The dark and stormy night became a grey and dreary morning. Sonson woke up, took one look out of the window, and decided it was a good day for a lie in. Fizban woke up, growled, payed no attention to the world around him, and came to the same decision as Sonson.
  "Cock! A Doodling Doo!" yelled the bonsai tree from its table in the corner.
  "Morning bonsai," Sonson replied, doing her best to sound cheerful.
  "Fizban must waking! Like a rise and shine!" the tree chirped.
  "Oh piss off," Fizban said grumpily.
  Obligingly, the bonsai tree vanished, leaving a small cloud of green smoke behind.
  "Fizban," Sonson said, concerned.
  "Yes?" Fizban asked, finally reaching the level of conciousness required for simple conversation.
  "The bonsai tree just vanished."
  "That's nice dear," Fizban replied, before vanishing in a similar cloud of smoke, only bigger this time.
  Sonson shivered, noticing the potential for a pattern to develop here. When after a few seconds she failed to vanish herself, she allowed herself a brief wail. "Fizban!"
  There was what could only be described as the opposite of a puff of green smoke, and a small and slightly crumpled piece of paper appeared on the bed next to her. She read it quickly.

  "You know what I think's really unfair?" the mouse said.
  "No," replied its mate. "Go on."
  The mouse sighed. "This is the third story we've been in and we still haven't been named yet."
  "We're mice," its mate said matter-of-factly. "We don't have names. Not ones that could be written on paper as anything more than 'Squeak', anyway."
  "But we should have names. It's only polite."
  "What do you think we should be called? Samson and Delilah?"
  The mouse broke into song. "My, my, my, Delilah! Why? Why? Why? Delilah!"
  "Perhaps not then," its mate said, unimpressed.
  "Mulder and Scully?" the mouse asked hopefully.
  "No chance. Bonnie and Clyde?"
  "I'm a rodent, not a simian. Lois and Clark?"
  "That's just so 1994. Forget it."
  "There must be something we can both agree on," insisted the mouse.
  "John and Delenn?" its mate offered.
  "No, that's just another excuse for a B5 reference."
  "Tom and Geri?"
  "Meow," the mouse said drily.
  "Hey! What about Beren and Luthien?"
  "That's a bit obscure, isn't it?" asked the mouse. "Bit on the hippy side too."
  "But its so timeless," its mate said wistfully. "Almost like Romeo and Juliet, only not quite as twee."
  "OK, you've sold it to me. Which one am I then?" asked the mouse.
  "You're Beren, silly," said Luthien.
  "Ah," said Beren. "I feel better already."

  "You notice anything odd, Larkin?" Sonson said curiously to the small bear, who was currently perched on her shoulder.
  Not particularly. It's a nice peaceful day, the bear replied.
  "Exactly," Sonson said in what she hoped was a hushed conspiratorial voice. "It's rush hour on a Wednesday, and there's almost no traffic around."
  So? Maybe everyone went to work early.
  "Hyeah right. Something is definitely amiss here."
  What are you going to do? Lead a crusade against mid-week tardiness?
  "Sarcasm doesn't suit you Larkin," Sonson said sternly. "You look far too cute for it."
  Larkin's head turned to give Sonson's ear a hard stare. When she turned to face him she smirked. "Trying to look cross just makes you look cuter."
  Keep it up and I'll sing that song in your head.
  "Don't you dare," Sonson hissed. When Larkin didn't she continued more calmly. "Look, there are a few cars around, but not many. And it's not just the road that goes by outside, by the look of it. Seems to be the same off in the distance."
  What's your point?
  "The point is, I think it'd be good to investigate this further afield."
  Larkin frowned, or at least, he tried too. Whilst being excellent at staring, he found other facial expressions nigh on impossible. How much further?
  "Well, Cambridge would be the obvious place," Sonson said, wandering into her study and booting up her computer. It was a much more restrained affair than the computer in Fizban's study, which she thought would look more at home in a place like the Batcave. In her opinion, computers were just for playing card games, no more. Any other capabilities - such as the ability to do word processing or contact other computers - were just a bonus. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures. Sonson sent a talk signal to Mnemosyne and waited patiently for her to respond.

  "Here's a question for you," Beren said to Luthien.
  "Oh yes?"
  "It's a Wednesday right, and its the rush hour. How come Sonson isn't going to work?"
  "Oh that's simple," Luthien explained. "She gets special dispensation to take time off whenever she's in a story. Note from the author and all that."
  "Cushy arrangement."
  "Tell me about it."
  "Well..." Beren began.

  Sonson was in the middle of a particularly taxing game of FreeCell when Ariadne called back. "Okay, hang on," she muttered to the computer as it beeped at her. She carried on rearranging the playing cards on the screen.
  The computer beeped insistently.
  "Give me a minute," Sonson growled, "I'm in the middle of a game!"
  It can't hear you, you know Larkin commented. Neither can Ariadne, for that matter.
  "But I'm in the middle of a game!" Sonson insisted.
  Just answer the call, and stop making a fuss.

  It was almost midday by the time Sonson made it to the secret cave beneath Cannock Chase. To the untrained eye it looked like any other top secret helicopter hideout - the usual landing area at the base of a wide natural chimney in the rock. This being the middle of England and not the Grand Canyon, the chimney was artificial. However, there were only three people in the world who would have been able to tell the difference, and all of them were safely out of the area.
  Impressive, Larkin said as he saw the helicopter. What's it called? Black Thunder? Blue Lightning?
  "SkyFox," Sonson said proudly.
  OK, so I missed one.
  "We don't really have time to banter," Sonson commented as she carried Larkin over to the helicopter. To his horror the tiny flight suit she had dressed him in made him look endearingly cute. She deposited him on top of the co-pilots console and strapped herself into the pilots seat. "OK, fuel?"
  Larkin hesitated, then looked at the readouts in front of him as he realised what was expected of him. Check.
  "Power?"
  Check.
  "Top Secret Weapons Systems?"
  Check.
  "Emergency Chocolate Supply?"
  Check.
  "Cool. Let's get going then." Sonson reached up and pressed a button in the cockpit ceiling. "Ariadne, are you there?"
  "Here and ready. I've just got one question."
  "Yes?"
  "Who's paying for this phone call?"
  What? Larkin butted in.
  "We're talking to her by cellphone," Sonson whispered to him. "I forget whose name the account is in," she said out loud, "but I think its the sort of question that's best left unanswered."
  "Ah," Ariadne said knowingly, "One of those."
  "Here we go," said Sonson. She pressed several buttons directly in front of her and the engines started up.
  As the helicopter lifted into the open air Ariadne spoke again. "How long will it take you to get to Brazil?"
  "Well," Sonson explained, "This baby's capable of doing Mach Ridiculous for short bursts of time, but her cruising speed is Mach Slightly-Silly. I'd guess about an hour."
  "You fly a helicopter faster than sound and the propellers don't snap off?" Ariadne asked, incredulous.
  "Yeah, this is a top secret helicopter, don't forget." Sonson pressed the big red button on the side of the joystick and the helicopter shot forward at what was surely an impossible speed.
  Fucking Hell! Larkin exclaimed as the acceleration threw him against the back of the cockpit. At least, I believe that is the most appropriate phrase at this point.
  "Gnnnnbbbbbbb" Sonson replied, as the same g-force that was pinning her to the pilots seat did some quite yucky looking things to her mouth that prevented her from saying much else.
  Once the helicopter reached cruising speed and the acceleration stopped, Ariadne cut in again. "Sonson," she asked carefully, "Please tell me that you didn't just accelerate way beyond the speed of sound whilst pointing in the direction of Birmingham?"
  "I think I must've," Sonson replied. "That blur beneath us certainly had some resemblance to Birmingham. Why do you ask?"
  "Don't you know what sonic booms do to glass? Have you any idea how many windows there are in the city of Birmingham?"
  "No. But I get the feeling you're about to tell me."
  "I think checking up with a few insurance companies in two or three weeks time should get you a reasonably accurate total."
  "So I've just broken lots of glass?" Sonson asked, somewhat hesitantly.
  "Lots doesn't even begin to cover it." Ariadne replied sternly.
  "Does this mean that the lens of the speed camera that flashed us would've shattered?"
  "Sonson, you were accelerating at a rate I don't even want to think about, how the hell did you manage to spot a speed camera flashing you?"
  "Well, you've got to be able to spot these things, haven't you?"
  The only reply was what sounded like an exasperated sigh.

  In just under an hour they were fast approaching the Brazilian Coast. What are you gonna do if the Brazilian Air Force send planes up after us? Larkin asked Sonson with a touch of concern.
  "Wave to them as we fly past."
  But don't we have lots of funky weapons? Can't we shoot them down?"
  "Why would I want to do that? Think of the pilots' families! Besides, it shouldn't be a problem, most of them should be in trances like everyone else."
  "Sonson," Ariadne interrupted, "You may have a problem."
  "What sort of problem? Anything this helicopter can't handle?"
  "You tell me. I just found Rarrr! Enterprises' website. There's a webcam from which several anti-aircraft placements can be seen."
  "OK," Sonson said thoughtfully, "What sort of armaments? Laser guided or heat-seekers?"
  "How should I know?"
  "Doesn't it say on the side of the missiles?"
  "That's ridiculous, why would... Hang on, yes, it does say. Both."
  "Right, Larkin, deploy the glitterball and prime the vindaloo launchers."
  Saturday Night Fever meets Red Dwarf. Cunning. Larkin muttered as he carried out his orders.
  "Shhh," Sonson said, "I need to time this right."
  Time what right? Should I be worried?
  "Handbrake turn," Sonson explained, pulling the lever next to her up hard. There was a series of unpleasant bumps as the contents of the cockpit rearranged themselves fairly thoroughly. The helicopter spun round and came to a sudden halt above the middle of the Brazilian landscape.
  A variety of missiles rose up from poorly disguised installations on all sides and headed for the helicopter.
  "Let's see how many of those are heat seekers." Sonson said, trying to sound calm when in fact she was panicking like buggery. "Launch Vindaloos".
  Vindaloos launched.
  Seven of the missiles arced away from the helicopter and lunged towards the globules of curry it had ejected. In accordance with the rules of flukey synchronicity all seven converged on the curry at the same instance and blew each other up. That left two missiles.
  "OK," Sonson said, trying to hide the relief, "Let's deal with the other two. Swing the glitterball."
  Glitterball swinging. Did you bring your handbag? You could dance round it. Despite the fact that Larkin's words were reaching her telepathically, Sonson could sense the dryness in his tone.
  The laser beams that were guiding the remaining two missiles were scattered by the glitterball, leaving both hanging in the air for a second rather confused. Convinced that there was no way in hell they'd be able to find their targets now, both rockets exploded in mid-air out of sheer exasperation.
  "Ariadne?" Sonson called.
  There was no answer.
  "Ariadne!" Sonson shouted. "She's gone into a coffee trance hasn't she? Shit!"
  No, we just lost the signal. I guess the reception is too poor here.
  "Bugger. I knew we should've signed up with a different network. Oh well, we're on our own. Time to get rid of the offending coffee crop I think."
  How are you going to do that? Are you going to use one of the built-in secret weapons? Larkin asked excitedly.
  "That's right," Sonson replied, grinning.
  What does it do? Burn the crop to the ground? Make it instaneously wither and die?
  "Even better than that."
  Better than that? Larkin asked, impressed. Come on, tell me! What does it do?
  "Mows it," Sonson said proudly.
  WHAT? Larkin screeched in her mind, incredulous.
  "It mows it. You know, cuts it down. Good eh?"
  So I'm sat in a glorified hover mower? If the other bears find out I'll never live this down.
  "Don't be such a baby. It's fast, effective, and environmentally sound."
  Unlike flying over a heavily populated area at Mach Stupid.
  Sonson shrugged. "That's still fast and effective. Deploy the mower blades."
  Terrific. Mower blades deploying. All of a sudden Larkin reminded Sonson of Jack Dee.
  "Okay!" Sonson said enthusiastically. "Let's get mowing."
  As she gleefully flew the helicopter up and down, cutting down the modified coffee plants, a harsh voice cut in, blaring out of the cockpit speaker. "I am Rarrr! from the Planet Zarg. You will desist and leave my airspace at once. Failure to comply will result in your interception by my battle squadron."
  He's bluffing, Larkin stated confidently. He doesn't have a battle squadron.
  "Rarrr! from the Planet Zarg," Sonson said in a business-like voice as she switched on her microphone. "I have reason to believe you are talking out of your arse."
  "Of course I am. As I said, I am from the Planet Zarg. My anatomy differs greatly from your own."
  "Ewwwww!" Sonson exclaimed. Her response was echoed in her mind by Larkin.
  Keep him talking, you'll have it all mown before he gets round to doing anything.
  "I thought you said he was bluffing," Sonson whispered.
  Doesn't hurt to cover all the options.
  "What I meant to say," Sonson said into the mike, "was that you must be taking the piss."
  "Well yes, I need sustenance as much as the next being."
  "Gross!" Sonson blurted.
  Don't
  "Don't what?" Sonson asked quietly.
  Don't tell him you think he's full of shit. I really don't need to hear his answer to that.
  Sonson flipped the aircraft onto autopilot and grabbed for the inflight sick-bag.
  "Well," Sonson said aloud a moment later, wiping her mouth, "I think you're bluffing. You don't have a battle squadron."
  "YOU WOULD DARE TO CALL ME A LIAR?" the alien's voice screamed through the speaker.
  Uh-oh, now you've really pissed him off.
  "Not only a liar," Sonson said, talking controls of the helicopter again and guiding it along the last stretch of coffee plants needing to be mowed, "but a silly little rocky alien with ugly weedy bits!"
  "I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS INSULT! LAUNCH BATTLE SQUADRON!" Rarrr! roared.
  Bugger. He wasn't bluffing.
  "Well, I've finished mowing," Sonson muttered. "Guess I'm free to face this 'battle squadron' then."
  A large hole opened up in the ground, roughly in the centre of the ex-coffee plantation. What looked like a number of small pebbles floated up out of the hole and rushed towards the helicopter.
  "That's your battle squadron?" Sonson laughed into the microphone. "What's it going to do, shoot peas at us?"
  The pebbles swarmed round the helicopter. Once they surrounded it each shot a blue ray towards it. The aircraft was soon enveloped in an eerie blue glow.
  "OK, so they're flying pebbles equipped with tractor beams. Ridiculous idea if you ask me."
  Oh, and a hover-mower than can break the sound barrier isn't? Larkin mumbled mentally.
  Sonson grunted and shut down the helicopters engines as it was dragged down towards the ground.
  We need a plan Larkin stated as the helicopter touched down.
  "Shhhh," Sonson whispered. "I'm thinking."
  I'll get a fire extinguisher ready shall I?
  "That won't be necessary," Sonson said sternly, picking Larkin up and placing him on her shoulder. "I've got it sorted." She pulled off her pilot's helmet and climbed out of the helicopter. Once on the ground she flipped open a flap in the side of the aircraft and pulled out a small non-descript box.
  There was a loud roar as Rarrr! emerged from the hole in the ground. The alien was indeed, as Ariadne had described, just like a large boulder covered in seaweed. Various cracks in the stone opened and closed as it spoke. "You insulted me! You must face the consequences!"
  Typical megalomaniac, Larkin commented silently. So fixated on its own self-image it's actually forgotten it's in the middle of trying to take over the world.
  "Yeah, whatever," Sonson said, staring Rarrr! in what she hoped was its face. "I'm happy to face the consequences if you are."
  "What do you mean?" Rarrr! asked, somewhat surprised. "What consequences are there for me to face?"
  "Using an addictive substance to try and enslave a world." Sonson said, hoping that it sounded like she was reading out a list of charges. "Attempting to use sales of said substance to overwhelm the hot beverage market of said world. Using unlicensed mind-control technology in conjunction with said substance. Shall I go on?"
  "What are you going to do?" Rarrr! laughed. "Lock me away? I control the majority of your planet's population. There is nothing you can do to stand against me."
  He's got a point. Larkin commented.
  "I beg to differ," Sonson said firmly. She waved the box she was holding at Rarrr! "Do you know what this is?" she asked it.
  "It's part of your aircraft. I saw you remove it."
  "That's right." Sonson said, gathering verbal momentum as phrases arranged themselves in her head. "But did you realise that in addition to its mowing capabilities this helicopter is also able to perform open-cast mining?"
  "You insult my intelligence with such petty jokes," Rarrr! replied, somewhat irritated.
  "The point is," Sonson explained, "that in order to do open-cast mining the helicopter used ultrasonics to pulverise the rock. This little box here," she waved it in front of him again, "is the parasonic resonance capacitor."
  Somehow, Rarrr! managed to blink despite not having any eyes, let alone eyelids.
  "All I need to do is short out these two wires," Sonson continued, "And an ultrasonic beam will pulverise you, leaving nothing but a small and pathetic pile of dust."
  "You expect me to believe you?" Rarrr! asked.
  "More than that," Sonson replied. "I expect you to switch off your mind control device and leave this planet, permanently. If you do not, I will pulverise you, without hesitation."
  "You're bluffing," Rarrr! insisted.
  "Do you really want to risk that?" Sonson stood her ground.
  The rocky surface of the alien went through a number of grotesque contortions as it struggled with it's current situation. "No," it said finally. Hastily it retreated into the hole it had emerged from.
  You were bluffing, weren't you? Larkin asked eagerly. Please tell me you just bluffed out an extraterrestrial, that would be so cool.
  The ground rumbled ominously, and the spacecraft Rarrr! had come to Earth in shot into the sky like a bullet.
  "Of course I was bluffing," Sonson replied. "You didn't really think this weeny little box could pulverise rock, did you?" She waved it at a rockface on the edge of the plantation. "As if. Look, it does nothing." She touched the two wires together. There was a loud cracking noise, and the rockface collapsed in an avalanch of dust.
  Larkin stared at the damage. Knew you couldn't have been bluffing, he said.
  "Shit!" Sonson exclaimed. "I never knew it could really do that. It said in the sales brochure it was just a bluffing tool."
  It started too big, you know. Larkin rambled, totally ignoring what Sonson had said. Trying to take over the whole world at once never works. People notice. If it'd have started small, with a village or two, then moved onto a town, and so on, it could've taken the whole planet by Christmas and we never would've noticed.
  "Yes Larkin," Sonson said patronisingly, not knowing what else to say. "Shouldn't we be getting back? Before everyone comes out of their trances and realises what's happened to Birmingham?"
  I said, didn't I? Larkin continued, in a world of his own, The important thing to know if you want to rule the world is when to stop. Rarrr! didn't know when to stop. Whole world at once! Ha! As if!
  Sonson sighed and carried Larkin back to the helicopter.