Date: 12/22/99
From: BritSlider

Hi Everyone - what with it being the season of festive cheer and goodwill to all mankind (all mankind except Maggie Beckett that is) I thought I would knock up a quick poem in the hope that some people out there might enjoy it:

'Twas the night before sliders and all round the globe,
People were waiting for a new episode.
Not another old re-run that they've seen before,
But one fresh and original, of which we need more.

Where would they go to, our four sliding friends,
Through that shimmering vortex down whose path they now wend.
To some hostile environment where they can't breathe the air,
(And hopefully then they would leave Maggie there).

There's dear little Quinn - who invented the slide,
If you put Einstein and all of those theorists aside.
As he worked in his basement to perfect anti-grav,
Not knowing what effects his experiments would have.

Into parallel worlds his friends they were cast,
Still thinking that it would all be such a blast.
But now they are stuck there, forever to roam?
Until they find the co-ordinates to finally get home.

They can slide onto worlds where the animals are huge,
And rabbits regard them as if they were food.
But still Colin's convinced it will do them no harm,
Cause it's "Just like the pet I had, back on my farm".

The Prof he is gone, and we wept at his death,
But he thought of his friends even with his last breath.
Telling them to keep sliding until they can learn,
A way back to their families who await their return.

And Maggie, oh dear, now what can I say,
Apart from I wish that she'd just go away.
All those alternate worlds just too numerous to mention,
Yet her acting has still to exceed one dimension.

Let's not forget Wade (who for me was the star),
And was smarter and prettier than Maggie by far.
So now she's on 'Sports Night' for all there to see,
But say that in hushed tones, for it's on ABC.

And Colin, dear Colin, I think we agree,
There's no-one as naive or stupid as he.
With his sweet country ways and innocent charm,
You would never believe he grew up on a farm!

Poor Remmy, how many more tears can he cry,
As the casualty list from past seasons grows high.
His original sliding pals all have been lost,
Now he's got two more new ones - but at last he's the boss.

How long will it run for? Where will it end?
This wonderful series on which we depend.
And so next year starts Season Five to our delight,
So Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.