What the fuck was that?!

I don't know. The last thing I remember was several thousand volts of electricity running through my body.

Well that's what you get when you let the loose wire attached to the Christmas lights touch your nipple ring; stupid bloody woman.

Hey that wasn't my fault. You were supposed to be holding the wire, Jonesy. You should've done a better job at keeping it away from my piercings!

Guys, listen... I'm being serious here. I know you're in the middle of an argument, or a lovers tiff or whatever-the-fuck kinda' row you're having. I mean I don't know what you all get up to when I'm not looking but seriously, what the actual fuck was that?

Sounds like... Sounds like... Erm...

I can hear it, Smith... But I don't know, I can't quite put my finger on it.

***

Now, it should be noted that the above never actually happened.

OK so that's a lie, because that conversation most definitely did take place but not in the traditional way conversations usually happen because you see our favourite threesome - Smith, Jones and Kris, as if you needed anything by way of clarification - had been implanted with a device that allowed them to communicate with each other by thought alone.

They had also had some serious body modifications but none of that really matters as I suspect the white light will appear long before they get around to discovering any of them. But y'know, it might not...

They might be lucky, of course, and the fact that their Little Robot Bastards, LRBs or to use the more widely accepted term, nanites, had had plenty of time to fully integrate with their respective central nervous systems could potentially mean those LBRs will remain with them for many sub-genres to come, but only time will tell...

***

And then there was light because somebody opened the curtains, thus allowing brilliantly bright sunshine to permeate the former gloom of what turned out to be, in fact, a finely decorated room.

"What're we doing in the nineteenth century?" Jones asked, unnecessarily vocally but y'know, force of habit and all that, as he glanced out of the window and saw an airship floating in the sky. "More specifically, a Steampunk nineteenth century?"

"I'm not entirely sure we are, Jonesy," replied Kris, following his gaze. "Look at the advertisement on the side there. 'Bud Super-Duper Light; When Super Light Beer Isn't Pansy Enough.'"

"We're in the future?" Smith asked. "Or an altered past? Wait... Are we in Alternate Universe again?"

"I don't think so," said Kris. "Though of course we might be... We've revisited a sub-genre or two already, so..."

At that point the conversation was interrupted quite rudely when a bullet ended up in Smith's chest. It didn't just end up there, of course. It was fired from a gun of some kind and travelled what in truth was a great distance before creating a tiny, bullet-sized hole in the glass pane of the window.

"Ouch!" Smith exclaimed, though mere milliseconds after doing so he realised that it did not actually hurt and moments after that, as the bullet worked its way out of his chest and landed upon the hardwood floor with a quiet thud, he shrugged.

"Is that wound healing itself, Smith?" Jones asked as he leaned forwards to get a closer look.

"I do believe it is, Jonesy, yes!"

"Well I guess that settles it," said Kris. "You've got nanites. We're in Nanopunk."

"I have nanites?!" Smith asked with a rather horrified look upon his face. "What on Earth are nanites? They sound painful!"

"Quite the opposite," Kris replied. "In fact, for as long as you have them you'll theoretically be fitter, faster, healthier and technically immortal, but..."

There was a second interruption, this time in the form of a knock upon the door.

"Erm, who is it?" Jones ventured.

"This is the Temporal Police. Open the door."

"Crap, I've heard about the Temporal Police," said Kris, grimacing as she spoke. "They were supposed to have been written out of reality though."

"Apparently not," Smith replied, his eyebrow raised. "What do they police?"

"Illegal travel between sub-genres," she said. "At a guess, I'd say we're sitting pretty at number one on their most-wanted list!"

At that point, because as you've gathered by now things tend to happen as and when they're required to happen, the incredibly bright and brilliantly white light appeared and as a threesome they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

That relief, however, was short-lived, for as the light subsided...

"Open the door, in the name of the Temporal Police. There's nowhere for you to run. We've dropped a Temporal Blanket over the area... That white light can come and go all it wants, but you lot are going nowhere!"