" *snort* "I'm sorry, dear, I couldn't resist. I'm assuming you mean pads. You're usually a straightforward girl. Why on earth can't you call a rag a rag?"

"Blame my mother. Anyway, yes. I was kinda relieved to learn that they didn't have tampax here. Hate the boogers. 'You won't even know they're there'. HAH!"

"Well, pet, you were a virgin, after all. That might make a difference."

"Hm. I always thought that was a myth. Anyway, having to go back to dealing with a belt was bad enough."

"Another reason why I daily thank heaven that I was born male."

"Yep. The drawbacks of the female state can be summed up in three words: menstruation, menopause, and childbirth."

"Well, anyway, if you need the necessities, that must mean that you no longer have to worry about the problem."

"Not necessarily."

"You mean you're not...?"

"It was due today. Though come to think of it, it might be more effective not to have any. That ususally seems to bring it on. Maybe I should go to Lavender's Green tonight and get smashed."

"Dear, if you are 'that way' it would be bad for you."

"Yeah, but if I'm not, and my friend does visit I might as well have a real reason for the bloating, nausea, and aching head."

"No."

"Awe, you're no fun." (stare) "Okay, you are fun, but you're pissing me off here, Clive. Even my mother doesn't try to order me around that much."

"Your mother hasn't possibly fathered a child by you."

"True."

"Why don't you have your feet up when there's a perfectly good stool over here?" (drag)

"Clive..."

(lift, settle) "And you've got to start eating more greens. I want at least four helpings of rabbit food in you each day."

"Clive..."

"And you're going to start drinking more water. Eight glasses a day."

"Jesus, if I am pregnant, my bladder is due to be squashed, and that kind of fluid intake could..."

"No arguements. And you're taking a walk each day. I'm sure Superman could whip up a nice indoor track up here so you could do it around your machine diddling schedule."

"Clive!"

"Yes, pet?"

*sigh* "If I am knocked, you're going to be a Pregnancy Nazi, aren't you?"

"Yes, pet."

'This could present problems, you know. If I show up at home with a bun in the oven, Mom will be overjoyed, but she will find a way back here, and she'll bring handcuffs."

"I like her already."

"Not for fun and games. She'll also bring a shotgun, and possibly a lawyer. Seriously, Clive, how would you feel about it?"

"Thrilled beyond belief, but unless they found a way for back-and-forthing, you wouldn't be going anywhere. You do know that, don't you?"

(smile) "I'd be disappointed if you didn't feel that way. Still, nothing is yet known, so..."

(click)

"What does that headline say, Clive?"

(peer) "It says 'Hot, Hunky, and Hung' is New York Times Best Seller of Decade."

(looks exchanged)

(scribble)