*sighs* well... time to let out the Oompa Loompas again...

HK: There is that.
___________________

Maggie did her best to appear interested in what her group's tour guide was talking about. Hadn't "The Six Million Dollar Man" been off the air long enough to warrant a new demonstration of blue-screen technology? Maybe on this world it hadn't. Still, the tour was just a way to get onto the studio lot. Her real interest was in finding Rickman, who they'd managed to track to the studios mostly by dumb luck. As the tour group was making it's way back toward the tram, she managed to slip away and head for the sound stage areas. Keeping to the shadows, she checked the timer, 04:23:56. That didn't give her much time. She hadn't been with the group long, and she couldn't afford to have Quinn or that bitch Wade think she'd ditched them. As much as she'd prefer to work this alone, there was just too much about sliding that she hadn't learned yet.

Maggie wasn't in this for laughs, but she couldn't help but chuckle at the way she'd ended up here on her own, with the others waiting for her at the hotel. Apparently Quinn, Wade and Rembrandt had doubles here that were semi-famous. No so much that they got mobbed everywhere they went in public, but when they'd tried to get into the studio, they'd been "recognized" and had to take off before calling more attention to them selves. Maggie, on the other hand, hadn't been noticed. As she was congratulating herself for ditching, at least temporarily, the other sliders, she was knocked to the ground.

Mark Stephenson was not having a good day. He'd already had to replace several items damaged in shooting that morning, and he was past due on the set with the repaired props. He also was not particularly watching where he was going, having made this particular trek from workshop to stage often enough to do it blindfolded. He was extremely surprised, then, to find himself on the ground next to a woman and the contents of his prop box scattered about. "I'm, sorry," he said as he started to gather his props. "I don't usually see anyone else back this way."

Maggie replied with a quick, "it's okay," and helped Mark finish retrieving his things before standing up and dusting herself off.

Mark noticed that she looked nervous, more so than just from running into him, he then noticed that she wasn't wearing an ID badge. "Can I help you with something? Did you lose your tour group maybe?"

"Yes, that's it. I must have taken a wrong turn. It was just so fascinating that I didn't follow the group as well as I should have," Maggie stammered, hoping she wouldn't have to talk her way past security.

"That's okay. Just take a left past that next building and go straight until you run into another group. Well, here, I'll show you." Obviously, it wasn't often that Mark had the attention of a woman, as he insisted on walking her all the way back to the tour route. He then ran toward the sound stage, where the director was no doubt screaming for his props, and Mark's head.

Four hours and twenty minutes later....

Wade paced in the hotel room and checked the cheap alarm clock/radio for what seemed like the millionth time. "We should never have let her take the timer." Losing Max was hard enough, but to now be stuck with her..."

"She'll be here," Quinn replied, taking one more desperate glance out the window. "She has to be."

Rembrandt sighed and asked, "who're you trying to convince, Q-Ball? Us or yourself?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey!... Why is *she* here?"
"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Deera."
"Quinn, we... we missed the slide."
"I know, thanks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A key turned in the lock and Maggie hurriedly entered the room.

"Where have you been?" demanded Wade.

Maggie retorted, "stuck on the damn backstage tour! Who knew it could take that long to see a cheesy recreation of 'Jaws'?

"You've got the timer?" asked Quinn.

"Of course."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's the police."
"Can we go back that way?"
"Not unless you want to be tonight's main course."
"Better slide from here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn's face paled. "We've got a problem, folks. The timer's gone haywire."
"What do you mean, 'haywire'?," Q-Ball?
"What'd you do to the timer, Maggie?" accused Wade.
"Nothing, I swear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where'd you get that?"
"It's the architect's escape plan."
"Why is it counting down on its own world?"
"I have no idea, Professor. Maybe the architect hadn't planned on activating it manually. Just pray that it works."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I accidentally dropped it when some creepy little guy ran into me, but I know it's been dropped before," Maggie explained."

Quinn quickly started to open the timer casing. "It's counting down, but not properly. We've only got a few seconds before it *should* activate. I hope I can fix it in time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come with us."
"My work is here, I can't. And you were right -- I have to put an end to these experiments."
"That thing is right on top of us."
"Thank you for everything."
"Good luck. I'll try and delay the police."
"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Man, you gotta get that thing fixed and now!" implored Rembrandt.
"I'm working on it, damnit, but it's not opening right, either."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are we gonna make it to the next world? This thing is still reading thirteen hours."
"We'll just have to activate it early."
"Well, that means corrupting the data. That means we'll be back to random sliding."
"Who.. who cares? Look -- just get us out of here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There!" exclaimed Quinn, "it's open..... What the Hell? This looks like a remote control!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lightning bolts arced from the timer's twin terminals and ripped a whole in the fabric of space. "What the.." was all any of the four could manage before being sucked into to the swirling vortex. The ride through the wormhole was like nothing any of them had ever experienced. Moments later, they were spit out onto the ground of a different world.

"Jerry, what just happened?"
"I wish I knew, Brie. I think we just slid. John, are you okay?"
"Ugh. I may never be okay. Cleavant landed on me."
"You're worried about a few bruises? Where the Hell are we?"
_______________________

Mychand: My first game back and you come up with this?

DMD: Sorry, it's been floating around in my brain for over a year now.

MSR: I'm going to make you pay, you do understand that.

R317: Ah, time for some major-league heckling!

DMD: <tries to escape, only to be chased back in by an Oompa Loompa> Ahhhhh!!! Help!

RobinBunchanumbers: Not a chance, you've earned every bit of this.

SL4: Hey, no one even mentioned me. Uncool, IT'S IN MY CONTRACT!

TM: Uh... we're almost out of booze...

“My precious… my precious…” he murmured, soothed by it's presence. Picking it up he cooed, “No one will have you except me.”

~*~*~*~

Jerry woke up and saw a cockroach in his trailer. He picked it up and muttered, “You're my friend, aren't you?” He screamed at the cockroach for several minutes then smashed it for not replying that it was his friend.

~*~*~*~

Someone screamed “MacGyver!” after stopping on SG1 after flipping through the channels. During this time, the viewer was so pissed whenever MacGyver used a gun. On the tenth time, the viewer commenced in ripping every Mac poster off the wall. On the thirteenth time, the viewer began yelling in an evil voice, “MaaaacccGyver, I've got a camera, prepare to die.”

~*~*~*~

Just as a limo turned the corner, the westside part of the Ivory Towers Hotel came crashing down.
~*~*~*~

“Life... is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable, because all you get back is another box of chocolates. You're stuck with this undefinable whipped-mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there's nothing else left to eat. Sure, once in a while, there's a peanut butter cup, or an English toffee. But they're gone too fast, the taste is fleeting. So you end up with nothing but broken bits, filled with hardened jelly and teeth-crunching nuts, and if you're desperate enough to eat those, all you've got left is a... is an empty box... filled with useless, brown paper wrappers.”

~*~*~*~
A homeless man guarded his bag of nickels with fervor murmuring his mantra incessantly “Go with it. Go with it. Go…”

~*~*~*~

During Duck Season, two hunters went into the woods. Bullets flew. The duck was dead and he wore hunter's orange.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maggie leaned over Quinn, her ample cleavage right at Quinn's eyelevel.

Looking upward from his work, “Hey I need…” He spied several items that didn't belong there and gritted his teeth. “Maggie! What did I tell you about that?”

Maggie looked down. “Who pUT that THere? THANks. I alMOst fORgOt.” She pulled out a small Phillips screwdriver, two cellphones and several business cards and dumped them on top of the table.

“Dammit Maggie! I'm working here!”

“SoRRY!”

“Yes, the brain has succumbed to silicone poisoning,” commented Wade as she pulled Remmy aside. “She can't even enunciate the syllables correctly.”

Remmy allowed her to drag him across the room. “Girl, will you stop that? We need to band together not fight each other.”

“I need to clear my head. I'm going for a walk! Dammit Maggie, it's not our timer!” Quinn got up and started for the door. “No one goes anywhere!”

“BuT QuINN! I gOt a ParT on ANa… ANa… uh… dAMMit… SNAke!”

Several knocks on the door saved Quinn from giving a sarcastic reply. He answered it with a smile.

“Hey Bro! I've been looking for you!” A gawky tall blond man made his way into the room. Looking at the others, he said, “Hey Sabrina and Cleavant and uh…” He continued to stare at Maggie's twins with his mouth opened.

“I have a brother?” muttered a surprised Quinn as he closed the door behind this stranger.

Maggie moved breaking his attention. “Jerry, come on! I played that Officer and Kit. Don't tell me you forgot already. Sheesh. You gotta stop with the barhopping. By the way, Sarah Michelle said to stop calling her. You know you shouldn't mess with Buffy.”

Quinn mumbled, “Bro, can we talk about this later? I'm late for… uh… casting call.”

The man smiled, “I'm sure you're going to get that part on 'Scream 2'. Any chance you can get me a cameo? Please!” His puppy dog face came into view.

“I'll see what I can do.” Quinn gave a weak smile.

“Thanks Bro! I knew I could trust you. Later.” He walked back to the door then looked back at Maggie. “Don't I know you from somewhere?”

Maggie sighed. “UP hERe. STOp loOKIng aT tHEm. My nAMe's MAgGIE.”

He continued to stare, “Yeah, I know you. Before I forget.” He pulled out two cellphones and threw them at Remmy and Wade.

“They're waiting for your calls. Sabrina someone from 'Sports Night' wants to talk to you and Cleavant it's your music producer wondering when you're going to stop acting and go back to singing.”

“Maggie, want to go out later?” He gushed with charm.

“I'll gEt BAck tO yOu. LatER… uh… WhAT's yOUr NaMe?”

“Charlie. Call me!” He smiled back as he threw her his business card.

Walking back, he whispered to Quinn. “God, she was awesome in 'Vivid' Can I borrow your spacesuit?” Chicks dig the spacesuit.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Quinn pushed him toward the door. “Let's go! Bye guys!”

Maggie turned on the TV as Wade and Remmy stared at each other mouthing, “Brothers?”

The narrator began, “What if you found a portal to a parallel universe?”

Wade and Remmy snapped their attention to the tv.

“What if you could slide into a thousand different worlds where it's the same year and you're the same person,
but everything else is different? And what if you couldn't find your way home?”

“That's Quinn's voice!” The trio exclaimed in surprise.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jerry, Cleavant, John and Sabrina slowly took in their surroundings. The setting sun was slowly drifting behind the unfamiliar forest the quartet had appeared in. Soon the darkness would settle and request their attention.

“Okay, who spiked the coffee again?” commented Brie as she pulled her

“We're not in Kansas anymore,” remarked Cleavant as he helped John up.

Jerry retorted, “I didn't do it… this time. Guys, I think we really slid or this is one hell of an illusion.”

“Or delusion,” added John remembering the time he thought one of the Fox executives was someone else at the party. “I swear if they kill Arturo off, they'll have hell from the fans.”

“Wait a minute. You know something we don't know?” questioned Jerry as he saw headlights from a passing car.

Inside the car, a blonde haired woman stared outside and did a double take. “Wait, I know them! Stop the car!”

“What do you mean?” asked the hot looking blonde guy sitting next to her. Turning to her, he asked, “How?”

The driver looked at the couple in the backseat via the rearview mirror. Rolling his eyes he began to mutter once again, “Make up your mind…”

“STOP!” she yelped as her husband tried to calm her once again.

“Honey, please, it's not good…” He stopped nagging as he saw her sit transfixed, watching the people they had just passed.

The driver pulled over and waited for the three men and little lady to approach the car. “You better know what you're doing…”

“WhooHoooo!” cried Cleavant as he looked up into the sky. “Thank you!”

Brie was smiling and hugging John. “I knew they'd stop!”

Jerry was perplexed, thinking over the stare the woman had given him as they passed. “Guys, she might be a crazed fan. Did you see the look on her face?”

John started rubbing his stomach, “I hope there's food nearby. It's all in your mind, Jerry.”

Jerry shrugged, trying to shrug off the weird feeling. “I wonder what Charlie's doing now…”

The quartet walked toward the car, hoping that they were saved.

“Sweetheart, please, we have to get to the hospital,” the young man implored as the four people neared the car.

“We will…” She doubled over in pain, once again.

“The baby?” he asked as he held her. “We got to go now!”

The driver checked the police scanner. “He's right, you two need medical attention ASAP!”

“Please, honey, the baby, our baby girl, please, we can't lose another child like this again…”

She mumbled through gritted teeth, “Not yet, that's Quinn… wait for them.”

“Okay, but we're going straight to the hospital.” He wiped the sweat from her forehead onto her yellow sleeve.

Suddenly she went limp in his arms for the third time. “LOOOOGGGAAANNNN!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

SL4 looked up and groaned. “I can't believe you had Logan in this story.”

She laughed. “Hey, no Logan and Grimace hookup in the previous one. Might not have on here, but hey, it's Logan!”

LS rolled her eyes as she read the passage. “I think you could have written something better.”

DMD strolled by. “Did she mess it up that bad?”

Recall chuckled as he went for a drink. “Glad I'm not next. That was way over the top with the Maggie speech.”

“Hey, I am!” Robin exclaimed as she took an ice tea from TM.

“Want me to make it a double?” he quipped.

Logan
*Giving props to Tf for input about the behind the scenes.*

Or at least, that was her intention. What really happened was more like this… With her depth perception completely gone, Robin grossly misjudged the position of the chair and managed to fall flat on the floor, knocking her head on the table on the way down, rendering her unconscious.

****

“A paperless toilet? How would you use a… never mind,” the Rembrandt on the TV said. The Rembrandt sitting in front of the TV just stared, along with his fellow sliders.

“It's us,” Wade said in bewilderment. “Only… not us. Actors playing us.”

“They made a television show about us on this world!” Quinn concluded, boy genius that he is. "How did they manage to find actors that looked just like us?"

“Why aren't I on this show? They put the fat guy on the show instead of ME?” Maggie pouted.

“Maggie, don't you get it? This happened to us! We lived this… this episode!” Rembrandt told her. “That's the world where we met Q-Ball's female double, Logan St. Clair. A set of our doubles must have slid into this world and sold their stories to Fox.”

Quinn's eyes drifted toward the table where he had the timer pieces laid out. “Maggie! When you were looking for Rickman… which studio were you in?”

“Fox,” Maggie replied. “You don't think…?”

“That guy you ran into, he dropped his props, and you dropped the timer…” Rembrandt said, putting the pieces together.

“You weren't by any chance near the SLIDERS soundstage, were you, Maggie?” Quinn asked her with furrowed brow.

“I… I didn't notice… It could have been… I guess,” Maggie stammered. The other three sliders were giving her looks that indicated their state of "somewhat ticked off-ness.”

“We've got to go back to the studio and get our timer back!” Wade exclaimed, grabbing her coat and hurrying towards the door.

“No use, sweetheart,” Rembrandt said, bursting her bubble. “We've already missed the slide.

Quinn shook his head. “Wade's right, we need that timer. Maybe I can do something to get us off this world, but even if I can't, we don't want that technology dropped in the laps of some dumb TV network executives. Who knows what they'd do with it?”

****

“DRIVE!” the blonde man yelled at the driver. “But your wife asked that…” the driver started. “I don't care about them, just drive! My wife needs a hospital!”

The car peeled back onto the road just as the misplaced foursome reached the rear wheels, leaving them in the dust, confused as to what just happened. They continued walking on the road until another driver stopped and offered them a ride into town – Los Angeles, she called it, but it was nothing like the Los Angeles they knew.

The kind, middle-aged woman, who said her name was Linda, asked where they were going. Bewildered by their surroundings, they weren't sure how to answer. John explained they were traveling and their car had broken down. They'd need a hotel to stay at for the night. Linda chatted a bit as she drove, an agonizing ordeal for the four passengers who had no idea how to answer her questions without seeming crazy, and then dropped them off at a hotel she assured them was “lovely, absolutely lovely. I've stayed there with my husband on our weekend getaways from the kids.”

The four actors looked up at the sign. “THE CHANDLER HOTEL,” it read in big letters. “Well, it looks nice enough,” Sabrina said, heading towards the door. The three men, at a loss for a better idea, followed suit.

****

“Um, Q-Ball, I'm not so sure about this,” Rembrandt said, voicing his discomfort with the current plan of action while looking towards the backlot entrance to Fox Studios. “We're just going to walk onto this set, pretending to be the actors that play us? What if they're already here? And how do we explain Maggie?”

“Maggie'll be my girlfriend, she'll be allowed on the set with me,” Quinn responded, not noticing the eye roll that statement provoked from Wade. “And we'll just have to take our chances that we don't run into our doubles.”

“Maybe Maggie should just go in by herself again, on the tour,” Wade suggested. “She can get the timer and get out again without arousing suspicion.”

“No, it'll be much easier for us to get on the set. We can snoop around and go through the props this way,” Quinn reassured her.

“Whatever, Q-ball, you're in charge,” Rembrandt agreed reluctantly.

As they headed towards the back entrance, Wade leaned over and whispered to Rembrandt, “Quinn in charge? I'm starting to feel like that's not the best idea anymore, Remmy.” Rembrandt just shrugged and smiled.

****

Robin awoke to find herself sprawled out on the floor under the story game writing desk. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten there, but she remembered the fantastic dream she'd had while she had been sleeping. She pulled herself into the chair and started writing…

****

Finished her part, Robin headed back to the bar, but was stopped by HK. “Oh no, I don't think so. No more alcohol for you.”

Robin put on a pouty face but only said, “Then you tell TM it's his turn,” then went off to find her good friend Harvey. She wanted to hear more about his Spanish villa.

~Robin

But before I start, I want to thank Robin for bringing some sense into a story game that seemed to be lacking in that department. It really is a shame that I'm going to have to take it all away. <Evil laugh.>

***
Wade made her way to Sabrina's trailer without arousing undue suspicion. Well, due suspicion. At any rate, she soon found herself lounging in a chair in front of the mirror, fixing her hair the way she would wear it if she were going to be on television.

Seven hours later, Wade was startled by a knock at her door. Stupidly, she made her voice go two octaves lower and adopted an Australian accent as she answered it. The man on the other side of it might have been curious enough to ask why if he hadn't already been frightened away by her hairstyle, which was strangely reminiscent of the band Flock of Seagulls.

Wade looked down at what the man had taken the time to deliver. It appeared to her untrained eye to be a television script. The title of the episode was 'Slide Like an Egyptian'.

"Great," Wade muttered. "I knew I should have gone with Bangles hair." An idea struck her from that train of thought quickly, however, and she began thumbing through the pages of the script. "Wait. I remember this. This is the world where we got the new timer." The realization of what this meant about their efforts to recover the timer quickly dawned upon her. "I've got to talk to Quinn."

*
Quinn was making his way through the new script as well, one page at a time. "I remember this," he said while nodding his head. "Yes, yes! This may be just exactly what we need." Feeling the urgent need to share his idea with someone, anyone, he cast his eyes upon Maggie. She had wandered away from him and was hitting on one of the cameramen.

"That thing you just said about doilies was fascinating," Maggie cooed. "I'd like to tell you about what I did with one once. It was really, really cold and I..."

Quinn grabbed her arm and pulled the former Marine captain away from her latest intended conquest. "Hey, let go!" she cried out.

"Maggie, you're supposed to be playing my girlfriend, remember?" Quinn scolded her.

"Sorry. But I'm not the actor HERE, YOU are." Maggie tossed her head haughtily. "Besides, I'm almost sure I WOULD cheat on you."

"That doesn't matter right now," Quinn declared breathily. "Maggie, the episode we're about to shoot, it's the one where we went to Egypt world. Do you know what this means?"

"How COUld I? I wasn't there," Maggie answered smugly. "Wait a minute. You went to Egypt? I thought sliding WAS never world travel."

"That's not what I..." Quinn stopped himself from lecturing her. It would DO no good. "Look, we have an opportunity here, something that could make things a lot easier on us here."

"Spit it out, Mallory. What's YOUR plan?" Maggie asked suspiciously.

"When we went to Egypt world, I died for a few minutes." Quinn reported with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

"So?" Maggie wasn't that impressed.

Quinn nearly smacked his forehead. "So, that means that this Jerry O'Connell guy is going to have to die, too. Only they don't have real Egyptian after life technology here, because this is a TV show. So they won't be able to bring him back to life." Maggie was starting to get it now. "If I can take Jerry's place after he shoots that scene..."

Maggie looked confused, but for all the wrong reasons. "But how? It's not like you CAN impersonate a dead person." Quinn got a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he looked at her. "What?"

"I think you're going to be playing Jerry O'Connell's girlfriend in more ways that one. Are you up for it?"

"I betTER be," Maggie answered. "Because here he comes now."

*

"T-H-E E-N-D" Rembrandt typed out. Satisfied, he printed the three page document he hoped to present to the man who ran the show. According to his research that was a man named David Peckinpah. Rembrandt picked up the papers and started walking to Peckinpah's office. His proposed episode, fittingly titled "I'm Going Home Now, Suckers" would, with any luck at all, be read and approved by Peckinpah by morning. Remmy could only hope that the episode's production would eventually become reality for the sliders, like everything else they were airing had. Nearing Peck's office, however, Remmy got an unpleasant surprise. "What the hell?!"

Um, that's it. Hope you liked it. Hope I don't get banned from ever doing a story game again. Hope Mychand and I don't simulpost.

Mychand: "If we do, your sorry behind is mine!"

Gotta go!

ThomasMalthus

Sorry... didn't have time for a script. Or anythign good for that matter. --------

Just in front of him, Remmy watched a man enter Peck's office, carrying a bundle of papers. Not any man though, himself. Rembrant Brown. Like he was watching some future echo of himself, a couple of minutes ahead. Remmy stopped still and stared.

He ran through all the options in his mind. Number one, his double had not in fact Slid, in which case there were two of them. Number 2, well, Quinn had had a brother, perhaps this world was weird and he was a twin or something. Or number 3, by some bizarre coincidence there was another Sliding double of his here as well.

Taking a deep breath, the Crying Man stalked forward, determined to find out which it was, but not to get in trouble for it.

* * *

Quinn could not help but to blink his eyes ferociously as what appeared to be his own double did indeed walk towards him. He didn't even notice as Maggie began to flutter her eyelashes and stick her chest out.

The man kept on walking towards them. He didn't seem in the least bit surprised by what he saw. Once in front of the Sliding pair, he stuck out a hand towards Quinn, obviously trying his hardest not to be distracted by Maggie's assets. “You must be Jerry. I'm Quinn. I expect I have a bit of explaining to do.”

“I… er… you can't be Quinn!”

The mirror image said quickly, “I know, I know, it's sounds 'out there' but I'm actually a real Slider, like you do on the TV show.”

“No, you don't understand,” stammbered Quinn. “I'M a Slider. We Slid here and got our timer mixed up with the prop. The actors Slid with it. We were taking their place to try and work out how to get it back!”

The newcomer let out a loud laugh, “Jerry, you crack me up in times of confusion!”

“He's telling the truth… Quinn,” interjected Maggie, twisting Quinn2 around so he got full blast of her attempts to seduce him. Hell, if her Quinn wasn't taking the bait, maybe this one would. “I'm a Slider too!”

He raised his eyebrows in interest, then realised who she was. “Hey, I remermber you! You were at that base a little while back. Your husband was in a wheelchair, he helped up with the timer a bit, and then you guys all Slid to a new world because of the pulsar! How did you end up as a Slider?”

“It didn't happen quite that easily on my world.”

There was a slight pause as no one knew what to say. Then Quinn realised something. “The professor's still with you?”

“Of course! Where else would he be?”

Again there was silence. Even a dense man like Quinn who could never take hints knew what that meant.

“Where is he now?”

“Oh, off somewhere pretending to be this guy… John something or other. Sounded Welsh.”

Noticing the conversation was drifting to topics slightly too deep for her, Maggie thrust herself into the conversation again. “Quinn, we'll need your help to get our timer back. Do you have any ideas?”

“For a lovely lady like you, of course I do! You said they Slid to another world?” Quinn and Maggie nodded, Maggie's breasts bouncing like balloons. “Then it's simple. We just track them using our timer.”

“Now why didn't I think of that first?” bemoaned Quinn, as he watched Quinn2 and Maggie head off somewhere, arm in arm.

* * *

Wade fell out of her trailer in a rush, right into Maggie. Instinctively, she pushed her away, and ended on her bum on the steps of her trailer. But Maggie ended on the floor, so that made up for the embarassment. “What are you guys doing here?” She prupsoely spoke loudly in character. “I didn't know you were bringing your girlfriend, Jerry.”

Then she spotted another man. Wait… two Quinns? Or a Quinn and a Jerry? What was going on?

“Wade,” Quinn… she assumed it was her Quinn, whispered urgently. “Wade, let us in! We can't stay out here! I think I found us some help!”

She allowed the three of them into her trailer, but gave Maggie the filthiest look ever. It was returned just as visciously.

“Wade, we have a plan!” Quinn announced brightly. “In half an hour, these guys, who are Sliders too, can lead us to the world the actors who are us went to and we can get the timer back!”

“These guys? I only see one!”

This time Quinn 2 spoke. “I think Rembrandt went to hand a script to the executive producer or something. He told me his name but I forgot. We were only taking an interest in the show when he got all worked up about something and then we got stuck on the set. Your double will probably head here soon, and the professor is probably in his own trailer.

“The professor?” Again, Wade shot Maggie a dirty look. Things just weren't fair.

“Yeah.” He brushed her aside lightly. “If we make sure we're all here in 25 minutes, we can Slide. Agreed?”

There was no argument. Even from Quinn who was trying to work out how they'd all fit in the vortex. Once upon a time he'd been worried about that. Now it seemed it no longer mattered.

-----

Sarah: Hahahahahaha! I broke half you guys' plot :-) Well, at least you go a nice easy end you can do HK, thanks.

TM: You could have given him something hard to do!

SL4ever: PIES!

Sarah: tough. I ahve no time and I kept being badgered! :) I still did it!

“Sabrina, are you well?”

*sigh*

“Yeah, I know. Maybe there is a chance we can get through this… extra-ordinary circumstance. Frankly, I'm feel surprised, and somewhat lucky, that I can actually experience what my character has gone through first hand.”

Sabrina continued to stare.

Hmm. Maybe there something here that can loosen you up, you know, take your mind off things. If only that 'amatuer pretty boy” wasn't hogging the refreshments. My God, I never seen someone suck in that much liquer… Well, maybe this one man back in the Isle…”

John looked at her again, her expression lost.

“Oh dear.”

“So, any ideas?” Cleavant said as he returned from the restroom and sat next to the distraught woman. “Sabrina, you alright girl?”

“Probably in shock.” John answered. “Can't say I don't blame her.”

“Jerry seems to adjust rather well” Cleavant motioned towards the young actor, who was howling like a hooligan while trying to woo a big-breasted girl on the stool nect to him.

“We'll he shouldn't, according to this… “timer” here, we only have less than thirty minutes on this world.”

“You want us to go through that thing again?!?”

“Why not. Maybe this is our ticket home.”

“Yeah, but numerous scripts have told me different.”

“What other choice do we have? Our ATM and credit cards don't seem to work here, we have no family here nor probably any doubles if they really existed. We have a bit in hard currency but that ignoramous might spend it before we leave.”

“Okay, Okay. We're screwed.” Cleavant declared in defeat. “I'll order us some refreshment. It beat just waiting round waiting for that cosmic egg timer to run out.”

“That's it my dear fellow, now we're on the same page. Get me a dry martini.”

“Draft for me.” Cleavant rose up to walk to the bar.

“I'll take a draft too.” Sabrina meekly added, finally speaking up.

Cleavant stopped. “Okay, girl… glad to see that you still with the living.”

“Anything to kill the time, right?” she replied, still a bit numb. “Bring a pitcher.”

“Will do.” Cleavant made his way to the bar.

Jerry sings some Irish drinking song surrounded by a crowd of people and shot glasses. When the song ends, each person grabs a glass and swallow it's contents whole followed by wild cheering.

Maggie rolls her eyes. "It's about time."

"So, the plan is simple right?" Wade chimed in. Track them, slide, find them, take our timer, and you slide back."

"It's never simple if Science is involved, girl." Remmy said. "I thought you've learned that by now."

Quinn2 walked a few yards away. "OK, I programmed the timer to find my cast's exact position in the dimension their in and programmed the window to reopen in 20 minutes. That'll give me enough time to find and brief everyone, and hopefully get them together to film some scenes."

Quinn stepped in. "You can't be serious. After what they havegone through, you expect them to keep acting like nothing happened."

Quinn2 smiled. "I'll think of something. Everyone ready?"

"And I Was starting to like this version of LA." Maggie pouted.

The vortex opened and everyone jumped in.

--

"MR. O'CONNELL!" JRD yelled, after a spray of vomit bounced off of the actor's shoes.

Jerry's incoherent mumbling that followed may have count as an apology.

"Man, now are we only up the creek without a paddle, we have to drag his ass too." Cleavant protested.

Sabrina stared at the timer. "We should be leaving this dimension soon. Wow, if we ever get back, I need to demand to hold this thing more often."

JRD picks up JOC and walks him down the block to catch up with the others.

"C'Mon Jerry. Let's get you to a nice hotel so I can sober you up. I don't have the strength to throw you into that hole and I don't think-"

The actor's word were interupted, when a giant purple hole opened above him. JRD tossed Jerry asid and leaped out of the way before the first arrivee made it through. Soon, the five of them made it out.

"See? Found them!" Quinn 2 shouted.

Wade ran up to her actress double and snatched the timer. "Sorry, that's ours. You had us worried you now that?"

Sabrina just stared at her wide eyed and mouth opened.

"For a minute there I thought we have to do some legwork to look for you all." Wade continued.

Cleavant ws doing the same thing as his acting collegue when he eyes his double.

"Yup... I'm you." Remmy smiled. "Sort of."

Quinn2 cleared his throat. "OK, I need my cast to form a circle around me... Jesus Jerry!!! Someone hold him up! Anyway, I will explain everything in due time and we will all return to our home dimension in the next few minutes. I know this is truly a bizarre experience for you all, but counselors will be standing by. Also, after you sign a Non-Disclosure agreement and waiver, you can go home for teh day and take the next two days off."

The cast just stared at him. Quinn2 sighed. "this is going to be a long wait."

Meanwhile, the Slider were walking away. "Lets get away before we shock them into a coma." Wade said.

"I second that." agreed Remmy.

"Thrid." agreed Quinn before ducking inside a nearby alley.

The End