Friday, 27 June 2025

A Short Film about How All of Us Have Become Richard Nixon



".....but there is one difference 
between Us and Richard Nixon -- 
he told his psychiatrist that when he 
looked in The Mirror in The Morning
there was no-one there ....

.....when We look 
in The Mirror 
in The Morning

We think We're Too Fat."



Richard Nixon — Paranoia and Moral Panics

This is a film about how all of us have become Richard Nixon
just like him we have all become paranoid weirdos --

It's the story of how Television and Newspapers did this to Us and how it has paralysed the ability of Politics to transform the world for the better --

Once upon a time, politicians believed they could Change The World -- one of them was a Labour MP called Roy Jenkins 

"....an attitude of conservatism would be very unbecoming to The Labour Movement.... we exist to change Society...." 

In the 60s Jenkins radically reformed Britain -- he used His Power as Home Secretary to help get rid of laws against homosexuality, abortion and divorce, and oversaw the end of The Death Penalty --

The Press and much of The Public hated it; but he refused to bow down to the pressure -- because he was an elitist; 

He knew it was good for them. 


But then Richard Nixon came to power in America; 
He saw himself as An Outsider and he hated Elites 

He was convinced that many in the east coast establishment secretly ran America in their own interests : snooty academics, liberal foundations, film stars, Heads of Big Corporations and even The CIA --

In Nixon's mind they were all part of a hidden corrupt Network; and what's more, They were out to destroy him. 

So Nixon set up a covert operation to bug and smear all these enemies -- but in 1972 they got caught bugging the Democrats in the Watergate building Nixon tried to cover it up but he was exposed by The Washington Post as a result of Watergate investigative journalists in America and Britain became the heroes of the age in the' 70s they uncovered all sorts of bad people that's your words who often beat them up let's go but then the journalists began to uncover the strangest thing they found corruption in the heart of the elites who ran their country politicians and civil servants took bribes the security Services assassinated people illegally right policemen concocted evidence and sold drugs

 I'm here to look into the disturbing case of Mrs Joyce Brown 

and even senior doctors covered up terrible mistakes and as the journalists exposed all this they began to sound : like Richard Nixon. 

That there really were hidden conspiracies in the heart of The Establishment --

And then in an even stranger twist. the journalists found an unlikely Ally : Mrs Thatcher. 

Mrs Thatcher wanted to roll back the power of The State and to her, the professional Elites, the civil servants, lawyers, doctors and the broadcasters -- were all terrible Hypocrites. 

They talked loudly of public duty but secretly they were running things in their own interests so she spent the ' 80s attacking these groups as a threat to Britain helped by rert Murdoch who did tested elitism in Britain and America they hate to see someone communicating with the masses they feel that newspapers the written word is not for the masses that should be left to television or perhaps to nobody but there's a great sort of elitism 

But then in the 1990s the journalists became even more like Richard Nixon -- like him, they started to see hidden enemies everywhere; 

They were enthusiastically supported in this by some members of the middle class Elites : doctors psychiatrists and academics -- who reinvented themselves as experts -- who said that they too could identify dangers lurking just under the surface of our everyday lives that we couldn't see --

Experts uncovered hidden threats like sexual abuse pedophilia and even networks of satanic abuse on a vast scale doctor believes that many multiple personality patients were sexually abused by satanic cults other experts predicted hundreds of thousands would die from the epidemic of BSE cjd medical experts said that millions of people were going to die from different forms of animal flu doctors have discovered a new disease which they say shows a possible link between Autism and the routine childhood vaccine M others said that thousands of children were at risk of autism from the mm arger Terror experts said there was a global hidden network of sleeper cells that had the power to destroy Western society and then it got worse other experts said you couldn't even trust yourself your own body was an enemy obesity is now a disease of epidemic proportions just makes you paranoid you look at yourself in the mirror every day I think people just think I really want to look like that cuz it's just everywhere we're obsessed with food I've actually had my stomach stap and I'm on anti-depressants using all the best available science 

Thirty years ago, journalists bravely exposed the corruption of those in power, like Richard Nixon -- but now The News and Television programs have ended up taking serious Threats to Society and exaggerating and distorting them.

By doing this, They have created a widespread mood of fear in society and a suspicion of those who lead us and in the process millions of us have become exactly like Richard Nixon --  paranoid. 

And if any politician tried to do what Roy Jenkins did 40 years ago, to change Britain for The Better against public opinion 
We, and The Press would destroy them 

-- but there is one difference between Us and Richard Nixon -- he told his psychiatrist that when he looked in The Mirror in The Morning, there was no-one there ....

.....when We look in The Mirror in The Morning; 

We think We're Too Fat

Lemonade






He for whom nothing is written 
may write himself a clan. 

They are good for riding. Try. What are you doing, Englishman? As you see. Are you alone? Almost. Are you with those dogs drinking at my well? Yours? I am Auda Abu Tayi. I've heard of another man of that name. Other? What other? The Auda I'd heard of wouldn't need to summon help to look after his wells. He must be a great hero. He is. He wouldn't refuse water to men coming out of Nefud Desert. Now, would he not? No, that must be some other man. Here is my help. Son, what fashion is this? - Harith, Father. - What manner of Harith? A Beni Wejh sherif. And is he Harith? No, Father, English. Son... ...they are stealing our water. Tell them we are coming. Tell them. - Empty that! - Do not! It is Auda of the Howeitat who speaks. It is Ali of the Harith who answers. Harith. Ali. Does your father still steal? No. Does Auda take me for one of his own bastards? No. There is no resemblance. Alas, you resemble your father. - Auda flatters me. - You are easily flattered. I knew your father well. Did you know your own? We are you are two. How if we shot you down? Why, then you have a blood feud with the Howeitat. - Do you desire it? - Not the generals in Cairo... ...nor the sultan himself desire that. Call off your men. This honours the unworthy. I've only just begun to teach him. And what are you teaching him today? Howeitat hospitality? Be not clever with me, English. - Who is he? - A friend of Prince Feisal's. - So you desire my hospitality? - Yes. Is he your tongue? We do desire it. Then it is given, if you will take it. I'm at my summer camp, a poor place. Well, to me it seems a poor place. Some men find it marvellous. Tomorrow, maybe I will allow the Turks to buy you, friends of Feisal. But... ...dine with me. Dine with Auda, English. Dine with the Howeitat, Harith. It is my pleasure that you dine with me in Wadi Rumm! This thing you work against Aqaba... ...what profit do you hope from it? We work it for Feisal of Mecca. The Harith do not work for profit. Well, if it is in a man to be a servant, Sherif Ali... ...he could find worse masters than Feisal. But I... I cannot serve. You permit the Turks to stay in Aqaba. Yes, it is my pleasure. We do not work this thing for Feisal. No? - For the English, then? - For the Arabs. The Arabs? The Howeitat, Ageyil, Ruala, Beni Sahkr, these I know. I have even heard of the Harith. But the Arabs? What tribe is that? They're a tribe of slaves. They serve the Turks. Well, they are nothing to me. My tribe is the Howeitat. Who work only for profit. Who work at Auda's pleasure. 

And Auda's pleasure is to serve the Turks. 

Serve? I serve? 

It is The Servant 
who takes Money

I am Auda Abu Tayi.
Does Auda serve?

No!

Does Auda Abu Tayi serve?

No! 

I carry 23 great wounds, 
all got in battle. 

Seventy men have I killed with my own hands, in battle. 

I scatter, I burn 
my enemies tents. 
I take away their flocks and herds. The Turks pay me 
a golden treasure
yet I am poor

Because I am 
A River to 
My People. 

Is that service? 

No. 

And yet now it seems Auda has grown old. And lost his taste for fighting. It is well you say it in my tent, thou old tulip. Yet this is a tulip that the Turks could not buy. Why should they wish to? Now... I will tell you what they pay me, and you will tell me if this is... ...a servant's wages. They pay me, month by month... ... golden guineas. Auda. - Who told you that? - I have long ears. And a long tongue between them. what matters? It's a trifle. A trifle which they take from a great box they have. In Aqaba. - In Aqaba? - Where else? You trouble me like women. Friends, we've been foolish. Auda won't come to Aqaba. - For money? - No. - For Feisal? - No! Nor to drive away the Turks. He will come... ...because it is his pleasure. Thy mother mated with a scorpion. Make God your agent! Aqaba! Aqaba! God be with you. God be with you. God be with you. God be with you. Yes. Aqaba. Tomorrow we will go and get it. - Do you think we shall? - Yes. If you are right about the guns. He killed. He dies. This is the end of Aqaba. - One of our men murdered Auda's man. - Why? Theft? Blood feud? It makes no matter why. Ali! It is an ancient wound. I didn't come here to watch a tribal bloodbath. It is the law, Lawrence. The law says the man must die. If he dies, will that content the Howeitat? Yes. Sherif Ali! If none of Lord Auda's men harms any of yours... ...will that content the Harith? - Yes. Then I will execute the law. I have no tribe. And no one is offended. Gasim. Did you do it? Well, Lawrence... What ails the Englishman? That that he killed was the man he brought out of the Nefud. It was written, then. Better to have left him. It was execution, Lawrence. No shame in that. Besides, it was necessary. You gave life and you took it. The writing is still yours. Auda Abu Tayi! The miracle is accomplished. Garlands for the conqueror. Tribute for the prince. Flowers for the man. I'm none of those things, Ali. - What, then? - Don't know. Thanks. My God, I love this country. What! No gold in Aqaba! Auda, I found it! That's a pity. Ali, get a message down the coast to Yenbo. Tell Feisal to find boats, any boats... ...and bring the Arab army here to Aqaba, quickly. And you? I'm going to tell the generals... ...in Cairo. Yes, cross Sinai. Come on! Sinai? Yes. - With these? - They'll be all right with me. Look, Ali. If any of your Bedouin arrived in Cairo and said: "We've taken Aqaba," the generals would laugh. I see. In Cairo you will put off these funny clothes. You'll wear trousers and tell stories of our quaintness and barbarity... ...and then they will believe you. You're an ignorant man. Paper. Paper! There is no gold in Aqaba. No gold. No great box! Did Auda come to Aqaba for gold? For my pleasure, as you said. But gold is honorable... ...and Lawrence promised gold. Lawrence lied. See, Auda. "The Crown of England... ...promises to pay... ... golden guineas... ...to Auda Abu Tayi." Signed in His Majesty's absence... ...by... ...me. In days... ...I'll be back with the gold. With gold, with guns, with everything. Ten days. You'll cross Sinai? Why not? Moses did. And you will take the children? Moses did. Moses was a prophet... ...and beloved of God. He said there was gold here. He lied. He is not perfect.

Tuesday, 24 June 2025

The Dead ask The Best Questions

The Dead ask The Best Questions


Harry Perkins, Prime Minister :
-- one over there, probably 
has a telephoto lens.
....looking for evidence of 
a homosexual relationship


I don't know if this is the right moment 
but I wanted to talk to you about that --

Harry Perkins, Prime Minister :
...Darling, I never knew you cared


What I mean is, if Wapping or 
Fleet Street come looking for 
more dirt - ...is there any more?

Harry Perkins, Prime Minister :
Well, I can't speak for my colleagues but
my track record is pretty simple; 
Married at 20, Divorced at 31, 
no kids, no bitterness -- wife cited 
The Labor Movement as
correspondent -- and 
she were right.

Then, once upon a time, 
a brief encounter with a woman called
Helen
met her at a conference on economics
beat that for a romantic setting
and she married someone else
but she sent me a flower


....to Downing Street, 
after The Election,
remember --

Harry Perkins, Prime Minister :
So do I....

Now, I sublimate my sexual urges into
Changing Society and I've signed
 a letter from Dr Freud in Vienna 
to prove it --


Last time I was talking to 
Annette Newsome, she said 
"We'll get it right this time, 
won't we Harry."

...You ought to be moving 
it's Question Time 
in 40 minutes --

Harry Perkins, Prime Minister :
.....it's always bloody 
Question Time --
The Dead, They ask
 The Best Questions; and 
We are answerable --

Ralph









Mantis
If I touch someone, 
I can feel their feelings.

Peter Quill
You read minds?

Mantis :
Noooooo — Telepaths 
know thoughts;
Empaths feel feelings. Emotions.

Mantis
[to Peter]  May I?

Peter Quill
All right.

Mantis
[Mantis touches Peter's hand]  
You feel... love.

Peter Quill
Yeah. I guess, yeah, 
I feel a general, 
unselfish love for just 
about everybody...

Mantis
No! Romantic, sexual love.

Peter Quill : 
No. No, I don't.

Mantis : [points to Gamora]  
For HER!

Peter Quill : 
No, no. No, I don't.

Mantis : [points to Gamora]  
For HER!

Peter Quill : 
No! That is not...

[Drax starts laughing hysterically] 

Peter Quill : 
Okay... That's...

Drax : [still laughing]  
She just told everyone 
your deepest, darkest secret!

Peter Quill : 
Dude, come on, I think 
you're overreacting a little bit.

Drax : [still laughing]  
You must be SO embarrassed!

Drax : [to Mantis]  
Do me! Do me! Do me!

[Mantis touches Drax and 
she starts laughing hysterically] 

Mantis : 
I've never felt such humor!

Peter Quill : 
So unbelievably uncool.

Drax : 
Oh, Quill...

[Mantis walks over to Gamora to touch her] 

Gamora : 
Touch me, and the only thing 
you're gonna feel is a broken jaw.

Prey Posture

 




Girls get these messages 
about What GirlWorld Is
clearly from The Culture, right, I mean of course
they're you know reading magazines and
watching TV and yes there are images about girls 
that are really a problem absolutely —

— But what I think 
the missing piece is, is that 
girls take that information, those messages and 
they take those rules, 
and they are The Enforcers 
on a day-to-day basis and 
what girls do is that sometimes 
they don't know exactly 
what The Rules are, right?

I mean, in the movie,
there are scenes where 
you'll see girls say, 
“Well, These are The Rules, right?
You cannot wear 
this on Friday” 
and “You can't this 
on Monday


“…and you can only 
bring your hair in 
ponytail once a week —
So, I guess you picked today…

But for the most part,
 Girls don't really know 
what The Rules are
until they break them.

And when they break them,
they are very clear about 
what those Rules are —

From that, I really decided to go 
to the root causes of why girls 
were getting themselves vulnerable 
to really scary situations —

Y’know — WHY was it so important to 
have a boyfriendno matter 
how he treated you…?

WHY was it so important to 
put up with Your Friends, 
no matter how badly 
they treated you — 

Was there a connection 
between the two…? 

WHY is it so important —

Why do girls do this thing 
where they pretend that 
they're really fat or 
they're really stupid or 
they're not Good at things
when they know 
that they are — 

Why do girls on sort 
of the opposite end,
sort of front that they've 
got it all together and 
they've got their game on,
but in fact, they really 
don't think that at all —

What is that about? 

So I started an organisation that 
would really address all 
of those issues, and 
why it would make girls 
vulnerable to 
violence, actually —

And I also did it for boys as well,
and so that has metamorphosised, it's become The Empower Program.”

He Had Never felt Saner in His Life.


The etymological root of "anorexia"
just happens to be the Greek word
for "longing."


His mind at rest on the matter of his weight loss, Halleck neither weighed himself nor thought much about the matter for another four days . . . and then an embarrassing thing very nearly happened to him, in court and in front of Judge Hilmer Boynton, who had no more sense of humor than your average land turtle. It was stupid; the kind of thing you have bad dreams about when you’re a grade-school kid.

  Halleck stood to make a objection and his pants started to fall down.

  He got halfway up, felt them sliding relentlessly down his hips and buttocks, bagging at the knees, and he sat down very quickly. In one of those moments of almost total objectivity—the ones which come unbidden and which you would often just as soon have forgotten—Halleck realized that his movement must have looked like some sort of bizarre hop. William Halleck, attorney-at-law, does his Peter Rabbit riff. He felt a blush mount into his cheeks.

  “Is it an objection, Mr. Halleck, or a gas attack?”

  The spectators—mercifully few of them—tittered.

  “Nothing, your Honor,” Halleck muttered. “I . . . I changed my mind.”

  Boynton grunted. The proceedings droned on and Halleck sat sweating, wondering just how he was going to get up.

  The judge called a recess ten minutes later. Halleck sat at the defense table pretending to pore over a sheaf of papers. When the hearing room was mostly empty, he rose, hands stuffed into his suit coat pockets in a gesture he hoped looked casual. He was actually holding his trousers up through his pockets.

  He took off the suit coat in the privacy of a men’s room stall, hung it up, looked at his pants, and then took off his belt. His pants, still buttoned and zipped, slithered down to his ankles; his change made a muffled jingle as his pockets struck the tile. He sat down on the toilet, held the belt up like a scroll, and looked at it. He could read a story there which was more than unsettling. The belt had been a Father’s Day present two years ago from Linda. He held the belt up, reading it, and felt his heart speeding up to a frightened run.

  The deepest indentation in the Niques belt was just beyond the first hole. His daughter had bought it a little small, and Halleck remembered thinking at the time—ruefully—that it was perhaps forgivable optimism on her part. It had, nevertheless, been quite comfortable for a long while. It was only since he’d quit smoking that it got to be a bit hard to buckle the belt, even using the first hole.

  After he’d quit smoking . . . but before he’d hit the Gypsy woman.

  Now there were other indents in the belt : beyond the second hole . . . and the fourth . . . and the fifth . . . finally the sixth and last.

  Halleck saw with growing horror that each of the indents was lighter than the last. His belt told a truer, briefer story than Michael Houston had done. The weight loss was still going on, and it wasn’t slowing down; it was speeding up. He had gotten to the last hole in the Niques belt he’d believed only two months ago he would have to quietly retire as too small. Now he needed a seventh hole, which he didn’t have.

  He looked at his watch and saw he’d have to get back soon. But some things were more important than whether or not Judge Boynton decided to enter a will into probate.

  Halleck listened. The men’s room was quiet. He held up his pants with one hand and stepped out of the stall. He let his pants drop again and looked at himself in one of the mirrors over the row of sinks. He raised the tails of his shirt in order to get a better look at the belly which until just lately had been his bane.

  A small sound escaped his throat. That was all, but that was enough. The selective perception couldn’t hold up; it shattered all at once. He saw that the modest potbelly which had replaced his bay window was now gone. Although his pants were down and his shirt was pulled up over his unbuttoned vest, the facts were clear enough in spite of the ludicrous pose. Actual facts, as always, were negotiable—you learned that quickly in the lawyer business—but the metaphor which came was more than persuasive; it was undeniable. He looked like a kid dressed up in his father’s clothes. Halleck stood in disarray before the short row of sinks, thinking hysterically: Who’s got the Shinola? I’ve got to daub on a fake mustache!

  A gagging, rancid laughter rose in his throat at the sight of his pants bundled around his shoes and his black nylon socks climbing three-quarters of the way up his hairy calves. In that moment he suddenly, simply, believed . . . everything. The Gypsy had cursed him, yes, but it wasn’t cancer; cancer would have been too kind and too quick. It was something else, and the unfolding had only begun.

  A conductor’s voice shouted in his mind, Next stop, Anorexia Nervosa! All out for Anorexia Nervosa!

  The sounds rose in his throat, laughter that sounded like screams, or perhaps screams that sounded like laughter, and what did it really matter?

  Who can I tell! Can I tell Heidi? She’ll think I’m crazy.

  But Halleck had never felt saner in his life.


Preparing an Impersonation






The Wells-Fargo Agent on The Train resolutely refuses to comply and unlock The Safe —

The Wells Fargo Man :
Why?

The Legend, Jesse James :
Well, you ought to pray.
I'm gonna kill you —

(— just unlock the damn safe;)

The Wells Fargo Man :
Get at! You're gonna 
have to make me.


(— just unlock the GODDAMNED safe;)

The Legend, Jesse James :
Alright —

(Masked-Man No. 2 breaks first in this chicken-run, loses His Nerve and starts blabbing — )

Ed. : 
Don't shoot him! 
No, don't shoot him.

The Legend, Jesse James :
Don't tell me what 
I can and cannot Do, Ed.

 Round them up!

 


Chicago newspaper publishers made a great deal of The Blue Cut train robbery,
alleging that in no state but Missouri would The James Brothers be tolerated for 12 years.

 Hey.

 Can you keep a secret?

 It depends on what you're concealing.

 You afraid of the dark?

 No.

 You superstitious?

 I put... I put an acorn in the window to keep the lightning out.

 Kid, you must've crept up on cat's paws.

 I'll wager that's the first and last time you'll ever be caught off-guard.

 How old are you?

 Twenty.

 Except, well, I guess I won't really be 20 till...

 till January, so...

 I'm 19.

 Yeah, you feel older than that, though, don't you?

 Yeah, I do.

 Hey, Frank, you... You think the sheriff's out already?

 - More than likely. - Yeah.

 I had a real fine time tonight.

 - You think so? - Yup. Yeah.

 Hey, I wasn't just flapping my lips about my kid brother and me.

 What I figured was if you and Jesse could gauge our courage and our daring...

 you might just make us your regular sidekicks.

 Your courage and your daring.

 I about heard all I want to about sidekicks. You sound like your damn brother.

 Yeah. Well, I'll be square with you, it's Bob who put me up to it. He's...

 He's got plans for the James boys I can't even get the hang of.

 - They're that complicated. - Yeah?

 Well, you can just get shed of that idea.

 Because after tonight, there'll be no more shenanigans.

 You can jot that down in your little diary.

 September 7th, 1881, the James Gang robbed one last train at Blue Cut...
and gave up their nightriding for good.

 Wait.

 Well, how are you gonna make your living?

 Maybe I'll sell shoes.

 I can't believe I woke up this morning...

 wondering if my daddy would loan me his overcoat...

 and here it is just past midnight...

 I've already robbed a railroad train and I'm sitting in a rocking chair...

 chatting with none other than Jesse James.

 Yeah, it's a wonderful world.

 What's this?

 Oh, yeah.

 I was real agitated this morning, so I was wondering if I would know you or Frank...

 tell you all apart, and so I had this clipping that described you both.

 Want me to read it?

 Go on.

 Well... I gotta find it. Hold on.

 Here. Here.

 "Jesse James, the youngest, has a face as smooth and innocent as a schoolgirl.

 The blue eyes, very clear and penetrating, are never at rest.

His form is tall and graceful and capable of great endurance and great effort.

Jesse is lighthearted, reckless, and devil-may-care.

There's always a smile on his lips..." - All right, all right, all right.

 Well, yeah, then it just... Frank, Frank, Frank. That's nothing. And then...

 You know what I got right next to my bed?

 Is The Train Robbers, or, A Story of the James Boys by R.W. Stevens.

I mean, many's the night I stayed up with my eyes open and my mouth open just reading about your escapades in the Wide Awake Library.

 They're all lies, you know.

 Yeah, of course they are.

 You don't have to keep smoking that if it's making you bungey.

 Alexander Franklin James would be in Baltimore...

 when he would read of the assassination of Jesse James.

 He had spurned his younger brother for being peculiar and temperamental.

 But once he perceived that he would never see Jesse again...

 Frank would be wrought-up, perplexed, despondent.

 My brother and me are hardly on speaking terms these days.

 Well, I wasn't gonna mention it.

 Are you scared?

 No, I'm just surprised a little.

 They ain't as succulent as I like, the devil to clean...

 but if a man skins them and fries them in garlic and oil...

 mercy, them's good eating.

 Well, I never been that hungry.

 I give them names.

 Such as?

 Such as enemies.

 I give them names of enemies.

 Go tell Wood and Charley to get their gatherings together.

 All right.

 Me too?

 You can stay.

 All right.

 Hey.

 - What do you want, peckerwood? - Nothing.

 Except to say Jesse wants you two to gather your parts...

 get on your horses and get out of town.

 And me to stick around.

Well, whoa, I'm his cousin I'll have you know.
My mama's his daddy's sister.

 Is that how they described it to you, Wood?

 You better watch your tongue, young sapling.

 Why is it me who's gotta rattle his hocks out of town and not you, Bunny?

 Put your horns away. If I know Jess...

 there's some real nasty sad-suzie work's gotta be done...

 and Bob's the ninny that has to do it.

 Oh, yeah, I'm sure that's it, Charley.

 You only met him 12 hours ago. He doesn't even know your name.

 Wood! You tell your daddy I'll be in Kentucky in October.

 We can hunt some birds together.

 All right.

 So how come it's Bob who gets to stay?

Bob's gonna move my gear to a house down the street.

 See?

 - I don't mind. - Yeah, well.

 Sounds like an adventure.



They moved to 1017 Troost Avenue at night so that the neighbourhood couldn't get a good look at them or their belongings.

Then BOB thought Jesse would give him eight hours' sleep and a daydreaming goodbye.

But with a second day in the Thomas Howard house, BOB thought he might never go but might be brought in as a good-natured cousin to the boy and a gentleman helper to Zee.

He went everywhere with Jesse.

They made trips to the Topeka Exchange Saloon where Jesse could spend nearly 60 minutes sipping one glass of beer and still complain about feeling tipsy.

BOB would rarely vouchsafe his opinions as they talked.

If spoken to, he would fidget and grin.

If Jesse palavered with another person, Bob secretaried their dialogue, getting each inflection, reading every gesture and tic...
as if he wanted to compose a biography of The Outlaw...
or as if he were preparing an impersonation.

Yeah, Got That. Stop ‘droid-Splaining, Data





[Hotel room]

RIKER : 
There's also one other thing, 
A Diary with obviously made 
by Colonel Richey.

PICARD [OC]: 
Can you read it?

RIKER: 
Yes

“ I write this in the hope that it 
will someday be read by human eyes. 

I can only surmise at this point, 
but apparently our exploratory shuttle was contaminated by an alien life form which infected and killed all personnel except myself.

I awakened to find myself here in The Royale Hotelprecisely as described in The Novel I found in my room.

And for the last thirty eight years I have survived here. 

I have come to understand that the alien contaminators created this place for me out of some sense of guilt,  presuming that The Novel we had on board the shuttle about The Hotel Royale was in fact a guide to our preferred lifestyle and social habits. Obviouslythey thought this was The World from which I came.

I hold no malice toward my benefactors. 

They could not possibly know the hell they have put me through, for it was such a BADLY WRITTEN book, filled with endless cliché and shallow characters —

I shall welcome Death when it comes.”

RIKER [OC]: 
A bizarre incident 
just took place.

PICARD: 
The shoot-out between 
The Bellboy and Mickey D.

RIKER: 
Yes, and Mickey D 
just walked out the door
How did he DO that?

PICARD: 
It's on page 244.

RIKER: 
In The Novel. Right. 
How does it end?

PICARD: 
A bad love affair ends 
in a bloody shoot-out, 
The Hotel gets bought-
out, and Life goes on
such as it is.

RIKER: 
The Hotel gets bought
By whom?

PICARD: 
It isn't specific. It simply 
refers to foreign investors
Sale price, 12.5 Million 
United States Dollars.
They return Home, leaving the Assistant-Manager in charge.

RIKER: 
Captain, that's how 
we're getting out

We're BUYING 
this place.


DATA: 
Commander — these cubes 
are improperly-balanced
I believe their final resting position would be —

RIKER: 
Can you REPAIR them?

DATA
I believe so — (to the pit-boss
I will make another attempt.

(He gives The Dice a good squeeze to even them up)

DATA
Baby needs a new 
pair of shoes— (ROLL)