Fascinating. A mimetic polyalloy operating under subconscious control. I am going to turn you into so many blunt objects while I'm stuck here!
Oh bugger. ><
OK. Let's just go with this. If you really are me from the future, you'll know that I'm not terribly keen on surprises like these. So before we get into the whole Old Spock/New Spock nonsense, prove your credentials. Tell me something only Reginald Vengeance would know. My guilty pleasure pop song, my dream bride and honeymoon, my secret hiding place for all the Malteasers so Dr Kaos doesn't scoff them all, the manky Scots git; anything, I don't mind at all! Just whisper it in my ear and then I can decide whether or not to throw this floating football into the wall or not.
And if you are indeed the real McCoy, what are you doing here and what's going on? Are you pulling a paradox to get us out of this lunacy? I must admit having your own world faith rather loses its allure when the whole multiverse is about to go 'pop'.





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