"Introductions"
Two women had just entered the toilets of Cardiff Town Hall.
One was a Welsh reporter named Cathy Salt, who was just looking for a story to print.
The other was the Mayor of Cardiff, Margaret Blaine.
Margaret was trying to get Cathy to her office, but due to stomach problems, she had to enter the toilet to help her problems calm down. Cathy had suggested staying outside, but Margaret wanted her to stay with her, making sure that their interview could go according to plan.
"So, you were saying? These outlandish theories of yours..?" Margaret asked Cathy, as she hurried into the cubicle, shutting the door, so that Cathy would hear her inside, outside the door.
A wet farting noise followed right afterwards. Both women felt embarrassed at what they had to hear.
"Sounds like we got here just in time." Cathy commented, hoping Margaret would reply.
After a few seconds, Margaret replied. "Continue."
"Well, I don't know much about nuclear physics." Cathy started to say, as she explained her findings. "But from what I could make out, Cleaver was saying that the whole project could go up…"
However, inside the cubicle, Margaret, not listening to a word Cathy said, decided to reveal a silver zip in her forehead as she began to pull it to the right of her forehead.
"... worse than Chernobyl."
Blue light filled the cubicle, which was due to the opening of the zip. It regularly flickered around Margaret and the cubicle. Cathy, even from the other side, looking in, noticed.
"Is there something wrong with the lights?" Cathy asked Margaret, who was still pulling the zip. Margaret had to say something, otherwise Cathy would ruin the whole process.
"Oh, they're always on the blink. I can't tell you how many memos I've sent." Margaret told Cathy, whilst continuing to operate the zip in her forehead. She then closed her eyes and hoped for the best, before saying. "So, Chernobyl…"
"Apparently. But a thousand times worse." Cathy said on the other side.
Margaret's face then became lifeless. She was no longer alive in a sort of state as the zip reached through the back of head and then back to her front. With this in mind, her left hand opened her forehead up, which she placed behind her head.
She placed both hands at the top of her face as she would begin to drag it down as another face, green, slimy and with two black eyes would be unveiled as Margaret would continue to drag. The blue lights in the cubicle continued to flicker, only now they would be revealed as electricity that would cover the top of the lifeless, human head.
The green head would escape, revealing its full length as its neck would extend upwards, also revealing a brace on the neck. It gasped for air.
The hands would continue to drag the face down, until the arms would stop themselves, as greener arms would take their place, with claws also taken out at the same time.
Margaret would be squeezed as the other occupant would see it take its place over the Mayor. It slipped downwards as Margaret listened to Cathy on the other side of the door.
"I know it sounds absurd, there must be so many safety regulations. But Cleaver seemed to be talking about a nuclear holocaust. He almost made it sound deliberate."
After listening to her ramble on about a dead person for so long. The occupant would thrust itself upwards as Margaret slided all the way down to the floor.
"I mean, we're hardly the Sunday Times, it's only the Cardiff Gazette, but we have a duty to report the facts."
Margaret was now on the floor, laid out as the other occupant bent down to grab her from the floor.
"And you're going to print this information?" The green occupant spoke, with the warbled voice of Margaret Blaine.
Cathy was a little alarmed, what happened to Margaret? Blue lights and then her voice was slightly different? Something was peculiar, but she just wanted to make sure the Lord Mayor was okay.
"Are you alright? You sound a bit..." She said.
"Sore throat." The occupant spoke, with the same warbled voice. She coughs slightly, whilst putting Margaret up on a peg. "Just a little tickle."
"But tell me, do you intend to make this information public?" It asked Cathy.
"I have to." Cathy told it plainly.
"So be it." The occupant said, quietly in a menacing manner as it raised a claw, ready to push the door open.
"Mind you, my boyfriend thinks I'm mad." Cathy said to the occupant, whilst walking towards the toilet sinks.
The occupant lowered its claw, and decided to listen in..
"We're getting married next month. And he says if I cause a fuss, I could lose my job. Just when we need the money..." Cathy explained, as she checked her reflection in the mirror.
"... Boyfriend?" The occupant asked Cathy.
"Jeffery. Civil Servant. He's nothing exciting, but he's mine." Cathy told it, smiling as she explained to "Margaret" about her fiance.
"When's the wedding?" "Margaret" asked, curious.
"The nineteenth. It's really just to stop my mother from nagging, but the baby sort of clinched it, I suppose." Cathy explained, as she turned away from the mirror and towards Margaret.
"Margaret", on hearing the fact that Cathy had a child on the way, decided to slowly sit down on the toilet. "You're with... child?"
"Three months. It's not showing yet. Wasn't planned. It was an accident." Cathy told her, smiling as she remembered her 'accident'. "Nice accident, though."
"Congratulations." "Margaret" commented.
"Thank you." Cathy said, before asking, "How about you? You got any kids?"
"No..." "Margaret" said plainly.
"Is there a Mr Blaine?"
"Not anymore. I'm all on my own." Margaret said, her voice starting to tremble as she told Cathy, before going to explain. "I had quite a sizable family, once upon a time, wonderful brothers. Oh, they were bold. But all of them are gone now. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm cursed."
"No, no... I don't think so. Not really." Cathy disagreed, consolingly to help "Margaret".
"You're very kind." "Margaret" said, before thinking of a new idea. "Um... could you come in here? I just... want to tell you something."
Cathy, obviously wanting to help, came closer, towards the door. She knocked on it. "Are you decent?"
"Decent as I could be, Miss Salt." "Margaret" said, as Cathy slowly opened the door.
She then gasped in fear. All these images were traveling through her mind at such a fast rate. The Lord Mayor, skinned and on a peg and an alien, sitting on a toilet, with green skin and large claws!
"What the...? What the?" Cathy kept saying, as she began to breathe in fast motions as she stumbled back slightly.
"Cathy. Cathy. Cathy." "Margaret" told her. "It's me. Miss Blaine."
"But you can't be! You're an alien! And you've skinned the Mayor!" Cathy exclaimed at Margaret, who was acting calmly at everything that was going on.
"If you calm down, Cathy. I will explain everything." Margaret said as Cathy, slowly but surely calmed down. "Feeling better yet, Miss Salt?"
Cathy was getting there. Until she breathed in and then breathed out. She allowed herself to get back to normal.
"Yeah. Sorry." She apologized.
"It's fine. Trust me. I've had many reactions to myself before this and surely, you haven't been the worst." Margaret told her.
"Really? Who was the worst?" Cathy jokingly asked.
"When I became Lord Mayor. I had a maid, first week. She... accidentally saw me out of hours and well, let me just say that I have never heard someone scream so much without taking a breath." Margaret explained, smiling as she did.
Cathy chuckled a little. But she was still a little amazed at the fact that this alien was talking to her, speaking English, in the same voice of the Lord Mayor. It was like something out of a nightmare.
"You said you would explain everything." Cathy said. "If... say I didn't note any of this down to the interview. Would you tell me?"
"Yes. I don't think your readers would begin to believe that their Lord Mayor would actually be an alien living on Earth." Margaret said to her. "So, what do you want to know?"
"Um. I guess what alien are you?" Cathy asked, going to the first question she had in her mind.
"I am a member of the family Slitheen." Margaret started to explain. "I come from a planet. Raxacoricofallapatorius."
"Raxacoricofallapatorius?" Cathy interrupted, asking for how the planet would be pronounced.
"Yes. You said it perfectly." Margaret commented.
"Well. Born in Wales, we have a lot of big place names that just confuse everyone. Best to remember some of them, so a place like Raxacoricofallapatroius is sort of easy when you come to think of it." Cathy told her, before thinking of another question. "What's your real name then?"
"Blon. Blon Fel Fotch Passameer Day Slitheen." Margaret/Blon revealed. "But if you want, you can continue to call me Margaret or Miss Blaine if you want."
"Yes. I'll stick to Margaret. I don't want to reveal your real self, do I?" Cathy said, with Blon agreeing. She then looked at the skin-suit. "So, is the real Margaret dead?"
"Yes. She died seven or eight months ago." Blon noted. "I can't quite remember when though."
"It's fine. I don't want to know. But how does it work? Talking through her mouth?" Cathy asked.
"Easy. I compress down into her, and so my head basically fits to hers. If I were to speak through her mouth, I would actually be speaking through my one." Blon explained. "The only problem is, the eyes. Human eyes are so small compared to my eyes, so I sort of have better and worse vision at the same time."
"I see." Cathy joked, before chuckling a little. "Did you really need to come in here?"
"Yes. There's a thing I have. It's called gas exchange. You might call it 'farting'. Basically, after a long time stuck in the suit. It compresses the air and I have to let it out. It's useless, but I have to go through it." Blon explains.
Cathy could not think of any other questions to ask Blon.
"I think that's about it. Thanks for explaining, Miss Blaine." Cathy told her. "Do you need your privacy to put her back on?"
"Yes. I think it would be wise. Unless you want to know." Margaret said.
"No thanks. I think I can guess how it happens anyways." Cathy told her, as she walked back to the bathroom area, closing the door.
She would hear Blon/Margaret taking the skinsuit, putting it back on and zipping everything back up. Margaret would take a breath before another wet fart would emit.
Margaret then opened the cubicle door, with Cathy just looking at the door.
"Sorry. Better you know now." Margaret told her as Cathy would get her bag from the sinks.
"Yeah. I suppose so." Cathy said, before giving Margaret a business card. "Here, I'll leave my details with you. And don't worry. I won't say or print a word."
"But you are printing this interview." Margaret asked, just in case Cathy wouldn't follow up on her word.
"Yes. But I'll write something to make up for the lack of an ending." Cathy told her. Margaret nodded in agreement. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll just head back to work now."
"Of course. I'll make sure to read the interview when I have some time." Margaret told her as Cathy started to walk away from Margaret.
She then turned around. "Thanks."
Before turning around again to walk out as she opened the door to walk back down the corridor, towards the exit.
"Sometimes. You let one go." Margaret told herself, smiling a little to herself.
She finally left the bathroom, now with a new idea on her mind.
Later, Cathy was at the dinner table, with her fiance.
"So, anything interesting happen today?" Jeffrey asked, whilst eating.
Cathy wanted to say everything. She had met an alien. She knew another side to the Lord Mayor. She finally could finally answer the question of is there life outside this own Earth. She learnt the brand new word of Raxacoricofallapatorious.
But she made a promise.
"Not much. Went to see the Mayor. Wrote my interview about her. Had a lot to say. How's... the wedding plans? They looking good? My mother's still not nagging us to get married earlier, is she?" Cathy lied.
"Yup. Looking all good. We'll begin our lives on November 19th." Jeffrey told her, as he smiled at her. She smiled, although it was slightly fake at the same time. She just kept thinking about Margaret and Blon and how her whole life has changed in some ways.
This was something that never escaped her mind, even as she came to bed later that night. The last thing she thought before heading to sleep was what would be Margaret's sleep schedule and if she would sleep at all. That should have been her last question in the toilets, "Do you ever sleep?"
Meanwhile, in a different house to Cathy's.
"Yes, we like your shots, Mr Birch. We would like to continue to have you on for The Western Mail. Be here tomorrow." A representative said on the phone.
"Um. Thank you." Mr Birch said. "I'll be there tomorrow. I promise."
The phone clicks off. He is happy.
Upstairs, however, something occurs as a blue light appears upstairs.
"What the?" Mr Birch asks himself, as he walks towards the stairs.
As he walks to the stairs, he starts hearing other sounds.
"Sounds like it's coming from the bathroom."
He walked up the stairs as the noises stopped. He reached the landing as he would wait for whatever was making the noise to come out.
"Hello? Who's there?"
It pounced and sliced Mr Birch up into pieces as he screamed his last.
Someone went downstairs, as they picked up the phone and called up the prior contact at The Western Mail.
"Hello?"
"Yes, hello. It's me again. I've changed my mind. I won't be coming back tomorrow at all. I've had a change of mind." Mr Birch told them.
"Oh right. Well, thank you for your work, Mr Birch. You've been the most helpful. I hope you do well in your future career."
The phone conversation ended.
"I'm pretty sure he will."
Mr Birch groaned in displeasure, as he began to laugh while unzipping his forehead.
For Margaret, this was her answer to Cathy's question. "Does she ever sleep at night?"
The answer...? No.