[Video] [totally accidental, you know how it goes]
[On a whim, Roger started poking around in his communicator's controls today. He had a vague idea that maybe he could use it to record messages for later, giving them a better chance of lasting than if he simply wrote them on paper. Unfortunately, he doesn't really know the controls all that well, and given that he was trying to record a message for people back in his world, the slow unnoticed rise of music in the background as he accidentally switches into broadcast mode is really kind of inevitable.]
Take your children and yourself and hide out in the cellar.
By now the fighting will be close at hand.
Don't believe the church and state
and everything they tell you.
Believe in me
I'm with the high command.
[The hostel office behind him cracks down the middle and slides away to reveal one of those sets that looks like the interior of every creepy space station movie ever filmed, with gratuitous shadows, difficult-to-pin-down-the-source lighting, and a throbbing bass line that you just *know* promises somebody one mother of a beatdown.]
Can you hear me
can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running
can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me
can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running
can you hear me calling you?
[Okay, from the look on Roger's face he's just realized something's badly amiss. Either he's aware that he's just been rendered into a rather interesting flickering hologram projected in front of a dark-haired young woman, a fairer-haired teenage boy, and a handful of ragged-looking rebel types, or he's... trying to impress them with the seriousness of the situation. Hard to say.]
There's a gun and ammunition just inside the doorway;
Use it only in emergency.
Better you should pray to God
the father and the spirit.
Will guide you and protect you from up here.
Can you hear me
can you hear me running? . . .
[The chorus swells again as the crowd gathered around the holoprojector suddenly disperses. This is, of course, what happens when you're being overrun by a mixed crowd of faceless black-armored men and thirty-foot-tall robots with far too many spikes on for even a Tyran to consider their make particularly practical. The scattering is followed by a guitar solo in which the camera switches back and forth between the running group and Roger both trying to lay waste to their pursuers and reach each other. It never happens; these space stations inevitably have chasms in their architecture where the bridge is out, and the group is on one side with Roger on the other as the solo dies away and he starts singing again:]
Swear allegiance to the flag, whatever flag they offer.
Never hint at what you really feel.
Teach the children quietly, for some day sons and daughters
Will rise up and fight where we stood still.
Can you hear me
can you hear me running? . . .
Can you hear me
can you hear me running?
Can you heal me running
can you hear me calling you?
Calling you, calling you-
[He turns and looks over his shoulder, and takes off at a run. Gold eyes- or optics, it's hard to say- gleam down at the communicator as a massive metal hand comes down and switches it off with the last note of the music.]
[A moment later it switches back on again, and Roger's back at the hostel and at his desk.]
What in the wide, wide world of sports was that??
Take your children and yourself and hide out in the cellar.
By now the fighting will be close at hand.
Don't believe the church and state
and everything they tell you.
Believe in me
I'm with the high command.
[The hostel office behind him cracks down the middle and slides away to reveal one of those sets that looks like the interior of every creepy space station movie ever filmed, with gratuitous shadows, difficult-to-pin-down-the-source lighting, and a throbbing bass line that you just *know* promises somebody one mother of a beatdown.]
Can you hear me
can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running
can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me
can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running
can you hear me calling you?
[Okay, from the look on Roger's face he's just realized something's badly amiss. Either he's aware that he's just been rendered into a rather interesting flickering hologram projected in front of a dark-haired young woman, a fairer-haired teenage boy, and a handful of ragged-looking rebel types, or he's... trying to impress them with the seriousness of the situation. Hard to say.]
There's a gun and ammunition just inside the doorway;
Use it only in emergency.
Better you should pray to God
the father and the spirit.
Will guide you and protect you from up here.
Can you hear me
can you hear me running? . . .
[The chorus swells again as the crowd gathered around the holoprojector suddenly disperses. This is, of course, what happens when you're being overrun by a mixed crowd of faceless black-armored men and thirty-foot-tall robots with far too many spikes on for even a Tyran to consider their make particularly practical. The scattering is followed by a guitar solo in which the camera switches back and forth between the running group and Roger both trying to lay waste to their pursuers and reach each other. It never happens; these space stations inevitably have chasms in their architecture where the bridge is out, and the group is on one side with Roger on the other as the solo dies away and he starts singing again:]
Swear allegiance to the flag, whatever flag they offer.
Never hint at what you really feel.
Teach the children quietly, for some day sons and daughters
Will rise up and fight where we stood still.
Can you hear me
can you hear me running? . . .
Can you hear me
can you hear me running?
Can you heal me running
can you hear me calling you?
Calling you, calling you-
[He turns and looks over his shoulder, and takes off at a run. Gold eyes- or optics, it's hard to say- gleam down at the communicator as a massive metal hand comes down and switches it off with the last note of the music.]
[A moment later it switches back on again, and Roger's back at the hostel and at his desk.]
What in the wide, wide world of sports was that??