A tide of blackness sweeps across reality, like the shadows of closing theater curtains. There's a small twinkling sound as reality blinks out and in.
Suddenly, you're what looks like a very large room. There are small tables and seats as far as the eye can see; everything is garishly decorated in keeping every imaginable winter holiday, from the thousands on Earth expanding out to those of every sapient species with a concept of winter.
Everyone who's anyone is here, and several million people who aren't anyone at all. Literally the entire cosmic multiverse is here for the celebration, including everyone you've ever met and everyone you ever will. Everyone seems to be quite suited to the current earth standard-environment, despite that some of them reside in two dimensions or the cores of blue-white stars.
Despite that the room would have to literally be infinite in size, you (and everyone else) have an easy view of the large and well-lit stage. There's a person standing there, holding a microphone. They look just like you, identical in every respect. They smile slightly and wave at everyone before beginning to speak.
"Hello! I'm no one in particular and was chosen to be the host of this event. I'm really glad at the turnout! Welcome to the first annual Cosmic Holiday Bonanza!", the mirror-person says, looking at you in particular, "The schedule for the festivities is on pamphlet right in front of you. If you have any questions, feel free to make queries in whatever way you feel comfortable, including thermonuclear detonations and telepathy!"
The figure waves again and steps off the stage to sit in a nearby chair as some people begin to enter the stage holding musical instruments.
They start to play.
The pamphlet gives the following schedule:
Hello and welcome to the Cosmic Holiday Bonanza!
When attending this event, please comply with the following rules in order to ensure all attendees have the best possible time:
1. Please refrain from assaulting your fellow attendees. The Three Times Rule will be enforced on offenders; repeat offenders will be removed by security demiurges.
2. Please refrain from damaging tables, chairs and local causality!
2. Please dispose of trash in the marked receptacles. Please place hazardous materials in the appropriate container. If you are uncertain if the waste falls under Biohazard, Mystic Hazard or Causality Hazard, please consult one of our friendly staff members.
Thank you for helping us make this the best holiday event of this, and all, seasons!
Refreshments are available by request to our endless staff of angelic waiters. Feel free to contact them by means of the signal gun provided at your table.
Our agenda is as follows:
From now to until we get tired of it: Music by everyone who can make it to the stage; anyone else by request.
Following that until causality forbids: Endless fifteen thousand course buffet.
After that but before everyone decides to stop: Entertainment acts of non-musical nature.
After that but before the next thing: Snow War: Snowmegeddon, the Return of Frosty.
Finally: A surprise mystery event!
Other activities may be scheduled by request. Following the end of this event, you will be returned to your proper time and place in the cosmos. Thank you for attending the first annual Cosmic Holiday Bonanza!
“She'd become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do. And she'd taken to it well. She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella.”
A lithe, wispy lady clad about in baubles of pink and magenta strode quick through the immense crowds, once the Mirror-Person had finished his/her/its spiel. Behind her were a most fashionable retinue; a voluptuous, long-haired brunette in all manner of plush and luxurious furs; a plump and handsome woman bedecked in green and blue silk; a tall, lean, athletic man with excellent cheekbones and a rather flattering blue leotard; and a short yellow-and-orange-clad man of even greater beauty, his hair fluffed into a fierce, silvery plume; behind the lot of them, three ragtag boys, barely notable apart from the various attendant goblins ambling about.
No doubt, the Changeling Praetors of Arboralia's Iss'Iriq Province would be the talk of whatever section of seating in which they found themselves. With that in mind, Lady Fl'Orissette Betrozian called out to her train--Lady Wolfwyn Silvan-Wilde, Lady Retress Thaive, Lord Beizor Haxxin, Lord Garian Kinnzedor and their riff-raff trio of underlings.
"Praetors--and company--! We Changelings were not gifted from our service in the Fay Court to be seated in the back with the likes of Kim Kardashian and Donald Trump! So, I've set the task before you: spot the Penultimate and his motley crew. We SHALL have our place in the genuine VIP!"
Her squad giving a singular simultaneous nod, they fanned out into the crowd, determined.
“…Judge not what a man has done, but judge what he could have done if he was a different bloke altogether. For art thou a leper? And a leper can changeth his spots…” --Rudy Wade, Misfits (Series 4, Episode 8)
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