Title:

Title: Turn On, Tune In, Cop Out
Author: Triggersaurus
Rating: PG, for occasional, mild language
Spoilers: Maybe Season 6, but none really
Genre: Whole cast/humour
Summary: Out of the blue, the nurses and docs at County ER find their world isn't all it seems
Disclaimer: I ate the rights to ER. Sue me.
Thanks: I think I should have a little cheerleader pack who come out at this point and do a big whoopy-thing for Ryan because he's a fantastic editor and co-writer. I realised I now totally rely on him to check all my Americanisms for me, and I feel a little bad about it so maybe the cheerleaders would help show my gratitudeJust don't tell Aurora, Ryan!

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From the makers of Laugher Is The Best Medicine and Fairy Tales of the ER.

A Doug Who? Fanfic

In association with Evil Giraffe Productions

--Turn On, Tune In, Cop Out--

_______________________

Cogito, ergo sum – I think, therefore I am

_______________________

He's bleeding out!

Pulse is 180!

Where the hell is Benton??

He's going into cardiac arrhythmia, Dr. Greene.

Make that V-tach.

Crash cart!

Charge to 200

The body leapt as the electrical waves passed through it, and then dropped back onto the gurney, head lolling to one side.

Still in V-tach.

Charge to 360, clear!

The body heaved again, and the machine behind him let out a series of short sharp beeps, which slowed down rapidly.

We got a rhythm, but he's bradying down fast.

Another milligram of epi, someone page Benton.

I already did, Dr. Greene.

Well page him again!

Dr. Greene, his pulse ox is down to 80.

Someone get the thoracotomy kit.

I can't find one!

What do you mean you can't find one?

Dr. Weaver is using one next door, but there are none

A loud interruption stopped Lydia in her tracks, as a large man in black sweats and a dark green t-shirt burst into the trauma room. He stopped in his tracks and gazed around with a huge grin on his face before throwing his massive arms in the air and whooping. He spun around and turned his head to face the top corner of the trauma room, waving into the small security camera that was installed there.

Heeeeeeeeeeeellllllloooooooooooooo America!! Ya see this?! I'm in ER'! I got in!! Wooooooooooo! Check this out!!

He turned away from the camera, spotting Kerry Weaver and Luka Kovac, who had been drawn through the adjoining doors to see what all the noise was about. He threw an arm around her neck.

Look, it's Dr. Weaver!! Hey, Kerry, how DID you get that crutch anyway?! Luka, man, tell us what happened, huh? And look, hey it's Dr. Greene! This looks like a bloody one here, huh?! Get that thoracotomy tray, stat!

He poked at the body on the table, still grinning inanely and moving progressively around the room.

Yosh, my maaan! Lydia, you rock girl! Dr. Dave! Got any dating advice for me, huh?! You know what, one day that Dr. Chang or whatever will loosen up a bit, you just gotta hang in there buddy. She'll come round.

With one final whoop, the man danced out of the trauma room doors, and straight into the path of a dozen security guys. Except these men didn't look like normal hospital securitythey were all in black, like SAS men. Upon closer examination, they were wearing badges on their jackets, which said Actual Reality Productions.

_______________________

In the trauma rooms, the staff stood, mildly stunned by what had just happened. They were snapped out of the trance by the long tone of the cardiogram.

We've lo before Dave could get any further, the body on the gurney, the man who had been shot three times in the chest and who apparently didn't have a heart beat, sat up. He looked confused. Looking around him, he saw a nurse in the corner of the room.

Hey, um, Mikey? Now what? I mean, do we just keep going?

The heads of everyone in the trauma room snapped to the small male nurse, who was in the middle of helping himself to sterile drapes on the orders of Dr. Carter in Curtain Three. He looked not dissimilar from a rabbit caught in the headlights of a juggernaught. And then, he put one hand over his ear and whispered something into his collar.

At this moment, something in Kerry snapped.

Excuse me?? Just what in hell is going on here? Sir, I recommend that you lie down again, you're in very bad condition. Yosh, get a different cardiogram, it seems that that machine is broken. Someone get security back here. Sir? Yes, you, Nurse Smith, will you please step out? Go and wait at the admit desk, I want to talk to you. Mark, did you see what happened?

I saw the same as you, Kerry. I thought we'd seen all of Chicago's nuts.

Hmm, well obviously not. Where is security?? There were about fifty of them here a moment ago!

Dr. Weaver?

What is it, Yosh?

I think there's something you should see.

Kerry moved to the back of the gurney, followed by Mark.

Yosh held up a cable connected to the cardiogram, and their eyes followed it down, down, across the floor, to a connection in the wall. The plastic casing the would normally surround the connection had come away from the wall, and instead of a mass of wires and electrical devices, there was a small hole in the wall with an audio cable connected to their cable.

What the..? Dave had crept up behind them to see what was going on.

It's looks okay to me, Yosh. Kerry said. Mark nodded.

Dr. Weaver, this is not okay! Look, this should be plugged into a 13 amp domestic socket, but it's not! It's connected up to an audio cable which is running at 15 amps

The two other doctors looked at Dave. Luka's head appeared through the doors between the trauma rooms.

Kerry? We're sending him up to the O.R

Okay, Luka. Thanks. He looked a little longer at the room, and then left again. Dave returned to his point.

Why would a cardiogram be connected to an audio cable??!

You tell me, Dave. I don't have a clue about these things, seems like you know what you're talking about.

Okay, Dr. Greene, it goes like this. This machine only needs a normal, electrical supply like your TV, or your Minidisc, or your hairdryer, he looked at Kerry, it produces the sound we hear by itself, monitoring the patient's heart rate, right?? An audio cable though is used when a sound, or music or whatever, is being fed from one place he paused, waiting for the light to dawn, to another. See?

Dr. Malucci, are you saying that my cardiogram is playing noises from somewhere else??

But where?? And why?

Look guys, I don't have all the answers. You might wanna ask him, he pointed to the nurse, who, contrary to Kerry's orders, was still in the room and still frantically whispering into his collar, but I'm gonna see where this cable goes.

He started pulling at the wire running through the wall. As he did so, Kerry marched over to the nurse.

Hey!! Stop doing that! I thought I told you to go out to the admit desk? Cut it OUT!

She prodded him with her crutch, knocking him off balance enough so that he crashed into the wall. Coming closer to him, she peered at his collar and noticed a very small, black clip microphone. She yanked at it and pulled it away, bringing a tiny wire with it.

What is this?? WHAT IS THIS?

The nurse shrank back a little, his eyes wide and circling, desperately looking for something. The man on the gurney sat up again, swinging his legs around so they hung off the edge. I think we're gonna be in trouble, Mikey

Mark, who had been checking the guy's vital signs – somehow this guy was still demonstrating all the signs of being very close to death – grabbed him at the shoulders and tried to force him to lie back down. Sir, I don't know what is going on here, but you're really not well. I strongly advise you to stay here. He emphasized the last two words. With all this weird behaviour, the guy was probably on LSD or something that induced analgesia. Saying things a little louder and slower sometimes helped. But it was obviously not to be in this case, because the fatally wounded man kept on talking.

Maybe we should tell them what's going on. D'ya think we should, huh Mike? Or do we wait for all hell to break loose when Mr. Spielberg gets here?

He waited for the response, but unfortunately Mike was flattened against the wall, trying to keep as much distance between him and a very angry Dr. Weaver as possible. Which was hard given that she was approximately three inches from his face, taking turns to examine his mic and then him.

Holy crap! Hey, Chief! I think there's some sort of computer hooked up to this cable! Dave had managed to pull a length of the wire through the wall, and had obviously has quite a battle at some point because now where there was formerly a small plastic socket, there was a foot-wide gash in the wall. As he pulled a bit more, there was a small crunch and the back of what seemed to be a laptop computer crashed into the wall from the other side. The pounding of feet shortly followed the crunching sound and the laptop was yanked away, ripped the cable out from the outlet in the back, leaving Dave holding it loosely. He stood up, looking startled and turned to face Kerry and Mark. They gawked back at him, completely missing the fact that their two hostages had taken advantage of the distraction and escaped.

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Blue Eagle forty one. We have a breach in security. Repeat, we have a breach in security.

What kind of breach, forty one?

Suspects have been caught on set, three at the front, one at the main security desk and two more scaling the rear fence.

You have 6 suspects?

Affirmative sir. We think there may be more.

How many more?

Maybe 4, sir.

Why have you waited to tell me this, forty one?

Suspects have only just been found, sir. One man at the main security desk distracted our attention – he said he was armed and his accomplice had Mr. Spielberg.

Is this true?

No sir.

Have we located the other suspects yet? Are they armed?

Only one located, we're following him around the edge of the set, sir. Suspects do not appear to be armed.

Well that's something I suppose. Code Red has been called, more men are on their way.

Thank you sir.

Over and out.

The man turned to face the four other men in the office. They were all fascinated with their shoes, their mousemats and the dirt under their fingernails.

How exactly did we manage to let this happen??

His voice was dangerously quiet. Well?? Somehow, at least 7 members of the public have entered this closed set. On the basis that a fake accomplice had kidnapped Mr. Spielberg. Where were you when this happened? WHERE WERE YOU???

There was a long and uncomfortable silence.

I don't have time for this. There are still more people on the set and if they break in then we're all out of jobs. And believe me, I will make sure that you guys are not only out of a job here, but everywhere.

On that note, Mr. Wells stormed out of the office.

_______________________

Carter jumped as the curtain swished back loudly, as did his patient who was a nervous old lady who had had a nasty disagreement with a carrot and lost the end of her third finger. Before he could say anymore, he was drowned out by screaming as a throng of about ten teenage girls leapt on him. He dropped off the chair he'd been sitting on, wincing as he landed, and then squealing in horror as five of the screaming teens dropped down on top of him. Mrs. Frank sat on the bed and watched, her mouth slightly open. Amidst all the failing limbs and screaming, Carter managed to get his head free and yell for Malik, before disappearing again. Randi, watching from the admit area, diverted her attention long enough to check if Malik was about, elbowing him in the side as she turned back to see what was going on now. Malik, who had been engaged in the task of collecting a heap of dropped charts, stood up to see what was going on. He smothered a laugh at the sight of the heap of people writhing on the floor.

Hey, I can't help it if they wanna have some orgy here.

Randi whacked him. No you idiot, that's Dr. Carter under there. They just jumped on him.

And he's not having a good time?!

No, he

Carter's head bobbed up again, and he managed to free an arm to push one of the larger girls off.

Peter Benton, on his way to Trauma One, rushed forward to help followed by Malik and two aides. They found Carter at the bottom of the pile, looking maybe a little flatter than he had before.

What was THAT?!

The culprits, being held back by various medical personnel, were still screaming, and reaching out. One of the girls had fainted and had to be rushed off on a gurney. Carter, helped up by Malik, was dusting himself down and backing away from the noise, when a group of ten security guards burst into the ER from the ambulance bay.

They're not from our normal security firm Randi noticed as they jogged past, in all black and with a strange badge sewn on their jackets. Hey, he's got a gun!

The last trooper, carrying what looked like a semi-automatic gun, went to grab her but was cut short by a patient who had been waiting in chairs, who reached up and grabbed him.

Watch that one, man, she's lethal. She'll have you down in a moment. Don't you watch the show?

The guy grunted and joined his force, which was gathering up the clutch of girls who had attacked Carter. Carter himself was standing by his patient's bed, rubbing one hand through his hair, picking out bits of lint.

Can any of you guys tell me what is going on here?

He was answered with silence as they turned around and left the ER, dragging the screaming girls with them.

________________________

In Trauma Two, the unconscious teenager was starting to come round. Her eyes opened slowly, and focussed on the slightly blurry form of Cleo above her, reaching towards a long tube of fluid that was feeding itself into her left arm. Lily was making notes on a chart behind her.

Not really the reaction Cleo had been expecting, but nevertheless, the girl was awake. She hadn't hit her head at all, so she wasn't expecting any damage – just maybe coming down from a high or something.

Hi. Do you know where you are? You're in hospital, you passed out. Can you tell me your name?

The girl definitely looked depressed. Must be a bad come down, the tox screen should be back shortly to figure out what was going on.

Hi Mary. Can you remember what happened to you?

The face before her perked up a bit, then a lot.

Oh, wait! I'm still here, aren't I?! You're Dr. Finch! You're seeing Benton, boy he has issues. Where's Dr. Carter? I want him to treat me! Look, see, I don't feel so good, she made a strange face, and I think maybe you should go get him. He's real good with stuff like this.

Cleo frowned. What was she on about?? She'd believe it was a bad trip, but how did this kid know about Peter? She didn't recognise the patient at all – she'd know if she'd treated her before, especially one soodd.

I think Dr. Carter has another patient Mary. We're just going to wait on the results of a few tests we did, and then you can go home. Do you want us to call your parents?

No! I'm meant to be in school, but my friend emailed me about this break in and I told all my friends on the Internet so we could come and see JohnI'll be okay, I'll just go home and tell my mom I got sick at school. You don't have to tell them anything do you?

_______________________

I hoped I would never have to call this meeting. But unfortunately, the circumstances have arisen that now we have to make a difficult decision. About an hour ago, for whatever reason, approximately thirty people managed to break into the closed set, and consequently roughly fifteen of those people managed to get into the Emergency Room itself.

I wish I could say that they caused no damage and were removed before anything could happen, but it is my duty to inform you that they have probably leaked information to at least ten members of the staff. We know of three incidents that have occurred – in one a man completely ruined a trauma scene and the actor involved nearly let the whole thing slip, in another one of our doctors was set upon by hormonal teenagers, and there has also been a report from Information Services that someone may well have discovered some of our equipment that is used in trauma scenes.

We went off air as soon as we knew that our security lines had been breached, so fortunately very little of this disruption has been transmitted to the viewers. The problem now is that almost all of our doctors and nurses are asking questions. And we have to decide whether this means the end of ER, or whether we can come up with a plausible explanation that they will all buy.

Steven Spielberg looked at the faces sat around the large executive's table. John Wells and Michael Crichton, on his left and right respectively, gazed straight ahead, or looked at the other faces. They both looked set in stone. Dr. Neal Baer, further down the table with Dr. Lance Gentile, looked a mixture of angry and despairing. Dr. Gentile himself looked exhausted – he'd been supervising all night previously and this was a huge blow to a normal person, let alone one who hadn't slept. A team of additional writers and producers sat at the far end of the table, at least three of them held their heads in their hands.

We don't have long to decide this, because right now we're having to run repeats and the network executives are pushing us for a decision. Before long we're going to be left with dead air and either way we're going to be broadcasting the results of our decision. So we're going to take an hour to talk it over, weigh it all up, discuss the options, and then we're going to take a vote between the truth and the best explanation we can offer.

He leant back in his seat and gestured to John Wells to begin the discussion, only moving forward to press the buzzer on an intercom system.

Sheila, can you bring us some coffee in here please?

______________________

Hey, Carter?

Do you know that girl who collapsed earlier? About 14, called Mary?

He shook his head, Nope. Was she one of the kids that mauled me?

Kids mauled you?

this gang just came in and pounced

I don't know. I'll ask her. She wanted to see you, but she's delusional. I'm waiting on a tox screen.

Okay Cleo.

Dr. Weaver?

Staff meeting now, in the lounge.

whose covering?

No-one, just get in here.

Carter raised an eyebrow, but followed her into the staff lounge. The room was stuffed with doctors and nurses, and Carter stood next to Mark, who was holding a mug of coffee.

What's going on? he whispered.

Some really weird stuff's been happening. I hear you were a victim of a lynch mob yourself.

you mean other stuff's been happening?

Yeah. We had this guy in trauma earlier, shot three times in the chest, practically flatlining and then he just sat up and started talking while he was still flatlining.

Carter's eyebrows shot upwards.

There was a sudden banging, and everyone fell quiet. Kerry stopped bashing the lockers with her crutch and gestured to everyone to sit down where they could.

I have to make this quick because we have no-one covering, but we've had some very unusual happenings this morning and I just wanted to inform you all that I will find the culprit, and whoever it is will be out of a job as soon as they are named. I want to know what's going on and why. We've had some serious disruption to the ER today and it will not be tolerated. I don't know whose smart idea it was to set up anaudio cable, she looked at Dave who was stood towards the back of the room, whirling the short end of the cable around, in Trauma One, and I don't know who thought it was fun to set a gang on Dr. Carter, but as soon as I do know you can guarantee that person will not be working in the Chicago region again.

On that note, Kerry left the room, causing a ripple of talk around the small lounge. Several people left to go and see patients. Mark stood next to his locker, and frowned.

You know, I really don't think this is some practical joke. I don't know what it is, but it's far too elaborate for that.

You think? An audio cable seems kinda high tech for your average surgi-lube joker

Yeah. I think it's bigger than that.

Similar conversations filled the room. Dave sauntered up to the two doctors. What do you reckon? Conspiracy by those freaks in management? I think they're keeping track of us, giving us patients to test our abilities. What if it's all fake, they just invent all these patients so they make the ultimate teaching hospital? Huh? You saw that cable, and that guy in the trauma, Dr. Greene. What if everyone we treat is just fine but they're actors? He twirled the cable he was still holding like a lasso.

Carter laughed. Yeah Dave, and no-one dies. It's all Never-never land. Should suit you just fine, you'll never grow up if that's the case. He laughed some more and looked out of the glass panel in the lounge door. The smile soon disappeared when he saw a young girl, who looked mildly familiar, outside. Before he could do anything, she swung around and saw him.

Uh ohhhuh ohh. He moved swiftly, looking desperately for a place to hide.

Carter? What's going on?

One of those kids from earliershe's still here and she just locked eyes on her target.

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but was beaten to it by the door crashing open and the predator hurling herself across the room.

Carter, Carter, Carter!!! she squealed.

Dave covered his mouth with one hand, trying to suppress the laughter. Carter, stuck in the path of the teenager, shot a despairing glance at him and Mark, before being grabbed andkissed loudly.

Dave could control himself no more and collapsed on the couch. John's got he managed to splutter out. Carter would have thrown him a look of distaste had he been free of being smothered – this girl was now patting his head, fingering his lapel, and talking what sounded a lot like baby language.

Ooh, look at your hair, it's all messed up, let me fix it! Oh you're so CUTE! Do that look, you know, where your eyes make you look like a puppy

Sensing that Carter was completely out of his depth and not enjoying the sudden bout of mothering from this strange child, Mark moved to extricate her, but not before she started waving a camera around. In fact, he couldn't grab her because the camera flash went off in his eyes and left purple dots everywhere for a few moments. But while she was trying to cut off the circulation to the lower half of Carter's body by issuing a vice-like hug around the waist, he reached out and pulled her away. Time for some of those well practised parenting skills, he thought, putting her down on the far side of the room and gesturing for Carter to move out of her line of vision.

Excuse me, but this isn't a public area – didn't you see the sign on the door?

Yes, but I wanted to see John!

But I'm afraid John doesn't know you. What's your name?

I'm Mary. And I know he doesn't know me, but I know him! I watch him everyday, me and my friends all do, we think he's sooo cute!

Just as he was beginning to recover, Dave collapsed again. Way to go John, you got a stalker!!

Carter, slightly infuriated by Dave's smart-ass comments, felt the need to question this point. What do you mean, you watch me everyday?!

On TV! I've been watching ever since ER started, when you started working here and when you graduated, and when you got stabbedoh that was so sad!! Poor Lucy!!

All three doctors jolted as this poured from Mary's mouth. Mark was the first to voice the question on everyone's minds.

Did you say you watched us on TV?

Yes! Everyday! I'm the biggest fan ever! She jumped up and down and squealed again, And I can't believe I'm actually here!!

Dave sat up, You mean we're on TV?? A slow grin formed across his face.

How can we be on TV? There aren't any cameras! Carter pointed out.

Mark took the girl by the shoulders and started to lead her out of the room. Turning back to the others, he said I think she's taken somethingI'll go and get a tox screen.

Carter called out, and Mark returned. She's already had one – she collapsed earlier and Cleo treated her. Said she was acting weird then tooasking for me. I swear, I've never seen her before. How can she know so much about me, aside from what she said?

Dave chimed in, what if she's telling the truth??

______________________

All those in favourall those againstwell, we obviously have a clear winner. I think we've made the best decision for all concerned. We just need to decide how to go about it. We've had another couple of calls from the network and they're only going to play repeats for one more hour. We need an action plan, fast. John, I'm going to let you co-ordinate this, I'll direct it and I want to cut all actors going in there. Just as a warning, I've been shown some pieces of tape from our cameras over the last few hours, and quite a few of our participants have been asking questions. We need to get this underway very soon, before they make any decisions of their own.

Mr. Spielberg had spoken, and having made the decision the room flurried into action. Writers gathered in a clump with John Wells, and the technical services people collaborated with the director. With ten minutes to spare, they all vacated the office and made their way over to a massive warehouse, covered with advertising boards.

_____________________

As Dave left the lounge in search of Cleo, sent on a mission to get those tox screen results, he almost wiped out Kerry, on her way in.

Whoa Chief. Watch out. Have you seen Dr. Finch?

Oh sorry, Malucci. Um, no, I don't think so

You okay, Chief?

Is Mark still in there?

He watched her go into the lounge, before turning back to the ER and heading off towards the trauma rooms.

In the lounge, Kerry sat down. Mark, something is definitely very odd. I'm not sure this is a joke anymore, I don't

Mark was stumped by this behaviour. What's wrong?

All our patients are gone. Every single one. And there are no more coming in – the MICN's dead.

Carter said, confused.

You heard me. Go and see. No-one there.

Wh... why?

I don't know, Mark! If I knew there wouldn't be a problem!

Dave burst into the room.

Everyone's gone! That girl, your stalker, I can't find her anywhere!

We know, Dr. Malucci.

I know all the patients are gone. And no, I don't know why.

Well, if it helps I got those results and that kid wasn't on anything – unless you count Pepsi.

Accounts for the hyperactivitybut not for what she said Mark stopped, and whipped around to look in the top corner of the room. Sure enough, one of the small closed circuit television cameras blinked at him. He squinted at it, peering nearer. Reaching up, he moved his hand back and forth. The camera followed the movement. He stretched, and grabbed the camera and yanked it right off the wall, leaving little fragmented wires dangling. Bringing it down closer, he examined the side. A sticker read Smithson Specialty Security Services'. Before he could do anything else, Dave grabbed the camera, and looked at the sticker. Without pausing, he began to scrape the edge of the sticky surface, peeling it back bit by bit. It ripped in places, but after persistence it came off to reveal a small badge, and, written in ultraviolet ink to prevent stealing, Actual Reality Productions'. The four doctors looked hard at it, and slowly raised their head to meet eyes. A short rapping at the door disturbed them.

______________________

And that's the truththe whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as they say!

John Wells laughed a little, but wasn't joined in his merriment. Before him sat Peter Benton, Kerry Weaver, Cleo Finch, Dave Malucci, Mark Greene, Luka Kovac, Elizabeth Corday, Lydia, Haleh, Malik, Yosh, Chuny, Lily, and other members of the emergency room staff at County Hospital. Behind him in a row sat Carol Hathaway, Susan Lewis, Doug Ross, Maggie Doyle, Anna DelAmico, and many other familiar faces from the past. The stunned looks on those in front were mirrored in the grim faces of the faces behind.

Peter Benton was the first to speak. So let me get this straight. You guys created this false environment and filmed us 24 hours a day, seven hours a week and televised it? For seven years? We've all been duped into thinking this is reality?

Mm hmm, yes.

Peter sat back, an ironic smile of disbelief playing on his lips. Luka raised one hand slightly, and questioned, this whole placemy home, everyone's homes and this part of the citywe're all actually in a warehouse? Even the weather? And the sky?

Yup. It's considered quite a feat of modern engineering and technology. We have at least one hundred people monitoring the conditions and settings at all times of the day and night. He smiled, obviously proud of this achievement, but again failed to receive any in return.

I thought that you'd like to hear from some of these guys, he gesticulated at the people behind him, let them tell you about it all, after all they were in your position. Susan?

I, ur, I'm not very good at this speaking to crowds stuff. But it is all true. I've really missed you all, but when I inadvertently found out what was going on hereI couldn't stay. It was when I went out to follow baby Suzie, I couldn't get out. Well, I did get out, but I didn't understand it, I wasn't where I thought I was. And then I met Stevenhe explained it all and I couldn't really handle it and had to leave. I'm sorry. I should have said. But I couldn't, I was sworn to secrecy She glanced at John Wells and sat down again.

Same here, that path to destruction I took was because I found out what was going on here. Doug Ross spoke up. I wouldn't have left for any other reason. I never would have guessed this wasn't what it seemed if one of the kids hadn't let something slip, one of the kids I was treating. I know you guys must be so angry, that's how I felt. I still am, I don't think it's right and I don't think it's worth it for TV. But once I was out, I couldn't come back and tell you to get out. I only told Carol, because I could phone her and leave messages. That got cut off after a while, so I tried writing. You'd never understand how difficult it was to get in herethis whole place is a giant warehouse, security guards everywhere. Gotta give full marks to those kids who got in here today, cause I sure as hell couldn't have done it.

Well, what I want to know, Haleh got up, looking menacingly at the producer, is what are we going to do now?? We've been believing that this is our life for seven years now! Seven years! And now you tell us we were just some TV show and throw us back out into whatever is the real world! What are you going to do about it?

There was some awkward shuffling, and Steven Spielberg emerged from the rear of the room. Perhaps I'd better take this one, John.

Mr. Wells nodded, and moved out of the way.

This show you've been involved in has been the most successful television show in the history of the world. It's has been ground breaking, and won hundreds of awards. You never knew it, but you have been part of something so huge that it is unbelievable. And we are all too aware that it is going to be very difficult when you remove yourself from this scenario. We've tried different ways of dealing with it when each of your co-workers here moved on, but whatever we do there will be problems. Your first few months will be the toughest because everyone will want a piece of you. All the talk shows, all the reporters, all the photographers, all the filmmakers, all the advertising companies. You can make your own decisions about those things. But we will provide you with homes in secret locations, more than one if those who aren't welcome locate your whereabouts. You'll be issued a percentage of what was made by this television show, your show, as a salary that should mean that you won't need to work for at least five years. We will provide security, bodyguards for the first six months. Any payments, misdemeanours, anything that happened inside the confines of this setting, will be settled, unless they are more advanced personal problems, of course. We know we're throwing you out into the deep end, so I'm willing to help you all I can.

His audience were silenced. Stunned still, shocked and probably upset, hurt, confused and angry. But they were silent. And that was all that mattered to the executives; after all they had their own lives to think of. An angry, baying mob of irate doctors with syringes, defibrillators, scalpels and god knows what other items that could cause a great deal of pain was not what they needed. Anxious to get away, the director took his place quickly, one more time.

We'll keep this setopen for you for the rest of this week. So you can get ready to move out. I'll send people in to help, and lawyers and financial advisors for you. Please, if there are any problems, let me know. Above all, thank you. Thank you.

__________________________________________________

©Triggersaurus 2001

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