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The Vortex
Natasha Ivanovna Kovalev was given her name by her father, while from her mother she got her nationality and her red hair. Unfortunately from her father she also got the traditional Russian woman's tendency towards, well, fat. Only regular aerobics and obsessive calorie counting kept it in check. Thus she was exactly like all her friends.
She met Alex in a first year Computer Science tutorial. He jabbed an elbow into her, and asked that she stop snoring so that he could hear the tutor. If you asked Alex now, he'd tell you that the snoring is just part of her charm, though he won't let her sleep on her back.
One night, Tasha and Alex were walking home from a study group, where they had been studying the use of metaphorical imagery in Monty Python. Needless to say, they were slightly drunk.
So anyway, they were walking home, and they saw this black swirly vortex floating in the air in front of them. It was under a street lamp, swirling in that way that black swirly vortices do. Thanks to a combination of Monty Python, slightly too much alcohol, and far too much 'scientists can explain anything' from those rare conscious moments in lectures, they didn't run away screaming.
"Whadda ya reckon it is?" asked Alex.
"Well," began Tasha, "It's either a rift in the fabric of space and time, or..."
"Or?"
"Or."
"How can there be an 'or' to an answer as definitive as that?"
Tasha turned to face Alex. "Oh believe me, there's an 'or'."
"Which is?"
"Or, it's a big black swirly vortex floating in the air."
"Ahuh," said Alex. "And what, might I ask does 'a rift in the fabric of space and time' actually entail?"
"Well, you'll have to give me five minutes. I only just made it up, and it'll take me a while longer to come up with an explanation."
"Ahuh. Having safely eliminated the spatial-chronal rift theory..."
"Spatial-chronal rift theory?"
"Ahuh."
"That's quite clever."
"Why thank you, Madame."
Tasha smiled. "You're welcome."
"Now, back to what I was saying. Having safely eliminated the spatial-chronal rift theory, we are left with only one alternative."
"Which is?"
"That what we have before us is a big swirly vortex floating in the air."
"Whoah, you're brilliant."
"Why thank you, Madame."
"You're welcome."
Alex and Tasha turned back towards the vortex. They watched it swirl for a few seconds.
"You know," began Tasha, "it's really a quite artistic big black swirly vortex floating in the air."
"Yes," mused Alex. "Pretty, too."
"Mmm."
They watched it a few moments more. Tasha sat down on the pavement.
"Why're you sitting down?" asked Alex.
"Well, as students of the sciences, it is our duty to explain this mysterious big black swirly vortex floating in the air. Correct?"
"Correct."
"And given the fact that we are somewhat inebriated, and further that we are less than competent students of the sciences when sober, this is likely to take some time. Correct?"
"Correct."
"Given these facts, I decided that the only logical course of action was to park my butt."
"Soundly reasoned." Alex sat down next to her. While Alex studied the vortex further, Tasha picked the bits of blue cotton from around the edges of the holes in her jeans. She then rolled them into balls, and threw them at Alex. Once she got bored with that, she tried throwing a couple into the vortex. After doing a little swirling of their own, the little blue balls disappeared.
Alex ran his fingers through his hair. "Given all of the known information, there is of course only one alternative."
Tasha turned to face Alex, raising an eyebrow. "Which is?"
"Run away screaming, of course."
"Mmm." Tasha looked thoughtful for a moment. "There is one fatal flaw in this otherwise devilishly cunning plan."
"Which is?"
"Elementary my dear Wot-not. If we were going to run away screaming, we should have done it when we first encountered the big black swirly vortex."
"Ahuh. Good point."
"I thought so."
"We could run away screaming and tell everyone we did it when we first encountered the big black swirly vortex. There aren't any witnesses to contradict us."
"True, but we could be found out. I mean, 'In vino veritas.'"
"'In wine there's truth'?"
"Yes, and tomorrow's Friday, which means we'll be in a lot of vino."
"Ahuh. Perhaps we'd better stay."
"Mmm."
From behind them, Tasha and Alex heard the gentle patter of approaching size fourteen combat boots. They turned to see the local community constable, who by one of those unfortunate coincidences that run the world was called Butcher.
"Oh damn, it's the cannibal," muttered Tasha.
"Hello Ossifer," called out Alex.
"'Ello 'ello 'ello, woss goin' on 'ere then," asked Officer Butcher.
Alex stood up. "I, for one, have absolutely no idea."
Tasha remained seated. "And I, for two, don't know either."
"After detailed study," explained Alex, "we have come to the conclusion that this is a big black swirly vortex floating in the air."
"Are you drunk?" asked Officer Butcher, in a particularly policemanly way.
"Yes Ossifer, but only slightly."
"Are you gettin' smart sonny?"
"Not me Mister Ossifer, Sir."
Officer Butcher reached for his truncheon, but luckily for Alex, he'd left it with his other trousers. "Bugger," he muttered.
"Excuse me Ossifer Pork-Product," began Tasha.
"Woss that? Are you gettin' smart?"
"Who me?" asked Tasha, looking up at Officer Butcher and smiling innocently. "No Ossifer, of course not. I was just wondering if your duties as our local representative of the constabulary would include investigating big black swirly vortices floating in the air."
"Woss that? Are you gettin' smart?"
Tasha and Alex rubbed their temples.
"I know," said Alex, "I'll try to explain it to him in his own language."
"Exemplary thinking."
"Why thank you, Madame."
"You're welcome."
Alex turned to Officer Butcher.
"Look mate, we was wondrin' if you was goin' to find out wot this thingy was, bein' as 'ow you're a copper an' evryfin'."
"Oh," said Officer Butcher as he was struck by understanding, "why didn't you just say so, mate."
Alex sat down, suddenly weary.
Officer Butcher pulled his torch out from his belt. He poked it into the vortex, and found it pulled from his grasp. The torch swirled in a strangely untorchlike manner, before disappearing.
"'Ere," he exclaimed, "this bleedin' fings nicked me torch."
Tasha jumped to her feet. "Good god man, not... your torch!"
Alex also jumped up, a shocked expression on his face. "Has it no sense of decency?"
"Woss that? Are you gettin' smart?"
Alex looked at Tasha. "Whoah, deja vu - I swear I've heard that somewhere before."
"You too? Not much of a conversationalist, is he."
Officer Butcher looked decisive. "Right, I'd better call for some back-up."
"Why?" asked Tasha. "To help get back your torch?"
"We've got to erect barricades," explained Officer Butcher, "someone might fall inter that."
"Ah yes, of course," said Tasha, taking a few paces back. Then she began walking on the spot. "Some poor soul is walking along the street, minding their own business, and completely failing to notice the big black swirly vortex floating in the air in front of them, trip and fall in." Tasha mock-tripped, and waved her arms about.
"Right chummy, I'm gettin' sick of your smart mouth!"
Alex and Tasha stared at each other, open mouthed.
"Did he really just call me chummy?" asked Tasha.
"No. Of course not. Must have been an hallucination."
"Yes. That's it. An audial hallucination."
"Ahuh. Is there really such word as 'audial'?"
"I have absolutely no idea."
While Tasha and Alex discussed audial hallucinations, Officer Butcher called for back-up. Shortly thereafter, the back-up arrived. There were about thirty back-up to be approximate, and they carried barricades and spare truncheons with them.
"Hut-hut-hut-hut. 'Ello 'ello 'ello, woss goin' on 'ere then," said Sergeant Boer. Officer Butcher stepped forward to explain. "Well sir, wot we got 'ere is a big black swirly torch eating vortex."
"Good god man, you're not saying it ate your torch!"
"Aren't I, sir? I could've sworn I was."
"Well did it or didn't it? Quickly man, lives could be at stake!"
"Well, I think it did..."
Tasha interjected: "Of course it ate your bloody torch!"
All of the police officers turned to face Tasha, and said in unison: "Watch your lip, chummy!"
"Oh God."
Sergeant Boer decided to get things organised.
"All right lads, get those barricades erected, before someone falls inter that fing!"
"Have you ever noticed..." began Alex.
"Yes. Yes I have."
"Thought so."
The police quickly erected their barricades, and then proceeded to stand behind them, looking tough. Officer Butcher and Sergeant Boer walked over to Alex and Tasha, who were sitting on the ground, watching. Sergeant Boer spoke to them:
"All right you two, what do you know about this?"
Alex and Tasha smiled innocently up at the two policemen. "Absolutely nothing, Ossifers," said Tasha. "We did consider a chronal-spatial rift theory, but eliminated it on the grounds that it was a load of bollocks."
"Are you communists?"
"What?!?"
Officer Butcher interjected: " The girls name's Kovalev, Sir. Natasha Kovalev."
"Is this suddenly nineteen-fifty-seven, and no-one mentioned it to me?" asked Tasha.
"Must be," replied Alex.
"Well why didn't you tell me? Don't you love me anymore?"
"Of course I do. No-one told me, either."
Sergeant Boer called back to the other policemen: "We've got ourselves a couple of commie spies here lads."
"'Ello 'ello 'ello," replied the lads.
"Right, you're under arrest communists!"
"Somehow I thought we might be."
The policemen emerged from behind their barricades. They lifted Tasha and Alex to their feet.
"Ow! Ow! Police brutality!" shouted Tasha.
"Shut-up, girly!" said Sergeant Boer, and hit her with his truncheon. "That shut 'Er up."
Alex and Tasha were dragged off to the police station.
Shortly thereafter Mr Micheal Woodhouse, a local chiropodist, came walking along, minding his own business, when he tripped and fell over the Police barricades. After a few brief moments of swirling in a particularly un-chiropodist-like manner, he disappeared into the vortex, never to be seen again. Thus, if only Officer Butcher and Sergeant Boer could have waited a few minutes longer they would have been proven right. Unfortunately, they were busy for the remainder of the night, interrogating the communists.
The following morning, Sergeant Boer led his crack squad of barricade watchers, and a pair of scientists from the university back to the big black swirly vortex.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked them.
"Well, I'd have to say that it's a big black swirly vortex."
"And I'd have to agree with him."
"Yes, yes."
"So what are you going to do?" asked Sergeant Boer.
"We'll have to study it."
"Yes, yes."
"Shall we sit down?"
"Why not?"