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INT: DOME, FAR FUTURE WITH 1970’S SET BUILDERS

Reluctant Perm on head follows man and woman who may or not be main characters outside of a dome in that forest near Southampton .

‘I don’t know where we’re going,’ says Perm.

‘To a new set,’ says nameless female.

‘Will there be plot?’

‘There will.’

Reluctant perm increases reluctance by a few per cent because they’re outside and the Federation – without Riker or Sisko or Picard, only those corrupt admirals who cropped up every now and then – do not tolerate perms wandering outside the dome, especially welsh perms playing fanatics based on Mexican revolutionaries that most people don’t know about.

 

INSERT:

Emilio Zapata, a Northern Mexican, shot rich people and never dropped poor people in the shit just so he could go and poke drunk college students in Cancun.

Cancun Census 1917: Population: a lot, many rich, but zero zapatas

END INSERT

 

‘I’ve been what?’

‘Brainwashed,’ said the old-ish man.

‘I don’t remember that.’

‘Welcome to brainwashing.’

‘[Welsh swearword].’

‘I wish I had longer to explain,’ said the old-ish man who had hoped this role would stretch out for more than a single episode [stay longer in the dome, Terry, copy Reds, remember Reds? Yeah, they talked a lot, about socialism, revolution, people liked it, copy that, no, you’re sticking with the perm, fuck you then], ‘but we’re about to be massacred.’ Continue reading →