sessifet | Spring cleaning

I've been going through my documents, deciding which to delete and which to keep. I'm happy to report I deleted most of my uni stuff with a contented sigh. I also came across a few things I've written over the years. I looked at most of it, shuddered and firmly pressed 'delete'.

I also came across my plot bunnies document. This was odd. My brain is apparently a very, very weird place with a direct link to alternate universes with no logic resembling the one in this universe. Seriously, I have no other explanation for some of the things in there. Yet again, I shuddered and trimmed. However, the most ludicrous idea I've kept. I remember dreaming and thinking 'Wow, it makes so much sense. I can't wait to start writing.' I look at it now and wonder what the hell my brain was on that night, and where I can get some more. Because it really was a fun dream.

So, imagine a blue fuzzy seven foot alien and his undead teenager sidekick. Together, they fight crime!

Actually, they don't. I'm not sure what they're up to, but they are currently having loads of fun trying to escape from a skyscraper guarded by robots from another planet. (Stop looking at me like that. It made sense at the time.) For some reason, they're after both the blue fuzzy alien and the undead teenager. Her name's Jessie. She's slightly pissed off about that. She thinks that, as an undead teenager, she really should have a more exciting name. The alien's name is John. Don't look at me. He chose it. He seems to think it will help him blend in. I haven't the heart to tell him otherwise.

This idea's been kicking around for some time, and I want to do stuff with it again. I've no idea where the story's going, or why they're in the skyscraper, or why the robots are after them. All I know is that John's searching for something, and while searching for it, he found an undead teenager in the skyscraper. (Don't you just love what the brain gets up to in the middle of the night?)

Oh, and he's developed a fascination with cats. Which led to this conversation:

‘Ooooh! Kitten!’
‘You did not just do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘You squealed.’
‘I did not!’
‘Yes, you did. And I think you scared her.’
‘I did not scare her. And it is a him, if you must know.’
‘How can you tell?’
He raised an eyebrow at her.
‘Oh yes, I forgot. Sorry.’

Your guess is as good as mine, I swear.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to think of a way for John to take the kitten along as they try to escape the hordes of robots out to kill them.