Sanctuary has inspired me to new levels of crack.
I believe it's safe to say that this level of crack has not been seen since the days of Arcstar Galarctica. But, nighttones, what can I say? I really didn't want to do homework tonight.
For anyone who cares, the backstory is here.
Also, in my head, Nigel Griffin is always a bit thick. I don't know why, don't ask me questions.
[scene: Apartment, modestly furnished. Five people sit around a living room area. A television is playing a rerun of "Frasier."]
Nikola Tesla (NT): It eludes me as to how this show stayed afloat for so long. It really is just two primly dressed men flouncing around an apartment, drinking wine, while their decrepit father looks on from an unattractive chair.
John Druitt (JD): Nikola, you have just described much of your own activities, excepting the elderly man, of course.
NT: James could put in a fair bid for an old man, I'd wager.
Nigel Griffin (NG): Are you Frasier, then, or Niles, Nikola?
NT: Niles, clearly - he winds up with the beautiful British girl.
JD: [makes as if to strike NT]
Helen Magnus (HM): [warningly] John...
NT: Frasier has encounters with more women than anyone else on the show, John. I thought you'd appreciate the accuracy.
HM: [wearily] Oh, Nikola. Don't bait him.
NG: Who'm I, then?
NT: The dog.
CUE CREDITS (Theme Song and Title Yet to Be Determined)
[scene: morning in the apartment - bathrobed and drinking tea, Helen Magnus works on the crossword. Nigel Griffin noisily eats cereal at the table with her, Nikola Tesla lounges on the couch, wearing yesterday's clothes]
HM: Big name in late-night? Five letters.
NG: Er - Leno?
NT: That's four letters, you nitwit. Can't you count? Clearly the answer is Conan. Honestly, Helen, a little television now and then won't kill you.
HM: I have nothing against TV. I'm all for it, in fact. I just prefer to spend my time on Turner Classic Movies or CNN.
NT: Ah, Helen, Helen. Someday I will lure you into the glories of mindless TV.
JD: [emerging from a bedroom] Just make sure that's all you're luring her to.
NT: I might warn you of the same thing, my good sir. And what a pleasure it is to see you up and about so early. I would have thought your nighttime activities precluded you from experiencing the morning.
HM: [quickly] It may be put on a roll? Seven letters.
NT: [to Nigel Griffin] It's not butter.
NG: [grumpily] I wasn't going to say anything.
JD: [helping himself to a cup of tea] Any letters so far?
HM: Starts with 'A'
JD: Absence.
HM: [looks up at him with a smile] You were always the best at crosswords.
NT: Well he is until James gets up. That man will have your crossword finished before you've finished steeping your tea.
HM: Which is why I prefer to do them while he's still abed. I like to keep some puzzles for myself. Escapee from a witch in a Grimm's tale?
NT: I would think you'd know your fairy tales well enough, Helen. Didn't you hear some of them from the horse's mouth?
HM: Jah, in der ursprünglichen Deutschen.
NG: Come on, Helen. Not all of us speak German.
HM: More's the pity. You miss the real poetry of the stories if you read them in English.
NT: Yes, I've always thought of German as a particularly fluid and poetic language.
[James Watson emerges, rubbing his eyes]
James Watson (JW): Oh, good, there're still open spaces in the puzzle. And I do hope you've saved me the Sudoku. I want to beat yesterday's time.
HM: What was it? Thirty seconds?
JW: You insult me. It was twenty-five.
NT: I can't believe you keep track.
JW: If I remember correctly, it was just yesterday you reminded us of your record numbers of wine consumed in a single evening. I would wager that's a mite more trivial than my Sudoku records.
NT: Debatable.
HM: [to herself]I think it's Gretel. Then I can fill in Ronettes going down.
JD: Doesn't almost every Grimm tale have someone escaping from a witch?
HM: Mmm, or a stepmother.
NT: I suppose you'd prefer them running from a crazed teleporter.
JD: Teleportation is too complicated a concept for the likes of fables, I think. I prefer to be immortalized as I am.
JW: A serial killer?
JD: A man who bested Scotland Yard.
NT: Well, that's not a feat worth bragging about at all. Perhaps if you'd, oh, I don't know, created a new kind of electricity, one that you still use to this day, then maybe you'd have something to brag about.
HM: Must we have this contest every morning? Wouldn't it be far easier to simply get out the tape measure? Honestly.
NT: That will never happen, Helen, as it's yet another contest I would clearly win.
JD: [makes as if to strike NT]
HM: John, John. If the two of you don't stop this incessant bickering match, I'll be forced to call a house meeting, and I know how the pair of you enjoy those.
NT: About as much as one of John's whores enjoys a night on the town with him, I'd imagine.
HM: Men! Come now. Someone just tell me the home of Hells Gate State Park and let's move on from this.
JW: Oh, I know! It's Idaho. I remember seeing something about that...somewhere.
HM: And a snack food with a Harvest Cheddar flavor I know, thanks to someone's late night trips to CVS and those annoyingly loud recyclable bags.
NG: A man's gotta eat, Helen. And it's good for the environment.
HM: [shakes her head, but returns to the puzzle without argument]
JW: Give us another clue. Please?
HM: Mythological triad?
NT/JD/JW: [simultaneously] Fates/Graces/Gorgons
HM: Ah, and with 'Graces,' we have the correct answer. Well done, John, well done. For that, you can finish off the tea.
I don't even know.
For anyone who cares, the backstory is here.
Also, in my head, Nigel Griffin is always a bit thick. I don't know why, don't ask me questions.
[scene: Apartment, modestly furnished. Five people sit around a living room area. A television is playing a rerun of "Frasier."]
Nikola Tesla (NT): It eludes me as to how this show stayed afloat for so long. It really is just two primly dressed men flouncing around an apartment, drinking wine, while their decrepit father looks on from an unattractive chair.
John Druitt (JD): Nikola, you have just described much of your own activities, excepting the elderly man, of course.
NT: James could put in a fair bid for an old man, I'd wager.
Nigel Griffin (NG): Are you Frasier, then, or Niles, Nikola?
NT: Niles, clearly - he winds up with the beautiful British girl.
JD: [makes as if to strike NT]
Helen Magnus (HM): [warningly] John...
NT: Frasier has encounters with more women than anyone else on the show, John. I thought you'd appreciate the accuracy.
HM: [wearily] Oh, Nikola. Don't bait him.
NG: Who'm I, then?
NT: The dog.
CUE CREDITS (Theme Song and Title Yet to Be Determined)
[scene: morning in the apartment - bathrobed and drinking tea, Helen Magnus works on the crossword. Nigel Griffin noisily eats cereal at the table with her, Nikola Tesla lounges on the couch, wearing yesterday's clothes]
HM: Big name in late-night? Five letters.
NG: Er - Leno?
NT: That's four letters, you nitwit. Can't you count? Clearly the answer is Conan. Honestly, Helen, a little television now and then won't kill you.
HM: I have nothing against TV. I'm all for it, in fact. I just prefer to spend my time on Turner Classic Movies or CNN.
NT: Ah, Helen, Helen. Someday I will lure you into the glories of mindless TV.
JD: [emerging from a bedroom] Just make sure that's all you're luring her to.
NT: I might warn you of the same thing, my good sir. And what a pleasure it is to see you up and about so early. I would have thought your nighttime activities precluded you from experiencing the morning.
HM: [quickly] It may be put on a roll? Seven letters.
NT: [to Nigel Griffin] It's not butter.
NG: [grumpily] I wasn't going to say anything.
JD: [helping himself to a cup of tea] Any letters so far?
HM: Starts with 'A'
JD: Absence.
HM: [looks up at him with a smile] You were always the best at crosswords.
NT: Well he is until James gets up. That man will have your crossword finished before you've finished steeping your tea.
HM: Which is why I prefer to do them while he's still abed. I like to keep some puzzles for myself. Escapee from a witch in a Grimm's tale?
NT: I would think you'd know your fairy tales well enough, Helen. Didn't you hear some of them from the horse's mouth?
HM: Jah, in der ursprünglichen Deutschen.
NG: Come on, Helen. Not all of us speak German.
HM: More's the pity. You miss the real poetry of the stories if you read them in English.
NT: Yes, I've always thought of German as a particularly fluid and poetic language.
[James Watson emerges, rubbing his eyes]
James Watson (JW): Oh, good, there're still open spaces in the puzzle. And I do hope you've saved me the Sudoku. I want to beat yesterday's time.
HM: What was it? Thirty seconds?
JW: You insult me. It was twenty-five.
NT: I can't believe you keep track.
JW: If I remember correctly, it was just yesterday you reminded us of your record numbers of wine consumed in a single evening. I would wager that's a mite more trivial than my Sudoku records.
NT: Debatable.
HM: [to herself]I think it's Gretel. Then I can fill in Ronettes going down.
JD: Doesn't almost every Grimm tale have someone escaping from a witch?
HM: Mmm, or a stepmother.
NT: I suppose you'd prefer them running from a crazed teleporter.
JD: Teleportation is too complicated a concept for the likes of fables, I think. I prefer to be immortalized as I am.
JW: A serial killer?
JD: A man who bested Scotland Yard.
NT: Well, that's not a feat worth bragging about at all. Perhaps if you'd, oh, I don't know, created a new kind of electricity, one that you still use to this day, then maybe you'd have something to brag about.
HM: Must we have this contest every morning? Wouldn't it be far easier to simply get out the tape measure? Honestly.
NT: That will never happen, Helen, as it's yet another contest I would clearly win.
JD: [makes as if to strike NT]
HM: John, John. If the two of you don't stop this incessant bickering match, I'll be forced to call a house meeting, and I know how the pair of you enjoy those.
NT: About as much as one of John's whores enjoys a night on the town with him, I'd imagine.
HM: Men! Come now. Someone just tell me the home of Hells Gate State Park and let's move on from this.
JW: Oh, I know! It's Idaho. I remember seeing something about that...somewhere.
HM: And a snack food with a Harvest Cheddar flavor I know, thanks to someone's late night trips to CVS and those annoyingly loud recyclable bags.
NG: A man's gotta eat, Helen. And it's good for the environment.
HM: [shakes her head, but returns to the puzzle without argument]
JW: Give us another clue. Please?
HM: Mythological triad?
NT/JD/JW: [simultaneously] Fates/Graces/Gorgons
HM: Ah, and with 'Graces,' we have the correct answer. Well done, John, well done. For that, you can finish off the tea.
I don't even know.