Down and Dumped in Whitechapel.
While the Constructor and the gang from Pasadena tried to unlock or create an override for what they hoped was the control panel for the gateways a group of London coppers who had learnt they were fictional characters were sitting dejected in a pub. Except for their volunteer archivist who was over in his own booth being chatted up by fans.
The others were drinking heavily to the extent that the OCD guy was even ignoring his suit jacket had a stain. Sitting next to them was a blurry SFX who was babbling.
"I I i might not be a a a demon I i i might be a a a ghost or a a a time traveller or or or .."
"An annoying echo?" grumbled the teams father figure.
Then a ray of sunshine broke through the gloom as two figures appeared dressed in mid twentieth century walking clothes complete with sticks and canvas backpacks.
"Gentlemen can we buy you a round and discuss the current situation? We're giving out invitations to a very special event. A party with gifts."
"And wizardly fireworks!" chortled the other heartily.
The archivist who had read their books and recognised them got up and ran over to them gushing "A QUEST ! An invitation to a quest?"
Ron and Jack smiled.