Loz (lozenger8) wrote,

Yes, I do write primarily for myself, can you tell?

Title: The Number You Have Dialled Has Crashed Into A Planet
Rating: G
Fandom: Life on Mars
Word Count: 500 words.
Notes: I had to write my LoM OTP. Sam/Mobile Phone. Set before the series begins. The title is a line from Futurama.

The first phone he got didn’t seem exactly mobile. It was like having a brick attached to his belt. Big, black, with this rubber encased antenna sticking out the top. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t thinking of the antenna as a phallic symbol, but he suspected he didn’t quite succeed. In many ways, his mobile phone was a glorified walky-talky. It was useful, though. He’d gone for a drive north-east in the Yorkshire Dales and broken down. No telephone boxes in sight, it had taken Sam a moment to realise he had the facility to contact the AA on him. They’d appeared in twenty minutes, with towing capabilities and happy grins, and he’d been able to call Tony to pick him up from the nearest service station. It had been the death of his decrepit 1979 Vauxhall Viva but the birth of a long and lasting love affair with his new technological wonder.

Sadly, one day, it just stopped working. He’d taken care of it, never dropped it, hadn’t let it get wet, but the battery died or something and it never worked again. It went to live in a cupboard, in a small box by a pile of paperwork. He couldn’t bear to chuck it out.

His next mobile was a great deal smaller than his last, but surprisingly it was less reliable. He thought this was because it couldn’t pick up transmissions as easily, due to the heavily reduced antenna size. It still helped him get out of a bind. He once used it to leave midway on a blind date with some girl who had an unhealthy obsession with her cat. This phone eventually also bit the dust, but his telephone company gave him a new one for free.

There had been less than wonderful mobile phone occasions. Like the time he’d answered the cheerful ringing and discovered his girlfriend Natasha had dialled his number by accident. He’d listened in anger and disgust to the sounds of her and Tony “sharing intimate relations.” Shortly thereafter (twenty minutes later) he broke it off, with both of them, and transferred to another department. Not much longer after that, he met Maya. His phone – or really, her phone - but he liked to think of it as his phone - had saved him in its own strange and ambiguous way.

Sam simply adored his latest mobile phone. It was compact and sleek, fit neatly into his pocket. It was a constant reminder that he was connected to the world and the world was connected to him. It also had internet access and three fun but challenging games, not to mention the customisable ringtones he could assign to different callers. He didn’t care what scientists and their scare tactics said about radiation and cancer, more good use came from this beautiful device than bad ever could. As he lovingly fondled its buttons, feigning text messaging, Sam wondered how he could ever live without his mobile.

Luckily, he’d never have to.

Tags: gen, humour, life on mars, rated g, short, twisted, writing

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