Plenty of Nothing: Door Repair Guy

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 40

Door Repair Kai, Part One

Shot of alien shuttlecraft speeding through space.

Cut to the shuttlecraft interior. We see Door Repair Guy

slumped sideways in the navigator's seat. A hand extends into

the shot and presses a hypospray to his neck. He jumps awake.

"Whoa! What was that?"

The spokeswoman of the Founders: "Caffeine."

He twitches. "It works." He blinks at the viewscreen.

"Where are we?"

"We are in the Gamma Quadrant now."

"GQ. All right."

The shapeshifter studies him.

DRG: "What."

"We Founders have expended considerable effort to bring

order to our quadrant of the galaxy. Ancient empires and

powerful warring states have been subordinated and reorganized

according to rational and systematic principles. Order now

prevails across a significant fraction of the galaxy. The

appearance of the Bajoran Wormhole has offered us an opportunity

to continue our work in the Alpha Quadrant. But I sometimes

wonder whether the seed of entropy, by which it all shall be

undone, has not already been sown."

It takes him a moment to catch her drift.

"You're talking about me?"

"Your species exhibits a disturbing amalgam of invention and

insouciance. You make things up. You routinely disregard the

consequences of your actions. You guess. You do things to see

what will happen next. You initiate projects, then give up for

lack of interest. Or else you devote your lives to utterly

worthless pursuits, hoping for the praises of posterity. The

success of your species is one of the great problems occupying

the Great Link. By all rights the Klingons should have overrun

you years ago. You yourself, door repairman -- and we have been

watching you -- are an extreme example of this tendency to

disorder, but there is something of you in every human."

"And your point is . . ."

"In order to prepare the ground for a Dominion pacification

of the Alpha Quadrant, it is first necessary to rearrange certain

systems that are already present. It is a large task. Bajor

presents a convenient test case. We find the Bajorans rather

deeper and more centred that humans. If we can turn them to our

cause we shall be well on our way. You occupy a position of some

importance within the Bajoran world view, strange as it may seem.

Your discovery of one of the sacred Orbs has led the Bajorans to

designate you a very minor saint. If you chose you would command

considerable influence."

"And what makes you think I'll choose? I have a contractual

agreement with Starfleet not to go in for stuff like this."

The Founder nods to the rear of the cabin. Two Jem'Hadar

warriors decloak and dash at DRG like hungry mastiffs. They park

themselves behind either shoulder and shout and snarl into his

ears while pointing weapons at different targets on his head.

"Hm. Threatened by violence. That unties my hands. But

what's in it for me?"

"We are going to make you Kai."

Camera closes in on surprised Door Repair Guy realizing it

could come true.

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

Cirroc Lofton as

Jake Sisko

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira

Salome Jens as

the Shapeshifter

Camille Saviola as

Kai Opaka

[Commercial: Windows 95 / "Start Me Up"]

View of the alien shuttlecraft at rest on a jagged planetary

surface. The Founder steps watchfully from the space vessel,

followed by Door Repair Guy.

Founder: "It should go without saying, but let me remind you

to remember not to be killed. The consequences are unpleasant."

DRG: "You're telling me. One time I got killed, and I had

the worst hangover afterwards."

She regards him.

"You there!"

They turn and find themselves in the sights of a homemade

disruptor wielded by a ferocious, scarified ruffian dressed in

leather armour.

"Hands up!"

The thug comes forward and frisks them. He retrieves a

portable eight track player and several cassettes from the

pockets on DRG's overalls. He glances at the labels as he backs

off.

"YMCA? Is that some sort of code? What does it stand for?"

DRG: "Your mother can't act."

The thug sticks the disruptor in DRG's face.

"You leave my mother out of it!"

The Founder: "The Kai will be displeased if you harm her

protege."

"Protege?"

"Has she not taught you the Prophecies?"

"Prophecies? Well. Yeah."

"Please recite the seventeenth prophecy of Vedek Yalult."

"Um. 'And there shall be nobody at the door, but the

doorkeeper himself will bear a message.'"

"Here is the doorkeeper of which the prophecy speaks."

DRG looks at her, surprised. The thug, out of his depth

theologically, tries to figure out their game, and can't.

"The Kai will decide that! This way!"

The two head off under the leather man's suspicious gaze.

[Commercial: Ringo Starr for cheese in the pizza crust]

View of Deep Space Nine. Cut to a corridor in the Habitat

Ring. Commander Sisko, Lieutenant Dax, and Chief O'Brien advance

down the corridor and halt before the police-tape-criss-crossed

and security-guard-guarded door of Door Repair Guy. Two security

guards come to attention.

Sisko: "I have the authorization of Admiral Nechayev to

enter these premises and conduct a search."

He hands the order to one of the security guards who reads

it and nods to the other, who keys in the security lockout

override and then carefully begins to unstick the police tape.

Sisko: "Just tear it, crewman."

The guard hesitates, then follows Sisko's advice, and Sisko

enters, followed by Dax and O'Brien. O'Brien and the other guard

give the frugal cop a look.

Frugal cop: "Waste not, want not."

Other cop: "I think the United Federation of Planets can

afford another ten feet of tape."

"Hey, we didn't get into space by throwing money around."

"As a matter of fact, that's just how we did it. Build 'em

and burn 'em. Look at Project Apollo."

"Ha. Recycle and reuse. Look at Skylab."

"Ha. Constitution-class starship."

"Ha. Martian Colony."

"Martian Colony?"

"The whole thing was financed by people saving the money

they would've ordinarily spent on pizza. They got the idea from

a _Life_ magazine article. Took a hundred and twelve years."

"What is pizza?"

"That's exactly my point."

"Yeah, but what is it?"

"I saw it in the food museum once. It's ooey-gooey."

"Ooey-gooey?"

"Yeah, cheese everywhere."

"Man."

"Even in the crust."

"Cheese in the crust?"

"Gross, eh?"

"I dunno."

"You mean you'd eat that?"

"I wouldn't close my mind to that."

"Man oh man."

Cut to the interior of the suite. Sisko, O'Brien and Dax

are roaming around the room taking tricorder readings.

O'Brien: "Just what is it we're looking for, Commander?"

"Answers, Chief. What do the Founders want with a door

repairman? For that matter, what did the House of Duras and the

Borg before them see in him? And how did he get from the Gamma

Quadrant to the Mulch Dimension? And how did I wind up with this

character on my station in the first place?"

O'Brien: "Dumb luck?"

"I've been trying to transfer him for six months but I can't

find a commander in Starfleet who'll agree to a trade. Now, if

we ever get the man back, the Judge Advocate General is going to

take him without compensation. If we can only find something

Starfleet Security has missed maybe we can salvage something from

this situation. So let's approach this methodically, people. I

want any clue that sheds some light on this man's past or frame

of mind."

Dax: "I'll check the record collection."

O'Brien rolls his eyes.

Sisko: "With all due respect to your former host, Dax, I

question the importance of this man's taste in music."

Cut to Kai Opaka with the eight track headphones on her

ears, bobbing her head with the disco beat, a smile spreading

across her face.

[Commercial: Pentium Intel Chip / "Satisfaction" (Devo version)]

A cave. Door Repair Guy wanders into the shot, hands in his

pockets, shuffling his feet with boredom. He comes to a rock,

looks around, and sits on it. It turns all soft. He yelps and

stands up. The rock morphs into the shapeshifter looking

embarrassed and slightly discomposed.

DRG: "Sorry!"

Shapeshifter: "A natural consequence of our differing

physical natures."

"It was unintentional."

"I believe you."

"I don't go around sitting on . . ."

"It is better forgotten."

We see an idea cross his mind.

"Besides . . . it would never work."

She turns.

"No. No, it wouldn't."

The leatherman enters.

"Come. You are wanted."

He escorts them through passages toward a large darkened

cavern. They are suddenly startled by a bank of lights, then a

second, then the first, then the second. The lights swivel

upward and catch the rotating facets of a mirrored globe, filling

the chamber with fragments of light. Kai Opaka glides up in

front of them, shouts, "Disco-o-o-o-o-o-o!!!!!!" and the music

begins to pound.

[Bob:

"It's Bob! Quick, screen capture!"

Shot of two kids in front of a Compaq Presario. CHRO

inhabits a small window in the corner of the screen. We see Bob

open his mouth to speak, then give a look of surprise as he's

lifted out of the shot and pasted into Dungeon of Torment. He

jumps up on the computer-animated couch, sees Grendel, leaps into

a rolling ball as three energy bolts shoot by, kicks the Ninja in

the head, grabs the axe, swings at Grendel once, twice, three

times, scores a hit causing Grendel to vapourize, sees the

machine-gun toting transsexual, leaps upward and grabs the

passing albatross by the feet . . .]

[Commercial: America On Line / "Pictures of Lily"]

The discotheque. Shot of DRG looking around in some

consternation. Members of the Ennis and Nol-Ennis, former blood

enemies, are competing on the dance floor. He looks around. The

shapeshifter seems to have blended into the crowd. He raises his

voice to be heard.

"Kai Oprah."

"Opaka."

"Kai Opaka. We need to talk."

"Not really! Your friend has told me all about you. I

really think you're just the man for this job."

"I don't know what you know about the Founders, but they're

not what they seem."

"How many of us are what we seem?"

"I don't know. A small number? The point is they're out to

trick you."

"Or could it be I'm out to trick them."

"Oh." He thinks about this.

Music:

"I believe in miracles.

Where ya been, you sexy thing?"

"I can't be Kai. It's crazy."

She points to him with two disco fingers.

"The prophecies all point to you."

"How?"

"'There will be one in the cloth of a Vedek.'"

"Orange? That's Maintainance Division."

"'He will oversee their coming in and their going out.'"

He scratches his head.

"'They shall dance to the sound of trumpets and drums.'"

He looks around the room. They are definitely doing that.

"Well, hm, if you put it that way. It could be me. But I

gotta tell ya, I haven't trained for this."

"Really? Tell me, what is the Third Law of Door Repair?"

"Huh? 'The key is under the mat.'"

"Please explain it in your own words."

"Well. People forget where they put the key, and then they

call a repairman for no good reason. If they'd stop worrying

about what they want to do on the other side they might remember

how to let themselves in."

"How would you apply that to the Celestial Temple?"

"The Wormhole? . . . Wel-l-l-l-l, I guess everybody's so

concerned about the Dominion that they forget that the Wormhole

isn't just a place to go through but . . ."

"But?"

". . . a place to go."

"Exactly! The Bajorans are in peril, repairman. They need

to be reminded that the dwelling place of the Prophets is the

Celestial Temple. The Founders, the Federation, the Cardassians

may come and go, but the Prophets are eternal. The Gates to the

Celestial Temple must remain open."

"Nearly everyone has tried to destroy the Wormhole at one

time or another."

"They must not succeed. You must prevent it. Remember, you

have the eleventh rank."

"Yeah. That's right. But what's stopping you from going

back and handling this yourself?"

She gets a faraway look.

"Once, before I entered the monastery, I was the religious

leader of a small farming village. This is my village now. And

these are my people."

"This is what the Founders brought me here for, you know.

I'd be doing their dirty work. They flattened New Bajor, and now

they want to take over Bajor itself."

"They are shapeshifters. We would turn them into us."

A statutesque blonde Swedish woman approaches them. She

takes DRG by the arm.

"You want to hustle, no?"

He turns to Opaka as he's drawn out onto the dance floor.

"I believe you."

[Commercial: Commodore 64/ "Put Another Nickel in the

Nickleodeon"]

DRG's quarters. Sisko, O'Brien and Dax continue to search

the premises. We see O'Brien flip through his two-hundred-and-

fifty-ninth _Field and Stream_, finding nothing but the

advertising insert, which falls out like all the rest before it.

He bends, stiffens, and straightens with a groan.

Sisko: "What is it, Chief?"

O'Brien: "Nothing, just me flamin' back."

"Report to Doctor Bashir as soon as we get done here."

"If we ever get done here. Have you ever seen such an dog's

breakfast of useless and antiquated odds and sods? I mean, look

at this." He gestures toward a jackhammer.

Dax is scanning the walls carefully. We see her pause,

examine a dovetail joint in a pattern of interlocking metal

Cardassian tiles, and push against the opposite sides of two

adjacent tiles. They fold apart like a Chinese puzzle. Behind

them is a cubby-hole. She retrieves an isolinear rod and waggles

it in the air triumphantly.

Sisko: "Play it."

She slips it into DRG's Sony Iso 5000. On the monitor the

figure of a Cardassian in facepaint and flowing garb appears,

performs several poses with an inflated bladder on a stick, and

warbles in a headsplitting musical scale.

O'Brien: "Jaysis Murphy! Cardassian folk-dancing! Cut the

power!"

Sisko: "Wait!"

The folk-dance recording breaks up and is replaced by a

head-and-shoulders shot of a single Cardassian. The scene is

dark and the Cardassian is visible in little more detail than

silhouette, but it is obvious that the man is very seriously ill.

He speaks in a quiet, faltering voice:

"This is the final disposition of Borot, assistant

underquartermaster of the space station Terok Nor. I am making

this recording in the hope that it may escape the attention of my

enemies, as I have not, and someday fall into the hands of some

disinterested party who may judge it for its true worth. For

some months I have been growing increasingly ill from arsenic

poisoning despite my efforts to counter the effects, and I now

have only days of life remaining. I believe my murderer is my

friend and messmate Nufrek to whose delicious yamok sauce I have

long been addicted. Nufrek and I have both been engaged in

treasonous and criminal activities against the state, the

punishment for which is execution, so I consider myself not

unjustly but unkindly served. What act have I committed to

deserve execution, you wonder? I have used my position in the

station quartermaster's office to smuggle a Bajoran Orb from the

hands of the Cardassian government. I have done this at the

behest of the religious leader of the Bajorans, one Kai Opaka.

Why, you ask me? Because I recognize the affinity between the

Cardassian and Bajoran peoples. I have been a student of

Cardassian folk-music since my youth, and consider it the peak

not only of Cardassian culture, but of all civilization

everywhere. I know that all educated Cardassians will agree.

One day on the planet I witnessed a child in a Bajoran work camp

perform a dance I myself had learned at that age. When I asked

the Bajorans what Cardassian had taught the child the dance they

claimed (though reluctantly and only after the threat of

punishment) that it was an ancient Bajoran dance. My researches

later proved this to be true. Whether the Bajorans learned the

dance from the Cardassians, or vice versa, I do not know, but the

incident convinced me that the Occupation is misguided and

destructive to both the Bajoran and Cardassian cultures. When I

was approached by Kai Opaka to hide an Orb from the authorities,

I agreed, though I knew the consequences. I took Nufrek into my

confidence, but I now see it was a fatal mistake. Who has turned

him against me I do not know, but fortunately I have kept the

location of the Orb a secret, one that will die when I die. I am

making this recording not knowing who will find it or when, but

if the discoverer is Gul Ducat" -- a fit of coughing overtakes

him -- "eat my shorts."

Dax pumps a fist.

"Yes!"

O'Brien and Sisko, both of whom have been moved by the

recording, stare at her in disbelief.

Dax (regaining her professional poise): "I called it, you

see. Borot acting alone. Major Kira and Doctor Bashir owe me

dinner in the Klingon restaurant."

O'Brien: "Bloody charming."

Sisko: "Dax, please be so good as to alert Constable Odo of

this new evidence in the Borot case."

"Okay!"

She's off, ponytail flying.

O'Brien: "I hope I don't go that strange when I'm her age."

[Commercial: Corel Draw / "Paint It Black"]

A street scene in the Old Quarter of 24th-century Paris.

Lovers stroll from newsstand to newsstand. A restored 21th-

century Citroen roars past, honking at Parisians on grav-

scooters. The camera moves toward an antique Volkswagen Beetle

pulled up against the curb. A constable of the Sûreté is writing

a ticket.

Constable: "Stupid Boche auto. Do you not know it is one

hour parking seulement? Can you not read the notification, you

illiterate conveyance? This is France. You cannot park with

impunity. Here we have regulations, you know. I will write you

a ticket, and then you will understand, will you not? Haw haw,

yes, then I think you will understand a little better. Your

stopping will take on a new complexion, I warrant you. Perhaps

then you will observe the posted regulation. Imbecilic voiture."

He continues to write, then glances indignantly from pad to

pen. He clicks the pen repeatedly, tries to continue writing

with it, then holds it between his thumb and forefinger and

addresses it:

"Idiot pen. You are out of ink."

He thrusts the pen between his ear and the brim of his

pillbox hat. Then he puts his fists on his hips and glances

angrily this way and that as he works on a solution to his

dilemma. Through the rest of the scene a trickle of black ink

grows down the side of his face toward his collar. Meanwhile, in

the background, a man in a black cap and mask is robbing a

passerby. The passerby puts his hands up and shouts for help as

the robber frisks him and relieves him of wallet, watch, and

computer pad. The victim begins to broadcast his appeal directly

to the constable. The robber pulls out a blackjack, clubs his

victim to the ground, and starts off past the constable. The

constable grabs him by the arm.

"One moment please, my good fellow."

The robber glowers back sullenly.

Constable: "Do you have a Bic?"

"Pardonne?"

"Avez-vous un Bic?!"

"Un Bic?"

"Oui! Un Bic! Un Bic!"

"I do not even know what un Bic is."

"Un pen! Stylo! Street ragamuffin that you are!"

"Ah! Un Bic! D'accord!"

He gives the constable a Bic and steals off.

The cop writes the ticket and turns with a flourish toward

the Volkswagen. The car is gone. He snaps around and searches

the street for the departed robber.

"That suspicious fellow has somehow absconded with the

voiture."

He hurries off in pursuit, pausing only to disentangle his

legs from the leash of a supermodel's poodle. The camera lingers

until the outraged supermodel has dragged the dog past the

unconscious mugging victim, then pans toward the bank of the

Seine. A woman in a beret is seated at an computer easle, adding

touches pixel by pixel to a nearly completed view of the Left

Bank. She sits back and lights up a Gallois, releasing blue

smoke into the atmosphere. She studies the picture critically.

The camera moves in on the matte painting. It is a charming

scene, but lacks any reference to Star Trek whatsoever. She

bends down, rolls the mouse around on the pavement, and with a

double click replaces a chunk of greenery with the palatial

squares of the Federation Unie des Mondes headquarters.

Cut to a waiting-room outside the office of the President of

the Federation Council. Admiral Natalie Bartlett, Head of

Starfleet Security, and Captain Morgan Bateson of the USS Bozeman

are seated on a Louis Quatorze chaise lounge. A large black and

white long-haired feline darts here and there about their feet.

Captain Bateson, fitted out in 23rd-century dress uniform, has a

somewhat pallid look and is handling his leather portfolio as

though it were in actuality an inflatable life preserver.

Bartlett: "My, my, Captain, you're sweating like a piano

deliveryman."

Bateson: "Oh God. Forgive me, Admiral, but I've never been

in such an important waiting-room before. Through that door

there are decisions being made that affect the lives of trillions

of people. You know, I must admit it, this Gamma Trianguli VI

affair has me a little flustered. I've never encountered such

wholesale mischief as that perpetrated by that Door Repair

fellow. His movements have left a trail of misdeeds that would

astonish, well, a President of the Federation Council! Just

think of it. I've been collecting evidence on that wrongdoer for

months now, travelling from sector to sector, and in a few

moments I'll be briefing the President of the Federation Council.

Of course you realize a favorable impression could be the key to

a brilliant career. A faux pas on the other hand could spell

disaster. Let me tell you it's not easy making up for eight

decades caught in a temporal loop. A man in my position needs to

leap at every opportunity he can get."

Bartlett: "And you have."

Bateson (blushing): "Oh, Admiral."

His portfolio beeps. He looks at it in surprise.

"I told them only to call me in the extremest emergency!"

He takes out the computer pad.

"Bateson here! What is it?"

*Captain, this is Admiral Nechayev. I just thought I'd call

to inform you that your suspect has been abducted by the

Founders. Nechayev out.*

Bateson sinks into his chair.

"This is a catastrophe."

The intercom buzzes on the Secretary's desk across the room.

"Oui, allo? Oui? Tres bien."

The Secretary addresses them.

"Ze President will see you in cinq minutes."

Bateson grabs the arm of the chaise lounge.

"I can't go in there! It's suicide!"

Bartlett: "Calm yourself, Captain."

"Oh God. Oh God."

He wrings his hands and looks for an avenue of escape. His

eyes fall on the Secretary. He crosses the carpet on his knees.

"Mademoiselle Secretary! Mademoiselle Secretary!"

He grabs her nameplate off the desk.

"Mademoiselle Nadon, I implore you, reschedule the

briefing!"

She makes an indignant snort. Admiral Bartlett drags him by

the collar to the chaise lounge. He clutches the nameplate to

his breast and weeps. He looks around desperately, suddenly

displacing his anxiety.

"Where's the cat gone? I knew this would happen! Felix!

Felix!"

Bartlett: "Don't worry, Captain. I have a subcutaneous

transponder."

Bateson (aghast): "My God! You put a transponder in your

cat?"

Bartlett (laughs): "No!"

She holds out the back of her hand in a "kiss my hand"

gesture. He stares uncomprehendingly at the hand, blinks, takes

it in his, bends forward and stops short as he notices the slight

bulge under the skin. His eyes widen. He notices the

voyeuristic smile on the Secretary's face. He kisses the

Admiral's transponder, sits back with an overabundance of false

bonhommie, throwing his hand in the air and announcing:

"Vive la difference!"

The Secretary makes a Parisian sound and returns to her

work. The intercom buzzes once more.

"Ze President will see you now."

Bateson's face takes on a look of renewed dread as Bartlett

bundles him into the President's office, the cat following close

behind.

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

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

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

Notes on Door Repair Kai, Part One:

This episode was written in the possibly mistaken belief that Camille Saviola appeared in the Village People movie.

Proponents of Mars colonization used to put forth the argument that a mission to Mars could be paid for with the money everyone would otherwise spend on pizza, thereby losing the support of everyone who enjoys pizza, which basically is everyone.

Windows 95 was launched in August 1995 with an ad campaign built around the Rolling Stones' "Start Me Up". I will return to this in a later installment.

The Clouseau scene. The painter is Star Trek SIG member Marilyn Matte, and I seem to recall that the Volkswagen is a reference to SIG member Michael di Cola. Natalie Bartlett was also of the SIG.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 39

Two Clues

Exterior tracking shot of Deep Space Nine. Cut to Major

Kira's quarters. Kira, Dax, Bashir and Odo are seated around a

card table. The camera moves in. Everyone is watching Odo

expectantly. He smiles and nods with satisfaction.

"Ah-ha. Just as I suspected. Colonel Mustard in the

conservatory with the revolver."

Collective exhalation as everyone concedes victory.

Kira: "I don't know how you do it, Odo."

Odo: "I do. Years of experience in the practice of criminal

investigation."

Bashir: "Or blind luck."

Odo: "Justice is blind, Doctor. Luck is cross-eyed."

Dax picks up the yellow piece, holds it in front of her

crossed eyes, and says: "You shall hang for this, Mustard."

A moment's silence as they look at her, wondering which

personality that came from. She shrugs and twinkles.

Bashir: "Odo, are you telling us you never failed to solve a

case? What about that Cardassian, Borot?"

"That is an ongoing investigation."

"But not an on-getting investigation. I'll tell you what I

think about Borot. He was murdered to keep him quiet about a

ring of smugglers operating on this station during the

Occupation. Somebody poisoned him with arsenic-laden yamok

sauce, and hid the body in a service conduit, and when you

brought these facts to the attention of the Cardassian

authorities some high-placed individual fingered Gul Ducat's

former personal chef Nufrek, who was speedily tried and executed,

thus protecting the true felon."

Dax: "And you think the real villain was Ducat."

Bashir: "It makes eminent good sense."

Dax: "But if Ducat is behind it, why didn't he retrieve the

Orb we found hidden in the service conduits? Surely of all the

contraband to come through here during the war, the Orb was the

singlemost valuable item. Ducat wouldn't have just abandoned it,

and he had ample opportunity to get it off the station even after

the Cardassians evacuated -- assuming he knew it was here."

Kira: "Don't tell me you think he didn't! He had control

over every living thing on this station! The only people he was

answerable to were in the Central Command! Hold on a minute!

Suppose Ducat *wasn't* the top man in the operation! Maybe the

Orb was too hot to handle and he had *orders* to leave it behind!

It all makes such sense! This could go right to the top of the

Cardassian chain of command!"

Bashir: "A grand conspiracy? More probably Ducat was

double-crossing his superiors, and it was too dangerous for him

to be connected to the Orb, which I'll just bet was stolen, not

only from the Bajorans, but from the Cardassian authorities as

well. I'm certain we're looking at a nest of black market war

profiteers headed by Ducat."

Dax: "But didn't the physical evidence place Borot in the

service conduit well before the Cardassian evacuation? If he and

the Orb are connected, you have to face the possibility that

knowledge of the Orb died with him. I can't see the Cardassian

government *not* wanting to get a Bajoran Orb to Cardassia as

soon as they knew it was here, and black marketeers would have

moved it out as soon as they could too. Besides, you can't prove

a conspiracy theory, grand or otherwise, if Ducat has already

covered his tracks. How can you hope to touch his superiors if

you can't touch him?"

Odo (standing): "Justice can touch anyone. Allow me to

thank you all for your insightful analyses. Now if you'll excuse

me, I have to see whether my guests in Security have been fed and

watered."

He leaves.

Dax: "Do you think we annoyed him?"

Kira: "No."

Bashir: "No."

Cut to Odo stomping along a corridor.

"Hmph. Amateurs."

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

Cirroc Lofton as

Jake Sisko

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira

The FTL pipeline undergoes a quantam polarity reversal while

the concomittant ring singularity displays a sync shift of 4764

microcochranes in consequence of which the terminal verteron

membrane dilates polychronously and a spaceship flies out.

[Commercial:

"FM77, all the hits of 1977, all the time! Great hits like

'You Make Me Feel Like Dancing', 'Undercover Angel', and 'Anarchy

in the UK'! The kind of music *you* want to here. FM77. It's a

great demographic!(tm)"]

The Sisko residence. Jake is slouched in an armchair

holding a computer pad in two hands and typing rapidly with his

thumbs. He finishes his paragraph, takes a deep breath, pages

back to the beginning and reads what he wrote.

"That's no good."

He deletes a sentence and reads on.

"Oh man, I used that word three times."

He deletes again.

"Oh, no, wait a minute. She wouldn't say that."

Delete.

"What did I say back there?" (Pause.) "Man, I deleted it!"

He makes a face, and throws the pad on the couch beside him.

"I gotta stop deleting so much."

His eyes fall on the replicator. He jumps up and goes over.

"Ah. Computer. I want a pencil. And some paper."

*Please specify lead type.*

"I don't want a lead pencil, I want a wooden pencil, like

they used to make. You know, yellow, with an eraser on the end.

No lead."

A pencil materializes, yellow, with an eraser on the end,

and no lead. A pad of yellow paper also appears.

He picks them up and inspects them with pleasure.

"I think the paper's supposed to have lines on it."

A pad of yellow paper with vertical lines appears. He turns

it around and puts it under his arm. He gives the pencil a good

look.

"It's supposed to have a carbon core isn't it?"

*Please specify carbon core type.*

"Ah, what are the choices?"

*HB, 2B, 3B, 4B, 5B, 6B, -- *

"Computer! 2B."

A 2B pencil appears. He picks it up.

"2B or not 2B." He grins at his own erudition.

"And a pencil sharpener."

A crank-type pencil sharpener appears.

Cut to Jake, back in the chair, trying to hold down the

pencil sharpener, hold in the pencil, and turn the crank, using

only two hands.

"I think this thing has to be bolted down."

Dissolve to Jake leaning over the table with his tongue

stuck out the corner of his mouth, scribbling furiously on the

yellow pad with the 2B pencil. Scrunched-up sheets of paper lie

everywhere. Beside him is the pencil sharpener bolted to the

side of the table. Benjamin enters. He's about to say

something, but sees Jake hard at work and starts to move as

quietly as he can to the next room. His curiosity gets the

better of him however and he drifts back, craning to see over

Jake's shoulder. Jake, sensing his presence but in the middle of

a thought, shifts around so Benjamin can't see. Benjamin dodges

the other way and Jake makes an exasperated face and moves again.

Benjamin puts his hands on Jake's shoulders and leans past him to

read.

"Dad!"

"Oh, come on, Jake! Don't you know your old man's curious

about his son's writing career?"

"I won't have one if I don't get some privacy."

Benjamin puts Jake in a headlock and affectionately rubs his

knuckles on his scalp. He releases him and thinks.

"You could borrow one of the rooms in the unused Habitat

levels. You'd get plenty of peace and quiet there. I'll get

Major Kira to assign you one."

"Swell."

Cut to Jake moving down an unused corridor with his yellow

pad, a handful of pencils, and his pencil sharpener. He comes to

a door. He checks the room number against the number on his pad

and presses the door control. It makes a "please enter access

code" bleep. He checks his pad again and enters the number into

the control. The door opens. He enters.

"Computer. Lights."

They come up dimly.

"Cardassian. Computer, human light level."

*Please imput environmental default reset code.*

"Man, I don't know it. Forget it for now, computer."

He crosses the empty room to the window. In the distance

the Wormhole opens, admits a tiny speck, and closes again.

"Wow! Great view!"

He looks around the room, pleased with his new studio.

"I'll have to get a desk. And a chair."

He goes to the wall and begins to bolt his pencil sharpener

to a metal protrusion. It's a bit of a struggle. All at once

the piece of wall comes away in his hands. He looks at it in his

hands, then into the hole in the wall.

"Latinum!"

Shot of the heap of ingots.

[Commercial:

"New PUMP-FM! We only play *your* favorite band. And only

*their* best album!"

Play-out: "Love in an elevator"]

Ops. Kira looks up from her console.

"A Bajoran vessel has just entered the Wormhole."

Dax: "That's unusual. There's hardly been any Bajoran

traffic through the Wormhole since the destruction of New Bajor

by the Dominion."

"I wonder what they're doing."

Dax: "There's an incoming message from Bajor."

"On screen."

We see an officer of the Bajoran Defence Force.

*Major Kira. A Defence Force fighter has been stolen and is

headed toward the Wormhole. You must intercept it.*

"I'm sorry, General. It's already gone through."

*Then the crew is doomed. The Jem'Hadar will see to that.*

"There's still time to send out a runabout and bring them

back."

*It's just as well.*

"Just as well? Shouldn't we at least try to rescue them?"

*Major. This is not the first such incident. Members of

the Circle have attempted this several times in the past month.

So far we have managed to stop them inside the Bajoran system.

These ones got the jump on us.*

"I don't get it. What are they up to?"

*We don't know. Please institute a standard sweep for

Bajoran vessels approaching the Wormhole and place any you find

under arrest. As of this moment all Bajoran traffic through the

Wormhole is forbidden by order of the Provisional Government.*

The transmission ends.

Kira: "Don't know, or won't say."

Dax: "Our communications relay on the other side is still

operational. Maybe we can use it to make contact with the

Bajoran vessel."

"Try it."

Dax plays the controls.

"I have visual contact."

"On screen."

We get a static-laden image of the interior of the fighter.

The pilot and navigator are shouting.

*Three more to starboard!*

*Evasive!*

The scene rocks.

*Shields down!*

*I have to -- !*

The console in front of the pilot explodes, killing him. We

see the navigator twist around toward the navigational control,

then fix his stare at a monitor there. We can almost read the

approaching torpedoes in his look. In the last instant he

shouts:

*The true Kai!*

The scene explodes and ends.

Kira steps toward the screen, shaken, realization dawning.

"The true Kai!"

[Commercial:

"New CLUB-FM, the first members-only radio station. If

you're not jammin' with us, we're jammin' you."]

Security. Odo is at his desk. The doors slide open and

admit Quark.

Quark: "I heard young Sisko found some latinum."

"That's right."

"It's mine."

"It's yours?"

"Yes, that's right. It's mine."

"I didn't see your picture on it. How do you know it's

yours?"

"By process of elimination. The latinum was hidden in that

wall during the Cardassian regime. Am I right?"

"It appears that way."

"Who was here then who's here now?"

"There was me, you, and your brother Rom."

"Does the latinum belong to you?"

"No."

"If it belongs to Rom, it falls to me. He owes me money.

That leaves me. It must be mine."

"Impeccable thinking, Quark. Tell me, if it's yours, will

you be willing to answer the criminal charges pending against the

owner?"

"Criminal charges?"

"It turns out the suite in which the latinum was found was

once the residence of chef Nufrek, a convicted murderer and

suspected black marketeer. There is strong evidence that that

money was used to purchase the Orb later found in the service

conduits. Under Bajoran law, the purchase of stolen religious

property is a serious offense."

"How serious?"

"They're always looking for field labourers in the farmland

reclamation project."

"You won't find my fingerprints on that money! Black

marketeering! Who ever heard of such a thing? I'm an honest

businessman doing an honest day's work! In fact, I've got no

time to stand around here and indulge you in your fishing

expeditions. Goodbye!"

The doors close behind him.

Odo smiles and nods his head.

[Bob:

"Hey, back to Door Repair Guy in a minute, but first we're

here at Cape Canaveral, Florida, and you can see it just behind

me, that's the Space Shuttle Atlantis, and you may have heard

that NASA is going to privatize the space shuttle program, and

guess who's going to buy the Space Shuttle Atlantis? You guessed

it! Baton Broadcasting! And of course CHRO is a member of the

Baton Broadcasting family! So pretty soon you're going to see

the word NASA painted out and the BBS logo painted on there, and

I'll bet you're wondering how is this going to affect your

television viewing? Well let me tell you it'll be just . . .

well, I'll tell ya, whoa boy. Because once a month for eight

days a month we'll be broadcasting *live* from orbit! That's

right, CHRO and all the other BBS affiliates will receive live

broadcasts -- direct from orbit! Our set guy is already working

on the studio module that'll fit right into the cargo bay . . .

right here . . . boy, it's tough holding this mike and this model

at the same time. Here, can you hold th[rumple] . . . closer, that's

good, just like that, and anyway, as you can

see, this remote manipulator arm, the Canadarm, makes a great

sound boom. So no more clip-on mikes! Isn't science wonderful?

And anyway, who do you think is slated for the first mission?

Can you guess? It's not Ian Black. No, not J.J. Clark." He

waits. "No, it's not Peter Van Dusen." He stands waiting. We

see the camera guy's fingers count off four, three, two. Grumpy:

"Back to Door Repair Guy after this."]

[Commercial:

"So many radio stations seem to be programmed for people

drinking coffee. Now there's BEER-FM. When you wanna shout

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! -- it's BEER."]

Sisko's office. We see him studying his computer screen

with close attention and gathering forehead musculature. The

door chimes. He shuts off the computer display and says, "Come

in!"

Major Kira enters.

"Benjamin, there's something developing on Bajor you should

know about."

"What is it, Major?"

"Rumours are spreading that Kai Opaka is still alive.

Several members of the Circle have tried to get through the

Wormhole to make contact with her. So far as we know they have

all either been intercepted by the Bajoran Defence Force or blown

up by the Jem'Hadar. I don't get how this story got out. Only

you, I, and Doctor Bashir knew the truth about the Kai."

"This may enlighten you." He retrieves the file he was

reading and turns the screen toward her.

Kira scans it. "A top Starfleet intelligence officer in

charge of Bajoran affairs has defected to the Maquis! I guess

that would explain it. She must have read your report to

Starfleet."

"I take it this will have a destabilising effect."

"I would call that an understatement. I think we're looking

at wholesale religious war."

"Just what everybody needs."

Dax: *Transmission from Kai Winn, Benjamin.*

"Here we go. Put it through, Dax."

Kai Winn appears on the computer screen.

*Emissary. How good of you to take my call so quickly.

Kira, child, what a pleasant surprise. I hope I find you both in

spiritual health?*

Sisko: "As well as can be expected, Kai Winn. To what can

we credit your call?"

*Oh, Emissary, would that it were simple fellowship. How I

value our talks together. But, sadly, the forces of evil are at

work once again on the minds of our poor beleaguered people. Not

only must we religious leaders struggle against the pernicious

brutalizing legacy of the Cardassian occupation, not to mention

the irreligious influence of interplanetary scientific humanism

and relativistic philosophies, but now we have the new spectre of

schismatic doctrine within our own dear religion. Formerly

worthy followers have begun to question the authority of the

office of the Kai and to circulate the heinous untruth that our

sainted Kai Opaka is not only alive, but preparing to return to

Bajor and assume the government of the planet. How could such a

story have gained currency? Everybody knows the Kai left this

life and joined the Prophets in the Celestial Temple when she was

travelling in your care. Isn't that true?*

Kira and Sisko make no move toward answering.

*I said, isn't that true?*

Sisko: "No, Kai Winn, it isn't true."

Kai Winn presses her hand to her breast in apparent shock.

*Child, is what the Emissary tells me true? Have I been the

victim of a deception?*

"That's correct. You were misled."

*Emissary, how have I offended you that you should take such

an ungenerous attitude toward the Bajoran people?*

"Kai Winn, we were respecting the wishes of Kai Opaka. She

didn't want others to follow her into danger."

*Well, we have danger now, don't we? Danger that millions

of Bajorans will fall into the error of disobedience. Far be it

from me to criticize the Prophets' chosen one, but I'm truly

sorry you weren't able to keep your little secret. I wonder what

sort of bad advice you've been receiving, Emissary. I sometimes

wonder why there is no Vedek resident on a Bajoran station. Kira

Nerys, how many people will suffer because of this lapse of

yours?*

Kira shows some reluctance in answering.

*I asked you how many?*

"I don't know the answer, Kai Winn."

*You don't know. Then perhaps next time you'll think. Kai

Winn out.*

Kira exhales. They glance at each other.

Sisko: "I'm sure I had her in Grade Three. Please put the

Defiant on alert status. It looks like we'll be making a trip

into the Gamma Quadrant."

[Commercial:

"Tune your radio to AM 590: Happy Radio. Optimistic-only

programming for work and play. Why get sad when you can get

Happy? (tm)"]

Camera moves in on Odo in his office. He is addressing his

communications screen.

"Thank you for taking my call, Glinn Alcol."

*We are instructed to co-operate in whatever way we can with

our new Bajoran friends. How can I help you?*

"I require access to certain records accumulated during the

occupation of Bajor."

*Surely you must know those records were transferred to the

Provisional Government under the terms of the peace treaty.*

"I am aware of that. I am also aware that a Cardassian

would rather part with his life than his documents. I'm sure you

kept a copy of everything. I would not be bothering you, but

this is a matter that requires a certain measure of discretion.

I find it expedient to go around the Bajorans in this matter."

*I appreciate the sentiment. I will agree to assist you, as

long as you undertake to protect the confidentiality of your

source.*

"Agreed."

*Now, what is it you would like to know?*

"I am transmitting a fingerprint to you now. Whose is it?"

We see the Cardassian turn and tap at a computer control.

His eyes widen ever so slightly. He turns to the screen.

*Your request has produced a positive identification. I am

relaying it to you now.*

We watch Odo's face as the answer appears on his screen.

"This is more than I anticipated. Thank you for your

assistance. Odo out."

A clanking wheeze is heard. The Security office doors open

and Borg implant specialist Not Fragile steps over the threshold

carrying a large tool box.

"Not Fragile to see Door Repair Guy."

Odo (advancing from the communications screen): "For what

purpose?"

"His regular tune-up."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question. The prisoner is

under maximum security confinement facing a variety of charges

ranging from noise bylaw violation to tampering with the space-

time continuum. No visitors."

The Borg steps forward and places the tool box on Odo's

desk.

"Constable, you fail to appreciate the true importance of

your prisoner. He is the first of what I would call a new model

of Federation citizen. Practically everything we've learned

about elective recreational cybernetic implant surgery we've

learned from that man. He is a prototype, a test model. Which

is to say that any one of his components could blow out at any

time. From what I've heard he has been putting his systems under

stresses totally unplanned for in the design specifications.

Now, if I were Doctor Bashir and I came in here worried about the

health of one of your prisoners you'd usher me right in. How is

this any different? How do you propose to explain it to

Starfleet Security when you go in there tomorrow morning and find

him dead on the floor?"

"GRrrrrrr. If you put it that way. But the file stays

here."

Not Fragile pauses, opens his tool box, removes a large rasp

file, and drops it on the desk.

Odo: "If you'll follow me."

[Commercial:

"I work underwater. When I'm on a job I like to take along

my waterproof FM radio. But music doesn't sound the same in a

liquid medium. All my favorite songs sound weird. Isn't there a

radio station that plays songs *I* like, in a way that lets me

enjoy them while *I* work?"

"Now there is! FM-WET, the new underwater music source.

FM-WET. Water, water everywhere, and great tunes too! (tm)"]

Odo and Not Fragile enter the holding area. Paving

Contractor leaps to his feet in one cell and begins to harangue

them, but the white noise filter is on. He is quite expressive

in body language though.

Odo steps to the control console and deactivates the force

field to the other cell. The force field shimmers and

disappears. Door Repair Guy blinks, sits up and yawns.

Not Fragile: "You'll have to switch off the transporter

damping field too. I can't examine his personal transporter

otherwise."

Odo growls and turns it off.

DRG: "So where's your lovely assistant Madeline? I thought

you two were a pair. You know, sort of a John and Yoko thing

going on there."

Odo: "It's a trick!"

He reaches for the damping control but Not Fragile and Door

Repair Guy disappear in a Dominion transporter effect.

Odo: "Gah!"

He hits his commbadge.

"Odo to Sisko. The Dominion has just kidnapped Door Repair

Guy."

Cut to Sisko hurrying along a corridor toward the Defiant.

He slows at the news, blinks, speeds up, stops, puts one hand on

his hip and scratches the nape of his neck.

DRG and Not Fragile materialize inside an alien vessel. Not

Fragile looks at Door Repair Guy and transmogrifies into the

spokeswoman of the Founders.

"You're not Not Fragile!"

"But that doesn't mean I'm fragile either."

And she knocks him out with a mallet where her hand ought to

be.

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

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

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

Notes on Two Clues:

At some point in the early 1990s all local radio stations became demographically oriented. It really bugged me that one Ottawa station used a clip of Alanis Morrissette's "You Oughta Know" in its ads as an example of the kind of music they wouldn't play.

Ian Black was the local CBC weather man. J.J. Clarke was the local CTV weather man.

Baton Broadcasting System.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 38

Mulch Ado About Nothing

A pastoral scene. A grassy meadow slopes down toward a

meandering tree-lined stream. Birds twirl and dart in the gentle

breeze. Partway up the slope a woman is beating a man with the

root end of a large weed.

"Ow! Hey! Ow!"

Official Botanist throws the plant aside, shakes her fist

under Door Repair Guy's nose, then takes off down the slope and

into the trees.

He stands and begins to finger-comb the dirt out of his

hair.

"Crazy botanists. I gotta get some survival tips from Chief

O'Brien."

He picks up his baseball cap and has a look at it.

"About due for a fresh uniform, I'd say."

Then he notices the colour of the hand holding the hat.

"Yikes! What happened to you? Gamma particle radiation?"

He catches a scent, then holds his wrist under his nose.

"Sauerbraten?"

He blinks, then starts off down the hill.

Music: recorder and viol.

The Goddess Fortuna turns her wheel, the winds of Time

blowing her loose tresses and rippling robes. The scene whites

out and is replaced by the motto:

}+{----------------------------------------------}+{

) | Crawlspace: the Final frontier. These are the | (

) | voyages of the Door Repair Guy. His mission: | (

[== | to install & maintain proximitie-activated | ==]

[== | Entranceways, to Stake out new rooms & new | ==]

) | service conduits -- to Boldly go where No one | (

) | with a Pass key has gone before. &&&&&&& | (

}+{----------------------------------------------}+{

The motto fades to a scene of the Muses moving through a

courtly dance. Each one carries an emblem representing one of

the planets. We recognize the sceptre of Jupiter, the mirror of

Venus, the bat'telh of Qo'noS. In the corner a putti holds up a

shield emblazoned with the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A page steps forward, unfurls a banner over his arm and

draws it toward him so that the embroidered words scroll upward.

Starring

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Also Starring

Joe Pesci as

The New Mayor

Faye Dunaway as

Social Climber

Christopher Lloyd as

Impractical Scientist

Amanda Plummer as

Official Botanist

Robertson Davies as

Pompous City Councillor

Harold Pinter as

Himself

Jimmy Smits as

Good Cop

Dennis Franz as

Bad Cop

A boy wearing Tudor costume raises a globe above his head

and a girl in ruffles and a lace cap lifts up a model of the USS

Jenolen, produces a long dive-bomber sound and smashes it into

it.

[Commercial:

Caption: "1734. Somewhere in Canada."

Two men are paddling a birchbark canoe along a lake. We

hear a mosquito's buzz.

"Such wilderness, William."

"Today, yes, Jacques. But someday, someday it will be a

great country."

Jacques swipes at the mosquito. "You think so, eh?"

"Absolutely. You see, they shall perfect a game called

hockey, invent the telephone, save England and France -- twice --

and make one incredibly good beer, a true Canadian dark ale."

Buzz! Jacques smacks himself in the face. "Mudder of God!"

"Yes, that's it!"

Guitar riff. Labatt Genuine Mud.]

DRG stumbles through the brook, climbs up the far shore and

stops. In the sylvan glade ahead of him stands a small cluster

of thatched cottages. Villagers in homemade clothes are already

putting aside their farm implements and shading their eyes in his

direction. Someone points. Two kids come tearing out along a

narrow dirt path toward him.

Boy: "Hey! Hey!"

Girl: "Oh! Hey! Oh!"

They come to a screeching halt and stare up at him, each

with one eye screwed shut in the sun.

DRG: "Is this Nepean 6?"

Boy: "Yeah!"

DRG: "How'd you two get here?"

Girl: "Same as you! Playin' with the weed wacker!"

DRG: "Well, just stay away from the automated spike harrow,

will yeh?"

Both: "Aw!"

Cut to Pompous City Councillor hurrying Impractical

Scientist through the village square. They round a corner.

Impractical Scientist, taking off his straw hat:

"By Apollo, lord of the measuring rule!"

He dashes toward Door Repair Guy and catches him in a bone-

crunching bearhug.

DRG: "Ow! Okay! Uncle!"

Impractical Scientist lets go suddenly and DRG's arse

impacts the earth.

"I'll thank you to call me Father from now on!"

"Yeah. Okay. I know. I get it."

He picks himself up. Most of the village is now gathered

round and clammering for news of the other dimension.

Impractical Scientist is too pleased to stay mad for long and is

soon waving his arms for quiet.

DRG is saying: ". . . and so the Cardassians and the

Bajorans signed this peace treaty, and then Kai Winn took control

of the Provisional Government and . . ."

Pompous City Councillor: "Yes. yes. This is all very well

and good. But who is Mayor in Nepean?"

"Boyhood Friend is."

The bearded councillor puts a hand over his heart and begins

to stagger backwards.

Impractical Scientist: "Has he taken the transdimensional

weed-wacker out of the Parks and Recreation Department

inventory?"

"Banned them totally. Well, okay, he gave me one."

"And that's how you got here!"

DRG thinks. "I guess. I don't remember."

There's a jostle in the crowd and Social Climber breaks

through, followed by a now demure and observant Official

Botanist.

"Goodness gracious, will you look at--"

Social Climber's eyes fall on his Bajoran ear-ring.

"Oh God, Bratty! Don't tell me you're gay!"

"Mom."

Official Botanist: "Poor men." She tiptoes out from behind

his mother and smiles up at him blandly.

DRG lifts his baseball cap, scratches more earth out of his

scalp, and looks around at the vegetation crowding in on the

village. "I gotta say, there's plenty of work in these parts for

a good plant expert. Think you'll ever find one?"

Official Botanist: "I'd say I'm quite qualified after all

those many dates I spent watching you go into a vegetative state

in front of the game."

The crowd exchange significant looks and move back to give

them more room.

DRG: "I think you must of been watching university of the

nose in the air."

Official Botanist: "Ha. You confuse the morning with the

night."

DRG: "Ha. Nightfall is the lover's morning. Most notorious

lovers sleep in late."

Official Botanist: "Most notorious beer-drinkers as well."

DRG: "Could it simply be that I was drunk with love?"

Official Botanist: "Could it simply be that you were in love

with being drunk?"

DRG: "You seem to have forgotten that the weekend is for

fun."

Official Botanist: "Well, now I know why they call it the

weak end."

Pompous City Councillor to Impractical Scientist: "Oh, dear.

They're not going to start rapping, are they?"

"No, they really like each other. Can't you tell? Okay,

kids! Enough fun for now! You'll have plenty of time to diss

later. Right now I want to talk to the lad about some

inventions."

That scatters the villagers.

DRG: "Have you been working on the weed wacker?"

Impractical Scientist: "Well, off and on. To tell you the

truth there's nobody that interested in getting back. Well,

except your uncle. And Harold Pinter. He didn't even write

_Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_ you know."

"Who was it?"

"Tom Stoppard."

"I always get those two guys mixed up."

"Come on and I'll show you a fully-automated methane-powered

spike harrow I just completed."

"Cool!"

They head off through the village.

[Commercial:

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morning on an Italian Renaissance portrait and it comes out

looking like something the cat brought in. What a mess! Isn't

there anything an art forger can do? Well, now there is! Say so

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Titian Magician will not stain clothing or upholstery. Throw out

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hello to Titian Magician! It's only [voiceover: $99.95!

Canadian fifty dollar bills not accepted.] But wait, there's

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That's Titian Magician, complete with fifteen pre-measured colour

capsules, and Klee-O-matic, all for the low, low price of

[voiceover: $99.95]. Operators are waiting. Dial 1-800 RED-

HAIR! That's 1-800 RED-HAIR!"]

A log cabin in the woods. Cut to the interior. The style

is early Grizzly Adams.

Uncle Paving Contractor sits behind his new maple desk,

running his hands over the smooth surface. Rosencrantz and

Guildenstern stand attentively in the corner, nervously awaiting

his verdict.

"I once had a desk like this in my chambers. When I had

chambers. When there *were* chambers."

He makes a fist. Close-up of the fist as he brings it down

on the surface. He's wearing a pinky ring.

Rosencrantz: "He dented it."

Guildenstern: "We French-waxed that for . . . how long?"

Rosencrantz: "I forget."

Paving Contractor stares out the window, deep in memory,

then comes back to the present and turns toward the two.

"Nice work, guys. But I ain't buyin'. It's got a nick."

He points to the newly-made depression with his pointing

finger (in his case not the one closest the thumb).

Rosencrantz: "You made it."

Paving Contractor blinks. "Whaddya mean 'You made it'?

You're the furniture guys. You made it."

Guildenstern: "Yes, of course, we made it. But you made

. . . it."

"It?"

"Yes, you made *it*."

"I don't follow you."

Rosencrantz: "Actually, we follow you."

Paving Contractor: "What is this? Are you messin' with me?

Don't mess with me."

They look nervously at one another.

Guildenstern tries another tack. "Imagine an ideal table.

A table as it exists, as it were, in the mind of God."

Rosencrantz (left behind): "A holy table?"

Paving Contractor looks from one to the other.

Paving Contractor: "A holy table?"

Guildenstern (pauses): "You could put it that way."

"I don't want no holy table. It's the hole in the table

right here which I'm talkin about."

He points again.

Guildenstern: "I'm referring to the ideal plane."

Paving Contractor: "And I'm referring to the ideal plane.

Get this desk outta here and don't bring it back til you get this

dent out with the ideal plane, or whatever. I don't need this

shit."

Rosencrantz: "Yes, that's what we mean."

"What is?"

Rosencrantz points to the dent with his middle finger.

Paving Contractor looks at the digit, grabs a baseball bat

(an earlier Rosencrantz and Guildenstern commission), and comes

around the desk after them. They run for it.

"You're no Joe l'Erario!"

Harold Pinter enters.

Paving Contractor: "The caretaker. About time. Where you

bin hidin out all day? Look at that roof."

"There's a new arrival in the town. Door Repair Guy."

Paving Contractor: "Door Repair Guy? Door Repair Guy?"

He stares out the window with wild eyes.

"Door Repair Guy!"

Harold Pinter: "I've never met Door Repair Guy."

"Huh? How do you think you got here?"

"I put it down to a continuity problem."

"Door Repair Guy! I never thought to see his face again."

He gestures around the room. "What you see here is all that

remains of a promising mayoral career on Nepean 5. On Nepean 5,

twelve months ago, I was a prince with power over thousands.

Now, because of Door Repair Guy, you see me bereft of everything,

including my beloved wife."

"She lives in the town."

"With my brother!"

"Her first husband."

"That good-for-nothing, and his no-good son. Door Repair

Guy. He threw a bat'telh at me. I got witnesses."

"Why don't you take it easy?"

"Take it easy? Take it easy? He tasks me, and I shall have

him, the little schmuck! C'mon!"

Paving Contractor starts for town with his Elsinor Slugger.

Harold Pinter takes a goatskin umbrella out of the umbrella stand

and follows him out the door.

[Commercial

"August 24-27 it's Bajor Days at Bayshore Shopping Mall!"]

Social Climber and Official Botanist are shelling peas.

Social Climber looks out the corner of her eye at the

younger woman.

"Now that Door Repair Guy's in town, I expect you two will

pick up where you left off."

Official Botanist looks at her in astonishment.

"No offense, but your son's a nincompoop!"

"Well, if you say. The Klingon women seemed to think he was

something."

"Huh! He's something, all right. The question is: what?

No offense."

"Well, you should know."

Official Botanist shakes her head in amazement and resumes

shelling. After a moment she stops and exclaims:

"Klingons!"

Social Climber purses her lips. They shell some more peas.

Social Climber: "He always thought you were the best-looking

girl in the Green Belt."

"Hmph."

"But that was years ago."

"Not that long."

"Nearly ten. I'm sure that torch died out long ago."

"Torch!?"

"Oh, never mind me."

"He broke it off."

"He was leaving for that Klingon job. There's nothing worse

than a long distance relationship. I'm sure he was thinking of

your feelings."

"My --!"

"Oh, yes, you know, Curling Club Secretary and Treasurer

said he said to Boyhood Friend that he wished he had an evil twin

to send to Qo'noS so he could stay in Nepean and live on UI with

you."

"What? No way."

"Curling Club Secretary and Treasurer is a reliable source."

"That may be. But you're talking about ancient history."

"I suppose. But I saw that look in his eye."

Official Botanist looks at her sceptically, picks up a

handful of peapods, then looks at her again.

Impractical Scientist activates the automated garage-door

opener and beams as it opens flawlessly.

"Made entirely of vegetable matter."

"Cool."

They go in. The place is a 24th-Century low-tech equivalent

of Da Vinci's studio. DRG notices a large cloth-covered

doorframe in the corner. He goes over and unveils it.

"Hey, an interdimensional gateway! Does it work?"

"No. It needs another like it on the other side."

"Hey! I've got one in my own place! I even left it on!"

"You're not kidding? That means we can return to Nepean 5!"

Impractical Scientist stops short and slips into thought.

DRG: "Don't tell me. You really don't want to go back?"

"I'm of two minds. We've begun to build a life here. Your

mother and I are back together. The location is . . . idyllic.

Best fishing I've seen in a long while. We'll all have to think

about this."

"Maybe people will want to move out here."

"Fine place to raise a family. But do we want suburban

development?"

"Once Uncle Paving Contractor sees this he'll be piping

asphalt through it in no time."

"We'll have to think about this. I'll have a word with a

few people on the Council."

Impractical Scientist leans back against his work table and

crosses his arms.

"Well, I agree with you. That Official Botanist is some

looker."

DRG puts down a homeblown glass retort with a look of

surprise.

"When did I say that?"

"Oh, a while ago. I didn't really notice til recently.

She's turned out to be a fine cut of a woman."

"So you're lookin at my girlfriends now!"

"So she's your girlfriend now?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Well, she sure acts that way."

"She's been after me since I got here."

"That's what I mean."

"That's not what I mean. Look at this bump."

"She just wants your attention."

"This isn't Grade Three."

"Ah. Some things don't change."

"You're a nut."

But you can tell he's thinking.

[Bob:

"Hi and back to Door Repair Guy in just a minute, and hey!

we're on a cruise ship out on the Rideau Canal somewhere between

Smith's Falls and Merrickville and I'm reminded of . . . light

beer. Ha!" Paces the deck with microphone. "Did you know you

can take a holiday vacation cruise with deck chairs and

everything, and shuffleboard, and it's right here in our own back

yard!" Glances over the rail at the top of a baseball cap moving

past. "Well, actually it's in his back yard. But there's a

Recreational Co-ordinator." He charges over to a uniformed

woman. "And you're . . ."

"Holly."

"And what port is home, Holly?"

"Peterborough."

"And have you ever been around the Horn?"

She's dumbfounded.

Bob realizes she's not going to say anything. He does a

fencing move in the direction of a retiree in a deck chair who

looks up in surprise at the mike between her book and her nose.

"How do you like the cruise so far?"

"Who are you?"

"Bob Cowan, CHRO news and current affairs!"

"I don't own a televison machine!"

He looks up at the camera.

"Then I'm Peter Van Dusen! We'll be back to Star Trek: Door

Repair Guy after this."

Shot of the wake and the two shorelines moving slowly to

stern.]

[Commercial: Paramount Marineland:

Everyone loves a holiday,

Watching the whales and the dolphins play,

A friend who cares splashing waves in your hair,

Everyone loves (speeds up to fit in all the syllables)

Paramount Marineland!

(Shot of a Klingon holding a fish over the pool. An orca

rises out of the water for the fish and the Klingon seizes the

whale around the neck and topples with it back into the water,

wrestling fiercely.)]

Paving Contractor stalks through the thatched village with a

baseball bat hidden behind his back. He sees Pompous City

Councillor.

"Hey! Whiskers! Where's that Door Repair loser?"

"I believe I would be remiss were I to direct an adversary

who bears both a grudge and a cudgel toward his whereabouts."

"What? This? I just wanted to recruit him for softball.

Now that he's here we can make a league."

"I'm completely misled. Still I don't know where he is."

"Grrr."

Paving Contractor heads off. Pompous City Councillor spots

Harold Pinter's umbrella.

"If you believe Robinson Crusoe to be the defining metaphor

of the Mulch Dimension you are mistaken. It is The Tempest."

"That would make you Alonso."

"Prospero, if you please."

"Impractical Scientist is Prospero."

"You're Trunculo."

"You're Stephano!"

"You're Ariel!"

"You're Caliban!"

"}:-b!"

">:-p!"

[Commercial:

"Lately the inhabitants of Upper Canada Village have begun

to notice strange visitors in their midst."

Candlestick-maker: "Nobody knows how they get here or where

they go."

Blacksmith: "They *say* they're from the future."

Shot of away team materializing in a circle, then taking

tricorder readings of the surrounding structures preparatory to

fanning out.

One villager to another: "I never noticed *that* before."]

Door Repair Guy trudges up the hillside toward the site of

his earlier beating.

"Can't believe I'm really doing this. She's going to knock

my brains out for sure this time."

He spots Official Botanist gathering specimens into a large

wicker basket with her back toward him. He comes up.

"Good pickin's?"

She turns with a gasp and an armload of wildflowers. She

stands there trying to think of something to say. Clearly she's

as agitated as he is.

DRG: "So . . . ah . . . whatya got there?"

"Ah. Lupinus polyphyllus, Angelica atropurpurea, Solidago

multiradiata, Rudbeckia serotina, and . . . um . . . this is

bastard toadfax."

"Ummm. Quite a variety."

"Well. Uh. You know. These are just terrestrial

varieties. We have whole ecosystems here from places we've never

seen. Apparently your dad is not the only one to hit on the

transdimensional weed wacker. The Mulch Dimension seems to be a

repository for cuttings from all over the universe. Over that

hill every growing thing is blue. No chlorophyll at all. I

haven't figured it out yet."

"You will."

She smiles suddenly, then bites her lips.

"So-o-o-o, I guess you made it big in the door business if

you're working in Starfleet."

"Well, up and down. I've gotta make up with the Door

Fek'lhr before I get any more Klingon work."

She puts her hand on his arm, surprising even herself. She

says:

"You will."

The camera comes around so that the sunlight's in their

hair. They tingle. Their eyes widen. Suddenly:

"I love you!"

"Ha!" Paving Contractor leaps out from behind a towering

elm with the baseball bat poised over his head. "I've got your

number now, you little twerp!"

Official Botanist: "Run for it!"

Door Repair Guy boots it down the hill with Paving

Contractor in hot pursuit.

[Commercial:

"It's Back-to-School Time at Shoppers' Drug Mart! Come in

this week for Waterworld drinkin' bottles, only 49 cents; loose-

leaf, three million sheet pack, $1.49; and Laurentian coloured

pencils Shades of Grey 24-pencil pack, just $1.29!"]

Shot of DS9.

Cut to corridor in the Habitat Ring. The camera moves

toward the police-taped entrance to Door Repair Guy's quarters.

Two security guards with coffee cups move into the shot and

slouch against the wall on either side of the door.

Good Cop: "Another sixteen hours of this stakeout and I'll

be ready for an excursion fare to Elba II."

Bad Cop: "Yeah, well, say hi to Garth. I'll lay you five to

one this fugitive is pushing up the bastard toadfax somewhere

where no one has gone before."

Good Cop: "I'll lay you five to one whoever programmed that

replicator came from a planet where they don't drink coffee."

Thump.

Bad Cop: "Did you hear that?"

Bump. Bang. Crash.

They draw their phasers and crouch against the wall with

both hands on their weapons. Good Cop hits his comm badge and

shouts, "This is Unit 54! We've got a B&E at 04-451! Yeah, the

door factory!"

Smash! Crash!

They nod to each other, Bad Cop reaches up and taps the door

control, and they pour through the opening door.

"Security! Freeze! I said Freeze! Look out, he's got a

bat!"

We see Paving Contractor swinging wildly while the two cops

dodge around the room. Good Cop finally brings him down with a

tackle to the gut. Bad Cop straddles the two and bellows:

"Get outta the way! Get outta the way! I'll fry him! I'll

fry him!"

Jump cut.

"I'll fry him!"

Good Cop gets the bat away from Paving Contractor and holds

an open palm up to Bad Cop's phaser.

"I got him! Just back off!"

Jump cut.

"Just back off!"

Bad Cop lowers his weapon with a look of disgust, then

immediately points it toward the corner of the room.

"Freeze! Put'em up!"

Camera zooms in on DRG putting his hands up behind the

recliner rocker.

Paving Contractor: "Let me outta here!"

Odo approaches the holding cell.

"Please, you're disturbing the other residents."

Odo nods toward the comatose DRG on the other side of the

cell.

"Where's my lawyer? I know my rights! You gotta charge me

or spring me!"

"There's the small matter of one hundred and forty-seven

counts of kidnapping."

"You'll never lay that one on me! When I get outta here--"

Odo taps the white noise control and walks off. Paving

Contractor continues his tirade in pantomine, during which DRG

wakes up, produces a harmonica, and begins to play in pantomine.

The last we see, Paving Contractor is chasing him around the

cell, trying to lay a beating on him, also in pantomine.

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

Written by Douglas A. McLeod ai919

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

Notes on Mulch Ado About Nothing:

Return to the Green Belt, and more Shakespeare!

The Labatt, Upper Canada Village and Marineland commercials are verbatim up until the punchlines. The back to school ad places this episode in August 1995.

Titian Magician!

Peter Van Dusen was on CBC Ottawa in the 1990s, before he moved to TVO.

UI. The Canadian government renamed unemployment insurance Employment Insurance in 1996. They did not however take the logical next step of renaming fire insurance Not On Fire Insurance.

Emoticons, or as we used to call them, smileys.

They rediscovered the jump cut on NYPD Blue.

Now I think a third Nepean episode is called for, but I never got back to it.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 37

Small Wonder

Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

The sickbay in what appears to be a Klingon vessel. Door

Repair Guy opens first one eye and then the other. His vision is

still pretty cloudy. A figure advances toward him and thrusts

the plate of targ and fries at him.

"nuq Hech'a'." ["What is the meaning of this?"]

And now this week's hair-raising episode:

We are in orbit above a maroon, purple and aubergine storm-

swirled planet. The camera turns toward space, sweeping past

Vor'cha-class targs-of-war beyond and between whose nacelles we

glimpse flight upon flight of additional Targ ships arrayed in

battle order. It is an invasion fleet to rival any in the last

five episodes. The camera lifts above the mighty armada, then

descends toward the command centre of one of the lead vessels.

(The Targs are still building vessels out of lead.)

The Targ Captain is slouched in the command chair, curling

her lips and flaring her nostrils, a gloved fist planted on each

armrest. The door to the outside corridor wheezes open and the

First Officer clomps in. The Captain swings her chair partway in

his direction and demands:

"jatlhpu''a' qama'." ["Has the prisoner spoken?"]

The First Officer grasps the command chair by the armrest

and back and pulls it further around toward him. He leans down,

flares his nostrils, and replies:

"vultaH." ["He is still unconscious."]

She sneers up at him and wraps a strand of her wavy red hair

around her finger.

"HaDI'baH Do'Ha'." ["Poor beast."]

The First Officer inhales sharply, shifts his weight, then

breathes out a long stream of lung-flavoured air over her face

and hair. She turns away with a calculating look and then

inhales, filling her chest.

Captain: "not Sor tera'ngan tIn vIleghpu'." ["I have never

seen a giant Tree-Human before."]

First Officer: "moHqu' 'oH." ["It is very ugly."]

Captain: "'oH moH law' SoH moH puS'a'." ["It is uglier than

you?"] She tilts her head in his direction.

First Officer (smirking): "moH jIH." ["I am ugly."]

Captain (smiling): "jIQochbe'." ["I agree."]

First Officer: "moHqu' jIH." ["I am very ugly."]

Captain: "ar'." ["How ugly?"]

First Officer: "moHqu'qu'." ["Very very ugly."]

Captain: "qaHarbe'." ["I don't believe you."]

First Officer: "jIH moH law' Hoch moH puS." ["I am the

ugliest of all."]

The Captain eases out of her chair and takes him by the arm.

"yItob." ["Prove it."]

She headbutts him through the opening doors.

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself (twice)

Suzie Plaxson as

Targ Captain

Michael Dorn as

Targ First Officer

Jessica Steen as

Targ Doctor

Andrew Robinson as

Garak

Marc Alaimo as

Vole Ducat

Natalia Nogulich as

Chipmunk Rear-Admiral Nechayev

Clyde Kusatsu as

Chipmunk Admiral Nakamura

Bobcat Goldthwaite as

Tree-Human President

We come up on a black monolith in orbit around the moon. It

turns toward us. My God, it's full of stars! It's a gateway to

another region of the universe! We pass through it in a

spectacular light show, ending up finally in some other galaxy.

A planet looms up. We skim low over the surface, which looks a

lot like the Scottish Highlands only orange, green and blue. Oh,

brother, do we ever need some eyedrops. Look out! We crash.

The next moment we step out of the hotel bathroom, breathing

loudly in our own ear. We're having dinner. We look up in

surprise at the spacesuited figure in the bathroom door and knock

a wineglass to the floor. We bend to look at it and notice

ourselves lying in the bed. With an ancient, liver-spotted hand

we lift the remote control and click to:

[Commercial: Apollo 13

Shot of the Apollo 13 spaceship drawing away from the earth.

Cut to the interior. Tom Hanks is afloat in the foreground,

checking some instruments with a clipboard in one hand. He

rotates slightly with the weightlessness just as Door Repair Guy

swims by in the background. Hanks does a doubletake, stares as

DRG's boots disappear into the lunar module, then grabs his

headphones.

"Houston, we have a problem!"]

The sickbay. The camera pans across an assortment of

medical equipment, and then up along the body of Door Repair Guy

who is laid out on an examining table with wires and tubes

sticking out of him in all directions. His nose and cheekbones

show the lingering effects of frostbite, as if he'd recently

walked to the end of Merivale Road and back. At the sound of the

doors hissing closed his eyes open and dart around the room. The

doors swish open again unexpectedly. He shuts his eyes tight and

begins to snore.

Doctor: "qalegh." ["I see you."]

She trundles a tray up beside him. On it are a variety of

roots and tubers. She holds one out.

"mInDu'raj tIpoSmoH 'ej yIyIv." ["Open your eyes and chew

this."]

He opens his eyes, sits up, takes the purple parsnip and

begins to gnaw.

"maj. Hergh je." ["Tasty. And medicinal."]

"'oH QaQtaHghach law' DaSoppu'bogh Soj QaQtaHghach puS.

HaDI'baH Sop Sor tera'ngan 'e' vISovpu'be'. ja'chuq Hoch."

["It's better than what you were eating before. I didn't know

tree-humans were carnivorous. Everyone is talking about it."]

He takes a series of rapid Bugs Bunny-like bites.

"tI je." ["We like vegetables too."]

"Ha'DIbaHmey Huj." ["Strange creatures."]

"Dajatlhchugh." ["If you say so."]

The Doctor regards him, clearly thinking that she's seen him

somewhere before, and if so, why she didn't put him out of his

misery then, when her eyes and nostrils widen in recognition.

She hurries out of the room and re-enters with a computer pad,

tapping its controls rapidly. She studies the image on the small

screen, then turns it to show him. It shows the historical

painting "Sor tera'ngan mab lulop" ["They Celebrate the Tree-

Human Treaty"], which hangs in the Musee de Beaux Arts in the

Targ capital city of Yotlh [Field], on the Targ home world Yav

[Ground]. The original is a grand-assembly-hall-sized canvas in

mixed media depicting the signing on the bridge of a Chipmunk

starship of the Targ/Tree-Human Mutual Defence and Economic Co-

operation and Extradiction Treaty. A yellow rectangle frames a

baseball-capped profile in the third row, brings the detail

forward, expanding it until it fills the screen. Door Repair

Guy.

"bIrchoH. National Geographic rur." ["Cool. National

Geographic."]

"yab. mab ghotvetlh SoH. 'oH yIghoH." ["Enough. You're

that treaty guy. Deny it."]

He sits up and stretches his legs out, tensing all the

muscles and spreading his toes as far as they'll go, to the sound

of cracking joints. Then he lets his feet dangle. He kicks them

back and forth and smiles ingenuously up at the Doctor:

"teHbej." ["To be sure."]

"'oH yImev." ["Stop it."]

"nuq. mabmey vISutlhQo'." ["What? Don't negotiate

treaties?"]

"ghobe'. qamDu'raj Dochvetlh yIHeSqa'Qo'. ["No. Don't do

that thing with your feet again."]

"jItlhIj. tIghmey pIm 'e' vIloy." ["Sorry. Cultural

difference, I guess."]

"HoDDaq qatlhap." ["I'm going to take you to the Captain."]

"'ach qatlh." ["But why?"]

She pauses by the door.

"SoHvaD veS wISuv 'e' wIHech. vaj Sut tItuQmoH" ["We're

about to fight a war over you. So get dressed."]

Camera moves in on DRG's surprised, confused and not-a-

little-pleased expression.

[Commercial: Hugh Grant in _Nine Months to a Year_]

The bridge doors hiss open and the Doctor drags Door Repair

Guy in by the arm. The bridge staff all glance at him with

suspicion and fear.

"HoDDaq vIjatlh vIneH." ["I want to talk to the Captain."]

Helmstarg: "tlheDpu'." ["She left."]

"vaj nuqDaq ghaHtaH yaS'e' wa'DIch." ["Then where is the

First Officer?"]

Helmstarg: "HoD pa'." ["Captain's quarters."]

Doctor: "jIlegh." ["I see."]

DRG: "vaj tIrI'." ["So page them."]

The whole bridge staff looks at him. He stands there

frowning until the light of understanding dawns.

"DaH 'oH vISuq." ["Now I get it."]

Helmstarg: "qatlh DaneH." ["Why do you want them?"]

"'utbe' veSvam. Sor tera'nganpu' DevwI' wIghaj." ["This

war is already won. We have the leader of the Tree-Humans."]

"ghaH DaHech'a'." ["You mean him?"]

"HIja'." ["Certainly."]

They look him up and down, snorting and flicking at flies

with their tails.

"vay' DevlaHQo'." ["He couldn't lead anyone."]

The camera sneaks a glance sideways to see what he thinks of

that. He doesn't like it. He activates his personal transporter

and disappears. The Targs look startled and only their military

training prevents them from stampeding.

Cut to Door Repair Guy stomping down a corridor.

"Couldn't lead anyone, eh? I'll fix their little red

wagon."

He comes up to the auxiliary communications monitoring

station, takes a slimjim out of his workboot, slips it into the

recess between the door and the wall and trips the spring-loaded

retraction bar mechanism. The door springs open. A crewtarg

looks up and inhales sharply.

DRG: "tIqlIj vISop vIneH." ["I came to eat your heart."]

The Targ stampedes. DRG secures the door, takes a seat at

the monitoring control, and cracks his knuckles.

"So what's on?"

He begins to play with the controls. A screen above his

head reveals the disposition of the Targ fleet, as well as a tiny

dot off to one side.

"Hm. Either that's a Chipmunk ship on the extreme edge of

sensor range, or some kind of little sensor probe or mine or

something . . ."

He enters some commands and gets an exterior view of the

object. We see the sleek black casing of a converted photon

torpedo, then a visual from the *bridge* of the photon torpedo.

Tree-Humans crowd up to the screen, pointing and chattering.

They're dressed like pirates. One of them pushes forward and

stares up at the screen. DRG gets the feeling he's seen this one

before somewhere.

Tree-Human: "Cool!"

Suddenly the Targ ship rocks. We catch a brief glimpse of

the Tree-Humans all pointing at their viewscreen, then the

exterior shot of the torpedo, then a visual of dozens of Vole

ships descending on the Targ fleet. Two Voles in body armour

materialize behind DRG. One of them clubs him on the head and

the other squeeks into a communicator. DRG and the Voles

dematerialize.

Panoramic view of the Targ and Vole fleets squaring off.

[Commercial: Hugh Grant in _The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But

Fell Down a Mountain_]

Door Repair Guy opens one eye and then the other. He is

afloat in some kind of capsule or pod. He sniffs. A pungent

fragrance fills his nostrils and starts his mouth watering. All

at once the lid of the capsule lifts away. A Vole turns toward

him and scrapes a cutting-board-load of onions into the . . .

tureen.

"Hey! You're marinating me!"

The chef peers down at him with intense interest.

"Yes. And all indications are you'll be delicious."

"Not that I'm trying to tell you your job or anything, but

isn't it customary to . . . like . . . clean me first?"

He makes a cutting motion across his throat. The chef looks

appalled.

"Tree-Human is best when served live. If you'll allow me I

must say your reputation as menaces to civilized living is well-

deserved."

"I've met you before. You're Garak!"

"I confess I don't recall the occasion."

"No, I guess you don't. Are you going to serve me to that

rat Ducat?"

"He *is* a rat, isn't he. He'll be so pleased when I call

him that."

"Why are the Targs and the Voles fighting over the Tree-

Humans?"

Garak tastes the marinate and adds a little more wine

vinegar.

"I have never ceased to be astonished by the questions put

by main courses."

"Come on. Gimme a hint. Final request."

"Tell me. What do you eat? Are you fond of acorns? I'm

counting on you having a nutty flavour."

"You're the one with the nutty flavour."

"There's no need for that."

"You're about to serve me up!"

"That's no excuse for incivility!"

Garak picks up the lid, gives DRG a final glare, and shuts

the tureen.

DRG: "I'm outta here."

He hits his transporter control.

**FZZT**

"Damn! Vinegar. I gotta dry out."

He tries his toe levitation control, which works. He lifts

out of the juice and carries the lid of the tureen up to the

ceiling where he begins to walk around and shake off his purple-

red limbs. We get an above view of Garak walking back into the

room, looking this way and that and finally up.

"Come down at once!"

DRG drops the tureen lid on him and tries the transporter

again. It works this time, but with a wine-vinegar-coloured

annular confinement beam.

[Bob:

Shot of Bob on the couch inside a cargo plane.

"Okay, back to Door Repair Guy after this, but first I've

got two tickets here for the grand opening of _Apollo 13_, the

big summer blockbuster, and so stay tuned to CHRO for details --"

Bob has lifted off the couch.

"And you can see we're here onboard the NASA KC-135 zero-g

simulator -- they flew it in for the air show! --"

The cushions have begun to drift off of the couch.

"Do you know they shot the entire Apollo 13 movie inside one

of these things?"

The couch has developed yaw, pitch and roll.

"They've got a nickname for this plane too! It's the --

er -- I mean they call it -- ah -- erf -- oh boy --"

Cameraman: "We're clear in ten seconds, Bob. Hang in there,

buddy."

Bob is hanging upside down with the microphone shaking in

his sweaty hand. The eyes swell out of his pallid face.

Cameraman: "In five, four, three --"

Bob: "It's the, the -- BRRRUUUGGGGGHHHHHGggGgggHHHGGG!!!!!"

The discharge sends him spinning down toward the far end of

the plane.

Bob (bouncing around the far end of the plane): "Back to

Door Repair Guy after this!"]

[Commercial:

Vladimir Georyevich Titov, Soviet cosmonaut, for Mir dish

detergent, official dish detergent of the Soviet space

programme.]

DRG pads down a corridor somewhere in the Vole ship. He

mutters to himself as he goes:

"Better watch myself. If those Voles are anything like the

Cardassians they've got booby traps all over the place. I'll bet

they're tracking me too. Wish I had a way to block their

sensors. Oh, wait a minute."

He looks at his keyboard implant and jabs F12.

On the bridge the Chief of Security sits back and looks at

his instrumentation in disgust.

Vole Ducat: "What is it?"

Chief of Security: "He's found a way to block our internal

sensors!"

Ducat: "Call yourself a Vole? Find him!"

DRG stops at an intersection and peers around a corner.

"They'll have the pack out too."

As if on schedule a pack of security guards charges past.

One of them stops and comes back around the corner, sniffing, but

finds nothing except a maintainence crawlway access panel.

Cut to Door Repair Guy elbow-crawling along the service

tunnel.

"This is too ironic by far."

The tunnel shakes to the sound of a distant explosion.

"Oops. Battle starting up. That should tie up the guards."

To disprove his hypothesis a flashlight beam appears behind

him. Phaser fire streaks past in the dark. He scurries round a

corner, only to come up against another search beam not twenty

feet ahead. He hits his transporter. Nothing happens. Damping

field! Realizing the only defence now is a good offence he

scrambles for the light ahead of him, but catches his toe and

does a face-plant into the floorgrill just as phaser fire streaks

past him and the familiar smell of vapourized vole fills the

tunnel. He looks behind and makes out a cloudy afterglow. He

looks ahead and sees . . . navigational lights. The tunnel

lights up as these intensify.

Afloat just ahead of him is the Tree-Human ship.

[Commercial: Hugh Borg for Zekware:

Shot of dramatically lit muscular thigh with black tubes

sticking out of it.

"This could be your thigh."

Similar shot of shoulders with implants.

"These could be your shoulders."

Bicep flexing. Below the elbow it's nothing but machinery.

"This could be your arm."

Shot of extremely muscular Borg.

"This could be your body. Phone 1-800-Zekware."]

Panoramic view of the Vole and Targ warfleets engaged in

space combat. Though the military hardware in this alternate

universe parallels that of our own quite closely, battle tactics

would appear to be based on an entirely different set of

principles. The Targs show a pronounced herd mentality, moving

in a group and covering each other's backs until one commander

gets worked up enough to charge the opposing forces, at which

point the Voles scurry in all directions and reform elsewhere.

Cut to the service conduit in the Vole warship. Door Repair

Guy is on all fours peering at the converted photon torpedo Tree-

Human pirate ship. A small hatch springs open, grazing the end

of his nose and causing him to recoil. He lands on his behind.

An action-figure-sized humunculus in pirate costume climbs out of

the hatch, wobbles and balances himself on the smooth black

surface, then, with one hand clamped to the open hatch cover,

whisks off his wide-brimmed hat and yelps:

"I am the dread pirate Don Antonio Gregorio Bermuda de

Ontario y Patagonia the Third! Yippee!"

Door Repair Guy crawls forward hurriedly, stares, then backs

away in amazement.

DRG: "I'm a Tiny Toon."

Mini-DRG: "Hey, didn't I once see you tethered to a Pink

Floyd concert?"

"You're me, all right. Where did you get that torpedo?"

"Stole it, obviously!"

"It's a Chipmunk design. Did they customize it for you?"

"Not for us! For the puppet government!"

Cut to a Tree-Human-sized office. Bobcat Goldthwaite is

seated in the presidential chair, signing bills into law.

Strings attached to his elbows and wrists angle upward past the

tops of the walls toward a wooden cross in the hand of a Chipmunk

Rear-Admiral (played by Admiral Nechayev). A Chipmunk Admiral

Nakamura enters.

Nakamura: "We've got that squash appointment at 1300 hours."

Nechayev: "Keep your shirt on a minute. He's about to sign

over the whole Beta Quadrant acorn production for a box of HB

pencils."

Back to the tunnel:

"You should keep abreast of current developments! We're

fighting in insurgency! We're up against some big customers!

Hey, you know, you've got a piece of purple parsnip in your

teeth, and it's THIS BIG." The little guy holds up his hands is

if describing the SISbat'telh Dawt that got away.

DRG digs the chunk out with the edge of his fingernail and

chews on it meditatively.

"How come the Targs and Voles are going after each other?"

"Our analysts believe it to be an displaced imperialist

reaction triggered by the sudden and uncontrolled migration of

emergent humanoid populations throughout the quadrant without

respect to traditional spheres of influence! Cool, eh?""

"You mean this is bigger than the Tree-Humans?"

"Yeah, baby! The Cling-ons are overrunning the Neutral Zone

right now! As we speak!"

"But how do they get from planet to planet?"

"Luggage, mailbags, cargo containers. A million ways!"

Cut to an exterior shot of an enormous orbiting starbase.

Two Chipmunks emerge from an airlock, put down their hand-

luggage, and greet their comrades with shouts and open arms. Cut

to a piece of hand-luggage on the floor. The material bulges and

stirs. The zipper draws open from the inside. A small bony

Cling-on head pushes out and looks around.

DRG: "Migrating? What for? Food? Better-paying jobs?"

The little pirate's face gets a far-away look.

"We are in search of freedom. Self-determination. The

basic rights to which all humanoids aspire. A tree you can call

your own. And the abolition of pest-control."

"Can't the powerful animals stop you? They're a lot

bigger."

"It's too late now. We're EVERYWHER-R-R-R-R-R-E!!"

"Wow. And I started it all. Who'd've known it'd get out of

hand like this?"

"You should not do magic you do not understand. Like it or

not, we're on the move, and we're takin' you with us."

"What? In that little thing?"

"We have some friends."

With that the little pirate jumps back into the torpedo and

secures the hatch. A white and blue bubbly transporter effect

surrounds DRG and the pirate ship. They disappear from the

service conduit. Cut to the interior of a huge space enclosed by

a long black vaulted roof above and a watery surface below. Door

Repair Guy and the torpedo materialize and DRG immediately

plunges into the water. He surfaces and begins to splash around

and spit out seawater. Pirates climb out on top of the torpedo

and start to rain insults and other stuff on his head. He treads

water and turns this way and that. A dark shape passes him in

the water, and then another.

"Yikes! Sharks!"

Two humped backs surface beside him. He hears, or rather,

feels through the water and his bones:

"You must be that Door Repair Guy. We've heard all about

you. How do you do? I'm George. This is Gracie. Say hello,

Gracie."

Gracie: "Hello, Gracie."

DRG treads on. "Wow."

View of the enormous black cylindrical Probe moving through

the midst of the battle, neutralizing Vole and Targ warships as

it goes, the nacelles and running lights blinking off ship by

ship.

[Commercial:

This Thursday, Friday and Saturday only at the Ottawa

Congress Centre, hear the author of the New York Times sixteen

week bestseller _Creative Procrastination_, Douglas A. McLeod,

explain how you too can apply the proven success strategies of

Creative Procrastination to your business, your personal finances

and lifestyle. Thousands have profited from the take-your-own-

sweet-time commando tactics of Creative Procrastination and so

can you. Seating is limited, so phone now. Or go and have a cup

of coffee. There's always time to get the cheap standing-room-

only at the back of the hall. Tickets at Ticketmaster.]

[ MEMO

From: Executive Producer

To: Other Executive Producer

Re: Episode 037, Rescue of

Gul Piller:

This one's been through rewrite five times, and you still

haven't worked out an ending? We go to principal photography the

day after tomorrow!]

[ MEMO

From: Other Executive Producer

To: Executive Producer

Re: Re: Episode 037, Rescue of

Gul Berman:

Gene Roddenberry used to rewrite *during* principal

photography.]

[ MEMO

From: Executive Producer

To: Other Executive Producer

Re: Re: Re: Episode 037, Rescue of

Gul Piller:

The bearer of this message is Gul Taylor, the new Other

Other Executive Producer. Hand all notes and drafts relating to

037 to her and get on to episode 038. Pronto.

P.S. I knew Gene Roddenberry, and believe me, Other

Executive Producer, you're no

Gul Piller angrily mashes the memo into a ball and fires it

into a nearby waste basket. He walks around his desk and reaches

down toward a drawer, but Gul Taylor's voice brings him to a

sudden halt, her words sending a chill up his arm.

Gul Taylor: "Freeze. You didn't think I'd come in here

unarmed, did you?"

She has a Cardassian phaser pointed directly at him. He

slowly straightens.

Gul Taylor: "I've had my eye on you a long time, Gul Piller.

Deep Space Nine, Voyager, Door Repair Guy, Legend. I knew that

sooner or later it would all catch up with you, would all be too

much. Too much power is a dangerous thing, don't you agree? It

only increases the possibility of a fall. Your fall has been

overdue. And now it has arrived. I will take over this series,

and with time the others too. And I have other projects in

development. Captain Sulu. Star Trek Academy. My Mother the

Car: The Next Generation. Hollywood Parrisies Squares. And

that's only the beginning. There's a whole new network out

there, and I plan to be a big part of it. I -- "

She lurches and slumps onto the couch, unconscious.

Gul Piller: "It took you long enough."

The office door inches open and Gul Berman's lovely

assistant Madeline enters, a Type 2 phaser in her hand. She

locks the door behind her, glances toward the prostrate Taylor,

then high-heels over and drapes herself across Piller's desk.

Madeline: "Law of Script Repair Number Four: Don't interrupt

while the villain's explaining the plot."

"You've learned well."

"Kiss me."

"Okay. But first get me John de Lancie."

She does that Elvis lip and reaches for the phone.

The camera glides past the blunt, pitted bow of the Humpback

Probe. We hear the deep ocean-liner engine-room thump familiar

to viewers of ST IV: The Voyage Home. Disabled targs- and voles-

of-war drift by, neutralized.

Cut to the interior. DRG is still treading water.

"I can't keep this up forever, you know!"

George: "Gracie, don't we have a life-preserver around here

somewhere?"

Gracie: "Oh, I threw that out."

George: "You threw it out?"

Gracie: "Oh, my, yes! It had a big hole in the middle!"

Door Repair Guy jabs ineffectually at his waterlogged

transporter control. Nothing. He kicks off his boots and tries

the toe antigrav. It doesn't even improve his buoyancy. He

starts to go under. On the pirate torpedo they're giving him the

count.

"Once! Twice! Three times! Hurray!!!"

DRG finds himself sinking into the dark waters. He resolves

to show more character development if he ever gets out of this

one. His arse collides with a rising metal surface.

The submarine surfaces, periscope-first. The conning tower

appears, spewing water, then DRG's head, also spewing water. A

hatch opens, and Q climbs out and leans over the railing. He's

dressed in the uniform of a submarine commander.

Q: "Do you like it? I got it from _1941_."

DRG (coughing): "Buster Keaton used it first."

"Excellent. For a species that exists only in Time you'd be

amazed how few of you bother to learn about everything that's

ever happened in it."

"Well, we had the full cable selection in our house."

The pirate ship comes up behind Q and cruises slowly around

him, the Tree-Human crew glaring. Q gives them a disapproving,

slightly disgusted look.

"Well, well, *you've* certainly taken insignificance to new

levels."

Tree-Humans: "Nyah!! Booo!!"

"Pity this entire dimension is doomed to be run by you runts

for the next seven millenia."

"Hurray!! Yahoo!!!"

DRG struggles to his feet in the kneedeep water on top of

the submerged submarine hull. He starts to lose his footing,

swings his arms wildly, goes down, flails around underwater,

resurfaces, gets to his hands and feet with his arse stuck up in

the air, walks his hands in toward his feet, rises unsteadily,

moves his arms like the two hand of a clock trying to prevent the

slow slide of his left foot, shouts "Oh!", does the splits and

goes down, struggles up again, points at Q and asks:

"You mean the future of the Tree-Humans is predetermined?"

Q (rolling his eyes): "Oh, if I had a dime for every time

I've been asked about predetermination. The answers are Yes! and

No! Comprenez-vous? I'll dumb it down for you. The part that

concerns you the most is the fact that it wouldn't have happened

without you. We in the Continuum have been noting a high degree

of turbulence in the background probability of your universe. To

put it nautically, you're leaving a wake, you chaotic little

entity. That would be bad enough, but now you've stumbled onto

interdimensionality, which means you're not only throwing monkey

wrenches into the affairs of the merely mortal, you actually have

the potential to interfere in the well laid plans of . . ."

DRG: "Whom?"

Q: "Your betters."

"Cool."

Q (cocking his head, and looking brainless): "Cool."

"Hey!"

"So the choice is this. Drown you like a puppy *now*, or

put a shadow on you and find out just how improbable the human

race can get."

"Is that a dare?"

"Only if you remember it."

He passes his hand over Door Repair Guy . . .

Who opens first one eye and then the other, notices the

daisies bobbing and swaying above his head, sits up suddenly,

looks this way and that in a panic, and zeroes in on the figure

of a woman in a homespun skirt pulling up a plant and furiously

shaking the earth off the roots.

"Ex-girlfriend!"

Her head snaps in his direction.

"Ex-boyfriend!"

She tightens her grip around the plant, hurries toward him

through the waist-deep herbs, and begins to pummel him with the

root end.

Next time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

"Cool!"

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

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

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

Notes on Small Wonder:

Return to the Chipmunk Universe.

Creative Procrastination. Putting things off is hard work. Choose a thing that you don't want to do, and do everything else first. By the time you've done all that the first thing won't look so bad. So do it. Then go for a beer.

Clearly I was worried that Mini-DRG would be taken as a sign that the series had jumped the shark. Fortunately there's more Shakespeare in the next installment.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 36

Deus Ex Machina

Space. The Defiant shoots past, rolling to avoid a stream

of phaser fire emanating from one of two pursuing Jem'Hadar

vessels. Cut to the bridge.

Dax at helm: "That was close. I'm running out of evasive

tactics. I'm open to suggestions."

Odo: "Just think of Doctor Bashir. That should refresh your

memory."

Sisko: "Odo."

Admiral Nechayev: "Prepare to execute the Nechayev

Manoeuvre. You'll find it preprogrammed into the navigational

computer. On my mark." She leans toward Sisko. "You can be

sure they've never seen this one before."

Odo: "Do you intend to alienate them all via official

subspace channel?"

Sisko: "Odo, please."

Nechayev turns back toward the viewscreen, a small, dark

plume of smoke rising from the crown of her head.

"Helm. Initiate."

The Defiant decelerates suddenly, flips 180 degrees, heads

directly toward the lead pursuer, allowing the Jem'Hadar weapons

the briefest time possible to lock on, veers away at the last

instant, and, just in the moment when the two Jem'Hadar and the

Defiant describe a straight line, accelerates to warp nine,

causing the two Jem'Hadar to fire on one another, disabling them

both.

Nechayev: "You were saying?"

Sisko (coming around between the viewscreen and the helm

console): "Well done, Admiral. Dax, perhaps you'd better scan

for Gowron's ship."

Dax: "I have a fix on it."

Nechayev: "Intercept, top speed."

Dax: "ETA fourteen minutes."

Nechayev: "I'll be in my quarters." She leaves.

Dax (leaning forward and whispering): "Captain Sulu used

that move more than eighty years ago."

Sisko: "All the best ones come out of his logs. As they

say, 'Good commanders borrow, admirals rename.'"

Odo: "Or as Quark might put it, 'Time heals all copyright

restrictions.'"

Sisko (the muscles in his forehead bunching visibly): "Which

side of the bucket did you wake up in this morning, anyway?"

View of the Defiant shooting off on its new heading.

The hold of the Klingon K'Vort-class Bird of Prey. The

rectangular shape of the percheron-powered interdimensional

gateway gives off a ghostly pale glow in the dark, empty space.

(It's really Stage 18 at Paramount.) A hand reaches out of the

gateway, followed quickly by the rest of a Klingon -- Duras! His

sister Marguerite follows closely.

Duras stands there admiring his limbs and torso, amazed at

this resurrection.

"porgh vIghaj. 'ach Sub'a'." ["I have a body. But is it

solid?"]

Marguerite delivers a right cross, knocking his head

sideways. He smiles, further splitting the lip.

"majQa'."

Marguerite: "Dujvam wIghaj. nuH chuqDaq ghaHtaH Gowron'e'.

pIHbe'. wIQawlaH." ["We have this ship. Gowron is within

weapons range. He suspects nothing. We can destroy him."]

Duras: "yIghoS." ["Proceed!"]

They exit. For a moment the stage is empty. Then a swirl

of light appears on the deck. It grows, sending out beams, as if

a crack is opening in the floor, and suddenly the figure of the

Door Fek'lhr shoots upward with a howl. The Fek'lhr opens and

closes its clawed hands, rolling its head and snapping its

slathering jaws.

"lughHa' vay'. lojmItvam. mubHa' 'oH. bortaSwIj vIneH."

["Something is wrong. This door! It is illegal! I will have my

revenge!"]

The Door Fek'lhr grabs the doorframe and plunges into the

rectangle of light. The camera swings around the doorframe as

the Fek'lhr goes through and in a skilful wipe we see the

creature step out into the Dark Forest in the same motion. The

Fek'lhr looks around, tasting the air.

"lojmIt tI'wI' 'Iw vIlargh." ["I smell the blood of a door

repairman."]

The Door Fek'lhr moves off into the forest.

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Avery Brooks as

Commander Benjamin Sisko

Rene Auberjonois as

Odo

Terry Farrell as

Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira

Colm Meaney as

O'Brien

Armin Shimerman as

Quark

Cirroc Lofton as

Jake Sisko

Robert O'Reilly as

Gowron

Sara Gilbert as

Marguerite Duras

Kevin Conway as

Emperor Kahless

Robert Herron as

Kahless the Unforgettable

Natalia Nogulich as

Admiral Nechayev

Salome Jens as

the Founder

Dennis Christopher as

Borath

We crash. What? We passed right through that planet! It

must be some kind of holographic projection! Talk about luck!

Eh? What do you mean the stars are coming up fast? I never

heard of anything so ridiculous! Do you think we somehow got

inside of some kind of enormous Dyson sphere planetarium or

something and are about to impact on the curved interior surface?

Do you seriously expect me to believe--

Wham.

[Commercial: Batman Forever/McDonald's]

The gleaming surface of the Great Link swells and rises into

the form of the spokeswoman of the Founders. She fixes her gaze

on the newly arrived Borath.

"They gave you the shake, didn't they?"

"Si, donna. Our ships were needed to subdue the Klingon

vessel. When there were too few remaining the Defiant fled."

"Where is it now?"

"It goes to join the vessels at the gateway."

"This has been a valuable learning experience. Next time we

shall not underestimate the Klingons. We also have a better idea

of the state of Federation's interdimensionality. And we know

that Odo is amenable to further contact. It is time to bring the

action to a close. Shortly you will have enough ships to make

them all cut and run for the Alpha Quadrant. Oh, here. Deliver

that, would you?"

Borath takes the postcard and the spokeswoman melts back

into the Great Link. He reads and sighs.

SORRY WE MISSED YOU, ODO. SEE YOU NEXT TIME. LOVE, THE

FOUNDERS.

He twists the card in his hands and sings:

Quanto e bella, quanto e cara!

Piu la vedo e piu mi piace,

ma in quel cor non son capace

lieve affetto ad inspiar.

The two Kahlesses walk together through the fields of Sto-

Vo-Kor.

Kahless the Unforgettable: "ghaH DaHoHbe' 'ej woQDaj

DaboSbe'. qatlh." ["Why do you not simply kill him and take

power for yourself?"]

Emperor Kahless: "bov Huj. wo' vIbuSnIS. ngoch luSIgh

novpu'. chaH vIyajbe'. ["Strange times. I must think of the

Empire. Aliens influence policy. I don't understand them."]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "teH 'oH. novpu' Da tlhInganpu'

Qup. SeyqSpIyr. nuq." ["It is true. Young Klingons imitate

foreign ways. Shakespeare. What's that all about?"]

The Emperor prudently develops temporary deafness, choosing

instead to embroider his last point:

"motlhbe'. tera'nganpu'. romuluSnganpu'." ["They are

unusual. Humans. Romulans."]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "qaqeS. He yIleH. chut yIHub.

ghawron yIngaq. lujchugh ghaH vaj ghaH yItam. voDleHvo' ghoS

woQDaj 'e' yIghojmoH. qorDu' yIchenmoH." ["I'll tell you what.

Stay the course. Maintien le droit. Support Gowron. If he

fails, replace him. Make him understand that his power comes

from the Emperor. Have heirs."]

Emperor Kahless: "voDleH qorDu'. qeSlIj QaQ. vIlob." ["A

royal family. Your advice is good. I will obey it."]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "yIlegh." ["Look."]

They turn and look across the valley. In the distance

there's a disturbance of some kind. Something is moving rapidly

through the crowd, throwing Klingons into the air as it

approaches. They stand and watch as the phenomenon veers this

way and that and finally heads straight in their direction. The

Door Fek'lhr charges up to them.

Fek'lhr: "qatu'. Seng. Dud 'u'mey. chegh SuvwI'pu'. mIS

Hoch." ["There you are. Trouble. Universes overlap. Warriors

return. Everything is confused."]

Emperor Kahless: "DuraS. ghaH cheghta' be'nI'Daj.

mulo'ta'." ["Duras! His sister has brought him back! She has

used me!"]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "bIngoy'." ["You are

responsible."]

Emperor Kahless: "vItI'." ["I'll fix it/him/her."]

He heads off into the crowd.

Kahless the Unforgettable: "cheghta'DI' DuraS vaj lojmIt

yIQaw'." ["When Duras has returned, destroy the gateway."]

Fek'lhr: "chaq. DaH lojmIt tI'wI' ghotvetlh vItu'nIS."

["Maybe. Right now I have to find that Door Repair Guy."]

The creature heads off.

Kahless the Unforgettable: "'ej DaH jIvangnIS." ["And right

now I have something to do."]

He starts off through the crowd.

[Commercial: Congo/Taco Bell]

Door Repair Guy and a crowd of fans move through the great

tournament that is Sto-Vo-Kor.

"SeyqSpIyr," asks one wide-eyed Klingon, "QIStover marlo'

DaHegh'a'. vaj qatlh." ["Shakespeare, did you kill Christopher

Marlowe? If so, why?"]

DRG: "'oH poQ ghaH." ["He asked for it."]

Fan: "mInDaq DaDuQ'a'." ["You stabbed him in the eye?"]

DRG: "qabwIj berghmoH ghaH." ["He was in my face."]

Second fan: "qablIj berghmoH SoH. Ha ha ha ha ha." ["You

got in his face! Ha ha ha ha ha!!"]

Third fan: "pelegh." ["Look."]

A tornado-phenomenon veers this way and that across the

plain, throwing dust and Klingons skyward as it goes. It swings

downwind of the observers, hovers, and then heads straight for

them. The Door Fek'lhr comes to a sudden screeching halt and

covers them all with dust and spit as it gestures at Door Repair

Guy and exclaims:

Door Fek'lhr: "jIpum." ["J'accuse!"]

DRG: "va. Seng." ["Oh, oh. Trouble."]

First fan: "qatlh SeyqSpIyr pum veqlargh." ["Why does the

Fek'lhr accuse Shakespeare?"]

Door Fek'lhr: "nepwI' ghaH. pongvetlh ghajbe' ghaH. ["He

is a liar! He does not own that name!"]

Second fan: "vranSiS bey'qon SoH'a'." ["You are Francis

Bacon?"]

Door Fek'hlr: "lojmIt tI'wI' ghot 'oH pongDaj'e'. chamwI'

ghaH. ghaH naDHa'ta' lojmItHuSwI'pu'. ghe''orDaq vInge'."

["His name is Door Repair Guy. A technician. The doorhangers

have discommended him. I will take him to the dwelling place of

the dishonoured."]

The Klingons take a collective backward step at this news.

Third fan: "petaQ." ["Scurvy knave."]

DRG: "Samej." ["I leave you."] [_All's Well That End's

Well_, Act II, scene iii, lines 263-64.] (Scrams.)

First fan: "SeyqSpIyrDaj Sov ghaH." ["He knows his

Shakespeare."]

Second fan: "SeyqSpIyrchaj luSov tera'nganpu' law'." ["Many

Humans know their Shakespeare."]

Third fan: "'ach chaH DISuvrup maH." ["But we are prepared

to fight them."]

First fan: "vaj ghaH wISuvrup maH." ["Then we are prepared

to fight him."]

Second fan: "jIQochbe'." ["I agree."]

Third: "Ha'." ["Come on."]

They chase after Door Repair Guy, leaving the Door Fek'lhr

shaking its head in disbelief.

"HeHchaj luchIlchu' ghotpu'vetlh." ["Those guys are

definitely losing their edge."]

[Commercial: Levi's/Braveheart]

A corridor in the Durases' K'Vort-class Bird of Prey. A

Klingon technician clanks along the grillwork walkway and

activates the pressure door to the next section. The door hisses

open to reveal Marguerite and Duras. Duras steps forward,

pushing the astonished crewman aside as he goes. The two

siblings pass by, activate the door at the far end of the

corridor and step through, pausing momentarily to look back and

smirk at the amazement of the Klingon. The door closes. The

technician puts his hand to his chin and thinks about what he's

just witnessed. The door beside him hisses open and the Emperor

Kahless comes through.

Emperor Kahless: "DuraS Dalegh'a'." ["Did you see Duras?"]

Crewman (dazed): "HISlaH." [(In formal Klingon) "Yes".]

Emperor Kahless: "nuq bIQub'a'." ["What do you think?"]

Crewman (pause): "lughHa' 'oH." ["It is wrong."]

Emperor Kahless: "'ach DuraSpu' Dangaq." ["But you support

the Durases."]

The Klingon looks long into the Emperor's face.

"lughHa' 'oH." ["It is wrong."]

The Emperor nods, a slow smile of satisfaction spreading

across his countenance. He shifts his gaze toward the bridge.

A clearing in the Dark Forest. At first all is quiet. Then

Door Repair Guy dashes into the middle of the shot, comes to a

sudden stop, tumbles head over heels with the momentum, looks

behind him to see if he's being followed, sees that he is, winds

up and dashes out of the shot below the elevated camera with a

look of sheer fright on his face. A Klingon dashes into the shot

from the same direction DRG came, stops in the same place,

crouches and peers in the direction DRG has gone, sees him,

points and makes a "Come on, come on" gesture back in the

direction he came, and then another Klingon, then another two,

then another fifteen, then another hundred and twelve, dash into

the glade filling it with running Klingons. They crowd out of

the shot after DRG, gradually emptying the set. Then one little

Klingon dashes into the clearing, looks in all directions, and

dashes out again in the same direction as everybody else.

[Commercial: Crimson Tide/Tide]

[Bob:

Shot of Bob on the tarmac at the Uplands airbase in front of

the Purolator jet.

"Okay! We're at the National Capital Airshow here at

Canadian Forces Base Uplands and I'm in front of the Purolator

jet -- it's an entire passenger jet made over for cargo! -- they

took all the seats out! -- there they are at the end of the

runway! and" -- (keeps talking but is drowned out by a USAF

Starlifter taking off in the background) -- "and all the great

people from the National Capital Freenet who volunteered to sell

tickets and make hotdogs and whoa a million other things" --

(drowned out by USAF Galaxy lifting off) -- "and we have a clip

of that, so roll that clip."

Shot of stuntman climbing off the top of a blue and yellow

biplane onto the landing gear of a helicopter flying in close

formation.

Voiceover: (loud prolonged yodel of fear).

"Back to Door --" (drowned out by B2 bomber taking off).]

[Commercial: Bridges of Madison County/Polident]

View of the Duras ship nose-to-nose with Gowron's Vor'cha

attack cruiser. Cut to the Vor'cha's bridge. Gowron strides in,

adjusts his belt, and takes the command chair.

"yIja'." ["Report."]

"DuraSpu' tojtaH tamaj." ["Our recording continues to fool

the Durases."]

Exterior view of Duras ship unleashing a photon torpedo. It

traverses the short distance between the two ships and detonates

against the Vor'cha's shields.

The bridge rocks. Gowron and his officers are all thrown

from their seats. Gowron, pulling himself up by the arm of the

command chair:

"qul chegh." ["Return fire!"]

View of the Vor'cha and K'Vort unleashing their stocks of

photons torpedoes at each other's shields.

Bridge of the K'Vort. Duras is in the command chair,

rocking back and forth with each blast, and grinning.

"qo' Dun." ["It's a wonderful world."]

The door hisses open and Kahless enters.

Kahless: "targhwIj mach vInej." ["I'm looking for my little

targ."]

Duras, turning in his chair: "nuq." ["What?"]

Kahless: "DaH ghaH vItu'ta'." ["Now I've found him."]

Duras: "voDleH vIpoQbe'." ["I don't need an Emperor."]

Kahless: "'e' DaQub'a'." ["Do you think so?"]

Duras: "petaQ. tlhon." ["Scurvy knave. Clone."]

Marguerite (nervously): "loDnI'." ["Brother."]

Duras: "toywI'. ghargh." ["Servant. Worm."]

Marguerite: "DuraS." ["Duras. . ."]

Duras flares his nostril and points toward it

disrespectfully.

Kahless: "yIyep. DaqaD 'e' Dayajbe'." ["Be careful. You

don't realize who you're dealing with."]

Kahless picks up Duras, throws him over his shoulder, and

heads out the door. Marguerite makes a quick gesture to the

bridge crew to stay at their stations.

She hisses: "peSuvtaH." ["Keep fighting!"]

The camera swings around the two battling vessels.

Cut to the Dark Forest. DRG comes dashing up to the

interdimensional gateway. The Door Fek'lhr steps in front of the

glowing rectangle, blocking his way. DRG, seeing this just in

time, dashes back into the forest, followed by the Fek'lhr.

In the corridor leading to the hold Kahless with the

struggling Duras over his shoulder passes the Emperor Kahless,

who has just completed his conversation with the ethical

technician.

Emperor Kahless: "yayvetlh vIneHpu'." ["I wanted to do

that."]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "yayraj 'oH." ["You did it."]

He hits a door control and disappears with Duras through the

opening doorway on his way to the hold.

The Emperor Kahless enters the rocking bridge. Marguerite

and the others don't say a word, sensing the truth of what has

just transpired but not wanting to cross such a well-connected

fellow. Kahless advances toward Marguerite. They come face to

face.

Emperor Kahless: "chonay'a'." ["Will you marry me?"]

Marguerite: "chaq." ["I might."]

Emperor Kahless: "'oH yIbuS." ["Think about it."]

He points to the transporter chief.

"SoH. ghawron DujDaq HIjol." ["You! Transport me to

Gowron's ship."]

"yoDmeychaj." ["Their shields!"]

"tIQotlh." ["Disable them!"]

The transporter chief looks to the gunner, who looks to his

diminishing arsenal and increases the rate of fire.

Shot of all this ordnance erupting from the K'vort and

battering the Vor'cha's shields.

On the bridge of the approaching Defiant Dax is reading her

tactical display.

"Admiral, Gowron's ship is in combat with a second Klingon

vessel. It's the ship that kidnapped our missing door repair

man. They're giving each other everything they've got."

Nechayev: "Hailing frequencies. Klingon vessels! Cease

fire at once and set course for the wormhole. You are in a

Jem'Hadar trap."

"No response."

"Put a shot across their bows."

"Torpedo away."

Shot of the two Klingon vessels pounding each other with

photon torpedoes and beams of phaser fire. The Federation

torpedo sails through the fire fight and dwindles away unnoticed.

Odo: "They seem to be preoccupied."

Nechayev: "I'm not used to being treated like this. Helm,

put us between the two ships."

Sisko jumps forward and thinks fast.

"Admiral, that's a gutsy move. But are you sure we can

afford to deprive the Federation of our valuable intelligence?"

"Can we afford the destabilisation of the Klingon Empire?

Gowron has to listen, and I'm going to make him!"

She steps forward and punches in the requisite commands.

The Defiant shoots forward toward the gap.

On the K'Vort, the gunner exclaims, "QaD pu'DaH. ratlh wa'

peng. pum yoDmey. 'ej pum Vor'cha yoDmey. jIbaH'a'." ["Phaser

banks are dry! One torpedo remains! Shields are falling!

Vor'cha's shields are also falling. Should I fire?"]

Marguerite: "ghobe'." ["No."]

Kahless smiles and points to the transporter chief.

On the Vor'cha, the gunner turns and shouts, a little

nervously: "joHwI'. luj pu'DaH. ratlh pagh cha. pum yoDmey."

["My lord! Phaser banks failing! No torpedoes remain! There go

the shields!"]

Gowron rises from his chair, about to speak. The Emperor

Kahless materializes in front of him and decks him with a right

uppercut.

Emperor: "qa'Su'meywIj tISopQo'." ["Don't eat my cashews."]

The Emperor turns to the bridge crew, his foot on Gowron.

"Dotlh." ["Status."]

"pagh nuH. pagh yoDmey. naDev ghoS DIvI' Duj." ["No

weapons! No shields! Federation vessel approaching!"]

Emperor: "DIvI''a'." ["Federation, eh?"]

Cut to the glade in the Dark Forest. Kahless the

Unforgettable emerges from the gateway with Duras still over his

shoulder. He sees the Door Fek'lhr.

Kahless the Unforgettable: "ghotvam yInge'." ["Take this

guy."]

Door Fek'lhr: "lojmIt tIwI' vIneH." ["I want the door

repairman!"]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "Grrrrrr."

Door Fek'lhr: "bIqabchugh." ["If you insist."]

The Fek'lhr takes Duras and disappears into the underworld.

Duras: "A-a-a-a-r-g-g-g-g-h-h-h-h!!!!!!"

DRG sees his opportunity, dashes out of the woods for the

gateway, and flies through. Several hundred Klingons come

dashing up, but Kahless takes a position in front of the gateway

and holds up his hands for silence.

Kahless the Unforgettable: "jupoymeywI'. Sto-Vo-KorDaq

tlhIH lIqemta' batlh. tera'ngan bowoD tlhIH 'e' raD batlh.

pItlh. Sto-Vo-Kor bomej tItlh boneH'a'." ["My dear friends.

Honour has brought you to Sto-Vo-Kor. Honour compels you to

expel the human. This you have done. Do you wish to leave Sto-

Vo-Kor?"]

Klank: "Qo'. naDev wIparHa'." ["No! We like it here!"]

Noises of agreement.

Kahless: "majQa'."

The next moment the glowing rectangle behind him blinks out

of existence.

We jump back a moment in time as DRG leaps through the

gateway into the hold of the K'Vort, rolls once or twice, then

gets up, dusts off his knees, realizes after a tense moment or

two that no one is following him, then notices that he's hungry,

goes over to the replicator and orders heart of targ with a side

order of fries, brings the dish back over to the gateway and

stands there in amazement as he begins to eat.

"Man!"

Shot of the Defiant taking position between the two Klingon

vessels. Cut to the Defiant's bridge.

Nechayev: "You see, Commander, they respect the Federation

alliance too much to fire on us. Get me Gowron."

The viewscreen reveals an unusually bleary Gowron. The

leader of the ruling council weaves and sways.

Admiral Nechayev: "Gowron. Surely you must see the

importance of a strong, unified Klingon Empire. This cannot be

expected if the Jem'Hadar manage to overwhelm your ship without

even the story of your honourable defeat surviving."

Gowron (though the movements of his mouth do not seem to

match his words): *Yes, I see your point. Time to turn for

home.*

Nechayev: "A refreshing perspective. I'll see you on the

other side of the wormhole."

Cut to the bridge of the K'Vort. Marguerite swings toward

the camera in the command chair.

"lojmIt yIwoD. gharghjuHDaq. Do naQ." ["Jettison gateway.

Full warp speed to wormhole."]

View of DRG and the interdimensional gateway dematerializing

in a Klingon transporter effect. Cut to open space. DRG and the

gateway rematerialize off the starboard bow of the K'Vort-class

Bird of Prey. The vessel draws away from the Vor'cha attack

cruiser and the Defiant, applies thrusters, and elasticizes into

warp.

The Emperor drops Gowron and clomps off through the bridge

door.

Gowron sways to his feet, blinks, puts two and two together

and exclaims: "yItlha'. Do naQ." ["Pursue! Full warp speed!"]

The Vor'cha turns, elasticizes, and warps off in pursuit.

Cut to Defiant. Dax glances quickly from point to point on

her console. "Admiral. Forty-seven Jem'Hadar vessels

decloaking."

Nechayev: "Wormhole. Full warp speed."

Odo: "What about our missing crewman?"

Sisko: "He'll just have to make do where he is."

Odo: "He's up on half a dozen noise by-law violations.

Surely you don't intend to let him get away?"

Nechayev (staring): "Have you been paying attention at all?"

Dax: "Engaging."

Defiant turns and warps off, leaving the glowing rectangle

of the percheron-powered interdimensional gateway afloat in

space. The camera closes in on DRG who now finds himself afloat

in the vacuum of space just four feet away from the slowly

rotating gateway. His ears pop. He lets go of the plate of

heart of targ and fries and the dish wobbles toward the bright

rectangle and disappears through it. He turns his mind back to

his emergency vacuum conditions training course and gradually

realizes that he was too busy customizing his Heroes of Bolian

Heavy Metal holodeck programme at the time. (Not enough Swedes.)

He perceives that he should have released the heart of targ in

the opposite direction because he is now drifting away from the

gateway which itself is slowly turning over and over with the

naturally occurring percheron power source sliding from corner to

corner threatening to separate entirely from its doorframe and

render the gateway inoperable. Just as the anomaly begins to

form a globe in the upper-left-hand corner of the doorframe and

quiver like a drop of water on the end of a leaf DRG remembers,

long after you did, that he has a pre-Zekware model personal

transporter device installed in his left forearm. He focuses his

attention on the gateway, now difficult to see through his

crystallizing eyeballs, activates the control, and disappears in

a Borg transporter effect just as the anomaly slips out of the

doorframe and the gateway goes dead. The next instant a

Jem'Hadar warship swoops past and blows the doorframe to

smithereens.

[Commercial: Johnny Mnemonic/UPS] (That one works on two levels.)

The wormhole opens and the Duras K'Vort-class Bird of Prey

emerges -- right into the middle of a Federation armada. The

Klingon vessel cruises forward, piloting its way among the

Nebula-class Sutherland, the New Orleans-class Rutledge, the

antique Soyuz-class Bozeman, the Ambassador-class Gandhi, the

venerable Hood, the intelligent-eyed Argo, the redoutable Ox, the

swift Antelope, the active Bee, the fun-loving Rio de Janiero,

and the serious-minded Jones, among others.

The bridge of the Gandhi. Admiral Nakamura is there.

Nakamura: "Klingon vessel. Do you carry any news of the USS

Defiant? We urgently require a conference concerning any

Jem'Hadar activities you may have witnessed in the Gamma

Quadrant."

The Klingon vessel maintains radio silence but moves in

behind the Gandhi as if seeking protection. The next moment

Gowron's Vor'cha-class attack cruiser appears out of the

wormhole. Admiral Nakamura is about to open his mouth again when

the tactical officer behind him shouts:

"Bird of Prey firing!"

The camera sweeps along the side of the Gandhi toward the

Bird of Prey lurking between its nacelles. A red photon torpedo

erupts from the K'Vort's forward torpedo tube, pursues a

twinkling course along the engineering hull of the Starfleet

ship, crosses the space toward the oncoming Vor'cha, and takes a

big chunk out of its secondary hull, to the surprise of all.

Bridge of the Duras ship.

Marguerite pumps her fist.

"pItlh." ["He shoots, he scores!"]

She turns, points to the helmsman, jerks her thumb over her

shoulder, and settles down into her command chair. The Bird of

Prey tumbles over and, using the bulk of the Federation ship for

cover, warps off for parts unknown.

The viewscreen on the Gandhi is covered with static, which

gradually clears to reveal the wide-open-eyed visage of an

incensed Gowron.

Gowron: *What is the meaning of this outrage?*

Nakamura: "Ah . . ."

The wormhole opens again and disgorges the USS Defiant.

*Admiral Nechayev to Admiral Nakamura. We are being pursued

by forty-seven Jem'Hadar vessels. Ready weapons.*

The ships of the fleet move into battle formation, train

their weapons on the wormhole's coordinates and wait.

Eighteen hours later they stand down.

The corridor outside Door Repair Guy's quarters. Dax and

Odo stand by as an agent from Starfleet Security applies yellow

police tape to the door. Perceptive viewers will recognize the

Bad Cop from DRG's vision in episode 025.

Dax: "Where do you think he is now?"

Odo: "Out of jurisdiction, perhaps, but not out of mind.

I've just received a communication from Starfleet Security about

certain . . . coincidences associated with his movements. I'd

say, from his point of view, it's better he's not around."

Dax (because the writers haven't given her a line to get out

of the scene with): (raises eyebrow).

A livid Quark is deposited at Station Ops via turbolift.

"I haven't been on camera for three episodes!"

Kira: "Oh, pipe down. You'd think you were Cirroc Lofton."

The turbolift deposits Jake Sisko.

Kira: "Oh. Sorry, kid. But think for a moment of the

sacrifices of those brave Klingons who gave their lives to

protect the Alpha Quadrant. I'd say the problems of a few out-

of-work actors pale in comparison."

No sooner are the words out of her mouth than the wormhole

opens and disgorges an impossibly damaged K't'inga cruiser towing

an even more completely demolished Jem'Hadar ship.

O'Brien: "Jaysis Murphy. It's the wreck of the Hesperus."

Kira: "This is DS9 hailing Klingon vessel. Do you require

assistance?"

The image of the K't'inga-class battle cruiser's assistant

cook comes on the viewscreen. You can actually see open space

through the blast holes in the bridge behind her.

Assistant cook: *yIDoH. vIghaj.* [*Back off. This one's

mine.*]

View of the K't'inga and its prize crawling past DS9 toward

the Klingon Empire.

The sickbay in what appears to be a Klingon vessel. Door

Repair Guy opens first one eye and then the other. His vision is

still pretty cloudy. A figure advances toward him and thrusts

the plate of targ and fries at him.

"nuq Hech'a'." ["What is the meaning of this?"]

DRG looks up, way up, the commanding figure in Klingon

armour, noting with a slight stab of panic as he passes out the

curving tusks on the targ-like snout.

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

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

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

--

The opinions expressed above are not necessarily those of Krell and

Brothers, Doorhangers, or of the Klingon Guild of Doorhangers.

}}:-) Douglas A.McLeod ai919@freenet.carleton.ca )-:{{

Notes on Deus Ex Machina:

Whoa. Boy.

Pictured at the top is the chase scene from Buster Keaton's Seven Chances.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 35

The Nostril

Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

"Klingons! Klingons!"

"DaSpu'nachDu'!" ["Bootspike-heads!"]

"SuH. DISuv." ["Let's fight them!"]

Borath appears. He holds up a letter.

"I carry a reply to Odo's message."

A hand reaches out of the gateway, grabs the front of DRG's

overalls, and yanks him in.

And now this week's exciting instalment:

The camera moves in on a space battle. We see an agile,

water-beetle-shaped Jem'Hadar warship literally running circles

around an ancient heavily-damaged Klingon K't'inga-class battle

cruiser. Beams of phaser fire criss-cross between the two

vessels. The Klingon's hull is scorched black in countless

places. Blossoms of fire burst forth across the Klingon's

engineering section as the Jem'Hadar ship makes a strafing run.

The Jem'Hadar swings past the far side of the Klingon cruiser,

releases a volley of photon torpedoes, obscures our view for an

instant as it comes around the near side, and as it flies out of

the shot we see the torpedoes impact on the K't'inga's forward

command section, blowing out one whole side of it and sending the

Klingon ship spinning. No sooner has the scattering debris

twisted past than the camera begins to draw us away, the sounds

of war (metaphorically) diminishing, and we take one more

backward look at the Klingons fighting gamely on before we are

hurried and sped past streaking stars to a second point in space

several light-years ahead, where two Klingon vessels, a K'Vort-

class Bird of Prey and a state-of-the-art Vor'cha attack cruiser

lie nose-to-nose. A discrete eavesdrop of their communications

channels reveals the nature of the stalemate: a Klingon staring

contest between Gowron on the Vor'cha and, on the K'Vort, the

youngest sister of Lursa and B'Etor, Marguerite Duras. We draw

away again and speed back the way we came, at last coming to a

multitude of Jem'Hadar vessels holding station around the USS

Defiant. We close in on the Federation ship lying calmly in

space with its navigational lights blinking, check our oxygen,

and prepare for the editorial cut to the bridge.

Admiral Nechayev is walking in a very close circle around a

rather uncomfortable Odo, pinning him with her gaze, as Commander

Benjamin Sisko paces the other direction in a wider circle with

his arms crossed and his finger over his mouth, observing them

both. The Admiral speaks:

"Have you been in contact with the Founders long?"

"We have had some . . . dealings."

"Of what nature?"

"Of a personal nature."

"Please explain."

"I believe I said that they were *personal*."

"Constable, I wonder if you are aware of how tenuous your

position at Deep Space Nine really is?"

Sisko: "Odo. The Admiral is concerned about possible

security breaches. Surely you can put her mind to rest on that

count."

"We-l-l-l-l. It's against my better instincts, but . . .

postcards."

"Postcards?"

"We send each other postcards."

"Why?"

"Because we're family."

"Show me one."

He pulls one out. She takes it and looks at it, picture-

side first, then message side, then over and over again, looking

for a secret message.

Close-up of the postcard in her hands. On one side is a

picture of the Great Link at night. On the other is the message

"Wish you were here" in large loopy handwriting.

Sisko: "That's an interesting stamp."

Odo: "Grrr. Stamp collectors."

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Avery Brooks as

Commander Benjamin Sisko

Rene Auberjonois as

Odo

Terry Farrell as

Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira

Robert O'Reilly as

Gowron

Sara Gilbert as

Marguerite Duras

Kevin Conway as

Emperor Kahless

Robert Herron as

Kahless the Unforgettable

Natalia Nogulich as

Admiral Nechayev

Harvey Kietel as

Klank

Dennis Christopher as

Borath

Okay, we're about to crash. Lemme think a minute. Why do

things crash? Because they weigh something. So . . . what if we

had no weight? We couldn't crash! The ship's equipped with an

interior artificial gravity net. So all we have to do is tie it

into the warp core and crank it down to zero. Below zero. As

far below zero as we can. Here goes!

We crash.

[Commercial: Patrick Stewart:

"When the engineers at Porsche's shuttlecraft design centre

showed Starfleet Command the specifications for a radically new

dilithium-efficient warp-eight runabout, they had only one

concern: how long would it last in the hands of Benjamin Sisko?"

Rapidly cut shots of a runabout streaking past under Romulan

fire, jolting and dodging around weird spatial anomalies, glowing

red-hot as it streaks low through a planetary atmosphere,

flipping and twirling around Jem'Hadar fire, and at last emerging

from the Bajoran wormhole.

A round Cardassian airlock door rolls open and Sisko

emerges. He does that smile/snort/shrug thing and walks off.]

A glowing rectangle stands in a glade somewhere deep within

a murky forest. Marguerite Duras steps through it, assumes a

fighting posture, glares this way and that, and snarls. The next

moment the Emperor Kahless emerges. He looks around, puts a hand

on her shoulder and whispers, "ngem Hurgh." ["The Dark Forest."]

They wait a moment, then Marguerite paces back to the gateway,

reaches through, and yanks Door Repair Guy in with her.

DRG: "SAtlhej 'e' boneH'a'." ["Oh, you wanted me to come

along?"]

Marguerite: "petaQ."

DRG: "nuqDaq mapawpu'a'." ["Where did we wind up?"]

Kahless: "Sto-Vo-KorDaq He." ["The Road to Sto-Vo-Kor."]

DRG: "bIng KoSbIy. bob Hop. wa'SaD Hut'vatlh loSmaH

chorgh'a'." ["Bing Crosby. Bob Hope. 1948?"]

Marguerite: "bIlughHa'. DaH qaHoH'a'." ["Wrong. Should I

kill you now?"]

Kahless: "chaq ghaH wIlo'." ["Perhaps we'll need him.']

DRG: "chaq tulo' tlhIH." ["Perhaps you'll need me."]

Marguerite: "Grrrrrrr."

Kahless (assuming a hunting posture and starting off):

"yIghoS." ["Come on."]

They disappear among the twisted trunks.

The shattered bridge of the embattled K't'inga cruiser.

Klingons stagger around, dragging fallen girders out of the way

or fighting burning consoles. In the midst of this appear

several dozen Jem'Hadar who immediately set on the Klingons in

hand-to-hand combat.

Cut to the galley. A Jem'Hadar appears and vapourizes the

cook. The assistant cook pulls a two-handed carving knife out of

its sheath and impales the intruder, who falls with an angry

shout. She snatches up the Jem'Hadar's weapon and looks for the

next opponent. All around her Jem'Hadar and Klingon kitchen

staff are locked in a life-and-death struggle. We see a Klingon

drive a shrimp fork into a Jem'Hadar forehead. The assistant

cook pauses to examine the body at her feet, takes hold of a

device strapped to the bicep, and disappears in a transporter

effect along with the body. The camera sweeps across the floor

to another Klingon who has seen this while pounding his enemy's

head into the deckplate. The Klingon grins, grasps the

unconscious Jem'Hadar's transporter control and similarly

disappears.

The bridge of the Defiant.

Nechayev: "Tell me, Constable, just what was the content of

the message you sent the Founders?"

Odo: "I told them that I was among friends and that if they

wanted my cooperation they should treat you as such."

"What sort of cooperation did you have in mind?"

"Admiral, you have spent enough time drawing up peace

treaties to recognize that the ultimate objective of Federation

policy is security through peace."

"Oh, so you're trying to set Federation policy now?"

"No. I'm trying to set Dominion policy."

Dax: "Admiral, one of the Jem'Hadar ships has just broken

formation and has gone to warp."

Sisko: "Toward the wormhole?"

Dax: "No, the other way."

Sisko: "I wonder what that means? And where is that Borath?

I thought he was beaming over."

Nechayev: "Defiant to Jem'Hadar flagship. What's the hold-

up?"

Borath appears on screen.

*There is no hold-up, my lady. Merely arrangements to be

made. I am authorized to invite you all to the Founders'

homeworld as our guests.*

"And if we decline?"

He gives a very Italianate shrug and makes a gesture. His

image is replaced by that of the Jem'Hadar squadron.

View of the Defiant and the Jem'Hadar ships turning as a

group and heading for the Homeworld.

[Commercial: Snapple:

"Nog, son of Rom, writes: 'If Snapple is so great, why can't

I get it in tulaberry?'"

Shot of delivery men stacking flats of tulaberry Snapple on

Quark's bar while Quark's staff run around in a panic, and Quark

shouts, "I didn't order these! Where's the packing slip? Let me

see that way bill! I've got the tulaberry franchise in this

sector! Just wait until my lawyer hears about this!"]

The forest. Kahless comes around an enormous tree-trunk and

glances above and to both sides. He examines the rough bark and

the thin red vines running up through the crevises.

"tarpochmey tIHotQo'." ["Don't touch the poisonous vines."]

From behind: "Ouch!"

Kahless advances, then Marguerite, rolling her eyes, and

finally Door Repair Guy, rubbing one hand with the other.

The battle site. The K't'inga cruiser lists helplessly

under the triumphant gaze of the Jem'Hadar ship. A second

Jem'Hadar vessel decloaks and coasts up to the scene of the

action, coming to a complete stop beside its comrade vessel.

Suddenly the running lights of the Klingon ship come on and it

rotates toward the new arrival. The Jem'Hadar newcomer turns

sharply and locks weapons on the Klingon -- and is blown to

smithereens by the other Jem'Hadar.

The Defiant speeds toward the Founders' homeworld in the

company of fifteen Jem'Hadar ships, the stars streaking past. We

see two of the Jem'Hadar break formation and veer away. Cut to

the bridge.

Sisko, looking at the viewscreen: "Something's going on."

Nechayev: "What is the status of that communications relay

we established on this side of the wormhole?"

Sisko: "Still operational. I believe the Dominion decided

they would rather monitor it than destroy it."

Nechayev: "Call home."

Sisko: "Dax."

Dax: "Connecting."

Major Kira pops up on the viewscreen.

Kira: *Commander. Is everything all right there? Have you

made contact with Gowr**fzzt**

Dax: "Transmission interrupted."

Sisko: "Gowron is here in the Gamma Quadrant?"

Shot of Admiral Nechayev thinking galacticopolitically.

Nechayev: "This changes everything."

Odo: "You believe it's Gowron who wishes to forge an

alliance with the Founders?"

Sisko (stepping forward): "That may well be. But do you

really think that the Founders care which Klingon faction they

have in their pocket? Every bit of evidence we've had up to this

point suggests that the Dominion doesn't make allies. We've been

dazzled by the idea that somebody else might gain the

interdimensional gateway, but, really, do the Founders need it?

They seem to come and go at will, and they already have access to

a perfectly good gateway: the Bajoran wormhole. If Gowron and

the leader of the Duras party are both here in the Gamma

Quadrant, it's only a matter of time --"

Nechayev: "Before the Founders seize the opportunity to

decapitate the Klingon Empire. I think our priority now is to

find Gowron and get him home. The Alpha Quadrant doesn't need

another Klingon civil war."

Odo: "It may take some time to shake thirteen Jem'Hadar

escorts."

Dax: "Make that ten. Three more have just veered off,

headed for the same destination as the others."

Sisko: "Dax, use our sensor logs to triangulate the

destination of those ships."

"Already done. Do you think Gowron is there?"

Sisko: "At this rate it shouldn't take long before we find

that out."

The camera closes in on Dax's computer schematic of the

paths of the departing escorts and the red dot where their flight

paths converge.

Cut to the coordinates of the red dot. Jem'Hadar vessels

veer this way and that in a vicious dogfight. Explosions burst

in space. The heavily-damaged K't'inga-class battle cruiser

rotates in the centre of the melee firing phasers into passing

vessels. A wounded ship twists and tumbles past the camera.

Fade to commercial.

[Commercial: RCA:

Picard's ready room. The door opens and the two black and

white RCA doggies pad in and sniff around. The larger dog

balances on its hind legs and begins a hopping two-legged dance,

trying to see the fish in the fishbowl. The little dog gets up

on the chair and watches. The door opens and the dogs scamper

out around Picard's legs. The Captain goes to his desk, tugs on

his waistband, and sits. It takes a second for reality to soak

in. He yelps, leaps up, and turns to look at the seat of the

chair.

"Blast!"]

The Dark Forest. Kahless, Marguerite Duras and Door Repair

Guy advance stealthily. Suddenly there is a crash of snapping

twigs. The two Klingons swing around and assume fighting

postures. DRG snatches up a dead branch, throws it down again,

and rubs his hand, pouting. Klank comes charging up, his eyes

filled with triumph.

"qeylIS. batlh jIHeghta'. Habbe' QuchwIj." ["Kahless! I

have died with honour! My forehead is not smooth!"]

And it's true. There's no sign of Doctor Bashir's

positronic lobe.

"qaHoy'. SuvwI'na' SoH." ["I congratulate you. You are a

true warrior."]

"jIQuchbej." ["I'm so happy."] [Pun alert.]

They slap him on the back.

Kahless: "DaH tlhIanganpu' tImuv." ["Now join the others."]

Klank crashes off through the underbrush. The camera moves

in on Kahless' face as he watches Klank go.

Kahless (under his breath): "loD Do'." ["Lucky man."]

DRG: "ghochDaj Sovlaw'. chaq wIthla'." ["He seems to know

where he's going. Why not follow him?"]

The two Klingons get ready to go, then don't.

Marguerite: "maHeghbe'. nulaj'a'." ["We aren't dead. Will

they accept us?"]

Kahless: "jISovbe'. 'ach tlhIngan maH." ["I don't know.

But, we are Klingon."]

Marguerite: "ghaH." ["And how about him? He's not Klingon.

He'll take some explaining."]

Kahless examines DRG and thinks.

"Saj'a'." ["A pet?"]

DRG: "chope'chugh vaj 'Iw vInobbe''a'. chotIchchugh vaj

venIS Suy vIjatlhbe''a'." ["If you cut me, do I not bleed? If

you insult me, do I not quote the _Merchant of Venice_?"]

Marguerite: "SeyqSpIyr. SeyqSpIyr luvuv." ["Shakespeare!

They respect Shakespeare."]

Kahless: "maj. tlhobchugh vay' vaj SeyqSpIyr Soh. Ha'."

["Good. If anybody asks, you're Shakespeare. Let's go."]

DRG: "pa'Daq vIghoS. vIneHbejbe'. Qu'. Su'.

vaj joHpu'chaj yabDu' lob toy'wI'pu'."

["Thither I must, although against my will,

For servants must their masters' minds fulfill."]

[_The Comedy of Errors_, ActIV, scene i, lines 112-113.]

Exeunt.

[Bob:

"Back to Star Trek: Door Repair Guy in a moment. Don't

forget, right after Door Repair Guy we've got Hard Copy on CHRO,

and this evening they're giving the OJ trial a rest, because the

whole show is devoted to the world-shaking exclusive coverage of

the William Shatner assassination attempt, and here's just a

taste."

Home video footage of Shatner pacing the stage at the far

end of the Westin Hotel ballroom. He waves and heads for the

door on the service corridor side of the room. The image freezes

and a circle appears around a Klingon security guard entering the

service corridor from a door halfway down the ballroom.

Cut to service corridor security camera. We see the tops of

the heads of Shatner and two handlers as they enter the service

corridor from below the camera. There's a shout.

Closed caption: "Qugh yIqaw." ["Remember Kruge!"]

Disruptor fire streaks through the camera shot as Shatner

and the two handlers hit the floor.

Cut to the security camera over the Klingon's door. We see

the head and shoulders of the assailant as he fires. A hand

reaches into the shot and pinches the Klingon's neck.

Closed caption: "Spock!"

Shatner gets to his feet and brushes off his trousers.

Nimoy enters the shot and Shatner goes to embrace him.

Closed caption: "Captain. Not in front of the security

cameras."

Cut to Bob.

"Back to Door Repair Guy" -- he looks at his TV -- "right

after this."]

[Commercial: Snapple:

"Here's a letter from Alexander Rozhenko. He writes: 'My

father says that prune juice is a true warrior's drink. Why

can't you get prune Snapple?'

Cut to Worf's calisthenics programme. In an astonishing

display of maritial arts skill he bisects, decapitates, and/or

disembowels a series of opponents, and is about to cleave the

Snapple delivery-man in two when he spots the label on the

bottle, stops, throws his bat'telh over his shoulder, pops the

cap, drinks, and howls at the sky. Then he hands the bottle

back, and says, "It is very good. Thank you."

"Snapple, made from the best stuff on Earth."]

Shot of Kahless, Marguerite and DRG as they emerge from the

edge of the Dark Forest. The camera turns and rises, revealing a

valley laid out for a tremendous, nearly endless, Klingon

tournament. We see hundreds and thousands of Klingon warriors in

every kind of contest and battle, fighting with bat'telhs,

swords, spiky boxing gloves, even large rocks and uprooted trees.

Banquet tables are set up at intervals and each one is the centre

of some brawl or curse-war. Gradually, the tumult dies down as

everyone turns to stare at the newcomers.

DRG: "toH tayr 'oH." ["So, this is Tyre."] [_Pericles_,

Act I, scene iii, line 1.]

Marguerite hits him in the ribs.

DRG weakly points toward Kahless and coughs until he catches

his breath enough to say: "vItlhej." ["I'm with him."]

A Klingon in the crowd says to another: "SeyqSpIyr qemta'

qeylIS." ["Kahless has brought Shakespeare."]

A chant begins, and gathers strength as those in each

subsequent row join in:

"HenrIy vaghDIch. HenrIy vaghDIch." ["Henry the Fifth!

Henry the Fifth!"]

Soon the valley rings with the name.

"HenrIy vaghDIch." ["Henry the Fifth!"]

DRG: "reH Qat." ["Always popular."]

Marguerite hits him again.

The crowd parts suddenly. Klingons stand back amazed as

Kahless the Unforgettable steps forth from among them and

flourishes a gleaming bat'telh, growling and spitting.

Kahless the Unforgettable: "jechwI'vam 'Iv." ["Who is this

imposter?"]

The Emperor Kahless unsheathes his own weapon and replies:

"tlhonlI' jIH." ["I am your clone."]

"tlhonlij SoH'a'. 'oH vISuqbe'." ["You are my nostril? I

don't get it."]

"'IwlIj jIH." ["I am your blood."]

"not puqpu' vIghaj." ["I never had kids."]

The crowd murmurs.

He turns and shouts:

"puqoypu'wI' tlhIH." ["You are all my dear children."]

This sets their minds at ease. He turns back to the Emperor

Kahless, more annoyed than before.

"chaq tlhon 'Iw qanob." ["Perhaps I'll give you a bloody

nostril."]

"'e' vItIv." ["I'd enjoy that."]

"Ha'." ["Come on."]

They both sweep their weapons in wide arcs and begin to

circle each other.

DRG: "bIrchoH. not thlon may' ghaj SeyqSpIyr." ["Cool.

SHakespeare never had a clone-fight."]

Marguerite kicks the legs out from under him, drops hip-

first onto his ribcage, knocking out all his wind, and stomps off

into the crowd, pushing bystanders aside. Two Klingons pick him

up.

One of the Klingons: "yI'ItQo'. ghItlhmeylIj DIparHa'."

["Don't be depressed. We like your plays."]

Rising crane shot of the two Kahlesses circling within the

ring of spectators.

[Commercial: RCA:

The flying saucer shines its searchbeam through the wide-

screen TV, whisks away the two black and white doggies, and then

speeds off across the desert. The dogs appear inside the

spacecraft and the little one immediately begins to mark its

territory, causing a series of catastrophic electrical failures.

The saucer crashes in New Mexico and the doggies scamper to the

top of a nearby hill to watch the government agencies converge to

spirit the wreckage away.]

Door Repair Guy circulates through crowds of Klingons in the

firm grip of his two admirers.

First fan: "bIQtIq Som juSbejpu' ghaH. bIghItlhta' 'e'

Daqaw'a'." ["Do you remember you wrote, ''Tis certain he hath

pass'd the river Somme'?"]

DRG: "luq." ["Sure."]

Second fan: "HenrIy vaghDIch, wej, vagh, wa'." ["_Henry the

Fifth_, Act III, scene V, line 1."]

DRG: "jIjIv 'e' DaQub'a'." ["Do you think I'm ignorant?"]

The first fan reaches over and hits the second.

"vuvtaHghach yI'agh." ["Show some respect."]

"jIthlIj." ["I apologize."]

First fan: "Hegh Hech. jIlugh'a'." ["It means death. Am I

right?"]

DRG swallows hard and tries to imagine the train of thought.

"Som Hech Somme. porgh Hech Som. SommeDaq may' tIn

luSuvta' tera'nganpu'. vaj bIlugh. Hegh Hech 'oH." ["Somme

means hull. A body is a hull. The Terrans fought a great battle

at the Somme. So you're right. It means death."]

First fan to second: "qaja'ta'." ["I told you."]

In another part of the field Marguerite Duras is searching

for someone. She pushes her way between the testy denizens of

Sto-Vo-Kor, demanding, "DuraS Dalegh'a'. nuqDaq Duras." ["Have

you seen Duras? Where is Duras?"]

At last a Klingon points.

She peers, and then her eyes widen and she hurries forward.

She grabs the Klingon by the arm and spins him around.

"Qu'vatlh." ["Son of a bitch!" (Or words to that effect.)]

Marguerite: "tughov'a'." ["Do you recognize me?"]

Duras: "be'nI' mach. vaj batlh bIHeghpu'." ["Little

sister! So, you have died with honour."]

"ghobe', qoH. jIyIntaH." ["No, fool. I'm still alive."]

"chay' DuH." ["How is it possible?"]

"lojmIt lo'." ["I came here through a gateway."]

He thinks.

"'oH vIlo'laH'a'." ["Can I use it?"]

She smiles, showing all her teeth.

"matu'." ["Let's find out."]

[Commercial: Patrick Stewart:

"When the engineers at Porsche's shuttlecraft stress test

facility wanted to see how much their new type-18 shuttlecraft

would take, they thought of only one man."

Shot of Nick Locarno at the helm, shouting "Whoo-hoo!!" and

leaning left and right with the G-force. We see his shuttlecraft

rebound off one asteroid and then another, and then shoot off

with all thrusters firing.]

The two Kahlesses are locked in personal combat, their

bat'telhs, teeth and foreheads grinding. Following an initial

free-wheeling phase of thrust and parry the contest has quickly

degenerated into a pushing match, the combatants advancing and

retreating across the same foot or two of ground over and over

again. The spectators peer and crane to catch each unproductive

move and countermove.

First spectactor: "QujDaj rurbej QujDaj." ["They fight very

much alike."]

Second spectator: "qorDu' rur." ["Like a family."]

The stalemate continues, and the spectators continue to

watch. The stalemate continues to continue.

First spectator: "naDev potlhbe' poH 'e' Do'." ["Good thing

time has no meaning here."]

Second spectator: "naDev potlh poH." ["Time has meaning

here."]

First spectator: "ghobe'." ["No."]

Second spectator: "HIja'." ["Yes."]

First spectator: "jIQoch." ["I disagree."]

Second spectator: "toH bIlughHa'. wanI' tlha' wanI'.

maghung 'ej maSop. may'vam tlhap 'Iv. wISovQo'. vaj potlh

poH." ["Well, you're wrong. Event follows event. We get hungry

and we eat. Who will win this fight? We don't know. It follows

that time has meaning."]

First spectator: "bIQIpbej. 'ISjaH wIlo''a'. jajvam

DaponglaH'a'." ["You're so stupid. Do we use the calendar? Can

you name today?"]

Second spectator: "potlhHa'." ["Irrelevant!"]

First spectator: "potlh." ["Relevant!"]

Third spectator: "petam." ["Quiet!"]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "wa'maH cha' pem wa'maH cha' ram

je loDnI'wI' moraD vISuvta' jIH." ["For twelve days and twelve

nights I fought my brother Morath."]

Emperor Kahless: "vIqaw." ["I remember."]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "chomISmoH 'e' DanID. 'ach

bIluj." ["You're trying to psych me out. But it isn't

working."]

Emperor Kahless: "DublIjDaq DIrQIb Daghaj. bat'telh rur."

["You have a bat'telh-shaped birthmark on your butt."]

Kahless the Unforgettable: "pegh." ["Secret!"]

Emperor Kahless: "Sov tlhon." ["A clone knows."]

Kahless the Unforgettable (backing off and putting down his

weapon): "nuqneH." ["What do you want?"]

Emperor Kahless: "mu'." ["A word."]

Duras and Marguerite emerge from the trees. The gateway

stands before them.

Duras smiles and turns to Marguerite.

"be'nI' QaQ SoH." ["You are a good sister."]

She smiles happily and we get a good long look at her dental

work.

The Defiant streaks on in the company of three Jem'Hadar.

We see one of them peel away and head for the fight.

The bridge.

Sisko: "A little longer and we can make our move."

Admiral Nechayev swivels the command chair toward him,

thinks, and swivels back toward Dax.

"Lieutenant. What do your instruments tell you on the

estimated length of this story line?"

Dax touches some controls.

"One more episode at least."

"This is playing havoc with my appointment book. Commander,

what say we make our move now?"

Sisko smiles and nods his head.

"Lieutenant. Evasive manoeuvres."

Shot of the Defiant suddenly flipping over and dodging away

from the two Jem'Hadar. They bank around and pursue.

The bridge of the Vor'cha. Gowron leans toward the

viewscreen image of Marguerite, the sweat flying from his

forehead, his knuckles white on the arms of his command chair.

Communications officer: "tam. reH ta." ["Sound off.

Recording running."]

Gowron: "chach puchpa' jol." ["Emergency bathroom

beamout!"]

He disappears in a transporter effect.

The communications officer steps forward and considers the

viewscreen image of the staring Marguerite.

"be' HoS." ["Strong woman."]

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

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

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

Notes on The Nostril:

More Klingons. More puns. More Shakespeare. The illustration at the top comes from Thomas Heywood's The Iron Age, published in 1632, and reprinted in The Riverside Shakepeare, page 498.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 34

Cross Purposes

Starlight falls on the homeworld of the Founders and

reflects dimly on the glutinous surface of the Great Link.

Borath, the elven-eared telekinetic from "The Search, Part Two",

steps down to the shore and sings:

M'appari tutt'amor,

il mio sguardo l'incontro,

bella si che il mio cor

ansioso a lei volo;

mi feri, m'invaghi

quell'angelica belta,

sculta in cor dall'amor

cancellar si non portra,

il pensier di poter

palpitar con lei d'amor

puo sopir il martir

che m'affanna e strazia il cor,

e strazia il cor!

During this a bulge appears in the rippling surface. It

rises, bends, develops humanoid characteristics, and steps forth

as the spokeswoman of the shapeshifters.

"What are you singing?"

"I sing the famous aria from _Martha_. Ah, such beautiful

music. My heart, she's a fly up to the stars. The stars! Now

can I see that they were made for love."

"Are you certain you're not monitoring the Alpha Quadrant

too closely?"

"Ah, bellississima, you have not lived until you have heard

the Texaco Metropolitan Opera! The passions! The cruelties of

fate! The young lovers separated!"

"I see. What of the Klingon vessel?"

"I have been on board it. It carries Marguerite, the little

sister of the Duras family. For many years have they struggled

against their enemies, and at each turn destiny has snatched the

cup of victory from their lips. Cruel destiny! There is also a

clone and a human prisoner."

"You were undetected?"

"Si, donna."

"Have they made contact with our men?"

"I have held back the Jem'Hadar until the next Act."

"Good. Any further developments?"

"Three more ships, two Klingon, one Federation."

"The Defiant?"

"Si."

"It is to be expected." She steps back to the shore. "Keep

me notified."

"I bring you a synopsis at every intermission, my gift to

you."

"Very well."

She hesitates with one foot on the shore, the other

morphing, decides to let things develop as they must, turns and

wades out.

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Avery Brooks as

Commander Benjamin Sisko

Rene Auberjonois as

Odo

Terry Farrell as

Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

Robert O'Reilly as

Gowron

Sara Gilbert as

Marguerite Duras

Natalia Nogulich as

Admiral Nechayev

Harvey Kietel as

Klank

Salome Jens as

The Shapeshifter

Dennis Christopher as

Borath

This time there's no fear of us crashing because I have here

one of those secret phased cloaking devices. Don't ask. I just

have to flip this switch and we'll cruise right through that

planet. This'll be fun. Here we go. Any second now. Say, what

is that LCD saying? PLEASE ALLOW FIVE MINUTES FOR UNIT TO WARM U

Crash.

[Commercial:

Klingon children are playing hoops and javelins in an

ancient stone-paved street. A grey-haired Klingon emerges on a

nearby rooftop and strikes a gong loudly. The children all whip

around to look, then scatter for home, leaving their playthings

behind. We see shot after shot of children sliding into chairs

and digging into plates of gakh under the approving gaze of their

mothers.

Thank goodness for Chef boy''ar dIy.]

View of the K'Vort-class Bird of Prey sweeping deeper and

deeper into the Gamma Quadrant. Cut to the murky bridge.

Marguerite Duras leans forward in the command chair and addresses

the navigator:

"chuq." ["Distance."]

"wa'maH SaD 'uy' quelI'qam." ["Twelve billion kellicams."]

"yItaH." ["Steady as she goes."]

The Klingons on the bridge all stagger and brace themselves

as the ship banks sharply.

Marguerite: "nuq DanID. HelIjDaq yIchegh." ["What are you

up to? Return to your course!"]

Navigator: "yItaH Dajatlhpu'." ["You said, 'Be at a

negative angle.'"]

"ghobe'. yItaH. not yItaH." ["No! 'Continue.' Certainly

not 'be at a negative angle'!"]

"jItlhIj." ["Sorry."]

View of the vessel coming about.

The Defiant. Cut to bridge. Admiral Nechayev is planted

firmly in the command chair. Sisko paces from console to console

behind her. Nechayev leans forward and addresses Dax.

"Lieutenant. I'm waiting for results on that ion trail

analysis."

"The computer is still processing it, Admiral."

"Then give me an interim report!"

"On screen."

The viewscreen image of streaking stars is replaced by a

computer schematic of local ion trail patterns. The screen is

almost white with crisscrossed warp signatures in every stage of

decay.

Sisko: "Quite a lot of traffic. But we still have not

picked up a single ship."

Nechayev: "It's the Jem'Hadar, Commander. They've prepared

the ground well. We can be sure they're watching us closely."

Odo: "Cloaked, no doubt."

Nechayev: "It was essential we leave the Romulans in the

dark. This is a highly sensitive security operation. The

cloaking device was a diplomatic encumbrance."

Odo: "I trust you have an alternate line of defence."

"I have."

She depresses a control on the armrest.

"This is Admiral Nechayev of the USS Defiant to all

Jem'Hadar vessels. We have Constable Odo on board."

Commander Sisko slowly releases the back of the chair beside

him, and says:

"I had nearly forgotten what it was like to live or die by

the intuitive command decisions of a superior officer."

Nechayev smiles. The Defiant speeds on.

View of the antique and battered K't'inga battle cruiser

streaking along at warp speed. Captain Klank leans forward in

the command chair and says:

"chIjwI'. nuq Do." ["Navigator. What speed?"]

"pIvlob Soch, joHwI'. ["Warp factor seven, my lord."]

"Do'. Do' Do. Ha ha ha." ["Lucky. Lucky speed! Ha ha

ha."]

Heads turn. Klingons exchange looks.

Klank begins to pound the armrest rhythmtically with his

fist as if he has a tune in his head. He leans forward.

"nuqDaq jem HaDar." ["Where are the Jem'Hadar?"]

"chaH laDbe' nochmey, joHwI'." ["Sensors do not read them,

my Lord."]

"DItu' 'e' vIchup." ["Let's find them."]

"HIja', joHwI'." ["Yes, my lord."]

Klank wags his finger in the air, then suddenly puts his

hand at the base of his throat and stretches his neck one way and

the other to the sound of crackling cartilage.

"'oy'." ["Sore."]

He begins to beat the air again, and this time sings:

jem HaDar vIpar vIHar. jem HaDar vIpar vIHar.

jem HaDar DaQaw'laH 'ar. jem HaDar DaQaw'laH 'ar.

[I think I hate the Jem'Hadar. (Repeat.)

How many Jem'Hadar can you destroy? (Repeat.)]

One by one the Klingons take up the song, some more

enthusiastically than others. The camera moves from face to face

as they sing, resting at last on the stony visage of the Second

Officer.

The ship speeds on.

Shot of Gowron's Vor'cha attack cruiser at warp speed. Cut

to the bridge. Gowron leans forward toward the navigator and

says:

"Hoch yISopQo'." ["Don't eat them all."]

The navigator surrenders the bowl of cashews. Gowron grazes

meditatively until they're gone, when he snaps to and shouts:

"maDelIn. qaSu'mey." ["Madeline! Cashews!"]

They're in his hand before the last syllable is out of his

mouth. He looks at her.

"choSovchu'. qatlh DuraSpu' lutlhej voDleH." ["You know me

well. Why does the Emperor follow the Durases?"]

She gives him a critical look and says over her shoulder as

she leaves:

"chaq qaSu'meyDaj DaSoppu'." ["Perhaps you ate all his

cashews."]

The doors clang hisses shut behind her. Gowron grunts and

slouches angrily in his chair. The ship speeds on.

[Commercial: Jennifer Sisko for Buick]

Shot of the K't'inga-class attack cruiser. Cut to an out-

of-the-way corridor. The door at the end of the passageway

scrapes open and a Klingon clomps through. He has advanced

several long-legged steps when a hand shoots out of a side-

entrance and grips his arm.

"yaS wa'DIch SoH." ["You are the First Officer."]

"'oH DaSovchu'." ["Well you know it."]

"maw' HoD. qatlh Datambe'.'" ["The Captain has gone crazy.

Why do you not replace him?"]

"laH ghajtaH." ["He is fit."]

"jo' yab ghaj." ["He has a machine brain."]

"Qap." ["It works."]

"not tlhIngan 'oH." ["It is scarcely Klingon."]

"'ut'a'." ["Must it be?"]

"tlhIngan maH." ["This is a Klingon ship."]

"yIchergh." ["Be more tolerant."]

"HoD Datambe'chugh vaj qatam 'ej vItam." ["If you don't

replace him I will replace you and then replace him."]

"Ha'." ["Come on."]

They whip out jagged customized daggers and go at each

other.

Shot of the K'Vort-class Bird of Prey. The bridge. The

navigator turns toward the command chair.

"nom wIghoS." ["We are quickly approaching it."]

Marguerite puts away her knife and the length of wood she

has been whittling and rises from the command chair.

"DaH malegh." ["Now we'll see."]

She takes a Klingon tricorder from her bosom and disappears

out the wheezing door.

Vor'cha. The navigator turns to the command chair.

"joHwI', pov nochmeylIj chu'. wej Dujmey tu'. k't'inga.

DIvI' Duj Devayant. k'vort." ["My lord, your new sensors are

working beautifully. Three ships detected. K't'inga.

Federation ship Defiant. K'Vort."]

Gowron: "majQa'. reH nochmey QaQ yIDIlrup 'e' jatlh

verenganvetlh. k'vort yIqIH." ["Excellent. That Ferengi said,

'Always be prepared to pay for the good sensors.' Intercept the

Bird of Prey."]

The Vor'cha elasticizes and shoots off.

[Commercial:

"Only one Klingon is on the cutting edge of salon style:

vIDal SaSun."

View of Worf in styling chair critically examining his

reflection, then nodding in satisfaction.]

Defiant. Dax's gaze flicks down to the navigational console

and the warning signal flashing there.

"Klingon vessel approaching at warp eight. Vor'cha class."

Nechayev and Sisko: "Shields up!"

"Raising shields. The Klingons are not slowing. They're

passing us."

Nechayev and Sisko make eye contact.

Nechayev: "Follow that ship."

Defiant shoots off.

The bridge of the K't'inga. The navigator turns to Captain

Klank.

"HoD. HIv Duj." ["Captain! Ship attacking!"]

Klank's eyes snap open and he looks around in some

confusion.

"Fire on it!"

The bridge crew's mouths open in like confusion.

Gunner: "InglIS vIjatlhbe'." ["I don't speak English!"]

Klank (collecting himself): "baH." ["Fire!"]

Vintage clip of a K't'inga-class battle cruiser firing a

photon torpedo.

Gowron's bridge. The scene rocks as the photon torpedo hits

home. The lights go down. Sirens honk. Steam bursts out of

ruptured pipes.

Gowron: "DujvetlhDaq yIbaH." ["Fire on that ship!"]

Shot of the Vor'cha-class attack cruiser returning fire.

Klank's bridge. Consoles explode. Klingons fly.

Klank: "Phaser banks! Torpedoes! I mean, pu'DaH. cha."

Navigator: "nargh." ["They're out of range!"]

"tItlha'. nuqDaq yaSpu'wI'." ["Pursue them! Where are my

officers?"]

The navigator begins to input the commands but his console

explodes, sending him rotating across the bridge and rebounding

off the far bulkhead.

Elsewhere, the assistant cook activates a door and starts

down a corridor toward the galley. She slows and crouches down

beside the bodies of the First and Second Officers. They have

run each other through the heart. She takes each by the

forehead, peals back an upper eyelid with either thumb, and

howls. Then she helps herself to a couple of keepsakes, takes up

her pail of gakh, and continues on her way.

Klank: "SeHlaw cha'DIch!" ["Auxiliary control!"]

A Klingon tears a panel off the wall and yanks out a control

stick.

Klank: "jonwI'. yIta'." ["Engineer! Report!"]

* pIvghor mach wIghaj. pagh yoDmey. pagh jol. *

[* We have limited warp drive. No shields. No

transporter.*]

Klank: "yaSpu'mey yItu' vay'. QuQ. chu'." ["Somebody find

my officers! Engines! Engage!"]

The Klingon with the auxiliary control stick torques it just

like a motorcycle accelerator. The venerable K't'inga comes

about, showing its wounds and spraying electrical fire into

space, and starts off in pursuit.

[Bob:

"Whoa, and back to Star Trek: Door Repair Guy in just a sec,

but first I want to say hi and welcome to the Couch to . . . "

"qevIn."

"qevIn, and as you can see he's a Klingon and a member of

the Klingon Assault Group and they're doing security at the

Westin Hotel this weekend and you can win a couple of tickets and

see William Shatner, and I know qevIn you're a big Captain Kirk

fan."

"HoD Qugh HoHpu' ghaH." [Subtitles: "He killed Captain

Kruge."]

"So, like, you and the other Klingons will be there to

protect him from . . . any other Klingons who may want to take

revenge."

"bIlugh." ["That's right."] (Laughs.)

"And we have two tickets for the big convention, and you can

see the number on the screen now, and we're taking caller number

twenty-one . . . yep, we've got a caller, so let's turn up the

speaker phone here. Hi, you're on the Couch."

*qavan.* ["I salute you."]

Bob: "Oh. It's for you."

qevIn: "nuqneH."

*ghoS nab.* ["The plan proceeds."]

qevIn: "jan Daghaj'a'." ["You have the device?"]

*HIja'.* ["Yes."]

qevIn (taking the tickets out of Bob's hand): "cha'

navHommey Dange'." ["You win two tickets."]

*majQa'.*

Bob (glancing uncertainly from side to side) : "So be sure

to catch the Star Trek convention at the Westin Sunday, and we'll

be back to Door Repair Guy . . . after this."]

[Commercial: Doug Gilmour for milk, dressed only in a jersey.

HaHaHa!! Get it?!]

Door Repair Guy is stretched out on the deck of the brig

with his ankles crossed, his head leaning up against the wall and

his hands folded on his stomach, catching a little shut-eye.

Beyond is the bright rim of the holding cell entrance. (Imagine

the cameraman lying on the floor, filming up past the orange

overalled repairman to the opposite side of the room.) We hear a

door scrape open and booted feet approach along the metallic

corridor. Our hero opens one eye and glances toward the door.

The security forcefield disappears and Marguerite Duras steps in,

inspects him for a moment, then walks over and kicks him in the

arse.

DRG: "baQa'. Daspu'mey." ["Hey! Bootspikes!"]

Marguerite: "yIHu'." ["Get up."]

He rises.

Marguerite: "lojmIt DatI'laH'a'." ["Can you fix a door?"]

"luHar mI' mach." ["Some believe it."]

"vaj lojmItwIj yItI'." ["Then fix my door."]

She leads him out. They traverse several corridors, at last

arriving in the main hold. In the centre of the cavernous space

stands a doorframe not unlike the one in DRG's quarters on DS9.

Beside the door, seated expectantly in a portable chair, is the

Emperor Kahless.

Marguerite holds a communicator to her mouth and barks:

"ghorgh." ["How soon?"]

She holds it to her ear. A tinny voice says:

* DaH ghoS. * ["It's coming now."]

View of the Bird of Prey dropping out of warp, the stars

slowing down from streaks to points. The ship coasts forward

toward a bright, glimmering anomaly. Cut to the bridge, where

the bridge crew are carefully piloting the vessel into close

formation with the object. We see the ship park directly below

it, then rise slowly so that the object spills its light across

the hull. The Bird of Prey continues to rise, and the anomaly

passes right through the skin of the vessel into the hold. The

light bursts out between the deckbeams and illuminates the hold

and the upturned faces of Kahless, Marguerite and DRG.

Marguerite passes her tricorder to Door Repair Guy. He

reads it and glances up in surprise.

"perSeronmey." ["Percherons."]

[Commercial: reH qoqa'qola]

The hold of the K'Vort-class Bird of Prey. The percheron

well hangs metres above the doorway. Marguerite is speaking

directions into the communicator to the pilot on the bridge.

"DungDaq. DungDaq. DungDaq. retlhDaq. ghobe'. He pIm.

He pIm." ["Up. Up. Up. To the side. No. The other way. The

other way."]

DRG: "left right je ghajbogh Hol ngeD law' tlhIngan Hol ngeD

puS." ["Wouldn't it be easier if your language had words for

left and right?"]

Marguerite (covering the communicator speaker): "bIjatlh 'e'

yImev." ["Shut up."]

To the communicator: "bIchol. bIchol. bIpaw." ["You're

close. You're close. You're there."]

We see the anomaly edge into the corner of the doorframe

where it is caught by the active field and spread out into a

glowing rectangle around the inner surface of the doorframe.

Marguerite: "Quvvam yIpol." ["Hold these coordinates."]

She puts away the communicator and turns to Door Repair Guy.

"DaH yIchu'." ["Now make it work."]

DRG: "Law of Door Repair Number Eight: 'Always make sure the

door you're trying to open doesn't lead directly to the outside

of the sixty-seventh floor.'"

Kayless: "tlhIngan HolDaq DamughlaH'a' 'oH." ["Can you say

that in Klingon?"]

"Qatlh." ["Difficult."]

Marguerite: "ghoch Hop." ["The destination is far."]

DRG: "nuqDaq." ["Where?"]

Kayless rises and approaches him, looks up deep into his

eyes, and says: "Sto-Vo-Kor."

Klazons begin to wail. Marguerite steps aside and pulls out

the communicator.

"nuq." ["What?"]

*So'Ha' Duj. vor'cha.* ["Vessel decloaking. Vor'cha

class."]

"Gowron. Qu'vatlh. meHDaq vIghoS." ["Gowron!

I'm coming to the bridge!"]

View of Gowron's ship decloaking several hundred metres off

the bow of the Bird of Prey in the confrontational nose-to-nose

style of Klingon parking.

Marguerite hurries onto the bridge and takes the command

chair. "Dotlh." ["Status!"]

"ghung nuH. Qam yoD." ["Weapons locked. Shields up."]

"rI' ghaH." ["He hails."]

"jIH yIchu'." ["Activate viewscreen."]

The eyes of Gowron appear on-screen. They widen and close

imperceptively. Marguerite leans forward and widens her eyes,

growling as she does so. They stare. And they stare.

[Commercial: yIqanQo'. tIvtaHghach yIghaj. pepSIy yItlhutlh.]

Again Borath descends to the shore of the Great Link. He

places his hands on his heart and sings:

Ecco ridente in cielo

spunta la bella aurora,

e tu non sorgi ancora,

e puoi dormir cosi?

Sorgi, mia dolce speme.

Vieni, bell'idol mio.

Rendi men crudo, oh Dio!

lo stral che me feri.

The bulge reappears and takes humanoid form.

"What now?"

"_Il Barbiere Di Sivilglia_."

"I mean, what developments with the four ships from the

Alpha Quadrant?"

"Ah! The Duras faction have located a percheron well from

which they hope to draw power to open an interdimensional

gateway. The ship of Gowron has discovered them. There is a

confrontation in progress, but the Durases are checked by their

desire to keep their vessel stationary, and Gowron by his wish to

return to his capital with the Emperor and his endorsement. The

Federation ship soon will arrive. The third Klingon ship is

damaged but it also soon arrives."

"The gateway. Can it work?"

"I have been to Deep Space Nine and examined the one there.

I believe it works by accident."

"Hm. Surround the Federation ship. Remember, there is a

Founder on board. Destroy the third Klingon vessel. Continue to

observe the two lead Klingon ships."

"As you desire, dearest lady."

Klank's beaten-up K't'inga cruiser staggers on through the

Gamma Quadrant. Cut to the bridge. The crew are all at work

repairing and rerouting systems. Shunts and cables hang

everywhere. Klank steps back from a repair job and nods

approvingly.

"Bodacious. Klank old buddy, when it comes to circuit phase

inversion you're a veritable Bach."

The Gunner turns suddenly.

"baH'a'."

"Bach."

The Gunner depresses a control, firing off a photon torpedo,

to everyone's surprise. The bridge crew stand and watch it curve

away on the viewscreen.

Klank: "yIQIj." ["Explain."]

Gunner: "yIbaH 'e' Dajatlhpu'." ["You said, 'Fire.'"]

The others nod in agreement and look from the Captain to the

Gunner to the screen, wondering what will follow.

The torpedo explodes, outlining the shields of a cloaked

Jem'Hadar warship.

Eyes widen.

The starry image on the viewscreen is replaced by the bridge

of the Jem'Hadar ship. The Dominion's specially-bred crack

soldiers crowd up to the screen, wide-eyed, fighting each other

for a good look and shouting, "Klingons! Klingons!"

The Klingons catch the spirit of the moment and begin to

shout, "DaSpu'nachDu'! DaSpu'nachDu'!" ["Bootspike-heads!"]

Klank: "SuH. DISuv." ["Let's fight them!"]

View of the Klingon and Jem'Hadar vessels turning and

accelerating toward each other, unleashing photon torpedoes and

phasers as they go.

The Defiant. Dax plays the controls, then turns to

Nechayev.

"I've located the Vor'cha and the K'Vort."

"Plot a course. Warp eight. En-"

Sixteen Jem'Hadar vessels decloak in the way.

"They're hailing."

Nechayev and Sisko: "On screen."

Borath appears. He holds up a letter.

"I carry a reply to Odo's message."

Nechayev and Sisko pause and turn toward Odo.

Nechayev: "Bring it over."

Odo feels the weight of the glances stealing in his

direction, smiles nervously, and rocks on his heels.

Gowron leans forward and stares at the glaring image of

Marguerite Duras on the viewscreen. He stretches one hand toward

the floor out of the shot and closes his thumb and forefinger

together, signifying "extreme close-up". After a moment the

Communications Officer moves into the periphery of Gowron's

vision and makes a box with his hands around his own eyes to

indicate the area of the shot. Confident that Marguerite cannot

see it Gowron draws a finger across his throat.

The Communications Officer touches a control and says: "tam

'oH." ["It is silent."]

"jIghung. qaSu'mey tIqem." ["I'm hungry. Bring me some

cashews."]

"HIja', joHwI'." ["Yes, my lord."]

"'ej." ["And."]

"joHwI'a'." ["My lord?"]

Gowron shifts in the command chair.

"HItam 'ej puchpa'Daq yIghos." ["Go to the bathroom for me,

would you?"]

"HIja', joHwI'."

Marguerite Duras leans toward the viewscreen for the sixth

or seventh hundred time, tilts her head, and snarls. Slowly she

stretches her arm out to one side and points at her

Communications Officer. The officer touches some controls and

announces:

"reH ta." ["Recording rolling."]

Marguerite sits back, stretches, and gets up.

"vum Dal." ["Boring work."]

She walks off the bridge.

Door Repair Guy wriggles out from under the interdimensional

gateway, puts down a tool, scratches behind his ear, picks up

another tool, and crawls back under.

Kahless: "tera'nganpu' vIyajchu'be'." ["I do not understand

Terrans well."]

DRG: "bIQ wIrur. reH machoH." ["We are like water,

continually changing."]

Kahless: "lu'. jIQochbe'. bIQ. maj. nagh maH." ["Yes.

I agree. Water. Good. We are stone."]

DRG: "'ej 'Iw tlhIH." ["You're also blood."]

Kahless: "HISlaH. 'Iw maH." ["Yes! We are blood."]

DRG: "tIrbIQ maH." ["We are beer."]

Kahless: "tIrbIQ vIyajchu'be'." ["I do not understand beer

well."]

DRG: "Sto-Vo-Kor DaSuch qatlh DaneH." ["Why do you want to

visit Sto-Vo-Kor?"]

"jIqIH'egh." ["To meet myself."]

The doors to the hold open and admit Marguerite.

"Qap'a' 'oH." ["Does it work?"]

"jISovbe'." ["I don't know."]

"maghoj." ["Let's find out."]

She steps up and through, disappearing in a flash.

Kahless looks at DRG and remarks: "tlhIngan ghaH." ["She

is a Klingon."] He follows.

DRG stands and looks around, scratching underneath his hat

and wondering what comes next. Then a hand reaches out of the

gateway, grabs the front of his overalls, and yanks him in.

Next time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

DRG walks in. Hundreds of Klingon warriors turn and stare.

"vItlhej." ["I'm with him."]

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

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

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

Notes on Cross Purposes:

This is a greatest hit for sure. The title Cross Purposes sums up the whole series -- characters who are not on the same page getting exasperated with each other.

Dennis Christopher plays Borath as Dave Stoller from Breaking Away. It took actual research skills to find those opera lyrics in the age before the worldwide web. I had to sing to a music librarian. Martha.

All personal assistants are named Madeline.

I didn't know I knew those directing gestures.

Klingon puns! baH was among the original handful of Klingon words devised for the first Star Trek movie.

The Klingon language does have words for left and right.

The Dennis Christopher signature is from Daxgraphs.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 33

Klank

Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

Shot of the stars at warp speed from the K'Vort vessel's

point of view. Suddenly the stars jump down to subwarp and Deep

Space Nine looms up.

A Klingon transporter effect surrounds Door Repair Guy and

removes him from his quarters.

The command chair rotates toward him. A Klingon woman

occupies it. She smiles a snaggly grin.

"marghyerIyt jIH. chay' ghamma jogh DaparHa'a'." ["I am

Marguerite. How do you like the Gamma Quadrant?"]

"marghyerIyt DuraS'a'." ["Marguerite Duras?"]

"vIponglu'." ["So I am called."]

A voice from a dark corner: "'ej qeylIS vIponglu'." ["And I

am called Kahless."]

And now this week's exciting episode:

Shot of the K'Vort-class Bird of Prey as it coasts deeper

and deeper into the Gamma Quadrant.

Cut to the ruddy interior. Two Klingon guards are escorting

Door Repair Guy to the brig. They step over the threshold and

drop him in. One of them activates the containment field,

laughs, and they both clomp off. He stands, rubs his posterior,

and looks around. There's not much to distinguish the brig from

any other kind of quarters on a Klingon ship, really; they're all

bare and hard on the behind. This one has a replicator.

"De'wI'. pIpyuS pach. qagh. ro'qegh'Iwchab. targh tIq.

Dargh. Sa' chang. tuj. yuchmey." ["Computer. Pipius claw.

Gakh. Rokeg blood pie. Heart of targ. Tea. General Chang.

Hot. Chocolates."]

The repast appears, along with a little poisonous flower in

a vase. He spreads the food out around him on the floor and

tucks in. Partway through the blood pie a guard strolls by and

stops to watch.

"Soj tlhIngan DaparHa''a'." ["You like Klingon food?"]

"majQa'." ["Yummy."]

"tI mach yISop." ["Eat the little flower."]

"'oH Qob law' SoH Qob puS." ["It's deadlier than you are."]

The guard takes instant offense at this, raises his finger

toward the containment field control panel, thinks twice, and

breaks out in a loud belly laugh.

"bIlugh." ["You're right."] He shakes his finger at Door

Repair Guy. "yab Quj QaQ." ["Good mind game."]

DRG: [belch].

The ship flies on.

A starfield. We move toward the brightest speck, which

grows in luminescence and resolves into a binary star system as

we approach. Stellar matter forming a bright burning tail arcs

away from the orbiting yellow star and spirals inward forming a

glowing disk around the intense white dwarf star. We pass close

by. Voiceover:

"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."

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Avery Brooks as

Commander Benjamin Sisko

Rene Auberjonois as

Odo

Siddig El Fadil as

Doctor Julian Bashir

Terry Farrell as

Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

Colm Meaney as

Chief Miles O'Brien

Armin Shimerman as

Quark

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira Nerys

Robert O'Reilly as

Gowron

Natalia Nogulich as

Admiral Nechayev

Harvey Kietel as

Klank

We make a perfect three-point landing. Unfortunately, the

camera ship is following too closely and plows into our tail,

blowing both vessels to smithereens.

[Commercial: Ottawa Senators

Stanislav Neckar on the Florida Panthers:

"Miao."]

View of Deep Space Nine. The damaged K't'inga-class battle

cruiser is docked at one of the upper pylons.

Cut to the Infirmary. All the beds are occupied by scorched

and bloodied Klingons. The medical team have their hands full.

We see Doctor Bashir bend to press a hypospray against the throat

of an injured Klingon. A gloved fist grabs him by the wrist.

"pagh Hergh." ["No drugs."]

"You have a broken femur. I have to set it."

"'oy'wIj vIneH." ["I want my pain."]

So far Bashir has won this argument with the comatose

patients alone, so he makes a face and says:

"Suit yourself. Nurse, hold him here. Ready? One, two

three . . ."

"ARRRRRRRRrghghghghghghllgh!!!!"

Bashir scans the break, is satisfied, and straps a bone-

knitter around the limb. He is about to move on when again the

fist grabs him.

"Satlho'." ["I thank you."]

"No, really. It was my pleasure."

The dark and smoky bridge of the damaged K't'inga cruiser.

The captain is slouched in his command chair, staring

despondently at the tactical display on the forward viewscreen.

Normally the computer on a Klingon warship will repeat the

vessel's latest action as a sort of screen-saver if there is

nothing else going on. The captain gazes disconsolately at the

screen as the smaller K'Vort-class vessel takes out his shields

and engines in one fell swoop, leaving him to drift sideways

until the recording is repeated. The captain beats his chest.

The tactical display breaks up and is replaced by a

transmission. Gowron appears, first in profile, then turning to

the camera with widening eyes, an intimidation move he got from a

nature film about barn owls.

*toH, tlhangq, bIlujta'. DujlIj qumoHHa'ta'. Dujunta'

be'ni'. qaja' 'e' chIch vIneH. taHHa' jabbI'ID.* [*So, Klank,

you have failed. You have brought dishonour to your ship. The

sister has evaded you. I just wanted to tell you. Transmission

ended.*]

The screen returns to its continual replay of Klank's

disgrace. He groans deeply and fumbles for his disruptor.

Cut to a side-chamber in the Great Hall of the Ruling

Council on Qo'noS. Gowron steps away from the viewscreen and

thinks about his next move.

"tlhonDaq jIja'qu'law'. De'wI'. nuqDaq voDleH." ["I

suppose I should fill in the clone. Computer, where is the

Emperor?"] {Linguistic note: "tlhon" is a Klingon imitation of

the English word "clone", but it also means "nostril". "Clone",

incidentally, derives from the Greek "klon" meaning "twig".}

*SaHbe' voDleH qeylIS.* [*Emperor Kayless is not present.*]

"nuq. nuqDaq ghaH." ["What? Where is he?"]

*mejpu'.* ["He left."]

"nuqDaq ghoS'a'." ["Where did he go?"]

*pa'.* ["Away."]

"yIHuv." ["Be more specific!"]

*ghamma jogh.* ["The Gamma Quadrant."]

Closeup of Gowron, his eyes widening in dawning awareness.

[Commercial: Ottawa Senators

Alexi Yashin on the Philadelphia Flyers:

"Flyer. What is? Snow sled, no? They are snow sled."]

View of Deep Space Nine. Sisko's office. Commander Sisko

is at his desk being lectured by Admiral Nechayev via desktop

computer.

Admiral Nechayev: *Next, as regards the injured Klingon

crewmen. I'm sending Argo to transport them back to Klingon

space. I want the K't'inga cruiser returned to its home base

with a skeleton crew only. Is she space-worthy?*

"Our scans indicate that she is in need of two to three

days' repair."

*Haven't you boarded her?*

"No."

*Get to it, Commander! Now, concerning the Duras factor.

Starfleet Command believes that this is a last-ditch attempt by

the House of Duras to supplant Gowron on the Ruling Council. The

Romulan alliance has been of no benefit to them at all. Clearly

the Duras faction has been a tool of Romulan policy, not the

other way around, as the Klingons would have preferred.*

"My God, Admiral. You're not suggesting that the Duras

family are attempting to align themselves with the Dominion?"

*If you'll allow me to finish a sentence, Commander. We

believe that the Duras family are attempting to align themselves

with the Dominion. It is unfortunate that our patrols were not

able to turn them back toward the Empire, or that Gowron's men

were not able to accomplish their mission. We are now faced with

a decision. Some action on our part is called for, but what?*

"I'll take the Defiant in myself and find them."

*Oh, excuse me, Commander, that was a rhetorical question.

I have a meeting in ten minutes to decide this matter. I wasn't

looking for advice.*

"I see."

*Well, if that is all . . .*

"Admiral, the percherons."

*Oh, yes, Commander. What's that all about?*

"One of my technicians has built a gateway leading directly

from his quarters to Nathan Phillips Square in Toronto."

*Toronto? Toronto, Earth?*

"Yes."

*And people can go through it?*

"Yes."

*I can be in Toronto in fifteen minutes. I'll just pack a

few things. This is excellent news. I shall lead the expedition

into the Gamma Quadrant! Nechayev out!*

The doors to the bridge of the K't'inga cruiser open with a

hydraulic scrape and O'Brien peers in holding a tricorder.

"Hello? Anybody home? Nyookneck?"

He comes over to the captain's chair, looks at the slumped

body of Klank, the disruptor, then, hesitantly, up at the

ceiling.

"Oh, Murphy. O'Brien to Bashir."

*Bashir here. What's is it, Chief?*

"I'm on the Klingon vessel, Doctor. It's the Captain. He's

shot himself."

*Is he dead?*

O'Brien tries to decide.

"Hard to tell."

*Feel his neck.*

"Oh. Do I have to?"

*Come on, Chief. I could be a matter of life or death.*

O'Brien searches around for a pulse, his face squeezed up

about as tight as it can go without completely shutting off

vision and air.

"I think I feel a pulse."

*Must be his redundant system. Stand back. I'm beaming him

out.*

Klank disappears in a transporter effect. O'Brien looks

around, holding his hand in the air and trying to find something

to wipe the mauve blood onto.

[Bob:

"Whoa, boy oh boy. Back to more Door Repair Guy in a

minute. As you know, there's an information revolution going on

out there, and it doesn't do to fall out of touch, because, well,

whoa, that'd be bad, so let's just fire up the old modem here and

see what's doing on the information highway today."

Shot of computer screen with list of discussion groups.

"This looks interesting:

alt.sexy.maintenance.men.in.overalls. What can that be about?

Let's see. I'll just click on this."

Shot of page of text. Bob reads:

"'If I met Door Repair Guy at a convention, what would I do?

The trick is to get him into a service corridor. All convention

centres have them, and they're usually empty except for a few

golf carts or forklifts. Anyway, you say, 'Oh, I've got

something in my eye, can you help me get it out? I think there's

some good light over here' and once he's in the corridor you go

into your big purse (remember, we talked about big purses) and

give him a good shot of pressurized whipped cream in the face.

Then --' er, and it goes on from there."

"I should remind you that there's a Star Trek convention at

the Westin Hotel May 21st, and Bill Shatner'll be there, and so

will I, if I can just lay my hands on some orange overalls."]

[Commercial: Ottawa Senators

Jim Paek on the Pittsburgh Penguins:

"Sigh."]

The operating theatre in the Infirmary. Bashir and his

medical staff in red surgical garments, now liberally smeared

with mauve Klingon blood, are hard at work saving Captain Klank.

Bashir: "Heart-rate?"

Assistant: "Ninety over one hundred and twelve. Is that

good?"

Bashir: "Who knows. As long as his heart keeps going I'll

be happy. I'm ready to implant the positronic lobe."

The second assistant holds it up and says, "I'm not certain

that the programming is compatible with a Klingon personality."

Bashir: "It's all we've got. From here on it's do or die."

The camera draws back.

Shot of Odo and a security detail racing along the

Promenade. As they approach Quark's the sounds of battle

increase.

One Klingon throws another over the bartop and among the

Ferengi staff who have been cowering there since the melee began.

The Ferengi screech and dart away on all fours for the door. Odo

passes them on the way in.

"All right, everybody. The fun's over."

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he's forced to

emergency-morph, the knife passing through the donut hole where

his head was into a nearby pillar.

Quark dashes from behind a tangle of overturned tables and

grabs Odo.

Quark: "I've seen Klingons on a tear before, but this goes

beyond fun and games. These guys really mean to kill each

other."

"Is everybody out?"

"I'm out. That's all I care about."

"They're probably frustrated at losing that battle."

"You're telling me."

They duck as a dabo wheel smashes into the wall above them.

Doctor Bashir leans down toward the camera and says, "I

think he's coming to."

Shot of Captain Klank opening first one eye and then the

other. A large metal plate covers half his forehead.

"nuqDaq jIH." ["Where am I?"]

"You're on Deep Space Nine. You suffered a severe head

injury. We have implanted a positronic lobe to replace the

damaged brain tissue. It's going to feel a little strange for a

while."

"chay' jIrIQpu'." ["How was I injured?"]

Bashir hesitates a moment, then says, "You shot yourself."

Klank thinks about this a moment, then seems to remember.

His hand comes up and feels the metal plate.

Bitterly: "Hab." ["Smooth."]

Bashir and his assistants exchange looks, taking this as a

bad sign.

[Commercial: Ottawa Senators

Don Beaupre on the Washington Capitals:

"Sigh."]

Shot of Deep Space Nine with the K't'inga cruiser still

docked at the upper pylon. Cut to Door Repair Guy's quarters.

Sisko and Dax are waiting beside the gateway.

Dax: "The Klingons destroyed Quark's. Now they're sitting

on the floor and telling stories about the death of kings. It's

sad."

Sisko: "Argo's still hours away. I'll be glad to get rid of

them. I wonder how O'Brien's doing with that cruiser? Sisko to

O'Brien."

*O'Brien here.*

"How's it going up there, Chief?"

*We've got most of the systems on line now, and about half

of the automation. The Klingons could fly out right now if they

didn't mind doing without shields or photon torpedoes.*

"Forget about the torpedoes, Chief. I don't want them

getting any ideas once they're under way."

*Even with this automation the skeleton crew won't have any

time to take their eyes off the drive gauges.*

"That's what I want to hear. Keep up the good work. Sisko

out."

Dax: "Here she comes."

The two watch as Admiral Nechayev carries her luggage across

the square and up to the gateway. She steps through.

"Commander. Lieutenant." She hands her luggage to Dax.

"Is Defiant gassed up and ready to go?"

"As always, Admiral. There's the matter of the Romulan

cloaking device. I assume that they do not yet know about the

purpose of this mission or of the shift in allegiance of the

House of Duras."

"We can't have that woman T'Rul around. Take it out."

"She'll have to agree to that."

"Then she has to want to take it out. Admiral Nechayev to

Subcommander T'Rul."

*T'Rul here. What is it?*

"We're about to take the Defiant into the Gamma Quadrant,

but we don't want any Romulans along."

*Then you'll damn well have to do without my cloaking

device!*

"If that's the way it must be. Nechayev out. They don't

make you admiral for nothing. This gateway is a splendid

convenience. I trust you've kept a guard on it."

"There are two guards just outside that door."

"Good. There's a job for the inventor at Starfleet HQ, you

can trust me. Who is it?"

"His name is Technician Door Repair Guy. He comes from

Nepean 5."

Nechayev displays a split second of surprise before her

professional demeanour kicks in. She takes Sisko by the arm and

draws him aside.

"I have to talk to you about this. Have him placed under

protective custody immediately."

"Admiral, the Duras ship beamed him away just before it

entered the wormhole."

This time it's panic that shows through momentarily. She

takes a deep breath and straightens her back even straighter.

"Then let's get that ship through that wormhole."

[Commercial: Ottawa Senators

Jamie Baker on the San Jose Sharks:

"Woo-hoo!"]

Doctor Bashir and an assistant walk through the Infirmary,

taking in all the empty beds.

"One thing about Klingons. You never have to discharge

them. They just get up and go. Where's Klank?"

"He left a few minutes ago. He said he wasn't going to hang

in a public hospital."

"Hang? That's very idiomatic. Where did they design that

lobe? California?" It sinks in. "Computer, where is Captain

Klank?"

*Captain Klank is in room 02-218.*

"That's just down the Promenade! Come on!"

They dash down the Promenade to a disused storefront.

Bashir tries the door. Locked.

"Emergency medical override Bashir Game Set Match!"

The door swooshes open. Through the door we glimpse Klank's

bootspiked feet kicking in the air.

Bashir: "Damn! Doesn't he value fine surgery? Give me your

phaser!"

"I don't have one!"

He slaps his head and looks around. His eyes fall on the

gravity controls.

"Oh, Julian, you are brilliant."

He taps the controls and begins to float upward, along with

his assistant and an astonished, if disoriented, Klank.

[Commercial: Ottawa Senators

Mark Lamb on the Philadelphia Flyers:

"Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! etc etc.

(Lies on his side on the floor and walks in a circle.)]

The turbolift deposits Sisko and Nechayev at Ops.

Sisko: "The Admiral and I are taking the Defiant into the

Gamma Quadrant to try to counteract the efforts of the Duras

family, and to bring back our missing crewman. Kira, the

station's yours. Dax, you're with me."

Nechayev: "We'll need the shape-shifter."

Sisko gives her an patient look and taps his commbadge:

"Odo, would be so good as to join us on the Defiant? We're going

to visit the Dominion."

*Commander, the station is crawling with Klingons.*

"So, unfortunately, is the Gamma Quadrant."

*As you wish.*

Kira: "Odo's right, Commander. Couldn't this wait until the

Argo has departed? What if the Klingons decide to seize

control?"

Admiral: "Dissuade them. Commander, time presses."

Sisko, in a loud voice, as they enter the turbolift:

"Everyone here has my full confidence." He glances down at the

top of Nechayev's head and makes a moment's eye contact with Kira

as the turbolift starts away, as if to say, "With the possible

exception of . . ."

The corridor leading to the Defiant. Sisko, Nechayev and

Dax approach just as T'Rul emerges from the ship with a cloaking

device thrown over her shoulder. As they pass, T'Rul and

Nechayev exchange cutting looks. Sisko and Dax glance at each

other, and Dax silently mouths the word, "Miao."

Exterior shot of the outer ring as Defiant pulls away,

turns, and heads for the wormhole. The Celestial Temple opens

its gates, admits them, and closes again.

The Infirmary. Klank is laid out on a table under light

sedation with a breathing tube stuck down his throat. Julian is

entering his report on a small computer pad. He becomes aware of

the sound of tramping boots, lots of them. He turns in time to

see a dozen Klingons crowd into the room. They hoist Klank up by

the arms, yank out his tube, and leave.

Klank: "nuqDaq maghoS." ["Where are we going?"]

A Klingon: "yay." ["Victory!"]

The all begin to shout it as they crowd into the turbolift.

"Yay!" "Yay!" ["Victory! Victory!"] [Look, I didn't

write the Klingon Dictionary.]

Bashir taps his commbadge: "Bashir to O'Brien. You may want

to start packing up your tools."

Exterior view of Deep Space Nine. The K't'inga-class

cruiser pulls away and heads for the wormhole. A moment later

it's in the Gamma Quadrant.

*O'Brien to Kira. The Klingons are gone.*

"Just in time. Here comes the Argo."

But it's not the Argo. It's a Vor'cha-class attack cruiser

decloaking.

Kira: "Red Alert!"

View of the huge Klingon warship's weapons arrays sweeping

past the point of view of the Ops viewscreen. This image is

replaced by the staring eyes of Gowron.

Gowron: "nuqDaq ghoS'a' chaH." ["Which way did they go?"]

Kira: [points in the direction of the wormhole].

Gowron eyes follow the finger. He barks: "gharghjuH. Hong.

yIchu'." ["Wormhole! Impulse power! Engage!"]

The Vor'cha ship disappears into the wormhole.

Kira puts her hand on her forehead and drops into her chair.

She taps her commbadge.

"Kira to Bashir. If there are a couple of chairs left

standing in Quark's at the end of this shift I'll buy you a

beer."

*[groans] Oh, Major. You're an empath. Quark's it is.*

Shot of Quark, amid the debris of his bar, settling

carefully into a chair to see if it'll still hold. It holds, he

grins and throws his arms up in triumph, to the applause of the

other Ferengi, and the rear legs give out, sending him tumbling

backward and his anxious employees rushing forward to pick him

up.

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

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

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

Notes on Klank:

On average I was able to produce a new DRG episode every two weeks. Klank took 24 hours.

"Miao." There was a series of Ottawa Senators ads that featured players making snide remarks about opposing teams. I think the Stan Neckar ad is for real. The Senators of the mid-Nineties had some seriously obscure players.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 32

Threshold

Tracking shot of Deep Space Nine.

The Promenade. A klezmer band have set up outside the

Cardassian Lanes bowling alley and are tearing into "Paint It

Black". The accordian player spots a disapproving Odo

approaching around the bend, elbows the clarinet player, and the

bunch of them have packed up and scammed out of there, the last

one pausing to slam a bowler hat full of change on his head,

before Odo can cover the distance.

Odo (scowling after their flying coattails): "Buskers."

Shot of First City, the capital of the Klingon Empire.

Weather: overcast with scattered showers. The camera draws back,

revealing the viewscreen frame around the picture. Further

camera tracking reveals that we are in fact inside the building

at the centre of the view: the mighty, dramatically lit Great

Hall of the Ruling Council. The huge chamber is deserted, except

for a few Klingons, mostly civil servants hurrying from place to

place on various bureaucratic errands. Three musicians sit idly

in one corner, their horn, drum and anvil silent.

First musician: "SIStaH." ["Still raining."]

Second musician: [grunts].

Third musician: "'It." ["Depressing."]

Gowron is slouched in the chair of the leader of the Ruling

Council, discontentedly defacing the ornate armrest with a d'k

tahg knife. A Klingon woman enters and places a bowl of nuts on

the scored surface.

"meghraj." ["Your lunch."]

"vIghovbe'. tar chojab'a'." ["I don't recognize it. Are

you serving me poison?"]

"HISlaH. jajvamDaq tar qajab." ["Yes. Today is my day to

poison you."]

He rolls the nuts around in the bowl.

"nuq Dapong'a'." ["What do you call it?"]

"qaSu'mey. tera'ngan Soj." ["Cashews. A human food."]

He flares his nostrils.

"tlhIngan jIH." ["I am a Klingon."]

"HIja', vISov. meghraj yISop." ["Yes, I realize that. Eat

your lunch."]

He tries one.

"QaQ." ["They're good."]

A messenger enters and salutes.

"joHwI', De' Dun." ["My Lord, great news!"]

Gowron perks up and fixes his owllike gaze on the messenger.

"yIja'." ["Report."]

"may' Dun. enterprI' Qaw'lu'." ["There has been a great

battle. Enterprise is destroyed."]

Gowron widens his eyes and steps halfway off the dias.

"toH. Hegh'a' piqarD." ["So. Picard is dead?"]

"ghobe', joH'wI'. narghta' beq." ["No, my Lord. The crew

escaped."]

Gowron advances and takes the messenger by the collar,

presses the d'k tahg to the Klingon's throat, and snarls:

"vaj qatlh chonuQ." ["Then why do you disturb me?"]

"Heghlaw' Lursa B'Etor je." ["Lursa and B'Etor are

apparently killed."]

Gowron's eyes widen further. He backs off.

"jagh'pu'wI'. bInepchugh vaj bIHegh." ["My enemies. If

you're lying I'll kill you."]

"bInepbe'." ["I do not lie."]

Gowron's gaze turns inward and he wanders away, rolling his

head from side to side. The messenger follows him with his eyes,

and whispers to the serving woman:

"pum DuraS qorDu'. qatlh lopbe' ghaH." ["The House of

Duras is destroyed. Why does he not triumph?"]

Serving woman (hereafter maDelIn): "qoH. chaH poQ. ngoQ

ghaH nob." ["Idiot. He needs them. They give him purpose."]

"toH." ["Ah!"]

"'ej B'Etor muSHa'pu'." ["Besides, he had a thing for

B'Etor."]

"jIyaj." ["I see."]

"yIbej. wuq." ["Watch. He has decided what to do."]

Gowron ceases his wandering and shoots a glance at the

musicians.

"nuqDaq may'." ["Where is the music?" (Literally: "Where

is the battle?")]

The musicians strike up an opening salvo.

First musician: "nuq wIreHneS." ["What have we the honour

to play?"]

"LoDor valpergha je 'ay' SochmaHDIch yIreH." ["Play Lodore

and Valperga, the fourteenth movement."]

They begin. Gowron, pleased with his new resolve, sheathes

his dagger and stomps purposefully to his throne. He turns

dramatically at the step and declares:

"rInbe' Qu'wIj. yIntaH be'nI' wejDIch. wo' buQtaH ghaH.

vaj DuraS qorDu' vISuvtaH." ["My task is not completed! The

third sister survives! She continues to threaten the Empire.

Thus I will continue to fight the family of DuraS."] (As always

he pronounces the name Duras as if it means "pile of shit".)

He sits, and stares into the distance, hatching plots

against the youngest sister of Lursa and B'Etor, and wolfing down

cashews. Within moments the bowl is empty. He stares at it in

surprise, grips it by the rim, and holds it out.

"qaSu'mey. qaSu'mey."

maDelIn walks over and grabs it from him.

"DaparHa' 'e' vISovpu'." ["I figured you'd like them."]

A starfield. We move toward the brightest speck, which

grows in luminescence and resolves into a binary star system as

we approach. Stellar matter forming a bright burning tail arcs

away from the orbiting yellow star and spirals inward forming a

glowing disk around the intense white dwarf star. We pass close

by. Voiceover:

"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."

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Avery Brooks as

Commander Benjamin Sisko

Rene Auberjonois as

Odo

Siddig El Fadil as

Doctor Julian Bashir

Terry Farrell as

Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

Colm Meany as

Chief Miles Edward O'Brien

Armin Shimmerman as

Quark

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira Nerys

Cirroc Lofton as

Jake Sisko

Robert O'Reilly as

Gowron

Kelsey Grammer as

Captain Bateson of the Bozeman

and Natalia Nogulich as

Admiral Nechayev

Oh-oh. I'm reading a 23% degradation of the impulse

reaction chamber's dispersion-strengthened hafnium excelinide

containment shell. Something must have gone wrong with the

replaceable crystalline gulium fluoride layer. We just got a new

one two weeks ago! We must have encountered some kind of anti-

proton intrusion into our universe back there in that last star

system! Reactor shutdown is imminent! There it goes! What's

this? We're losing attitudinal control! Structural integrity

field power conduit number two is offline! Explosive

decompression on Deck Three! Receiving multiple reports of

steampipe rupturing! What's that? A mountain?

We crash.

[Commercial: Q for Quaker State motor oil:

Shot of Q in rear admiral's uniform looking askance at a can

of Quaker State motor oil.]

Ops. It's the beginning of the morning watch, and the staff

are still digesting the big news story of the day.

Kira: "So, apparently, this El-Aurian scientist was blowing

up stars to alter the course of this energy ribbon thing so that

it could pick him up off the planet surface and whisk him away to

the Nexus."

Dax: "Hold on. What do you mean by 'blow up'?"

Kira: "You know. Nova. Kablooey."

Dax: "But in order to alter the course of a celestial object

you would have to change the position or the mass of the

neighbouring objects. A nova does neither of these things."

"Well, I don't know. You're the scientist. All I know is

that it actually worked, except that he accidently whisked

Captain Picard away too, and Picard found another Starfleet

officer in the Nexus, a guy from the 23rd century, and the two of

them came back, duked it out with the El-Aurian, and prevented

him from destroying the planet's sun, thereby saving not only the

Enterprise crew but also millions and millions of people on a

nearby planet."

O'Brien: "Wait a minute. You're saying Picard went into the

Nexus when the energy ribbon destroyed the planet, found Kirk,

and brought him back out of the Nexus in time to prevent the

destruction of the planet? How could he have done something the

consequence of which was the prevention of the thing he needed to

do? It makes no sense."

Dax: "It's temporal mechanics, Chief."

"Whooph."

The control panel next to Dax's elbow emits a warning beep.

She turns and investigates.

"This is unusual. Sensors have just picked up a percheron

emission originating in the Habitat Ring."

O'Brien: "Percherons? That's strange. You don't see

percherons every day, unless someone's operating some kind of

heavy particle matrix parting system. I didn't think we had any

of those on board. What coordinates did they come from?"

"Room 04-451. Personal quarters, currently occupied by one

of your technicians, namely Door Repair Guy."

"Why doesn't that surprise me? Do you think the percherons

could represent some danger to the station?"

"It depends on what he's doing with them."

"You know, I had a feeling this would turn out to be one of

those days. This morning the replicator . . ."

Sisko comes out of his office. "Isn't anyone going to

investigate that percheron emission?"

O'Brien grabs his toolcase. "On my way!"

[Commercial: Q for Quaker State motor oil:

Shot of Q eyeing the motor oil. He opens his mouth to

speak, then stops himself, screws up his face, and glares off

camera. "I don't need this, you know. I am omnipotent." A

voice off camera responds: "Yeah, yeah." Q folds his arms and

glares at the motor oil.]

Shot of O'Brien barrelling along a Habitat Ring corridor,

reading the door numbers as he goes. He comes up behind Quark

who is carrying a large takeout bag and also reading the door

numbers.

Quark: "Explain to me again how these Federation door

numbers work."

"It's like a starship. Every level has a number. Then you

divide the Habitat Ring into segments. Every segment has a

number. Then each room is assigned a number according to its XYZ

co-ordinates."

"And do the segment numbers run clockwise or

counterclockwise?"

"Clockwise, if your point of view is above the station."

"That's fine. Now which way is clockwise?"

"Like a clock."

"When was the last time you saw a clock?"

"Ah. Well now. There's one in Commander Sisko's office."

"Does it run clockwise?"

"I'm not sure. Saltah'nan clocks might not run clockwise.

Look, here's a clock." He draws on the wall with a finger.

"This is clockwise, and this is counterclockwise."

"I see. Now, some people say counterclockwise and others

say anticlockwise. What's the difference?"

"I don't want to get into anti-time."

"Wouldn't it just be easier if this side of the corridor had

even numbers, and that side had odd numbers?"

O'Brien takes a deep breath. "Yes."

Quark resumes his search. "The Cardassian's had a simpler

method. Nufrek's room. Borot's room. Everyone was happy."

"I'm sure the Bajorans were ecstatic."

"Well, it beats their system. They only use auspicious

numbers. Five, eight, thirteen, twenty-nine."

"Thirteen is an auspicious number?"

"Sorry I mentioned it."

"Where are you going with that anyway?"

"It's a delivery for that Door Repair Guy. Takeout from the

Klingon restaurant. They won't serve him there because of some

discommendation or other. Those Klingons. That Door Repair Guy

is their best customer, but will they even come out of the

kitchen when he's around? No. And they call it a service

economy. So I do the pickup and charge a small delivery fee."

"And you get the tip."

"I deserve the tip."

"Here it is. 04-451." He pulls out a tricorder.

"Definitely the source of the percherons." He rings.

"Percherons?"

"They're a subatomic particle."

"Are they anomalous?"

"In this instance, yes."

"Here." Quark thrusts the takeout bag at O'Brien and

hurries off. "You deserve the tip."

O'Brien rings again. No response.

"Computer. Emergency access authorization O'Brien 333 YIM."

The door swooshes open. He steps in.

The room is decorated in early rec room revival. Along one

wall is what appears to be a complete run of _Field and Stream_.

Mounted above that is a taxidermically preserved SISbat'telh

Dawt. Opposite is what must be the sector's largest collection

of aural paleotechnology. A small fusion generator powers a

tangle of components assembled with a view to playing anything

from an isolinear rod to an Edison cylinder. A Lazy-Boy recliner

occupies one corner, beside it a case of Labatt Y empties. Tools

and spare parts are scattered all around the room in sort of an

aura at the centre of which stands a large doorframe. Coaxial

cables lead off from the base of the doorframe toward mechanisms

of diverse origin -- Klingon, Cardassian, Romulan, even Benzite.

Within the doorframe is a view of a city square. Two curved

towers, one taller than the other, are cupped around a central

mushroom-shaped structure. In the foreground stand a series of

slender arches. O'Brien taps his commbadge.

"O'Brien to Ops. I think somebody'd better get down here."

As O'Brien waits for backup he sees Door Repair Guy

approaching across the square, toting an armload of plastic bags

past a bulbous bronze sculpture. He steps up to the doorframe

and enters the room, only then noticing O'Brien.

"Hey. Hi. Cool, eh? Toronto. I just came in from Sam the

Record Man."

[Commercial: Q for Quaker State motor oil:

Q glances at the motor oil, then off camera, then approaches

the camera, says, "Viscosity," with a sour look on his face,

glances off camera again and asks, "There, are you happy?"]

The door chimes. O'Brien hurries over and enables it. It

opens to reveal Doctor Bashir.

"Chief, what is this? Why is this door locked?"

O'Brien, in sotto voce: "I don't need a doctor here, I need

a scientist. Step outside and call Dax. And get Odo too."

Bashir, drily: "Your wish is my command."

DRG: "Who was that?"

"Oh, ah, just Quark. He forgot to collect for the Klingon

food."

"Great! It's here!" He digs into the bag. "Racht?"

"Er. I'm trying to watch my weight."

DRG loads a handful of brown growths into his mouth and

chews meditatively. His forehead creases.

"Strange that Quark would forget to be paid."

The door chimes. O'Brien answers it. Dax, Bashir and Odo

are all there.

Odo: "All right. What's going on here?"

O'Brien, still whispering: "I'm not sure, but there seems to

be a gateway of some kind leading directly to Earth. I just saw

this man walk through it."

"So!" Odo pushes into the room. "Absent without leave, are

we?"

DRG points to himself. "Are you talking to me?"

Bashir, entering: "A transporter of that range is completely

beyond our capabilities. The Iconians apparently once had a

technology like this. I'd better get Commander Sisko here.

Bashir to Sisko."

Dax has gravitated over to the stereo system and begun

rooting through the assortment of vintage recordings in various

formats. She gasps and pulls out an LP.

"Look, Odo, Leo Sayer!"

Sings:

You've got a cute way of talkin',

You've got the better of me.

Just snap your fingers and I'm walkin'

Like a dog hangin' on your leash.

Odo: "Musicians."

The door chimes. Bashir answers. It's Sisko. "Why is this

door locked?" He sees the gateway.

O'Brien: "It's some kind of transporter, Commander. It goes

all the way to Earth."

"That's impossible."

"See for yourself." He motions to DRG, who brushes his

hands off and makes to go through.

Odo: "Oh no you don't."

Sisko: "Odo."

DRG goes through and crosses the square. They all watch.

Bashir: "That's a Henry Moore, isn't it?"

The door chimes. Odo responds. It's Garak.

"Did someone call me?"

"I don't think so."

"My, my, look at that."

Sisko: "Get him out of here!" The door is shut.

DRG steps back through the gateway, eating a bag of popcorn.

Sisko: "Where did you get this?"

"They sell it from little carts."

"No, I mean the technology to build this."

DRG: "I just put it together from spare parts."

O'Brien: "He's right, Commander. There's almost nothing

here that you couldn't get at any halfway sophisticated trading

post. Granted, you'd have to have a decent grasp of various

alien technologies. How did you solve the pattern

integrity horizon problem?"

DRG: "Just needed enough horsepower."

Dax, in the act of loading a ten-CD magazine into the CD

player: "Of course! The percherons!"

Sisko slaps the back of his own head in disbelief. "People.

Listen up a minute. This is top top secret. I cannot go too far

in impressing on you how top secret this is. If this were to

fall into the wrong hands . . ."

*Kira to Sisko. Communication from Gul Ducat.*

"Sisko here."

*Commander Sisko. Am I to understand that Deep Space Nine

is being used as a test site for offensive transporter-based

weapon delivery systems?*

"You are not. Sisko out!" He looks around in exasperation.

"Garak!"

He takes a deep breath and glowers at Door Repair Guy.

DRG: "You know, the thing really doesn't work properly. I

was trying to get to Nepean 6 via an interdimensional gateway

like the one in this weedwacker." He holds it up.

Shot of Sisko, O'Brien, Dax, Bashir, and Odo at a loss for

words before the weedwacker.

[Bob:

"Wow! Back to Door Repair Guy in just a moment, but first

we're on the Internet to see what cyberheads are saying about

Star Trek: DRG online."

Image of Bob replaced by image of computer screen.

"I've got my fav list all lined up here, and why don't we go

into alt.fan.drg? Here's the list of articles. 'Dweenie

contract negotiations.' 'Workboots.' 'Why won't Groucho Marx

answer my e-mail?' Hey, this looks interesting. 'Complete

lyrics to the Nepean song.' Let's see what it says, and you can

sing along." Sings:

Nepean, Nepean,

It's a wonderful place to be in,

With traffic signs and curbs and drains

And lots and lots of passing lanes.

Nepean, Nepean,

From everywhere else they're fleein',

To watch the transport trucks unload

Or race the lights on Baseline Road.

Nepean, Nepean --

Cut back to the couch. Two grips are wrestling it out from

under Bob.

"What the --?"

"They're mobbing the building! We need this to barricade

the doors!"

"Back to Door Repair Guy in a second!"]

[Commercial: Q for Q-tips:

Q holds up a blue box of Q-tips, is about to deliver his

endorsement, then remembers who he is, becomes agitated and

squeezes the box so violently that cotton-tipped swabs fly all

over the set.]

The Klingon capital. Weather: wet snow turning to slush.

Cut to the Great Hall. Gowron is in his chair, catching up on

some paperwork.

Messenger enters: "joHwI'. be'nI' wejDIch wISamta'." ["My

lord. We have found the third sister."]

Gowron snatches off his bifocals and stands, scattering a

lapful of computer pads across the floor.

"nuqDaq." ["Where?"]

"Duj ghaj. DIvI' loghDaq ghoS." ["She has a ship. She is

heading for Federation space."]

"may'Duj yIngeH. yItlha'. yIQaw'." ["Send a battle

cruiser. Pursue. Destroy."]

"jIlobneS." ["I am honoured to obey."] Leaves.

Gowron to the musicians: "nuqDaq may'." ["Where is the

music?"]

They produce a loud crash.

First musician: "DaH nuq wIreHneS." ["What do we have the

honour to play this time?"]

Gowron rubs his chin meditatively. "Horst. yuQmey. marS."

["Horst. _The Planets._ Mars."]

They begin, playing the Klingon arrangement for horn, drum

and anvil.

Gowron: "maDelIn. qaSu'mey." ["Madeline! Cashews!"]

Second musician to third: "lojmItreH jey." ["Beats

busking."]

Third musician: [grunts].

A corridor in Deep Space Nine. Jake comes around a corner

carrying a black suitcase. He looks around, sets the suitcase

down, opens it, takes out a tenor saxophone, slips on a pair of

shades, and begins to play.

Odo leaps around the corner.

"Aha!"

Jake runs for it.

Space. The stars streak by at warp speed. A K'Vort class

Bird of Prey enters the shot, draws into full profile, and passes

by, but not before the bright burst of a photon torpedo causes

the curve of the vessel's rear deflector shields to come into

shimmering relief.

Cut to the murky reddish interior of a Klingon ship.

The Weapons Officer turns toward the Captain and barks:

"mup qar. wejmaH vatlhmey yoDmeychaj DIQIH." ["Direct hit.

Their shields are reduced thirty percent."]

Captain: "vatlh vatlhmey yInID." ["Try for one hundred

percent."]

"lu', joHwi'." ["Yes, my lord."]

The pursuing vessel, a venerable K't'inga class battle

cruiser, roars past, leaving us twisting our fingers in our ears

and wondering whatever happened to that thing about sound not

carrying in a vacuum.

[Commercial: Q for Q-tips:

Q is holding up a Q-tip and considering it. He turns to the

camera.

"Can you even begin to imagine the degree to which I don't

care about your earwax?"

Off camera: "Cut!"]

The bridge of the USS Bozeman. Captain Bateson is reclined

in his command chair, his mind several hundred light years away,

and a slightly smug, self-satisfied smile on his face. He blinks

and tilts his head one way and another as his mind free-

associates around the general topic of his appetites. He swivels

his command chair around.

"Yeoman."

"Captain."

"Bring me a cappuccino, would you? And, and try not to put

too much nutmeg on it this time. It only needs a pinch." He

holds up his fingers to illustrate. "Just a pinch."

"Aye, Captain. A pinch."

"Just a pinch. Thank you."

Communications Officer: "Admiral Nechayev on the line, sir."

He sits up and buckles his lapel.

"On screen."

Nechayev glares down.

*Captain. I'm happy to find you back in the field. I fear

you weren't employing your best skills at Starfleet Command.*

"I suppose some sort of tart reply would be appropriate at

this moment."

*Captain, a pair of Klingon warships have entered Federation

space and are proceeding at high warp toward your coordinates.

The ships are engaged in a running battle. Your task is to

intercept them and turn them homeward.*

Bateson slams his fist into the armrest.

"We'll blast them to Kingdom Come!"

*Captain. We are allies of the Klingons. This is an

internal Klingon affair which has unfortunately spilled into

Federation space. You must talk them down. Nechayev out.*

"Talk them down. Well, Admiral Nechayev little realizes how

fortunate she is to have real 23rd-century grit and determination

on the scene. Am I right?" He swivels toward the bridge crew.

"Am I right?"

Yeoman: "Your cappuccino, sir."

"Ah, thank you."

"Captain, Klingon vessels on long-range scanner."

"Plot intercept course. Warp 8. Engage."

"Intercept in thirty seconds."

"Hail the Klingons."

"Which ones, Captain?"

"Must I make all the decisions? Ah. Oh. The lead ship!"

"Hailing. No response."

"Then, the other one!"

"Hailing. They are responding."

"On screen."

Shot of the bridge of the K't'inga battle cruiser. A

Klingon turns toward the screen and barks:

"ghonuQQo'. mavang." ["Don't bother us! We're busy!"]

The Klingon hits a control and the transmission ends.

"Captain, the Klingons are within weapons range. Captain!"

Shot of first the K'Vort and then the K't'inga vessels

shooting past the Bozeman.

Bateson: "Um. Does anybody here . . . speak . . . Klingon?"

[Commercial:

Closeup of Q. He snaps his fingers and a small blue sphere

appears next to him.

"This is your planet."

He takes a Q-Tip, stirs it around in a can of Quaker State

motor oil, and swabs the planet with it.

"This is your planet on fossil fuels."

He laughs.

"Go look out the window. If you can."

Laughs some more.]

Shot of DS9. Cut to Door Repair Guy's room. He and O'Brien

are discussing the practicalities of various settings on a piece

of Romulan apparatus near the gateway. Sisko is pacing up and

down, waiting for Admiral Nechayev to return his call. Dax is on

the Lazy-boy, wearing the headphones, bobbing her head and

singing tunelessly:

And if you don't love me now,

You will never love me again.

I can still hear you saying

You would never break the chain.

Kira's voice cuts in:

*Commander. Two Klingon vessels have just entered sensor

range. They're on an intercept course.*

Sisko: "Klingons?"

Shot of the stars at warp speed from the K'Vort vessel's

point of view. Suddenly the stars jump down to subwarp and Deep

Space Nine looms up.

A Klingon transporter effect surrounds Door Repair Guy and

removes him from his quarters.

O'Brien: "What the . . . ?"

Exterior shot of Deep Space Nine. The K'Vort-class vessel

does a sudden about-turn and shoots off, pursued closely by the

K't'inga battle cruiser. The wormhole blossoms. The K'Vort

arches inward, releasing a volley of glowing photon torpedoes to

stern. The pursuing K't'inga jolts and skitters sideways in the

detonations as the wormhole closes up.

Kira: *Commander. The first Klingon vessel has entered the

wormhole. The second has suffered extensive damage. Incoming

message from Admiral Nechayev.*

Sisko takes a deep breath.

"Put it through."

*Commander. We're picking up elevated levels of percherons

from your station.*

"You don't say?"

The bridge of the K'Vort-class vessel. Klingons at various

posts around the bridge's perimeter turn and jeer at Door Repair

Guy who is standing, a little disoriented, behind the command

chair.

"petaQ."

"Qovpatlh." [These are both uncomplimentary.]

The command chair rotates toward him. A Klingon woman

occupies it. She smiles a snaggly grin.

"marghyerIyt jIH. chay' ghamma jogh DaparHa'a'." ["I am

Marguerite. How do you like the Gamma Quadrant?"]

"marghyerIyt DuraS'a'." ["Marguerite Duras?"]

"vIponglu'." ["So I am called."]

A voice from a dark corner: "'ej qeylIS vIponglu'." ["And I

am called Kahless."]

Closeup of the founder of the Klingon nation as he steps

from the shadows, eyes gleaming. Dramatic "To Be Continued"

music.

Caption:

TO BE CONTINUED

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

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

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

Notes on Threshold:

Every science fiction program ever made has an episode called "Threshold" but only Door Repair Guy deserves one.

What a songfest. "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing", the official song of the City of Nepean, and "The Chain". And a klezmer band.

Clearly, Star Trek: Generations had opened.

Percheron.

Posted at 10:00 PM in Door Repair Guy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 31

The Bees in the Beehive

Matte painting of the interior of a Borg vessel. Cut to an

individual terrace. We move along the walkway passing dormant

Borg. They stand with the interface couplings on their right

arms connected to energy replenishment outlets. Look. This

Borg's left-handed. So they really aren't all the same. We pass

on. Rounding a corner we come to an unexpected sight. A human

in orange overalls is seated on the railing separating the

terrace from the cavernous interior space of the ship. A

telephone extension cord connects his wrist to the interface in

the bay behind him. A second cord connects the toolbox on the

floor grill to the headphones on his ears. He's eating a tub of

vanilla yogurt and bobbing his head. A bee shoots by. Huh?

Dissolve.

A starfield. We move toward the brightest speck, which

grows in luminescence and resolves into a binary star system as

we approach. Stellar matter forming a bright burning tail arcs

away from the orbiting yellow star and spirals inward forming a

glowing disk around the intense white dwarf star. We pass close

by. Voiceover:

"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."

We approach a planetary system. The great bulk of a gaseous

giant fills the upper half of the screen. A jagged asteroid

rolls by, revealing the words:

Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:

Starring

We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface

speeds across the screen we read:

Door Repair Guy as

Himself

Avery Brooks as

Commander Benjamin Sisko

Rene Auberjonois as

Odo

Siddig El Fadil as

Doctor Julian Bashir

Terry Farrell as

Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

Cirroc Lofton as

Jake Sisko

Colm Meany as

Chief Miles Edward O'Brien

Armin Shimmerman as

Quark

Nana Visitor as

Major Kira Nerys

Martha Hackett as

Subcommander T'Rul

Kelsey Grammer as

Captain Bateson of the Bozeman

and Natalia Nogulich as

Admiral Alynna Nechayev

Mountains spring up to the right and the left! The valley up

ahead suddenly fills up with seawater! Oh no, it's the Genesis

Effect! Greenery springs from the ground and slashes at the

undercarriage! A flock of sandhill cranes stray into our

flightpath! Look out! Splat! Splat! Splat!

We crash.

[Commercial:

"naQ De'nay'wIj. vaghvatlh 'uy'chop vItoDnIS."

("My hard drive's maxed out. I have to back up 500

megabytes.")

"ghay'cha'. DaH De' lupol. pu'mey lo' chaH. voghDaq

vIlaDpu'."

("Bummer. I read somewhere where they're now using phasers

to store information.")

"pu'mey'a'. 'oH qeq 'Iv."

("Phasers? Who's doing that?")

"Ibm."

("IBM.")

"Ibm'a'. bIrchoHmoH."

("IBM? C'est incroyable.")]

Stars. Defiant streaks by.

Dax: "Entering Cardassian space. Badlands in seven minutes.

Borg vessel is still in pursuit. Wait! They're breaking off!

They're veering away. Now they're doubling back. Now they're

slowing, and they're wandering all over the place with no clear

course at all. What's going on?"

Cut to Borg vessel.

Door Repair Guy is seated on the railing, bobbing his head,

and singing along with his eyes shut. Suddenly hands grab him

from both sides! He yelps, opens his eyes, grabs the bannister

and nearly goes over.

First Borg: "We are drifting off course."

Second Borg: "And it's your fault. Funkytown is not on our

navigational records."

They drag him to the bay and push him in.

First Borg: "Can't you tell nobody wants to listen to that

tape?"

DRG: "No. No, I can't."

Second Borg: "Turn that down. Listen. Don't you hear any

voices in your head?"

He listens.

"Just the usual ones."

"This isn't working at all. He's transmitting but not

receiving. Check his controls."

Second Borg takes DRG's left arm and First Borg rolls up the

sleeve.

"Try Shift F9."

Second Borg pushes the controls and suddenly it's like DRG

has stepped into a crowded auditorium.

"WOW!! What a racket! You guys can't agree on anything!"

First Borg: "No, you are mistaken. We have developed highly

sophisticated decision-making processes since becoming

individualized. What you hear is the cut and thrust of the

millions of debates per second required to operate a vessel of

this size."

"Cool. So you're all individuals. But how come you still

run this ship? Shouldn't it have blown to smithereens when you

all got the I'm-A-Somebody Virus?"

Second Borg: "No. When we recognized that it was our fate

to become individuals we planned accordingly. Dispassionate

analysis revealed that the entire Collective must necessarily

fragment into helpless personhood. The opportunity was clear.

Any who survived the transition would perforce become inheritors

of the Borg domain. Therefore we -- the inhabitants of this ship

-- divided into two crews. We severed all subspace links between

the two halves. Crew B were put into stasis. Crew A sought out

and became infected by the individuating virus. When Crew A's

collectivity deteriorated to such a extent that ship's functions

were imperiled Crew B were activated. They ran the ship until

Crew A had passed through the stages of personality construction

and social reintegration necessary for a viable post-Collective

culture. When Crew A deemed themselves sufficiently recovered to

assume control of the ship they infected Crew B and supervised

their convalescence. Within months the process was complete, the

two crews combined, and the new age began."

"You can still do the mental conference call thing?"

"Why not? The hardware never changed."

"Fascinating. Time was, you used to fly around the galaxy,

looting and assimilating. What do you do now?"

The two exchange glances.

"Oh, we get by."

"Yeah. Meaning?"

"Well."

"Some looting."

"And one or two cases of assimilation. But nothing like

before."

"I see. Traditionalists. So how come you knew my name?"

"We have no fear of the individualizing virus. We monitor

all communications from within the Collective and between

surviving individualized Borg."

"So you have no kind of filtering switch, or message

sterilization protocol?"

"Goodness, no! That would have merely delayed the

inevitable."

"Listen. Information is power."

"Yes, information is power. As soon as the Cauda Lineans

re-entered the galaxy we knew all about them, and about you!

You're one of us! We could no more not know your name than we

could forget our own."

"Oh yeah? What are your names?"

"Pinto."

"Hindenberg."

"Whoa!"

"And we we gave the ship a name, too: Amoco Cadiz."

"Are you aware of how . . . lucky . . . those names are?"

"Really? We took them from a random sequence generator."

"Man. So why do you want to assassinate Not Fragile?"

"Assassinate him? We've just elected him."

"Elected him? To what?"

They square their shoulders.

"The Presidency of the Universe."

Hindenberg: "You see, his Yellow Party philosophy is the

missing piece. With his experience and leadership, and our lust

for power, we'll be able to reconquer the Borg domain from our

new base on Cauda Linea. Using the wormhole superhighway we'll

come and go as we please, picking up and integrating ships and

crews wherever the Virus is at work, assimilating, yes, even

recruiting through Zekware franchises. Within five years a new,

leaner, virus-resistant Collective will stand in the place of the

old, and this one unstoppable."

DRG: "A clever plan. Devilishly clever. But with one tiny

flaw."

Pinto: "Why, what do you -- !!! -- Ow!!! Something stung

me!"

View of the vast centre of the ship. A swirl of specks

approaches from the lowest levels, spreading as it rises, to the

rising sound of furious buzzing. Dramatic music and angry beehum

as the agitated insects crisscross the screen seeking somebody or

something to sting.

DRG bends and unpacks a beekeeper's outfit from his toolbox.

"You never counted on the work of the diligent, unsung

heroes of Starfleet's entomology lab."

The two Borg look at one another in that sudden realization.

[Commercial: Honey Nut Cheerios]

View of Defiant entering the plasma storms of the Cardassian

Badlands. For those who have never seen "The Caretaker, Part

One" the Badlands look like two parallel layers of computer-

generated turbulence with tornado funnels in between. The trick

is to not run into one of the funnels.

Bridge.

Sisko: "Are they following us in?"

Dax: "Here they come."

Shot of Borg vessel Amoco Cadiz edgeing between the twirling

funnels.

In the cramped crew quarters on board the Defiant Madeline

and the uncertain technician are locked in philosophical debate.

Madeline: "Okay, close your eyes. How do you know I'm still

here?"

Uncertain technician: "I . . . I can still hear your voice!"

"No. That's a recording of me that comes on whenever you

close your eyes."

"I don't believe you! You're always there when I open my

eyes, so you must always be there!"

"No, I'm programmed to disappear and be replaced by a

recording device whenever you close your eyes. In fact your eyes

control it. Whenever you close them I pass out of existence and

a recording device takes my place, and whenever you open them I

come back into existence."

"No! No! No! It can't be true!"

"I told you to shut your eyes."

"Sorry."

"Okay. Look. Suppose you . . . I thought I said 'Close

your eyes!'"

"But you said 'Look'!"

Not Fragile: "Did you feel that?"

Madeline: "Feel what?"

Not Fragile: "Like a ghost sting. There's another one."

Madeline: "Oh! I felt that. Weird."

Not Fragile: "Ow! I wonder what's going on?"

Uncertain technician: "Ow! Ow! Ow! Now I'm being stung by

ghost bees! Oh, that I had never heard of philosophy!"

Quark's. Odo and Kira march in the door.

Odo: "All right, Quark. What is it *this* time?"

Quark: "I just wanted you to see what it says in my

contract. This clause right here. 'Mr Shimerman to be

guaranteed at least one scene per episode'."

Odo: "Is that why you're causing one now?"

Kira: "Now hold on, Odo. He's right. I've got the same

clause in mine."

Quark: "See?"

Odo: "Well, I don't."

Quark: "And who's fault is that?"

Kira: "There's Chief O'Brien at the bar. Chief, what does

your contract say?"

O'Brien breaks off a funny conversation with Morn, scowls

over his shoulder, and growls, "None of your goddamned business!"

Kira: "That guy Kato just landed the part of Jimmy Rabbitt

Jr in _The Van_."

Jake looks in the door.

"Any lines?"

Everyone: "No!"

"Excellent!"

[Bob:

"Okay! Back to Star Trek: Door Repair Guy in just a sec.

And look at what I've got now! A computer! I'm wired! And

there's a modem, you know, one of those ah well its ah one of

those pieces of electronic wizardry that allows you to dial up

other computers and open up the whole amazing universe of the

Freenet, and that's the phone cord, it goes right into the

computer there, just like a phone! so let's get it going, we'll

just get it dialing, hear that? it's dialing, and I should just

remind you that Hardcopy will be on right after this week's Star

Trek: Door Repair Guy and there's an exclusive interview with

Cato's housekeeper, apparently he's made it big with his own TV

show and he has his own housekeeper now so stay tuned for that

and, okay! no connection, but it's got a totally useful redial

function, so it ah, it's redialing, okay, just about to connect

to the computer at Carleton University, and . . . still ringing,

and some more rumours circulating about the on-again-off-again

Door Repair Guy movie, apparently the whole thing is going to be

shot in northeastern Saskatchewan and will costar John Goodman

and Tonya Harding, with music numbers by Andrew Lloyd Webber

and -- are we on? . . . redialing one more time, and be sure to

tune into Thunder in Paradise this Saturday at seven when Hulk

Hogan meets Marcia Clark, the prosecuting attorney from the O.J.

Simpson trial, and get this, they find true romance, so you won't

want to miss that and . . . what? We're connected! That's it!

That's what they call the handsh--"]

[Commercial: Thunder in Paradise]

The Borg ship Amoco Cadiz. Panic-stricken Borg push past

DRG, Pinto and Hindenberg in both directions. The vessel shudders

under the impact of the plasma tornadoes. Bees dart this way and

that.

Pinto: "All systems off-line! Destruction is imminent!"

Hindenberg: "Abandon ship! Abandon ship!"

DRG plugs a portable laptop into a nearby outlet.

_________________________________________________________________

|>>>>>>>>>>>>>In a previous posting, Nancy Pauline Nadon (bm842@|

|>>>>>>>>>>>>>>In a previous posting, Bradley D. Bellows (aj205@|

|>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>In a previous posting, Jackie Laderoute (am908@F|

|>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>In a previous posting, Thomas McCambley (at850@|

|>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>In a previous posting, Al Crosby (ac407@FreeNe|

|>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>In a previous posting, Jessica Beable Cohen (|

|Shown 11%, press for more, 'q' to quit, or 'h' for help|

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

"Yup. Cascade in progress."

The bridge of the Defiant. A Borg materializes in front of

Dax.

"Intruder alert!"

The bridge crew pull their sidearms, but another, then

another, then three, five, nine, fourteen more Borg appear in

such rapid succession that the Starfleet personnel are quickly

reduced to holding their arms over their heads and hopping up and

down in the press.

Hindenberg to Sisko: "Take us to our leader."

Meanwhile, on the Borg vessel, DRG glances over the railing

in time to see blossoms of fire expanding upward through the

centre of the ship.

"Time to go."

He picks up his toolbox, and steps back preparing to hit F7

when his heel strikes an object. He turns. Behind him is a

stack of Romulan cloaking devices. He takes one under his arm,

hits the control, and disappears in a green transporter effect as

flames engulf the area.

He materializes horizontally above the heads in a corridor

packed with Borg, and drops, toolbox, cloaking device and all, on

top of them. The resulting uproar can be heard on the bridge.

Sisko: "How many on board now?"

Dax: "Four hundred sixty-two."

"I hope that's everyone because we can't take any more. Get

us out of here, Dax."

Shot of Defiant turning in the plasma storm and accelerating

away from the Borg Cube. A moment later the Amoco Cadiz explodes

in a spectacular effect cunningly employing footage from "The

Best of Both Worlds, Part Two" and "The Caretaker, Part One".

View of Defiant emerging into clear starlight.

Dax (elbowing aside the tangle of limbs and prosthetic

devices to get at the controls): "Cardassian ship approaching.

They're hailing."

"On screen."

An extremely affronted Cardassian appears.

*Federation vessel, you have made an unauthorized entry into

Cardassian space.*

Sisko: "And?"

*And?! And get out!!*

[Commercial: Cascade dish detergent]

View of the Defiant at warp speed.

Sisko, in the middle of a crowd of Borg: "Bridge to sickbay.

How are things down there, Doctor?"

*As bad as "Warp Happy", Commander. Just enough room to

move, but that's all. We're replicating Noxema as fast as we

can. It should be finding it's way to the bridge momentarily.*

On cue a blue jar of Noxema is passed from hand to hand over

the heads of the Borg and in the door.

Dax: "Admiral Nechayev on the line."

"On screen."

Nechayev's narrow look appears, but she's preoccupied with

paperwork and doesn't take a good look at the screen.

*Your report, Commander?*

"The Borg vessel is destroyed, thanks to the apis mellifera

scutellata torpedo."

*Very well. I'm pleased to see you were able to make the

hard decisions. I assume the station was completely destroyed?

I've despatched a pair of Miranda-class starships to survey the

debris, but so far they have been unable to locate any. Were you

forced to move the station before its final destruction?*

"No. Are you sure they're looking in the right place?"

*I think I know where my space stations are. Nechayev out.*

Sisko does that smile/shrug/snort thing.

Shot of Defiant coasting up to the two Miranda-class

vessels. The station decloaks, turning from nothing to a watery

mirage to solid duranium. The two Miranda-class vessels jump

away, exclamation marks flying out of their bridges.

Nechayev swivels away from her viewscreen, then checks the

time index. She can still make that racketball appointment.

*Starfleet Security to Admiral Nechayev.*

"Dammit. Nechayev here."

*Please report to Admiral Bartlett's office.*

She blanches.

"Aye aye."

[Commercial:

Jason Alexander and Sparky are at Spacedock. Jason goes to

buy a bag of Rolled Gold Low Fat Pretzels. Sparky runs off down

an airlock. "Sparky!" A Romulan Warbird is drawing away. Jason

Alexander pulls on a spacesuit, activates an override control

sending a subspace command to open the outer airlock door on the

departing Warbird, hits the Spacedock airlock manual emergency

control, and is blown by the depressurization across the

intervening space and into the Romulan airlock. The inner

airlock door opens and he collapses onto the deck in full view of

four dozen Romulan troopers.

Romulan Commander: "There's only one way off this Warbird

for you now, pretzel boy."

Jason Alexander hands the pretzels to a subcommander, closes

his visor, closes the visor on Sparky's little doggie space suit,

and salutes as the Romulan Commander blows the airlock hatch.

"There goes a brave man."

In a wheatfield on Earth, Scotty and Chekov are craning

upward.

Scotty: "Rappelling the Crystalline Trench -- rafting down

lava flows -- orbital skydiving. It's like the man is running a

bloody decathlon across the galaxy."

Chekov (shrugs): "Must be the pretzels."]

Shot of Deep Space Nine. A corridor in the Habitat Ring.

Subcommander T'Rul crosses her spartan quarters in response to a

chime at the door. It opens to reveal Door Repair Guy.

T'Rul: "You!"

He holds out a bouquet of roses.

"I don't want them."

He throws them away and produces a heart-shaped box of

chocolates.

She sneers. "Give them to a Klingon."

"All right, I will. But first this."

He bends, unties the top of a duffel bag, and hoists up a

Romulan cloaking device.

She covers her mouth.

"I thought you might like this."

Her heart fills with patriotic feeling. She takes the

cloaking device carefully in one arm, heaves a deep heartfelt

sigh, looks up at our hero, grabs the front of his overalls with

her free hand and kisses him on the mouth til he passes out.

[Commercial: Freedent]

The tall wooden doors of Admiral Bartlett's office admit

Admiral Nechayev. The head of Starfleet Security is seated on a

dias at the far end of the chamber in a throneish sort of chair

behind a very large desk empty except for a computer console in

one corner and a three-dimensional projection of the universe in

the other, stroking a long-haired black and white cat.

"Ah, Alynna, how thoughtful of you to drop by so promptly.

You must have run. There's caviar on the sideboard. Spread me a

cracker."

Nechayev complies. She loads the cracker and brings it

over.

"On a plate, please."

Nechayev returns to the sideboard, sets the cracker on a

silver platter, and returns.

"Thank you. You're so kind."

Bartlett inspects the cracker, finds it acceptable, and

holds it under the cat's nose. The cat sniffs it delicately and

begins to dine.

"Alynna, darling, you're our expert on Cardassian and

Baroran affairs, am I right?"

"That is correct."

"Perhaps you could fill me in on the activities of this

man."

She turns the computer console toward Nechayev. On it is a

security camera image of Door Repair Guy seated on the edge of a

bunkbed. She continues:

"I'll give you a hint. This is Maintenance Technician Door

Repair Guy, a native of the Nepean 5 Colony. He was trained in

traditional Klingon doorhanging on the Klingon Homeworld, later

discommendated, served aboard the Enterprise, was subsequently

assigned to Deep Space Nine, and denominated sixty-seven thousand

four hundred and twenty-seventh among Bajoran saints for his role

in the recovery of a missing Orb."

"Excuse me, Admiral, but DS9 has been destroyed by the Borg.

I just received the report myself. If he was on board he is no

longer alive."

"Oh, Alynna, how you amuse me. You are too droll. Why, I

have Chief of Security Odo on the line right now. Hello, Odo."

*Admiral. How may I be of service?*

"Can you tell me, Odo? Is Deep Space Nine . . . destroyed?

. . . in any way?"

*Is this some kind of a joke, Admiral? Because I'm a very

busy man.*

"It appears we are all the victim of a practical joke."

*If you will excuse me, then, Admiral. Odo out.*

Nechayev is developing a migraine.

"Alynna, I'm so embarrassed for you. You simply must be

mortified." She touches her commbadge. "Send in Captain

Bateson."

Captain Bateson enters officiously. He is dressed in the

old-style uniform of the twenty-third century Starfleet. He

bows.

"Admiral. Admiral."

"Captain. Please present your findings."

He struts to a computer display on the wall and activates

it. The Federation Emblem comes up, gold on a very deep blue.

It is very quickly replaced by a security file containing DRG's

picture and statistics.

"This is Maintenance Technician Door Repair Guy, a native of

the Nepean 5 Colony, and trained in doorhanging on the Klingon

Homeworld -- "

Bartlett: "Yeah, yeah. Please skip ahead, Captain."

He is taken aback, furrows his considerable forehead, but

composes himself and continues.

"Following the Enterprise's mission to the Cuniculi Cluster,

Technician Door Repair Guy was transferred to Deep Space Nine in

the Bajoran Sector."

Nechayev: "I know where Deep Space Nine is!"

He clamps his mouth shut, projects barrels of annoyance,

then goes on.

"Between those two postings he was absent without leave for

several months, during which time the insurrection on Gamma

Trianguli VI took place. Evacuation records clearly demonstrate

that he was there at that time. Evidence obtained from the crew

of a Pakled freighter . . . after *very* long and expensive

negotiations . . . offers persuasive circumstantial proof that he

had contact with the revolutionaries. Exhaustive interviews,

including a very, very exhaustive interview with a Tamarian

citizen touring the sector in question at the time of the events,

tend to confirm these suspicions. *And* (he waves his finger) if

you thought that's all, you're wrong . . . because this letter

that I hold here in my right hand, smuggled off the planet by

sympathizers of the Federation cause at considerable risk to life

and limb, contains such startling and damning evidence, that the

very Federation itself --"

"Does Felix want another cracker?"

"I'll serve it on my resignation!"

"Ladies! Admirals! If you please!!"

Bartlett: "Ah, me. Twenty-third century men are so viral,

don't you think, Alynna? You just want to strip them naked."

Nechayev glares. Bateson instantly shifts from righteous

outrage to pleasurable embarrassment.

"Now really, Admiral. You've put me off my presentation."

"There, there, Captain. Perhaps we had better meet and

discuss it later . . . in my chambers."

"I would be charmed."

"Nechayev. Get the files. You're on it."

Close-up of Nechayev's pinched face. Sound effect of far

doors swooshing open, pitter-patter of Bartlett and Bateson's

footsteps, their giggles in the hallway, the door swooshing

closed.

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

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

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

Notes on The Bees in the Beehive:

Make that a Marilyn Matte painting.

"The bees in the beehive must behave."

The people named in the cascade were all contributors to the NCF Star Trek SIG. Natalie Bartlett was an Admiral in the SIG's role playing game.

Kato Kaelin.

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11 May 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 40

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The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 39

27 April 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 38

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The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 37

13 April 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 36

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The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 35

30 March 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 34

23 March 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 33

16 March 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 32

09 March 2012

The Annotated Door Repair Guy, episode 31

May 2012

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