Plenty of Nothing

Unarigoe, Page 8

Scottish Cup, Third Round

Morton host Highland League side Deveronvale in the third round of the Scottish Cup today. Deveronvale were the surprise winners of the second round, downing Berwick 4 - 0.

You'll remember that Deveronvale were one of two Highland League clubs invited to play in the Challenge Cup this year. They hosted Stirling Albion and lost 3 - 1.

Deveronvale FC was formed in 1938, out of Banff Rovers and Deveron Valley. They play at Princess Royal Park in Banff, which seats 3800. They have won two Highland League championships, both in the past decade. They are eight-time winners of the Aberdeenshire Cup, most recently this year. They wear red, white and black.

Morton beat Deveronvale 4 - 3 in the second round of the 2002-03 Scottish Cup at Cappielow. Morton won a friendly match 4 - 1 at Banff in 2007.

The world's most expensive sheep is a ram named Deveronvale Perfection (pictured above), which sold for £231,000 in 2009. Morton reportedly paid £200k for Chris Templeman in 2004.

Burton Cummings' first band was named the Deverons. Here they are with "Blue Is the Night". Take it, boys.

The Morton roster could be down as many as nine players due to injuries to, among others, Andy Graham's cheekbone and Fouad Bachirou's toe.

Other matches today: Spartans have been expelled for using an ineligible player in their second round victory over Culter. Culter will now host Partick Thistle. You have to like Auchinleck Talbot v Vale Of Leithen, for the mere fact that it guarantees a non-league team will make the fourth round. Inverurie Locos host Peterhead, and they could win it. Peterhead are having a miserable season and are ahead of only East Stirlingshire, the worst club in Britain. East Stirlingshire play East Fife.

[Morton 5, Deveronvale 1. Morton goals by O'Brien, MacDonald, Jackson, Weatherson and Campbell. Andy Graham did play. Fouad Bachirou did not.]

[Airdrie 11, Gala Fairydean 0. That's a club record for Airdrie United. Peterhead beat Inverurie. Culter tied Partick. East Fife handed East Stirlingshire a manita.]

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 15

 

Point of Departure

 

[ MEMO

 

     From: Executive Producer

     To: Other Executive Producer

     Re: DRG 2nd Season Opening Credits

 

Gul Michael:

 

     I don't know what you were thinking of when you approved the

2nd season story arc but it means huge expense on a new opening

credit sequence that we can only use for four or five episodes. 

This is what I get for going on vacation.]

 

[ MEMO

 

     From: Other Executive Producer

     To: Executive Producer

     Re: Re: DRG 2nd Season Opening Credits

 

Gul Rick:

 

     Don't sweat it.  This was all hashed over weeks ago.  We're

retooling footage from various Star Trek movies: a little matting

and image-reprocessing and we'll have high-quality visual effects

at bargain basement prices.  The opening sequence for episode 015

comes out the beginning of STIV: The Voyage Home.  Wait till you

see how we hide the Probe!]

 

     Stars.  In a combination of the Borg transporter and the

Klingon decloaking effects appear the words:

 

                    Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

 

                         Starring

 

                    Door Repair Guy as

                         Himself

 

                    F. Murray Abraham as

                         Atoth the Tamarian

 

                    With Guest Appearances by

 

                         Jonathan Frakes as

                    Commander William T. Riker

 

                         Max Keeping as

                              Malakod

 

                         Mike Duffy as

                              Barchibod

 

               Former CTV News Anchor Harvey Kirck as

                              Aylmod

               Sportsline Correspondent Bill Bird as

                              Ostabod

 

          Former Global Television News Anchor Peter Trueman as

                              Ral'fi

 

               And a Special Guest Appearance by

                         Harrison Ford

 

                              And a Bear.

 

     While these names appear and vanish in turn a nebula forms

in the far distance in the right-centre of the screen and

gradually changes colour from orange-yellow to indigo and blue. 

At last the credits are done and a dark, cylindrical object

appears from the midst of the nebula.  The object moves

inexorably in our direction, the light of distant stars gleaming

along its scratched and pitted length.  As it passes us we are

able to read the words LABATT MAXIMUM ICE.  A huge gloved hand

closes on it and holds it up to the tinted visor of a space

helmet.  Through the glass, darkly, we make out the features of

Door Repair Guy.  We hear his voice over the communication

channel say:

     "No good.  Cap's too tight.  Try another one."

     In a transporter room on board Starbase 106 a maintenance

man in orange overalls nods to another at the transporter

console.  A transporter beam appears on the transporter pad and

the first maintenance man lobs a bottle of Labatt Maximum Ice

into it.

     The bottle materializes in space in front of the nebula and

moves toward us at the velocity lent it by the maintenance man's

underhand pitch.  This time, however, the sudden exterior

pressure drop is too much for the screw-off cap.  The cap bursts

off in a jet of vapourizing beer, sending the bottle rocketing

across the screen, past Door Repair Guy, away into the distance

along the outer hull of the starbase and on into open space. 

Door Repair Guy twists around and follows it with a tricorder.

     "Good one, guys!"

     *Escape velocity?*

     "Y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-e-e-e-o-o-o-oh!  Not quite!"

     He performs several functions on the tricorder.

     "Expect it back in fifty-seven days, four hours."

     *You'll be here to catch it?*

     "Not me, boys.  Enterprise leaves in two hours."

     At this the leading edge of the Saucer Section appears

beyond the blue-grey duranium horizon.  It grows and swells into

a complete underside view of the Enterprise exiting the

starbase's space doors.  Door Repair Guy turns slowly and watches

the mighty ship cruise off until, when it is small enough to rest

on the end of his index finger, it stops, rotates, and bursts

away in a flash of light.

     He stands there a while, gawking into the void.

     "Computer.  What time is it?"

     *It is fourteen hundred hours*

     "That's four o'clock, right?"

     *You are incorrect.  Fourteen hundred hours is two o'clock*

     "Damn."

 

[Commercial: Timex]

 

     The Federation logo on the public viewscreen is replaced by

an image of an exasperated Commander Riker.

     *Riker here.  What can I do for you?*

     "Uh.  Hi.  It's me.  Door Repair Guy."

     *And?*

     "I missed my flight.  Ah.  Time dilation effect."

     *I beg your pardon?*

     "Time dilation effect."

     *Rapid eye movement effect, more likely*

     "So, ah, like, what do I do now?"

     We see Riker pick up a portable computer pad.

     *According to my records you were transferred from the

Enterprise to Maintenance Division, Starbase 106, two weeks ago

to deal with the faulty space door situation.  All outgoing

traffic, including the Enterprise's departure, was delayed until

you were able to effect repairs, a process which, according to

the base commander, should have taken six to eight hours.  You

were subsequently assigned to space station DS9 and were

allocated guest quarters on board the Enterprise for the first

leg of your journey there.  You were paged continually for the

hour prior to the Enterprise's departure but for some reason your

comm badge was deactivated.  The Enterprise left thirteen days

behind schedule with one passenger missing -- you.  As I am no

longer your commanding officer I am in no position to discipline

you but I am in a position to wonder why you are bothering me. 

As a friend and comrade at arms I can offer you this advice: get

down to Starbase Administration and book passsage on the next

ship out, pronto.  Riker out*

     The star field logo of the Federation pops up again,

reminding Door Repair Guy of the very long distance he has to

figure out how to get across.

 

     Door Repair Guy comes around a corner in the administrative

area of Starbase 106, wearing characteristic work boots, baseball

cap and orange overalls.  He is searching for something.  He

spots a window and walks over.  A woman behind a desk looks up.

     "Where's the Lost and Found?"

     "What have you lost?"

     "My way."

     "Ask the base computer.  There's a terminal right over

there."

     "Wait!  I found something."

     "What?"

     "I found I lost my way."

     She makes that bureaucratic face.  He goes over to the

computer terminal.

     "Computer."

     The computer makes an "Okay, I'm listening" sound.

     "Computer."

     It waits.

     "Computer."

     *I am not programmed to ask you what you want*

     "Ha!  You did anyway.  I need the next ship to the Bajoran

system."

     *Please input security clearance code*

     He looks around, then whispers, "Delta rho gamma let me in."

     *That is a door maintenance lockout override code.  It is

insufficient authorization for access to Starfleet flight

itineraries*

     "GGGrrrrr.  Okay, smarty-pants, where's the bar where the

traders hang out?"

     *There are twelve drinking establishments answering that

description on Starbase 106* 

     "Yeah, but which one serves genuine mud beer?"

     *Ralphie's.  Level fourteen, section seven*

     "Thanks."

     Silence.

     "Thanks."

     More silence.

     "Thanks."

     *I am not programmed to say, "You're welcome"*

     "Ha."

 

[Commercial: Compuserve]

 

     Ralphie's.  Door Repair Guy wanders in, rubbernecking.  At a

table in the far corner is a Tamarian.  Behind the bar is a

Vulcan.  Seated at the bar are a couple of Pakleds.  Everyone

watches him.  He goes to the bar.

     "Genuine mud beer."

     The Vulcan pulls the tap and genuine mud beer begins to plop

slowly into the glass.  DRG watches this in silence for a moment.

     "Top of the barrel."

     The Vulcan nods solemnly and says, "Your beer will be poured

in four minutes, twenty one seconds."

     One of the Pakleds closes a hammy hand on DRG's sleeve and

says, "We came for beer.  We have lost our money.  Will you pay?"

     By process of elimination Door Repair Guy has already

figured out that these are the traders we needs, if anyone in the

room is, so he says:

     "Yeah.  Beer's on me."

     The Pakleds look at each other, squirming with happiness.

     "The beer is on him."

     "He is a real pal."

     They turn to him.

     "You are a real pal."

     "We like you."

     They turn to the barkeeper.

     "We will have Romulan Ale."

     "We like it."

     The Vulcan produces the characteristic glass Romulan Ale

bottle with the electrical-insulator-shaped cap from below the

counter and pours two glasses.  The Pakleds lift the glasses

happily and down the contents.

     "That will be three hundred and two credits."

     "Three hundred for the ale and two for the mud, right?"

     "That is correct."

     DRG pays however it is Starfleet personel pay for things.

     "What's the ETA on the genuine mud beer?"

     "Two minutes and forty-nine seconds."

     DRG turns to the Pakleds.

     "You fellas must have a pretty nice ship."

     The Pakleds look at each other, at their glasses, then at

him.

     "We forget."

     "Yes.  We forget."

     DRG makes a gesture and the Vulcan refills the glasses.  The

Pakleds smile and drink.

     "He is a good friend."

     "Yes."  To Door Repair Guy: "You are a good friend."

     "That will be three hundred credits."

     DRG pays.

     "How's that beer coming?"

     Glop, glop.

     "One minute and fifty-one seconds."

     "Our ship is big."

     "And fast."

     "That's great.  What's it called?"

     The Pakleds look at each other.

     "Big and Fast."

     "Going anywhere soon?"

     "Yes."

     "Yes.  Soon we are going somewhere."

     All eyes turn to the empty glasses.

     "Time."

     "Forty-one seconds."

     "Fill 'er up."

     "I wish he would come with us.  He is a real pal."

     "Yes.  I wish he would come too."

     They drink.

     "Three hundred credits."

     DRG pays.

     Glop.  Glop.

     "Where do you think you'll be going?  Perhaps . . . Bajor?"

     "We like Bajor."

     "Bajor is good.  It is a good place."

     "We like Quark.  He is our friend.  Do you like Quark?"

     "I . . . haven't met him.  Why don't you introduce me?"

     "We could introduce him."

     "Yes.  We could introduce him."

     "So . . . you'll take me to Bajor?"

     The Pakleds exchange looks.

     "I cannot decide.  Can you decide?"

     "I cannot decide."

     DRG makes a hurry-up motion to the Vulcan.  The glasses are

filled.

     "Three hundred."

     He pays.  They drink.  Everyone waits for the answer, even

the Tamarian in the corner.

     "We will take him."

     "Yes.  We will take him."

     The Vulcan places the mud beer on the bartop, but Door

Repair Guy is already out the door.

     "He is in a hurry."

     "Yes.  He likes to go."

     From the corner: "Groucho, his arms full of breeder's

guides."

     The Vulcan, beginning the long process of pouring the mud

beer down the drain: "Fascinating."

 

[Commercial: tootsie-fruitsie ice cream]

 

     Shot of the Big and Fast at warp speed, the stars streaking

past it.  Cut to the interior, specifically a small, cluttered

passenger section heaped with cargo.  There are two passengers in

among the containers, one seated on either side of the aisle.  To

the left sits the Tamarian from the bar.  He is reading _The Hero

With a Thousand Faces_ by Joseph Campbell.  Beside him on the

seat are piled: _The Tale of Genji_ by Murasaki Shikibu, _The

Complete Poems and Prophesies of William Blake_, LaFontaine's

_Fables_, _The Castle of Crossed Destinies_ by Italo Calvino and

_The Big Book of Klingon Bedtime Stories_.  Across the way is

Door Repair Guy spread out over a number of carrier bags, the

peak of his baseball cap pulled down, headphones on his ears, a

portable eight-track player balanced on his chest, reading a

Mighty Thor comic.  "Takin' Care of Business" by Bachman Turner

Overdrive seeps out from the headphones, adding its small

tintinabulation to the aural ambience.  Pakleds lumber by from

time to time intent on some aspect of making the Big and Fast go.

     The Tamarian leans over and taps Door Repair Guy on the arm.

     "Popeye and Wimpey looking into the future."

     "Oh.  Right."

     DRG removes his headphones, shuts off the eight track,

heaves several carrier bags out of the way, unzips one and pulls

out a couple of somewhat flattened food packages.  He tosses one

over.

     A member of the crew tromps up in the middle of the meal.

     "Barchibod is my friend.  He is locked in the bathroom. 

Come and get him out."

     The ship streaks onward.

 

[Bob:

     "Back to Star Trek: Door Repair Guy in just a minute.  You

may have noticed a few changes since last season, not the least

of which is I'm wearing a tie!  Pretty sharp, eh?  And I've got

it on for a very good reason.  Because with me, practically here

on the Bob couch itself, via closed-circuit television, in

Hollywood, is F. Murray Abraham."

     Cut to F. Murray Abraham on a hotel sofa.  He is dressed

casually but smartly (open-necked shirt with cravat) and seated

with his legs crossed and his hands folded on his knee in a

posture that could be interpreted as either friendly or reserved.

     "So, like, F., you're the first Oscar award winner to appear

in Star Trek.  I guess what all your fans are wondering is: has

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy developed such a good reputation that

now even Oscar winners are clamouring to get on it, or is this an

indication that _Amadeus_ was in fact just a fluke and that for

the rest of your career you'll be playing opposite goofs like

Gary Busey?"

     Cut to empty hotel sofa and sounds of shouting off-camera.

     "Well, there you have it.  F. Murray Abraham in Hollywood. 

Back to Door Repair Guy in just a moment."]

 

[Commercial: Chipmunkade.

     "Only pennies a glass, and *I* control the sugar."]

 

     View of the Big and Fast proceeding at warp speed.

     The passenger compartment.  Door Repair Guy is wedged in the

corner among containers and carrier bags, tapping a personal log

entry into his antiquated Tandy laptop.  (And believe you me, it

took him a long time to get it antiquated.)

 

     "Hey, Atoth, what stardate is it?"

     The Tamarian pulls out a dollar and passes it over. 

 

     The Pakled bridge.  Crewmembers lean over a variety of work

stations or trundle about on diverse errands, pausing

occasionally to walk around one another.  An alarm sounds on the

communications console and one of them moves over and

investigates.

     "Malakod.  Somebody is hailing."

     "What do they want?"

     "'What do you want?' says Malakod."     

     Pause.

     "He says, 'We are in distress.'"

     "Ask him, 'Who are you?'"

     "Yes.  Ask him that."

     "Yes.  Ask him who he is."

     "Malakod wants to know, 'Who are you?' So does Aylmod, and

Osbatod."

     Pause.

     "He says, 'We are traders.'"

     "Why are the traders in distress?"

     "That is a good question.  You are smart, Malakod."

     "Yes.  Ask him."

     "Malakod says, 'Why are you traders in distress?'"

     Pause.

     "He says 'Who are you?'"

     "Tell him we are Pakleds.  We look for things."

     "That is a good answer."

     "Yes.  That is a good answer."

     "Tell him that answer."

     "We are Pakleds.  We look for things."

     Pause.

     "He says, 'There is a bear loose on our ship.'"

     "A bear is loose on the trader ship!"

     "We should go and see!"

     "Bears are interesting!"

     "Yes, bears are interesting!"

     "Osbatod, change course!  Aylmod, make us go faster!  We are

going to go and see the bear!"

     View of Pakled vessel changing course and warping off to see

the bear.

 

[Commercial:  Molson Genuine Mud Beer

     Guy throwing baseballs at barn in the middle of the

prairies.  Slow motion shot of the ball curving right in to the

dead centre of the strike zone.

     Voiceover: "When you get it right, when you get it really

right . . . "

     Planet explodes.

     " . . . you know it."]

 

     The Big and Fast falls out of warp.  It coasts up to the

stationary form of the trading ship, a sort of a cylindrical job

with an A-frame superstructure -- the shape is kind of

reminiscent of a killer whale in a way, but not really.  Besides,

it's brown.  A gif would be handy here.  Look, make up your own

mind about how it looks -- though I'll bet the knowledge of the

bear on board influences your thinking and combines with the orca

image to produce a sort of west coast design -- something Haida,

perhaps.  Ooo, that's cool.  Can't wait for the MicroMachine. 

But I'm really just angling you along.  All this description is

nothing but a red salmon, I mean herring.  

     Or is it?

     A corridor inside the Big and Fast.  Pakleds are crowding

toward the transporter room.  Door Repair Guy and Atoth, playing

cribbage on an upturned crate, watch the procession go by.

     "Something's up."

     "Barnum and Bailey, their tents spreading."

     The excited Pakleds jostle into the transporter room and,

group after group, beam over to the other ship.  The transporter

chief steps onto the pad just as Door Repair Guy and the Tamarian

come in.

     "There is a bear."  (Dematerializes.)

     "Hm.  Sounds interesting.  Think we oughta go over?"

     "Penelope on Ithaca, her loom working."

     Door Repair Guy makes a face.

     "Yeah, you're probably right.  I'll bet we can get in

another couple of hands before they want back."

     They hurry off to their game.  The next moment the deserted

transporter activates.  Four figures materialize and step down

off the transporter pad, pointing phaser rifles in all

directions.  They're dressed in a motley assortment of stolen

uniforms, with Billy Idol haircuts and facial tattoos.  Come to

think of it, they remind me of the mutineers in _Mutiny on the

Bounty_, the version with Anthony Hopkins and (gulp) Mel

Gibson!!!  OH MY GOD!!  OH MY GOD!!  MARTHA COME QUICK IT'S MEL

GIBSON THE CREDITS SAID A SPECIAL GUEST APPEARANCE BY HARRISON

FORD BUT LOOK THERE'S MEL GIBSON MAYBE THEY'RE BOTH IN THE

EPISODE I CAN'T BELIEVE IT IT'S INCRED. . . oh.  Oh.  No,

nothing, dear!  They just have somebody who looks like Mel

Gibson!  No, don't bother!  No, don't come in!  It's just

somebody who reminded me of Mel Gibson.  No, that one.  He does

so.  Well, I think so.

     The four intruders fan out through the ship, securing

strategic points and shutting down unnecessary systems.  We watch

shot after shot of them advancing down corridors, checking

deserted compartments, pulling off control panels and activating

door releases, in that kind of shot where the camera stays just

ahead of the advancing actor and the corridor continually slides

away into the background.  One of the bandits hits a light

switch.  Door Repair Guy and Atoth look up as the lights in the

passenger compartment go to sleep setting.  An armed figure

hurries past in the half-light, freezes, and turns back.  Quick

as anything Door Repair Guy picks up the cribbage board and beans

the stranger right between the eyes.  Thud.  The cribbage players

lean over the prostrate intruder.  Hm.  Shocking white hair.  And

cool tattoos.  Kinda snaky in design.

     Intruder commbadge voice: 

     *Alert.  Alert.  Team member down*   

     Two intruders immediately double back toward the downed team

member's coordinates.  The team leader moves on toward the

bridge.

     We see the intruder's inert body slide into a storage

closet.  The two cribbage players emerge and scamper away, armed

with a plenitude of looted phaser weaponry.  They scramble down a

service corridor and around a corner.  The camera catches up to

find them looking this way and that for a way out of the dead

end.  They stop and stare at each other, the beads of sweat

springing off their foreheads.

     "Oh, man."

     "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid at the river gorge."

     The two intruders advance toward the storage closet, pull it

open and discover their comrade.  One of them makes a head motion

and they move down the corridor.  They advance carefully,

covering each other in turns.  They round the corner.  Phaser

fire erupts from a stack of barrels at the end of the corridor. 

The bandits hit the deck and roll for cover, returning fire at

the heap of containers concealing Atoth and Door Repair Guy. 

Streaks of luminous phaser fire crisscross down the length of the

corridor.  Superheated bulkheads burst apart in showers of

sparks.  Acrid smoke fills the nostrils (for those with

smellevision, anyway).  The sound effects department makes a play

for another Emmy nomination.

     A door slides open halfway down the corridor and . . .

 

[ MEMO

 

     From: Executive Producer

     To: Other Executive Producer

     Re: Cameo Appearance, DRG 015

 

Gul Michael:

 

     $150,000 for a four second cameo appearance?

     I'm beginning to regret that vacation more and more.]

 

[ MEMO

 

     From: Other Executive Producer

     To: Executive Producer

     Re: Re: Cameo Appearance, DRG 015

 

Gul Rick:

 

     The big picture:

     1) ET is doing a segment the day before.  Expect total

domination of the time slot.

     2) _Clear and Present Danger_ Meal Deal at Macdonald's tie-

in premieres just before credits.  Accounts Department very

happy.

     3)  We may yet be able to get him to take off his clothes

and stick a hypo in his butt.]

 

     A door slides halfway open and Harrison Ford, in full

Indiana Jones gear, puts his foot out into the corridor.  He

gasps in fright at the deadly crossfire, then casts a glance

directly at the camera, giving us his "Don't worry; I can get out

of anything" grin, and slips back behind the closing door.

     By now the fourth intruder has reached the bridge, located

the helm, taken the slack out of the safety harness, and entered

new coordinates into the navigational computer.  We see an index

finger poise above the warp drive initiator control.

     "O mighty Vaal, the moment of your resurrection is at hand."

     Contact.

     The Big and Fast rotates, elasticizes, and disappears in a

burst of light, leaving the Haida-influenced trader adrift.

 

     Barchibod trudges into the command centre of the orca-shaped

vessel.  Pakleds are standing around, looking at their feet or

poking randomly at the unfamiliar controls.

     "Malakod," he complains, "we cannot find the bear."

     "Maybe it is sleeping."

     "The bear is maybe sleeping!"

     "We will look!"

     "There is another thing, Malakod.  Where is the crew?"

     "Did anybody see the crew?"

     They shake their heads.

     "We did not find the crew."

     "Malakod, perhaps it ate the crew."

     "Perhaps it ate the crew and then it fell asleep."

     "You are smart, Barchibod."

     "We will go and look."

     "Go and look for the bear."

     Everybody but Malakod trundles out.  He looks around the

command centre, scratching the flap of his ear.  He sees a handle

he hasn't tried yet.  He pulls it, opening a large closet.  The

bear awakes and peers out, sniffing the air.  It smells something

it doesn't like.

     "A bear!"

     "GGGGGGRrrrrrrr."

 

[Commercial: 

     _Clear and Present Danger_ Meal Deal at Macdonald's.]

 

[Music.  Credits.]

 

--

Written by Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca)

--

 

Notes on Point of Departure:

Gul Berman and Gul Piller. Emphasize the last syllable of each name. Berman and Piller were the dark and light halves of Star Trek: TNG. I miss Michael Piller.

Contrary to popular belief, the internet is a pretty lousy source for archival imagery. I haven't succeeded in finding any picture of Bill Bird, sports reporter, or a decent one of Peter Trueman, even though he was Global TV news anchor for 14 years, and is obviously a Vulcan.

The name Barchibod is the Pakled version of my middle name.

"Groucho, his arms full of breeders' manuals" is a reference to the tootsie-fruitsie ice cream scene in "A Day at the Races". At this time I was rounding out my collection of Marx Bros. movies on VHS. It'll pay off in a few episodes.

I would gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.

Marginal Road, No. 3

Emperor's Cup, Round Three

Today is the third round of the Emperor's Cup, and they're down to 32 teams. Of the 48 clubs that appeared in Round One, only Fukuoka University and Matsumoto Yamaga FC remain. I'm watching:

Match 62: Montedio Yamagata v Kyoto Sanga FC. As of last weekend Montedio Yamagata stand 17th in the 18-team J-League Division 1 and mathematically they cannot avoid relegation. Kyoto Sanga are 8th in Division 2, but they won the Emperor's Cup in 2002.

Match 65: Gamba Osaka v Mito Hollyhock. Gamba Osaka are 2nd in J1. They won the Emperor's Cup in 1990, 2008 and 2009, the first time as amateurs. Mito Hollyhock, whom I may just have decided have my favourite Japanese club name, sit 16th in J2. Both clubs wear blue and black stripes.

Match 67: Sanfrecce Hiroshima v Ehime FC. Sanfrecce Hiroshima were one of the eight original clubs of the JSL, playing under the corporate name Toyo Industries. They were JSL champions five of the league's first six years, and won the Emperor's Cup in 1965, 1967, and 1969. Ehime are 15th in J2.

Match 69: Cerezo Osaka v Fagiano Okayama. Cerezo Osaka were another original JSL club, known as Yanmar Diesel back then. They won the Emperor's Cup in 1968, 1970 and 1974. Currently they're 11th in J1. Fagiano Okayama stand 14th in J2.

Match 70: Vegalta Sendai v Avispa Fukuoka. It's North versus South. Vegalta Sendai from Tohoku are 8th in J1. Avispa Fukuoka from the island of Kyushu are 16th.

[Japan is 13 hours ahead of Nova Scotia, so the scores come in early. Mito Hollyhock, Matsumoto Yamaga FC, Kyoto Sanga, Vegalta Sendai, Cezero Osaka, Ehime FC advance. Mito Hollyhock 3, Gamba Osaka 2 (aet) is a major upset.]

Unarigoe, Page 7

Shaolin Cricket, Part One

 

     They were arguing about time.

     “Time is a wheel,” said one. “It’s all been done before.”

     “No, no,” said the other. “Time is a road. You never know what’s around the next bend.”

     They turned to Cricket, who said, “Time is a wheel rolling down a road.”

     Comment.

 

     Jake pulls out his cell phone and dials Jacinthe.

     “Listen up. I’m filling out this application for university and there’s an essay question. One guy says time is a wheel, the next one says it’s a road, and then this cricket says it’s a wheel rolling down a road. Comment.”

     “Dude, I thought you were taking geology.”

     “I am, but I have to do this essay question.”

     “So how come there’s a wheel rolling down a road?”

     “An accident, I guess.”

     “Well, there you go. Run with it.”

     “You think if I put the wheel’s rolling down the road because of an accident they’ll let me in?”

     “Dude, it’s meant to be. Hell, get me an application.”

     “Sweet."

     July.

     Professors Wheeler, Rhodenizer and Korogi are drinking single malt whiskey and smoking cigars in the faculty club. The whiskey is from a numbered bottle purchased on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. The cigars are from, well, Mel’s. The faculty club is a hay barn on the Tantramar Marsh. The occasion is the publication by the State University of New York Press of Professor Korogi’s Threads of the Spring Snow Jade, a slender green paperback with the following blurb:

 

Professor Korogi offers a radical (re)vision of the Daoist text, Sayings of the Marsh Mountain, a 17th-century compilation of utterances attributed to the masters of Marsh Mountain Monastery in Jiangsu province. The centerpiece of the monastery was a small tablet, called the Spring Snow Jade, which reputedly had the ability to preserve the spoken word in its crystalline structure. Tradition holds that for nine hundred years each master of the temple stored some statement or question in the stone. Each ‘recording’ was accompanied by a specific identifying musical tag. The monks of Marsh Mountain were practised in the vocal and musical disciplines necessary to elicit particular sayings, and it is thought that some masters employed these techniques to preserve their own words in such a way that they would be nearly impossible to retrieve except by the most learned practicioners. The monastery was burnt by a Qing army in 1649, and the jade lost. Several contradictory versions of the Sayings have come down to us, written from memory by survivors of the siege. Professor Korogi eschews the chronological order of Vati’s magisterial variorum edition, and substitutes another modeled on the thread pattern of an internet newsgroup, finding the text less a collection of maxims than a discussion arranged across nine centuries. The book concludes with the chapter “Topic Drift in the Spring Snow Jade”.

     Professor Wheeler raises his glass: “To the Spring Snow Jade, wherever it is.”

     Professor Rhodenizer, of the geology department, puts down her glass and says, “You know, I’ve just bought a chunk of nephrite online.”

     The others nod sagely. A pause. Crickets chirp.

     “Nephrite being jade.”

     “Oh! Ah!”

     “Yes. It’s an old carven thing. Has a little temple on a hill. The stone is as much white as green. There’s a chemical process I won’t get into. And, strangely, a little vein of copper through it. Quite unusual.”

     “Hm,” says Korogi. “I might like to see that.”

     “I’ll bring it over.”

     “Great.”

     “So,” says Wheeler. “Any more business?”

     Rhodenizer: “They’re moving everything around up on campus. The archive’s going into the fine arts building. Fine arts are going into the university centre. The university centre is going into Trueman House. Trueman House is scattered to the wind. How do we get a piece of that action?”

     Wheeler: “You mean, can we get the Dean to come through with a rainproof faculty club?”

     “Yes.”

     “I’d say, only if someone decides they have a better use for this one. It’s musical chairs.”

     “Yes, the true end of learning is property management.” To Korogi: “Can you think of anything?”

     Korogi: “No. But as soon as I do I’ll let you know.”

 

-------

[Shaolin Cricket by Douglas McLeod will be posted in sixteen parts, each Monday through February (except for two Tuesdays around the holidays). An illustrated version, with drawings by Anne Fizzard, is available to buy.]

Sketches By Shimoku

This post started out as a search for a photograph of Kio Shimoku (木尾 士目), author of Genshiken. It was not successful, because either Google Image isn't as encyclopedic as I thought, or because Shimoku-sensei is camera-shy (I don't know -- he does describe himself as timid in this interview) or maybe just because I don't know enough to pick him out. If you're trying to find out what someone looks like it helps to know beforehand what they look like.

But this is a good portrait of the artist's hands. You can tell it's Shimoku from the signature and drawing both. The artwork is an alternate version of the cover of Genshiken, Volume 6. Instead of cosplaying Renko in school uniform, Ogiue is modeling her swimsuit.

The photo is also a fine portrait because it includes quite a bit of the artist's workspace and pens and stuff. The source is this blog entry, dated February 2007. The sweater dates from the 1990s.

The search for Shimoku turned up two other drawings, both of them sketches from an event on November 27, 2010.

Madarame, from here. And Ogiue, from here.

If I were at a show where Kio Shimoku was selling sketches, which character would I ask for? I have the same birthday and blood-type as Ogiue, but a voice in my head is saying Kugayama. We don't see enough of Kugapii. D

[Update: more shots of Shimoku's hands at this Digopuri signing in Taiwan in 2010.]

[Here's a twist. According to his Japanese language Wikipedia article 'Kio Shimoku' is a pen name.]

The Tail of the Bank

Greenock developed as a port town thanks to its location at the Tail of the Bank, for many years the furthest navigable point up the River Clyde. In this Google Earth screen capture you can easily see the extent of the sandy shoal that underlies most of the width of the river. Cappielow Park, home to the Morton, overlooks it, or would but for the Sugar Warehouse standing between the stadium and the river. (The soccer ground is near the letter 'd' in the word 'Industrial' on the map.) Sugar was a major part of the economic life of the town as late as 1974 when the Greek sugar vessel MV Captayannis broke free during a storm and ran aground on the Bank. The boat is still there in the river, visible as a fingernail paring in the map's upper left quardant. Here's a closeup:

Dundee Football Club visit Cappielow today. Their ship nearly sank last season when they were forced into administration and came very close to being dissolved. So far this season they have bounced around the bottom of the division, and only gained their first home win last weekend against Raith Rovers. These are troubled times for a club that was in the SPL as recently as 2005. Whenever one or both of the Dundee clubs is in financial straits, talk of merger can be heard, but if it's going on now it's drowned out by clamour over the proposed merger of Abertay and Dundee Universities. Even the football clubs are involved in that one. Scotsman headline: Dundee United To Fight University Merger. Oh, wait.

The Beano is published in Dundee. What are the standings in the Dennis the Menace Red and Black Group?

Pohang Steelers have completed their regular season, so the other clubs have until spring to catch up to their 59-point benchmark. There's a playoff at the end of the South Korean season, so the second-place Steelers still have a shot at the title. They were knocked out of the Korean FA Cup in the semifinals, and the League Cup in the quarters.

In other news, Cappielow's Mark Farrel is First Division Groundsman of the Year.

Injury Time. Backup goaltender Matt McGinley broke his hand on his kneecap during practice this week. Dundee lost two players in last week's win. Morton's Sean Fitzharris hopes he's over his hamstring injury.

[Dundee 2, Morton 1. Morton goal by Jackson. Morton are in fifth place with five wins, three draws and five losses. Ross County hold first place by a margin of six points.]

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 14

 

DRG Must Die! Part Two

 

[Bob:

     "Okay!  We're here at SkyDome in Toronto, along with *fifty*

*thousand* fans to watch the season finale of Star Trek: Door

Repair Guy.  And it's such a nice evening they're opening the

roof!  It started moving about ten minutes ago . . . "

     Crazy shot as ENG camera moves around from Bob to the roof. 

It's partway closed (yes, yes, or partway open) and beyond is a

lovely red-tinged sunset sky into which the CN Tower obtrudes.

     ". . . but you know I don't think it has moved at all in the

last couple of minutes.  In fact it appe . . . av . . . uck.  I

ca . . ."  

     By now he's completely drowned out by the capacity crowd's

growling chant of "D-R-G!  D-R-G!  D-R-G!"  He keeps talking into

his handheld mike as suddenly behind him all the fans in that

section rise out of their seats with their arms above their heads

and sit down again.]

 

Two minutes ago on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

 

     Riker turns to the tactical officer.

     "Fire."

 

And now the exciting conclusion:

 

     *mbeep mbeep mbeep*

     "Photon torpedo launch initiator off line, sir."

     "Try backup."

     *mbeep mbeep mbeep*

     "Same story."

     "Damn that Door Repair Guy!  He must have disconnected more

than the door lockout.  Hm, maybe if I reroute the command

channel through atmospheric control.  Try that."

     Computer console view of the tactical officer.  He touches

the console at a number of places where there aren't any keys,

then leans forward and says in a very high voice:

     *mbeep mbeep mbeep*

     He sits back.

     "Still no good, sir."

     "Damn!  So much for the self-sacrificing heroic gesture. 

We'll have to outthink them."

     "I'm confident we can manage that, Commander."

 

[Commercial: Roberto Alomar for McCain's Fruit Punch.]

 

     A corridor in the Enterprise.  A panel has been pulled off

the wall and is smoking and throwing off sparks.  In the middle

of the corridor lies Door Repair Guy, also smoking and throwing

off sparks.

     Superimposed ghost image effect as Door Repair Guy sits up

and out of his own body, stands, and has a look at himself.

     "Uh oh."

     He walks along the corridor.  He sees the heel of a white

sandalled foot disappear around a corner.  He follows it.  The

side corridor is empty except for the tip of a white wing which

disappears around the far corner.

     "Not a good sign!"

     He dashes down the side corridor and comes around the far

corner, stopping suddenly.  Ahead of him stretches a hallway

lined with white, waving drapery.  A strong white glow emanates

from the hallway's far end, within which he can just make out the

walking form of a winged biped.

     "Oh great, the light at the end of the tunnel!"

     A large yellow dog pads up to him, wagging its tail.

     "Oh swell, the travelling companion!"

     Together Door Repair Guy and the dog proceed down the

curtained hallway.  They come to an ascending staircase.

     "Hm.  This is a good sign, everything considered."

     He climbs it.  The dog lies down at the bottom step.  ("So I

can break my neck when they kick me out," thinks DRG as he stomps

upward.)

     At the head of the stairs is a landing, and beyond that a

set of wrought-iron gates.

     "The Pearly Gates!"

     Seated on a stool with his chin in his hand and his elbow on

his desk is an old bearded fellow in flowing white robes.

     "So, like, you'd be Saint Peter?"

     "I am."

     "So, you gonna let me in?"

     "I cannot."

     "Huh?  Why not?"

     "The computer's down."  Peter indicates the terminal next to

his elbow.  "You'll have to come back another time."

     "Gee.  That's too bad.  Well.  Bye!"

     "Wait!"

     Door Repair Guy climbs back up the eight steps he's already

travelled.

     "Do you know anything about computers?"

     "Ah . . . no."

     "Wait!"

     DRG climbs up again.

     "How are you with hinges?"

     "Not bad, I guess.  I didn't bring any tools."

     "Can't you have a look at it?"

     "Well . . . okay."

     He hunches down and eyeballs one of the lower hinges, then

peers up at the other.  He does the same for the other pair.  He

walks inside and stands between the two gates, swinging them

forward and back with his two hands.  Peter stands outside,

following each part of the examination with a worried look.

     "They're a bit stiff.  Do you have any WD40?"

     "We have unguent."

     "That'll do."

     Peter brings some unguent and Door Repair Guy smears it on

the hinges, then stands between the gates and swings them to and

fro as before.  Peter stands outside, watching and listening

attentively.

     "That's much smoother."

     "I'll say."  He gives both gates a good push and they come

together with a satisfying click between him and Saint Peter.

     "Well.  Until next time, I guess."

     Peter waves, smiling, until he realizes he's on the outside

and Door Repair Guy's inside.

     "Ha!  Joke's on you!  Now you have to grant me a wish."

     "I do not!  You made that up!"

     "Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't.  I don't see that it

changes the situation."

     "Grrrrr.  I've got friends on the inside, you know."

     Door Repair Guy stands there with his hands on the bars,

looking a little nervous now.

     "Grant me a wish anyway."

     "An archangel could come along at any moment, you know."

     "Well, then, he'd see what a fool you are, wouldn't he?"

     "O-o-o-h!  All right.  What's your wish?"

     "Hero of the day."

     "All right, but I choose the day."

     "I choose the day."

     "All right!  Granted!  Open up!"

     DRG opens up.

     "Now scram!"

     DRG's already halfway down the stairs.

     "But you trip on the dog."

     Crash!  Yelp!  Bark bark!

 

[Commercial:

     Canadian Airlines, the one with the autographed airplane. 

When the jet comes in over the roof of the hanger, life-sized on

the JumboTron, everyone goes:

     "Wa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah!!!!!"]

 

     Back in the corridor in the Enterprise.  Door Repair Guy

sits up, swaying.

     "Whoa!  This near-death experience stuff is hard on the

system.  I'm hungry!"

     He uses his door maintenance override to enter a nearby room

and returns again with a quart of vanilla yogurt.  He strolls

along the corridor, gulping big spoonfuls of it, when who should

he meet walking the cat, well, holding it by the tail, but Armus.

     "RRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!  AT LAST, A HUMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!"

     DRG jackrabbits.

     "RRRR!!!  YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME!!!!"

     DRG hightails it round a corner and into a side-corridor. 

He runs up to a turbolift door and waits.

     "Come on.  Come on.  Come on."

     Then he notices the red light on the control panel.

     "Car out of service."

     He dashes for a nearby door just as Armus rounds the corner.

     "RRRRRR!!!!  REVENGGGE ISSS MINE!!!!  RRRRR!!!"

     The door begins to close behind DRG but Armus gets an oily

limb through it and forces it open.

     DRG hits a key on his Borg keyboard implant: ESC.

     *Fzzt*

     "Not Fragile!"

     Armus advances.

     "I WILL SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF YOUR INSSSIGNIFICANT HUMAN

FORM!"

     DRG throws chairs, tables, computer consoles and anything

else he can at the advancing creature.  At last he is cornered

with only one option remaining.  He throws the vanilla yogurt.

     "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!  I'M MELLLLLTTTING!!!

     Armus melts.  Spot drops to the floor and begins to lap up

the yogurt.

     "Oh, that's gross."

 

     "Captain, I'm picking up an object in orbit near the

Enterprise.  It's about two metres in length and constructed

primarily of metallic alloy and silicon-based compounds."

     "Could it be some kind of torpedo casing?  On screen."

     "Holy mackerel!  It's Data!"

     "Lock on and beam him aboard!"

     Transporter effect as Data is transported onto the floor of

the yacht.

     Geordi leans down and touches Data's shoulder, but pulls his

hand quickly back.

     "Wow!  That's cold!"

     Frost is now forming all over Data.  Nevertheless he manages

to say:

     "C-c-c-aptain, L-l-l-ore an-n-n-d Armus h-h-h-ave c-c-ontrol

of the sh-ship an-n-nd are p-p-p-planning to at-t-t-ack the g-g-

g-g-g-"

     "The gaggle!  Plot an intercept course!  If we have to,

we'll ram them!"

     "Aye, Captain."

 

     The bridge.  Lore is doing a sort of two-step around the ops

and helm chairs, inputting commands and singing an original

composition about photon torpedoes.  On the main viewscreen is an

image of the completed lifeboat gaggle afloat against the curve

of the planet below.  He's building up to the grand finale:

     "And . . . now . . . they're . . . armed!"

     Behind his back we see a Borg personal transporter effect.

     He turns and sees Door Repair Guy.

     "So-o-o-o-o, come to see the big light show?"

     "A-a-a-w, you mean I missed the dance number?"

     "You're pretty smart, you measly goody-two-shoes human.  Are

you going to lecture me on how wrong it is to be so bad?  You

humans make me sick with your moral humbug."

     "I really wanted to see that dance number."

     Lore gives him a look.  "You're as odd as that lubricated

cat-lover."

     "Well, you're no John Travolta."

     "What do you mean I'm no John Travolta?"  He accesses

furiously with an annoyed look on his face.  He finds the file

and his face breaks into a smile.

     "Oh, you mean, this?"

     He points with both index fingers, spreads his feet, lays

one hand against his hip and extends his other arm above his

head, indicating the ceiling.  As quick as lightning Door Repair

Guy draws a ball-peen hammer from his belt and precision-throws

it, bouncing it off Lore's off-switch.  Lore looks stricken,

teeters, and falls, stiff as a board in the posture of John

Travolta on the cover of "Saturday Night Fever".

     Riker, Ursula and the tactical officer burst out of the

turbolift, phasers firing.

     "Hey!"

     Door Repair Guy dives and eats rug.

     Picard comes on the viewscreen, saying: "Surrender at once

or face immediately destruction."

     Riker tugs his uniform and smiles, "We surrender."

 

[Commercial:

     "New in July: the Klingon Network.

          Join Krong and Bupokh for `Klingon Flyfishin''.

          `Yep, that's a big one.']

 

     The Enterprise in orbit.  Shuttlecraft can be seen moving

between the diminishing gaggle and the saucer section, towing

lifeboats back toward several dozen spacesuited figures on the

saucer surface who are carefully fitting the vessels back into

their berths.

     Troi and Doctor Crusher walk along a corridor full of busy

cleanup crews.  They both have their hair in braids, and look a

bit like they've just come back from camping out.  Dweenie and

Clarabelle come skipping along past them, their hair also done up

in braids.

     Dweenie: "Thank you for doing our hair."

     Clarabelle: "We look very elegant."

     Troi, laughing: "So you do."

     Deanna and Beverly continue on their way, followed by Worf

and Alexander.

     "Father, are you going to keep your hair like that?"

     Worf shakes his head No, the dreadlocks flying.

     Picard and Riker walk by.  Picard is saying:

     "Of course the court martial will have to proceed; however,

in light of recent events, I cannot see any possible alternative

to acquittal, for you and for . . . what is his name?"

     "It slips my mind.  But I'm sure he'll be glad to hear the

news, whoever he is."

     Geordi and Data come along next, Data holding up a tricorder

and obviously pursuing some reading.  He stops and peers down a

crowded side-corridor, and exclaims when he finds what he has

been looking for.

     "Here, Spot.  Poor pussycat.  Your fur is a mess, is it not? 

What an unhappy cat."

     Data holds the grimy feline at arms' length.

     "My only problem now is to decide how best to clean my cat. 

Have you any suggestions, Geordi?"

     Geordi frowns and looks at the cat from a number of angles.

     "Spot remover?"

     "MREOW!"

     The oily tail disappears around the corner.

 

[Commercial: 

     That catfood commercial where the cats accelerate into

orbiting electrons.]

 

     The bridge.  Picard is in the command chair, with Riker and

Troi on either hand.  Worf is at tactical, Data at ops.

     "Bridge to Engineering.  Status report, Mr La Forge."

     *La Forge here, Captain.  All systems back on line.  We've

run a level one diagnostic.  There's nothing wrong with this ship

beyond a few stuck doors*

     "Would you like to stop off at a gaseous moon to top up the

deuterium tanks?"

     *Not necessary, Captain.  As long as the wormhole gets us

within fifteen thousand light-years of the Federation we'll make

it to starbase on present reserves.  Besides, too much of that

homebrew and we could develop knock and ping*

     "We can't have that.  Stand by to go to warp.  Picard out. 

Mr Worf, are all the lifeboats stowed and escape hatches

secured?"

     "Yes, Captain.  However, it will be some time before the

lifeboats are totally reprovisioned.  The milk chocolate bars

proved particularly popular."

     Troi screws up her face and makes a fist at him.

     "Mr Data, have you been able to complete your review of the

wormhole records?"

     "Yes, Captain.  When viewed at a rate of ten nanoseconds per

second the records reveal an elaborate system of directional

indicators."

     "Can you put that on screen?"

     "Affirmative."

     On the viewscreen the planet Petrus is replaced by a stop-

action replay of the wormhole passage.  As a digital time index

counts away in the corner the twisting light-filled wormhole

creeps forward step by step.

     "We are watching the wormhole record of the Borg/Saucer

confederation.  In eighty nanoseconds recorded time, or eight

seconds viewing time, the Borgoprise will exit the wormhole. 

Please observe the upper right-hand corner of the screen."

     The wormhole advances segment by segment, veering and

turning slightly.  As we watch, a large green arrow with the

words LAST EXIT appears and passes by.  Moments later there is a

brilliant flash and the blackness of intergalactic space replaces

the wormhole.

     "It's really quite straightforward, isn't it?"

     "Yes, Captain.  I have programmed the navigational controls

to react to directions of this sort and to take the first off-

ramp that promises to lead to Federation space."

     "Helm, take us into the wormhole, warp two."

     The Enterprise elasticizes and disappears in a burst of

light.

     "Coming up on the wormhole now, Captain.  Three, two, one,

entering wormhole now."

     Special effects as wormhole blossoms.  The blue and orange

entrance gives way to a twisting light-filled tunnel like some

sort of cosmic rabbit warren.  As the tunnel walls zoom by,

lights curve along with the Enterprise.  Other travellers? 

Space-time phenomena?  Angels?  Intergalactic chipmunks?

     Data reports:

     "We are now passing numerous off-ramp indicators.  It is

reasonable to assume that we have entered some galaxy."

     Riker and Picard exchange glances.

     "But which one?"

     Suddenly the viewscreen whites out.  As the light fades,

stars come into view, not just two dozen, but millions and

millions.

     "Full stop.  Where are we, Mr Data?"

     "Navigational sensors reporting now.  We are within

Federation space, three point two six light-years from the Ceci

N'est Pas Une Pipe Nebula.  Starbase 106 is eight hours two point

three five minutes away at warp five."

     "Helm, lay in a course for Starbase 106.  Warp . . . eight. 

Engage."

 

[Commercial:

     "Coming in July: the Klingon Network.

          Laugh with the zany Kruge family in `At Home with the

Klingons'.

          `Sweetheart, I'm home!'

          Headbutt to the bridge of the nose.

          `You did not take out the garbage!'

          Yes it's family violence on `At Home With the

Klingons'.]

 

     The planet Rhadamanthos III looms red and jasper against the

starry sash of the Milky Way.  [SkyDome crowd: "Oooo".]  As we

watch, the blue sparkling space-city called Starbase 106 rolls

into the shot.  [SkyDome crowd: "Aaaah".]  The starbase's mighty

space doors rotate into view.  The camera moves in on space-dock

approach vector.  Slowly the space doors move toward the centre

of the screen, opening as we approach.  We pass through. 

Starships are docked at intervals within the interior volume of

the cavernous `roundhouse'.  We see Indomitable, a sister of the

famous Excelsior; Fortinbras, one of the comparatively rare

Elsinor class; Argo, unmistakeable with large intelligent eyes

painted on the upper forward face of its saucer; and, as we come

around, the Enterprise, NCC-1701-D.  We move up to the

Enterprise, approaching the forward edge of the saucer section. 

Now we're close enough to make out individual people through the

windows.  Hey, they're having a party in Ten Forward!

     Indeed they are.  Captain Picard stands with a flute of

champagne in one hand.  He is entertaining a small attentive

group with a story he has been saving up for an occasion just

like this.

     "So the Admiral said, `Do you think that time travellers

will make another attempt to secure the Tox Uthat?'  Well, what

could I say, she'd virtually tied my hands.  I put the

shuttlecraft on autopilot, turned, and said, `Frankly, Admiral,

I'd consider that a Vorgon conclusion'".

     When he has finished laughing and his eyes have uncrinkled

he notices there is no one there except a rather sceptical-

looking Guinan.

     "Guinan.  I haven't seen you for a while.  Where have you

been keeping yourself?"

     "Right here.  Serving drinks.  You can't imagine how popular

Canadian beer is among the Borg."

     "Really?"

     They move toward the windows.

     "The last time we spoke you were considering retirement."

     "Yes, I suppose I was.  That seems quite a while ago now."

     Picard gazes out the window at the nearby shape of the

docked Fortinbras.

     "So?"

     "I beg your pardon?"

     "Are you going to retire?"

     "Oh, good gracious, no."

     "So why then and not now?"

     "Well, look at all we've learned.  We find that the galaxy

is bound together by wormhole superhighways.  We've learned that

the Borg can settle down and go to work for a living.  And,

perhaps most importantly, we've discovered that no matter how far

we travel we can never be sure that chipmunks haven't got there

ahead of us."

     Worf and Doctor Selar stroll by, deep in personal

conversation.

     "One simply does not know what new wonder will be added

next."

     "Hm.  I guess there have been a few changes."

     She looks over in the direction of the bar where Riker is

holding court.  He's saying:

     "Frankly, Admiral, I'd consider that a Vorgon conclusion."

     Peals of laughter.  Riker stands there smiling and stroking

his beard.  

     Picard: "Guinan, do you know, I've been thinking about the

events of the last weeks, and I wonder if there isn't a lesson in

here somewhere if we only look."

     "Oh yes, and what might that be?"

     "Well, as I stand here, observing Commander Riker score

social points with my joke, I am experiencing a certain degree of

discomfort and, I must confess, jealousy.  I really wish I had

his ability to control circumstances with humour.  But, in the

light of recent events I'm forced to admit that it is simply

unreasonable to expect to be able to have control at all times. 

I was planning to take early retirement purely because I was

infuriated at the fact that I hadn't been told some petty

bureaucratic secret.  Imagine giving up all this -- the entire

cosmos, if you will -- because of a tiny thing like that."

     "So . . . you're going to be a little less controlled in

future, is that what you mean?"

     "Yes, precisely.  At the end of Shakespeare's comedies there

is usually a dance, and even the Duke joins in."

     "Well, Duke, what are you proposing?"

     Picard thinks about what he's saying for a moment, and then

raises his voice:

     "Remove the tables!  Computer, Russian music!"

     The crowd forms a wide, curious circle, and as the

balalaikas strike up, Picard begins a spirited Cossack dance. 

Soon everyone has linked arms and is joining in.  Word quickly

spreads and curiosity seekers start to crowd into the bar. 

Guinan can be seen craning and counting heads.

     "Hey, we're exceeding fire regulations!"

     She grabs Worf as he bobs and kicks past.

     "What is it, Guinan?"

     "Worf, we need extra security on the door!"

     "Very well.  I'll send up three extras.  Worf to Security."

     Guinan slumps into one of the abandoned chairs pushed up

against the windows, amazed once again at the power of

suggestion, and finds herself seated across the table from

Counsellor Troi and a large chocolate sundae.

     "Is that your first?"

     "Third."

     "Better get out there," indicating the dance floor.

     She puts her chin in her hand.

     "No partner."

     "Ah."

     Guinan looks around the room and spots Riker and Security

Guard Ursula dancing by, clearly building up to a big date.  Over

to one side of the room Doctor Selar is running her fingers

through Worf's hair and whispering in his ear.  Or is that what

she's doing?  They seem to be of one mind about it, whatever it

is.  And now Picard is escorting Doctor Crusher out onto the

dance floor.

     "It does seem to be a pairs' finals.  Oh well, all's fair in

. . . ."

     "Don't even say it."

     "Well.  There's always that door repair guy."

     "Please!"

     "Where is that little rascal, anyway?"

     "Transferred.  Some technical problem at the starbase."

     Space.  The camera pans across the starfield and arrives at

the outer surface of the Starbase 106.  We see the huge space

doors, which have somehow managed to become stuck halfway open. 

A tiny figure in space suit and magnetic boots trudges across the

metal surface of the space station toward them, lugging a toolbox

and a twenty pound sledgehammer.  Low-level muttering and

swearing can be heard on the communications channels.

     [Music soars.  Credits.]

 

[Bob:

     Wipes away tear.

     "Oh, jeez, I always get emotional at endings like that. 

What a great show.  I'll remember this for . . ."

     The SkyDome crowd roars.

     "Oh!  There's more!"

     On the JumboTron screen is a huge Cardassian head peering

down disdainfully at the assembled.  From the Ralph Lauren shirt

and Vuarnets it can be only one man: the Executive Producer!

     "Puny humans, did you imagine that my works were yet

complete?  To date you have netted my company $90 billion clear

profit.  But it is not enough!  Sales of Door Repair Guy action

figures have been sluggish.  Today, I announce the release of the

next four figures: the Antipodean, Saint Peter, the Green Party

fundraiser, and the lascivious Darryl.  But they won't ship until

current inventories are depleted!  Furthermore, the soundtrack

album is now out, featuring the music of Level 42, the Average

White Band, the Doobie Brothers, and many more.  Available at all

Sam's outlets!  And look!  Collector cards too numerous to count! 

So get out there!  What else.  Oh yes, the program has been

renewed.  Executive Producer out."

     Looting and rioting on Yonge Street.]

 

--

Written by Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca)

--

 

Notes on DRG Must Die! Part Two.

 

And so ends Season One.

See, DRG has an ending. It's just at the end of episode 14 instead of episode 54.

I don't think I knew I was going to continue with DRG until the Executive Producer's announcement about the show's renewal.

Patrick Stewart played the Russian spymaster Karla in "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy".

Sam the Record Man. 

Looting and rioting on Yonge Street, May 1992.   World Series celebration October 1992.