[MiSTied] 'The Greatest Gift of All,' part 3
bookw...@my-dejanews.com
[Mike and the bots enter the theater and sit down. The lights dim.]
>
> Hannah wrote later in her diary:
>
> When I arrive in Infirmary, Dr. Williams was
> waiting for me.
Mike [as Hannah]: Dad, you didn't have to wait up for me. I'm not a kid
anymore!
> I've always felt intimidated by that
> place. Rows of gleaming medical tables and boards
> and other apparatus that I couldn't possibly name.
Crow: Because the author is too lazy to make anything up.
Tom: What, you'd *rather* have technobabble?
Crow: No...but isn't there a happy medium?
Tom: Only in *good* stories.
> The place is *stuffed* with all the latest medical
> technology.
Mike: Along with basil, and thyme, and a hint of oregano...
> It's almost frightening! At any rate, Dr.
> Williams examined me,
Crow: Hey, this is getting better...
> but he couldn't find anything
> wrong.
Crow: I'll say. Rrrow!
Mike: Ah, Crow? Remember? Text environment?
Crow: Hey, you can dream, I can dream.
> Captain Saunders later told me that he'd sent
> me there because I was acting so strangely. That was
> probably some aftereffect of that last mind-whatever-
> it-was.
[All]: You tell--
Mike: Aw, forget it.
> Dr. Williams went with me to Conference Room B.
> All the top officers were there.
Mike: What about the bottom officers?
Tom: Or the charmed officers?
Crow: Huh?
Tom: Check your physics book.
> Talk about intimida-
> tion! For the first few minutes of the discussion be-
> tween Captain Saunders and me, the rest of them were
> just staring at me.
Crow: She had spinach in her teeth, smeared lipstick, *and* her slip was
showing. It was the social disaster of her life!
> I'll bet they were thinking,
> "How could an alien pass up the best officers in the
> fleet to
Tom: Make a pass at?
> talk to
Tom: Oh.
> a lowly yeoman?"
> When the captain asked me what the alien had shown
> me the second time he went into my mind, things really
> bogged down.
Mike: Talks between Yeoman Hannah and the officers of the _Stargazer_ broke
down today. Yeoman Hannah is quoted as saying, "Their demands
were unreasonable."
> So much of what I saw is indescribable.
> But I did sense that their life is easier than ours,
> with those mind powers of theirs. Their powers are
> also the reason their arms and hands have atrophied.
Crow: Oh, of course, that's understanda--Huh?
Tom [laughing]: Folks, I think we just pegged the goofy meter.
> But I also sensed that these powers are a fairly
> recent development,
Mike: Since 3:00 last Thursday afternoon.
> and there are still some things
> they cannot do, though I don't know what they are.
Crow: I can think of a few things...
[Mike lays a hand on Crow's shoulder.]
Crow: I was gonna say 'Play the piano.' Honest.
> The alien didn't show me that.
> I told them as much as I could,
Tom: Which, as she's already admitted, isn't much.
> and then the
> captain dismissed me, after telling me not to tell
> anyone.
Crow: So why are you disobeying orders by telling your diary?
> They probably wanted to be free to discuss
> this without me around.
Mike [as Saunders]: So...who do you like in the Lakers game?
> I'll probably have to go to
> more conferences in the future.
Tom: LPSC, GSA, AGU...
Crow: Huh?
Mike: He's channeling the author again. Pay him no mind.
> I get the feeling that
> not many people know what happened. No one's mentioned
> it to me.
Mike [as Hannah]: I want everyone's life to revolve around me!
> I guess it's for the best, but I do wish
> I could be famous right now!
Tom: One 'fifteen seconds of fame,' order up!
> Well, my shift's coming up,
Crow: She ate her shirt and is throwing it up now? Gross!
> so I'd better stop.
> I'll probably do a little painting afterwards. I
> wonder if I'll be able to paint *him*...
Mike: I'm Earl Scheib, and I'll paint any alien for $49.95.
>
> Hannah slipped into her studio,
Crow: She wished people would stop dropping banana peels by the door.
> locking the door behind
> her. She gathered up her brushes, put a blank white sheet
> of canvas on the stand, and dragged close her table full of
> paint tubes.
Tom [sarcastically]: Please, spare us no detail.
> She took up her palate and began squeezing
> colors onto it,
Crow: She took out the roof of her mouth and smeared paint on it? Double
gross!
> briefly wondering why she was doing that,
Mike: After all, that wouldn't let her paint. Not one bit.
> when she didn't even know what she was going to paint. Then
> her eyes unfocused,
Tom [as Menolly]: That's a nice concept. A dream eye unfocused.
> and her hand, of its own volition, took
> a brush, dipped it in some paint, and reached out to the
> canvas...
Tom: Manos: The Hand of Paint
Crow: The Painting Hand.
Mike: The Brain that Wouldn't Paint.
>
> Hannah blinked her
Crow: Turn signal?
> eyes
Crow: Oh.
> and sighed, shaking her head a
> little. She glanced at the digital cloak on the wall.
Tom: Gee, and I thought it would be a grandfather clock.
> It
> had been almost two hours since she had come in. Where had
> the time gone?
Mike [singing]: Where has all the ti-ime gone? Long t... that doesn't work,
does it?
Tom: No, it doesn't.
> Frowning, she looked at the canvas in front
> of her. Her eyes widened in dismay.
Crow: Then she squinted in datjune.
[Mike and Tom look at Crow.]
Crow: You're right. Dumb joke.
> "Oh, laws,"
Crow: Oh, rules.
Tom: Oh, statutes.
> she breathed. "Did I paint *that*?"
> Harsh, rude, clashing colors assailed her eyes.
[All]: Hikeeba!
> The
> paint was thick and clotted. Weird, unearthly shapes told
> her there was a method in all that madness.
Mike: Though this be painting, yet there be method in't.
> Hannah, almost automatically, glanced behind her at the
> door, to make sure there was no jeering witness there.
Crow: Oh, don't worry about that. Just get a grant from the NEA.
> She
> turned back to the stand, grabbed the still-wet canvas, and
> shoved it
Mike [singing]: Take this painting and shove it!
> in the back of a stack of her paintings. She
> turned its face to the wall,
Tom: You go stand in the corner, young painting!
> shamed at the thought of
> putting it with her paintings, but somehow, she couldn't
> destroy it.
Crow [as Ro-Man]: I cannot destroy it. Yet I must. Yet I cannot.
> She made sure it was completely hidden, and
> fled the studio.
Mike: Get out! The paintings are coming from inside the studio!
>
> June 6, 2243
Crow: That's some freshness date.
>
> Dear Diary,
> It's been two weeks since the alien came.
Tom [as Hannah]: But I'm sure he'll call. He's just been...busy. Yeah,
that's it. Busy.
> In
> that time, I've produced 42 paintings like that
> first one.
Tom: All exactly like the first one?
Mike: She's turned into a Xerox machine.
> No matter what I do, I can't seem to
> stop.
Crow [singing]: Can't stop this feeling I've got!
> There's a pounding in my blood and head.
Tom [as Hannah]: Hey, Hemo the Magnificent! Keep it down in there!
> The only way to stop it, for just a little while, is
> to paint. I can't even paint something of my own,
> the things I used to do.
Mike: Dogs playing poker...
Crow: Mike, this is the future, remember?
Mike: Right. Dogs playing Fizzbin.
Tom [whispering]: Fanboy.
> Once I enter my studio,
> *something* takes over.
Mike [as gangster]: We're taking over this painting joint, see?
> I spend most of my two free shifts painting,
> only stopping a little to eat. I can't even sleep
> anymore.
Crow: Let's see. 42 paintings in 2 weeks equals 3 paintings per day.
Assuming she has one 8-hour shift, that's 16 hours in which she can
paint, which works out to 5 hours and 20 minutes per painting. Yet she
produced her first painting in under 2 hours. What gives?
Mike: Crow, you're thinking too much. Stop it.
> The only rest I get is when I'm in those
> horrid trances.
Tom: I guess someone doesn't want you to SLEEEEP!!
> I think people are beginning to talk about all
> the time I spend in the studio.
Mike [as Hannah]: They're also sending miniature black helicopters to spy on
me.
> Mandy's asked me
> about it once or twice. I told her I'm working on
> something special,
Tom [as Bowman from '2010']: Something wonderful.
> but I'm not sure she believed me.
> I just hope the captain doesn't hear about this.
Crow: He hates special somethings.
> I've got to go back to the
Tom: Future?
> studio
Tom: Oh.
> now. The
> pounding's getting unbearable.
Mike: Why do construction workers always have to start work at 6 AM?
> I wish I could tell
> someone about this, but something's preventing me.
> I wish I knew what it was, and why.
Crow: And how.
Tom: And who.
Mike: And whence.
Tom: And wherefore.
Crow: And whither.
>
> Hannah slipped into her studio like a thief.
Tom: She jimmied open a window?
> She
> moaned a little, from pain, from frustration.
Crow: This has certainly taken a turn for the kinky.
> This time,
> instead of fighting, she willingly entered the half-dream
> that offered the only surease from the pounding in her body.
Mike: Yep, this is definitely an English paper.
> Her hands made the preparations by themselves.
Tom: Preheating the oven, mixing the cookie dough...
> Her eyes
> unfocused and she sighed, almost with relief, as the paint-
> filled brush reached out
Crow: ...and touched someone.
> to the canvas and the pounding
> began to ebb...
Mike [singing]: The ebb and the flow/ of the ocean tide...
>
> Hannah's eyes blinked, and she came back to reality.
Tom: Oh, I think we left reality behind a long time ago.
> She saw that she'd finished two paintings. Her forehead
> crinkled into a frown.
Mike: Whoa. She's turning into a Klingon.
> Usually, she didn't have time;
> usually, the alarm she set would interrupt her while she was
> in the middle of her second painting. How could she have
> finished two today?
> She started
Tom: Another painting? Sheesh, give it a rest!
> as the door swished open and Mandy walked
> in.
> "Hannah? It's almost time for your shift. I was...
> worried..." Her voice trailed off
Crow: Better wind her up again.
> as she saw the painting.
> "Oh, no," thought Hannah. "I forgot to lock the door
> and set the alarm! How could I have been so stupid?"
Tom: Because the author needed a way to get the plot moving again. Duh.
> Mandy's astonished eyes turned to Hannah,
Mike: Man, everyone's body parts have minds of their own in this story.
> asking
> questions, begging to be answered.
[All start whining like a litter of puppies.]
> "Maybe, this time, I could tell her." The thought made
> Hannah hopeful.
Crow: Hannah Hopeful? Sounds like a character in a morality play.
> She opened her mouth to tell Mandy about
> everything, all the fears and frustrations...
Tom: The trials and tribulations...
Mike: The senses and sensibilities...
> But then her nonchalant voice came out,
Crow: Her voice is gay?
> sounding as if
> it came from very far away.
Mike [as Obi-Wan]: Use the Force, Hannah.
> "Oh, is it? I must have forgotten to set my alarm.
Tom [as Hannah]: Or I hit the snooze button a few times.
> I
> sometimes lose track of time when I'm painting."
> Her hands busied themselves, cleaning brushes and
> palate, putting the unearthly paintings away, washing them-
> selves.
Crow: Going on a murderous rampage with a palette knife...
> "Thanks for reminding me."
> Hannah's heart sunk
Mike: You must sink Hannah's Heart.
> as she listened to and watched her-
> self.
Tom: ...on video.
Crow: They're really starved for new stuff for 'America's Funniest Home
Videos.'
> "Another wasted opportunity," she thought as she left
> the studio, Mandy following, still looking perplexed.
Mike [as Mandy]: Why does she keep wearing those colors? They look
*awful* on her.
>
> June 10, 2243
>
> Dear Diary,
> Things are becoming intolerable!
Tom [as Hannah]: I *must* write to my affiliate. How could they cancel 'Dr.
Quinn?!'
> I shall go
> mad soon if something isn't done!
Mike [singing]: They're coming to take me away, ha ha!
> The pounding
> has been getting worse the past couple of days. I
> can hardly concentrate on work anymore.
Crow [as Hannah]: Not with that cute boy sitting across the aisle from me.
> I spend all
> my free time
Mike: Playing Free Cell.
> in the studio now. I'm only writing
> this now because I took some time off to eat. I
> haven't eaten in two days!
Tom: Wow, that alien really *was* Jenny Craig.
> Mandy must have spread gossip around.
Mike: Can you pass me some of that gossip spread for my bagel?
> I'm sure
> everyone knows about the paintings. The last couple
> of times I've gone to the studio, the paintings
> weren't in the same order as before.
Crow: They're obviously being moved by all those rogue body parts floating
around.
> And people have
> been looking at me really strangely.
Mike [as Hannah]: And I'm *sure* they're putting fluoride in my drinking
water.
> I've got to go back to the studio. I don't know
> how much more of this I can take.
[All]: Neither do we!
> Somehow, it's got to end!
>
> Hannah strode toward her studio, seemingly oblivious to
> the side glances that followed her.
Tom: Cool, she's turned into Ed Wasser!
> She passed an open
> door, saw Mandy working inside,
Crow: That must be a big door.
> and stopped. She considered
> whether to ask Mandy if she had indeed
Mike: Eaten all the Fruzen-Gladje.
> told people about the
> paintings. Mandy looked up, saw Hannah, and quickly averted
> her eyes.
Tom [as Indiana Jones]: Mandy, don't look at the psycho!
> Hannah smiled grimly
Crow: Ed Grimly?
> and moved away. That was
> all the answer she needed.
Tom: Yes. I have my answer. I'm walking on air!
> Whether Mandy, if asked, would
> accept it or deny it made no difference.
> She jogged through the Engineering Bay
Crow: ...out the other side, and once around the ship. Just for the heck of
it.
> to the studio.
> The door opened in front of her, and she stepped back a bit
> in surprise.
Tom [as Hannah]: What the...that door always opened behind me before!
> Captain Saunders and a few other officers were
> inside, evidently waiting for her.
Mike [as Hannah]: Oh, how nice! They're...wait a minute. It's not my
birthday!
> "It's about time," she thought.
Crow: No kidding.
> "Well, yeoman? What is the meaning of these?"
Tom: It's the plural form of this, but that's not important right now.
> Saunders gestured toward some paintings they had pulled
> out of the stack.
Mike: Robert Stack? I didn't know he was a patron of the arts.
> "Before I answer that, Captain," she replied, "I'd like
> to make a formal request for my transfer,
Crow [as Hannah]: I've got a little tuxedo for it and everything.
> to be implemented
> as soon as possible."
> "Why?"
> Hannah's mouth twisted
Tom [singing]: Come on, body parts/ Let's do the Twist!
> into a half-smile of scorn.
> "I think you know, sir. As for your previous question,
> I--"
Mike: ...plead a fifth.
Crow: Don't you mean *the* Fifth?
Mike: No, *a* fifth. I'll need a drink after this story.
[Tom and Crow snicker.]
> Two things happened simultaneously to interrupt her.
> The alarm klaxon
Crow: Klax-on! [clap, clap] Klax-off! [clap, clap]
[Mike and Tom groan.]
> sounded, and the pounding in her body
> stopped. The cessation was like a thunderclap.
Mike: Alien mind control is like a storm raging inside you.
> "Him." Her voice came out like a growl.
Tom: Must be the end of March.
> "Who?" Saunders asked, though his face told her he knew
> the answer.
Crow: Just like in a Tex Avery cartoon.
> "The alien, of course. He's coming here."
Tom: Quick! Get the place cleaned up!
> Hannah's skin began to crawl
Mike: It wanted to get out of the story as unobtrusively as possible.
> as she walked over to the
> door and locked it into the open position.
> "What are you doing, yeoman?"
> Exasperated, the captain began advancing toward her,
> but she whirled on him.
Tom: Oh no! It's Tonya Harding!
> "I want everyone who wants to to
Mike: Everyone wants a tutu?
> see this." She ges-
> tured broadly
Crow: Hey, back at ya, Hannah!
> to include the studio, the paintings, the
> shimmering air that presaged the presence of the alien, and
> the open mistrust of the officers.
Mike: Now open 8:30 to 5:00.
> "One way or another, all
> of this is going to end!"
Crow: Please!
> The alien appeared.
Tom [bored]: Huzzah.
> Hannah was half expecting
Crow: She's half pregnant?
> him to immediately apologize,
> or give an explanation, or something to
Mike: ...clue the readers in.
> indicate that he was
> sorry. But all he did was say, "The paintings!" and fell
Crow [as Saunders]: Whoops. Guess we shouldn't have stacked the paintings
there.
> to
> studying them.
> "What is going on here?" Saunders looked from Hannah
> to the alien, and back to Hannah.
Mike: A tennis match, evidently.
> "He did it all,"
Tom [singing]: And he did it...his way!
> she said matter-of-factly. "He
> planted in me
Crow: I guess she *is* pregnant.
> the overwhelming desire and the ability to
> paint those things, and also prevented me from telling
Crow: Jerry Springer.
Mike: Women painters, and the alien mind-controllers who inspire them.
> anyone about them. What I want to know,"
Tom [as 'You Can't do That on Television' kids]: Now what I wanna know
is...
> and she moved
> closer to the alien and raised her voice to grab his atten-
> tion from the paintings, "is *why*?"
> The alien straightened up.
Crow: She must be his Posture Pal.
> "Because, even though our mind gifts are powerful,
Mike [as alien]: We haven't finished making the payments on them.
> we
> have not yet learned to use them to paint. At least, not
> with such wonderful detail."
Tom: Why not just watch that painter on PBS?
> He glanced back at the
> paintings with admiration. "When I sensed your ship, I made
> a routine sweep of the outer parts of your minds,
Mike [as alien]: Other minds are usually quite dusty.
> to learn a
> little about you. When I realized that you had hands, and
> when I sensed your artistic talent, Hannah,
Crow [as alien]: I laughed myself silly.
> I realized what
> an opportunity this was. So, I did as Hannah said. And
> now, I've come to take the paintings back with me.
Mike [as alien]: The divorce settlement entitles me to them, after all.
> They
> should, as you humans say, fetch a pretty penny."
Tom: Penny Marshall?
> "Ah, the truth finally comes out,"
Mike: Ye shall know the truth...
Crow: And the truth will be awfully goofy.
> Hannah shook her
> head in disgust. "I should have known that opportunism and
> greed were not unique to humans.
Tom: Thhhhuuuuu.
Crow [as Concord]: Message for you, sir.
> But why did you say you
> were giving me my greatest desire?"
> "I did."
> "What?"
Mike [as Hannah]: I thought my greatest desire was for Ben and Jerry's
Chocolate Fudge Ice Cream!
> Anger and astonishment welled up inside her.
Tom: Huh. Artesian emotions.
> "Do you think the alienation
Crow: Hey! Remember who you're talking to!
> of my friends and co-workers
> was my greatest desire?" She glanced toward the open door,
> where a crowd of people, including Mandy, was standing.
Tom [as Hannah]: Dang. No escape that way.
> "Or
> losing control over the one thing that gave me comfort?"
Crow: Yeah, I'll bet it's no fun to have a defective vibrator.
> "No, you misunderstand me. The greatest thing you want
> is appreciation,
Mike: She wants her stock values to rise?
> and whatever you may think of me, I and my
> people deeply appreciate these paintings. Come with me,
Tom [singing]: My-y love!
> and
> I'll show you. You could even stay with us, if you like,
> and do some more paintings."
> Hannah's mouth gaped open.
Mike: She's turned into a grouper now.
> She closed it and swol-
> lowed.
> "Get out of here." Her voice was thick with rage and
> sorrow.
Crow: And ketchup.
> "Take your paintings and go!"
> "Whatever you say." The paintings she had done under
> his influence
Tom: Ah, she committed a PUI.
> floated out of the stacks and arranged them-
> selves neatly in the air in front of the alien.
Mike [as alien]: How about a game of 52-Painting Pick-Up?
> He and they
> slowly faded away.
Crow: ...across the bay.
Mike: ...into the day.
> Hannah turned to the captain.
> "I'd still like that transfer, sir," she said, in a
> carefully neutral tone. She then turned on her heel
Tom: ...and revved it up, hoping to make a quick getaway.
> and
> walked to the door. The softly murmuring crowd opened a
> path for her, and she walked, with measured stride,
Mike [as Hannah]: One meter...one meter...dang, that one was only 0.9 meters.
> to her
> room.
>
> June 15, 2243
>
> Dear Diary,
> My transfer's been approved. The _Starfinder_
> will let me off
Crow [as Hannah]: ...with 3 years probation.
> at Altair IV, and from there I'll
> get a transport to Earth. I'm to work on an orbital
> communications base. I'm glad.
Mike [as Hannah]: Of course, it *is* called Mir II...
> I'll finally be
> able to use my skills in that field, and I'll be
> able to see a lot more of Earth than I did as a
> student at the Acadamy.
Tom: Well, considering you'll be in *orbit* rather than on the ground, I'll
*bet* you'll see more of Earth.
> I never had enough time then.
> In a way, I'm sad to be leaving. But I've had
> enough of adventure and unknown things to last a
> lifetime.
Crow: Sure, go back to a nice safe place just because of *one* bad experience.
Weenie.
> I can't paint anymore. The alien took away the
> desire and ability to paint his kind of art, but I've
> also lost the desire to paint my kind of art.
Mike [as Arthur Dent]: Just when I think I've figured out what is *my* kind of
art, and *my* kind of overdraft...
> Yes-
> terday, I went into the studio. All I could do was
> stare at the blank canvas and see
Tom: ...the faces of those I've wronged floating up before me.
> those other paint-
> ings. I can't even stand the paintings I did before
> this all started. I'm going to leave them there.
Crow: And thus, the first starship-based 'Starving Artists Sale' is born.
> The others can do what they like with them. But, I
> think I will take the one of the _Starfinder_. Some-
> how, I can't bear to leave that one behind, for I do
> love this ship.
Tom [as Shatner]: Now...I *know*...why theycallaship...*she*...
> Maybe, someday, when the wounds have healed a
> little, I'll be able to paint again. But for now,
> all I can do is hope and keep busy.
Mike: And now these three remain: faith, hope, and keeping busy...
Crow: You think this is why Pearl's doing this to us? To keep busy?
Mike [as he picks up Tom]: Could be. I just wish she'd learned needlepoint
instead.
[The lights come up, and they exit to the dining room. The table is now set
up for dessert and after-dinner drinks. They fall to and eat for a moment.]
Crow: Hey, Mike.
Mike: Yeah?
Crow: I did *not* understand that story.
Mike: Really? What sort of questions do you have?
Crow: Any question you can think of.
Mike: Oh. I don't suppose you could be a little more specific?
Crow: Nope.
Mike: Ah. Well, let's see. Plot-wise, it's essentially the story of a young
woman assigned to, presumably, a spaceship.
Tom: Though the author never actually *said* that it was a spaceship.
Mike: Right. Anyway, she meets an alien who uses his mind powers to force
her to paint a bunch of pictures during her strangely copious free time.
Just as her superior officers start an intervention for her, the alien
returns and takes the paintings away. The young woman transfers off
the ship.
Crow: Uh, huh...
Mike: As for the message of the story...well, we're told that she was
unappreciated at home. She gets appreciation from the alien and his
kind because of the paintings she was forced to do, but that appreciation
comes at the cost of the friendships she made, the trust of the officers,
and her own desire to paint. Got it?
Crow: No.
Tom: Mike, allow me. Crow, the message is: Be careful what you wish for--
you might get it.
Crow: Ooooohhhh. [beat] Then why didn't she *say* so?
Mike: She *did,* Crow. She--
[Waiter #2 walks up, bearing a phone.]
Mike: Never mind. [turns to waiter] What is it? Waiter #2: There is a phone
call for you, sir. Mike: A phone call? Who could it be? Crow: Could those
cops have traced us here? Mike: You mean they want to arrest me over the
phone? [assumes a macho pose] Could be, I'm a pretty dangerous dude
when I'm cornered. Tom: Oh, yeah, you go to pieces so fast that people get
hit by the shrapnel. Waiter #2: I am not personally acquainted with the metal
lady in question, sir-- Mike: Metal? Waiter #2: But I am told she has been
awaiting your return for a considerable number of millennia. It seems
you left here rather precipitously. Mike: Left here? But we've only just
arrived! Crow: Mike, remember what Observer said before? Mike: Huh? Oh...oh,
yeah! We've traveled in time, but not in space. That means...that means
it must be Gypsy! [He grabs the phone.] Gypsy! How're you doing? Gypsy
[over phone]: I think you ought to know I'm feeling very depressed. Mike:
Really? We're doing, well, okay. We have to read some awful posts again.
Great food, though. Where are you? Gypsy: "Reverse primary thrust, Gypsy."
That's all they ever say to me. "Open Airlock #3, Gypsy." "Gypsy, can you
pick up that piece of paper?" Mike: Uhh-- Gypsy: Can I pick up that
piece of paper? Here I am, brain the size of a planet-- and *no* arms--and
they ask me to pick up a piece of paper! Mike: Will you please tell us where
you are? Gypsy: In the carpark. Mike: The carpark? What're you doing there?
Gypsy: Parking cars, of course. What else does one do in a carpark? Mike:
Uh, right. [Waiter #2 and Bruno walk in.] Hang on, Gypsy. Waiter #2: It's
time for your last post, sir. It's a delicious dessert of an email
spam--about golf balls, I believe. Mike [whispering into phone]: We'll be
down there shortly, Gypsy. Bye! [He hangs up the phone and picks up
Tom.] We've got spam sign! Tom [as they leave the dining room]: Fore!
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[Continued in part 4]
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> talk to
Tom: Oh.
>
> Hannah blinked her
Crow: Turn signal?
> eyes
Crow: Oh.
> "Oh, laws,"
[All]: Hikeeba!
>
> June 6, 2243
Tom: Future?
> studio
Tom: Oh.
Crow: ...and touched someone.
Mike: Playing Free Cell.
[All]: Neither do we!
> Hannah smiled grimly
Crow: Ed Grimly?
Crow: No kidding.
Crow: Please!
> The alien appeared.
Tom [bored]: Huzzah.
> Hannah was half expecting
> "He did it all,"
Tom: Penny Marshall?
Tom: Huh. Artesian emotions.
Tom [singing]: My-y love!
Crow: And ketchup.
piece of paper? Here I am, brain the size of a planet--and *no* arms--and