TSIMU = True Story I Made Up
This is a work of absolute fiction. But it totally happened in my brain.
Wil Wheaton** and I were walking down the street one day talking about how unfair a gelatinous cube could be when he stopped dead in his tracks and his mouth fell agape.
I glanced at him quizzically. He pointed and stuttered a few times before choking out “TARDIS*. replica. right. there.” He pointed to my right and I did a double take.
Sure enough, a large blue Police box perched on the corner, a silhouette of a head illuminated through the windows.
“Someone’s in it,” I said. “We should probably keep walking.”
The doors opened and a tall lanky man walked out with floppy black hair.
“Neil Gaiman?!?!” both Wil and I exclaimed.
“You two need to hurry,” he replied. “I’ve been waiting for you. You have a competition to win.”
“Wait, what?” I couldn’t help it. I was flabbergasted. One of my favorite authors stepped out of the blue effing box and told us he was waiting for us.
I looked to Wil to confirm that Neil had indeed gone crazy and felt my blood pressure drop. Wil was wiping tears from his face.
“It’s… real?” he uttered.
“Of course it’s real. Now get in.”
“Where are we headed?” Wil said as he grabbed my wrist and led me into the contraption.
“The eighties.” Neil stepped in behind me.
“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “Um… I know what the TARDIS looks like, but I don’t know what it does. Isn’t it just a prop?”
“How would I have gotten it here?” Neil questioned.
“So you’re telling me that the TARDIS that they use on Dr. Who…” Wil began.
“… is real.” Neil finished.
“How did you get this?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.
“I’ve been writing for Dr. Who,” Neil replied.
“You nicked the TARDIS from set?” I slapped both of my hands to my face and took a deep breath. Telling myself to calm down wasn’t working. I was on the edge of a panic attack.
“Hence the need to leave quickly,” he said as he fiddled with something on the interior of the cabin. “I’m sure there are some security measures they have taken to locate the box once it appears.”
My mouth went dry as this demonic whirring noise starting sounding around me, followed by a sound I can only write down as “pkew pkew”.
“Calm down,” Wil said, patting at his messenger bag. “A good GM never leaves anywhere without his bag of holding. If it’s the eighties we’re headed to, we’re talking Basic Set D&D. 2nd or 3rd edition. We’ll be fine.”
“This isn’t a Dungeons and Dragons competition,” Neil said, a long smile on his face. He handed me a faded newspaper article and I glanced at the headline.
“But… but… but…” I couldn’t help but stutter.
“What is it?” Wil said as I handed him the article.
“I don’t know how to breakdance.”
This concludes Part 1 of Wil and Ali’s Excellent Adventure. Will Wil (heh. that’s fun to write) and Ali prevail? What is on that article? What is in Wil’s bag of holding? Does Ali have a panic attack? Can she master a Pencil Spin? WTF IS a Pencil Spin?
Set your RSS reader to stun, because you will be. Oh, you will be.
* TARDIS is a registered trademark of the BBC. I own no rights to it. Nor do Wil Wheaton and Neil Gaiman, but I’m sure they’d both like one.

** I also own no rights to Wil Wheaton or Neil Gaiman. I do, however, thoroughly enjoy each of their bodies of work. This is a true story that I made up… in this dimension at least.

*** I have also never seen Dr. Who. That’s pretty much the only truth in this little escapade. That, and Wil Wheaton has a bag of holding.
If Wil or Neil happens to catch wind of this, uh… hi guys. It was a writing challenge that I inadvertently gave to myself. If you want me to remove it, I’d happily do so.