Episode 1: December 25, 2014

A scrungy old neighborhood bar in Detroit barely hanging on by its fingertips financially with a half a dozen or so neighborhood people having a drink and talking about how boring life seems these days. All the kids got their faces buried in their god damn electronics all the time and the skinny gawky fourteen year old black girl looks up from her computer and gives them a 'little do you old farts know about any of this stuff' look and goes back to her book report and from her school books and notes she's doing her home work and her daddy owns the place and they have an apartment upstairs and own the building, which is why that bar can actually stay in enough business to continue putting a roof over their heads. This is not a rich family and it's just the guy and his kid and she's studying and listening to the adults talk about what's wrong with the kids today with their faces always buried in those boxes and don't they ever get out and have any fun anymore? Kid looks long and hard at the lady running her mouth, but chasing her daddy's customers out is not a good thing to do, and she damn well knows it too. If the bar had more customers, she'd damn well give that lady talking out her ass a piece of her mind, but no, just be cool, Jessica, don't go stirring up no trouble and she pulls her American Civic's homework out and starts reading.

"What they got you studying now, little girl?"

"About a bunch of crackers fighting to keep people like us niggers, daddy."

"Child!"

"Well, I'm supposed to do a book report or something in our video class about this shit and I ain't got nothing good to say about any of them and Miss Tomlinson wants us to write some kind of short story or film treatment, and I sure don' t know nothing about that."

"You think that's something you'd like to be doing for the rest of your life? I see you watching all those old shows and I was wondering about what you saw in them old shows you're always looking at. What's up with that Rochester and Jack Benny kick you been on so hot these last few weeks? All I see you do at night is watch that old stuff. I mean, seriously, Jessica. Rochester and Buckwheat and Amos N' Andy. What do you see in them old Steppin Fetchet characters?"

"Whose Steppen Fetchit?"

"Oh, another long ago colored comedian. Should have heard Wilson. That guy could have really made it, I think. Had a hell of a role on the show. Played the cook in the Confederate Solider Rescue commercial. Still wearing his old Army stuff and still had his tag on. Said it didn't matter, did it? Unit director said.

"Hey, so he's Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Meanest Menace, let him be, he's got good instincts for a line and that ad lib to that crack about 'you really dumb enough to shoot the cook before he cooks you dinner? Man, no wonder you stupid crackers lost the war!' That line just about made me laugh out loud literally, but I sucked it up Buttercup and didn't blow the take. Hell of a nice piece of work. Gives me a thrill even today, he just flat out nailed that role and mean as a snake most of the time in real life, course, that was only when he had to be, real gentleman, too. Glad to shine his size nineteens any day of the week, man was a credit to his race, I tell you."

"You're funny sometimes, daddy."

"Only sometimes? You forget your dad is a certified graduate of clown college? Of course I better damn well be funny, you don't be getting no laughs, it's kind of the kiss of death in that business, baby girl."

She gives him a shy 'wearing braces' smile and he goes down to pull another beer out of the tap. This is the Reality Bar and Grill on Christmas Day, 2014. It's a sad little bar with a few neighborhood regulars that come down to bitch and moan and hang out together and it's basically a place where these mid forties to mid fifties, some even older than that drop in once in a while and the camera walks around the room and looks at stuff in the bar and nothing is happening in this place except the muttering and conversations typical of such places and as far as 'dead' goes, this place is pretty much a dying bar in a dying town and the guy tending bar is hoping to get his kid started out okay in life and she's sitting her ass down and doing her home work and looking thing up on the net and making notes and finally closes her notebook computer and looks at her notes. The guy comes back down to the end of the bar where the last stool is next to the wall and beyond that is the hallway to the rest rooms as is made clear as someone comes down the hall and says Hi Jessica and she looks up and says hi back. She's not a babe, she's a gawky girl with braces and big circular gold rimmed glasses and she's really pretty much a geek kind of kid. So her dad asks if she's figured out what she's going to do about this homework assignment that he's not really sure about exactly what it is that her teachers are expecting from her. She says she's going to look up missing Confederate troops who served out on the frontier. He was there, he should be able to help her figure this out, right? Guy looks at his kid.

"You sure you're really ready to be hearing that story."

She looks at him.

"Yes, daddy."

He looks at her and thinks for a minute.

"You sure now?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, let me go get a drink, I don't think I want to be talking about this without a drink in my hand, okay."

She nods. He goes down to the back bar and reaches way back under the counter and up comes a bottle of Boris. He looks at a minute, sighs, gets down a shot glass, considers it, goes.

"Hell, no, I might have been young and stupid at one time, but let's not go pissing this one away. Last bottle of Boris in the entire world, and I'm not going to be cheapening up with your sorry assed excuse for a glass."

So he goes back and opens a drawer and pulls a box out of it and wanders back down to the end of the bar and there is a stool on his side of the bar and he sits on it and looks at the box, looks at the bottle, looks at his daughter, who's got a really intensely interested look on her face and up atop the bar is something of a curiosity to see in an old mirror back bar room bar. The walls in this place are all made of blue mirrors from table height up. You look across the tables in the place and most of the wall tables have this blue mirror stuff on them that might have been the cat's pajama's in the thirties, but that was eighty five freaking years ago and it's passed into passé along with the Mighty Wurlitzer with the bubble tubes sitting over there unplugged gathering dust. Sometimes you have to really put the scene in context and this kid doing homework in this dreary bar on this particular night seems even more sad because it's Christmas. The art work on the walls has been looked at as the camera wandered around and Unit Taffy 3 people stare out of old pictures and there sure was a lot of people in this group of people, and they are all wearing T shirts and grinning like they had just gotten away with something. There is a picture hanging up on the wall at the end of the bar of Jack and this blond. Actually Jack and a whole lot of blondes, but this group of four people are two guys and two girls and another woman in the middle and they all have their arms around each other an.

"Jack and the Clones and the Real Deal', hugs and kisses, Unit Taffy 3, Detroit. World Game Detroit, January 3-September 15th, 2015. Time Travelers Local 1, Detroit Michigan, Detroit 2015, and the Crew of the City of Detroit, say hi. The guy takes it down where it's hung forever and wipes it off.

"Baby girl, I told you I'd tell you this story about this photo when the time was right, and I guess it being Christmas day and all, there ain't much I can get out of doing here about putting you off about telling Unit Stories. I know you always wondered about what's a guy like me doing in a silly bar polishing glasses and serving beer to a bunch of people who don't have anywhere else to go, but this is some serious shit here and it being pretty close to kick off time, i might as well tell you about how it came to be that I got this job laid on me. You know I'm not from around here, originally, right? Just a few too many stories that didn't add up, and you don't have to go lying to me, I can pretty much see that you figured out there is a bit of stuff I'm pretty reluctant to talk about with you about. I know this old Unit stuff I keep hanging on the walls don't mean anything to you, and it's just a bunch of old photos with all this silly 2015 stuff put on them, but this is what it is, child, and I don't really know how to tell you this, but the fact is, I was born on the City of Detroit, which isn't in Detroit: It's a ship named after this City. You'll be seeing some of these people when they get here, but you don't go mentioning I mentioned that fact to you, okay? Simply because none of those people need to be hearing about that ship pulling in. It'll get here when it gets here, but it's all about to begin again and I should start telling you about some of the shit that's about to go down around this dive bar out in the middle of nowhere in this Rust Belt sad assed excuse for a town. And with that choice bit of Zen mysticism, I should explain how these pictures happen to be hanging in this bar just happen to have all these dates out of the future on them. You see, I'm the Unit Taffy 3 advance man."

Kid looks at her dad, dad sighs heavily. Picks up the bottle and cracks the seal on it. Then he opens up this velvet covered box and reaches in and out of the thing come a big huge goblet that looks like a king should be willing to pay for what it cost, but not what you see on sale at Walmart. He picks up the Bottle of Boris and smiles at it. Kid is looking at her old man kind of differently. Her dad is a bar tender and they simply don't drink during working hours and this is a huge and very expensive looking glass. He picks up the bottle of booze that nobody has ever seen before, but knew he was keeping for a special occasion, but other than his daughter, nobody noticed him getting out the box and the bottle as they were all busy talking about something else and he's just dialed them out and its he and his kid and he's about to open up to her about something. He picks up the bottle and takes a drink and savers it, rolls it around on his tongue and smiles blissfully at the taste and finally after a couple of more really sensual passes over the palette, down the hatch it goes. He grabs a couple of shot glasses and pours them both full and picks up one and hands it across the bar to his kid and she looks at it and her dad pick up his, and looks at it and seems like this is a 'vodka ad moment' but the damn glass has highlights and points of light radiating in big star burst ad age special picture quality to sell booze highly polished odd way. The two look at each other, the old man raises his voice and says.

"Taffy 3, Taffy 3, the only cross time unit that never would be, good old taffy three, taffy three, only cross time unit that ever went free was good old taffy three, taffy three, only cross time unit that never would be, is good old taffy three. Down the hatch kiddo, one big go."

And he slams it back and shakes. Whoo wee! Hey, any of your asses want a drink of the really good stuff? It being Christmas and all, what the hell, Taffy 3 be coming to town, I guess I can pop for a few rounds and it won't break the bank. Drinks are officially on the house for the rest of the night and get your asses down here, I'm about to tell my kid war stories about the Unit, so the rest of you pecker heads listen up. Anyone of you who can identify who this lady is? The one right there?"

"Yeah, she's the one on the left's non identical twin, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean."

"Well, she's actually Paris Hilton. For real. And she's going to be coming in this bar one night and you don't be getting in her face or I'll eighty six your ass, you hear? You need some bullshit excuse to go trying and be putting your hand in her pocket, you die a fool. Jessica, go get down the rest of the pictures from the wall. Take your time and get them all, okay? I got to go get me some stuff out of the cellar, so when you get them, give me a hand behind the bar handing stuff up, okay."

'Sure daddy.' And off down the wall she goes, and these guys in the photos are all grinning like they won the Irish Sweepstakes or the Lotto of all Lotto prizes and she'd wondered about them for years. She puts the pictures on the bar and they start looking at them and someone picks up a bar napkin and dips a bit of water out of a glass and wipes them and everyone goes, 'I always wondered about those dates on those thing, but some stupid thing Earl was always saying he'd tell us those stories about those old days when the time is right and I guess he better be getting his ass on the ball, it's only a week away until January 3."

Actually it is six days, but that doesn't really matter that much, it's December 25, 2015, and old Earl is about to tell his friends about those pictures. The kid is behind the bar and passing things up from down in the trap door cellar where he keeps his booze in boxes and the kid can see her old man pulling boxes out of the way and hauling out boxes of stuff and some he'd shove aside after checking tags on them and man, where the hell did he ever come up with this stuff? Anvil road cases with combination locks and old guitar case with labels from all over hell and creation and finally he find a box with silver looks like cell phone and he spends some time looking through them for one that works, but all the batteries are dead in them.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, right, Jessica, I ain't got time for this shit. Only god damn time traveler in this town and I simply don't have time for this looking around shit. Fuck it, it's Christmas and I ain't got fucking time for this shit."

he mutters as he looks through this collection of junk down there under the bar. The scene jumps down to his level and there is a few boxes of booze that are sitting on their side and behind that is a whole hell of a lot of stuff that sure as hell shouldn't be down there! A truck? A truck with some kind of cannon made out of this big huge enough to take a person cannon tube is laying next to the dusty old weird looking vehicle with Klown Kops Need Payola Too! Jack for Governor! sticker pasted on it with Jack for King of the Klowns! also being on the plank bumpers on this odd little V 8 powered hot rod down under the bar's floor. There is even an old red Kelvinator refrigerator down there lying on the dirt floor behind the odd little car that seems more dune buggy meets Barnum and Bailey school of hot rodding. The bar tender looks out at this stuff sitting out there on the dirt floor in the basement under his bar and something isn't right here, but since you already know this place isn't actually in existence, we're just talking story here and dig the systematic visuals being offered.

"Daddy? Mrs. Fletcher is asking for another drink."

Okay, this searching for stuff ain't going too well.

"Just hand her the bottle and wish her Merry Christmas pumpkin."

"The whole bottle."

Like the old man has flipped out: A bartender giving away booze is an ex bartender pretty damn quickly out of business. Her daddy sells the stuff and he's often said how sad it was she didn't have nothing to do with her crummy life but sit down at his bar and get half way loaded each night, and sometimes he'd had to actually walk her home, which isn't any big deal, she lives a half a block away and snow and ice doesn't stop her, but when it gets really treacherous out, Earl always walks her home to make sure she always makes it home okay and that's just the way her daddy is, always looking out for people, but handing out a full bottle of Stoli to the old lush? And what did you get me for Christmas? Not been a very good year and her daddy going stupid on her over Christmas? She'd seen her before on other holidays and a bigger loser she's never seen before, sure lucky her dead husband worked at Fisher Body all those years and she's sitting fat dumb and happy on his pension, only she ain't all that happy. Okay, her old man is going soft in the head, but as long as he's going to be explaining about how come all those old photographs hanging on the walls of all those mostly white people is so big a deal to her old man, so the kid gets the bottle and hands it over to the lady and mutters.

"Daddy said Merry Christmas Mrs Fletcher."

And the lady says thanks and is very surprised. Earl gets out of the cellar and has a box of the silver phones and another box sits inside of that box of phones. He seems pretty please with himself for some reason. He looks across the bar, sees people passing the framed pictures around and sees the ornate frame with nothing in it and smiles and picks it up. Everyone is commenting on the old pictures and where they are from and now they are looking at Earl all sitting along the bar and this is getting interesting. Earl smiles at them, then picks up the bottle of Boris and pour the big expensive goblet full of the savored stuff. He's going to really just drink all that booze that he'd made such a gigantic deal out of saving for the 'right occasion.' This seems to be it and everyone has their glasses full and Earl pulls down more shot glasses and with the very last of the bottle, fills the last glass and pass them out to all the people there, including his kid.

"All right, I promised you some day I'd explain all those pictures and since it's the last Christmas and all before 2015, I guess this is the right time for Boris, so, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a toast to Unit Taffy 3, named after the most ungodly odds any American task force ever had to face and how the hell they ever got away with what they did, I'll never know, but they did. Taffy 3 faced really bad odds and pulled the Army's chestnuts out of the fire that day and pretty much saved the United States from a huge defeat. You people will be meeting people from Taffy 3 this year and this old bar ain't going to be open at this time next year, so this is kind of my way of saying good bye to the old times we shared and hello to the new times we'll be all sharing and having a whole hell of a lot more fun doing than we've all been doing so far this year. Taffy 3."

And he raises his magnificent worth a fortune looking fancy goblet and starts drinking it down like it was water and even in the middle of sipping this extra special bottle of carefully never opened booze, which they are savoring, Earl is just calmly chugging away and when he reaches the bottom, he stops and lowers his glass and sets it down with a smile and everyone sipping on this stuff is simply stunned that this black bartender everyone knew didn't drink has just chug a lugged over half a fifth and this is a bit of slightly dropped jaws. Earl smiles and say, 'Bet you never saw me chug one down like that before, eh? Come on, drink up, I'm going to do a magic trick or two to get worked up a little, so drink up."

"Man, I think I already saw your first magic trick Earl, You still standing after that bit of stupidity."

'Bill, no, you haven't seen magic yet. I had a customer one time who'd go through forty or fifty cases of that stuff a night. Bought a hell of a lot of rounds for the house, but forty or fifty bottles? No, forty or fifty cases of this stuff Your thinking that only a fool would buy so much booze and just give it away, but he also went through cases of gin, box cars full of beer and as a matter of fact, the guy threw a five day party right here in this city we're standing in right now and if you didn't have money, you got to eat, drink whatever you wanted, it was on the house."

These folks are looking at this guy flat out 'what the hell are you talking about fool?' This guy runs a barely hanging on bar in a town with dying industry and no jobs and he's passing out bottles of booze? He grins back at them. As far as 'sizing up an audience' goes, this guy knows he's got them in the palm of his hand and as long as he wants to talk, they are more than into sitting right there and drinking his booze and everyone's covered, so let's here this story of yours Earl. He gives a little hee hee' laugh and then stands up. This is a guy who has seen some shit in his time, but they haven't ever seen this guy like this before. He's just radiating 'I know something that you guys don't' and they are hooked. You could shut off the booze and they'd still sit there and listen and he knows it too. The photos on the wall are finally going to be talked about? Okay, they're damn good and well hooked and he winks at his kid, who's slightly awed by this side of her dad she's never seen before.

He pick up a cell phone from out of the box and goes, 'Here, Merry Christmas. Gang, meet cell phone X. Just say whatever you want to, just go down the row and say who you are and the cell phone X will pick it up and figure out who you are. I said I'd do a magic trick for you guys tonight, and I plan on doing just that."

They look at each other, okay, this is a trick, sure, we'll humor him, and having decided to humor the guy with these odd phones with the funny kind of back, that has this sort of X on it, but it's more like the X is made of four points coming together in the middle. Earl pulls the next box out of the box of dusty cell phones and passes over a bar rag to people can clean the dirt off of their phones.

"Why you been keeping these things downstair, Earl."

"They don't work."

"Why on earth you keeping a bunch of funny looking phones that don't work, Earl."

"Well, Unit Pixie 3 shut down the service when the City of Detroit left. Couldn't do Mirror World without their tech, you see what I'm saying? These phones worked off their system. You can't do this kind of stuff without having some serious quantum computer around and they didn't have any way of getting here until Little Timmy showed up."

"Who's Little Timmy."

"Ah, right to the heart of the matter. I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth. I saw Left Coast Tim open him on up over there right in that corner of the bar one night, well, it was actually seven AM and I'd just gotten breakfast going on and his buddy Skyrock finally showed up with the parts. Morning we had the place shot up by Mrs Lumbai. She just gunned the shit out of the place shooting at a set of full up assassin swarm. Blew the hell out of the place, but damned if she didn't really knock down five hundred of the fucking things going at them full auto and she never shot a single person in the place, but blew the hell out of that whole corner. You could see the sidewalk from in here, and old Jack there, the one with Ms. Hilton, never ever even turned a hair. Every single stunt guy in the place about shit when the gag lit off, but everyone stayed in character and never even blinked. They all thought it was some super magic, but little did they really know. About shit when they read up on what had been flying around in here that morning, but with shooting like that, damn! She shore as hell won the Miss Detroit flat out hands down that morning, but nobody has ever shot down four hundred assassins, much less taken out a score of five hundred and her little counter says she shot five hundred and two rounds, but they think she shot two that were taking ricochets and might have wound up planting someone. God damnedest gun fight I ever saw, but I don't know if what she was shooting that day was really a gun or not."

He thinks about it.

"Oh well, kind of an odd weapon, produced projectiles, but not 'out of the barrel' kind of projectiles. Looked like a bunch of spikes sticking out through her skin, kind of way odd gun, if that's what it really was. Packed about a twenty millimeter cannon shell impact, I'd say, and this self important little general comes through the double doors there and sniffs, kind of, like the old Reality Bar and Grille wasn't good enough for his Paper Pushing Pentagon ass. Thought that ol Jack was going to reenlist in the army, not knowing that Jack simply didn't have time to fuck around with his low level ass. Jack called up Barry and Mickey, Boris called up his people, Paris Hilton was there at that meeting and I went along as a secret secret service agent, servicing secret secret secrets you can't tell anybody about, simply because the would think you were nuts. Sometimes though things simply are nuts. Like the fact I'm talking to you guys who are looking at me like you are right now, so now I'm going to do my first magic trick of the official contest which is going to be starting with an English guy named Jumping Jack Flash whose this little Limey sad faced kind of guy who sat over there and drank a lot of gin and signed off on anything the Unit pushed in front of him and the Army okayed anything he put in, because they all thought it was some kind of really secret secret shit they were involved in here, and I guess it was. But since this is the next time we'll all be playing Dee-troit, I thought I'd say you guys don't go easing yourselves out the door just because a bunch of white people starts showing up here and thinking their shit don't stink. I'm serious now, anytime you want a drink, I don't care, you just come in and it's the same old damn bar to you guys it always was, even thought it's going to be all Mirror World, it's the same old place as far as any of you guys go, so just ease on in and if some honky be getting in your face, you just look at him and tell em your a close personal friend of Mr. Earl's and it's best you be cooling you jets or the Pixies be throwing that cracker's ass out the door and anyone gives you any shit, you got the right to just have them ejected, no questions ask and no bullshit has to be taken from anyone. Mr. Earl and I go way back, and he's not bad for a nigger hating Georgia cracker boy. Guy had some serious issues when he got here, but he bailed Mrs. Lumbai's ass out that time she needed that Hellfire dropped in to take out that fifty cal, and he was on it, no questions asked, just deliver the fucking goods and did just what the hell he was supposed to and he was a colonel then and she was this illiterate blacker than black black operator that lived all of her life in Africa and to tell you the truth, I'm not ever even sure if she knew what planet Detroit is on, but considering she's Lucky Lucy's kid sister, I guess it doesn't really matter that much. Lucky Lucy happens to be a fan of Jack the Cat's and she's just a big huge Detroit junkie fanatic fan. Who knows, this time out? We might even go as far as fourth season, but I kind of doubt it. Jack's around, but frankly, I don't think I'd want to play Paris Hilton's boyfriend all that much myself, and what with all the Pixie Dust it took to pull the place back together before the humans got wise that morning, frankly, it was pretty damn weird a day. Picked up the Presidents, us and Russia's, Ms. Hilton, then we went over to Skyrock's place for a while, hung out, oh, maybe a month or so while everyone hassled out their bits, and then we came back here and closed up for good. Later on, a few of the guys would wander by and have a few, but it was pretty much closed to the public when they found out we really didn't have a Tokyo Unit and really started to tear apart the greatest cover story never told. Good luck with that one, you assholes, may you rot in hell for canceling the four other shows we had up on the board at that time. Rump Ranger Rick looked like it might have legs, but the back lash we got from The Toast of the Castro pretty much put the kibosh on that one. Some of the bath house stuff was pretty funny, but after they outted the gay brother in the none identical twins for being straight, that was just a bit too much plot twist and the network pulled it. Paris was getting bored with it and I don't really blame her. She go so much shit for her line of blast wear, and then she got more shit for running it every god damn bombing that went on anywhere or any place or any time. Taffy 3 took a hell of a lot of really undeserved shit for that too, but at least we had the Confederate Soldiers we rescued to shove down there throats and having the real guys, well, never did understand how the hell they really pulled that one off, I kind of think Little Timmy was the culprit with that one, but it could have been one of the other time travelers that showed up for the ball."

Flat out baffled is now the looks everyone all the way down the line are wearing. He laughs.

"Okay, this is real magic I'm talking about but since I can see I'm losing you, how about instead of just hanging around this sad assed bar, I show you a real trick and then I'll buy you dinner any place or when you want to go, costs is no objection. Circe Five, Four Seasons, something in the Gay Nineties perhaps? Did you guys ever want to go live rich somewhere and all that stuff."

Well of course they did, but old Earl is going a bit out to lunch after he chugalugged that bottle of really amazing booze. There is the goblet, there is Earl, and the fact that the guy still seems sober but they aren't, oh well. He sighs.

"Look, I could be flapping my jaws all night here and you wouldn't be believing a word of what I'm saying. So it's time for some pixie trick o technology."

He picks up the box and opens it and picks up a big green glass bottle with a mismatched stopper from some other bottle in the neck. He plunks it down on the bar with authority and looks at it with narrowed eyes. Okay, enough with the melodrama. He opens the bottle up by pushing the glass stopper on down into the bottle. Okay, magic trick, but the glass stopper obviously ain't glass otherwise he couldn't do that. He smiles at them, obviously about to spring something on them and says softly to himself, 'Like candy from a baby.' He has to chuckle.

"You want to go to Hawaii baby girl?"

"Yeah."

Obviously her old man is losing it, and he's not in no tax bracket to be taking her black ass off to Hawaii.

"You don't sound like you really mean it. I'm serious. If you could go anywhere in the world you wanted to go for the next six days, where would that be? Or is Hawaii good enough for you?"

"Yeah, daddy, Hawaii be fine with me."

humoring the old man, who's looking at the other adults and kind of letting them know he's about to surprise his kid, but she'd gotten her presents the night before and they'd asked about how she done with Santy Clause and yah, she'd gotten some stuff she'd wanted and some other stuff her old man got her that she'd be wearing back to school January 5th and some of it wasn't too bad. LIke her old man has any real sense of what's cool for girls to wear. Yeah, right. Okay, in other words, but she sure didn't get no trips to Hawaii.

"Your wonder if our old buddy Earl has finally gone round the bend, eh? Okay, losers, watch this next magic trick and see if I'm lying to your face or not. This bottle contains pixie dust. If you want to get technical about it, what our friendly little bottle of pixie dust consists of is direct control nano assemblers running direct quantum instruction. It's not theoretically possible to ever even exist, but there it is and I'm holding maybe about twenty thirty trillion bucks worth of stuff down in the basement and this little bottle is worth more than this entire planet we're standing on right now and Skyrock just handed it over to Jack because he just handed his super duper pistol having enough fire power in it to pretty well rip up the whole joint and if you think about five hundred hypervelositic ammo rounds being set off in here? Haven't got a cue as to what hypervelositic means, do you? These are little tiny piece of matter moving at near light speed and old Mrs. Lumbai blowing off a whole clip of the stuff playing Annie Oakley in here? Five hundred hunters loose and she just blew them all away and yeah, hell of a joke Skyrock, but this place was just smoke and busted up flat screens that cost a million buck a pop and here is this asshole thinking he's the guy in charge of the Unit comes in here strutting his stuff and all the Pixies wearing tool belts are winking at the guy and he was feeling pretty self important that morning he came in an stepped on Skyrock and if Jack hadn't have given him the hold single, I think old Skyrock would have just busted that guy right in two with that bullwhip trick of his. He had it hauled back and ready to fly. This picture frame you guys always wondered about it not having a picture in it? There's lots of pictures in here you guys simply can't see because you don't belong to the Unit. There's picture of all of us that is Taffy 3 in here and it's probably worth a lot of money to somebody somewhere, knowing who is really in the unit and who says they are in the Unit not being the exact same deal. You can't cut it in our world, that don't matter none, but this being Christmas and all, I'm breaking security here, but since nobody would ever believe you, what the hell. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other and sometimes I'll be able to talk and sometimes I won't, but tonight I can talk, okay? So let's see, what shall I wish for? Eh? Jessica, you ain't thinking your dada daddy is playing with a full deck, but since we always cheat em fair and square sir, I'll let it slide for now. So. Let's have a little fun. Detroit, this is Detroit Actual, this is operational immediate. Lucy, please."

Slight buzzing click. Hello.

"Hey, Lucy! How they hanging? You still out smiting the peasants and blowing them away with your awesomeness in ballistic effects.

"Earl! My god, Earl! What happened to you? Why didn't you make the pick up with the rest of the crew? When the hell are you."

He laughs, for he can see everyone looking at him and he's looking at this little empty picture frame.

"I'm in December 25, 2014, and I'm in the Reality Bar and Grill."

'Hold everything, Captain, we're diverting, We're going to Earl's place. Step on it! How long till I can see your smiling black ass, nigger?' Earl just whoops.

"God, Lucy, who is you calling nigger, your highness? Take a look at your own black ass sometime in the Mirror. Yeah, yeah, I know, you just like that night adaption shit all to hell and gone, but yeah, looking forwards to seeing your own bad assed ugliness, Lucy. It's been a while...

"Damn straight it has. So we're having another round of Detroit, hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink?.

"Oh yeah, we certainly are. You want to plunk a little action down on the outcome lady."

She laughs delightedly.

"Holy cow, Earl, I'd swear you were trying to hustle my sweet lovely old lady ass like I was some sort of 'candy from a baby' you old fraud...

"Well, just getting back in practice. You're going to have to meet my kid, Lucy, she kind of reminds me of you."

'Well, considering the amount of stuff we gene clipped into her, I should think so."

He laughs.

"I haven't told her about any of this stuff Lucy. I just surprised her with a trip to Hawaii for the holiday."

'Nonsense, since we're ... fourteen of your minutes out ... why don't we go to one of my places? I'lll download a catalogue and she can just pick whatever place she wants. The Tilllio's are blooming out at the place on Ashtar, I think it's called, we could stop by there if you'd think she'd enjoy it."

'Lucy, my kid hasn't ever been any where besides the real Detroit in her life. Sounds like you're trying to butter me up to shave some points sometime or another, now let's not just go be getting greedier than thou on us poor folks, you hear?.

"If you're sitting in the bar in Detroit, I should imagine you might have noticed what's in the basement by now, I should have hoped.' 'Yeah, like I'm going to be explain where I got my hands on a whole hell of a lot of gold bricks that be stamped all over US Government."

'Oh, still that problem we didn't quite solve last time. Well, we should have enough gold by now to at least do Eight Mile road. Be nice to get some decent back stops up so we can do some decent shooting for a change. Something hypervelositic isn't going to something you can catch with a big pile of dirt, you know? Get anything above four micrograms and you're pretty much into too big to shoot. You know how I've been waiting on your people to set up a decent gunnery range. Too bad you don't really have the space to put up something serious people would consider worth entering. This lightwave and less restrictions are such a bother...

"Hey Lucy, you weren't around the morning Mrs. Lumbai shot up the place waving that stupid thing Skyrock picked up somewhere that I'm pretty sure is illegal in at least four of the known Universes."

"Not in my realm, sonny. If you're going to be running with the big dogs, you have to pack some serious heat, not this target pistol stuff you futz around with. You ever upgrade on your own personal fire power? Still have that nice little Saturday night special?.

"Saturday night spec ... if you're referring to that little number like the one Jack blew the hole in the stage that time on Belle Isle when you'd parked Detroit 2015 over it so the crowds would have some rain cover, yeah, I still got that little blaster. Never leave home without it. Man always have to have something up his sleeve."

Earl give a flick of his wrist and there is a small piece of pistol shaped glass with a single red dot on it. He flicks his thumb over it and the dot turns green. He aims it off to one side and goes, Pow! and chuckles. The thing is no longer in the palm of his hand. He smiles and turns his hand over and catches the thing with his other hand. He pushes his two palms together and rubs them and the glass gun is gone. He smiles and puts hit finger up beside his nose and pats it. Oh, Earl is enjoying himself way too much. Lucy says she can't wait to see him again and he asks her if she'll do him a favor and supply communications links for a while, he was down in the basement and found this bottle of Skyrocks and figures he'd crack open the bottle of pixie dust and spin up Mirror World for his friends and she says, yes, of course and he thanks her and she's twelve out and he says he'll have the place all spiffied up for her by the time she gets there and she laughs gaily and say, 'Of course you will, what with Skyrock's stash of pixie dust, you should have a castle ready for me by the time I get there!' Earl laughs easily and says that she wouldn't be able to find the place if he did that and besides, the neighbors would talk. They exchange a few words more and hang up.

"An old friend of mine is going to be dropping in. She's Lucy Lucy to the crew, and you're in here, so you're crew as far as she's concerned. If her security gives you any trouble, just say your neighborhood bar being taken over by riff raff like them is really running the place down, but put one of those phones in your pocket and they won't bother you at all ever. Just when she's out in public, her crew is always pretty spun up and might go to guns before you can explain yourself, unless you have one of those phones on you, in which case, you're already cleared to go anywhere and whatever you want, they'll be more than happy to give it to you. You guys think I'm this old bartender that's talking through his ass, but Lucky Lucy really is in fact the ruler of much more stuff than we could ever see if we lived to be a thousand, and I can state that as an absolute fact. You couldn't see all of her empire if you just spent an hour on each of her planets, or even ten minutes or even fifty seconds, she's a really really rich woman, and she's part of Taffy 3. Hell of a lady for a dramatic entrance, and the way she hit the stage in the Fountain on Belle Isle just as the storm decided to really let loose, she just drives up and parks her flying saucer over the whole damn show and essentially saved her friends from getting wet while they were playing music. First damn day of the Time Traveler's Ball and the skies decided to open and that concert was on its way to being rained out when she turned up and basically saved the day. Even left us a big huge balloon behind to keep the cover story going. Everyone thought we'd rigged it off a big crane that was sitting there the next morning. We swiped that crane of the whole show, just left it parked right there beside the stage and then took it back and parked it where we'd stolen it from and nobody ever knew it was gone. Whoo ee! That lady is hell on wheels sharp. Suppose I should start cleaning this place up a bit since I've got royalty coming and all."

Looks are exchanged. Whatever Earl's pissing and moaning about, they still got free drinks in front of them and no way in hell is he going to be fixing up this bar in only a few minutes so he can be entertaining no royalty, like Earl even knows any Royalty, yeah, right. Earl's looking pretty perky though. What kinds of scam is this guy running on them? Okay, Earl, step up, let's see your ass get this old bar cleaned up so you can be entertaining royalty, This I got to seeing with my own eyes, and yeah, people are looking at Earl a bit differently all right, but kind of sad to see this guy losing it with him saying he knows royalty, that will be the day.

Earl picks up the bottle with the neck on it that looks more like some glass decanter fancy white folk pour their booze from. He softly sings, 'Oh pixies oh pixies where ever I do roam, oh pixies oh pixies, you'll alway make it my home.' Then he snaps up and grabs the neck of the bottle and hurls it toward the blue glass mirror and the thing goes sailing through the mirror and nothing happens. Wait. The thing just went through the mirror. You saw that one, too? After fast throw of his bottle, like he was throwing a knife, that bottle should have had to either shatter or broken the mirror. Glass bottles just do NOT go through mirrors, but instead of the shattering of glass, nothing. Okay, Earl, let's hear about this one, eh? Earl is looking at them and said.

"In Mirror World, things are never quite what they seem."

He's pretty smug about whatever the hell he's on about but looks like our audience tonight is just plain baffled. Earl laughs.

"Okay your guppies, close your mouths and for my next amazing magic act, I'll have dozen or so Paris Hilton clones come in and redecorate the place."

He laughs.

"No, I'm not going to be pulling shit like that on you, you wouldn't recognize the place any more if I went and did something like that, would you. Hmm? Old crazy Earl, finally flipped out one Christmas and started talking about going to Hawaii and if that wasn't crazy enough, he gave us cell phones that don't work and then he started throwing bottles through mirrors. We all on the same page here? You girls in back hear okay."

And a chorus of voice answers behind him.

"Oh yes, Earl, we can here you fine."

and each and every one of those people spins around on their bar stool and just stared at the twelve identical clones of Paris Hilton that had suddenly come to be standing stark naked in the bar behind them. When the woman with the bottle of Stoli turns around, she'd been pouring a drink and the bottle and her cigarette both fall on the floor, but the bottle doesn't break. And in the silence, a glug, glug glug glug glug of the booze pouring out on the thread bare carpeting is at last silent. The black people in the bar are absolutely flabbergasted as to how this dozen naked white people had snuck in there without the front door being heard to open and what do you do when you find a dozen naked identical blonds have suddenly appeared behind you like that? Pretty much their reactions, too. There is the 'this isn't really happening' thing that kicks in, you know? Achieved starlement reaction, and Earl is just eating up this moment and his kid, being sober and having those young fast reflexes is the first to turn. He's got what is popularly known as a shit eating grin ear to ear and as she faces him, he does an eyebrow thing, like 'what do you think of your old man now, baby cakes?' Finally impressed the kid, this is one of those once in a life time moments of fond memories later on happening and Earl's just eating it up.

"Hey, Ethel, you look like you need another round."

And he pours her another glass of Stoli and puts another glass of water beside her to sip on, like she likes her set up. She watches him pour and picks up her shot glass, slams it down, shoves it towards the bottle and he pours her another, holding the bottle out, like, 'you want me to do it again?' and she gives a slight shake of her head, 'no thanks' and she's back on an even keel. She takes a dainty like little slurp and then asks, calmly, or at least under the circumstance, somewhat calmly.

"Earl, can you explain to me what a dozen white girls are doing standing around naked in your bar."

He thinks about it a second, gives a kind of shrug and at the same time nods, kind of a tilt of the head kind of deal, but yeah, he thinks he can explain this.

"Well, I've heard of people seeing double before, but this is the first time I've ever had someone I knew say they only saw half of what they were looking at. I swear, you're drinking yourself sober."

'Don't you go getting smart with me Earl Senchuck. I don't care how many you got standing there, and i don't need to count em, thank you very much, but I think you have some explaining to do to us here tonight. What's with the blonds, nigger."

He laughs.

"I've been trying to tell you guys all night and not a single one of you would believe a single word I said. A dozen blonds standing around naked and all of a sudden I have some explaining to do? You ever listen to yourself woman? Where you be getting this got to explain myself stuff from? I don't have to do a damn thing I don't want to."

"Oh? How about this super duper royal friend of yours we never heard about before in our lives is supposed to drop in in a minute or so and you say you have to clean up this bar before your high and mighty friend we never heard about before gets here."

Earl just smiles at her.

"Well, baby cakes, I guess if Jack can stand over there where the coffee machine will be and out himself to that General Beancounter of whatever his name was, I guess I am allowed to stand over here and out myself too. You know all this stuff I've been having up on the walls I never talked about? Well, we're time travelers and we're having a party."

Totally blank faces looking back. Earl is having his little 'basking in the light' moment and he's enjoying it to its fullest. One of the girls says.

"Her Majesty is one minute seventeen seconds ETA."

Earl lets this roll off his back like it's of no real importance. If she's the fucking queen of the Universe, what's that make him, eh? Earl's so full of self confidence that the tired old guy with a bar full of old people he's serving drinks too has nothing to do with this guy here, who'd be bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet if he was younger, but hey, right now, he's doing way better than okay. He's having a really great day and everything is going his way and he simply does not care that this supposed to be royal friend of his is dropping around and the bar? Yes, it sure could use a bit of cleaning up, but this guy has not a care in the world. Glances are exchanged and nothing is creating the slightest ripple in his enjoyment of the moment.

"Damn, you kids are simply too naive and gullible. I could talk you guys out of your lunch money and your panties too and not even have to breath deep. This is not a simple thing to explain and why I ever even tried to explain how to play Detroit? What did I get? Nothing but blank looks. A dozen bare assed white girls, now all of a sudden I have to be explaining myself? You see those girls over there, me over here, and what's wrong with this picture. Each and every one of those girls can tell you just how long my dick is and how good it feels, too. Am I lying ladies."

They all smile their award winning smiles and cheerfully look at the others and do whatever it is to get through to his skeptical audience that yes, indeed, apparently Jessica's daddy has knocked booties with a dozen blonde haired, blue eyed, identical twins? 'Damn, Earl, you been holding out on us. How come you never mentioned you did a dozen blonds that looked like that before? What planet you say your from? And if they have any more like that back there, bring me back a dozen for my own-self, will you?' Earl shrugs.

"Hell, take these home with you. Just do one thing for me, though, will you?.

"What's that, Earl."

'Take a pic of your old lady's face when you explain to her how they just happened to follow you home and can you keep them?' There is a split second and then they start breaking up. Okay, this is way too strange, but that one there, yeah, that one for sure ain't going to ever be happening with his wife!

And while they are having a good laugh the bar's front door opens and in strolls Lucky Lucy. 'Earl! How's my favorite nigger in all of god damn Detroit!' And this is not said in a black voice, it's said in this air fair high faulting English English!

"Lucy, you old slut! You still your same old wonderfulness. Come on your stupid old broad and give me a hug."

And he comes around the bar and they are beating each other on the back and doing all that long lost friend's bit and inside the bar is getting pretty crowed with the entourage this woman has brought into the bar with her. The clones are circulating around with drinks on trays and little snack on trays and it's the same sad old bar it is always been, nothing at all has changed, but a lot more customers are in this place and Earl has this group of women he's not said one word to circulating around and doing little curtsies and ... one of the attendees looks up and down the bar with a rather quizzical sort of look and then examines each one closely. Ah ha! He head over to Jessica."Are you the offspring of him there."

Yes, why.

"Oh, her majesty wanted you to have a little gift, because she's missed your birthing rituals or something like that, but she said you have another favorite gifting day but since we can't go back to yesterday, if it's still allowed to give a gift, well, she asked if you'd accept this?' And he hands over a small spherical shaped bead it looks like, but rather swirly clouds and kind of looks like a little globe of the Earth but they didn't get the land masses right, which she can see.

"Tell her thank you very much. I'll treasure it always.' The non human nods, plainly pleased that he'd gotten which was the right human to give the gift to right. He gives a little nod to the guy stand there and just looking at him dumbfounded and really looking at this apparently wealthy looking individual. It's a bit awkward being stared at like that, so 'he she or it' turns back to Jessica and mutters, so glad you liked it, her majesty didn't really have a lot of time to shop for the perfect gift you know, and when she heard you liked warm waters, tropical climates and such she thought you would enjoy Scotia."

"Oh, well, I've never had Scotia before...

"Uh, yes, I can see how that would be, since she's just given it to you I suppose."

Slight inflection, maybe perhaps she'd given it to you before and you're just re-gifting someone with ... well, terrible protocol and all that, but what are the odds? Jessica picks up on what this being is trying to convey. This is not something she's really able to convey too well, but ... here goes.

"What's Scotia."

Ah! Okay, this one is a slam dump.

"Oh, it's a small planet out towards the,,, oh, what's that one called? Polaris. Yes, you look down about three degrees or so, then it's about oh, fifty thousand parsecs past there.' You shitting me."

'Uh, no, I've no reason to eat and digest you. Your a friend of her majesties, right? Or your forebearer is, correct?'.

"Man, I'd ask what planet your from, but I'd guess it's not someplace I've ever heard of, right?' He she or it, smiles and shrugs. Of course you wouldn't have heard of his home world, he'd never heard of it either. He lives on a star ship and has never wanted to be anywhere else. This is just another planet and his ruler has friends there and here they are and this offspring creature seems a bit ... not really as happy as this lackey thinks his her or its sovereign would have wished it to be. My; her having to just grab and guess, this won't do.

"Your unhappy with your gift? Would you like another type of planet perhaps? Is it the address, perhaps? Are you at war with that planet or."

Culture shock.

"Are you kidding me."

Blank look.

"Well ... if me program has the idiom correct, you are 'a kid' and so ... I'm afraid I simply have missed the nuisances here. What is kidding? Are you in a birth process, no, that isn't it, no, not that definition either ... okay, I give. What do you wish to trade for the planet."

Jessica laughs.

"Not a single one of my friends would believe this conversation. Here I am in a sad little run down bar and here this empress blows into the place and stands around drinking shots of tequila with my old man and she just laid a planet on me? I don't even believe it myself."

she chuckles.

"So what kind of a deal would you give me on this planet? Is it worth a lot."

'Mmm ... have to talk to accounting about that, but rough estimate, oh, thirty to forty times what this one is worth, I should guess. Very nice place, really. Ah! Now I know why she chose that one to give to you; her sister handed her a whole bunch of genetic materials and we populated with Earth life forms. Make you feel right at home pretty much right from the instant you move in. Quite thought full of her, really, but Lucky Lucy always seems to have an instinctual grasp on things, gives me a thrill just how fast she picks up on stuff. Still can't figure out what happened that time your fore-bearer and her got bombed together that night."

'Wait, you're saying my old man went out and got drunk with your queen? Seriously?.

"No, I was referring to the nucleonic device that was detonated near the location your forebearer were in when the device was turned on and they were turned off. They have gotten intoxicated together on many different occasions. Your father and I served together aboard the New Detroit and spent seventeen years on her, and he and I spent a considerable amount of time aboard the Detroit 2015. I think it was ... yes, it was, just last year here, as a matter of fact. Or next summer. Oh, Two seasons? A half year? Something like that, but here we are, stick in the middle and not sure which way to turn again, I guess."

Jessica is quick.

"What do you mean by 'getting bombed."

'Well a bomb is an explosive device people use to kill other people and one was set off and everyone joined the 'late' party. Terrible night, at least it was quick...

"Your saying my dad was blown up? How did he survive."

'Well, he didn't...

"But that is my dad over there."

'Yes? Your point being?.

"So how come my daddy is standing over there instead of pushing up daisies on some foreign planet I never even heard of before?' A 'what part aren't I getting' look and then through the other eye. The two eyes look at each other. Back to Jessica. 'I don't understand you...

"You said my dad and your queen got blown up together."

'Yes?.

"So how come he didn't die."

'He did die.' Ball's back in your court, young human.

"But he's alive over there right now."

'Yes, so he is, I can see that very clearly for myself, yes, he is alive."

Uh. Jessica looks at this 'tourist' and then looks at the 'old customer in his late fifties sixties guy just eying this guy: So this is what an alien looks like. The alien with the two eyes that can look at each other's one eye is pretty much watching this guy looking at him, then back to Jessica, then over to the guy looking at him, back to Jessica, over at the old bar fly, back to Jessica, and its nervous.

"Uh...

"'What?.

"Uh, why is this guy looking at me like this? He knows I'm not prey, right? I mean, he's not going to go guns on me here, now is he?"

"Oh, Mr. Felt is just curious about you. He's never seen an alien before."

'Fast menta.

"Ah, yes, uh, quite ... uh, the novelty thing is it? Would it be okay if I just gave him one of my clones to examine and dissect? We do share biochemistry and I'm now told that our two species can actually dine on each other with no ill effect. If he's a gourmet, I'll have the chef send some receipts with the clone."

Both humans just drop jaw.

"Oh, good. For a second there I thought we weren't in civilization any more. I'm particularly fond of leg meat, but let's face it, we're not as tasty as Threem. A good dry rub Threem, ah, now that is to die for! But we make great raw chunk sushi, too, but I'd guess from your dental applies that you aren't really into that tearing the flesh from bones stuff my people so love. Hmm."

Girl looks at bar fly. Bar fly looks at young girl. Suddenly they are a hell of a lot closer to each other than they had been just a second ago.

"Want to see."

This odd eyed alien with the two crazy on short stalks eyeball ... well ... kind of... 'hammer head character' opens up his mouth, and why the eyes are on either side of it's mouth, I haven't a clue about, but this thing is all mouth in a way we've never seen before. When his jaw ... opens, it opens ... side to side. From the top of its head down. And it turns out it has four eyes and two more peep at the Jessica human off spring of her majesties pal Earl.

"I need a drink."

Says the old bar fly. And instantly a Paris Hilton Clone appears with a drink on a tray.

There are two glasses and two human hands, one young, one old, pick up these shot glasses and knock them back. Kid's coughing and there is an instantly available glass of water on another highly polished silver tray, kid grabs the water, and takes a guzzle to chase down the straight whatever it is that the barfly had been drinking. The alien closes his jaw, his head is back together, four eyes? Okay, that was weird. Two eyes look at each other, go, 'shrug, wonder what that was about.' Goes back to be 'someone in entourage of diplomatic mission' and checks back and forth, okay, humans seem to have a cultural shock, they aren't at all familiar with and okay, that was a bit awkward, but now things are okay again. Better change the subject ... and this 'thoughts going through an alien's mind' are actually crawling across the bottom of the screen. Okay. He looks around a bit...

"Say, those aren't real Paris Hiltons are they? Her majesty just loves her Paris Hiltons, you know."

Uh, okay, this is odd. 'No, they're her clones...

"Wow. I wasn't ... rather minimalist life style your father maintains here, I'd say. Great field craft, and he snookered me good and proper, too! hee hee, sly old dog."

'Field craft?.

"Oh yes, the Earl is truly a master of espionage, what his cover story here? He taught me 'old run down nigger' and I still use it. One of the classic's all right. Truly amazing man your ... father unit, right? Not ... mother unit? Oh, I see, sex differntiationals have not really matured fully, yet, I see.' The eye stalk from the back have come around and are looking at her chest. One can see why 'is it a boy or girl?' isn't obvious from a block away under the sweat shirt of 'wear it because its warm' clothes she has on.

"Father unit."

And she gives one of the things eyes a dirty look. It looks at the other eye, looks back up at her, then back at the other eye and they both retreat around to the other side of this creature. Uh ... how can two humans figure they are being dissed by someone talking fondly about how here daddy taught the guy this role of 'tired old nigger' when from across the bar comes a howl out of her old man who's got another 'Boris Bottle' in his hand he'd just knocked the top off and he and her majesty is about to have a ... chug a lugging contest? What have you done with my real father.

"Ah, fifty on the Earl."

Shouts and squeals and money rubbing finger gestures and 'oh?.

"Your on."

Ding! A bell from a boxing ring dings and down the hatch it goes.

"YES! Kick ass, Earl."

The alien chortles as he parades around the circle of aliens settling up bets.

"Lucy! You bitch."

Rings out.

"You threw that fight."

'Don't get your little timmies in a knot, you slut pig! Of course I did! Cheated you fair and square sir!.

"But it was the federation I had down."

'Suck it up buttercup! You know the fucking world's better off with you upsurped! Thought you said you'd had enough of that 'ruler of all her surveys' nonsense out of your system by now, haven't you."

'Well, yes...

"Then what's your bitch, bitch? Now you can do the Spica leg of the journey for the next five or ten years, maybe pick a planet and settle down for a while, do something useful for a change, eh."

'Lucy!.

"Desi."

WTF?

Her dad see her staring at him.

"Hey, Lucy, come and meet my kid."

'About damn time, too, I should say. My prime minister looks like he's just about to step on his diplomatic dick!' Earl laughs, having more fun than she'd seen him have ... ever! The four legged woman and her dad come over and he's got his hand on her neck, pals kind of a deal, an.

"Lucy, this is Jessica, Jessica, I'd like you to meet my really dearest friend in the whole wide world, Lucky Lucy herself. Since your family and all, you can call her Lucy or Lucky any time you want while we're in private, as this is just basically 'stopping in to say hi' real good friends sort of deal here, but until we go out of this closed tautology loop we're stuck in, to you in public, she's 'yes, your majesty' and 'no, your majesty' and you better be doing plenty of suck up, you hear? This is just us, part of the Unit, hanging out in private, but when public is here, you be minding your manners, now you hear."

'Oh, bosh, Earl! Feel free to come up any time you feel like talking. I'm so bored with this diplomatic protocol stuff by now I could gun down half the guest list before the soup course and do the other half afterwards."

And both of them say together.

"As long as you don't shoot the cook before he fixes you dinner!' and they both laugh.

"Hey, we should take Jessica along when we go places. Nothing too hair raising, but maybe she's like to ... AH! Now I got it."

Lucy looks at him and he looks back at Lucy.

"I want to take her to do Confederate soldier with us. She's going to have to do this book report about slavery, so when we pick them up, we just bring them back to the Unit here and she can be part of their pod unit. Wonder what a trio of Genuine Georgia Cracker red neck asshole kids would do with a little nigger girl being their Pixie, hmm? Sound like a good story for the campfires, Loose Lucy."

'Yes, it does, and she's going to have to go through training before we leave, so that sounds totally delightful. At least it will get her over here own species limitations...

"Yeah, but how the hell does a single male father raise a single female? Toughest tour of duty I ever spent was being her daddy, but also the most rewarding. hee. Hee hee. Oh, yeah, that sure would be funny if that was to happen. Heehee. Oh Earl! One sick puppy, I am."

'Share it?.

"I don't know, Luce, I really don't think she's ready for the kind of stuff we find funny on the Unit, but since there is three of them, you can't make a pod out of four, so it was just a passing funny thought...

"Well, one's one of ours, you see? It's a rescue."

'No shit? What the fuck is a member of Taffy 3 doing be dying out there then? Just weather conditions? What the fuck? People in Taffy 3 don't die from no weather conditions!.

"Of course we don't! That's why this year's game is having that secret scenario added to it. So we do have a fledgling pod. Hmm..."

'Hmm yourself, bitch, you thinking what I'm thinking?.

"A hundred and fifty years is a long time."

'Yeah, but she's smart, she could probably bring those crackers up to speed pretty fast, and they ain't exactly going to be raping her young ass the conditions we found their bodies in, I don't think they could have raped their own dicks, tell you the truth...

"Well...

"'Well your own self. I think I'd rather have her trying to figure that sex stuff out from some Georgia Cracker Boy from 1865 than some stupid wanna be bad ass from around here in the ever so delightful Detroit 2015, and that's for sure!

Jessica's face ... if it could have would ... turned white. Yeah, dumb line, but you get what I mean. Kid just got some culture shock laid on her big time! 'Wha, what are you talking about Daddy?.

"Kid, where and when I'm from, it's not like around here. I am going to be needing someone to keep and take care of two very young and scared kids out of the past that we'll be picking up and bringing in here on the 18th of next month and you, baby cakes, just got assigned to your pod. They don't know nothing, ones maybe seventeen and the other one I'd guess is fifteen and ... oh, he not being from around here, he's going to have himself a ride home all lined up soon as he can get to the first iPhone he can find. Which explains why he got sick and died, he'd already been shot in the arm and it got infected and the guy just upped and died, or would have if we hadn't have gone back and rescued his ass, but that's what we did and so now we got to go get the other two and pull them back here with us, and those poor kids just simply won't have a clue as to what to do with living in this century and they are going to need someone to be their baby sitter and that means you and them two crackers are going to be eating together, showering together, and sleeping together and maybe that way both those boys and you can get yourselves over your race shit."

'Daddy! I'm not sleeping with any two boys, and I don't care what color they are!' He gives his duly outraged daughter a half amused, half exasperated odd look.

"Kids today..."

he murmurs to himself.

"Hey, baby cakes, don't be going off on your old dad just because he has a good idea once in a while. We're going to have to pull those two kids from a hundred and fifty years ago into the unit or just toss their sorry asses back out on the plains when we get our guy, so it's either you get a couple of research assistants for your civics homework and get to show them around the 21st Century and be their Girl Guide and all, and this way, there is less cultural shock. Shit, bitch, they barely even industrial age and they sure as hell don't have none of that stuff in Plain's Georgia. That's where those two kids are from. So you either agree to take them in we hide them out here in bar with us or we just let them die. You was wondering what slavery is all about? Okay. Here's your chance to find out. You want it or not? You get to show two kids the 21st century and take them to school with you and you just fucking deal with it. I am not going to have time to be sitting around trying to teach you stuff that I don't have a clue about. This place here? Honey, to me this is like going back there and living in 1865 BC.

"'He's right you know. We don't really need them and I can't take them on my ship. Detroit Rules, you know?' Plainly she doesn't.

"Honey, look. I know how this thing works. I got the props we'll be building down in the basement. You've crawled around down there and wondered about all that stuff stashed away down there, but you haven't even see half of it. This is not a system that has anything going for it besides this silly little game we like to get together every now and then and play in this silly little reality loop we have set up for it to be played in. Detroit is the place we all came from and the place where this whole organization me and Lucy and the rest of us all came up through. You don't know the rules and this is where our 'go and learn' training is done. People are going to be killed here next summer as they are every summer, but the thing is, we don't really die. We are Taffy 3 and we don't die!

Two aliens, two human adults, one kid. Aliens are looking a bit sympathetic at her, barfly is looking totally bonkered, and Jessica? Oh yeah, now you understand why the aliens are observing this tender little father daughter moment and looking like they did.

A hundred and eighty pages in and let's see, what haven't I kind of shocked you with? Ah! Just the ticket!

"Hey, Jessica, lighten up! I'm not selling your ass into slavery here. You said you wanted to learn about slavery and this is the best deal I can come up with and at least the two crackers will give you something to do this summer and if you don't like them in three months, I'll just take them out and blast them away in the alley behind the bar and let the cops pick their bodies up and that will be that. You are going to be the only thing they will have to cling to and you are going to be their mommy and yes, you'll be sleeping with them and I said sleeping. We, us, the Unit, we always do things in threes, we're not fucking binary as you called it when you were trying to teach me about how the hell you do computers here, but when I came from, I was the computer. That's not Zen, dear, nor mystically bullshit, it just means that I was purpose built and what my purpose here is to run this Game. I can run games within games within games and you pretty much are blank eying out on me again, ain'tcha sweetie? You don't understand the quanta, you meet a couple of line rat old buddies of mine and now you think your old man is trying to set you up to be raped by a couple of racists who think because they be a black zebra with the white stripes, they better than the white zebra with the black stripes. It's all bullshit honey. Your just unable to get outside your own cultural box enough to see that, but I've been leading troops and units and it's probable that you will lose your virginity to a couple of pod mates. People have sex: That's how we get other people, you know? That's how I got you out of the deal, well, that and a bit of help I am not going to go into with you right now because you don't want to be talking about sex with your daddy, what's the hell he know about that stuff for, right? Okay, a dozen blonds in this bar and I could say to anyone of them come over here and suck my big black dick and each and everyone of them would, too, and know exactly how I like it, too. But taking that you ain't ever been anywhere and done anything, you'd think I was just ... ignorant ... if I did something like that. How about you just figure out for this one time, that I kind of know something about something you ain't learned about yet and let it go at that? I'm just trying to help you with your homework and this is the best I can do. It's not like I'm going to rope tie up Jack and sneak him up to your bedroom as a birthday present, but if you wanted to have him for you're first, I'd hit on him and he'd probably pop your cherry for you and you'd both have a swell time. I know I'm supposed to be stupid about sex, but baby cakes, I've been having sex since before you were born and I'm pushing my third game in this town and ain't lost my life paying my dues here yet, so I guess I sure as hell do know something about this business I'm in, don't I four eyes? He looks at Lucy's Prime Minister who nods and doesn't blink any of his eyes. Just looks at them. Odd, but ... all of them ... no looking back and forth ... yeah, Jessica, I'd guess your old man does know some shit you don't, eh? Humans are not the smartest people when it comes that far down to it.

"Jessica, you don't have to have sex with anyone you don't want to but picking the boy out of this gene pool? Who is going to be baby sitting those kids? Social Welfare? They're already dead, you see? The worms have dinned and I guess it is pretty much just bones under the sod, or maybe they just put them into a bonfire and burned the remains with the wood out of the wagon, but I'd guess that wagon was a lot more valuable than those dead boys' bodies and I'd guess with the frozen ground, they didn't get too deep a burial so something probably dug them up and had them for an early spring snack. So however you want to call it, and frankly, you are going to have to be figuring out this life and death bullshit some time or another and this just happened to be the day for my telling you about the Unit. So figure out if you want to keep them or not, the Unit will roll out the rookies and deployment is at 0000hrs on January 18 so you figure out if you want to be bundle buddies with this two kids and teach them all about how to use a john and what toilet paper is and about running water and all and probably talking to them and teaching them English and what to watch out for in this so called civilization we're standing around in here right now. I'm going to be hanging up my spurs and turning this bar over to someone else at the end of this contest and go off doing something else, so you figure out if you want to stick around on this planet or go off and do something else or what. I keep trying to bring this stuff up, but it's way hard to explain to someone who isn't in on the secret, you know."

Uh ... yeah, I'd say she's getting the idea there Earl...

"And this here life and death stuff? Hey, how many of you clones want to go to dinner at Lucky Lucy's tonight? Hands! Hee hee, they're all up aren't they Jessica? Well, okay ... you be looking at a bunch of white blonds and since I can't put them back in the bottle, off to dinner they go. You look at them as humans, don't you? But they are clones! They are NOT human beings, they are manufactured devices that have nothing at all human about them even though you couldn't find one piece of them that couldn't pass for human by any test human beings can make right this instance, but both Lucy and 4Eyes know what they are soon as they saw them, right."

And both of them nod.

"So. A half a dozen Paris Hiltons for dinner. That ought to cause quite a stir, don't you think."

Jessica nods. Obviously having a whole bunch of bimbos over for dinner that looked exactly alike is going to cause a stir! Duh daddy.

"Guess what's the main course."

Jessica gives him a 'how the hell would I know something about what aliens have for their main courses? Geez, dad!

"Oh Earl."

sighs Lucy.

4Eyes smiles, too.

"I told you Her Majesty loves Paris Hiltons."

Jessica faints and down to the ground she goes as the three of them stand there and watch.

"A bit of culture shock; she'll get over."

says the Earl of Detroit.

"I certainly hope so."

says Lucy.

"It could be a bit awkward to have to do vegetarian meals every time she drops by."

Who says you can't pitch Paris Hiltons? Everyone LOVES Paris Hiltons!

--The End--

"The Old Reality Bar and Grill"
Cross linkages between shows.
-next episodes-

"January 18 201."

episode (Air Date 17 Jan 2015) Third Hour broadcast.
-Jessica's Rabbits--Lt. Higgins goes to Tahoe-"Confederate Soldier Rescue' victim role.
First appearance of actors on set: Confederate Soldier(s) #1 & #2

Pixie Unit explanation:
Pixie Units keep the set running. Support crew. Laundry and food on the table.
Gofers are 'pixie unit people'
... and let's not forget the REAL little people...
dwarfs!, leprechans and n-words keep off (-ering me) grass (and I just can't say no.)
Wouldn't be sociable to say no.

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