“WHAT IS THIS?!?” The fat, bald man slammed his hand onto his desk. “That BASTARD is alive? HOW?”
“What is it sir?” His female assistant asked, looking up from the notes she was typing.
“You know…. Michael Jackson is ALIVE!” He stood up. “Evidence from surveillance cameras show that he is connected with two of Farrah Fawcett’s doctors. Therefore he knows the truth and her plans. And now it looks like one of them has informed a security team to keep an eye on him so we can’t get him again!”
“And what are you going to do this time?”
“I’m trying to kill Farrah’s doctors! She wouldn’t beat us without them, they give her access to….things…especially that Pakistani or whatever thing and the fat German that both spoil her.”
“Why is Michael Jackson so important then?”
“Because he can tell the whole world about us and everyone will trust him.”
“What are you going to do about him?” she asked, beginning to get annoyed at his obsession with stopping Farrah and her doctors, for she was a supporter of the free market and honestly didn’t care what medicines people wanted in the hospital. She only cared about her own career, not his bullshit, especially as he never gave her the whole story.
“WELL…he is rehearsing today at the…” the fat bastard continued, detailing his backup plan drafted in case his previous one failed. Unfortunately for him, a man with thick glasses was standing outside the door, listening to everything starting with the attempts on his life.
Not so far away this time, Farrah sat on the grass eating pecan pie as Shakira’s phone went off. She and her twin Saghira decided to take Farrah back to Earth for the day, for she had the day off from work and her sister had the day off from college, and they were both close to Farrah. “Salaam aleikum!” she answered. “Dex? You overheard what?” She listened to Dex’s explanation of what he heard, peeved that her day off had been partially ruined by someone’s assassination attempt. On top of this, the twins were meant to meet a mass of extended family for almost a week in Atlantis that night, and foiling the hospital asshole’s plans stood a chance of making them late.
“It looks like we have to save Michael Jackson for a third time.” Shakira rolled her eyes. “He is rehearsing at the Staples Centre and there are assassins meant to arrive soon because he now knows the truth.”
“Why are they so desperate to keep you silent?” Saghira asked. Farrah replied with incomprehensible mumbling on account of her eating pie.
“We could easily take down the pharmaceutical industry, especially with his help, and we are aliens, another government secret.” She reached into her handbag, double checking that her gun was in there. “I am ready when you are.”
For the first time in a long time, Shakira and Saghira decided to park inside an Earth building, among a litany of stage props where the TARDIS would not be noticed. In fact, it looked normal in comparison to some of them.
Farrah poked some of the props, but keeping quiet as Michael was discussing lighting and such with the technicians. “And where did Dex say he was meeting us?”
“Once again the fire stairs”, answered Shakira, annoyed at this constant need to use the fire stairs, every single time. The three silently crept down the stairs, and then Farrah shoved her face up to the space between the door and the wall. “He’s here”, she whispered, as Saghira opened the door.
Dex was not on the same page of keeping quiet. “Hello ladies…”
“Shhhhhh!”
“Okay”, he whispered after the three of them ordered him to be quiet. They climbed the stairs *in silence*, and once they reached the backstage corridors, Dex pointed to Michael’s dressing room, flipping his glasses onto his head and then quickly replacing them after Shakira scowled at him. “They are going to try poisoning him, just in case”, he whispered as Saghira signed this for Shakira, for she could not hear his whispers.
Saghira pointed to the cans of Coke in his room once they arrived at the door. “I suppose it is poisoned?”
“Si, that is what I overheard.” Shakira, Saghira and Farrah then took turns throwing the cans out the window, while Dex listened for any potential interruptions.
“Hey who are those guys?” Farrah asked, pointing out the window to a suspicious looking black van.
“They are not very subtle”, Saghira added. “Are these the assassins?”
Dex slipped over to the window, as the driver and passenger climbed out. “Looks like it, he did say they were coming in a black van and were parking around here where they’d be a little harder to notice.” Shakira removed her gun from her bag, shocking Saghira.
“Sister! You are not going to kill them are you?”
“No these are for stunning, they are not actual bullets.” She fired several shots, hitting both assassins, and then inserted some real bullets and took out two tyres, their windscreen and one rifle, which she almost missed. “They will be out for three hours, and this give us – “
“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????” bellowed a 2 metre high, armed security guard with Michael Jackson trailing behind him.
All four spun around and froze. “TheguysoutsideweregonnakillMichaelsowesavedhim”, Farrah said rapidly and pointed. “Outthere.”
The security guard barged over to the window and looked out at the van and unconscious assassins.
“I did not kill them!” Shakira protested.
“I won’t believe ya until I see for myself”, he sneered, and marched down the fire stairs as it was the nearest exit, while the others followed.
“I told you!” Shakira said as she folded her arms, after the guard had felt the pulses of the assassins still beating.
“We will move them inside and call the police”, he flatly answered.
“What is this?” Saghira used one end of her hijab to pick up a piece of note paper from inside the van, partly to protect herself and partly to prevent her fingerprints from getting all over the potential evidence. She read the note out loud so everyone could hear.
“5891248.”
alteredhistories 