Slitheen Prequel: The MI5 Girl

Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. Click clack tap click. The keys on the keyboard plunked down hard as they were pressed by the big, squishy fingers of Margaret Blaine. She was writing up her weekly report at 1am, stuffing her face with crisps, the crumbs falling into the gaps between the keys. She rubbed her fingers through her short blonde hair, sweating at the notion of getting this report wrong. It was essential for her to get it right.

She laughed. "Well, it can't be that wrong, y'know. Hah! I'll be just fine." She sighed, getting out of her chair to go get something to eat, wandering through the darkness of her home.

She waddled through her home, licking her lips as she entered the kitchen. She groaned and stretched, smelling the food odour lingering in the air. Opening the fridge with a creak, she pulled out a can of cola, taking a sip as she walked back through the darkness. She... swore she could hear something. The sound of a creaking floorboard, perhaps? Unfortunately for her... she ignored it. As she walked back to her home, she belched from the cola, and giggled... Wait... She didn't giggle. She couldn't make a sound like that, not ever; it was almost... inhuman. It was croaky and sounded off.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

She could hear her heart. It rose, and it felt like it was in her throat. She turned around, only to see a green claw strike her on the forehead, ending her life...

- One Week Later, in 10 Downing Street -

Margaret got up. Before anyone could see her naked, she put on her clothes, climbing inside as a blue light enveloped her. In fact, Margaret /was/ the clothes, for the alien that snuck in her house. The alien was none other than a member of the large, big, green, gassy family known as the Slitheen. It slipped on her skin like a glove, stretching it to her own gigantic Slitheen form, groaning. "It never gets any easier getting into these human skins. They're so... small."

She exited, plodding into the main hall, only to see her two brothers, disguised as Joseph Green and Oliver Charles. She nodded to them, before being talked to by another member of the cabinet.

"I do wonder where the Prime Minister got off too.." The cabinet member said.

"I don't know, all I heard is that he was driven away!" Margret stated, before farting profusely. "BLRRRRTTTTPPRRRTTT!" "Oh, do excuse me," she said, clutching her belly, "I've had a bit of a gas problem lately as you can probably tell... It's going to be the death of me, I swear!" She said, before looking back over at her brothers and smiling, before nodding and exiting the conversation, tugging at her chafing skin suit...