fandomhigh | Galactic Vacationing

"Right! So. Wasn't here last week, was I? I'm sure the TA," he gave Seely a look that had a barely restrained eyeroll accompanying it, "kept you all busy in my absence. Got off to a slow start, which is sometimes a good thing when you're bouncing around the known universe." Why yes, he was being a big hypocrite. He seemed to know it to some degree too, because he was getting uncomfortable. "And, well, let's not even get started on the unknown universe. Anyway! Moving on. Let's go somewhere different."

The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the Danger Shop controls and, although it could be said that the Danger Shop was somewhat disgruntled by being messed with by a sonic device (which wasn't in any way important for next week's workshop), it complied and their surroundings changed.

"Welcome to the year 200,100. We're not too far from home, a little step out and away from the planet Earth, which is just down there. You can probably find an observation deck if you look hard enough. This is Satellite 5, the largest communications station in the solar system, if I remember rightly. I usually do. Take a look around. Get something to eat. Mingle." He scratched behind his ear and tried not to look too pleased at throwing them into the thick of it, "I'd watch out for some of those rooms though. You might find yourself facing a fate worse than death. Well, not death." He paused and looked upward in thought. "No, on second thought, worse than death. Definitely."

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"No, I really know what I'm doing. This is just an aberration," she said, backing up, hands raised. "What's a defabricator?"

"This is the defabricator. It does what it says on the label. We'll get rid of those clothes and start with a clean slate."

"Can't you just trust that I chose these clothes with a specific purpose in mind and that I wouldn't be wearing them otherwise?" She asked hopefully, not quite sure what a clean slate might entail here.

"Well, we could, but then we wouldn't be very good fashion show hosts."

"Fine, let her keep her clothes. Let's start deeper anyway."

"Oh yes. The skin definitely has to go. Strip it back to the bone and start from scratch."

"WHAT?" Inara backed further away from the robots and began looking for some kind of weapon or an exit or anything to help her out here.

Their arms turned into rather sharp hedge clippers and chainsaws. "Don't make a fuss, darling, it'll be over before you know it. Do it for the fashion!"

"It'll be simply outrageous."

"Fashion is fleeting, but good skin is forever," Inara argued, running so a table was between her and the robots. "You'd be destroying a masterpiece."

She decided now was not the time for modesty.

There was a noise at the door and it slid open. The Doctor poked his head in. "Hello. What's going on here then?"

The robots stopped what they were doing to critique the Doctor's outfit.

"Doctor!" It was possible she'd never been so relieved to see anyone in her entire life, and she tried to run to him (and the door) while the robots were distracted. "Run! They want to cut my skin off for fashion!"

The robots were caught up in their fashion talk. "So do people in this century. It's called plastic surgery. Funny how some things don't change even 198,000 years in the future."

"I like it where it is, thank you," she hissed in a whisper, edging behind him. "Plastic surgery is just...barbaric."

"Well, yes, but for us. You and me and most of the sane universe. For them it's entertainment and for the Genfaran it's art. For the humans that believe in it, it's all about attaining perfection." He fished his sonic screwdriver out again and deactivated Trin-E, who had decided to come at them with a chainsaw arm. "Don't get me wrong, they're programmed to be completely mad, but not everyone is out here. Well, the real here, not the pretend holographic here."

"What's that?" She asked, glancing over at the sonic screwdriver, "Why did you program things to be completely mad? How can you tell by looking at someone what their beliefs are before you offend them like I just would have?"

Galactic Vacationing - Wednesday, Period 4

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