THE STAIRS ARE NOT MY FRIENDS.

[ The video opens to a familiar blonde-haired teenager staring very intently at the feed. It should be noted that he is swaying from side to side as if he is about to topple over and his eyes are quite bloodshot, which tend to suggest that he has consumed a fair amount of alcohol recently.

... In this case, that suggestion would be absolutely correct. ]

Hello, City! Well... not that I am talking to the actual City, because that would just be very silly. [ A beat. ] And that kind of rhymed! Which is just as well, because... because guess what? I have a poem.

See, everybody else seems to be telling bad jokes and so I thought—well, I thought that since I tell bad jokes a lot, I should try something else. And do you know what I have never tried? Poetry. Here, let me prepare my poetry-reading voice.

[ He clears his throat, almost falls over backwards, rights himself and then looks at the scrap of paper in his hands. ]

"Once upon a weekend anything but dreary, while I pondered, not very weak or weary,
Over no quaint or curious volumes of forgotten lore, because that is Alan's thing,
While I woke up, not quite napping, there were probably lots of Network posts of warning,
But that doesn't really matter because I was already cursed anyway, and everything was horrible."

[ After reading all that in a very ominous tone of voice, he hiccups. ] I think I will have to work on the last line, it doesn't seem to fit very well. But it was quite hard to relate a curse to someone knocking on a chamber door, maybe I should have mentioned—

[ It's at this point that he actually does topple over backwards off the bench he's sitting on, and as he's outside the video now, all citizens will hear is a dull thud as he hits the ground. And then, about thirty seconds later: ] Ow.

... I don't understand why there is no appreciation for yogilates! Kids these days, I tell you. [Says the sixteen-year-old.] Yoga! And pilates! How could the both of those combined not be appealing?

Well, if anyone is sick of canoeing or shooting things or campfire songs, then I promise it's a very relaxing and rewarding activity. Yogilates, I mean.

[Jamie thinks he probably would've been safer with football. Not that he is actually any good at playing it himself, he just likes watching other people play it. But is he any good at teaching yogilates? WHO KNOWS.]

[The feed turns on and a very perplexed blonde boy is on the screen. Looking perplexed, obviously.]

Did... anyone else wake up to find someone who looked very much like them? Because it is very terrifying and strange and... and cloning is illegal for a reason! And I also don't know how much longer I can hide from him. Me? Him. [He turns the video to the crack in the door, through which Jamie's clone is visible. He's just standing outside his room, looking rather vacant. After ten seconds or so, the clone turns and walks off down the hallway.]

Oh, er... where is he going? [Uh oh.] ... You don't think he looks like an axe-murderer, do you? I mean, I'd like to think I don't look like an axe-murderer, but he has that odd look in his eye... and his hair is much less cool. [Still, Jamie follows his... other self... out into the kitchen. Where his other self is staring very determinedly at the stove.]

... Okay, other self. Clone self. That is the stove. It's very-- dangerous. You really shouldn't--- [The clone turns on the stove, then turns back to look at Jamie. Jamie frowns.] Yes, yes, okay. It still works. Good to know. I'm sure Alan is pleased it hasn't broken in the last few hours. But you should really--

[The clone basically ignores Jamie and goes over to get a piece of bread. Then proceeds to dump the piece of bread on the stove. And thus: flaming bread!] Oh my god, are you absolutely insane? Turn it off!

[And then the feed cuts out. Yes, even Jamie's clone can't cook breakfast to save his life.]

[The feed opens with Jamie sitting somewhere in Xanadu. Yes, he is very far away from his apartment for good reason.] 

Okay, City. I have a question. It's very important. 

[And then Jamie holds up a knife.] Do roommates generally go around leaving knives under your pillow? Is it somewhere in the unwritten roommate agreement? If it is, it's something you'd think they'd mention beforehand. "Oh, sorry, I have a slight obsession with knives. You may sometimes find them in your bedding." Really, it's just common courtesy! It couldn't be something like... like finger puppets or refreshing mints or anything, could it? No, it had to be knives. I don't know why I'm surprised!

[He huffs, then finally shuts the feed off.]

—oh. Okay. Great. One minute I’m in the kitchen with my mother and she's showing me just how good with golf clubs she really is and the next… I'm standing next to a creepy carousel that ticks. That’s lovely, that is. Very… festive. Did I randomly teleport to the travelling circus? Because I have to say, I didn’t see that one coming.

It’s either that or… or a very skilled kidnapping. And oh, look, they’ve given me a—mobile phone? Wow, that must be a new thing. I haven’t seen that in any of the movies. Well, it wasn’t very smart on their part since… I’ll just… counter by giving them a—a huge phone bill!

[Pause pause pauuuse. Jamie realises that that “recording” light has been red this whole time.] Oh. Um. Hello? I didn’t know mobile phones could record… you have to excuse me, I’m—I’m not very good with technology. See, I even burn toast. And once I tried to put rice in the toaster. … It doesn’t work out very well, in case you wanted to know.

Uh—anyway! I’m Jamie. Or James. But Jamie is better. And I’m… very, very lost. So if any of you potential kidnappers or kidnappees know where I am, or where we are, or just the general geographical location, could you please enlighten me? And if anyone’s seen a girl with pink hair or a woman wielding a golf club, it would be really good if you could point me in their direction. Um. Cheers!