Spiderdom and the Quest for the Sky Cat

“This is going to be so evil. Me and Dr. Gloom and… thingy… on a mission to find the key to eternal life!” Dr. Dementia said excitedly. “A good old fashioned race for the prize between the winners, us, and the losers, the Chrisonator and his crew.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “I beg to differ,” he mumbled under his breath. “Now, remind me again how we’re going to get to that random volcano where the Sky Cat supposedly lives?”

“We’re going in my flying car.” Dr. Dementia replied.

Everyone stared at him.

“What? I own a flying car, you know. I actually made it.”

“What, you mean that thing you stole from the Metropolopolopian Military and stencilled your insignia on?” Dom queried politely.

“Yes, that thing. But I did make the insignia.”

“Correction, you went on the internet and got a picture of a skull which you crudely added “Dementia” onto in ballpoint pen,” Dom said flatly.

“Well, yes, but I did write on the design,” Dementia said.

“Actually, I think you’ll find you made me do that.” Dom countered.

“Well, I told you to do it. Doesn’t that count for something?” Dementia said; Dom noticed a faint air of clutching at straws, but said nothing.

“Right, right, yeah, whatever.” Dom rolled his eyes. Dementia was staring at him again. He blushed and looked at his fingernails. They needed trimmed again. He was pretty sure it was because of Dementia’s growth accelerating hormone that his fingernails were about a centimetre longer than they should have been.

Dr. Gloom was staring at his own fingers. “I have a sudden urge to cut my fingers off,” he told the room at large.

Dr. Dementia grabbed a steak knife from his pocket. God only knows why he had it in there in the first place. “I’ll do it!” he shrieked, brandishing the knife above his head.

Dr. Gloom snatched his hands away from Dementia. “Er, no thanks.”

Dementia sat down, pouting.

“Are we going yet?” Dom asked. “’Cause I need to get my iPod and my stuff packed up and everything.”

“Sure, I’ll drop you off at your apartment on the way,” Dementia said. “Let’s go now, or we’ll lose our advantage.”

Dom nodded. “Yes, the advantage in a race to find a cat that doesn’t exist.”

*

Dom had given up on packing in an orderly manner and was just throwing things into his suitcase while Dr. Gloom hovered outside his window in the sleek black flying car and Dr. Dementia stood in the doorway with his arms folded.

“Mind, you do keep your place very clean,” he noted.

Dom nodded. “I have like OCD or something. I can’t have things dirty.”

“Mmm,” Dementia said, kicking a pair of underpants under Dom’s bed.

“Hey, is it alright if I take this for a spin?” Dr. Gloom called in through the open window. “I can see a couple of birds I feel like running into.”

“Feel free,” Dementia said. “But I don’t want any feathers in the back. That’s where Dom sits and we won’t be able to survive a journey if Dom keeps complaining of having feathers up his ass.”

Dr. Gloom saluted and sped off into the sky.

Dom grumbled to himself and threw in some more of his pants.

“You have pink pants?” Dr. Dementia enquired.

Dom nodded. “Yeah. Cool, eh?”

“No. Weird.” Dr. Dementia countered. “I’m not going to be seen in public with you stating your sexuality so blatantly.”

Dom scowled and said nothing. He couldn’t exactly deny that he was gay after he and Matt had… well… But he wasn’t gay, that was the thing. It was just a pity kiss, nothing more.

Dr. Dementia picked up a bundle of wires and threw it at Dom. “D’you need that?”

“Oh, my iPod, yeah.”

Dementia picked up the iPod and turned it on. “What stuff do you have on here?” he said as he surfed through Dom’s music.

“Oh, loads of stuff. Random stuff I hardly listen to, mostly, but there’s a couple of things. Fishes of the Deep Blue Sea. They’re great.”

“Mhmm.” Dementia nodded to himself and sat on the end of Dom’s bed, picking at the paint on his wall as if he wanted to say something but he was too embarrassed to do so.

“Dom, if this doesn’t go very well… if someone gets hurt… if you… if you d-d… if you,” he swallowed, “Well, I just want to let you know that I’m sorry. You’re my best friend; you know that, don’t you?”

Dom made a big deal out of putting in his deodorant to wipe his eyes. “Yeah, you too Matt.” He looked up, and Matt smiled at him. Dom smiled back.

For once it was just Matt Bellamy and Dom Howard. For once it was just a couple of friends going on holiday. For once it wasn’t one evil scheme getting in their way.

And then the moment was lost.

Dom cleared his throat and closed his case. “There. Everything in,” he said.

Dr. Dementia jumped up. “Damn! I was supposed to go and meet up with Pasta Girl on Friday! What am I supposed to do? We have to stop searching for the Sky Cat!”

“Pasta Girl?” Dom asked, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God, you have a date.”

“Yeah.”

“OH MY GOD YOU HAVE A DATE!”