Primeval Fanfiction: A Guest Named Mortimer
Title: A Guest Named Mortimer
Author: TalliW
Pairings: Helen Cutter, Mortimer
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Primeval is the property of Impossible Pictures. I write just for fun. So don't bother me.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to fredbassett for beta-reading. I couldn't have done it without you.
The idea for the Primeval film casting comes from Mr. Fredbassett and his lovely wife in Denial Sunday chat. Tom Cruise for Cutter was the idea of maiel_alcinoe.
Mortimer, the friendly T-Rex belongs to sunsets_dinos and is currently sitting in her living room. Don't ask, just accept we're crazy people.;) *waves to sunset_dinos and growls at Mortimer*
AN: All right, I agree I have to be completely insane to have come up with this. But perhaps it was just the sleep deprivation and too many ham sandwichs in the middle of the night...
Worst case scenario for the planned American Primeval film:
Cutter = Tom Cruise, Helen = Glenn Close, Claudia Brown = Madonna, Stephen = Mel Gibson,
Ryan = Stephan Seagal, Lester = Robert Redford, Connor = Mike Myers, Abby = Liz Hurley
Surely the movie won't be that bad. Or so I hope.
Helen Cutter sat in the living room of the house her lying, unfaithful bastard of ex-husband had left her and looked accusingly at Mortimer.
There was something odd here. The guy couldn't have four aces when she already had two.
"You're cheating," she called and her guest puffed angrily and slammed the cards on the coffee table.
"OK, OK, it doesn't matter," she pacified him. The game was dumb anyway. She didn't even know why she had come up with the silly idea of playing skat with only two people.
She grabbed the remote control and switched on the televison.
Of course Mortimer's eyes were instantly glued to the screen.
Sighing, she settled down on the couch and watched a dumb American movie about some dinosaur hunters.
Tom Cruise was just busily grilling a velociraptor with a flame-thrower as the whole hotel in front of him exploded. Suddenly Madonna appeared behind him and sank into his arms and they both kissed passionately before the camera zoomed discreetly away to an angry Glenn Close watching them from the shadows.
Helen yawned, bored, and considered making herself a ham sandwich but decided against that plan.
Mortimer always got too excited by the smell of meat or sausage. Better not provoke him shortly before sleeping time.
She looked again at the screen.
Robert Redford was currently pacing back and forth in the skyscraper in the middle of Seattle, whilst Mike Myers walked into the building with a checkered hat on his head and a baby terror bird sitting on his shoulder, his right arm in a sling and his left eye covered with an eyepatch.
Helen shook her head and closed her eyes, tiredly, when he was enthusiastic welcomed by Liz Hurley in a red evening dress with a green feather boa around her neck.
Some time later, the growing noise from the TV woke her up from her slumber and she glanced at the screen. Mortimer really shouldn't be watching such a crap, she thought as she rolled her eyes at the plot line.
Mel Gibson, Stephen Seagal, Glenn Close and Tom Cruise were standing before a glowing gap as Cruise got a farewell kiss from Madonna and Gibson had one from Liz Hurley whilst Robert Redford shared amorous looks with Mike Myers.
Stephen Seagal and Glenn Close looked proper Charlies now, because no one was kissing them.
When all four hopped through the glowing gap into another world and were instantly attacked by a herd of T-Rex'es Helen scratched her head and eyed Mortimer suspiciously.
He wouldn't have been so mean as to sell her ideas for a new children's book to the Hollywood moguls, would he?
Angrily, she walked over to Mortimer and hit him over the head with the remote control.
As Helen Cutter glared at Mortimer, the friendly T-rex only grinned at her, flaps of skin from his last meal still hanging between his teeth.
Tomorrow she would tell the psychiatrist what Mortimer had done again and then the grinning T-rex would learn it wasn't wise to mess with a future best-selling author.