Roll credits. Establishing shot of Zocalo. The usual suspects are busily buying and selling, lurking, and generally being sinister. A Narn with his eye bandaged walks by. Londo Mollari arrives on Mr. Garabaldi's motorcycle. He parks the motorcycle by the wall and enters the Zocalo. Londo looks up at the list on the wall. It reads:

OUTER HULL: HARD VACCUUM
OCCASIONAL MICROMETEORITE
IMPACTS.

INNER HULL: PRESTRESSED DURANIUM. SENSOR ARRAY.
DEFENSE GRID.

ULTRAVIOLET LEVEL: HYDROPONIC GARDEN
.
VIOLET LEVEL: LEATHER GOODS

PURPLE LEVEL : SEASON 5 COMPLAINTS

BLUE LEVEL: LOCKLEY COMPLAINTS

GREEN LEVEL: ASTEROID HALL - ROCKS
SHALES ALLUVIAL DEPOSITS
FELSPAR CARPATHIANS
ANDES URALS
HORTAS EXCALBIANS PNUME
MINING REQUISITES
ATOM-SPLITTING SERVICE


PEA-GREEN LEVEL: OPTIC INJURIES HALL
SECRETS OF THE SOUL

YELLOW LEVEL: COSMETICS
JEWELERY
ELECTRICAL
SATIRE

ORANGE LEVEL: SEASON ONE COMPLAINTS.

RED LEVEL: TABLEWARE
KITCHEN GOODS
SOFT FURNISHINGS
HARD FURNISHINGS
ROCK-HARD FURNISHINGS

BROWN LEVEL: LURKERS
TELEPATHS
ALIEN HEALING DEVICES
PLOT COMPLICATIONS
BIO-ARMOR

GREY LEVEL: DANGEROUS GASES
VIRUSES
CONTAGIOUS DISEASES
CLOWN HEADS
CULTISTS
ZARGS

Londo starts walking among the shops. Cut to the armaments stall. A tall woman in a blue coverall is standing by counter holding a large cylinder with a rose attachment.

Ripley: Yes this looks the sort of thing. May I just try it?

Assistant: Certainly, madam.

Ripley presses button and a sheet of flame shoots out across the hall

Ripley: Oh! Sorry! So sorry! (she is happy though) Yes that's fine.

Assistant: Is that on account, madam?

Ripley: Yes.

Londo walks by, watching with interest but not much concern, passing a customer whose back is on fire but who has not noticed. He approaches a counter with a sign saying "Narn Counter". He stands by the apparently empty counter for one moment, then rings a bell.

Londo: Hello? Hello?

A Vorlon with an unconvincing Al Bester mask pulled over the top of its encounter suit appears from below the other side of the counter and gesticulates at him making a strange noise. This soon stops.

Vorlon: Oh, I'm terribly sorry... (he takes off the mask to reveal Ambassador Kosh) I thought you were someone else.

Londo: Oh I see, yes.

Kosh: I'm sorry sir, can I help you?

Londo: Yes, yes, as a matter of fact you can, actually I was interested in the possibility... of purchasing one of your ... can I ask who you thought I was?

Kosh: What?

Londo: Who did you think I was... just then... when you thought I was somebody.

Kosh: Oh, it's no one you'd know, sir.

Londo: Well I might know him.

Kosh: It's possible, obviously, but I think it's really unlikely.

Londo: Well, I know quite a lot...

Kosh: Irrelevant...

Londo: Why, is he very evolved?

Kosh: Impudent!

Londo: Is he a Vorlon or something?

Kosh: Oh, no, not at all.

Londo: Well look, this is very easy to settle. What is his name?

Kosh: What?

Londo: Who is he?

Kosh: He has always been here.

Londo: So that makes him regular cast, yes?

Kosh: Michael Garabaldi.

Londo: Who?

Kosh: Michael Garabaldi.

Londo: I see.

Kosh: Do you know him, sir?

Londo: Er ... Michael Garabaldi. Michael Garabaldi...

Kosh: You don't.

Londo: Well, I don't remember the name.

Kosh: I think you would remember him, sir.

Londo: Why do you say that?

Kosh: Well, would you remember a human five foot ten inches high, fortyish, and he's got a PPG scar in the middle of his back and absolutely no hair?

Londo: What, none at all?

Kosh: Not a scrap.

Londo: ... oh, I think I do remember somebody like that...We used to drink Bravari together...Or I drank Bravari, he used to drink this horrible Earther beverage, I think he called it "Surge"...

Kosh: Well, that's not Michael Garabaldi.

Londo: What?

Kosh: He's a small man about this high with a high-pitched voice.

Londo: Right, I'm not going to buy a Narn from you now.

Kosh: (distressed) Oh, no, please.

Londo: No. You've not been properly trained. I demand another assistant.

Kosh: Oh, no, come on... please...

Londo: No, I want another assistant.

Kosh: All right! I'll get another assistant. (he disappears behind a curtain)

Londo: Thank you.

Kosh reappears with a long mandarin-style Chinese moustache.

Kosh: (high-pitched voice) Hello sir, can I help you, sir?

Londo: No, I want a different assistant.

Kosh: I am sir, I'm Mr Abanazar, sir.

Londo: Don't be silly.

Kosh: (normal voice) Oh no, please please please let me help you...

Londo: No! I want another assistant.

Kosh: Oh, no, come on, please...

Londo: If you don't give me another assistant...

Kosh: No, no, I'll be very good, sir, really. (He becomes exaggeratedly polite) Good morning, sir... how are you, sir... bit parky outside today... isn't it, sir... ? A very nice suit you've got there, sir... you had a very close shave this morning, sir...

Londo: Right I'm going.

Kosh: No, no, please... (he takes off his moustache) I'll get another assistant... (he rings the bell on the counter.)

After a pause, very slowly indeed an identical mask to the first appears over the top of the counter right next to Kosh, making the same noise very quietly. Kosh sees him, starts and nudges him hard.

Second Vorlon: Woooooo ....ooooooo...

Kosh: It's not him!

The second Vorlon makes a disappointed noise and disappears below.

Londo: (pointing over the counter at the disappeared Vorlon) I don't want him!

Kosh: Oh please, give him a chance!

Londo: No!

Second Vorlon: (appearing from below counter without a mask, looking resplendent and evil; it is, in fact, Ambassador Ulkesh) Yes, sir, can I be of any assistance?

Londo: Oh no, come on, don't try that!

Ulkesh: I'm sorry, sir... try what?

Londo: You know perfectly well what I mean.

Ulkesh: I'm afraid I don't, sir.

Londo: You were down behind there with a silly mask on going wooo-ooo...

Ulkesh: I don't think I was, sir.

Londo: All right, get the manager.

Ulkesh: There seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding, sir.

Londo: Manager!

Kosh: This is the manager, sir.

Londo: What?

Ulkesh: (in a silly voice) Yes, I'm the manager.

Londo: Manager! (he keeps calling)

Ulkesh: It's a smashing store this, I can't recommend it too highly, well-lit, rat-free. It's a joy to manage. Oh yes, the freshest spoo in the sector, second floor, third floor Bravari, Narns here, monitors and PPGs over there, behind them our open-air restraunt closes at six...

Kosh: (nudging him) Quick!

They both disappear under the counter. The real manager, Jonas, arrives and presents himself to Londo.

Jonas: Yes, sir? What do you want, sir?

Londo: (noticing the "manager" badge on his lapel) Yes, I want to complain about the Vorlons on this counter.

Jonas: I'm sorry to hear that, sir, which ones?

Londo: Well, they're hiding now.

Jonas: Gone beyond the Rim, have they, sir?

Londo: They're hiding, down there behind the counter.

Jonas: I see, sir. (he goes round counter, looks, but obviously can't see them; Londo goes round to join in the search)... well... there's nobody down here, sir.

Londo: They must have crawled through here, and made their escape through "Soft Toys".

Jonas: Yes, of course.

Londo: They were wearing masks and making silly noises and one of them pretended to be the manager. He spoke like this.. (he does an impression)

Jonas: Ah! I think I've got it, sir, I think I've got it! It's "the Day of the Dead".

Londo: "The Day of the Dead"?

Jonas: Yes, you know, for charity, sir.

Londo: Oh! I see. Some local alien species?

Jonas: No, no it's the station's Day of the Dead.

Londo: The station's Day of the Dead?

Jonas: Yes. The regular cast don't join in much - it's for the guest stars really...

Londo: It's not very good for business is it?

Jonas: Oh, It's for charity, sir. People are awfully good about it, you know. (he rattles a collecting tin)

Londo: Yes, yes, of course. (he puts a coin in)

Jonas: Right, sir, I'll get you a senior assistant - Narns, was it?

Londo: Yes, please.

Jonas: (calling) Mr Kaltu? (Mr Kaltu approaches immediately; he is clearly Kosh with very bad short crew-cut wig on) Could you look after this gentleman, Mr Kaltu?

Londo: I don't want him!

Kosh: Oh please! Give me a chance!

Londo: No!

Jonas: All right - Mr Morden!

Morden: Yes - good morning, sir - can I help you?

Londo: Yes, please, I'm interested in buying a Narn.

Morden: Ah yes - and what price were you thinking of paying, sir?

Londo: Oh, well, I hadn't actually got as far as that.

Morden: Well sir, they start about half a ducat. but they can go as high as three ducats or even three and a half ducats for a champion - inflation I'm afraid...

Londo: Well, I should think one about one and a half ducats, please.

Morden: Ah yes, well you should get a very serviceable little alien for that, sir. Quite frankly the half ducat ones are a bit on the mangy side ... What length was sir thinking of?

Londo: Oh ... medium?

Morden: Medium. Medium. Here we are, sir. (he tips some Narns - which we can't see - out into a special ring on counter) That one there is a G'Dan, and that one there is a Na'Toth...bitch I think ... and that one killing the Drazi is a Kahree.

Londo: That's a nice one.

Morden: Let's see how you get on with him, eh? (he puts it on Londo's hand) Ah yes, he likes you. He's taken to you.

Londo: What do you feed them on?

Morden: Spoo.

Londo: Spoo?

Morden: I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. No, you don't feed them at all.

Londo: Well, what do they live on?

Morden: They don't. They die.

Londo: They die?

Morden: Well of course they do, if you don't feed them.

Londo: I don't understand.

Morden: You let them die, then you buy another one. It's much cheaper than feeding them and that way you have a constant variety of little bodyguards.

Londo: Oh, I see.

Morden: That's the advantage of owning a Narn.

Londo: Right, well I'll take this one. Oh dear, I've dropped it...

Morden: Never mind. Here's another one.

Londo: Is there anything else I'll need?

Morden: Yes, sir - you'll need a Narn house. (he produces a birdcage) This is the model we recommend, sir.

Londo: Won't he get out of there?

Hartford: Yes.

Londo: Well what's the point of having the cage?

Morden: Everyone needs a headquarters, sir, a place to call one's own? And then some pieces of cage furniture which will keep him entertained. (he produces microscopic things) Here's a Narn-wheel, Narn-swing, and a stock restraint that he can break and wreak havok, that's a little trick he can learn.

Londo: Will he live long enough?

Morden: Not really, no, but it's best to have one just in case, and here's a two-way radio he can play with... and of course you'll need the book. (he produces a massive-looking book, thoughtlessly slams it down where the Narns were, then hurriedly brushes them away)

Chris: The book?

Morden: Yes, the Book of G'Quann.

Londo: (looking unsure) Yes...

Morden: So, sir, that is, if I may say so, one hundred and eighty-four credits one and a half ducats, sir.

Londo: Will you take a letter of credit from the First Republican Bank of Centauri Prime?

Morden: Yes, sir, if you don't mind leaving a blood-sample, and a piece of skin off the back of the scalp just here, sir ... (indicates a point behind his ear) sorry ... it's just for identification. You can't be too careful. (he hands him a little knife and some cotton wool)

Londo: Oh, well I think I'll put it on account.

Morden: I should, sir... much less painful. Anyway sir, you know what they say about a Narn. A friend for life, eh? Well, a friend for his life anyway... (Morden loads the large cage, furniture, two-way radio and the Book of G'Quann into a huge box; with some difficulty he finds the Narn; he picks it up carefully) His name is Marcus. (he drops him in the big box and pushes it across the counter; the box has on one side, in large letters "live Narn: handle with care "; it has breathing holes in it) If the little Kahree should go to an early grave, sir, give us a ring and we'll stick a few in an envelope, all right?

Londo: Thanks very much indeed.

Morden: Not at all, thank you, Mr Garabali.

Londo turns sharply. Kosh comes quickly up to Morden.

Kosh: Sssssshh!

Londo: What did you say?

Morden: I said thank you, Mr Garabaldi...

Kosh: It's not him.

Morden: Oh!

Londo: Why did you say I was Mr Garabaldi?

Morden: (innocently) Who?

Kosh: No, he didn't say that.

Londo: Yes he did. I heard him say "Thank you, Mr Garabaldi".

Kosh: Oh, no, no - he said "You're a hairy baldy".

Londo: What?

Morden: Your hairstyle. Goodbye. Goodbye. (waves pointedly)

Londo: (leaving the counter) I don't care who Michael Garabaldi is!

Londo passes a shop area labelled "The Paisley Counter" where two customers are talking to mirrors in thick Drazi accents. Londo moves on to turbolift. A little old lady passes, oblivious to the fact that her shopping trolley is smouldering. The lady passes and Londo is about to enter.

BabCom: Will Mr Michael Garabaldi please report to C&C... I'll repeat that... (Londo wheels round and listens) Will Mr Nigel Wallagundi please report to C&C.

Londo narrows his eyes suspiciously and gets into the lift cautiously.