FLIPPING DIMENSIONS: The hilarious thriller with a twist of sci-fi by Tim Thornton

FLIPPING DIMENSIONS: The hilarious thriller with a twist of sci-fi by Tim Thornton

Author:Tim Thornton [Thornton, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: POLR Press
Published: 2024-02-03T00:00:00+00:00


One thing’s for sure: if America has become smartphone and celebrity obsessed, then in Britain it’s a bloody epidemic. Just on the journey to the car the Actress has at least three photos of her taken, she’s filmed by someone as she wanders into the café, she’s asked for an autograph while she’s putting milk in her coffee, she’s badgered for two ‘selfies’ while we’re on our way to the lift, a couple more while Paul’s paying for the parking. She even has some creepy fat guy yelling ‘Hey, Gaïm! Come and slap me!’ from across the car park while Paul’s putting her case in the boot.

‘Fucking Gatwick,’ Ash says, once we’re all in the car.

I get my own dose of this madness a few moments later when we’re driving out of the multi-storey. There’s a bunch of young people in the car next to us at the ticket machine. A red-haired girl in the passenger seat spots me and squawks to her companions, ‘Fuck, it’s the guy from that video!’

I feel like hiding or rolling up my window, but instead I gaze back dumbly at them.

‘Hey, mate!’ she shouts, giving me the two-fingered salute. ‘Have you seen this anywhere?’

‘Come on,’ Paul laughs. ‘You didn’t even get the line right.’

‘Shut it, you nasty blonde cunt,’ the girl spits.

Thankfully our barrier has just gone up. Paul speeds off.

‘Amazing,’ he says. ‘You guys get all the love and I get called a cunt.’

‘You can swap with me if you like,’ I reply.

‘Ha! You love it, I’m sure. Probably like a fast track to fame, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah… but I’m not really after the fame.’

‘Oh, of course you’re not,’ the Actress leers.

‘Well, do you enjoy it?’ I ask her.

‘Comes with the territory.’

‘But do you enjoy it.’

‘Not especially.’

‘There you go,’ I reply. ‘I’m gonna steer well clear of anything mainstream.’

‘Oh, are you?’ Ash says, turning round. ‘We’ll just see about that. As soon as you graduate you’ll bite someone’s hand off for any sort of work whatsoever. Adverts. Photo shoots. Do you know, two years out of college, I spent an entire week in Frankfurt dressed as a children’s book about poo?’

‘Exactly,’ I reply. ‘I’d rather…’

‘No-no, don’t tell me. You’d rather work in a bar, stick to fringe theatre and keep yourself pure?’

‘Without a doubt.’

‘Yup, I probably really was this pretentious,’ Ash mutters, facing the front again.

‘Wow,’ Paul observes, turning onto the motorway. ‘You guys really are bringing the bantz.’

‘Yeah,’ I drawl, ‘that’s why a world-renown producer wants to work with us.’

‘Director,’ the Actress says.

‘Both, actually,’ Paul points out.

Somewhere a phone starts ringing.

‘Who the hell,’ the Actress says, fishing around in her bag. ‘What bloody time is it? Eight a.m.?’

She pulls out her phone. A picture of a large, smiling face in massive shades.

DAVE McCRAE.

‘Oh, God. I can’t speak to him now.’

‘You have to!’ Paul exclaims.

‘No, I don’t. I’ve had sod all sleep and I’ve got a banging headache.’

‘That’s what he likes about you,’ I comment.

‘Shut up.’

‘Darling,’ Paul reasons. ‘You cannot send Dave McCrae to voicemail.



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