TBH: <mimicking L.J.> : Woo Hoo!! These people must have one hell of a stash of CRACK! I want in on this action!

SID: What the hell are you talking about?

HTWD: How many times a day do you think he says that?

TBH: A minimum of 45, I'd say.

Arturo comes closer to Sid, trying to be as secretive as possible, but L.J. is determined to eavesdrop.

SL4: I loathe dippers. Smack him, Arturo!

ARTURO: I promise you, sir. There are a great many San Franciscos. We'd been to dozens before visiting yours, and we'll be going to another one tomorrow.

TBH: This is not exactly Arturo at his brightest! Why on Earths would you tell this slobbering moron ANYthing? You should just get the hell away from both of them!

L.J. reacts, he's heard enough. He buttonholes Arturo.

HTWD: Hey, hey, HEY! I don't want to hear about any freaky >:-# he does to Arturo!

L.J.: You got "Buddy Bracelets?"

SL4: Sniff. We don't even have buddies!

L.J. : (off the Sliders' confusion) Didn't think so. You're in luck!

TBH: <mimicking Quinn> : Lucky? Then why do I feel like someone who gambled on game one of the NBA Finals?

L.J. opens his jacket. Hanging from the liner, along with assorted other merchandise, are numerous metal BRACELETS.

He pulls them out.

HTWD: I wouldn't trust this man to sell me stamps, and they're buying some bogus bracelets from him.

TBH: What I want to know is this: People are processed and assigned a bracelet when they first come in. If the people in power have any competence whatsoever, the bracelets would be very difficult to remove. So under what circumstances would someone need to buy another bracelet? Has L.J. been carrying those around waiting for Sliders?

HTWD: Don't worry, it gets worse. Wait until they are activated, you'll really smell a rat!

ARTURO (sour) : Great. A street hustler.

SL4: I love it when Arturo is sour! TEE HEE

TBH: This just goes to show you that you should always put your Arturo back in the fridge when you are done with him and he won't go sour as quickly.

QUINN: C'mon, let's go.

TBH: I think I see someone whose business I can stick my nose into down there at the corner.

The Sliders follow as he moves towards the street.

L.J. (calling) : No, man! I'm giving these to you! Gratis.

HTWD: Yeah, right. This moron couldn't beat a Neanderthal at chess but he causally uses words like 'Gratis.'

L.J. : No hype. (then) Hey! It's required! You gotta have 'em.

SL4: I wouldn't trust this weasel if he was telling me I was on fire.

L.J. hurries after the Sliders. Michele and Sid exchange a look.

TBH: <mimicking Sid> : Don't look at me like that. It's not time for your 10am beating yet.

MICHELE: What do we do?

HTWD: As far as I can tell you take up space and annoy people.

SID: Stay with them.

SL4: That's the first intelligent decision he's made since 1973.

CUT TO:
4 EXT. COMMERCIAL STREET 4

which features electric GOLF CARTS and TRAMS rather than cars and buses. The Sliders bare time to react to this before

TBH: ... wondering if they have landed on Disneyland world.

CUSTODIAN (O.S.): Hey! Bracelets!

HTWD: If this guy is tripping off bracelets, wait until a Slider with a toe ring comes through here.

The Sliders turn, astonished to see

SL4: ... a police officer UNDER 300 pounds! :-O

A UNIFORMED CUSTODIAN, his gun drawn, leveled at the Sliders.

TBH: Okay, okay, we'll buy one of his crappy bracelets! Christ almighty!

CUSTODIAN: Let's see those bracelets. Now!

HTWD: See, this is what happens when you let mergers run rampant. I KNEW it was a bad idea to let jewelry stores merge with prisons!

L.J. runs up to the Custodian, waving his bracelets.

L.J.: Right here, boss.

SL4: Didn't black people calling white people "boss" on film go out of fashion sometime in the 1950s?

L.J. : Right here. My fault. They're new. I'm just taking them to check in with Custodian McGill.

TBH: This is even worse than the way it aired! Why wouldn't prisoners be issued bracelets when they are transported to this prison? What sense would it make to dump them in SF, let them wander around, and THEN issue them bracelets? But everyone is acting like it is okay for new people to not have their bracelets yet.

The Custodian puts away his gun.

CUSTODIAN: Get those bracelets on them right now and get moving.

HTWD: Man, this is what happens when you give janitors a little power. Why do you go back to mopping the floor!

Now, under the watchful eye of the custodian, the Sliders are only too happy to take the bracelets and put them on.

SL4: Nothing like being held at gunpoint to change your mind about accessorizing.

Sid doesn't seem to like the idea, but Michele takes two bracelets, puts one on, and gives him the other. He puts it on. Suddenly, a RUMBLING as the GROUND SHAKES BENEATH THEM.

TBH: <mimicking Sid> : I knew it! I knew the world would end if I ever put on some girly jewelry!

WADE: Earthquake!

HTWD: Nah, don't worry about it. Oprah is in town and she must have tripped and fallen to the ground or something.

Everyone stops and holds their breath till it stops. Then L.J. relaxes, smiles at the custodian, relieved.

TBH: <mimicking Bill "Bojangles" Robinson> : I sho am glad that won didn' keel us, boss.

L.J. : Hey. How 'bout that one, boss?

TBH: <mimicking Bill "Bojangles" Robinson> : Whadda say, boss? If'n I suck up to you enuff, will you put in a good word wit da gov'nor?

L.J. : Five point two?

SL4: If you're talking about how many sick bags I need after this disgraceful sucking up I'm being forced to witness, you're close.

L.J. (then, to the sliders) : All right. Back in the cab everyone.

TBH: Come on back to the cab, I can't get any farther with this guard unless I put on a blue dress.

L.J. points the group into TRAM parked at the curb. It has a jaunty red-and-white striped canvas top and easily seats eight to ten people. Everyone piles in.

HTWD: I guess it would be too big a tip off which movie they are ripping off if it had chandeliers on the hood.

WADE: Thank you. (then) If you could just take us to the Motel 12 on TBD Street, we'll be fine.

SL4: You're fine anywhere you go, Wade. :-P~~~~~~~~~~~

L.J. : It's rubble. Came down in last month's six point four.

TBH: No more than Motel 12 deserves for trying to rip off Motel 6!

SID AND MICHELE

HTWD: YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOUT! WE'RE PAYING ATTENTION!

are behind Quinn.

MICHELE (concerned) Maybe he's not the L.J. we know, but he sure as hell acts like him.

SL4: What do you mean? The other L.J. was a drunken idiot firing a rifle for no apparent reason. This L.J. is a chess losing, fifty years out of date racial stereotype.

Sid isn't listening. He slaps Quinn in the back of the head. Quinn turns around, angry.

TBH: What are you angry at him for? Remmy is the one who laid you out like so sweet with that 2 X 4.

SID: Just a reminder. It's not over between you and me.

HTWD: Oooooooo, I'm sooooo scared! You couldn't intimidate Shaggy or Scooby Doo.

Arturo checks out the view.

ARTURO: At least it's clean here.

SL4: So it's okay to be in a prison and be threatened regularly by above 5.0 earthquakes as long as the place is clean?

REMBRANDT: No mortars going off. That's a plus.

TBH: Mortars? What were they on, WWII world? Who uses mortars anymore?

L.J. (very interested) So, tomorrow, you're leaving the same way you came?

HTWD: Um, actually, we're leaving next month. We can't use the timer until then. Yeah, that's the ticket.

ARTURO: Yes,

HTWD: This answer right here debunks the idea that Arturo is more intelligent than a sea horse. Why would you tell ANYone, especially this weasel, what time you're leaving?

ARTURO: but please keep that under your hat, as it were. We'd just as soon people didn't know about it.

SL4: Oh, that makes it all better. "Keep it under your hat." ROTF!! The entire prison population is going to know ten minutes after he leaves!

L.J. : Not a problem.

TBH: <mimicking Bill Clinton> "I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky." <mimicking Executive> "I am a Sliders fan." <mimicking L.J.> "Not a problem."

CUT TO:
6 EXT. STREET - GOVERNMENT HOUSING COMPLEX - DAY

L.J. drives the tram into the parking lot. Everyone gets
out. L.J. leads them into

HTWD: ... more >:-# than they ever dreamed of.

7 INT. GOVERNMENT HOUSING - MAIN OFFICE - DAY
It's the commons area for a condominium complex. There's a
registration desk to one side, and we can see a recreation
room/gym off to the other side. L.J. leads them up to the
desk, speaks to the buff-looking woman behind it, DELORES.

SL4: Buff-looking? Who wrote this script, Pauly Shore?

He pulls a carton of cigarettes from a pocket under his jacket and slides them across the desk to her.

TBH: What does he have sewed into that jacket, a bag of holding?

L.J. : Morning, sweetheart. These folks need a place to stay, minimum hassle.

HTWD: Cuz being in prison is already enough of a hassle.

Delores takes the cigarettes then pulls out a stack of forms
and shoves them across the counter to the Sliders. L.J.
shoves them right back to her.

SL4: Oh, you're a tough guy now, eh? We all know that if she were more important you'd be buckdancing like a mother>:-#-er.

L.J. : I said, minimum hassle. (off her concerned look) Don't sweat it, baby. Just do it.

TBH: <mimicking Delores> : Oh, okay. I was concerned until you said "don't sweat it." Whew!

She takes back the forms, replacing them with a single leaflet.

DELORES: Here's the group therapy schedule. Ladies at three. Men at six. (points to the rec room) Right in there. Attendance is mandatory.

HTWD: Good idea. If there is one thing these six people need, it's group therapy.

The Sliders react, bewildered.

REMBRANDT (sotto voce) : Mandatory group therapy? What the hell are we checking into, a loony bin?

SL4: If you think this is loony, wait around a couple seasons.