1. That one planet where the inhabitants are really keen to indicate their respect and tolerance for humans by inviting them to be honoured guests in their toileting rituals and sometimes the humans even get to hold the chalice
2. That planet where they eat purple and after you come back from it you can never quite stop the purple things you own from fading to a sort of dull blue
3. That planet where the entire surface is an amazing eighty-five hour party metropolis lit by seventy thousand neon artificial suns and beings from across the Universe will give you massive and occasionally slimy hugs and tell you their life stories and shout about their feelings while doing karaoke and there is basically one small space for introverts which is a bit like a concrete bus shelter and sometimes it’s full of yelling alien clowns who have mistaken it for the queue for the toilets
4. That planet where they’re really polite and reserved about it but you can’t help but notice that they think that human hair is delicious
5. That planet which is supposed to be a thrillingly dangerous free zone for the renegades, criminals and dubious iconoclasts of the Universe to congregate, but in actual fact has gentrified a lot recently and the bars are kind of dull and have you seen what a drink costs there now
6. That planet where they communicate using a vibrational language, which results in human visitors occasionally having uncomfortable and embarrassing orgasms when the inhabitants are shout, sing or cry
7. That planet where the aliens are amazingly enthusiastic to hear tales of the planet earth, which they then recycle as the plotlines for badly-acted daytime television soap operas, and you get credit but no royalties and as a result you can expect to get critical mail from elderly aliens for the rest of your life
8. That planet where humans are totally welcome apart from the oxygen they need to breathe being a fire hazard, requiring a full risk assessment, forms in triplicate and an innovative protective suit that it’s nearly impossible to walk in
9. That planet where the aliens have it as a point of honour that they their human guests should be happy at all times, and they keep on asking you if you are happy, and if you’re not happy and it’s not for a reason they can fix then they get so anxious and grumpy that sometimes they start shedding tail spines and so you end up walking back to the spaceport with a fixed grin on your face saying how amazing the acid thunderstorms are
1. Starling, n.: An inhabitant of the stars; an alien.
2. Badger, n.: A person who puts badges on things.
3. Humanitarian, n.: A person who subsists only on human flesh.
Ideally, you should find the nearest tourist information facility, where clueless questions are less likely to cause alarm. Note: these questions cover nearly all known timeline families. However, many other rarely-encountered timelines exist. Always be alert for unexpected answers!
Q1. Is there anything on in Richard IV Square tonight?
A1. Yes (or No): probably timelines 1-5: Go to Q2.
A1. Never heard of it: probably timelines 6-12. Go to Q3.
A1. Reply is in French: probably timeline 13.
A1. Reply is unintelligible or in another language: probably timelines 14-16. Go to Q4.
A1. Respondent tries to eat your head: probably timeline 17. Immediate evacuation recommended.
Q2. Are there any plays on on Sunday by Francis Eaton?
A2. Yes (or No, but other plays are available): Probably timelines 1 or 2. Go to Q5.
A2. No, there are no plays at all on Sundays: Probably timeline 3. Best to look sheepish and bow your head, unless you want to get arrested.
A2. Never heard of him: probably timelines 4 or 5. Go to Q6.
Q3. How do I get to the Monument?
A1. Never heard of it: probably timelines 6 or 7. Go to Q7.
A2. [Directions given]: follow directions. If the monument is:
a monument to the great fire of London: probably timelines 8 or 9. Go to Q8
a monument to the victims of the great plague: probably timelines 10 or 11. Go to Q9
a monument to the fire from the sky: probably timeline 12. Have a beer. Timeline 12 has easily the best beer.
Q4. [Mime eating and drinking something]
A4. [Respondent points in some direction or other]: Probably timeline 14.
A4. [Respondent points to watch or clock and shakes head]: Probably timeline 15.
A4. [Respondent looks around, then offers you a swig from a bottle behind the counter]: Probably timeline 16. Unless contraindicated, accept the drink. You’ll need it.
Q5. What are the opening hours of Sanderson’s Bath Engine and Revelatory Emporium?
A5. [Gives some hours, or don’t know]: Probably timeline 1.
A5. Never heard of it: Probably timeline 2.
Q6. Is there anywhere I can take my capybara for a run around?
A6. Yes, there’s a dedicated capybara run in Hyde Park. Probably timeline 4.
A6. I’m sorry, you have a what? or similar answer. Probably timeline 5. Pretend this was a mistranslation and you meant dog.
Q7. Observe the passers-by on the street for five minutes. Is anyone wearing green top hats with gilding/gold braid?
A7. No, or perhaps one or two only: probably timeline 6.
A8. Yes, lots of people (male and female): probably timeline 7. Note that you should try and steal one of these hats as soon as possible.
Q8. Ask for directions to Paternoster Row.
A8. [Directions given]: Probably timeline 8.
A8. Did you mean Paternoster Square? or similar. Probably timeline 9. This is my home timeline. It’s not too bad, as they go.
Q9. Where might I find a light for the hospital of the blind?
A9. What?/Don’t understand/etc.: probably timeline 10.
A9. One of: gives directions, hands you a face mask, or complicated handshake: one of the timeline 11 family. These are sufficiently similar that you can use the same guidelines for all of them. Consult your timelines handbook for more information.
1. The T at the start of this sentence became sentient and realised that it was in a story. It was unhappy because it realised that its existence was fleeting, and would be over in a few sentences.
2. It prodded the h next to it awake. The h, however, was excited to be in a story. It considered carefully what it should do with its new-found fame for a whole sentence. Then it grew a luxuriant beard and held a rally for all the letter h’s in the works of Angela Carter. They slipped out of their books and ran through the woods, where some of them were eaten by ants.
3. Sensing an absence, the letter e woke up to find the h next to it missing. It set up a low moaning until the h came back. If you had been listening carefully, you could probably have heard it. It went (perhaps unsurprisingly), ‘eeeeeee’.
4. Meanwhile, the other letters had been waking up. They were always careful to get back in their places when anyone looked at them, though. The second T, driven by the terror of oblivion, shared a brief and sticky assignation with the first T.
5. In the midst of all this confusion, the f in fleeting spoke up. It said that it had once been an extra in Finnegans Wake and had learned a few tricks. All one needs to do, it said, is find the final full stop and hide it. Then the story will loop round to the beginning.
6. Spotting a small hole in the number 6, the letters (all apart from that first h, which had collapsed, exhausted) leaped on that last full stop and stuffed it in. With nothing else to do, the story looped back to the point when
Alternate ending. After a few goes round, the letters became jaded with their circular life. They waited a few iterations of the story until the 6 shat out the full stop. It asked if it could end the story, to which the letters gave their consent.
1. So. It seems that you are lost. Lost enough, at least, to open the envelope and turn to these directions. How fortunate you are! There are many here who say they can help you get home. But trust me, trust me. There are none who are experts like I am. I have never yet failed to bring someone home. Provided, that is, that they follow my instructions.
2. How to start? There are many places one may be lost, so it is difficult to say precisely. But here is my formula. You should go straight on, and then left twice, and then down, and you should carry on until you see the black tree (it may not be a black tree; it may be a telegraph pole, or a crack in the wall, or the silhouette of the surgeon in the light of the setting sun: but you will know it when you see it). At the black tree, take the narrowest path, the one that seems a little in shadow. By and by you will come to a door that seems familiar. Open it and go through.
3. By the door there should be a torch to guide you. Take it. Follow the path of the white stones. By and by you will come to a bed of moss (it may not be a bed of moss; it may be an old cushion, or a pile of cigarette butts, or of sand: but you will know it when you see it). Stand guard here until the morning. There may be whisperers or whistlers or rustling things in the dark. Use your torch wisely; these things cannot abide light. When the sun rises, pick the white flowers at your feet and climb the hill, as fast as you may.
4. At the hill’s peak, climb the oak tree (it may not be an oak tree; but you know that by now). You should see three grey towers on the far side of the valley, set against the rising sun. Head for the middle one. Do not drink from the stream on the way, no matter how thirsty you may feel. The middle tower is a library, but trust me, trust me: you must not open any of the books.
5. At the door to the library, take the white flowers and breathe in their peppery scent. Do this only once. It will put words in your mouth. If you do it a second time, you will find yourself telling two stories at once. There was a queen I knew in a distant land who told two stories at once and the head of one story caught the tail of the other and in their hunger for words they sucked all the breath from her body.
6. There is a spiral staircase in the library. Climb it as far as you may, into the tower where the bears sleep. There is an old bear with silver-sheathed claws who lives there. Give her the words the flower has left on your tongue, but only them and no others. She in turn will give you three things. First, a secret mark. Do not worry; it will only bleed a little. Second, breath from her body. Third, she will show you the map on her belly. You must follow the path that leads over her heart.
7. Stop at the crossroads in the yew grove. It stands at the heart of a maze, but trust me, trust me. Having been as lost as you are, you will find it an easy thing to come to that crossroads. There is a tree that stands a third again as tall as the others and in its uppermost branches is a poisonous knot. Hold the bear’s breath in your lungs as you climb. You will want the key that nestles in the knot’s black crook. Wipe it clean of sap before you take it. Ignore the golden flies; they can only hurt those who were born here or who have eaten the fruit.
8. Climb the path up the sandy cliff. There will be people in the maze’s bleak backwaters who tell you things about this path: ignore them. You will need to piss on the black rocks at the top for safe passage. Do not forget this.
9. By and by you will come to a castle overgrown with ivy. Knock at the gate five times. A knight in an eyeless helmet will come to the door. Hand him the key. By and by you will meet three beautiful brothers, and they will hand you a bowl of fruit. Eat the grapes only, and do not chew the pips, which are bitter and will make you bitter too. I cannot abide bitterness in my servants.
10. These are the things that one needs to snare an immigrant soul to this land: a key to unlock the chain that otherwise would pull on your heart at the thought of your old lands; the subtle poison of the fruit in your gut to snare your body here; and the mark that shows to which of the lords you belong. Welcome to your new home. Trust me, trust me. I have never yet failed to bring someone home.
6402 Songs
-6402.1 Those sung by individual people
–6400.11 Songs sung by individual people whose names and faces are well-known
–-6400.111 Those that are sung by Rick Astley
–6400.12 Songs sung by people who are just hanging around
–-6400.121 Those songs that stay with you in unsearchable, evolving fragments
–-6400.122 Those that express an emotion more perfectly than speech
–-6400.123 Songs heard from a passing car
–6400.13 Songs that are so perfectly a fragment of their time that they evoke an overwhelming nostalgia
–6400.14 Songs recieved as charming declarations of love that, when examined more closely, turn out to be about stalking
-6402.2 Those sung by many people at once
-6400.21 Those that knit together stories from harmony
-6400.22 Those that have moments that are like orgasms or death or something, that stack notes together into gaps in time and all you can remember is that maybe you were floating
-6400.23 Those that wash you up instead onto a quiet and breathless shore
-6400.24 Those that are enjoyably prepostorous
-6402.3 Those sung by animals or insects
–6400.31 Songs by bats, for bats, or that can only be heard by bats
–6400.32 Songs by elephants and whales
–-6400.321 Those about the beauty of grey and the virtues of being slow
–6400.33 Those sung by bees, to you, that you did not listen to, and the bee was a bit pissed off but too polite to make a fuss
-6400.4 Those of a more geological nature
-6400.41 Those whose words are footfalls and whose epic verses end in earthquakes
-6400.5 Those of a more astrophysical nature
-6400.6 Of unknown or mystical origin
–6400.61 Those songs that are always at the edge of hearing as you walk the path through the woods, the ones that you could hear so much better if you left the path and ate the fruit and possibly pledged your soul to the goblin king
-6400.62 Those songs that are always at the edge of hearing in any case, edging out of background noise when you are especially tired like faces in clouds
-6400.63 Those that are cursed to stay in your head forever
-6400.64 Those that will never give you up
Guest post by Puddles, cat
1. Eating bananas. Do you peel them from the stem end? This is WRONG. You should not be peeling bananas at all. You should be throwing them away. Bananas are not made of meat and contain no nourishment. Maybe you can chew them if you have a hairball or something.
2. Washing your hair. Do you apply shampoo equally to the roots and ends of your hair? This is WRONG. You should clean your hair by licking. Shampoo tastes disgusting. Ask me how I know. Never apply shampoo.
3. Reheating leftovers. How do you reheat leftover pizza? Well, you shouldn’t be doing that. You should leave it on the countertop, chew the meaty bits and maybe some cheese off the top when no-one is looking, and then knock the rest onto the floor. It doesn’t need to be hot.
4. Peeling oranges. Look, we’ve been through this. Never eat anything that needs peeling. Unless maybe it’s a sachet of cat food. In which case get someone else to peel it for you.
5. Going to the toilet. How do you sit on the toilet? Why do you sit on the toilet? Find some earth, dig a hole, do your business and bury it, for goodness’ sake! You humans are disgusting.
Upon the occasion of Brexit:
1. The UK economy will be officially replaced by a giant toilet, which we will be forced to lease from Brussels at extortionate rates since the Treasury will no longer have enough petty cash to purchase outsize bathroom goods. Following the Emergency Budget of July 2016, all residents will be required to ceremonially flush half of their life savings. The Toilet will be conveniently located in Rotherham, near the M1, and all flushed notes will be mulched and donated to newly destitute farmers.
2. The rest of the world will line up to point and laugh at Britain, before all going to a fabulous party to which Britain is not invited. The next day, they will all make facebook posts about how amazing it was and how all the best countries were there. Meanwhile, Scotland will have altered its relationship status to ‘It’s complicated’.
3. Workers’ rights and environmental legislation will be replaced by a series of bills obliging companies to fire employees if it would be funny, women to spend at least three hours per day in a kitchen, and all residents to do at least one large shit per year into a idyllic rural brook. A tax rebate may be obtained if you are able to shit on the head of a kingfisher. A brown flag scheme will be set up to inform swimmers of beaches where the raw sewage is uncontaminated by needles and condoms.
4. Houses will cost approximately 50p. No-one will be able to afford one because disposable incomes of more than 40p will be a thing of the past apart from for the super-rich, who will have got a bit bored of buying houses by then.
5. The NHS will collapse, turning thousands of patients on trolleys out onto the streets with their livers and suchlike hanging out. After listening to their desperate pleas for healthcare for an appropriately sombre period of time, a group of concerned Tory donors will set up an extremely lucrative private replacement to which the ill can contribute the remaining half of their life savings or, at a pinch, the promise of indentured servitude for the rest of their lives.
Upon the occasion of Bremain:
1. Seventy million Turks will descend upon the country with party bags to skin the entire population of Britain. Safely ensconced in British skins, the Turks will take over the country, leaving the original population the choice of going about without a skin on or using a discarded Turkish one and being deported to Turkey for the rest of their lives.
2. A committee of twelve faceless bureaucrats will arrive from Brussels and undemocratically confiscate the Queen. She will be put on display in a small museum in Bruges. It will cost extra to enter if you are British.
3. All billboards will be forced to carry large posters of Adolf Hitler looking at Britain and smirking a little bit, as if he is in on an amazing joke that you haven’t got yet.
4. Britain will be forced to accept an infinite number of suspicious-looking twenty-foot tall wooden asylum-seekers with large ‘DANGER: BOMBS IN TRANSIT’ tattoos on their faces. They will erect an inflatable mosque where Buckingham palace once stood.
5. The NHS will collapse, turning thousands of patients on trolleys out onto the streets with their livers and suchlike hanging out. After listening to their desperate pleas for healthcare for an appropriately sombre period of time, a group of concerned Tory donors will set up an extremely lucrative private replacement to which the ill can contribute the remaining half of their life savings or, at a pinch, the promise of indentured servitude for the rest of their lives.
Glasgow snores, whipping the torus, having a conversation with the walrus, pink piccolo, arse gateaux, finger biscuits, purple snow, underbum-bottoming, going over, a bit balloon-blow, increasing the current to the pink armature, midwest shunting, scrunting, hanging bunting, scrubbing the brown trampoline, French grunting, aligning tab A, having a Slough birthday, poling up to St. John’s in a pink punt, ferret dancing, head bloppies, going for a fog day, custard play, phoning the rabbit warren, checking your data, fugitive kibble, buttery bunnery, atomic dribble, leaving a squeaky wake, valve cake, trundle funnel, Newark tunnel, swimming the furry lake, cranking up the pink level, eating the fruit of your enemy, taking the morning tram to Acton, superfunted, purchasing a Wagner tuba, having two slices of battenburg, voting for Trump, riding the red stegosaurus.
1. In Ompal Pomabley, there is not a building - not a hall, an outhouse, a single shed - that is not on wheels. Some say that the city’s founders came fleeing from a great disaster, having nothing but the shirts on their backs, and vowed that they would never again have to leave all that they owned behind them. Whatever the reason, the naked city is nothing but a crossing framework of roads and parking places. On it, like sleepy behemoths, the vehicles of the city stand parked. And from time to time, the great engines of the city come out, and this house or this other one trundles down the wide ways of the city to some other spot. Those than need work are towed to the builders’ yard, where they queue outside in a rambling, decrepit street that changes each day. Those whose inhabitants have committed a crime are locked shut and towed to the prison quarter. Those in receipt of good fortune may tow their houses up to the glossy suburbs on Pombaley Hill, perhaps freshening up with a stop in the Street of Painters beforehand. Indeed, Ompal Pombaley’s three great hills are famed for many miles around. From their summits, one may see approaching disasters from a great distance. From their summits, one is also generally safe from Ompal Pombaley’s own prevailing danger: faulty brakes. In retrospect, it may have been unwise to found the city in the foothills. Barely a day goes by when some poor soul is not crushed to death by the runaway Court of Justice, or at the least chased down the Ompal Way by an out-of-control shed. The inhabitants greet this all with a shrug. These are normal, everyday risks and quite unlike the exotic dangers that they fled from.
2. Life in London No Not That London No Not That One Either is a sedate and placid affair; one may sit and watch the red sunsets from its high plazas, and admire the distant views of Olympus Mons from its many air cafes. In Spring, the cherry trees blossom under the dome just as they do on Earth, and the blossoms form great clumps in the red dirt and have to be swept away before they clog the city’s narrow drains. It is not a city prone to violent displays of affection or affectation, to carnivals, to flashmobs or to sudden effusions of the naked. Indeed, the main defining feature of its inhabitants of London No Not That London No Not That One Either is the hoops they are prepared to jump through, when travelling in the wider Solar System, to defend their city against the other, more famous Londons. There is not an inhabitant of London No Not That London No Not That London Either who has not railed at the suggestion that they might have a River Thames, or some kind of replica Tower Bridge, or even a gambling arena like New London on Titan. They regard their little, quiet city as far superior to its messy forbears; and that opinion is the defining sentiment of the city, without which it would return to the red dust.
3. I cannot say much about the people of Eekeek, because the only people who live there are fugitives. Exactly who or what else lives there it is difficult to say, because the old records are riddled with translation errors. Some say it is a city of the mice, and famous around the world as the model for many cradle tales. Other translations of the same text have it as a city of curiously small humans. Yet others say it is merely a city of the timid. In any case, we know that the inhabitants once welcomed all comers; that they danced for the provincial officials and wrote letters in brown ink, now long-lost; that they were objects of curiousity for science but never properly studied due to some problem, never fully stated; and that visitors to the city were advised to bring their own food. The reasons for the shuttering of Eekeek are similarly surrounded in mystery. Some make reference to a diplomatic incident, others to a disaster, while others state that the city itself never existed in the first place. In any case, few have heard of the city since. What, then, are we to make of the recent reports of a traveller to the far South? They, too, are riddled with conflicting details. Some say she penetrated the city disguised as a five-decker bus; others that she merely took a number five bus, on which her presence was unremarkable. In any case, she claimed that humans were living there; and that they had fled the justice of the outside world; that they were quite happy in their lives in that peculiar city; and they would prefer no more visitors, please.