Of all the bathtubs in all the world, I had to fall asleep in mine… Not the greatest line, or the most original, but it'll do to start with. The bath wasn't even the most important part, not that anyone would believe a word of this story anyhow, crazy as it sounds. All I know is that I was there, it happened, and I'll never forget it.
The first I knew that anything was out of the ordinary was when I woke up freezing cold – not surprising, cause so was the water. What the hell? I hadn't been in here that long! And why hadn't Craig come and woken me up? Then I finally took a look around and realised: this wasn't my bath... or my bathroom.
The tub I was sitting in now was an old-fashioned cast iron job, and the bathroom looked like something out a House and Garden magazine, all brass taps and floral tiles, with lots of cut glass bottles sitting on the shelves and cabinets. The light coming from the small frosted window told me it was daytime. It was 10pm when I got in the bath! What the hell was going on? Where was I? How did I get here? Who was about to get their ass handed to them on the end of a bloody pole?
You probably guessed from that last question that I was a little bit pissed off. You would be right. I was smegging furious, and scared shitless to boot. All of my friends will tell you that when I'm in that kind of headspace, the best thing to do is run and not look back. I'm scary when I'm scared, mostly because I'm a Pratchett fan. Ever since I fell in love with Granny Weatherwax and Susan Death, I've tried to be like them when I'm in a bad spot – namely, lock away the fear until I've got time to deal with it, and have fun with the anger till then. The only snag was, I couldn't see anyone to be angry at. I couldn't hear anyone, either. Then again, that was probably a good thing, I told myself sternly. With no-one around, I had time to figure things out, make a plan, get the hell outta there.
I got out of the tub and stole over to the door. Okay, that was weird, the key was on my side. That ruled out kidnapping, for now. The door opened easily onto what seemed to be an upstairs hallway with the same old-fashioned style as the bathroom. I closed the door again and locked it, no sense in letting anyone sneak up on me. Then I started searching the room, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. Trying to leg it while defenceless would be stupid. I struck paydirt in one of the cabinet drawers, a folding cut-throat razor, nice and sharp. Not the most elegant weapon, but if it was good enough for Mr. Todd…
One more thing, I was still naked, wet and freezing my ass off. I couldn't find anything like a bathrobe or slippers, so the towels on the rail would have to do. That led to a new problem, how to hold up a towel without using both hands. Thinking quickly, I used the razor to tear off a strip so I could tie it up over my boobs. If anyone tried to catch me, the first thing they'd grab would be the towel and I could pull out of it. I used more towel strips to wrap around my feet. If I made it outside, I didn't want to cripple myself on whatever crap might be lying around.
I was about to unlock the door again, when I heard a door bang downstairs. Hell, there was somebody here! Had they heard me? I took the key out of the lock and listened hard. Footsteps, coming slowly up the stairs; two voices, both male. I couldn't hear what they were talking about, but they seemed in a good mood, one of them even laughed and started singing. Drunk, maybe? That would make things a lot easier, but I needed to know more. I'd have to look through the keyhole.
Shit! My head bumped the door handle. A small sound, but the voice of the non-singing man changed. He must have bloody bat's ears, I fumed. He spoke to the other one in warning, shutting him up straight off. I didn't dare look through the keyhole now, what if Batears tried the same thing and saw me? Now they knew someone was in here, and it was only a matter of time before they broke down the door. Then again, they might have a spare key.
Come on, girl, think! The window was too small, and couldn't open, anyway. I wasn't going to mess around with broken glass half-naked unless I had to. They would get in here in the end… so I'd better be ready for them. I grinned wickedly and started looking at all the bottles. I found a jar of some kind of cream and emptied the white gunk out in front of the doorway, spreading it on the tiles in a nice wide streak from the door towards the wall. That should take care of one, one to go.
There was a box of talc on a shelf; I grabbed the box and opened it, ready for throwing. I heard the scrape of a stealthy footstep outside the door. Showtime, fellas… I flattened myself against the wall on the lock side of the door, grabbing a handful of talc. Next moment, the wood around the lock splintered and the door burst in.
The next few seconds were really busy. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, just like in all those cheesy action movies. I wish I could say that everything worked perfectly, but even in the movies, the good guys don't get all the breaks. A tall thin guy came through first, holding a walking stick like a club. The cream worked great; his feet slid straight out from under him and he hit the floor hard with a yell. Unluckily for me, he flailed with his stick as he fell, catching me on the wrist. I let go of the talc I was about to throw in the second guy's face with a yelp of pain and sucked in a lungful of powder. Coughing madly, eyes tearing up, I gripped the razor and decided to go for broke.
Bent low, I went out the door in a rush and headbutted the second guy in the midriff. He staggered back with an 'oof!', losing the gun he'd been holding. He stayed on his feet, though, and made a grab for me, catching me by the hair. I slashed wildly at his face, just missing him; he jerked back and let go, staring at me in surprise. In that split second, I noticed he was favouring his left leg and kicked his right knee hard. He collapsed with a grunt of pain, and I ran for the stairs, the way out finally open. Please don't let there be any more…
I heard a shout of 'Stop her, Holmes!' Gotta catch me first, I thought grimly. I slowed down a little so I wouldn't break a leg on the stairs, but sped up again when I heard footsteps pounding behind me. I didn't dare look, so I focussed on the front door, so close, just a few more steps… then my knees suddenly buckled and I pitched forward into darkness, the words 'Bravo, Mrs. Hudson!' ringing in my ears…
I know, Mary-Sues can be cheesy and annoying, but I just couldn't resist, and I've tried not make her sickeningly perfect! Any flames will be used to fuel my flamethrower, which is pointed at your petrol tank…