Last Week, as You Recall…
Dr. Smith opened the door.
-=fig. 614: polite company=- |
A moment's pause,
“THE POLITE KIND! Please come in. May I ask why you're here?”
“My offices have gone over the tapes of our conversation, and no-one could figure out what I had been sold, or why it cost so much.”
“Then come in! Come in. Do you like Tea?”
“No.”
“Coffee it is then. JEEVES! COFFEE FOR FIVE!”
-=shortly=-
-=fig. 614: everyone ignore the jester=- |
“So…” Capt. Brown started, “You want to know what you've been sold.”
“Yes.” Mr. Radio said.
“You were sold” Said Capt. Brown “The right to broadcast on TaVee. Your network, QPFA would be the first onto this new medium, and as you can guess this is a huge advantage.”
“Alright, So I'm buying the rights off'f the Doctor here, but if he can retain a butler, why is my contract so expensive? He obviously doesn't need the money.”
“Jeeves!” Dr. Smith said, “Do I pay you?”
“No Sir.” Said Jeeves.
“There's your answer.” Capt. Brown said quickly. “And I assure you it's satisfactory, only one small problem I'm afraid we don't have the papers drawn up just yet.”
Mr. Radio was shocked, “You've had a week!”
“Mr. Radio, Have you noticed the screams?” Capt. Brown said “The panic in the streets? The giant copper robots terrorizing the city?”
“No.”
“Good. That means we–” He gestured to Dr. Smith and himself–“Have been doing our jobs. There was an outbreak of giant robots, which we stopped. I'm sure you'll hear all about it on the evening broadcast. The point is, it has taken us a week, and in that week we have not had time to deal with silly legal documents. But If you'll excuse me, I'll go and call a lawyer friend of mine, and we'll do this right now.”
There's no need for that.” Mr. Radio said quickly, “I've brought two of the best lawyers in the city.”
Capt. Brown flashed a million-dollar smile, “Which is exactly why I need to call my own lawyer.”
Capt. Brown left the table, and dialed a phone in the corner. Soon, the doorbell rang.
ding dong
“Answer that, will you Jeeves?” Capt. Brown asked.
-=fig. 615: mr. slant=- |
A Zombie stood on the doorstep.
“Let ’im in, Jeeves.” Capt. Brown said.
The Zombie lurched over the threshold. “BRAAAAIIINSSS…” It rattled, then stopped. “Heh…Heh…Heh. Just my little…joke.” Said Mr Slant Esq., Zombie.
“But…But BUT!” Repeated Mr. Radio. “That's a Zombie!”
“Yes.” Capt. Brown nodded, “And for over three-hundred years he's been the best Practicing Lawyer in the city. Mr. Slant, It's a pleasure.”
“Likewise…Mr. Brown.”
“Slant, The Reason I called you here is because–” He explained what was going on.
“I…See. And you have decided on a Price?”
“Yep.”
“No!”
“I see.” Mr. Slant addressed Mr. Radio's Legal Heavies, “Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris!”
The Legal Heavies, of course replied with “quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem”
“That sounds like legal-speak to me.” Said Capt. Brown. “How Long do you think this is going to take, Slant?”
“I …Can't say. They are stubborn.”
Capt. Brown Shrugged, he had expected something like this. “Will You be needing Mr. Radio here?”
“No. His Lawyers have a good, solid grasp of his…*wheeze*…greedy objectives.”
“Good. Zachary, Let's show Mr. Radio how TaVee Works.”
“As long as you keep the crank going,” Dr. Smith said, “The film'll keep going past the mosaic, now the mosaic turns each frame, which is like a little picture, into thousands of little tiny bits, which are fed out this antennae to the computer terminal. You got all that?” Mr. Radio had been scribbling madly in his book, trying to keep up with Dr. Smith. “Sure…What happens once it gets to the computer terminal?”
“Almost everything. If you are using a large computer bank, as I am, you can choose to save the incoming data as a Digital File which you can then edit, or you can choose to just export the un-edited LIVE footage to a connected radio antennae. You can also, with this bit of free software,” He handed Mr. Radio a floppy disk “Switch between cameras, assuming of course you're using a multi-camera set-up.”
“What about sound?”
“You can use any mics you already have, I'm using a standard Boom Mic, It records onto a Record, which you then import into your computer terminal using the standard 33&⅓ Phonograph Record Drive.”
“It all seems so…straight-forward.” Mr. Radio was lost. But he had copied everything down, so maybe someone at the office could translate it.
“It basically is. But all I've done is invent the technology, It's up to you to make a TaVee show worth watching.”
“I assume all this extra, yet necessary paraphernalia isn't included in the price?”
“Of course not.”
“Where'll I be able to get it?”
Dr. Smith counted off on his fingers, “The Cameras, the film, the mics and the lights; Sears and Roebuck. Or Direct from the manufacturers; Kodak, RCA and General Electrick, Respectively. The Computer banks; Apple Computer Company. Software; Me., at least at first. I'm releasing an API as soon as our deal goes public, so there'll be better solutions pretty quick.”
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
Jeeves walked in. “Sir,” He said “The legal deliberations are over.”
“Capital.”
The Zombie lurched over the threshold. “BRAAAAIIINSSS…” It rattled, then stopped. “Heh…Heh…Heh. Just my little…joke.” Said Mr Slant Esq., Zombie.
“But…But BUT!” Repeated Mr. Radio. “That's a Zombie!”
“Yes.” Capt. Brown nodded, “And for over three-hundred years he's been the best Practicing Lawyer in the city. Mr. Slant, It's a pleasure.”
“Likewise…Mr. Brown.”
“Slant, The Reason I called you here is because–” He explained what was going on.
“I…See. And you have decided on a Price?”
“Yep.”
“No!”
“I see.” Mr. Slant addressed Mr. Radio's Legal Heavies, “Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris!”
The Legal Heavies, of course replied with “quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem”
“That sounds like legal-speak to me.” Said Capt. Brown. “How Long do you think this is going to take, Slant?”
“I …Can't say. They are stubborn.”
Capt. Brown Shrugged, he had expected something like this. “Will You be needing Mr. Radio here?”
“No. His Lawyers have a good, solid grasp of his…*wheeze*…greedy objectives.”
“Good. Zachary, Let's show Mr. Radio how TaVee Works.”
-=-
-=fig. 616: keep cranking=- |
-=fig. 617: computer bank=- |
“What about sound?”
“You can use any mics you already have, I'm using a standard Boom Mic, It records onto a Record, which you then import into your computer terminal using the standard 33&⅓ Phonograph Record Drive.”
“It all seems so…straight-forward.” Mr. Radio was lost. But he had copied everything down, so maybe someone at the office could translate it.
“It basically is. But all I've done is invent the technology, It's up to you to make a TaVee show worth watching.”
“I assume all this extra, yet necessary paraphernalia isn't included in the price?”
“Of course not.”
“Where'll I be able to get it?”
Dr. Smith counted off on his fingers, “The Cameras, the film, the mics and the lights; Sears and Roebuck. Or Direct from the manufacturers; Kodak, RCA and General Electrick, Respectively. The Computer banks; Apple Computer Company. Software; Me., at least at first. I'm releasing an API as soon as our deal goes public, so there'll be better solutions pretty quick.”
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
Jeeves walked in. “Sir,” He said “The legal deliberations are over.”
“Capital.”