Lockley comes into her quarters and tuns on the Babcom. Flips through the Rebo and Zooty marathon, "Sons of the Burning Sands," etc. Finally comes to PBS. She looks at it a moment and says, "Well, at least it's not Rebo and Zooty."

The carmera pans over her shoulder and we see -

Announcer - And we wish to introduce that Welsh prodigy, Cywm Fyker.. er Fusheri... ah - forget it. Cywm, come on out!

Cywm - (Very huffy) - Why do you English persist in the myth that Welsh names are difficult to pronounce. It's very simple. The double 'f' is pronounced as an 's'. That's no so difficult is it? Esss. They the 'kkyk' is silent. A simple enough rule. 'Kkyk' is silent. No sound. Even you can make no sound, can't you. Then an 'm'. What's so hard about an 'm'? Emmm. Now there's a perfectly simple 'uert'. That's pronounced as an 'i'. Eye. Now this is tricky I'll grant you, because here it's followed by a 'y', so it's a short 'i'. And then the 'y' at the end. Why that's simple English. We Welsh wouldn't think up such a possibility. That's a 'thorn', which you louts of modern English have corrupted into a 'y'. So it's pronounced as a 'th'. So my last name is very simple. Ffkkykmuerty - Smith. What's so difficult about that?

A - Well, Mr. Smith...

C - Not "Smith" ... "Smith". Don't you even listen to yourself?

A - Ah. Yes...

C - I am a poet. Words have meaning. Words sing. If you listen to them, words will tell you about yourself.

A - Ah, yes, well. That's what we want to talk about. Your poems speak to the new century. The new man and woman. Tell us what they have to say.

C - Listen to them. Then you tell me what they have to say. Here's my award winning poem from the New New York City Festival of Oral Arts. It's call "Life"

Cywm declaims:

LIFE

Sex
Mud

A - Ah..

C - Ah!!! That's all that you have to say? Ah? The award winning poem and all you can say is, "Ah." He takes out a cigarette, lights up and blows smoke in the announcers face.

A - Well, I'm just awed by its simplicity, the subtle nuancing. It's sparse, bold yet complex, layered and delicate.

C - It is? Er...yes, it is, isn't it.

A - May I ask what its source was?

C - Source?

A - Perhaps inspiration is a better word. How did the ephemeral muse come to move you?

C - You mean, why did I write it?

A - Just so.

C - Well, I was having a little chat with my tax accountant and the subject of deductible business expenses came up. I'm an artist, a writer, but I also grossed over $1,000,000 credits last year so I'm also a fairly respectable small business in my own right, or write as the case may be.

A - Really.

C - Yes. In your own words, "Just so." Anyway, since I make my living as a writer, and I write about my experiences, then the money that I spend to have those experiences is an expense that I can deduct to offset my income from that writing. Do you see?

A - Ah.

C - Ah, indeed. Verily, "Ah!" So, I decided to cover all my bases. Life - what must I spend to experience Life? It turns out that just about every credit that I spend is used in experiencing Life. So it turns out that while I grossed over $1,000,000 credits last year, my net income was considerably less.

A - And the 'sex'?

C - Oh, I just wanted to make certain that that was covered. You know, diner out, gewgaws and trinkets, paying the odd bit of back rent for some poor dear who's gotten a bit behind. It can add up when you're as popular as I am.

A - I see. And the 'mud'?

C - Mud is sort of wet dirt.

A - I know that. What I mean is, why is the word 'mud' in the poem.

C - Well why don't you just say what you mean. It's there because I'd just bought a bit of Florida seaside property. So, you know, I wanted to be sure that that was deductible. It really helped tremendously in reducing my taxes, don't you know?.

A - Actually, I don't know. Last year the tax man gonged me for over 50% of each credit that I earned.

C - Well, that's why I'm an acclaimed genius and you're just a staff announcer.

A - I try to save a bit for retirement. The General Retirement Fund is a joke. You pay in and pay in year after year and year after year it runs a deficit. If they'd just give me the money I could invest it in a mutual fund and at least have the principle plus some interest.

C - Yes, well, you'd better start acquiring a taste for cat food. No pate foi gros for you.

A - And then there's the kids' college funds. Tuition is going up faster than inflation. I'm further behind in what I'll eventually owe than when I started. They won't be able to get into any good college. Maybe two years of community
college at best. If I want to send them to a four year college I'll have to bankrupt myself. I'm too old to start over now. They'll end up in menial jobs, stuck in the under class.

C- Well, I ask you. How much education does it take to do your job? Smile blandly and read your cue cards. What does that take?

A - I'll have you know that I have a double Ph.D. in literature and philosophy.

C - And may that philosophy console you. I dropped out of high school and I have gobs of money. The more I spend, the fewer taxes I pay, while you'll end up in a poverty stricken old age.

A - It's just not fair!!

C - Life's not fair. Get over it. You know, this little chat has inspired me. He draws on his cigarette and declaims:

The Good Life

L.A.
Fast cars
Sex (aside, I've got to make sure that I put that bit in)

He starts coughing - HACK, HACK, HACK.
Oh, yes, that's a good bit. Let's see, what do we have?

THE GOOD LIFE

L.A.
Fast cars
Sex
HACK, HACK, HACK

Now we need a big finish.

A - No!! You semi-literate cretin. He starts choking Cywm.

C - That's it.

Death!

Producer (Voice over) Cut!!! Cut away. Roll another tape. What have we got?

The screen goes black while the noise of a terrific struggle goes on.

C (VO) - HACK, gasp! This covers everything. Now even my funeral will be tax deductible.

Engineer (VO) Well, we've got this.

P (VO) - Roll it.

The sound dies, the screen flickers and then we see:

Cut to a Minbari, wearing a three lobed chef's hat and an apron at a little counter cum stovetop.

W - Hi, I'm Walko, worker caste. Suppose you wake up one morning and you have to cook breakfast for a quarter of million humans and aliens, all alone in space. What do you do? Well, I have a little something that I like to call "Omelet Surprise." You'll want to copy down these measurements and reduce them proportionately to your family's size. First, you take 10,000 dozen eggs.

In the background we see flunkiers driving forklifts with pallets stacked to the ceiling with egg cartons. Pretty soon Walko is completely surrounded by egg cartons.

W - Well, that certainly is a lot of eggs. He looks into the camera and winks. I guess that I'd better get cracking...

Lochley - Babcom unit off. Suspend internal programs until the Robo and Zooty marathon is over.