*A few hours on the computer, searching through all the material and finding it to be horribly disappointing. Frustrated, Chrome shuts down his computer and wearily heads to his bed.*

ME : Damn it, I can�t believe they cancelled the show. How do you cancel one of your only original shows that wasn�t created and originally aired on another channel? Sure, they experienced a dip in the ratings, but it wasn�t that big of a dip. Call me crazy, but having around a million and half viewers each week is nothing to sneeze at, especially on a cable channel.

*Idly talking to himself as he readies himself for bed.

ME: Well if they didn�t fuck with its air times and take it off the channel for a couple months at a time. It wouldn�t have experienced such a dip. Fucking morons, to much to expect another channel to pick them up and continue the series.

*Turning out the lights, trying desperately to not think about his favorite show being cancelled. Grudgingly he drifts off to a deep sleep, mind filled with images of the show. Hours later he is slowly raises out of the deep sleep from a noise that he realizes shouldn�t be there. The constant soft hum of working engines fills the dark bedroom. Confused he reaches over to his night stand to flick on his light. Hand flailing, not finding the stand he leans further and further over tell he falls out of his bed with a loud slap on a cold, stone like material.*

ME : What the hell�.where the hell did my night stand go? What happened to my carpeting? Where the hell am I?!?

*Fumbling around the room much larger then his own bedroom. He finally comes across a light switch that softly illuminates a large, more industrial looking bedroom. Blinking his eyes to adjust to the light, he tries to get a grasp on where he is and if it�s recognizable. Slowly the surroundings become recognizable to him. Amazed, confused, startled he realizes that some how he managed to be in one of the many rooms on a living ship, a leviathan, by the name of Moya.

ME : Wait�if I�m on Moya this can only mean��.whoa. Did someone slip some acid in my Fruit Loops? This can�t be real.

*On the other side of the mesh like door runs John Crichton who spots Chrome, an unknown visitor. Stopping abruptly, he turns back into the room, slipping his pulse pistol out of it�s holster and aiming it at him.*

John Crichton : How the hell did you get on Moya, Peace Keeper? Better be quick with the explanations. Winona here has been itching to blast away a few more of you.

ME : Whoa, dude! I�m not a Peace Keeper! I�m from Earth just like you. I don�t have a fucking clue how the hell I got on here.

John Crichton : And you expect me to fall for this?

ME : Seriously, I am. Listen to me, I�m speaking English. How many other people in this part galaxy do you know speaks English.

John Crichton : True, but I�ve been here long enough. The Peace Keepers could of pieced together the language enough and taught someone so they could fool me in to believing you are a human.

ME : Well nice logic there, skippy, but would a Peace Keeper know who Captain Kirk is?

John Crichton : Possibly, I�ve talked about him enough.

ME : Damn, you�re right. Wait, but do any of them truly know who he is.

*Slipping in a poor man�s impersonation of Captain Kirk. Desperately trying to convince John that he tells the truth.*

ME : Spock! Damn you and your Vulcan logic�.I�m trying�to�.save these people from�.a�.miserable existence�doomed to a life free of cable television.

John Crichton : *laughing softly, but not lowering the gun* That impression sucks. My grandmother could do better and she�s dead.

ME : Hey, I never said I did it well, but you do recognize the impersonation.

John Crichton : Ok, fine. Then let�s run down a few things you wouldn�t know about Earth if you are a Peace Keeper.

ME : Um, I sucked at school, John. Give me a break here.

John Crichton : We�ll keep this basic Earth history 101, alright. How many kids where there in the Brady Bunch?

ME : Six.

John Crichton : Who�s the black private Dick who gets all the chicks.

ME : Shaft!

John Crichton : That�s right, he�s one bad�

ME : Shut your mouth.

John Crichton: Who�s hotter, Ginger or Mary Anne?

ME : Ginger.

John Crichton : What! Are you crazy, Mary Anne was always the hot one.

ME : Are you crazy, she is way to perky. That would get annoying real damn quick. Besides, you know Ginger isn�t some of that freaky shit.

*Just as John is nodding in concession, in rushes Chiana babbling in some language completely foreign to Chrome�s ears.*

ME : What the hell did she just say?

John Crichton : That�s right, you need translator microbes. Yo, 1812, how about you hook him up with that.

*out from one of the small port holes in the walls rolls this little yellow bot with the numbers 1812 painted on the side. A digital version of the 1812 overture plays as it rolls up to Chrome with a syringe like arm and sticks him in his leg.*

ME : Ow! You little bastard.

John Crichton : Yeah, stings like hell, but it makes sub titled movies a whole hell of a lot better to watch.

Chiana : Who the frell is this? And how did he get on the ship?

John Crichton : Settle down Pip, he is from Earth like me.

Chiana : What are they doing on your planet, frelling dumping off all the lunatics in our area of space.

ME : Well, I was always considered a bit strange on Earth, but I don�t think someone hates me enough to put me in a space ship and dump me in some far off galaxy. At least, I hope not.

Chiana : *seductively sliding up to me, leaning into me as she casually brushes a hand across my cheek* So tell me stud, there many more men like you on your planet.

John Crichton : Pip, enough with the cat in heat impersonation. How about you go find Rygel and try and get Moya�s starburst back online so we can get out of here.

Chiana : Yes, well, I�d do that if I could find the little fur ball.

Rygel : That�s Dominare Rygel XVI to you scum.

John Crichton : Ah, there you are Sparky. Listen, I need you and Chiana to take care of Moya�s starburst before that Peace Keeper Marauder finds us.

Rygel : Ah, I see. You want me to go do the dirty work while you try and hide from me whoever this is.

John Crichton : Look, I�m not trying to hide anyone from you. He�s just another guy from my planet, but we have no clue how he got here.

ME : Chrome, you can call me Chrome.

Rygel : Hmm, I say we kill him and take all his possessions. This sounds like yet another Peace Keeper ploy to me.

ME : Just try it mini Jabba.

John Crichton : Alright, enough. Chiana, Sparky, head down and take care of the starburst now. Unless you like the concept of being Peace Keeper prisoners, again.

Chiana : Yeah, ok, but I want to know all that�s going on when I get back. Come on Ryge, we got work to do.

*The two of them head down the corridor away from John and Chrome. Rygel�s final words can be heard fading in the distance.

Rygel : I still say we kill him. Better safe then sorry.

John Crichton : Ok, how about you explain to me how you got here. Did they continue with the Farscape program?

ME : Listen, John, this is going to sound very strange to you. Then again all the weird ass shit that has happened to you, it shouldn�t be too much of a surprise to you. I don�t know how I got here exactly. I was in my bedroom fast asleep then I woke here on Moya.

John Crichton : Sounds very Dorothy and the land of Oz-ish, but keep going.

ME : Alright, here is the thing that will trip you. You see�

Aeryn Sune: John, what in the frell are you doing�..*pulling her pulse pistol out and aiming it at me* How the hell did you get on board, Peace Keeper!

John Crichton : *rushing over to push Aeryn�s pulse pistol down* Whoa whoa whoa, wait, Aeryn. This guy isn�t a Peace Keeper, he is one of my kind.

Aeryn Sune : What are you babbling about now. Are you going frelling crazy again?

John Crichton : No, trust me on this. So we don�t need to be filling him with more holes then the single shooter from the book depository theory.

ME : heh

John Crichton : Kind of nice to have someone around who actually gets these jokes again.

Aeryn Sune : Well as interesting as this is. I have work to do. If you need to contact me I�ll be in my prowler scouting for that Marauder that�s around here somewhere.

*Slipping her pulse pistol back into her holster, she walks determinedly down the hall towards the launch baby. Chrome and John catch each other at the same time checking out her ass as she walks away. Resulting in a moment of awkward moment followed by a silent agreement neither one of them would mention this.*

John Crichton : Ahem, anyways, you where saying.

ME : Here�s the thing. You know how you keep records of everything you see and find here in hopes one day you can get it back to Earth and share it all with us.

John Crichton : How did you know�

ME : Because you are sharing your experiences with us back on Earth. As strange as this may sound, but all of them are a television show back on Earth.

John Crichton : Yeah and there is a Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. I�m Willy and your one of those little Umpa Lompa�s and we are all just riding on a chocolate overdose wave.

ME : No really John, the show is called Farscape. It�s on a cable channel called Sci-Fi, and here comes the unfortunate part. The show just got cancelled.

John Crichton : First you try telling me that my whole world is a piece of television fiction, not even one on a decent channel. Now you piss in my Fruit Loops and tell me it�s been cancelled.

ME : Yeah, it�s a real pisser, but I think I�m here to try and change that fact.

John Crichton : And how exactly are you going to do that.

ME : Um, suggest more nudity? Hell if I know. I don�t even know how I got here let alone explain how something fictitious has all of a sudden become reality�..Christ, I need a cigarette.

Pilot : *His regal voice comes a small communication badge on John�s jacket* Commander, Moya has estimated we have three arns left that we can safely stay here before the Peace Keeper�s find us.

John Crichton : Its alright Pilot, I�ve got Pip and Sparky working on the starburst problems and Aeryn is out scouting for the Marauder. If we start getting to close to call, I�ll get Aeryn to create a distraction to bide us some more time.

Pilot : Very well, Commander.

ME : This is all just to damn surreal.

John Crichton : So what exactly do you expect to do to help us here?

ME : I don�t know, but I can tell you there are eleven episodes left that haven�t been aired and that the possibilities of another channel picking up the show are not impossible.

John Crichton : So what do you suggest we do?

ME : That�s kind of complicated. Pretty much the show has been cancelled because a dip in the ratings from season two to season three and the crazily scheduled season four. You need to do something extremely spectacular and unforgettable in these last eleven episodes. Something that will make either Sci-fi re-think canceling you, or another channel to pick you up.

John Crichton : Well that sounds easy, how about I find the cure for cancer and AIDS while I�m at it.

ME : Look, it�s the best answer I can come up with. Its either that or see an end to all thi�..

*Just then the ship is rocked hard as the sound of a laser blast buckles part of the hull. John loses his footing and begins tumbling to the ground, pulling Chrome down with him. As the two of them fumble around on the floor, using each other to try and regain there feet as the ship totters out of control. In come Dar�go running urgently into the room.*

Dar�go : John, the Peace Keeper ship has found us! What the frell! Stand back John!

ME : *wrestling with John to pull myself to my feet* No wait! Its not what it looks like!

*Before Chrome can say anything more, Dar�go opens his mouth and lets out a loud hiss as his long tongue snakes out lighting fast and strikes him in the neck. Eyes rolling back up in his head, Chrome slithers back to the floor unconscious. Sometime later Chrome slowly raises deep from his induced sleep, head throbbing and dizzy. Blinking his eyes that slowly adjust back to the site of his bedroom.*

ME : Whoa, that was a funky ass dream. It felt so real.

*Groggily he gets up and heads to the living room. Turns on the television for back ground noise as he sits there and slowly makes his morning cigarette. Just as he is about to light his cigarette, he looks up at the television and realizes its on the all Spanish speaking channel and he can understand every word of it.*

ME : *cigarette dangling in his lips, zippo open and lit forgotten in his hand* But�I don�t know how to speak Spanish. Oh man, I think I�ve finally flipped. No way that all could have been real.

*As he sits there in complete disbelief, his eyes wonder down to the coffee table. Sitting on there is Winona, John�s favored pulse pistol. Gasping as the cigarette tumbles from his lips.

ME : Oh man�.this can�t be good

* Just then the television broadcast is interrupted by an emergency broadcast. A frightened news anchor tries to explain rationally about an alien evasion.

News Anchor : Reports are coming in that the alien life form looks exactly like us, but speaks in a language completely foreign to any countries government. Defending forces across the planet are falling to heavy casualties by the superior fire power of the invading aliens.

*With a scream, Chrome shoots sitting straight up in his bed. Body glistening with a fine sheet of sweat, hair matted to his face, slight crazed look in his eyes. Quickly he gets out of bed and searches the channels of further news on this alien invasion, finding no note of it anywhere. As a final test he turns to the all Spanish speaking channel and lets out a deep sigh of relief as once again he isn�t able to understand a single word they say. Grumbling he shuts the TV off and tosses the remote control in his chair as he head back to his bed.*

ME : Damn dream�that�s the last time I ever touch that shit again�stupid flash backs.

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003