Happy Holidays, Refche!
Dec. 4th, 2005 12:23 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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title: The Happiest Place On Earth
gift recipient:
refche
Author:
kaliscoo
Summary: Adam + Disneyland = A decidedly unrestful week. Includes brief Hastur/Ligur, Aziraphale/Crowley.
Rating: G
It was to be the holiday of a lifetime. Seven days, all expenses paid, round trip airfare and a really nice hotel – and best of all, as far as Adam was concerned, was the week-long pass to the happiest place on Earth.
Not that Adam really believed it was the happiest place on Earth. He had never actually been to California before, of course, but was confident in his belief that his own home and the surrounding area could give it a run for its money. But still, a week at Disneyland was nothing to be sneezed at.
Seven days, Adam thought, staring out the airplane window (in the seat next to him, Mr. Young worried patiently over the state of the airline’s seatbelts, and on the other side of him, a very fat man was snoring very loudly). You could do a lot in seven days, even taking into account one day to rest.
Seven days...
***
On the first day, they unpacked their bags in the hotel room. Mr. Young wanted Adam to rest – he said the long flight would make the boy tired. Adam knew that this first day wasn’t for resting. He had other plans.
The pass, said the chipper-faced lady at the park entrance, was good for re-entry at any time during that week. Adam got his hand stamped anyway. That was half the fun.
“What ride are you planning to go on first, little boy?” the lady asked, her smile as bright as the sunlight reflecting off the shiny, super-clean pavement.
Adam gave the glossy park map in his hand a cursory glance. Ghosts, ghouls, and spirits of the dead? He was so there.
The attendant on the Haunted Mansion ride was dressed all in green. Adam stood in front of the line and stared at him, wondering who had decided that dark green was a scarier color than black. Shouldn’t black be the scariest color? If you were going to have a haunted house, shouldn’t it be as scary as possible? So why would you dress the workers in green, not black?
“Come on, kid,” the green-clad employee hissed desperately. “You’re holding up the line.”
“This ride’s stupid,” Adam muttered, climbing – alone; no one seemed to question his lack of parental units, perhaps because it was easier for him if they didn’t – into a Doom Buggy.
“I can make way better nights than this.”
The ride, Adam felt, wasn’t particularly interesting. That the skeletons and spirits, goblins and ghoulies, were all fake was pretty obvious, and the shifting coffin lids, shuddering doors, and ectoplasmic waltzers did nothing to pique his interest. There was only one thing that really caught his attention.
Adam knew, because he’d read all about Disneyland on the airplane, that there were nine hundred and ninety nine ghosts in the mansion. Just to be sure, he counted them as he went through – and came up with two extra.
“Can I go on the ride again?” he asked, stepping off the Doom Buggy and onto the slowly moving walkway. The green-clad ride attendant had little choice; faced with Adam Young at his most determined, he let the boy get right back in the front of the queue, despite the grumbling protests from the other holiday-goers. Adam didn’t pay attention. This was important.
Sure enough, the second time around there were still two extra goblins, one fat and one lanky, snuggled into each other’s arms on a gravestone in the middle of the yard at the end of the ride. Adam stared and stared with a great deal of interest at the cuddling duo, hardly aware – or simply not caring – that the ride seemed to have broken down temporarily, and the rest of the riders were complaining quite loudly about this to the hidden cameras.
“Whatchoo lookin’ at, human?” the fat ghoul grumbled after a moment, lifting its face from it’s counterpart. “Ain’t you never seen a couple o’ demons before?”
“Not kissin’ ones, no,” Adam replied calmly, and, leaning far out of his Doom Buggy, he pulled out his camera (Mr. Young had gotten him a disposable camera, just one, for the trip. Adam was going to make a scrapbook to show the Them when he got home, and show ‘em what they were missin’).
Snap.
With a flash that, though strictly prohibited, would never be dealt with, Adam’s photograph was taken, and the ride moved on.
Ligur shook his head, watching the boy’s Buggy slide away in the false night. “What a perv,” he observed. “He really is his father’s son.”
“Shurrup,” Hastur replied, and pulled Ligur back down behind the gravestone.
***
On the second day, Adam went immediately to New Orleans Square, via the – not very interesting, he had to say – train around the park. His destination today was the Pirates of the Caribbean. He was sure this one would be better than the stupid old Haunted Mansion. That thing had been so fake – but then, everyone knew ghosts weren’t really real, or even if they were, they didn’t go ‘round hauntin’ places like that. But pirates, they really and truly existed. Adam was sure of that.
He had to say, he was pretty disappointed with this ride, as well. Oh, sure, the loot was all nice and shiny, and you had to admit the dog with the key in his mouth was pretty funny – especially once Adam reminded the dog that he could, after all, move, and he ran over and dropped the key by the pirates, and they unlocked their prison and escaped. Seeing the other tourists screaming and crying wasn’t very funny, though, so soon as he could, Adam told the pirates to go back in their cell and give the dog back his key.
But the sky looked very cool, with the clouds all moving like that, and the ocean was def’nitely real water – you couldn’t deny that. He took a picture of both, with a couple of the imprisoned pirates posing in the foreground.
***
On the third day, Adam decided to go exploring the island in the middle of that big lake. The map said it was called Tom Sawyer’s Island. He’d read about Tom Sawyer – that kid seemed to have very nearly as many adventures as Adam wanted to, and for a while, the Them practiced rafting up and down the creek, until Wensleydale lost the pole, and their raft – which was made out of cardboard, after all – got too soggy to push around.
The island, though, wasn’t much more fun than the Haunted Mansion or the Caribbean ride had been. He found his way in and around the caves with ease, having made up way more confusing mazes in his games, and there was no fear to be had passing over the rickety bridges. It was, however, he thought at the end of the day, as he stumbled wearily back to his patiently waiting father, probably the only place in Disneyland with real earth, and real plants. That was something worth photographing. Standing on the edge of the raft going back across the lake, Adam leaned out over the water – to the great dismay of the raft driver – and snapped his camera. One fine snapshot of the island, dirt and bushes and all.
***
On the fourth day, Adam realized his mistake. He had wasted more than half his vacation on silly baby rides – roller coasters, that was the way to go if you wanted excitement. Everyone said so, and everyone knew everyone was right.
“What’s the biggest, fastest roller coaster here?” he asked the lady at the entrance (whose smile had, over the last few days and the last several complaints, begun to fade a little).
“Well, we did just re-open Space Mountain. It’s all new, all improved, very exciting – if you’re tall enough to ride it.”
Adam didn’t worry about height requirements. They had never stopped him yet.
But despite the coaster’s long queue of excited holiday-makers, and the speed as they went whipping between the sun, the moon, and the stars, and though some of the planets were cool enough that he even got a few photographs of them, Adam couldn’t help but stifle a yawn as he got off at the end of the ride.
“Just a lot of shiny lights,” he grumbled, “an’ it isn’t even all that fast. Bet I could make the whole universe go a lot faster’n that.”
But it was getting late, and Dad was waiting up for him back at the hotel, so Adam decided to put universe-spinning off until another day.
***
On the fifth day, Adam asked the advice of a little girl who was standing in the ticket line before him.
“The betht wide in the whole pawk?” she repeated, lisping gratuitously. “I wike the thubmawine wide. It’th pwetty. I wike the fisheth.”
After translating her toothless speech, Adam looked at the map and found the ride she probably intended. Submarines and underwater adventures? That sounded like something Anathema would like, even. He decided to go on that ride.
The fact that it had been closed for some time didn’t perturb him at all.
Carefully snuggled into his seat, the only person on the submarine other than the bemused and underpaid ride operator, Adam stared with cynical eyes through the portholes at the so-called pwetty fisheth.
“Those ain’t much like real fish,” he called out. “I thought there’d be – you know – squids and stuff! Real ones!”
“This is Disneyland, kid,” the ride operator said wearily. “The only real animals are the seagulls and sparrows trying to eat your four dollar churros.”
That got Adam thinking. The fish in the sea hadn’t been much good; maybe the birds in the sky?
After spending more money than he should have on a bag of popcorn, and feeding most of it to the gluttonous sparrows, Adam decided that the birds were more likeable than most of the park employees. He got out his camera, and took a picture of two sparrows fighting with a seagull over the last piece of popcorn. Brian’d get a kick out of that.
***
On the sixth day, Adam sat down on a bench at the end of Main Street to think. This was his last day at the park; Mr. Young had put his foot down about overdoing things, even when on holiday, and Adam knew, besides, that the seventh day would have to be for rest. With his last day at the happiest place on Earth, and only a few pictures left on his camera, he’d have to choose a special ride to go on first.
Drawing up everything he’d learned by reading all those books about Disneyland on the airplane coming to the States, Adam looked at his well-worn map and picked out what he felt was the most Disneyish of all the Disneyland rides: Small World.
And after all, he reasoned as his boat passed between the topiary and into the tunnel of squeaky voices, it wasn’t like this one even pretended to be real, so how bad could it be?
Gazing with interest at the colors, the dolls, the attempt at providing a variety of well-presented cultures (not that Adam thought like this, but the book had mentioned something similar), it took the boy a while to notice the couple in front of him on the boat. People were so often unimportant nuisances, especially here, just pests to move out of the way or get in front of in queues, that he hadn’t really paid much attention to them until they got to Spain, when one of the pair laughed and whispered something about inquisitions in the other one’s ear.
They looked familiar. Very familiar.
Adam pulled out his faithful camera and snapped a couple of pictures. He and Pepper had had a bet on about this, and he wanted to be able to prove to her that he’d been right – that angel and that demon had been holdin’ hands, and doin’ more than that, too.
“That’s just not right,” he sniffed, watching them with more interest than the multinational dolls got, “doin’ that in a place where lots of little kids might be watchin’.”
But as they came out from among the varied bewildering human dolls, and passed once more into the land of the topiary animals, he decided he would tear up those two photographs, once the film was developed. Even an angel and a demon deserved their privacy. ‘Sides, the angel smiled at him as they all got out of the boat, and the demon gave him a friendly wink over the top of his sunglasses, and as the pair walked away, arm in arm, Adam could hear them singing the small world song over and over and over again. It was kinda nice, if you thought about it. Maybe this ride hadn’t been so bad.
***
On the seventh day, Adam stayed all day in the hotel room, and he rested. It was his Father’s orders.
***
Then, he was home, and hanging out with his friends once again. Brian laughed over the sparrows ganging up on the sea gull. Wensleydale liked the Mickey Mouse pen Adam had got him as a souvenir. Dog had been pleased just to have his master back again.
Pepper, though unable to deny that Adam had really seen two demons kissing in the Haunted Mansion – there was photographic evidence, after all – was unwilling to believe that the angel and the demon were going around doing the same thing.
“They couldn’t be at Disneyland with you!” she insisted. “And not ridin’ boats snoggin’ and things! It doesn’t make sense!”
But Adam, who had already torn up and thrown away the snapshots – which hadn’t come out very well after all, unlike the rest of his surprisingly excellent examples of photographic genius hitherto untapped – just smiled, remembering the way they’d been singing in two completely different keys, each stubbornly refusing to change, and, looking down at his scrapbook (cleverly titled, by his father, The Happiest Holiday On Earth), he found it good.
Happy Holidays,
refche, from your Secret Writer!
gift recipient:
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Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summary: Adam + Disneyland = A decidedly unrestful week. Includes brief Hastur/Ligur, Aziraphale/Crowley.
Rating: G
It was to be the holiday of a lifetime. Seven days, all expenses paid, round trip airfare and a really nice hotel – and best of all, as far as Adam was concerned, was the week-long pass to the happiest place on Earth.
Not that Adam really believed it was the happiest place on Earth. He had never actually been to California before, of course, but was confident in his belief that his own home and the surrounding area could give it a run for its money. But still, a week at Disneyland was nothing to be sneezed at.
Seven days, Adam thought, staring out the airplane window (in the seat next to him, Mr. Young worried patiently over the state of the airline’s seatbelts, and on the other side of him, a very fat man was snoring very loudly). You could do a lot in seven days, even taking into account one day to rest.
Seven days...
***
On the first day, they unpacked their bags in the hotel room. Mr. Young wanted Adam to rest – he said the long flight would make the boy tired. Adam knew that this first day wasn’t for resting. He had other plans.
The pass, said the chipper-faced lady at the park entrance, was good for re-entry at any time during that week. Adam got his hand stamped anyway. That was half the fun.
“What ride are you planning to go on first, little boy?” the lady asked, her smile as bright as the sunlight reflecting off the shiny, super-clean pavement.
Adam gave the glossy park map in his hand a cursory glance. Ghosts, ghouls, and spirits of the dead? He was so there.
The attendant on the Haunted Mansion ride was dressed all in green. Adam stood in front of the line and stared at him, wondering who had decided that dark green was a scarier color than black. Shouldn’t black be the scariest color? If you were going to have a haunted house, shouldn’t it be as scary as possible? So why would you dress the workers in green, not black?
“Come on, kid,” the green-clad employee hissed desperately. “You’re holding up the line.”
“This ride’s stupid,” Adam muttered, climbing – alone; no one seemed to question his lack of parental units, perhaps because it was easier for him if they didn’t – into a Doom Buggy.
“I can make way better nights than this.”
The ride, Adam felt, wasn’t particularly interesting. That the skeletons and spirits, goblins and ghoulies, were all fake was pretty obvious, and the shifting coffin lids, shuddering doors, and ectoplasmic waltzers did nothing to pique his interest. There was only one thing that really caught his attention.
Adam knew, because he’d read all about Disneyland on the airplane, that there were nine hundred and ninety nine ghosts in the mansion. Just to be sure, he counted them as he went through – and came up with two extra.
“Can I go on the ride again?” he asked, stepping off the Doom Buggy and onto the slowly moving walkway. The green-clad ride attendant had little choice; faced with Adam Young at his most determined, he let the boy get right back in the front of the queue, despite the grumbling protests from the other holiday-goers. Adam didn’t pay attention. This was important.
Sure enough, the second time around there were still two extra goblins, one fat and one lanky, snuggled into each other’s arms on a gravestone in the middle of the yard at the end of the ride. Adam stared and stared with a great deal of interest at the cuddling duo, hardly aware – or simply not caring – that the ride seemed to have broken down temporarily, and the rest of the riders were complaining quite loudly about this to the hidden cameras.
“Whatchoo lookin’ at, human?” the fat ghoul grumbled after a moment, lifting its face from it’s counterpart. “Ain’t you never seen a couple o’ demons before?”
“Not kissin’ ones, no,” Adam replied calmly, and, leaning far out of his Doom Buggy, he pulled out his camera (Mr. Young had gotten him a disposable camera, just one, for the trip. Adam was going to make a scrapbook to show the Them when he got home, and show ‘em what they were missin’).
Snap.
With a flash that, though strictly prohibited, would never be dealt with, Adam’s photograph was taken, and the ride moved on.
Ligur shook his head, watching the boy’s Buggy slide away in the false night. “What a perv,” he observed. “He really is his father’s son.”
“Shurrup,” Hastur replied, and pulled Ligur back down behind the gravestone.
***
On the second day, Adam went immediately to New Orleans Square, via the – not very interesting, he had to say – train around the park. His destination today was the Pirates of the Caribbean. He was sure this one would be better than the stupid old Haunted Mansion. That thing had been so fake – but then, everyone knew ghosts weren’t really real, or even if they were, they didn’t go ‘round hauntin’ places like that. But pirates, they really and truly existed. Adam was sure of that.
He had to say, he was pretty disappointed with this ride, as well. Oh, sure, the loot was all nice and shiny, and you had to admit the dog with the key in his mouth was pretty funny – especially once Adam reminded the dog that he could, after all, move, and he ran over and dropped the key by the pirates, and they unlocked their prison and escaped. Seeing the other tourists screaming and crying wasn’t very funny, though, so soon as he could, Adam told the pirates to go back in their cell and give the dog back his key.
But the sky looked very cool, with the clouds all moving like that, and the ocean was def’nitely real water – you couldn’t deny that. He took a picture of both, with a couple of the imprisoned pirates posing in the foreground.
***
On the third day, Adam decided to go exploring the island in the middle of that big lake. The map said it was called Tom Sawyer’s Island. He’d read about Tom Sawyer – that kid seemed to have very nearly as many adventures as Adam wanted to, and for a while, the Them practiced rafting up and down the creek, until Wensleydale lost the pole, and their raft – which was made out of cardboard, after all – got too soggy to push around.
The island, though, wasn’t much more fun than the Haunted Mansion or the Caribbean ride had been. He found his way in and around the caves with ease, having made up way more confusing mazes in his games, and there was no fear to be had passing over the rickety bridges. It was, however, he thought at the end of the day, as he stumbled wearily back to his patiently waiting father, probably the only place in Disneyland with real earth, and real plants. That was something worth photographing. Standing on the edge of the raft going back across the lake, Adam leaned out over the water – to the great dismay of the raft driver – and snapped his camera. One fine snapshot of the island, dirt and bushes and all.
***
On the fourth day, Adam realized his mistake. He had wasted more than half his vacation on silly baby rides – roller coasters, that was the way to go if you wanted excitement. Everyone said so, and everyone knew everyone was right.
“What’s the biggest, fastest roller coaster here?” he asked the lady at the entrance (whose smile had, over the last few days and the last several complaints, begun to fade a little).
“Well, we did just re-open Space Mountain. It’s all new, all improved, very exciting – if you’re tall enough to ride it.”
Adam didn’t worry about height requirements. They had never stopped him yet.
But despite the coaster’s long queue of excited holiday-makers, and the speed as they went whipping between the sun, the moon, and the stars, and though some of the planets were cool enough that he even got a few photographs of them, Adam couldn’t help but stifle a yawn as he got off at the end of the ride.
“Just a lot of shiny lights,” he grumbled, “an’ it isn’t even all that fast. Bet I could make the whole universe go a lot faster’n that.”
But it was getting late, and Dad was waiting up for him back at the hotel, so Adam decided to put universe-spinning off until another day.
***
On the fifth day, Adam asked the advice of a little girl who was standing in the ticket line before him.
“The betht wide in the whole pawk?” she repeated, lisping gratuitously. “I wike the thubmawine wide. It’th pwetty. I wike the fisheth.”
After translating her toothless speech, Adam looked at the map and found the ride she probably intended. Submarines and underwater adventures? That sounded like something Anathema would like, even. He decided to go on that ride.
The fact that it had been closed for some time didn’t perturb him at all.
Carefully snuggled into his seat, the only person on the submarine other than the bemused and underpaid ride operator, Adam stared with cynical eyes through the portholes at the so-called pwetty fisheth.
“Those ain’t much like real fish,” he called out. “I thought there’d be – you know – squids and stuff! Real ones!”
“This is Disneyland, kid,” the ride operator said wearily. “The only real animals are the seagulls and sparrows trying to eat your four dollar churros.”
That got Adam thinking. The fish in the sea hadn’t been much good; maybe the birds in the sky?
After spending more money than he should have on a bag of popcorn, and feeding most of it to the gluttonous sparrows, Adam decided that the birds were more likeable than most of the park employees. He got out his camera, and took a picture of two sparrows fighting with a seagull over the last piece of popcorn. Brian’d get a kick out of that.
***
On the sixth day, Adam sat down on a bench at the end of Main Street to think. This was his last day at the park; Mr. Young had put his foot down about overdoing things, even when on holiday, and Adam knew, besides, that the seventh day would have to be for rest. With his last day at the happiest place on Earth, and only a few pictures left on his camera, he’d have to choose a special ride to go on first.
Drawing up everything he’d learned by reading all those books about Disneyland on the airplane coming to the States, Adam looked at his well-worn map and picked out what he felt was the most Disneyish of all the Disneyland rides: Small World.
And after all, he reasoned as his boat passed between the topiary and into the tunnel of squeaky voices, it wasn’t like this one even pretended to be real, so how bad could it be?
Gazing with interest at the colors, the dolls, the attempt at providing a variety of well-presented cultures (not that Adam thought like this, but the book had mentioned something similar), it took the boy a while to notice the couple in front of him on the boat. People were so often unimportant nuisances, especially here, just pests to move out of the way or get in front of in queues, that he hadn’t really paid much attention to them until they got to Spain, when one of the pair laughed and whispered something about inquisitions in the other one’s ear.
They looked familiar. Very familiar.
Adam pulled out his faithful camera and snapped a couple of pictures. He and Pepper had had a bet on about this, and he wanted to be able to prove to her that he’d been right – that angel and that demon had been holdin’ hands, and doin’ more than that, too.
“That’s just not right,” he sniffed, watching them with more interest than the multinational dolls got, “doin’ that in a place where lots of little kids might be watchin’.”
But as they came out from among the varied bewildering human dolls, and passed once more into the land of the topiary animals, he decided he would tear up those two photographs, once the film was developed. Even an angel and a demon deserved their privacy. ‘Sides, the angel smiled at him as they all got out of the boat, and the demon gave him a friendly wink over the top of his sunglasses, and as the pair walked away, arm in arm, Adam could hear them singing the small world song over and over and over again. It was kinda nice, if you thought about it. Maybe this ride hadn’t been so bad.
***
On the seventh day, Adam stayed all day in the hotel room, and he rested. It was his Father’s orders.
***
Then, he was home, and hanging out with his friends once again. Brian laughed over the sparrows ganging up on the sea gull. Wensleydale liked the Mickey Mouse pen Adam had got him as a souvenir. Dog had been pleased just to have his master back again.
Pepper, though unable to deny that Adam had really seen two demons kissing in the Haunted Mansion – there was photographic evidence, after all – was unwilling to believe that the angel and the demon were going around doing the same thing.
“They couldn’t be at Disneyland with you!” she insisted. “And not ridin’ boats snoggin’ and things! It doesn’t make sense!”
But Adam, who had already torn up and thrown away the snapshots – which hadn’t come out very well after all, unlike the rest of his surprisingly excellent examples of photographic genius hitherto untapped – just smiled, remembering the way they’d been singing in two completely different keys, each stubbornly refusing to change, and, looking down at his scrapbook (cleverly titled, by his father, The Happiest Holiday On Earth), he found it good.
Happy Holidays,
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 08:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 08:26 am (UTC)*hearts*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 08:32 am (UTC)The best part was the A/C, of course. Its so perfect. having them on "its a small world" was priceless- Dinseyland's equivelant to the tunnel of love...
And damn it, now the song is in my head.
Oh well, at least I can imagine them singing it off tune :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 10:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 02:45 pm (UTC)It's a world of joy....
*headdesk*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-11 01:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 08:34 am (UTC)thanks!
Mary
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 09:38 am (UTC)Oh and...
On the seventh day, Adam stayed all day in the hotel room, and he rested. It was his Father’s orders.
Loved it. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 10:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 11:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 12:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 01:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 02:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 03:22 pm (UTC)Not to mention that It's a Small World is my favorite ride there and now everytime I think of it I'll think of Crowley and Aziraphale snogging in there.(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 03:55 pm (UTC)This was really cute, a great fic to wake up to this morning.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 04:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-04 05:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-05 05:47 am (UTC)Disneyland's a great setting, too--lots of stressed-out/happy families, fake perfect little world.
This is really wonderful. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 02:58 am (UTC)once Adam reminded the dog that he could, after all, move, and he ran over and dropped the key by the pirates, and they unlocked their prison and escaped
Aww. Wonderful.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 08:38 pm (UTC)Ever seen "Who Framed Roger Rabbit"? I have visions of Adam wanting to visit Toontown for real.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-11 02:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-01 01:17 am (UTC)