entranceway | [ Maintenance Operation #2 ]

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[ Maintenance Operation #2 ]

Don't you come in here now, don't you--

[ Tiny Bill crawls out from under a huge stack of wallpaper, all covered in spots and splotches of paint. ]

Don't you come in, you hear? Poor ol' Bill's in a right squeeze, thought I'd have it aaaaall done proper by noon, but there comes the time all flyin', and I can't make up me mind none.

[ He nudges the camera. There's one of the mansion's tea rooms all right, painted in dull shades of grey, from top to bottom. Didn't even spare the windows or chairs. ]

There, see? Just like 'em Mirror folk in their garden, all solemn like. Bit too glum, might be, that's why I got--

[ Quick look at the other half of the room! Look at that wallpaper! Probably shouldn't go on the floor or the table, but it's much better, eh? ]

See? Got a lovely bunch of pups, might be someone goes, 'But Bill! Ain't that too many pups in one place?', and I'd go and tells 'em, guy or gal, ain't no such thing as too many pups to cheer a fella right up!

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[Far be it from Ned to dispute the healing and genuinely cathartic experience of petting a dog, but he certainly didn't expect to hear such avid proclamations from a being of reptilian persuasions.

Also, the wallpaper itself is somewhat garish, but Ned is not confident enough in his sense of 'style' (or the lack thereof) to start critiquing someone with such obvious interior decoration skills.]

Is...there a reason that the tea room looks like something out of a movie from the nineteen-fifties?

[The Pie Maker asks, with all the respect of a man who is aware that baking, not painting, is his forte.]

Couldn't tell ye that, not much of a film guy meself. You reckon-- Pardon me for a second there...

[ Bill scurries hurriedly along, stubbing the recording device with his head, until it points back at the all-grey side of the room, dull and bleak paint still glistening with a wet sheen. ]

You reckon that's the one we want then? Could have 'em all like that by tomorrow, no sweat!

[Something is telling Ned that the gray walls do not bode well for anyone, but then, he is a paranoid sort of fellow and tends to assume the worst in just about any situation.]

But why do you want them gray?

[Gray is boring. Gray is drab. Gray makes him think of rotting food and the cool pallor of the dead he visits in the city morgue.]

Isn't it...kinda dreary?

[He folds his arms over his chest to regard the artistic capabilities of a lizard. Maybe the reptile is colorblind? Maybe everything is varying shades of gray for him?]

Me? Oh no no no, ol' Bill's just helpin' out, see? What I wants is what makes our Wonderland work best. Home sweet home, eh?

[ He scurries closer to the grey wall, leaving a trail of tiny grey lizard prints in his wake. ]

Figure you ain't far off there though, it's-- [ He gives the wall a lick with his tongue. ] --an acquired taste, as you says. Might work all contrast like though, I reckon it really makes a guy 'ppreciate the colours he's got, eh?

[Ned narrows his eyes suspiciously.

He heard from someone (at some point, maybe a month or two back) that the denizens of the actual Wonderland would emerge with cryptic hints about events and goings-on. Not being an exceptional puzzle-solver - that was always more Emerson Cod's schtick - Ned picks apart Bill's words and comes up with a load of gobbledeegook.]

Why, are they going away? Is something going away?

[he inquires tactlessly, raising a substantial eyebrow and trying on the Private Investigator look for size.]

Goin' away? O no no no, something's coming, lad! Might be I gots to compromise a bit 'ere, a tad there, only got me so much to work with, you catch me drift?

...if the drift I'm supposed to be catching is incredibly vague and about as transparent as banana custard, then yes, I catch it.

[ Bill whips his little head to the left. Bill whips his little head to the right. He lowers his little voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ]

Some - thing's - coming, lad!

[ He nods at the puppy wallpaper, about as subtly as a jazzercise class of elephants in a china shop. ]

Something's coming. Eh?

[ Nod. Nod. Nod. ]

Eh? Eh?

...I'm gonna take your word for it,

[Ned finally replies, nodding slowly. Were he in the same room as the lizard, he would be backing away right about now.]

Come now, come now, don't you wanna have a little fun, lad? Don't you wanna have a guess? Little guess? Good for the soul, eh? Eh? What's it gonna be for you, the paper or the paint? Pups or plain? Might be you don't gots to choose one neither, but it's always got to know, al-ways good to know...

[ Bill scurries closers excitedly, over the camera now, treating Ned to a full frontal view of lizard belly. ]

Something horrible. Probably. Mind-altering? I hope it's not drugs. Is it drugs? Please say it's not drugs...with...dogs?

[Yeah, no.]

I have no idea.

Drug the dogs? I reckon you'll do without that just fine, bunch of sprightly little things, long as you don't feed them no chocolates they'll be right as rain!

[Ned knew that already. It's why Digby isn't allowed in the kitchen when he's baking brownie pie.]

...yeah, I'm just gonna... [A series of inarticulate gestures comprises his descriptive lack-of-a-statement. The Pie Maker elucidates.] ...go. Pies in the oven, you know.

You do that, you do just that! Back to our work the both of us, eh? You bring one of them pies over to ol' Bill sometime, you hear? Have a good one now, lad!

[ That's one last chuckle for Ned, before Bill drops away and out of sight into an open bucket of paint with a tiny splashing noise. ]

That's the stupidest wallpaper I've ever seen. Are you making a nursery or something?

Nursery! Dear me, dear me, that takes a fella back! Just me wife and the little baby eggs, those were the days!

[ Bill shakes his head, or... at least whips it from one side to the other a few times. ]

Ain't nothing like that 'round here, that is. Mind, you're never too old for a puppy, eh? Eh?

So no one has kids here and lizards talk. Good to know I guess.

Can do much more than talk, I can. Should 'ave seen me work first time I came 'round here again, now that was a right impressive piece. Shame it didn't work out in the end, guess I learned me lesson there, eh? Gots to start smaller, Bill, gots to start smaller. So this time, this time we'll take off a little bit o' this, and put in a little bit o' that, and we'll see how everyone likes it, and then we'll see what we'll see, eh?

...yeah, okay. You do that, lizard guy.

[ What a weirdo. ]

Dogs. So...werewolves? Is that the hint?

[Not sure how the black-and-white shit comes in, though. Old-timey werewolves? Werewolves in top-hats?]

'S not a hint, that is, lass, that's what us professionals call in - te - ri - or de - co - ra - tion - ing. Some fancy mouthful, eh? Eh?

[ He chuckles. ]

Sounds to ol' Bill like someone's just expecting the greyest of the grey! No, no, wouldn't go 'round looking at it like that, sometime's a puppy's just a sweet little puppy, eh?

[...Okay, so maybe the Red Queen is the only one who has any consciousness about this stuff.]

Uh, I guess. Any particular reason why you're doing interior decorating right now, then?

New look, matching look, gettin' the ships in shape and all!

You think dogs match all that grey?

Wait, no. That's not important. Getting in shape for what?

Might be grey dogs won't do the trick, but you know what's gonna? You know what's-- Greyhounds.

[ Bill chuckles, then laughs, then guffaws at his own joke, as loudly as a lizard can, his tongue adding an odd clicking wetness to the sound. ]

Beg- beg ye pardon, lass, couldn't help meself there, might be the paint gettin' to me head, there's only so much a little guy can do, see? [ He chuckles quietly, and shakes his head. ] That's gonna be a right piece of work, gettin' that paint all over, all over, all over everything...

[He's so cute she almost laughs at his joke.]

Maybe you need a break. Or you could stop. Just not do it.

[Maybe that'd stop the event?]

Stop?

[ Stop he does, rather motionless; and blink he does too, as much as his tiny lizard eyes will allow... aaaand then he moves again, and scurries over to the nearest paint bucket. ]

But I can't stop me work, I just can't! Who'd get it done if it weren't Bill, who'd get it done right and on time? You need a proper hand to make it right, that you do, else it'll never get done! If nobody does it, it don't get done!

I guess that's true. But it's not like you have a boss, right?

[Or does he?]

I'll do you one better, lass, I got responsibilities; don't need no big man pullin' tight the screws on me thumb to know where there's work to be done. Got me pride too, see? Won't leave a job unfinished just 'cause that's the easy thing, no no no, Bill won't do that.

So this is your house? And you're fixing it up?

Lass, what's a little old lizard to do with a big old house like that? [ Bill chuckles. ] I make it right, I do me best, I change it up, try and make it better too, but it's all for you, it's all for us, lass!

[Hmm.]

That's nice and all. But if I were you, I'd want a paycheck. Who should we talk to to make sure you're getting, uh, compensated for all your hard work?

[ … yeah, this is a cryptic as hell broadcast, but cordelia's just going to focus on the wallpaper. narrowing her eyes, she's clearly judging bill the lizard for his poor taste in paper. ] Yeah, I doubt that wallpaper's going to do it's job, Poor ol' Bill. [ despite mocking him by adopting a very sad and low tone to paint his name, she decides to leave a few words of wisdom that will help bring cheer to cordelia chase. ] You need some cheering up? Put some money on the walls.

Rather have that in me pocket, if I had a pocket, don't mind me sayin' so. Gots plenty of paint left 'ere though...

[ He climbs on top of a big bucket with the letters ＳＬＡＴＥＧＲＥＹ printed on it. ]

Could cover those pups right up, that I could. Bill gots some of the nice slate grey here, some charcoal, some jet, bit of ash grey, dim grey, silver, metallic grey...

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[ Maintenance Operation #2 ]

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