Chapter Text
One thing nobody in the society ever seems to consider, is the amount of work Chris puts into finding the plays. Now, that sounds very hard to believe… especially when you consider their success rate and amount of public complaints the BBC relay onto him. And well he felt after the whole Robert debacle, he’d really rather not talk about it, Chris had been putting in extra effort into finding good short scripts that fit into twenty minutes. Which was… yeah it was a struggle.
Dennis had suggested they do his new play called ‘Price of Petrol’, which was very quickly turned down by awkward mummers throughout most of the cast (Max was very enthusiastic about it, since he was the only one who had read the draft, describing it as “thrilling”, for some reason nobody took him seriously). Trevor had told him not to worry too much about it, because if he looked too hard, he’d probably get even more stressed.
“Look I don’t know why you’re putting so much pressure on yourself about this, I mean there’s something good out there,” Trevor said to Chris who was sitting hunched over Trevor’s laptop, “You want tea?”
“Coffee, thanks.”
“When did you start drinking coffee.” he stood rested against the doorframe, Chris was still scrolling and typing doing god knows what.
“Now and again.”
Trevor just gave Chris a sceptical look, that wasn’t picked up on, and headed next door to watch the kettle boil and watch the sunset through the kitchen window. Just as the kettle finished boiling he heard some weird noises from the other room and then the printer whirring. That's a good sign Trevor thought, as he poured water into Chris’ mug with a peppermint tea bag in it (yeah there was no way that guy needed coffee in his system).
“Something good then?” Chris was standing in the middle of the room reading the pages he held in his hand, Trevor’s laptop on the coffee table.
“Yeah, I found this, it was said to be ‘absolutely magical’ and ‘an immersive experience’ , I’m sure there’s no way we can mess this up.”
“I dunno Chris, I seriously doubt a good script will fix everyone,” He sat on the coffee table, looking up at Chris expectantly, “Go on then, read some and lets see how magical it is.”
“Yeah I will.” he cleared his throat then looked down at the floor for a moment with a solemn look which Trevor had watched too many times to know that he was ‘getting in the zone.’
“ As I travel this mortal realm I find myself stuck and out of place, I wish to return,
To make a bridge to the other side. I will find my way back…
While traversing Land unknown: mountainous rocky or flat,
Traversing Sky: under cloud, moon glow or sun ray.
Or Traversing Sea: stormy, placid or wave, ” Chris paused and looked down at the next bit, and he stabled himself like he was about ot say something incredibly moving, like it was the final act or it just took a lot of energy to say, “ The Gods still uphold the elements, no matter the realm,
Ancestors, be my shield.
And may the good folk point the way.
I believe in the spirits to protect me when leaving, upon arrival and during stay.
Now let the energy take over and bridge me to the other side. ”
Chris stopped, suddenly looking rather pale, Trevor sat holding his sipped tea confused by the whole experience… maybe he should’ve asked Chris about the play in general because-
“What the fuck is that!” Trevor looked behind him to see some weird blue shiny hole … portal ?? behind him, that was his best guess. Upon realising some strange portal just oopened up behind him he jumped up, standing next to Chris who was slowly backing away to the wall.
“Chris what the fuck!”
“I don’t know!!!”
“Should we… throw something in there or something?”
“Trevor…”
“No like it could be one of those hallucination things like when those people in france-”
“Don’t mention those dancing towns in France!”
“They danced until they died Chris!!”
In an act of gay annoyance and fatigued frustration Chris chucked the stack of papers towards the coffee table, like he sort of forgot about the weird rip in the universe sat in his living room just chilling. Well… one of the papers flew a bit loose, Chris really was never one for sports since he got hit in the face with a ball that one time when he was 16… and before that- anyway, a loose piece of paper flew into the portal. Making them both freeze again and stare at each other.
Because really, if there’s a portal, one could only be so sure. After a few seconds of the paper disappearing into the strange void, they loosened up and Chris gained his composure and stood next to Trevor.
“Maybe it’ll go away?” Chris suggested sipping his tea for the first time.
“Should we call someone?”
“Oh yeah I have a top end scientist in my contacts, I’ll just call him then yeah?”
“Why does a scientist have to be a guy…”
“That’s what you’re worried about?!”
“I dunno, Annie sent me this article about inherent misogyny and-” A very loud whirring sound coming from the portal cut Trevor off, continued by the sudden vacuum that seemed to disrupt gravity. The papers that Chris didn’t accidentally throw into the portal started to fly around and eventually into the portal, while the tea in the two’s mugs began to lift out of the cups and into the air around them.
“Trevor…” And then he was dramatically lifted out of the air and dragged into the portal by some invisible force, “Trevor!”
“SHIT CHRIS!” He dove forward in hope to catch Chris or pull him away, but in the moment of panic he forgot he didn’t have anything holding him back, so he slowly got dragged forward as Chris got pulled over the coffee table, knocking Trevor’s laptop off.
“Chris! My laptop!”
“Jesus Christ! Sod your laptop Trevor! Just pull me out of this thing!”
“I’m trying !!” Trevor was slowly draggedin with Chris who’s only part that was still in the living room was Chris’ torso that Trevor was still trying to pull on despite being pulled into the portal alongside Chris.
Ultimately the weird mystical force of the portal got the better of them, yanking Trevor through with the rest of Chris.
As the two fell through the portal closed and everything weirdly floating crashed to the ground, if Chris was around he’d complain that his favourite mug was now broken.