Arthur and Sid were sitting cross armed and grumpily in the police station waiting area waiting for the detectives to finish looking at the body of Mr. White-not-Black so they could get back and interview them.
Officer Dick came over, “You have one telephone call Mr. Pendragon, who do you want to make it to?”
“My solicitor.”
“What?”
“My legal advisor, my solicitor.”
“He means his lawyer,” interjected Sid.
“Why can’t you limeys speak proper American,” chided Officer Dick.
“It is proper English my good man, American is not a language.”
“What are you doing over here anyhows? Why didn’t you stay in England?”
“I prefer to be called British.”
“Same question.”
“Well actually I am not over here, I am from a different dimension…”
Sid jabbed Arthur in the ribs with his elbow.
“Oww,” yelped Arthur and gave Sid a dirty look.
“A different dimension?” inquired the policeman.
“He’s confused,” interrupted Sid, “he meant a different declension.”
“What?”
“Er,” erred Arthur, “a different declension means a different indication of things, as in he or him.”
“He’s still not making sense. Is he trying for a plea of diminished responsibility?”
“Just get me my lawyer,” ordered Arthur to Officer Dick. He spoke quietly to Sid, “I hate Americanisms, I wish we had won the American War of Independence in this dimension. Did the British beat any of the Americans in any of the different dimensions?”
“Did they win in the horror dimension?”
“They may have, the horror dimension does not seem to have stuck to Professor When’s timeline archetype.”
“Come on then,” said the Officer, “get your phone call.” He slanted his head as he spoke to Sid, “You can have one phone call as well.”
Sid nodded as he turned up his nose.