Plenty of Nothing

Unarigoe, Chapter 3, Page 1

It's My Partick And I'll Cry If I Want To

The Directors' Lounge, Charles Rennie MacIntosh Stadium.

Morton travel to Firhill Stadium today to try to put the ball in the Partick Thistle goal. Partick have won both previous meetings by a combined score of 7 - 1. At the moment Morton are above Partick in the table, but a Thistle win today would change that.

Charles Rennie MacIntosh was Glasgow's, and Scotland's, greatest architect, and a member of the human race's greatest generation, the folk born in the 1860s. Charles Rennie MacIntosh Stadium is actually a lie I just made up, but wouldn't it be great?

Largs Thistle host Kelty Hearts in the fifth round of the Scottish Junior Cup. [I've just learned from Twitter that the blogger of My Football Travels is traveling to this one, so I'll link to his report once he writes it.] [Largs win 2 - 1 and move on to the quarterfinals!]

Earlier today Pohang Steelers of South Korea (and the Dennis the Menace Red and Black Hooped Group) played Chonburi FC of Thailand in AFC Champions League action. [And won.] [Persipura Jayapura, a red and black striped team, unfortunately lost.]

Among the creditors who have found themselves in a position to be seriously screwed by Rangers going into administration are Swedish club GAIS and Dunfermline Athletic. Dunfermline give the impression of a club that would be relieved to get back to the less expensive SFL next season. [They tie Inverness CT 1 - 1. Most likely either Dunfermline or Hibs will be relegated at season's end.]

Ayr United might occupy last place in the table but they are the only First Division team to make it as far as the quarter-finals in the Scottish Cup this year. They beat Falkirk 2 - 1 on Wednesday. They will host Hibernian in March. They made it to the Scottish Cup semi-finals in 2002, the same year they got to the League Cup finals. [They tie Ross County 1 - 1.]

On that note, what has been the highlight of the 21st century so far for each of this year's First Division clubs?

Ayr: League Cup finalists 2002.

Dundee: Scottish Cup finalists 2003.

Falkirk: Scottish Cup finalists 2009.

Hamilton: promoted to SPL 2008.

Livingston: won League Cup 2004.

Morton: promoted to First Division 2007.

Partick: promoted to SPL 2002.

Queen of the South: Scottish Cup finalists 2008.

Raith Rovers: First Division runners-up 2011.

Ross County: Scottish Cup finalists 2010.

Aye, awright, and what has been the low point of the 21st century for each?

Ayr: finished 8th in Second Division 2005.

Dundee: relegated from SPL 2005.

Falkirk: denied promotion to SPL 2003.

Hamilton: demoted to Third Division 2000.

Livingston: insolvency and demotion to Third Division 2009.

Morton: demoted to Third Division 2002.

Partick: finished 5th in Second Division 2000.

Queen of the South: finished 9th in Second Division 2000.

Raith Rovers: finished 7th in Second Division 2006.

Ross County: relegated to Second Division 2007.

On the face of it Morton are the least accomplished of the bunch. Other clubs have had highs and lows, but with Morton it's mediums and lows.

[Partick fans seem to be pleased about Rangers' difficulties. They were cheering the halftime score Rangers 0 - 1 Kilmarnock.]

[FT Partick 0 - 0 Morton. The Ton slip to fifth. Still ahead of the Jags though.] [Killie beat Gers.]

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 28

 

Renewal

 

                The following programme contains

               strong language and adult situations.

               Parental discretion is advised.

 

The blackness of space.

Fade in the words:

 

                    Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

 

Fade to black.

Voiceover (continues through subsequent fade-ins):

 

     "Crawlspace: the final frontier.  These are the voyages of

the Door Repair Guy.  His mission: to install and maintain

proximity-activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new

service conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has

gone before."

 

Fade in the word:

 

                         Starring

 

Fade to black.

Fade in the words:

 

                    Door Repair Guy as

                         Himself

 

Fade to black.

Fade in the words:

 

                    Gary Shandling as

                         Gul Piller

 

Fade to black.

Fade in the words:

 

                    Rip Torn as

                         Gul Berman

 

Fade to black.

Fade in the words:

 

                    The Cast of Deep Space Nine as

                         Themselves

 

Fade to black.

Fade in the words:

 

                         And a Bear.

 

[Commercial: "muD" ("l'Ambiance")

     "muD: New World blood wine made the Home World way."]

 

     A busy corridor at Paramount.  Gul Berman leans out of his

office and shouts down the corridor toward Reception:

     "Madeline, my sweet, we're out of coffee filters!"

     Gul Piller jostles his way along the corridor reading a

piece of mail.  Gophers with wheeled carts dodge past him.

     Berman: "Top o' the morning to ye, me lad.  And to what do

we owe . . ."

     Colm Meaney walks past and gives Berman a narrow look.

     "And to what do we owe this unexpectedly early appearance?"

     Piller looks up from his letter.

     "Huh?  Oh, nothing.  Just a meeting."

     "What about?"

     "Nothing."

     "Ah, so young, and so full of bullshit.  It's got to be

something good to drag you in here" (he consults his Rolex with a

flourish) "on the sun-up side of eight-oh-five."

     "It's nothing, okay?  A story meeting with the Voyager

staff.  They want to know what to do with all the French

references in the pilot."

     "Leave 'em in!  That'll serve Mademoiselle Genevieve

Twoshoes.  Walk off my set!  You can be damned sure she'll never

sit in a Captain's chair again!"

     "You know, don't tell anyone, but I heard she was doing B5."

     "No!  Those backstabbing . . . !  Say, maybe if I drop a

word in the ear of one of Spielberg's people we can get her

buried alive on Earth 2."  He grins like an alligator at the

thought.  "So what has a fella to do to get some mail around

here?"

     Gul Piller puts the letter behind his back.

     "You might check your In tray."

     "Is that where you got that?  I seem to recall your

secretary is in the other direction."

     "No.  It was under my windshield wiper."

     "You took it from my In tray.  You're in cohoots with that

Madeline, aren't you?  Don't lie to me."

     "No.  Lie to you?  Listen to yourself."

     "That's my mail."

     "I . . .  Will you listen to yourself?"

     "That's my mail.  Give it to me.  I fought in Korea."

     "You can stand there and tell me I steal your mail?  After

all the . . .  Can you believe what you're saying?"  He looks at

the letter.  "Oh, my God.  It *is* your mail.   What an

incredible . . .  Somebody's got to do something about the mail

service around here.  No wonder Generations got out.  I'm going

to talk to Security."  He begins to slip away.

     "Give me that."  Berman grabs the letter and slams the

office door behind him.

     A moment later he emerges again.  "Shit!"  He looks at the

letter again.  "Shit!"  He storms down the corridor.

     "Which way did he go?"

     Madeline and Colm Meaney straighten up.

     "Who?"

     The Gul gives them an evil look and heads off to the set.

     Meaney: "Gobshite."

     "I heard that, and no, you can't have eight weeks off to

film that haycart!"

     "It's a van!"

     Gul Berman crosses the parking lot to Stage 17.  The

security guard admits him.  Berman takes him by the shoulder and

crushes his hand.

     "You're doing a wonderful job!"

     He barrels along the backhand side of several sets.  He

passes by one of the door-opening grips.  He grabs his hand.

     "Great work on Generations!"

     He reaches the bar set.  They're blocking a scene.

     Morn holds up his hand to ask a question.

     "You want me to take a drink, but what's my motivation?"

     Jonathan Frakes: "You're in love."

     "Oh.  I see that.  Okay."

     "Superior directing, Jonathan!  Have you seen Piller?"

     "I heard he was heading for Makeup."

     "Excellent.  One door in, one door out!"  He charges off

toward Makeup.

     Frakes leans back and crinkles up the skin around his eyes.

     "Some day that'll be me."

     Berman barrels along one of the Paramount lot streets.  He

reaches a trailer, yanks open the door, and shouts, "I've got you

now, you little weasel!"

     An extra in full Selayan regalia steps down, giving Berman

the evil eye.  They circle around each other.  Berman climbs up

and looks in.  The makeup people are processing Bajorans.

     "Anyone see Gul Piller?"

     They all shake their heads.

     Gul Berman steps out of the trailer and rubs his chin. 

There's an mass expulsion of held-in breath in the trailer.

     "That's the fastest Selayan I've ever done."

 

[Commercial: Salon Selective]

 

     The editor of the official Door Repair Guy magazine is

interviewing Door Repair Guy in the offices of the publicity

department of Paramount Studios.

     DRGM: "The Nielsen ratings have not been as good this year

as they were for your first season.  Do you attribute this to the

switch from the Enterprise to Deep Space Nine?"

     DRG: "No.  It's just a practical joke.  I spoke to Leslie

about it and he said he'd lay off next season."

     DRGM: "Hm.  So far there has been no sustained love interest

for your character.  Do you anticipate any sort of movement in

that direction on the part of the writers?"

     DRG: "Well, there was that Klingon gal in 'Stomping Ground'. 

She's a regular on _American Gladiators_.  We went out the night

we wrapped that episode."

     DRGM: "You went out?  How did that go?"

     DRG: "I'm feeling much better now."

     DRGM: "What about next season?"

     DRG: "I don't know why they haven't paired me up with Terry

Farrell.  She hangs out with Ferengi."

     DRGM: "And Klingons."

     DRG: "And Klingons, you're right.  But she also likes lost

composers.  So she should see my eight-track collection."

     DRGM: "What have you got there?"

     DRG: "I designed it.  It's a garage door opener."

     DRGM: "Looks like a Type 2 phaser."

     DRG: "Cool, isn't it?  I'm trying to get it licensed but

guess who says it's not authentic."

     DRGM: "Gul Berman!"

     DRG: "Good guess!  That lowdown good-for-nothing snake-oil

salesman.  I have half a mind . . ."

     DRGM: "No, I mean, Gul Berman is standing behind you."

     DRG twists around and jumps to his feet.

     Berman: "I agree with you 100 percent.  I mean about the

part about having half a mind."

     DRG: "I was just telling this guy about the big third season

story arc."

     Berman: "It'll be the golden arches for you if you spill any

more plotlines.  Loose lips sink ships!  Got it?"

     The receptionist: "So, who's goin'a fix the photocopier?"

     Berman stares down Door Repair Guy, who picks up his toolbox

and heads into the adjoining photocopy room.

     Berman to DRGM: "Now, don't get the idea we have anything

against the press here at Star Trek: Door Repair Guy!  Everything

that's said is in good fun!"

     DRGM: "I was actually waiting for Terry Farell when he

walked in.  Is it true he started out as a grip on _T.J.

Hooker_?"

     Berman: "He operated the doors on Next Generation for five

years.  Seasons one, three, four, five and six."

     DRGM: "What about season two?"

     Berman: "No one knows."

     In the photocopy room DRG runs into Terry Farrell.  She's in

her Dax makeup and uniform making photocopies on the one

functioning machine.  DRG pulls a panel off the other

photocopier, crouches down, and scratches under his chin.

     TF: "They make you fix photocopiers too?"

     DRG: "It's in my contract."

     TF: "Look.  Here's my agent's card."

     DRG: "That is my agent."  

     TF: "Yikes!"

     DRG: "What are you copying?"

     TF: "The Jadzia Dax Fan Club bulletin.  It's called _Trill

of a Lifetime_.  Isn't that great?"

     DRG: "Very cool!  My one's called _MYFF_."

     TF: "MYFF?"

     DRG: "Mind your . . . ah, fingers."

     TF: "Mind your fingers?"

     DRG: "First Law of Door Repair."

     TF: "I see.  What does the extra F stand for?"  

     DRG: "It would be impolite to say."

     TF: "Oh."

     The conversation peters out and DRG gets to work on the

broken copier.  He tinkers with it for a while, then stands back,

lifts up his ball cap, and scratches his head.

     "I can't find anything wrong with this.  Who called it in?"

     "Company lawyer.  They're suing a fan for using the word

Enterprise in a novel, and he wanted to make a copy of the

story."

     "O-o-o-o-h, well, there's the problem.  This is a Canon

copier."

     "Ah!"

     A moment's silence, punctuated by the sound of Dax's

photocopier.

     TF: "I wonder what they're doing out there."

     They both glance through the glass window set over the

malfunctioning photocopier.  In the next room Gul Berman is

lecturing the editor of the official Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

magazine (not to be confused with _MYFF_, the Door Repair Guy fan

club magazine) who is taking copious notes.  Gul Berman is

leaning against some of the publicity department's desktop

publishing equipment.  The letter in his hand is poised over a

flatbed optical scanner.

     TF: "I wonder what that letter says.  You know, there's a

rumour going round that I'll be made Captain of the Defiant next

season."

     DRG: "But you're just a lieutenant!"

     TF: "It all comes clear in the season finale!"

     DRG: "Right."

     TF: "Right.  Look where his hand is.  If we could just

activate that optical scanner we'd know what that letter said."

     DRG: "How are we supposed to do that?"

     TF: "What is that thing?"

     DRG: "It's my Type 2 phaser garage door opener."

     TF: "Do you think we could modify it so it could activate

that optical scanner?"

     DRG: "We'd have to [tech] it."

     TF: "You've got a [tech] in you toolbox right there.  All we

have to do is [tech] the [tech].  I'll bet that'd work."

     DRG: "All right, smarty pants, you do it."

     She modifies the Type 2 phaser garage door opener using the

[tech].  She holds up the phaser, angles it around the doorframe,

and fires.  The flatbed optical scanner comes to life and scans

the letter in Gul Berman's hand.  High fives in the photocopy

room.

     Gul Berman breaks the editor's hand with a handshake, waves

goodbye, reminds the receptionist that she's doing a superb job,

and leaves.  Terry Farrell and Door Repair Guy descend on the

flatbed optical scanner, push some buttons, and grab at the

hardcopy rolling out of the printer.  TF gets it first and reads

it eagerly.  Her mouth falls open.

     "Shit!"

     DRG grabs it and reads.

     "Shit!"

     Close-up of them looking at the hardcopy and at each other,

aghast.  Fade to commercial.

 

[Commercial: Canon copiers]

 

     Fade back from commercial.  Terry Farrell and DRG run for

the door.  The receptionist tosses her pencil into her empty

coffee mug, rises, nonchalantly strolls over to the optical

scanner, and makes another copy.  She brings it back to her desk,

reading as she goes, puts the phone under her chin, speed-dials

with the eraser end of the pencil, and sits back.

     "Madeline?  Hi.  Rhonda.  Guess what.  They're cancelling

DRG.  Yeah.  Well, they lost Pittsburgh for next season.  Yeah,

and some other places.  Australia and Ireland.  And Pembroke. 

Where is that?  No.  Head of Entertainment.  Yeah.  Says he

always knew three series were too many.  Uh huh.  No, I'm fine. 

No!  It doesn't effect you at all!  Come on!  How many people can

it effect?  (Laughs.)  That's right.  Okay.  Yeah.  Bye."

 

     The Selayan is fidgetting on Gul Piller's leather couch.

     The intercom sounds.  He jumps up and crosses to the desk.

     "I said no calls."

     *It's Door Repair Guy.  He*

     The door opens.  DRG enters halfway, forgetting he still has

his lock-pick in his hand.

     "Are you busy?  I could come back."

     Piller touches his forehead with his fingertips like he has

a headache.

     "Now's not really a good time."

     "Because I could come back later."

     "I think that would be best."

     DRG enters a little further.

     "Maybe lunch?"

     "Oh, gee, I don't know.  I'm really full up.  Later would be

better."

     "I understand.  No.  Really.  Later is good.  I'll just come

back . . . later."

     "That would be great.  I'll look forward to it."

     "Okay.  Later."

     He slides out the door.  The door hovers open about half an

inch.

     Piller: "So long!  See you later!"

     The door hovers a moment more, then clicks shut.

     Piller goes to his computer.

     "Computer."

     *Working*

     "Recognize Gul Piller, Other Executive Producer, Door Repair

Guy."

     *Confirmed*

     He inputs "s".

     *Do you wish to send some Electronic Mail?*

     He inputs "y".

     *To:*

     He leans forward and begins to type.

 

     Gul Berman is crossing a parking lot shouting into a

cellular phone.  It's the same parking lot that was enclosed and

flooded for the scenes near the end of STIV in which the crew of

the Bounty abandon ship and splash around in San Francisco Bay. 

It was also Chesapeake Bay in _Patriot Games_ with Harrison Ford.

In fact, Gul Berman spots Ford getting into a car on the other

side of the parking lot and interrupts his call long enough to

shout, "Harrison!  Hey, pal!  _Fugitive_!  Great dive!" and give

an enthusiastic thumbs up.  Ford, in dark glasses, freezes in the

act of squeezing into the driver side door, searches frowning for

the source of the shout, spots Gul Berman, flashes a grin and

waves, gets in, and drives away.  Berman turns his attention back

to the cell phone and says, "No, you little bag of dirt, I said

you can tell your advertisers I'll put in seven commercial breaks

and if that isn't good enough for them I've got the number of a

monkey wrangler who'd be only too pleased to ship a couple of

trained orangutans out there to provide them with the kind of

service they really have in mind!"  He smacks the hood of a

vermilion 1976 Pontiac Firebird as he makes this last point,

activating the anti-theft device and causing the car to begin

honking, claxoning, and declaring:

     *Car body has been electrified.  Do not attempt to enter. 

Contact with metal surface will result in death.  Stand back. 

Car body has been electrified.  Do not attempt to enter.  Contact

with metal surface will result in death.  Stand back*

     "Huh?"

     He stomps off toward his office.  Across the parking lot the

uniformed attendant speaks into a walkie-talkie and in no time

messengers have begun to comb the studio lot for the owner, a Mr

D.R. Guy.

 

[Commercial: Amigo]

 

First article is #1002056, last article is #1002070

 

  R1002056.  Re: Klingon blood wine available in California? 

   1002057.  Spock dies in STII??!!

   1002058.  Possible YATI in Generations (**Spoilers**)

  R1002056.  Re: Lynch's Spoiler Review [DRG] "The Orb"

   1002057.  Are Nanites Gay?

  R1002058.  DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002059.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002060.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002061.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002062.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002063.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002064.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002065.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002066.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002067.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002068.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002069.  Re: DRG TO BE CANCELLED: E-MAIL BERMAN

  R1002070.  Who the %&!> is DRG??!!

 

------------------------------

  c = Contribute a new article

  n = Read next unread article

  s = Read next unread article with same subject

  h = Help, list of additional commands

  q = Quit

 

     Gul Berman: "Any messages?"

     Madeline: "Did you check your e-mail today?"

     "E-mail!  When I started out we used the good old reliable

US Mail!  In those days they knew about discipline.  They were

practically a branch of the military: Army, Navy, Air Force,

Marines, Coast Guard, Post Office Department.  Next day delivery. 

Touched the brim of their hat when they spoke to you.  In an

emergency you picked up the phone.  E-mail!"

     "Your e-mailbox is 354% full."

     "Yeah?  Be a sweetheart and deal with it, will you?  I have

to make some calls."

     He slams his door.  Madeline swivels to the computer screen,

accesses the e-mailbox, pops her gum, and deletes all 937

messages.

 

[Commercial: Bell Telephone.

     "I switched to one of those other carriers, but it wasn't

long before I realized I'd made a big mistake.  One time, I was

phoning an out-of town supplier, and an operator came on and said

all the lines were busy.  I tried again and I heard a voice say,

'Watson, come here, I need you.'  What was that all about?  And

another time I was talking to my friend Bev in Rangoon, and

President's Choice Peanut Sauce started coming out of the

receiver.  I mean, come on.  That's when I switched back to

Bell."]

 

     The offices of Digital Magic.

     One of the video image artists sits back from his terminal

and rubs his eyes.

     "Man, this is worse than stripping furniture."

     A co-worker walks by.

     "Done yet?"

     "Yeah, all done."  He looks at his watch.  "Ten o'clock.  Is

that a.m. or p.m.?"

     "Ante-meridian."

     "Wow.  Eighteen hours."

     He runs the finished image on the monitor.  We see the two

transport ships from Star Trek: Generations drifting helplessly. 

Blue lightning runs over the hull of one of them.  But the

enormous energy ribbon familiar to movie-goers is gone, replaced

by an innocent starfield.

     "You know, I had an Auntie Meridian once.  She left me her

cedar chest."

     "All my aunt left me was a wooden leg."

     "And when did you last get some sleep?"

     Gul Berman trundles in, brimming with vim, vigour and

vitality.

     "Is that the effect for 'Renewal'?"

     "Just finished."

     "Magnificent work!  Can't say I've ever seen anything so

lifelike!  Unfortunately, we can't use it.  Here's the new

ending.  And here's a cassette you'll need.  The effect's

described on pink page 41.  I need it by five.  Ciao, guys!"

     He barrels off.  They stare at the cassette.

     "This calls for drugs."

     The video artist pulls open a drawer and produces a waxed

bag of coffee beans.  He unfolds the top, pours a small heap into

his hand, and downs them.

 

     Gul Piller emerges from his office and is nearly run down by

a catering cart.  The delivery man wheels it up to Reception and

demands, "Who's going to sign for this?"

     Piller: "Oh God, the cake."

     Madeline: "Oh God, the cake."

     Delivery guy: "Yeah, yeah.  Sign here."

     Madeline: "It goes to Stage 17."

     Delivery guy, already on the way: "Yeah, yeah."

 

     Stage 17.  The cast and crew are gathered round the buffet. 

The cake rests in the middle, as yet untouched.

     Cake: "IT WAS GREAT WHILE IT LASTED".

     DRG is slouched in a director's chair.

     "First somebody tries to steal my car, then my show gets

cancelled."

     Quark: "Twenty-eight episodes.  That beats the animated

series."

     Odo: "But it's not sixty-five."

     Jake: "So that means no syndication, right?"

     Kira: "You got that right."

     DRG: "Hey, what if they reran it with the animated series?"

     Odo: "That's still only thirty-nine hours."

     DRG: "Well, suppose they cut each DRG in half and put 'TO BE

CONTINUED' at the end of each half hour, and ran it with the

animated series?  Then there'd be seventy-eight half-hour

episodes!"

     Odo: "You're grasping at straws."

     He glances at his hands.  He *is* in the process of mangling

two handfuls of drinking straws.

     Gul Piller walks up, still in Selayan makeup.

     "People.  I just wanted to say . . ."  --he gestures to the

cake, searching for words-- "it was great while it lasted.  I

think we put out some really good product here . . . but tastes

change, and now it's time to move on to something else.  This

show'll always have a special place in my . . . in all our

hearts.  Next year, when you're all doing hospital dramas, I know

there'll come a time when you're leaning over a patient and all

you'll be able to think of is, 'Hypospray'.  So . . . if you'll

excuse me . . . I'll just . . . ."  He gestures over his shoulder

with one finger and wanders off.  They all stare after him.

     Kira: "Who *was* that?"

     Gul Berman barrels in.

     "All right, people, you've had your break.  Let's get to it. 

We've got five pages to put in the can before I have to start

paying double time."  He starts handing out pink pages.

     Frakes: "But what about Pittsburgh?"

     "Pittsburgh!  They were like putty in my hands.  But we'll

have to step lively if we want to keep Pembroke."

     Kira: "Where's Pembroke?"

     Berman: "I don't know, but they're a major, major affiliate,

Major, so let's not let them down."  He checks his watch. 

"They're flying their man in as we speak.  Here, you.  Eat that."

     He points to the cake.

     The Door Fek'lhr grasps his belly and roars.

     O'Brien: "What about Ireland?"

     Berman puts his arm around his shoulders.

     "I did all I could."

     "That's bloody excellent.  They can't see me in the movies,

and now they can't see me on TV.  I'm after calling my agent."

     He stomps off.

     The Executive Producer thinks about this, turns abruptly and

begins to hunt down Door Repair Guy.  DRG sees him coming,

retreats, but gets cornered behind a set without any wild (i.e.

movable) walls.

     "Hey!  Buddy!"

     "I didn't realize the Generations script was in that

envelope, I swear it."

     "Say, that's all water under the bridge now.  You ought to

take a break from LA.  Recharge those creative batteries.  Did

you ever drive a van?"

     "A van?  Cool!"

 

     View of an enormous spherical space vessel looming up and

dwarfing Deep Space Nine.

     Kira: "It's enormous."

     Dax: "They're hailing."

     Sisko: "On screen."

     We see the severe, disapproving face of Balok from "The

Corbomite Maneuver" (original airdate November 10th, 1966).

     Balok: "We have spent a century analyzing your civilization,

and it has been found wanting!  Prepare to be destroyed!"

     Sisko: "If you must.  But be warned.  This station is

constructed entirely of [glances down at script] owatanite.  Any

hostile action on your part will result in your destruction."

     Balok glares down without responding.

     Kira: "He's thinking it over."

     Sisko: "Dax, Doctor, you're with me."

     They follow him onto the transporter pad.

     O'Brien: "You'd better bend down.  It's low in there."

     They hunch over.  The transporter effect surrounds them and

they materialize in a low-ceilinged hallway.  They glance around. 

Sisko bumps his head.  White curtains wave in a slight breeze. 

     Dax: "Brrr.  Did you ever see Twin Peaks?"

     Bashir: "Just the first half dozen episodes or so."

     "You didn't miss much.  It went downhill really quickly."

     "Wasn't the guy who played Rumpelstiltskin in that?"

     "Michael John Anderson!"

     Sisko: "Look!"

     They approach the artificial head of Balok.

     Dax: "Just like in the Wizard of Oz."

     Sisko: "That's it!  No more twentieth century references for

the next half hour!"

     They follow a winding passage made of curtains and enter a

round chamber surrounded by arches.  On the other side of the

chamber is a couch, and on the couch is Bob Cowan.

     Bob: "Ok-a-a-ay!  Welcome back to Fesarius!  [Takes out a TV

Guide.]  Just wanted to bring you up to date on a few upcoming

highlights.  Starting this Thursday at 7:30 p.m. we'll be

invading the Delta Quadrant.  Those Borg don't know if they're

coming or going, so it shouldn't take much time at all.  So don't

miss that.  Then it's on to the Andromeda Galaxy and a fast-

paced, fun-filled exploration of the life with the ornithoids. 

Followed by Cheers." 

     Sisko: "I think the end of this episode will be followed by

cheers.  What a turkey!"

     Frakes: "Cut!  Avery, we're on a tight schedule.  Please

stick to the script."

     Bob: "When do we drink the tranya?"

 

     [Credits.  Theme music starts up but then fades out. 

Voiceover (Tim Curry): "And now an announcement of interest to

all viewers of Star Trek: Door Repair Guy.  We are pleased to

announce that Door Repair Guy will continue to be seen on

(voiceover by Bob Cowan: "CHRO") television.  We know you will be

looking forward to seeing the weekly adventure in space on Door

Repair Guy.  I know I will.  Bwahahahahahaha."]

 

     Shot of Gul Berman with his arm around Tim Curry as they

walk away down a corridor at Paramount.

     "Great voiceover, Tim!  Simply rivetting!  If that doesn't

keep them sitting up on their little tails through the reruns I

don't know what will!"

     "You know I'm only too glad to help out, Gul."

     "Have you got anything lined up for next season?"

     "Not yet, but I'm flying out to Dublin tonight.  I just

landed the part of Jimmy Rabbitt Senior in _The Van_."

     "They couldn't have chosen a better man for the part!"

     "Oh, gosh.  I'm blushing all over.  Thanks.  You've all been

so great.  You've made me feel right at home.  Did you know I

have the same agent as Terry Farrell?"

     "No!  What a small world!"

     "Isn't it, though?"

     They turn the corner.  

     A bear-wrangler comes into the shot, leading a large brown

bear, and reading the directions on a piece of paper.

     "I know the Continuity Department's around here somewhere."

 

------------

Written by Douglas A. McLeod, ai919@ncf.carleton.ca

------------

 

Notes on Renewal:

DRG as The Larry Sanders Show is what's going on here.

Gul Berman has the same secretary as Not Fragile.

References to Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: Generations, Earth 2, and The Van put this DRG in early 1995. Tim Curry was in Earth 2. Genevieve Bujold was originally cast as Captain Janeway, but got fired for knowing absolutely nothing about Star Trek.

Lynch's Spoiler Review.

Pembroke is approximately one hour's drive north of Ottawa.

A Canon copier!

Irish idiom error: "I'm after" means "I have just done" not "I'm going to".

Owatanite: April Wine reference.

End of Season Two.

A Mackerel

Unarigoe, Chapter 2, Page 20

Postponed Hamilton Game

The Hamilton Mausoleum. Note the tiny human on the roadway to the left.

This afternoon Morton and Hamilton Academical make up that game originally scheduled for December 17. The weather has been kinder this winter, so this is only one of two rescheduled fixtures for the Ton, apart from a Cup-clashing fixture in March that has been moved forward. Last weekend dozens of matches were cancelled in England, but the storm passed south of Scotland.

How did the Greenockians fare in midweek games last year? Very well in fact: five wins, two draws and one loss.

A considerable number of supporters walked out at halftime during Morton's 6 - 0 loss to Motherwell on February 4th. But did that drubbing result in a permanent loss of fan support? Compare the home games before and after the Motherwell match. On January 14th the Ton drew 1739 to Cappielow to watch them play Raith Rovers to a 1 - 1 draw. For last Saturday's 0 - 0 game against Falkirk the attendance was 1756. The debacle at Fir Park had no effect.

Attendance at Cappilow has declined somewhat since the season began, though. Here are the attendance figures for league matches played at Cappielow, with the date in parentheses: 2025 (13/8), 2018 (10/9), 2621 (24/9), 2264 (15/10), 1748 (29/10), 2201 (12/11), 1352 (26/11), 1849 (10/12), 2108 (2/1), 1739 (14/1), 1756 (11/2).

Is this decline a function of the weather or does it signal a loss of hope on the part of the Greenock supporters?

One club that has had no reason to suffer a loss of hope is Ross County. How do their home figures look? 2249 (6/8), 2065 (20/8), 2189 (10/9), 2047 (17/9), 2121 (1/10), 2431 (22/10), 4108 (12/11), 2698 (3/12), 3046 (17/12), 2514 (28/1). Numbers at Victoria Park have strengthened, despite the winter weather.

Conclusion: fans will stand in any weather to watch their team win the division.

In other news. If this doesn't prompt a top to bottom restructuring of Scottish football, nothing will: Rangers are going into administration. [Update: Rangers are now in administration. The SPL has penalised the club ten points, virtually assuring that Celtic will win the title, and probably the treble.]

[Morton win 2 - 1! Goals by Campbell and O'Brien. They leapfrog the middle pack to sit fourth in the division.]

Shaolin Cricket, Part Fourteen

 

     Korogi, Dumont, Wheeler and Rhodenizer are playing tarbish in Korogi’s dining room. Though Korogi and Dumont are an acknowledged item, they are the two of the four who know the least about each other’s history. So it’s Dumont who says, “So, when did you decide you were a Maritimer? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe your great-grandparents have to be born here.”

     “It was when I stubbed my toe on a chair leg one morning and I turned around and said to the chair, and I remember this very clearly because it was an important moment, “Go fuck yourself, chair.”

     Wheeler: “In the English department they call that the pathetic fallacy. And it is kind of pathetic.”

     Rhodenizer: “No, it isn’t. It means you think the chair has a soul. If you can see the soul of a chair, you’re entitled to call yourself a Maritimer.”

     “Sadly that little chair is going to hell.”

     “That chair right there?”

     “Yes.”

     “Tsk tsk tsk.”

     Wheeler: “So, are you getting any sense out of that jade stone of yours?”

     Korogi: “I’ve been playing it all the traditional Chinese music I can find. I have a nice collection of Chinese 78s, I don’t mind saying. But it doesn’t appear to take much in. The trouble is it seems to be radio-sensitive. Most of the time if you put it to your ear you just get the Radio Canada International call signal.”

     Dumont: “Ah, well, we had that problem in the psych department. You can’t plug in an electronic instrument without it reading the RCI broadcast into the results. We ended up building a radio-free vault in the basement for our experiments.”

     “Oh?  Experiments? What sort of experiments?”

     “Psychology experiments.”

     “Are there . . . electrodes?”

     Dumont, making a persecuted social science face: “Artsie.”               



     The Dean is sipping whiskey and enjoying the sunset somewhere above the Aleutian Islands. The cultured-looking Oriental woman opposite him closes her laptop and smiles at him.

     “What’s your book?”

     The Dean picks up the novel and hands it to her.

     Woman: “Leo McKay. Italian-Scottish?”

     “Nova Scotian.”

     “That’s in Eastern Canada? Poor economy. Coal mining.”

     “Yes. The novel is about a coalmining disaster.”

     “But I see part of it is set in Japan.”

     “Many of our graduates go to the Orient to teach English.”

     “Oh, you’re a teacher.”

     “An administrator, actually, at a university.”

     “I see. In my country—“

     From coach: “Ohh!”

     They look at the blue curtain. An attendant comes through and notices their curiosity.

     Attendant: “We’re showing Lost, season one. They always do that when Michael gets hit by the car.”

     Woman: “I don’t know what that means.”

     Dean: “It’s a TV show. And rather an odd one to be showing on a trans-Pacific flight. You were saying?”

     “Oh. I was going to say that we have had some mining disasters in our country too.”

     “Oh yes?”

     “Yes. Unfortunately our coal contains a lot of methane.”

     “A bad combination.”

     “Yes, self-reliance is a hard road to hold—no, excuse me, I don’t think I’ve said that correctly.”

     “The expression is a hard row to hoe.”

     “A farming metaphor.”

     “Yes.”

     She sits up. “Isn’t that a perfect example of how much commonality there is in the world? Nearly everybody comes from farmers.”

     “I suppose that’s true.”

     “Sometimes I’m amazed at how things have progressed in our lifetime. We have no fear, for instance, of being shot down if our plane were to stray into Russia space.”

     “No, you’re right. Things are looking up.”

     The lights go down. The attendants start to tuck everyone in. The woman returns the novel. They say goodnight. She opens the laptop and finishes her report on him, concluding, Disingenuous.

     There’s a symposium at the Wu Centre. Scholars from around the globe have come to Sackville, New Brunswick, to discuss chronophony. Professor Korogi sits in on a couple of sessions. Chronophony, for the uninitiated, is telecommunication across time. The people who brought you TV on your phone are always looking for the next thing, and this is slated to be the next thing in about 2031, if they can just get it to work.

     “The difficulty,” argues one speaker, “is not so much a question of time as of space. Assuming we can learn to navigate the temporal ocean, there’s still the reality of celestial motion. It’s all very well to drop a message into the 29th century, but in the interim the earth has moved around the sun, the sun around the centre of the galaxy, and the galaxy away from the centre of the universe. You’ll be thousands of light years away from the intended receiver. You’ll need a massive retransmitter in the 29th century, and as radio will still only travel at the speed of light you’ll actually be more years from your receiver than you were in the first place.”

     “That’s a Newtonian perspective!” charges some young spark.

     Korogi raises a hand.

     “What if the transmitter and the receiver were the same device?”

     Heads turn.

     “That’s an elegant solution,” says the moderator. “The signal would travel along with the earth.”

     A heated discussion breaks out about the nature of a society in which past and future can call each other up. It’s quickly pointed out that, though for the moment the possibility of chronophony with the past is as likely as with the future, the practicality is that it can only take place after the thing has been invented. Nobody in the 19th century has a chronophone.

    Then a pair of Finnish researchers announce that they’re working on tying into pre-existing telephone and telegraph systems. Pandemonium, then lunch.

Ship Crane, Dartmouth

Having made a big deal of the cantilever ship crane at Greenock's James Watt Dock in the previous post, I should acknowledge its pretty respectable counterpart at the navy jetty on the Dartmouth side of the Narrows in Halifax Harbour. Picture sources: above, below.

Post Cup Hangover

Wee Dublin end of Cappielow Park, with Titan Crane. Photo source.

Falkirk FC visit Cappielow today for a league match in the shadow of Greenock's enormous crane. And in the shadow of Morton's 6 - 0 loss to Motherwell too. Morton might need that crane to swing in a container or two of import supporters to replace the homegrown ones who walked out of Fir Park at the half last Saturday when thescore was 5 - 0 Motherwell. To judge by the forum at GreenockMorton.org the season is now officially lost and the call for Allan Moore's head has begun. I can't find a comprehensive database but it looks like last week's score was Morton's worst Scottish Cup result of at least the post-WWII era. Can someone finish this sentence for me? "Morton's 6 - 0 loss was their worse Scottish Cup result since ____ A.D."

Rangers also lost. Since the League Cup began they have gone without a major trophy only twenty years out of sixty-five. This season could be the twenty-first occasion. They're out of the League Cup and the Scottish Cup, and sit second in the Premier League.

Falkirk, on the other hand, are doing all right. They are still in the Scottish Cup and the Challenge Cup, and along with Dundee still have a realistic chance of catching Ross County at the top of the table. They haven't lost a league match since November.

[But here's good news for Morton. Falkirk's Farid El Alagui, the division scoring leader, is serving a suspension.]

Livingston on the other other hand have fired manager Gary Bollan.

Morton play five games over the next fifteen days: Falkirk today, Hamilton, Partick, Ross County, and Hamilton again.

Largs will try again to get in their fourth round Scottish Junior Cup match against Arniston.

[The BBC Sport live updates page is getting roundly defamed on Twitter today, on account of it not updating. Plus it's done up in Livingston FC colours.]

[There's a movement afoot to replace Allan Moore with Fabio Capello aka Fabio Cappielow.]

[FT 0 - 0. Every First Division fixture ends in a draw except Livingston 3 - 1 Partick.] [Largs won!]

Photo source.

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 27

 

The Franchise

      Exterior view of Deep Space Nine.

     Cut to a baseball stadium under a drizzling rain.  The field

is empty except for an orange tarp covering the infield.  We get

a closeup of the rainwater channeling along the orange wrinkles

toward the sidelines.  We see a player saunter out from the

locker room into the abandoned dugout, tap his spikes

unnecessarily with a bat, lean out and hold his hand palm up in

the rain, and return to the locker room.  Most of the crowd has

gone home, and most of the rest have moved up under the second

tier, but a few stalwarts huddle under tents fashioned out of

green and yellow ponchoes.  The camera moves in toward two

figures seated all alone in the fifth row behind first base.

     "Dad."

     "Yes, Jake."

     "I know baseball is this great lost art and everything."

     "Uh huh."

     "And I know you said that to really understand it you can't

just show up for the World Series games."

     "That's right.  There are wonderful plays that never

happened in a World Series."

     "But it's been raining for two hours.  Couldn't we just tell

the computer to fast-forward to the part where they resume play?"

     "Jake, baseball has its own pace, its own tempo.  It's a

unique way of measuring time, almost a human timepiece.  To jump

ahead to the highlights is to do violence to the game's very

nature.  Besides, waiting is a part of life."

     "But it's just the first week of the schedule.  Couldn't we

run a game that really matters?"

     "Jake, every game matters.  A win at the beginning of the

schedule makes as much difference as a win in the pennant drive."

     "But it's not like these teams are going to make the World

Series."

     "How do you know that?  You said yourself it's only the

first week of the schedule."

     "I looked at the record book."

     "You looked at the record book!  You told me you wouldn't do

that!  Why would you sit through a game, knowing the outcome?"

     "Dad, you're always reading the stats!"

     "But only to educate myself about the *possible* outcome of

a game.  I don't read them to find out the final score.  That

would spoil all the fun."

     Jake looks ironically from under the poncho to see if he can

catch a glimpse of all the fun.

     "Dad, it's the Mets and the Padres.  They're going to finish

last whatever happens."

     "Jake.  Losing is a part of life.  Besides, there's much

more to a baseball game than what occurs on the field.  Look at

your friend Nog over there.  Only two hours and he's already

learned the local currency, talked himself into one of the food

concessions, and bought out half a dozen vendors.  Now he's

conducting job interviews while he sells hotdogs.  Look.  He just

hired someone."

     View of Nog passing over his hotdog tray to a fan.  The fan

looks around and begins to climb over the seatbacks to get at

some customers.  Nog comes down the steps and along the row,

thumbing through a wad of paper money and grinning from ear to

ear.

     "Jake!  I love this game!  Look at all this money!"

     "That's great, Nog."

     *Ops to Sisko*

     "What is it, Dax?"

     *A Ferengi Marauder has just entered sensor range, Benjamin*

     "Has it made contact?"

     *Message coming through now.  It's the Grand Nagus.  Oh,

that's so cute.  Sorry, Benjamin, he just tried a pick-up line on

me.  (Sounds of raised voices.)  Oh!  He just hit on Kira. 

(Crashing sounds.)  She's throwing things at the screen.  I have

to go.  (More shouting and crashing.)*

     "Sorry, Jake, I'll have to go up to Ops."

     "I don't mind!"

     "Will you stay here and fill me in when I get back?"

     "Ah.  Sure.  Yeah.  No problem."

     "That's my boy!"

     He exits.  Jake puts his chin in his hand.  Nog spots a

player and dashes down the steps, fishing a baseball from his

pocket and shouting, "Sign this!  Sign this!  O-h-h-h!  Sign

this!"

 

     An icy asteroid rolls by, spewing cometary material.

     "Crawlspace.  The final frontier.  These are the voyages of

The Door Repair Guy.  His mission: to install and maintain

proximity-activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new

service conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has

gone before."

     Deep Space Nine space station drifts into view.  A runabout

shoots past, revealing the words:

 

               Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

 

                         Starring

 

                    Door Repair Guy as

                         Himself

 

                    Avery Brooks as

                         Commander Sisko

 

                    Rene Auberjonois as

                         Odo

 

                    Siddig El Fadil as

                         Doctor Bashir

 

                    Terry Farrell as

                         Lieutenant Dax

 

                    Colm Meany as

                         Chief O'Brien

 

                    Armin Shimerman as

                         Quark

 

                    Nana Visitor as

                         Major Kira

 

                    Natalia Nogulich as

                         Admiral Nechayev

 

                    Wallace Shawn as

                         Zek

 

                    Max Grodenchik as

                         Rom

 

                    and Aron Eisenberg as

                         Nog

 

A runabout shoots past the station's curved pylons just as the

wormhole opens and closes.  A moment later a second runabout

curves by, closely followed by a third.  Hey, it's a race! 

They're doing laps around the station!  Cut to Quark presiding

over a boisterous crowd of betters in front of a viewscreen above

his bar.  He spots Odo and a gang of security guards crashing the

door, hastily shoves a heap of latinum into the arms of another

Ferengi who disappears out the back, then grabs the remote

control and switches to 

 

[Commercial:

     London, 1967.  Guy with five o'clock shadow and supermodel

deplane and are besieged by paparazzi.  They escape in a cab. 

They buy some jeans.  The paparazzi find them in a caf.  They

escape down an alleyway.  Now they're in a sumptuous hotel.  They

open a door and are blinded by flashbulbs.

     Majel: "I told you we should've gone to Expo!"

     Gene: "RrrrrRRrr!"]

 

     A Jefferies tube.  O'Brien comes barreling along with his

toolbox in one hand.  He glances down just as he walks past the

camera and out of the frame.  We hear:

     "What the . . . ?"

     He walks back into the frame with his eyes on a spot on the

floor.  He circles it, crouches down, opens his toolbox, takes

out a tricorder and points it at the floor.  The camera leans

down too and takes in O'Brien's knees, the tricorder and . . . a

pair of footprints imbedded in the deck plate.

 

     Odo enters the Infirmary.

     "You called, Doctor?"

     "Yes I did.  Somebody's been into the medical records

again."

     "It's happened before?"

     "Yes.  Yesterday I logged off at this terminal just before

meeting Garak for lunch at the replimat.  I was gone half an

hour.  When I returned I logged on and found the words 'DRG file

restricted: enter access authorization' at the command prompt.  I

was not looking at that file before I went for lunch."

     "Interesting.  What does DRG stand for?"

     "Door Repair Guy."

     "Him!  Do you have any idea who would want to read his

medical file?"

     "I'm pretty sure who.  I took the precaution of leaving a

medical scanner on record-mode before I went for lunch today on

the chance that he'd make another attempt."

     "And?"

     Bashir accesses the picture-file.  We get a colour-enhanced

silhouette of the circulatory system of a Ferengi sidling up to

the computer terminal.   It removes the cylindrical shape of an

isolinear rod from what must be a vest pocket and inserts it in

the computer.  Finely capillaried digits input commands.  The

figure waits, smiles and nods, exhibits a fascinating change of

blood flow to the ears, slips the rod back into the vest pocket

and departs.

     "As for why, I can only believe it has something to do with

those cybernetic implants of his.  They're the reason his file is

restricted."

     "Industrial espionage.  I think I'll have a word with the

usual suspect."

 

     "Quark!"

     Quark slows down and sees Odo bearing down on him along the

Promenade.

     "What is it Odo?  I'm a busy man."

     "Where were you between 12:00 and 12:30 today?"

     "Lunchtime?  Now let me see.  Where could I have been? 

Perhaps I was in the bar serving -- who would it be? -- I know!

The lunchtime crowd."

     "You deny you were in the Infirmary downloading restricted

files?"

     "Really, Odo, you're such a card.  Why would I do that when

I can download them from the comfort of my own bar?"

     "Mm.  You've got a point there.  Can you offer any evidence

which would serve to substantiate your alibi?"

     "I have security camera recordings of the whole lunch rush. 

Don't you?"

     "I'll go and see."

     "You do that.  A pleasure as always, Odo.  Ta ta!"

     Odo grunts and walks off.  Quark heads for the bar.

     "Quark!"

     Quark stops dead in his tracks and turns to see Grand Nagus

Zek bearing down on him along the Promenade, followed by an

agitated DaiMon Tong and, farther back, Zek's towering Hupyrian

manservant, Maihar'du.

     "Grand Nagus, what a pleasant surprise."

     "Cut the crap, Quark.  I'm here for a surprise inspection. 

Here, you forgot to kiss this.  How are your liquid assets?  I

hope I don't find you cash poor?"

     "My books are your books, Grand Nagus."

     "You're damned right they are.  And the sooner I get my nose

in them the better.  Follow me!"

     Zek charges off to the bar, followed by Tong, Maihar'du,

and, after a moment's indecision, Quark.

 

[Commercial:

     "It's wonderful!"

     "It's so dreamy and elegant!"

     "It's Bright Pink Stuff For Girls!"]

 

     Sisko paces up and down in front of his office.  At last he

leans on the railing and says:

     "I thought you said the Grand Nagus was coming up to speak

with me."

     Dax: "His exact words were, 'Clear a docking port,

sweetcakes, I've got some business with the big enchilada.'"

     "Hm.  Nothing ambiguous about that.  I wonder where he can

be.  Computer, locate the Grand Nagus."

     *Grand Nagus Zek is in Quark's Bar*

     Close-up of Sisko looking surprised, affronted, puzzled,

bemused and curious all in the space of a second.

     "Then perhaps I'd better go down and visit the big enchilada

myself.  Major Kira, you're with me."

 

     "What do you make of it, Doctor?"

     "Those are the soles of a pair of boots all right, not to

mention the soles of a pair of feet, imbedded directly into the

deckplate."

     "Ouch."

     "I wonder how they got there."

     "It must have been some sort of transporter malfunction. 

But feet in the deckplate should never occur.  There are far too

many safeguards built into the standard transporter system

nowadays for that to happen.  It's like something from the first

days of transporters."

     "Ah.  Paleotechnic."  

     "Excuse me?"

     "Surely you've read Lewis Mumford, Chief.  He was one of the

founding theorists of technological change.  He divided the

evolution of tools into three stages: paleotechnic, the earliest,

primitive stage of development, but not without the virtues of

craftsmanship; eotechnic, the stage in which mass production has

been introduced, but sophistication, variety, and adaptability

have not been attained; and neotechnic, in which the tool has

become versatile, individual and even smart."

     "Like today's transporters."

     "Oh, really, Chief, come on.  Transporters won't be

neotechnic until people can site-to-site transport at any time

day or night without the bother of walking to a transporter

room!"

     "Oh, well, excuse me!"

     Odo walks up.

     "You called?"

     O'Brien: "Look at this.  We think it's a transporter

malfunction."

     "Then why call me?"

     Bashir: "Didn't you tell me there's been a string of

unexplained break-ins around the station?"

     "You're right.  The other day I came home to find my bucket

kicked clear across the room."

     Bashir: "There you go then."

     "I don't understand."

     Bashir: "Transporter experiments.  Someone is using the

station is a target site for transporter experiments of some

kind."

     O'Brien: "But I don't get why anyone would bother.  The

transporter is a perfected technology."  He glares at Bashir. 

     Bashir: "I don't know how it all adds up, but it's got

something to do with that Door Repair fellow, I know that." 

     Odo: "Perhaps I'd better have a word with him.  Constable

Odo to Door Repair Guy.  Report immediately to the security

office."

     *Acknowledged*

     The holosuite.  DRG throws down his programme, shifts a wad

of chewing tobacco from one cheek to the other, looks around,

lifts up the seat beside his, spits, then picks the tarry blob

out of his mouth with his thumb and middle finger, sticks it

under the seat, and gets up and heads along the aisle toward the

exit, wiping his fingers on his overalls.  On the way he passes

Nog, who is holding up a contract and enthusing over the reserve

clause to one of his clients.

     View of Deep Space Nine.  The horns play that four note

musical tag which, if you haven't before realized it you will now

never be able to forget, say 'Door Re-pair Gu-u-u-u-uy'.

 

[Commercial: Zellers Toyland.

     "Mommy, will all my Christmas wishes come true?"

     "We'll see."

     Mom tucks her in and leaves.  The Teddy bear comes to life

and says, "Your Christmas wishes [voiceover: *may*] come true!"

     "Zeddy!  What kind of a promise is that?"

     "It's the only one our lawyers will allow.  Come on, let's

go-o-o-o-o!"

     They fly off to Zellers Toyland.  Voiceover lists this

week's specials.

     Morning.  Mom comes in.  Kid sits up in bed.

     "Zeddy took me to Zellers Toyland!"

     Mom picks up a Zellers Toyland sheriff's badge.

     "Jennifer, where did you get this?"

     Kid: [voiceover: giggles.  Originally: "Zeddy says that if I

tell you where then all the kids will want a free one and they'll

have a class action suit on their hands."]]

 

     Sisko and Kira enter Quark's.  Almost immediately Rom jumps

at them waving his hands and exclaiming, "Closed!  Come back

tomorrow!  O-o-o-o-o-h!  Thank you for your co-operation!  Oh!"

     Sisko looks down at him in complete surprise and continues

on into the back.

     The Nagus is seated at a computer console stroking his chin

and cackling.

     "Quark!  I knew I liked you!"  He leans toward DaiMon Tong

who is craning over Quark's shoulder trying to get a glimpse at

the computer screen.  "He's got this place depreciating by 150%

per annum!"  He sees Sisko looming up behind them.  "Huh?  Who

let him in?"

     "I showed myself in, Nagus.  No need to get up."

     "I wasn't going to."

     Quark: "Commander, on behalf of Ferengi everywhere allow me

to say how deeply gratified I am by your courteous interest in

the Nagus's visit, but I hope you'll believe me when I tell you

that this is not a good time!!"

     Kira, who is standing there with her hands on her hips,

hoists a finger in the air preparatory to laying down the law.

     Sisko: "Major."

     Zek: "Not to worry!"  He exits Quark's ledger in a few

geriatric jabs at the console and totters to his feet with the

help of his staff of office and Maihar'du.  "You're going to hear

this anyway, so you may as well get it from the zorbreb's anus."

     Sisko: "Isn't that the horse's mouth?"

     "Eh?"

     "The horses's mouth."

     "Yeah, well, wherever you get it from where you come from. 

Where was I?  Oh yeah!  I have an announcement!  As of today

Quark here is the franchisee for the Bajoran sector for my new

line of personalized cybernetic implants: ZekWare!"

     Quark is flabbergasted.  Tong's eyes widen with anger and

shoot poisoned darts at Rom, who quails and slips around a

corner.  Zek takes Quark by the shoulders and gives him a

fatherly shake.

     "Tong, I wanted you to see this.  Loyalty is a rare

commodity and it's very difficult to buy outright.  But Quark

here knows the value of a loss leader.  He was brownnosing me

back when it wasn't even worth anything to him!  Which is more

than I can say for you, you pernicious little scrounger!  You've

been pirating my personal transporter designs since we left the

Cuniculi Cluster!  Don't think I didn't notice, cause I did! 

Well, see where it gets you now, Tong!  I'm gonna hit you with a

patent infringement suit that'll make you the Alpha Quadrant's

leading authority on deficit financing!  How d'ya like them

tulaberries, DiaMon?"

     Tong doesn't.  He stands with his fists at his sides,

looking this way and that in a fury.  He raises his left forearm

and jabs it with his right forefinger.  He disappears in a

transporter effect.

     Up in Ops Dax blinks and does a double-take at a computer

terminal.

     "Computer.  Enhance area 134 mark 37."

     The computer brings up an image of a uniformed Ferengi

kicking and thrashing in the vacuum of space, several hundred

metres off Upper Pylon Two.

     "Transporter Room.  Lock on to figure and transport directly

to the Infirmary.  Dax to Doctor Bashir.  Please report to

Infirmary.  Medical emergency."

     Cut to Bashir, Odo and O'Brien coming along the Promenade

toward Security.  Bashir taps his commbadge.

     "Acknowledged.  You'll have to excuse me, gentlemen."

     He veers off to the Infirmary.

     O'Brien, under his breath: "Gobshite."

     Odo: "Eh?"

     "Oh.  I was just thinking of, ah . . . the Biblical story

about . . . Julian the Gobshite."

     "Ah."

     The Infirmary.  Tong materializes on an examination table

and immediately topples over the far side.

 

     Quark's.  Quark is pacing back and forth, wringing his

hands.  He blurts:

     "But, Nagus, what about my vision?"

     "Vision is what this is all about, Quark!  You're the best

little bootlicker I know to carry this new technology to Bajor

and on into the Gamma Quadrant!  Or isn't that what you meant?"

     "No, no, that's what I meant."

     "Good.  Pioneering spirit is what I look for.  Why, when I

was out there conquering the Cuniculi Cluster do you think I was

worried about always getting my ten percent?  No!"

     "What *is* this job worth?"

     "Six percent.  Less expenses.  But don't you worry!  You'll

make a million!"

     "But I don't know anything about cybernetic technology!"

     "Don't worry!  I brought experts!"

     Zek leads the way to the front of Quark's Bar.  He takes out

a solid gold communicator.

     "Tell the experts they can come over now."

     Three figures appear in a green transporter swirl in the

middle of the Promenade.  The passers-by freeze, then dash for

cover, several drawing phasers.  [Dramatic music.]  The camera

dollies up to the three Borg glancing tensely this way and that. 

Fade to commercial.

 

[Bob:

     "Okay, back to Door Repair Guy in a moment.  People ask me,

'What ever became of the Door Repair movie?  Are they going to

make one?  Who'll be in it?  Can I have a free ticket?'  Well,

this just in off the Internet: a complete first draft of the Door

Repair Guy movie.  Look, it says here at the bottom, 'Has Rick

Berman seen this yet?' and underneath, 'No, I haven't,' so you

know it's hot.  Apparently it starts with a scene from Star Trek

Generations.  Have we got that clip?"

 

     Bob: "And it goes on from there.  Production starts in . . .

hey, who are you?"

     Two guys in suits, carrying briefcases with the Paramount

logo, have walked onto the set.  One of them touches a device on

his forearm and Bob freezes in a contorted position à la Captain

Kirk.  The other takes the script and puts it in his briefcase,

then bends down and says, "Back to Door Repair Guy after this."]

 

[Commercial:

     "It's awesome!"

     "Megamorphic!"

     "It's Destructive Crap For Boys!"]

 

     The tension is palpable.  Bajorans and Starfleet personel

have taken cover along the two sides of the Promenade.  Dozens of

weapons are pointed at the unexpected newcomers.  The three Borg

stand in a defensive circle, their little mechanical thingamajigs

whirring nervously in the pregnant silence.  Zek totters into the

no-man's-land waving his staff of office and shouting:

     "I'll sue the ass of the first Hu-man who fires!"

     Two hands close on Zek's jacket and lift him into the air.

Sisko tells him, face to face:

     "I'm *not* having Borg on this station!"

     Sisko's commbadge beeps.

     *Ops to Sisko.  There's a priority message for you from

Starfleet Command*

     "I'll be right there.  Kira, keep an eye on these people.

Make sure they stay where they are.  At the first sign of trouble

fire."

     KIra holds up her phaser and wonders what she has to do to

get a line in this episode.

     Ops.  Sisko arrives via turbolift and disappears into his

office.  He comes around his desk and swings his computer console

toward him.

     "Sisko here."

     *You *are* going to have Borg on that station.  Nechayev

out*

     He hits his desk.  He walks over and hits the window frame. 

He comes back and hits his viewscreen.  He sets it up again and

says:

     "Get me Starfleet Command.  Admiral Nechayev."

     A moment later: *Nechayev here*

     "Have you completely taken leave of your senses, Admiral? 

First you hand the station over to the Jem'Hadar, and now you

want me to allow the Borg to set up on the Promenade!"

     *I never handed the station over to the Jem'Hadar*

     "Well, we all thought you did.  And it was in character."

     *Benjamin, clearly you have not been fully briefed on the

discoveries in the Cuniculi Cluster.  In addition to the best

damn chili in the universe it is home to a colony of

individualized Borg who have begun to develop a service economy

based on surgical cybernetic technology.  It is imperative that

the Federation gain full access to this technology.  We cannot

allow it to become the exclusive property of a few Ferengi

businessmen.  Who knows who they'd sell it to.  At the same time,

we must not interfere with the development of this postcollective

Borg society.  It's the future wave for the Borg, and I think

you'll agree it's a lot better than the . . . old wave. 

Therefore the Borg must be allowed to set up on your Promenade. 

And we have to get our people in there and buy that cybernetic

expertise*

     "What idiot would want to get wired up to a lot of Borg

machinery?"

     Cut to Door Repair Guy seated on the security console,

kicking his feet and wondering where everybody went.

 

     The Promenade.  Sisko appears out of a turbolift, and

approaches the group of Borg.  He extends his hand.

     "I am Benjamin Sisko.  Welcome to Deep Space Nine."

     The three Borg exchange looks, checking rapidly to see if

any one of them has a right hand.  The one with one steps

forward.

     "I am Not Fragile, surgical implant specialist.  This is my

lovely assistant Madeline.  And this is our esteemed leader,

Empress Natasha Polaroid."

     She steps forward with a pneumatic hiss.

     Sisko: "I understand you all come from the planet Cauda

Linea.  I'm afraid I've never heard of it before today.  Perhaps

you could describe it."

     Empress Natasha makes a frowning face, searching for the

right words and wrinkling her brow in concentration.  There is a

little whirring sound and a polaroid picture rolls out of one of

the wrinkles.  She takes it in a mechanical hand and extends it

to Sisko.

     "Ah, thank you, thank you very much."

 

[Commercial:

     "M-a-a-a-a-h-m!  These batteries are dead!"

     "A-a-a-ah!  It won't go!"

     "Just a minute!  There's someone at the door!  Yes?  Who are

you?"

     "Call me . . . Yuri.  How you like some batteries never

die?"

     "Sure!  What parent wouldn't?"

     "Here.  I sell you."

     "They're heavy."

     "Good quality.  Never die."

     "Guaranteed?"

     "Mutually assured."

     "M-a-a-a-a-h-m!!!"

     "All right.  How much?"

     "Sixty thousand cash."

     "Okay.  Here kids!"

     "Aw, cool, they glow!"

     Voiceover: "Never Die Batteries.  Made for war, now

available for Christmas."]

 

     The Infirmary.  Tong is hooked up to about a hundred

different machines and encased in a transparent osmotic membrane,

the better to repair his freeze-dried tissues.  He breathes in. 

A few moments later he breathes out.  In.  Later: out.  Rom

sidles into the room, ducking and peering in hopes of avoiding

detection.  He edges up to Tong's bed and gapes at the

technological array.  Then he takes an isolinear rod from his

vest pocket.

     "Tong.  Can you hear me?  It's Rom.  I brought the

information you wanted.  Do I get paid now?"

     Tong stirs.  His eyelids flutter.  He raises a faltering

hand.  His lips move.  Rom leans down.

     "Yes, Tong?  What is it?"

     Tong grabs Rom by the throat with both hands, causing tubes

and wires to snap out of their monitors and countless alarms to

start sounding.  They struggle until Tong overcomes Rom, forcing

him to his knees and falling off the bed on top of him before the

medical staff arrive and begin to pull them apart.

 

     The holosuite.  Jake is leaning on his elbow, the green and

yellow poncho draped over his head.  He stares forward unseeing

in a state of paralytic boredom.  Sisko drops into the seat

beside him and slaps him on the leg.

     "They're warming up in the bullpen.  Did I miss anything?"

     Nog runs up, delirious with happiness, and waving a two-

hundred page deed of sale.

     "Jake!  Look!  I bought the New York Mets!  This is the best

programme ever!  I love baseball!!"

 

     Security.  The doors open and Kira leans in.

     "Odo in?"

     DRG: "Nope.  Only me.  Wanna stop and chat?"

     She considers her options for a moment, then shakes her head

and exits, deciding that one line is a far far better fate than

the kind of hare-brained plot development those writers might

rope her into on the strength of one heart-to-heart with that

Door Repair Guy.

 

     Next week, on the season finale of Star Trek: Door Repair

Guy:

     Dax fires a phaser.

     Two vessels drift apart, one of them covered with blue bolts

of lightning.

     The Door Fek'lhr grasps its belly and roars.

     Morn raises his hand to ask a question.

 

     [Music.  Credits.]

 

------------

Written by Douglas McLeod, ai919@ncf.carleton.ca

------------

Notes on The Franchise:

Lewis Mumford.

The reserve clause.