FANDOM: Life on Mars
SUMMARY: This is cracking. Oh, no it isn't. (Oh, yes it is…)
RATING: White Cortina (warning: crack)
WORD COUNT: 720 words
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for the 1973flashfic Clothes Challenge. To be frank, just be glad I didn't go with my first thoughts on this one… Unbeta'd, so any concrit will be gratefully received.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
"Ray, why are we doing this again?"
"To cheer up the kids in the home at Christmas, Chris, that's why."
"But, why us?"
"No idea, but I'd hazard a guess that either the Guv, the Boss, or both, have pissed off the Chief Super again."
"That must be about the third time this month. Blimey, these knickers are itchy. And there seems to be some unforeseen movement downstairs."
"You are wearing underpants under those bloomers, aren't you Chris?"
"Er, was I supposed to?"
"Chris, you're a div."
"One word from either of you two ugly sisters and you'll be on traffic duty so fast your heads will spin. Got it?"
"Right. So where's Flash Knickers and the Ponce, then?
"Cartwright and the Boss are still getting ready, Guv."
"Yeah, well you know girls, Guv. They spend ages with their make-up."
"Unlike you two idiots. You two look like you've been in an accident with a paint factory."
"Phyllis said it's dramatic, Guv."
"It's certainly something. Let us hope the kids aren't too scared of you."
"They're supposed to be. At least a little bit. Yours is quite good, Guv."
"Yeah, well. The missus knows a few tricks in that department. And at least there's enough room in this get-up to hold a couple of nips of whisky."
"I thought your corsetry looked a bit odd, Guv."
. . . . . . . . . .
"Ah, Cartwright, you're finally rea. . . . . Bloody hell, woman. Is that legal?"
"The Prince is always played by a woman, Sir. That's what makes it a Pantomime."
"Well, it certainly suits you. Matches your, er, eyes. So, if you're the Prince, I'm really looking forward to seeing Tyler's costume. Speaking of which, where is the picky pain?"
"I've no idea, Sir. He's been very cagey with his costume."
"Right then, we're just waiting for the girl. Are the rest of us ready? Good. I hope you've all learned your lines, but, just in case; and mostly because I found your script, Chris folded into paper aeroplanes halfway down the stairwell; I've typed up fresh copies for you all. Don't lose them again. Ah, there you are, Tyler."
"Er, yes, Guv?"
"And what, exactly, are you wearing?"
"Isn't it a little, masculine, for such a role?"
"I beg your pardon, Guv?"
"I don't seem to remember Cinderella wearing a page's uniform."
"That's because I'm not playing Cinderella, Guv. I'm Buttons."
"You're barking, I know that. Who's Buttons?"
"You know, faithful old Buttons. Companion to the friendless Cinderella?"
"I don't remember him in the original fairy tale."
"Buttons is part narrator, part actor. He directs the rest of the show. That's why I'm playing him. For a start, there's less chance of something else going wrong if I do."
"Okay. So if Cartwright here is the Prince, and you're Barmy, who the bloody hell have we got to play Cinderella?"
"Well, obviously, we had to draft someone in."
"One of the plonks by any chance?"
"Oooh, that little dark-haired minx with the big. . . . . Ow!"
"No. None of the WPCs would willingly appear on stage with the Guv. Something to do with a reluctance to be harassed in public. . . . "
("I notice they don't say anything about being harassed in private.")
". . . . . and Phyllis, of course, is playing the Fairy Godmother."
"Bloody hell, that's enough to give a man nightmares for a month."
"You were saying, Guv?"
"Er, you look cracking, Phyllis. Very, er, glittery."
"Thank you. And you look very... fitting, Guv."
"Who is it, Gladys?"
"Easy, Guv. You'll crease the frogging. And blimey, what the bloody hell did you stuff your brassiere with? You smell like a distillery."
"Oh, Christ, I think one of my flasks has leaked."
"Ah, Dame Hunt. You're such a classy bird. "
"Shut it Gladys, or I'll do more than crease your frogging. . . ."
"Shh. Here comes Cinders."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Well, well. Detective Chief Inspector Litton. Who'd've thought you'd look so convincing in a dress?"
ETA: to make Loz happy(er).