TBH: How long are YOU going to last before you cast your body before Blinker's crisper?

SL6: I should be able to make it to the first commercial! :-P How bad can this ep be?

HTWD: <dabbing eyes with handkerchief> : They're so sweet and naïve when they first come in here!

Way Out West - Part III

REMBRANDT (aside, to Maggie) : Did he say 'rustle'?

SL6: So not only do we get the tedious jargon, we have to suffer through their idiotic comments about it? OUR idiotic comments are bad enough!!!

22 EXT. TOWN STREET - DAY
The Sliders walk down the wooden sidewalk. Passersby eye the strangers, but no one seems too put out by the Sliders' presence.

MAGGIE: So, what's the story here?

TBH: My guess is JOC got bored getting shot down by Buffy and Debbie Gibson so he decided to take out his barely suppressed rage on us.

QUINN: Something delayed this world's technological development by about a hundred and fifty years. Could have been any one of a million things.

HTWD: This is it, folks. This is all we get for alternate world history. We'll reluctantly let this technology "explanation" go past unchallenged.

Ghost of SL4ever: Or will we? :-D

REMBRANDT: All these guns make me jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

SL6: Remmy's lucky I don't have a gun right now! >:-#

Quinn and Maggie stop and stare at him.

TBH: What is this, the third time they've done a variation of this joke in the last five minutes?

SL6: Yeah! Good thing I don't have a flame thrower right now! >:-#

REMBRANDT: Sorry. Must be catching.

HTWD: One more of those Mallory jokes and your ASS is what's gonna be catching!

He moves on. Quinn and Maggie follow.

23 INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE - DAY
A row of bullets sits lined up neatly on the desk. Reveal SHERIFF REDFIELD, a bland, unassuming-looking man sitting at the desk. He is carefully polishing the bullets with a white handkerchief. The door suddenly bangs open and he jumps, scattering the bullets. The Sliders enter.

SL6: Why would you polish something that's just going to get >:-#ed up when it passes through a body? Isn't that like scented toilet paper?

REDFIELD (irked) : Doesn't anyone in this town knock? You scared the hell out of me.

TBH: So I guess when Sliders finally makes it to DVD in 2034, we'll get to see the hilarious deleted scene that set this one up where some other townsmen barge in and scare him. That's the only way his comment makes any sense.

Redfield gets down on his hands and knees and starts gathering up his bullets.

HTWD: So he gets on the floor in front of three strangers? He'd be swinging from the lights and the police station would be turned into a party pad where I come from!

QUINN: Sorry. Are you the sheriff?

TBH: <mimicking Redfield> : Nah, I'm the token comedy relief moronic. The competent sheriff is away from town and won't be back until the last reel ... too late to do anything but look impressive and make us believe the movie would be 7 minutes long if he'd been here all the time.

REDFIELD: What does it say on the door you didn't knock on?

SL6: It says ‘Wally's Booty World.' Since you're on your hands and knees, I guess that makes you Wally! <unzips fly>

MAGGIE: It says undertaker.

HTWD: I get it!

Redfield runs his eyes up and down Maggie.

TBH: <mimicking Redfield> : Are you any kin to Imma Ho or Harriet Snatch?

REDFIELD: He's upstairs, l'il missy. Below that it says sheriff. What do you want?

HTWD: For the record, anyone who utters the phrase "l'il missy" has a place in HELL reserved for them. Right between Tom Green and Arnold Horshack.

MAGGIE: We were attacked. A friend of ours was knocked off the stage about ten miles outside of town.

TBH: <mimicking Renfield> : Knocked off the stage, eh? Was he singing "Tight Pants"?

QUINN: It's my brother. He could be badly hurt.

SL6: Your brother??? That whole suddenly you have a brother thing is less in touch with reality than the ending of "The Game" >:-#

REMBRANDT: He was shot by someone called Mr. K.

SL6: Was the shooter special?

Winnie: <from behind Blinker> : Ha ha ha ha ha! You live!

Suddenly, Redfield turns deadly serious.

REDFIELD: Mr. K?

SL6: Is he special?

<there is an energy burst and SL6ever explodes into tiny Cajun Fried bits.>

<TBH and HTWD turn to Blinker>

BLK: Sorry, but I couldn't take it any more. The episode is bad enough by itself.

TBH: We owe you one. :-P

REMBRANDT: That's what the stage driver said.

HTWD: And then he started talking about how the punk sheriff in this town was going to puss out on us if we told him about this and we said, "nah, the faintly humorous juxtaposition of cowardly sheriff in an old west town was done to death before Woodstock!"

REDFIELD: And what do you want me to do about it?

SL7ever: We want you to put on your best yellow dress and go over and talk to him!

TBH: <looking around> : What's the deal? Did George Lucas leave his cloning booth sitting around?

QUINN: You're the law. I want you to help me find my brother and the man who shot him.

Judge Dredd: <from behind Blinker> : He's not the law! I AM THE LAW!

MAGGIE: The longer we wait, the slimmer the chance that Colin's still alive.

TBH: Um, you KNOW where Colin fell off? Shouldn't your first stop have been to rent some horses so you could go back and get him? Did it take all three of you to report the shooting?

REDFIELD: Precious little chance of that now. Mr. K doesn't miss.

HTWD: Well DUH! They TOLD you that Special K HIT Colin!! Whether or not Colin was shot is not at issue here, moron!

REDFIELD: My advice is you do your grieving and move on. The buzzards are probably already picking your brother's bones by now.

SL7: Redfield could never figure out why he kept getting fired as high school grief counsellor.

Off the Sliders' stunned looks, we....

TBH: ... say "BYE!"

Projectionist: Uh uh! We're only a thousand words in. It's not break time yet.

TBH: >:-#

CUT TO

27 EXT. TOWN - LIVERY STABLE - DAY
The Sliders approach the livery stable.

HTWD: Don't start making sense now. What did they think Special K was gonna do after robbing the stage? HANG AROUND? He's >:-#-ing GONE! Meanwhile they mosey to the Sheriff first while simultaneously speaking of every second counting.

QUINN: If that sheriff's too yellow to help us, we'll just have to find Colin ourselves.

HTWD: Jesus they're slow! It takes them ten minutes to figure out that the best way to drink from a water barrel is NOT by dunking your head in!

MAGGIE: Yellow?

<TBH buries head in HTWD's paws>

HTWD: HEY!! I need those for my own head!

QUINN: What?

TBH: WHAT?!? This is the sixth variation on this "joke" !!! You haven't got it down yet?

REMBRANDT: You called the sheriff 'yellow.'

HTWD: <getting off chair, standing on hind legs, and spreading front paws wide> : Okay, Blinker ole buddy, rescue me from this NIGHTMARE!

BLK: Sorry, need to save my ammo for the shifty feller with my hair.

SL7: What is THAT supposed to mean?

QUINN: No I didn't.

SL7: Christ Almighty! People say SL4ever runs a "joke" into the ground!

MAGGIE: Did.

TBH: That's it!! I'm moving JOC ahead of Whittaker Chambers on my list! >:-#

Quinn looks around the livery stable, which seems to be deserted.

QUINN: Hello? Anyone? Little customer service here?

HTWD: Why should YOU get some? Sliders fans never got any after season two! >:-#

Sheriff Redfield steps out of the stable.

HTWD: THIS is why, Timmy. If they sent someone to procure horses while they reported the shooting, we wouldn't have this "In Living Color" "ONE JOB?????" skit ripoff!

TBH: Ah. I see. Lovely.

REDFIELD: Hold your horses. (chuckles) Get it? Hold your horses?

SL7: >:-# This script was Jerry's revenge against all Sliders fans in advance for everything awful they would ever say about him.

MAGGIE: You run the livery stable?

TBH: <raising hand> : Who else here thinks that Maggie OR Kari even know what the word "livery" MEANS? She's talking weirder than the locals!

REDFIELD: Livery, saloon, dentist's office. I'm expanding. Not much future in law enforcement.

TBH: <mimicking Redfield> : Basically I just follow the only other resident around all day and do whatever he needs.

QUINN: Fine. We'd like some horses.

HTWD: How do you know they'd like you? HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!

<sound of Blinker checking his ammo>

HTWD: Sorry. It's contagious.

REDFIELD: Show me the money.

SL7: He wouldn't make a pimple on Cuba Gooding Jr.'s ASS!

Quinn pulls out a handful of bills.

TBH: So THAT's what happened to all those unused Saturday Night Live props!

HTWD: OH NO!! :-O

REDFIELD: Whoa.

TBH: <mimicking Redfield> : Get it? I said "whoa."

REDFIELD: If I was lookin' for toilet paper, that'd do just fine.

HTWD: <waving copy of the script> : It won't do as fine as this!

<TBH and SL7ever grab more copies of the script and follow HTWD towards the bathroom behind the theater screen.>