This is the html version of the file http://www.deadtroll.com/text/ColdFusion.2003.rtf.
G o o g l e automatically generates html versions of documents as we crawl the web.
To link to or bookmark this page, use the following url: http://www.google.com/search?q=cache:_ph6QSzqVIAJ:www.deadtroll.com/text/ColdFusion.2003.rtf+%22Cold+Nuclear+Fusion%22+Stephen+Jones&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=5


Google is neither affiliated with the authors of this page nor responsible for its content.
These search terms have been highlighted: cold nuclear fusion stephen jones 

ÒCold Fusion: The MusicalÓ

 

Ladies and gentlemen, Three Dead Trolls in a Baggie in association with Atomic Improv and the Chinook theatre are proud to present... Cold Fusion the Musical!  And now, please, put your hands together in a warm round of applause for your host and MC of the evening... Funnyman Joe "Slappy" Bird!

Los Vegas type fanfare.  Spotlight on NARRATOR as he enters through the curtains.  He dresses and acts like a Los Vegas-type lounge act.

Hey!  Thank you!  Thank you very much!  It's very good to be here!  Hey, do we have any birthdays in the audience?  Any Bar Mitzvahs?  We do!  Hey, I'm psychic like that.  You know, when Wes came to me and said he wanted to do a show about Cold Fusion, I said, "Hey, Wes, you're nuts!  Nobody comes to the Chinook!  No one will ever come!  We won't make any money!"  Well, I can see from your fifteen or so smiling faces just how wrong I was.  And hey, speaking of that, it's been really fun working with those Atomic Improv kids.  Hey, Paul, Donovan, keep it up.  You're gonna go far.  Ok, so let's get down to the show.  Give me a minute, I'm gonna get a little bit into character now.

Hey!  Alright, I'm in character now.  Maestro!

MUSIC starts.

FLEISCHMANN stands centre and sings Gilbert & Sullivenesquely.

My name is Doctor Martin Fleischmann

I have my degree

In the scientific study

Of electrochemistry

In the late 1960's

I saw an anomaly

In palladium, a by-product

Of titanium refinery

Slide:  "1969"

The music gets quieter.  FLEISCHMANN picks up a test tube or a microscope or whatever and ponders.

Hey, man, grok what happens when these Deuterium ions interact with this groovy palladium lattice!  Trippy!

PONS  enters, singing and dancing.

My name is Dr. Stanley Pons

I have my degree

In the scientific study

Of electrochemistry

In the late 1970's

You taught me

When I went to South Hampton's

University

Slide: "1979"

Disco lights and music.  PONS and FLEISCHMANN boogy together as if on a crowded dance floor.

Hey!  Doctor Fleischmann!  I'm in your electrochemistry class!

Right!  Stanley Pons, isn't it?

Yeah!  Say, Doctor Fleischmann, I didn't know you could dance.

Get down, Stanley, get down.

Hey, Doc, want to get together some time and talk about anomalous phenomena in isotopic separations?

Whatever turns you on!

And maybe later we could pick up some girls, so we're not dancing by ourselves in the middle of the dance floor like this!

Sure!

Maybe it would help if we lost the lab coats.

Never!

They sing:

You went to teach in Oakland

With your Doctorate degree

Then I went to Edmonton

But left in '83

Good for you!

You went to the U of U

In Salt Lake City

But I always came to visit you

You came to visit me

Slide: "1984"

FLEISCHMANN sits back away from the table and pats his belly.  PONS  is doing the dishes or something like that.

Hey, that was a good meal, Stanley.

Thanks, Martin.

Boy, a good tuna salad sure makes me think about the astronomical pressures that occur when large amounts of hydrogen are stored in a metal lattice.

Doesn't everybody?

Say, wait a minute.  If hydrogen isotopes are being placed under astronomical pressures, then couldn't that lead to...

Fusion?!

What if we electrolyzed a palladium cathode inside a solution of heavy water?

It just might work!  But, hold on a second there, kid.  Palladium isn't cheap!

PONS  pulls out a huge wad of cash, and slaps it on the kitchen table.

I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is!

Whoa!  Where'd you get money like that?

My family owns knitting factories and liquor stores!

Hooray!

Whee!  Knitting factories!

Liquor stores!

They get up and sing while they march around and pull out scientific stuff.

So we set up an experiment

To test our theory

Deuterium, palladium

And electricity!

Would we induce fusion?

We'd have to wait and see

If our plan was working

Then we'd find excess heaaaaaaaaaaaa-t!

Dr. Martin Fleischmann!

FLEISCHMANN holds the note.  PONS  harmonizes it.  Big finish.

Dr. B Stanley Pons !

This is our story!

Lights go black.

 

SLIDE: "2,500 BC"

LIGHTS Up on...

Two COWERING WRETCHES sitting in a dark and cold-looking cave. 

SFX:  The Olympic Theme

PROMETHIUS enters, wearing a pastel-coloured faggy velvet high-cut toga and holding flaming Olympic style torch above his head.

He enters majestically, then strikes an heroic pose with the torch.

Hear me fellow men!  I am Prometheus!  On this very day I have stolen from the gods a mighty secret!  No longer will men tremble in the darkness!  No longer will the cold numb their bones when Apollo's chariot has passed the horizon!  Fellow men, no longer need we be afraid of the night... for I have brought you... fire!

He holds it even more aloft and more majestically in the air.

SFX:  More triumphant Olympic music.

The WRETCHES don't look up or even turn around.

The music peters out.

Oh, thank you Prometheus.  Thank you very much.

Yeah.  Why don't you go put it on top of the other stuff you've stolen from the gods.  Zeus' pants.

Athena's Surf Board.

Hercules' hat.

Yeah, all very useful stuff, Prometheus.

Thank you Prometheus.

Why don't you steal some food?

Yeah, why didn't you bring back some pretzels?  I could go for a bag of pretzels.

But, my friends, I stole...

The WRETCHES get up and start pushing Prometheus around.

You stole.

Yeah, we know you steal, Prometheus.  And speaking of that, I haven't been able to find my slippers for the last couple of days...

Yeah, and my crossword puzzle's gone, Prometheus.

But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you Prometheus?

My friends... look... look at the fire...

WRETCH #1 grabs the fire and nonchalantly waves it around.

Listen, Prometheus, even if this so-called fire really works, the practical applications would be limited.

WRETCH #1 passes it to WRETCH #2.

It would be an interesting novelty, I suppose.

Sure.  Birthday candles would be a lot more interesting.

Jugglers would finally have a routine to end their shows with.

Fellow men -- you do not understand.  We may warm ourselves with this fire.

Why?

Because the fire is hot.

I know the fire's hot.  So's the rest of that stuff you stole.  I'm surprised the gods haven't caught you yet.

Yeah, when are you gonna get that stuff out of here anyway?  I don't want the gods to find that stuff here.  I don't want to get chained to a rock and then an eagle eats my liver and then my liver grows back and the eagle eats my liver again...

Yeah, that would hurt.

It would hurt your liver.

A matter of fact, why don't you just take all your crap, Prometheus, and get the hell out of our cave!  Here, just take it and go.

They grab the fire and the other stuff and shove it into Prometheus' arms.

Yeah, get out of here, Prometheus.  You bum!

They turn him around and push him out of the cave and offstage.  One WRETCH boots him in the ass as he goes.

Thank you, Prometheus.  Thank you for your "fire."

You suck Prometheus!

Heh heh heh.

They stare and watch him go for a moment.

Brrr.

Yeah, I'm cold.

LIGHTS DOWN AND UP TO:

PONS  and FLEISCHMANN are straining every muscle of their bodies pushing a small but apparently very heavy container  across the floor towards a cold fusion cell sitting on a table on the opposite side of the stage.

Argh!!

Ergh!!

Ouch!  Egh!

Did you finish... installing... the electrodes?

Yeah...  I just have to... double check 'em.

What about... the recombiner?

Yes... that too!

And the calorimeter?

Yes!

Good!  Argh!  Let's take a break.

They collapse against the side of the water container, panting.

Bloody heavy water!

Stupid heavy water!  Stupid!  How many time do we have to repeat this experiment?

We don't want to report our results before we're ready, Stanley.

I think we're getting closer. This cell is going to be more efficient than the others.

You could be right.  Let's try it again.

Ok.

They get back at it.

Argh!

Argh!  Bloody heavy water!

Stupid heavy water!

Bloody extra neutrons!

Dumb, dumb, extra neutrons!  Well... anyway... this is the last of it...

Of... what?

This is... the last of.. the heavy water...

Yes?... well... we'll have to get... some more...

By now they are at the table.  They grip under the water container and try to lift it onto the table.

I wanted... to talk to you... about that... I'm almost... argh!

Yes?

I'm almost...

Careful.

With a Herculean effort PONS  manages to get the container to the table top and get out his sentence at the same time.

I'm-almost-out-of-money!

Oh.  I see.

They both recover for a moment.

I don't think you realize, Martin, how expensive platinum, palladium... even this heavy water is.  We've been doing this for four years, you know.  It adds up.

Yes, I quite see that.

CHASE PETERSON storms in, smoking a big cigar.

Whoah!  Hey!  What the hell is going on in here?!

President Peterson, just the fellow we wanted to see.

I'm in my office; I hear you guys sliding stuff around in here... what the hell are you guys building in here, a tank?!  Whoah!  Tell me you're building a tank!  Wouldn't that be great!

We're not building a tank.

Then keep in quiet in here!  Jesus Christ, what the hell are you guys doing?  I gotta an office upstairs, I gotta work!  I can't work when I hear people sliding and banging and talking.  Keep it quiet!  No more sliding!

He starts to go, PONS  and FLEISCHMANN intercept him.

Actually, President Peterson, we wanted to talk to you.

Make an appointment.  I'm busy.

It's about money.

What?  Money!  No!  You can't have any!  We're broke!  Get out of here!

But we think we're onto something here.

Too bad!  No money!

Well, it wouldn't have to be university money...

No.  Perhaps a grant?

Maybe from the department of energy.

Oh, well, that's different.  You want money, you fill out forms.  We got forms upstairs.  I can't be bothered.  I'm busy, busy guy.  Go upstairs, ask the secretary, the one with the big tits.

Thank you, President.

Shut up!  And keep it quiet down here, you eggheads!  Normal people gotta work in this building!

Lights down. 

Slide: "1584"

Lights up to:

Two scientists are milling about (puppets?).  I guess they'd be Italian... I think.

Morning Luigi!

Morning Mario!  Are you ready to see Galileo make a fool of himself?

Always, my friend, always.

They laugh and enjoy themselves.  As soon as Galilleo enters with  a big ball and a small ball, they assume grumpy crusty serious scientist attitudes.

Good morning gentlemen!

Morning Galileo.

Why have you dragged the finest scientists of Italy down here to the straight up and down tower of Pisa this early in the morning?

Yeah, we have important research we need to attend to.

Really?  What are you gentlemen working on?

Some stuff.

Yeah, big stuff!  You wouldn't understand it.

Yeah you wouldn't get it.  Plus it's very secret.

Yeah, secret stuff.  Look, get off our backs Galileo!

Oh, I'm sorry gentlemen.  Well, I guess then without further ado, I should explain why I've called you here.

Are you going to prove that the earth revolves around the sun?

The two scientists laugh their asses off.

No.  That's next week.

The scientists stop laughing abruptly.

Gentlemen.  If you will permit me your attention, I will prove to you beyond a doubt that the grandfather of physics, Aristotle, has made a mistake, one that no one has realized for thousands of years. 

Booooooo!

Shhh!  Wait for it.

Now, we all agree, we all know, beyond the shadow of a doubt that, as sure as the tower of Pisa is straight up and down, that objects of different weights fall at different speeds, correct?

Duuuuuh.

It is one of the fundamental laws of physics.

Right.  So, we can be assured that when I climb up the tower and simultaneously drop this:

and this:

...that the cannonball will land long before the musket ball.  Am I correct?

The scientists mumble "yup" and "sounds right to me" and stuff.

Ok, let's find out!

Galileo exits.

Idiot.

Who me?

No, him!

Oh, yeah... idiot.

Galileo is now a little puppet on top of the cardboard tower of pisa.  He yells from far away.

Ok, is everybody ready?

Do you want to get some lunch after this?

Here goes!

Yeah, sure that sounds good.

Whistling sound as the two balls (cardboard versions) fall down the tower at the same speed and land at the same time.

SFX:  Whump!

The scientists look at each other and shake their heads. 
Galileo (real person) arrives at the bottom of the tower, out of breath.

There!  You see gentlemen!  The weight of an object has nothing to do with the speed of its descent, since both objects weigh nothing while they are in free fall!  Now, I've calculated the formula for the acceleration of falling masses...

What are you talking about?

Yeah, they didn't land at the same time.

What?

Yeah, the big one landed first.

Just as Aristotle predicted.

What?!  No it didn't!

Yes it did!

No it didn't.

Yes it did!

But you saw them, with your own eyes!  I can't believe this!

You see, this is exactly the kind of thing that happens when people try to understand things outside of their field of expertise.

But...

And when so-called Scientists try to circumvent the normal scientific process.

But the experiment proves...

You can't expect to overturn 2000 years of scientific knowledge by dangling your balls off a tower.

Bad science.

Very bad.

Let's get some pasta.

The scientists noodle off past Galileo, give him a rasberry, and leave him alone on-stage, looking at the tower.

Suddenly the tower leans over.

Galileo, looking guilty, grabs his balls and skulks off.

LIGHTS DOWN.  LIGHTS UP TO:

 

A messenger stands in the doorway of Dr. Jones' lab.  Jones himself has his back turned to the audience and the messenger; he's fiddling with some scientific stuff.

Doctor Jones?

Uh.

Dr. Stephen Jones?  I've got a package here for Dr. Stephen Jones of Brigham Young University.

Not right now, I'm busy.

But I've got a grant proposal here, Dr. Jones.  It's from the Department of Energy.  They want you to review it.

Dr. JONES spins around dramatically.  He takes the proposal.

Department of Energy?  Better let me have a look at it.  Thanks kid.

JONES flicks the MESSENGER a quarter, he grabs it and turns to go.

Gee, thanks, Doc.

My God.

Is something wrong?

This grant proposal.  These guys, Pons  and Fleischmann, they're trying to induce electro-chemical fusion at room temperature.

So?

Don't you see?  These experiments are very similar to experiments I've been doing.  Just think... all these years and we never even knew about each other...

The messenger goes to take the proposal back.

Well, I better take this back then.

Just a minute.  If the Department of Energy wants me to review it, I'll review it!  I better get going.

JONES grabs his leather jacket and throws it on.

But... the work in the grant proposal... it's similar to your own...

I know.

JONES continues to get ready to go.  He grabs a coiled bullwhip and throws it over his shoulder.

But if you go ahead and review a paper similar to your own work, won't that place you in academic danger?

Kid, in electrochemistry you can't be afraid of a little danger.  Hand me my hat.

No, I'll review it... sure as my name is Doctor Stephen Jones!

The main theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark plays.  JONES strikes a dramatic pose, then grabs the report and runs dramatically out through the audience and eventually out of the house.

LIGHTS TO:

Pons & Fleischmann are working in their lab.  They fiddle with dials and adjust knobs.  Things bubble and hum.

Stanley, would you bring in the heavy water?

Certainly, Martin.

PONS  effortlessly pulls the heavy water out from behind a table.  It's on a brand new four-wheeled dolly.  FLEISCHMANN pushes it with one hand and it gracefully rolls across the lab to STANLEY, who grabs it with one hand.

I just love having a grant.

Yes.  This one seems to be working.

How much?

4 Kilo Joules.

Oh, good.  That's too much to be chemical.

Yeah...

Hey Martin?

Yeah?

If this really works, what changes do you think the world will actually go through?

My friend, if this works, within ten years we'll all be controlled by robots.

Pause while Stanley stares at Martin.

Well, let's get back to work.  Hey, let's try this one with 125 mA's.

Oh, I don't know, that's a lot of voltage.

Oh, come on...

No, I think we should start low and build up to it...

Come on, you pussy!

Ok.

Lights are black.

A Slide Reads "10 Minutes Later"

Sudden SFX:  Explosion.

Lights up quickly on Martin and Stanley.   Their faces are black with soot from the explosion.

Hoo hoo!  Houston, we have ignition!

That should not have happened.

My friend, I think we have just witnessed one of the smallest nuclear explosions the world has ever seen.

That's a little presumptuous.

How else are you going to explain it?  Hydrogen chemically exploding?  There isn't nearly enough to make a bang like that!  No way!

Hmm.  We'd better clean the lab up.

They grab brooms and start cleaning.  CHASE PETERSON storms in.

I thought I told you two to be quiet!

Jesus Christ!  What have you two morons done to my lab!

Oh uh.

It was... uh...

Well, it might have been...

What!?  What might it have been!?

Well, you see, we took a 1 cm-cube of palladium...

That was packed with Hydrogen...

And we put a 125 mA current through it...

...because we've been seeing a lot of excess heat...

Off of this particular design of cell...

You see we think we might be...

Generating... uh

Yeah, we think we might be seeing... uh

What?!  What the hell have you blown the University of Utah's precious laboratory to pieces with?  What?  What miraculous phenomenon have you two shitheads discovered?

Fusion.

Fusion?

Fusion.

Cold...

Nuclear...

Fusion...

We think...

Maybe...

Let me get this straight... you think you've discovered a way to generate cold nuclear fusion from the electrolysis of palladium through deuterium?

Hey, that's pretty good.

Something like that could be... ah... worth a lot of money.  Couldn't it?

I suppose so.

Well, what's a little uncontrolled explosion, eh?  There's no harm done... really.  I think the University is going to be interested in taking a more active role as a partner in this very cutting edge and fiscally promising research.  Let's say I buy you boys some lunch.

Well, uh... we should really clean this mess up.

Bah!  That's why God created graduate students!  Don't worry about it.  I don't want the next winners of the Nobel prizes for physics and chemistry sweeping any floors in my department!  Now let's go discuss how the world is going to hear about this... I say we book a convention room in Vegas... we'll get some girls, and a band... Maybe Tony Bennet could host the press conference.

Uh, well, we shouldn't jump to conclusions or anything... I mean, we've got a lot of testing to do before we can prove anything...

...to release information now would be...

...presumptuous, to say the least.

We don't want this to be just another embarrassing Utah mistake...

Like the prematurely announced non working Utah X-Ray laser.

Or the problematic artificial heart.

That heart works fine!  Fine!  Argh!

He clutches his chest and hits the ground.  PONS  and FLEISCHMANN whip outs some diffribulators and revive him.

Ok, look boys, we'll do it your way... you tell me how you want this thing to proceed... far be it from me to tell you how to do your job.  Now let's get some lunch... on me.

Ok.

They start to leave.

We'll need to send our paper out for peer-review.

Sure thing...

And we'll need some more palladium.

Whatever you want.

And ten pounds of gold.

You'll have it in the morning.

They resume leaving.  Stanley and Martin high five.

Oh!  Sucker!

LIGHTS OUT.

Lights up.  CHASE PETERSON'S office.  He is on the phone.

No!  You listen to me!  Straighten it out or I'll come down there and straighten you out!  You hear me?  I'll knock you into next week, you piece of shit!  Now look, I got an appointment; I'll call you later.  Ok.  Bye, Mom.

Nancy, send him in. 

Suddenly we hear SFX of Jones fighting a hoard of Nazis.  Gunfire, horses, screaming, etc.

JONES stumbles in clutching a gunshot wound in one shoulder.

Dr. Jones, have a seat, you old Mormon bastard!

You're a hard man to see, Peterson.

Oh yeah.  Sorry about the fire and the explosions and whatnot.

It's ok.  I'm used to it.

So... what the hell are you doing here?1

Peterson, I know you've got a couple of chemists -- Pons and Fleischmann -- working on cold fusion.  I just wanted you to know I've been doing similar research.

You have?

Yeah.  I've written a paper.

I'm gonna publish, but I came to tell you I'm willing to wait and publish simultaneously with Pons and Fleischmann if you want.  So it's fair.

Fair!  Yes!  Definitely, we want it to be fair!  That would be fine.  I'm glad you brought this to my attention.  We'll publish together... in a couple of weeks...

CHASE slaps JONES on his gunshot wound.

Ow!

Suddenly, a PIGMY holding a blowgun enters CHASE'S office and chants threateningly.

Ooohga booga booga!

Ooop!  I gotta get out of here.

Sure!  See you later, Jones.

The RAIDERS theme starts.  The PIGMY shoots a poison dart at JONES, barely missing.  JONES leaps to his feet and runs out through the audience, followed by the screaming PIGMY.

Jaques!  Jaques!  Start the engine Jaques!

JONES and the PIGMY exit.  The RAIDERS music fades.  CHASE is left standing onstage in a spotlight.

Hear me Brigham Young University!  You bunch of caffeine-avoiding, church-going, family-value-promoting, food-stockpiling freaks!  You are not going to get one red cent in funding for this discovery, because we found it first!  You are not going to win!  Do you hear me!  I swear by all that is evil, you are not going to win!  The U of U is holding a press conference... tomorrow!

CHASE slams his fist on his desk.  LIGHTS OUT.

 

Slide: "1902"

ORVILLE AND WILBUR WRIGHT wait outside Mr. Henderson's office.  Mr. HENDERSON sticks his head in.

Mr. Wright?

BOTH BROTHERS jump to their feet.

That's me!

Mr. Orville Wright?

ORVILLE goes to shakes his hand.

Call me Orville.  This is my brother, Wilbur.

WILBUR pumps his hand enthusiastically.

How do ye do?

Won't you step into my office?

Thank ye.

Thank ye.

They enter his office; they gawk at it.

Is this your office?

It's purdy!

Look at this lamp Wilbur!

Look at this chair!

It's beau-dee-ful!

Please, have a seat.

Thank ye!

Thank ye!

They sit and fuck with the stuff on his desk.

Look at his desk Wilbur!

I bet this box is full of ceegars!

Is this a picture of your wife?!

She's purdy!

Stop playing with that!

They put stuff down and sit back in their chairs.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Now, Mr. Wright...

Call me Orville!

I'm Wilbur.

Inexplicably, they look at each other and laugh really stupid.

Now, gentlemen, the Office of the Navy has reviewed your proposal for a heavier than air... put that down!

WILBUR puts down something from the desk.

I'm sorry.

He's sorry.

For a heavier-than-air aircraft, and after running it by our scientists I'm afraid we've concluded that the Navy isn't interested in such a device at this time.

Huh?

But it's got big wings!

And it goes fast!

Gentlemen, our scientists have studied your proposal, and they assure us that the kind of self-propelled heavier than air vehicle you describe is physically impossible.

But we built it!

We flew it!

It goes fast!

We call it an airplane, and we want to sell it to you.

For twenty-five hundred bucks!

And then we'll buy fancy clothes!

And big ceegars!

Don't touch that!

I'm sorry!

He's sorry.

Our scientists say that the kind of engine you'd need to power such a craft would be far too heavy to make the device practicable.

HENDERSON begins to usher them to the door.

But we want to sell it to you!

I'm sorry.  We aren't interested.

But it's got big wings!

I'm sure it has.

Air flows more rapidly past the upper surface of the big wing than the lower surface!

Uh huh.

As a result, air pressure is lower above the wing than below it!

Resulting in lift!

Get it?

They both laugh stupidly.

Again, I'm sorry.

But the basis for the theory of the lift exerted on an airfoil...

A big airfoil!

...is Bernoulli's law!

It's an accepted hydrodynamic principle!

Or it has been since the Dutch-born Swiss mathematician Daniel Bernoulli published it!

In 1738!

Good day!

He slams the door on them.

Duhhh....

Guh huh uh huh uh huh.

Why won't anyone believe us?

You know Wilbur, life is like a box of chocolates.

What do you mean?

I don't know.

I feel like chicken tonight.

They flap their arms and exit.  Henderson returns to his desk.  Through the window behind him we see a cheap balsa-wood airplane fly past.

FADE OUT.  FADE UP TO THE LAB.

FLEISCHMANN is working at the lab.

Hey, Stanley?

Yes, Martin.

Have you ever wrapped your lips around the nozzle of the bathtub, and turned on the water, and just swallowed, like, four litres in three seconds.

PONS enters.

No.

No?  I mean, like when you were a kid?

No.

Oh.  Well, this one's working pretty good.

CHASE storms in.

So!  Boys!  How do you like those new parking spots I got you?  Not so far to walk, eh?  So, hey.  This cold fusion stuff.  Wonderful stuff.  I like it.  I'm for it.  Some people, they're against it, but me, I'm for it.

Thank you.

Sincerely.  You guys are geniuses.  I mean that.

I don't think...

I want to be your friend, boys.  You guys are going to be big.  Huge!  And I want to help you... just so I can say I knew you when.

Well...

Hold on a minute there, Marty, because I think you'll want to hear this.  We have a problem.

We do?

This guy Jones, from BYU.  A while ago he got ahold of your wathcamacallit, your grant proposal, and now he's claiming that he was doing the same thing all along.

Oh.

He's stealing your work boys!  And he's going to publish!  We've got to move on this quick, or we won't get a patent!  It'll be horrible!  It'll be the end of the world!

Well, we can put together a paper...

We're not quite ready, but, maybe...

Good!  Good!  But it's not enough!  You guy's were doing this first, you should get the credit!  I tell you what we got to do!  We got to put together a press conference!

I don't know.

We can't have a press conference before we publish a paper.

Without peer review?  It's not right.

Damnit you two!  Pull your heads outta your asses!  We gotta grab this guy Jones by the balls and squeeze!  Now, I know how these things work.  Let me take care of it.  I've already scheduled a press conference for you, tomorrow!

What?  Tomorrow?

We don't even know what to call the effect we're seeing!

Huh?!  I thought you said it was fusion.

It might be fusion.  It's too big to be chemical.

But if it were conventional fusion we'd be seeing radioactivity... high energy neutrons...

Tritium.  And we aren't seeing much of that.

I'm glad you guys pointed this out to me.  But listen.  I don't want you to sweat it.  Ok?  The main thing is that this whatever-it-is is reproducible.  When we open that curtain at the press conference, and they see your gizmo working, there won't be anything to do but admit that you two geniuses, Pons and Fleischmann, have discovered the answer to all the energy needs of mankind, forever!  Ha ha!  Do you guys have anything to drink around here?

Uh...

Stan and Martin look at each other.

It is reproducible, isn't it?

Well... I mean, yeah...

Most...

Some...

Some of the time.

So it isn't reproducible.

Martin and Stanley hmm and umm for an uncomfortable amount of time.

No.

Oh fuck.

CHASE collapses.

Sometimes it just needs a week or two to get going, and them bammo!  The excess heat just pours out of it...

And sometimes it just doesn't work at all, and we think... "Damn!  Why didn't that work?"

Both Stanley and Martin shrug.

Ugh.  So you're telling me that we can't have a working cell at the press conference?

Well, what if it didn't work?

We'd look like idiots.

CHASE downs another of the drinks.

Well, boys, I don't see a problem here.  And I'll tell you why.  I believe in you two.  You hear me?  I believe in you.  Let me tell you something, boys.  I'm proud.  Very proud.

The lights change.  MUSIC starts.

Oh... you're not going to sing... are you?

You've got a big big future and this is just the start

All you gotta do is play it cool and play it smart

Stick with me boys, I'm your man

Let me tell you about my plan

Your gonna have airplanes and mansions and videogames

You're gonna have wealth and sex and strength and fame

Forget fifteen minutes!  You're the men of the hour!

You found the holy grail.. you found free power!

CHASE begins to dance like a wild man.

Oh please, sir.  We have to work in here...

Somebody's gonna see...

Einstein, Newton, Plank, and Heisenberg

Genius baby, that is the word

You'll win the Nobel, the Booker, the Pulitzer prize

You'll get lots of money from those dead guys

You've done six impossible things before breakfast

You brought us all down from the trees

You found the missing link, the highest prime, and the bottom quark

Announce it all, hold a press conference please

You built the Vatican, the Notre Dame, and the Taj Mahal

You found a cure for mortality

Broke the speed of sound, the speed of light, Finished Franz Shubert's unfinished symphony

Now I'm begging you please on behalf on my staff

The faculty, the donors, the alumni

the student's union, and the football coach

the board of regents and the parking booth guy

Let me tell the world of your amazing triumph

when they know they'll all agree

Doctor Martin Fleischmann, Doctor Stanley Pons

Please let me please put you on TV

CHASE finishes singing.  He ends up on his knees before PONS  and FLEISCHMANN.

Well, what do you say?  Will you do the press conference?

PONS  and FLEISCHMANN look down at their feet... embarrassed but pleased... after all, just a little bit of what he said might be true...

Well...

I don't know.  You rushed the second verse a little bit.

Well, it'll get better.

Ok!

 

Sound of a fax machine connecting, made by human voices.

Lights up

ONE person squats down and pushes a piece of FAX Paper up over his head.  He finishes making the sounds.

A SCIENTIST grabs the paper and looks at it.  Another SCIENTIST looks over his shoulder.

Hmm.  There's something coming in on the FAX machine that looks interesting.

What is it?

It looks like a group at the U of U is announcing some kind of fusion breakthrough tomorrow.

Hmmm!  That sounds like its worth faxing along to a few colleagues.

He puts it back into the fax machine.  All three make FAX noises and wave their arms and spin around into a new position.

Have you seen this?

He passes it to the other two.

Fusion breakthrough?

Make some copies, put 'em up on the bulletin board.  And send a copy of this to the other campus.

More FAX machine sounds and they move to another position.

RAIDERS theme plays.

Now the three are DR. JONES, a SEXY WOMAN and a BAD MAN.  The BAD MAN points a gun at JONES AND THE WOMAN, who hold their hands in the air.  JONES has the FAX.

Ha ha ha!  Now I've got you, Doctor Jones!

Oh, Dr. Jones, you look worried!

Don't sweat it.  I'm not worried about him, or you!  I'm worried about this FAX.  Damnit, Pons and Fleischmann, you said you'd wait!

All three make the FAX sound and run to the next position...

One CHINESE SCIENTIST passes a FAX to another CHINESE SCIENTIST.  The third actor becomes the FAX machine.

Hung tao ching bow wah!

Hoh!  Ign go dow wah dong!

They go to put it the FAX machine.  Two people spin off, the third stays and becomes Scarmuzzi .

Scarmuzzi reads the fax.

Hmm!  Cold Fusion!  Yes!  Yes!  I can work on this!  As certainly as I am Italy's most insane scientist!

No!

Not insane!

Smart!

Italian.

Yes!   ha ha!  Smart!  Ha ha ha!  Italian!

The other two spin back on.

They begin to dance and sing like an old Esther Williams musicals.

Cold fusion!  Cold fusion! 

Reality or Illusion!

The answer to our dreams?

Full of questions and confusion!

Cold fusion!  Cold Fusion!  We want to see cold fusion!

They march in a circle.  A tape takes up the chant... it gets louder and louder... the lights fade and the chant gets louder and louder... until...

Press Conference One

Two reporters are heard entering the house.

What do you mean we can't smoke in here?

Yeah, we're the press!  We can smoke wherever we want!

Yeah!  How'd you like it if I put that cigarette out in your eye!

Two REPORTERS enter the house and look for a seat.

So, what's the deal?  These guys invented jazz fusion?

No.  Cold fusion.  These guys say they invented cold fusion.

What's that?

I don't know.

Boy, not much of a turn-out at this press conference.

I told you, the ticket price is too high.

There's some seats over there.

The REPORTERS find and take their seats.

PONS AND FLEISCHMANN stumble onto stage as if they've been pushed from backstage.  They compose themselves and make their way to the podium.

Good afternoon gentlemen, thank-you for coming.  I'm Doctor Fleischmann, this is my colleague Doctor Pons.

Hi.

Umm.  Ok.  Since 1984 we've been conducting research into possible enhanced energy systems.  Basically, we've established a sustained nuclear fusion reaction by means which are considerably simpler than conventional techniques.  With this process there is a considerable...

Boo!

What?

Boring!

Um.  Sorry.

Cut to the chase!

Well... much more energy is coming out of our device then we're putting into it.

So?

Does this involve sex at all?

Yeah.  Are you two gay?

No!

We're here to report on the results of years of research...

This isn't news!

Come on!  Give us something good!

Give us a sound byte!

'Cause this bites!

Boo!

Listen gentlemen, this could eliminate the greenhouse effect and acid rain!

If it works as it appears to then one cubic foot of sea water would be equivalent to ten tons of coal, but without the pollution.

And if you use heavy water instead of sea water then a cell could generate power for between a hundred thousand and one million years.

It would be the end of the fossil fuel industry!

Oh?

End of the fossil fuel industry!  Well, that's good!

So, the death of fossil fuel eh?  A hundred thousand million years?

Tell us more!

Well, our cell consists basically of a test tube, which you might remember from your high school background...

High school?!

So you're saying any high school student could do this experiment?

Uhh...

That's nice.

I like that.

Is this experiment going on anywhere else?

Uh...

We're not aware of any such experiments.

And you still claim you're not gay?

We're not!

Good enough for me!

Smile!

The REPORTERS flash a camera into PONS and FLEISCHMANN's faces, then start to exit the house, leaving PONS and FLEISCHMANN dazed and blinded onstage.

Thank you!  Thank you gentlemen!

The REPORTERS stand and talk to each other excitedly as they make their way to the exit.

Wow!  Cold Fusion!  This is exciting!

I think I'll run the most outrageous claims on page one, so as to raise public expectations, how 'bout you?

Me too!  Then tomorrow, I'll get some quotes from hot fusion scientists who have a vested interest in this technology not working out!  They'll dump on it!

Hey, good idea!

Thanks!

Still, it would be better if they were gay.

Obviously.

They exit.

 

The stage is dark, except for a CENTRE SPECIAL.2

SFX:  Horse racing bell, horses running.

And they're off!  Initial reactions from most physicists are skeptical...

THREE PHYSICISTS step into the spotlight.  They stand in a row.

I am unconvinced that significant nuclear fusion can occur at near room temperatures.

Doctor Burger?

This is garbage.  The effect is generated by resistance in the cathodes.  It's nothing but wishful thinking.

Doctor Seuss?

Who are these guys and what made 'em able

To do the impossible on a kitchen table?

A nuclear reaction in a little jar?

These guys are crazy.  They've gone too far

They poked their noses where they don't belong

Any physicist can see these guys are wrong

THEY STEP OUT OF THE LIGHT.

Here's Moscow University's Physics faculty, successfully replicating the Pons Fleischmann experiment...

Dr. Runar Kuzmin runs across the spotlight, waving.

It works!

Cold fusion is ahead!  However, here's Princeton Plasma Physics lab announcing no signs of neutrons, tritium or heat...

A MAN FROM PRINCETON runs the opposite way across the spotlight, waving.

It doesn't work!

They're neck and neck!  In Utah, President Chase Peterson petitions the state government to divert special funds to cold fusion research.

CHASE steps into the spotlight.  He's interrogated by an offstage CONGRESSMAN.

So, you think this cold fusion thing is good?

Yes.

Does it hurt?

No.

What colour is it?

Pardon me?

It involves Deuterium and...

Palladium.

Palladium?  Didn't the Beach Boys record their last album at the Palladium?

I believe so, yes, sir.

This isn't going to be just another embarrassing Utah mistake, like the prematurely announced non-working X-Ray laser, or the problematic artificial heart?

There's nothing wrong with that heart!  It... Arghhgh!

HE falls to the floor and convulses out of the spotlight.

He gets five million!  Here's Dr. Matthew's from the Indira Ghandi Centre for Atomic Research in India reporting successful temperature rise...

MATHEWS runs and waves across the spotlight.

It works!

But narrowing the gap is Caltech and the MIT Plasma Fusion centre, not getting temperature rise in the same experiment...

CALTECH runs and waves the opposite way.

It doesn't work!

MIT is right after CALTECH.

I don't think so either!

Hot fusion researchers become nervous!  They see that funds for cold fusion research could be drawn from their own budgets!

RESEARCHER #1 runs and waves across the spotlight.

I want a house!

RESEARCHER #2 runs the opposite way.

I want a car!

Encouraged by his five million dollar success with the Utah government, Chase Peterson is approaching the federal government... he's asking for twenty-five million dollars...

Again, PETERSON enters the spotlight, and is interrogated by an unseen CONGRESSMAN.

Would this cold fusion blow a guy's head off?

Yes.

Would it blow a guy up?

Yes.

President Peterson, if the earth was taken over by strange robots, is it your contention that cold fusion would help small bands of human survivors fight the robots?

What kind of robots?

Space robots.

Space robots?  I would have to say yes.

President Peterson, we understand Dr. Stephen Jones of Brigham Young University is supposed to be testifying here this afternoon.

Yes, that's right sir.  Doctor Jones has been conducting similar research.  I'm sure he'll be here any minute.

We hear the  RAIDERS theme playing just as DR. JONES comes running in through the house wrestling a huge rubber snake.  He eventually makes his way to the spotlight.

Snakes.  Why'd it have to be snakes?

Doctor Jones, is it your opinion that the so-called Cold Fusion effect is an actual phenomenon?

No, Congressman.  No, it is not.

SFX:  Consternation!

Damn you Jones, you know it is!

JONES grabs CHASE by the lapels.

You said we'd publish simultaneously, Peterson!  You lied!  Now all bets are off!

CHASE shakes JONES, JONES drops an idol.  CHASE picks it up and holds it aloft.

It seems that once again Jones what you briefly possessed is now mine.

CHASE runs off with the idol.

Damn you, Chase!  The idol!

JONES runs after him.

Congress' hearings continue!  At Stanford, Dr. Robert A Huggins successfully replicates Pons and Fleischmann's results...

It works!

But Nature magazine reports that they won't ever be replicated...

It won't ever work!

And at Stanford here's Andrew Riley attempting to run the experiment and getting killed in a mysterious explosion...

I'm dead!

It looks like a close race... but oooh... here a dramatic session of the American Physical society.... looks like there's 1500 physicists in attendance, including Dr. Stephen Loonin...

Steven Loonin enters the spotlight.  The other two actors are in the audience, one at the front and one way off to the side.  They get the audience to respond correctly.

...and to sum up my comments, I say to you, that not only does cold fusion not work, but it's stupid, and dumb!

Crowd cheers.

Now I've got nothing against chemists.  Heck, some of my friends are chemists.  In fact some of them are even women.  Black women!  Gay black women chemists, and I love 'em!

Crowd Cheers.

But if these so-called Cold Fusion experts think they can just appear and take all of our hot fusion grant money they got another thing commin'... right?

Yes!

You don't want to see your funding cut off, do you?

No!

Now I want to ask you, does all your knowledge of nuclear physics not tell you to disbelieve them?

No answer.

Well...

That's a tricky one, there's a double negative...

Yeah, do you mean "does our knowledge of physics tell us to disbelieve them"

The answer to which would be "Yes"

Right, or do you mean what you said, which was "Does our knowledge of physics not tell us to disbelieve them"

Which would result in a "no" answer.

Pause.

They're stupid!

Crowd cheers.  The spotlight goes out.

Ooooh!  That did it!  At the finish line it looks like the skeptics have come out ahead, and a mere five weeks after Pons and Fleischmann's initial announcement, Cold Fusion is clearly out of the race!  Again, the Skeptics have won and cold fusion will have a difficult time every racing again in mainstream science!

Open on:  Pons, Fleischmann, and Chase are sitting in the lab, waiting for the phone to ring.  The mood is somber.

We shouldn't have said a high-school student could replicate it.

I know, I know.  We never should have had the press conference before we published.

Bad science.

Very bad science.

We suck.

Hey guys!  Don't be so hard on yourselves!  Did Darwin give up just because people called him a Satanist?

I don't know.

Did Goddard give up just because people proved that rocket flight was impossible?

Who's Goddard?

No they didn't!  And do you know why?  Because they had balls!  Big balls!  Just like you two boys!  You two boys and me!  Big hairy balls hanging down to their knees!  Don't believe me?  Wanna see?

CHASE goes to undo his belt.

No!  That's ok!

Well, ok.  But they are.

We don't even know that what we are seeing is fusion.

And we insulted the physicists by asking the government to give us their funding.

Enough!  I will not have the two of you bad-mouthing the finest chemists the world has ever known!  Not in my university!  Now I want the two of you to quit your moping and set up some more of your cold-fusion cells, and let's get some excess heat!  Pitter-patter, let's get at 'er!

Pons & Fleischmann reluctantly noodle about with their cell. 

SFX:  Phone rings.

Chase Peterson!  Oh hello congressman.  Yes, I was hoping you'd call, do we get the twenty-five million, or what?  Oh.  I see.  Yessir but... I know that, but... yes but... It is not just another Utah mistake!  That artificial heart works just fine!  Aaack!

Chase collapses to the ground.  Pons and Fleischmann rush over to him and inject a needle full of fluid into his heart a la Pulp Fiction.  There is a moment of silence, then Chase bursts back to life with a massive convulsion.

Ugh!  You're fired!

What?

Chase gets up.

We didn't get the money!  We look like dorks!  You bastards!  You lying bastards!  I can't believe I let you hold a press conference before you published!

But...

Do you guys realize you have pissed off every physicist in the country by trying to weasel their grant money!  And then, to top it all off, you go and shoot your mouth off about any high-school student being able to replicate your stupid experiment!

You... two... guys... are assholes!

But you just said...

Shut up!  From now on you are working in the cafeteria!  Do you hear me?  You are reheating chicken fingers until you pay back this university for the palladium, the deuterium, not to mention the ten pounds of gold!  What the hell did you do with that gold, anyway!?

PONS and FLEISCHMANN guiltily cover the gaudy gold medallions we just notice they've been wearing.

Uh... we... uh...

Shut up!  I don't wanna hear about it!

Suddenly everyone freezes.

What?  Could this be the death of Cold Fusion?  Will Pons and Fleishmann prove they were right, or will they spend eternity slinging hashbrowns in a cafeteria?  Join the thermodynamic duo twenty minutes from now for part two of Cold Fusion:  The Musical!

 

Act Two

Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honour and a surprise to welcome you back to act two of Cold Fusion the Musical!  And now, please, once again put your hands together in a warm smattering of applause for your host and MC of the evening, the star of TV's "Who's the Boss"...  funnyman Joe "Slappy" Bird!

Los Vegasy music and lights start up again.  NARRATOR enters and spritzes with the audience in a really cheesy way.  When the time is right, he begins to sing.

The years was 1990,

our heroes lives were bleak

they'd been sent up the river 
And also down the creek 
 
They had been mocked and bothered 
and held to ridicule 
for trying to use water 
as an infinite fuel

 
The funded fusion physicist

had clearly won the game

Disgracing Pons and Fleischmann

Pelting them with shame 
 
The physicists were smug with pride 
They'd kept the leaders on their side 
they thought that they had turned the tide 
with scientific homicide 

Working in the Cafeteria

PONS AND FLIESCHMANN are wearing white aprons, hairnets, and big rubber gloves.

I can't believe we're working in the cafeteria.

I know.  We look like Laverne and Shirley.

To one side of the stage CARL, wearing the same white uniform as our heroes but very very stained, enters struggling with a large mimed barrel.

Hey, you two!  Come here and give me a hand with this barrel of spaghetti sauce!

Careful there, it's heavy.

PONS and FLEISCHMANN follow CARL'S gestured directions and shove the big barrel across the stage.

Bloody heavy sauce!

Stupid heavy sauce!

Bloody extra meatballs!

Dumb, dumb extra meatballs!

There you go, you can just set it down there.  You must be those two doctors, eh?  Who came up with that brilliant cold fusion idea.

I'm Doctor Carl Whitenstien; I invented the X-Ray Laser.

Oh!

Ok, so foodstuffs are stored back here; normally you'll be working on the dishwasher, its in the back.  Old Doc Van Katz, he'll show you what to do.  He's been around here for years.  In the 20's he discovered N-Rays.

What rays?

Exactly.  Ok, I gotta go get extra beef, its sloppy joe day today so there's gonna be lots of people.  I need you to cover for me dishing food up front.  You just stay here, dish the food, anybody gives you any trouble you call Doc Van Katz.  Ok?  Nice to meet ya.

Oh, and they got cameras on us, so don't steal nothin'.

CARL exits.

Martin, we gotta go suck up to President Peterson.

Easy, Stanley.

But Martin, he said that other guy has been here since the 20's.  Martin, I can't stay down here for seventy years!

Relax, you'll be dead in seventy years.

But we can't stay here!  It's not fair!  It's not fair!  Just because we thought we'd discovered Cold Fusion...

MR. TOYOTA, an older very dignified oriental man enters.

Excuse me!  I couldn't help overhearing.  Are you the honourable Doctors, Pons and Fleischmann?

Yes.

Hai!  Fleischmann-son.  Hai!  Pons-son.  Let me introduce myself.  I am Mr. Toyota.  I own the Toyota corporation.

Really?

What are you doing in Utah?

I am a guest lecturer here.  I am giving a talk entitled "Why the Japanese Buyout of America is Good for America".  But tell me, why are you two honourable Doctors dressed in such a bizarre fashion?

Well...

Our cold fusion idea hasn't been received as well as we might have hoped.

Your University is dissatisfied?  I do not understand.  We in Japan feel the cold fusion process to be most promising.

Well, around here they don't seem to share your opinion.

Honourable Pons and Fleischmann, forgive me for being too forward, but if you are not pleased with your current employers, perhaps you would consider the sponsorship of my humble multi-national mega-corporation?

Why?  Do you need somebody to work in your cafeteria?

FLEISCHMANN kicks PONS.

We would be honoured to have brilliant Doctors B. Stanley Pons and Martin Fleischmann come work in our labs.  Or if you prefer, we could build you a facility.  Perhaps in Nice, France?

Oh, France!  I've always wanted to go to France!

I'm afraid we'd have to pay you a lot of money.

PONS and FLEISCHMANN look at each other, then rip their aprons off and dance around.

PONS hugs TOYOTA.

Mr. Toyota, you got yourself a deal!

This is exactly what we'd been hoping for!

You asked for it, you got it, Toyota.  Ha ha ha ha ha!  Now I must go!  My sloppy joes are getting cold, and my delicious Dixie cup is getting all melty.  Here is my card.  I will be in touch.  Hai!

He bows and leaves.

This is incredible, Martin.

Its not often in life that you get a second chance Stanley.  And this time we're going to do it right.

What do you mean?

We're going to work on cold fusion, Stanley.  We're going to work on it as hard as we can.  But the world's not going to hear from us.  The world's not going to hear from us until we've got a working cold fusion engine, patented and ready to sell.  Then they'll see.  Then they'll all see.  The chains of ignorance can bind man no longer!

So.  Do you want to go get something to eat?

Yeah.  Ok.

They exit.

C F Underground Montage

Slide "1991-1997"

The announcer enters.

So Pons and Fleischmann went to Nice

They worked and they watched the heat increase

They toiled and they troubled at their little work bench

They ate bagettes and tried to learn French

The heat increased, the effect grew stronger

Until at long last, they could wait no longer

They started mass production and a little while later!

There's a cold fusion car and a home generator!  Yee ha!

Press Conference Two: Electric Boogaloo

Pons and Fleischmann arrive at a podium amidst lots of flashes.

Give it up ladies and gentlemen for Joe "Slappy" Bird!  Well, it's been a long while since we last met.  We would like to begin by reading a passage written by Arthur C. Clarke in 1968.

"When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right.  When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong."

We are here today to announce to the world the results of fourteen years of research into an anomaly that many wise old physicists have declared impossible.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Technova Corporation, a subsidiary of the Toyota Corporation presents, the Cold fusion-powered Toyota Corolla...

SLIDE of sleek futuristic car.

Oooh!  Sleek!

Sexy!  The Cold Fusion Powered home generator!

SLIDE of huge industrial generator.

It's only that big.

That big.  The Cold-Fusion powered airplane engine!

SLIDE of airplane.

And the Cold Fusion Powered lawn mower.

SLIDE of lawnmower.

That's his lawn.

It's my lawn!

The cold-fusion powered electric toothbrush isn't here today but we do have it in prototype stage.

Yeah, but we don't want to reveal it yet because you might not believe us.

They both stick their tongues out at the reporters.

A reporter stands and takes a picture.  The flash blinds PONS and FLEISCHMANN and they stagger offstage.

Happy White Consumers

The reporter stands onstage and addresses the audience.

The Cold Fusion Revolution hit the planet like nothing before.  Not since the invention of the Rubik's cube had something so important been purchased by so many, for so little...

A happy family dances around laughing.

Hey Dad!  Can I borrow the Toyota tonight?  I've got a hot date!

Sure son, just don't forget to fill it up!  If you can afford the water!

They laugh their asses off as they dance the dance of the Happy White Consumer.

Honey?  With the money we've saved over the past year on energy costs, we can afford to take a cold fusion powered jet liner to smog-free Los Angeles, get a cold fusion powered rent-a-car, and drive it to Disneyland to see the cold-fusion powered Abe Lincoln.

Oh Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Mom, Dad!  Look, the Ozone is back!

Thanks Cold Fusion!

And the average yearly temperature has stopped rising!

Thanks Pons and Fleischmann!

Oh and look!  The rampant deforestation of the earth is being done by Cold-Fusion Powered Clearcutters.

Yaaaaaaaaaaay!

They dance off.

Klein

RALPH KLEIN sits at his desk.  The phone rings.

Hello, Ralph Klein.  I care, I listen.  Oh, yes Nancy, send them in.

Two reporters come in.

Come in gentlemen.  It's always good to have members of the press come to visit.  Did you have any trouble getting here?

We ran into a bit of traffic, premier.

Well, they should be finished working on the high-level bridge any day now.  Gentlemen, I've asked you in here today to give you some good news.  It's taken a lot of work, and lots of cuts, but tomorrow morning I'm going to announce that as of our next tabled budget, Alberta will be debt-free.

Fantastic!

Wonderful!

It wasn't easy.  We had to cut back some services, tighten our belts.  It was a shame to sell Banff.  But, with the aid of my groundbreaking and progressive poverty tax, and the mandatory gambling in bars, we've managed to do it.

Does this mean that the forced labour camps for unwed mothers will be phased out?

No, however they will be privatized.  Yes gentlemen, I can't tell you how good it feels to have that debt gone.  You know, I don't mind saying it was getting to be a little nerve-wracking, what with the deadline coming up.

Ah, yes, the Budgetary Deficit Deadline act of '96.

Exactly.  If we hadn't gotten rid of the debt this year, myself and the whole government side of the legislature would have been spanked in public.  But, now that won't happen... thanks in part, of course, to our steady income from oil and gas revenue...

Then you haven't heard?

About what?

Toyota announced a working cold fusion device today.

A whatchamawho?

A cold fusion device.

I've got it on today's paper.

I don't have my Nintendo here.

Here, I've got it on the Sun.  That's right, the Edmonton Sun, not too hard to read and chock full o' scantily clad women!  Now available in handy mint info-pill!

Pulls out a pill and hands it to Ralph.

Mmmm!  I love, mint!

Just eat it.

He eats it.

Hmm... there's a good deal on an '87 Caravan in the classifieds.

It's on page two.  "Cold Fusion device announced."

The sidebar reads "Klein to be spanked."

Any comments?

Oh poo.

Nobel Prize

And now, ladies and gentlemen, the two men you've been waiting for... winners of the noble prizes for chemistry, physics, and lawnmower research... Stanley Pons and MC Martin Freshman!

Famous Strut

Music:  Cool jazzy bass.

PONS and FLEISCHMANN strut around the stage, taking big rhythmical steps together.  (Like Peter Gabriel in the video for Steam.)

They semi-rap their lines in time to the music.

Since the money started rolling in I've been feeling sexy

I'm on the cover of GQ and Science Weekly

My hair's getting fuller and my abs are getting buff

Master of the scientific method and the art of love

PONS holds his hands over his head and does a big pelvic thrust.

I am the envy of my scientific friends

I have been on Oprah and David Letterman

No one's every been this smart, they'll never be again

I'm even more famous than Carl Sagan

We're famous!  We're famous!

The critics all agree!

The couple of the decade!

highlight of the century!

As they strut around the stage a REPORTER scurries after them.  When they respond to him they speak their lines normally.

Doctor Pons, with one half of the cold fusion patent, you must be doing alright financially.

Let's just say I'm the one Bill Gates comes to when he wants someone to back his little schemes.

Doctor Fleischmann, didn't you buy Roseanne's mansion?

It's for the Martin Fleischmann home for sick kids.  I'm deeply humbled to realize that in spite of all I've done for the world there are still some people I haven't been able to help yet.

Presidents and rock stars kneel at my feet

At every University I've got a seat

I bought myself an island for a little treat

Houses?  I've got plenty.  Cars?  I've got a fleet.

My name is in the textbooks, and I'm on a postage stamp

When I give my lectures I make the young girls damp

No more paying for anything, I get it for free

I'm a sexy young Prometheus with Adonis' body

Another pelvic thrust from PONS.

We're famous!  We're famous!

We're always on TV

The highlight of the era

Climax of the century

The REPORTER enters again.

Are they going to make a movie?

Yes.

I heard they wrote another book.

I've stopped reading them.

Is there gonna be a cereal and a line of toys and a Saturday morning cartoon?

Oh yeah!

What about concerns that the American economy might be undercut by your Japanese-manufactured cold fusion device?

Not my problem, baby.

The reporters scurries off. 

We're famous!  We're famous!

The sun shines out our ass

They read about our story

In every science class

A reporter enters.

Doctor Pons, we heard that the American stock market fell a record number of points again today.  Any comments?

I just want to say hi to all my fans!  Woo woo!

Doctor Fleischmann, unemployment in North America has reached forty percent and shows no signs of stopping.

My turn ons include French cuisine, girls with green eyes, and skiing.

Doctor Pons, any comments about the death sentence declared on you and Doctor Fleischmann today by a national coalition of right-wing organizations?

Ask my business manag--

The MUSIC abruptly stops.  PONS and FLEISCHMANN look at each other.

Death sentence?

Visa

One REPORTER addresses the audience.

Yes, throughout North America, the economic effects of the Japanese-owned Cold Fusion Revolution were beginning to be felt.

Lights up on a FATHER and LITTLE BOY in a pet store.  LITTLE BOY holds a puppy.  They talk to CLERK.

I want the puppy, daddy, I want the puppy.

Oh, alright, son.

I'll put it on Visa.

Yes sir.

CLERK goes to ring it through.

What are you going to name him, son?

Elmo.

Elmo?!

Heh heh heh heh.

I'm sorry sir, this didn't go through.

What, am I over my limit?

No, the visa people say they're out of money.

Damn you, Pons and Fleischmann!

President's Reaction

SLIDE -- "THE OVAL OFFICE-- 1999"

SFX:  PRESIDENTIAL THEME

Wow.  Who would have thought that I, Gene Simmons from Kiss, would one day be president of the United States.

TWO AIDES COME IN.

Mr. President?

Yes, come in gentlemen.  I take it you've analyzed the economic situation?

Yes we have sir, and it doesn't look good.

Within a few years these Japanese-made cold fusion engines have managed to become the primary source of energy in the world.

And the effect on us?

We haven't been able to get up to speed.  Our oil, gas, steel, consumer goods sectors -- they've all been crippled.

However, for some reason Hasbro, the people that make that game Kerplunk, are doing really well.

I see.

Without industry, we don't have much of a tax base.

We haven't been able to borrow much hard currency.

The police in most major cities haven't been paid for the last few months.

In short sir, we're facing the disintegration of the country -- unless we come up with an American product to compete with these cold-fusion engines.

A rival product, eh?

Something everybody wants.  Something big.

Well, I could get the band back together.

GENE does a little air guitar.

No!  No!  That won't be necessary!

No more boots!

Put away your tongue!

You promised, sir!

GENE reluctantly complies.

Actually, sir, I've got a product in mind.  Its all-American, and its every bit as cutting-edge as the cold fusion engine.

Ooooh!

The AIDE presses a button on a remote control and a slide of a goofy looking edible car comes up.

Gentlemen, I give you the Edible Car.

Coup de Chase

Ominous militaristic music.  The stage is black, but slowly is lit blood red.

Spotlight on Gene Simmons.

But I, Gene Simmons from Kiss wasn't successful in my plan... all over America edible cars rotted in showrooms.  Jobs disappeared.  Businesses closed down.  Banks went broke.  Everywhere you went, it was like Saskatchewan.

Spotlight off on GENE, up on Aide #2.

Eventually, the government fell.  Anarchy reined supreme.  People started wearing furs and talking like cavemen.  There was no government, no law, library books weren't returned and people didn't pay for parking...

The stage goes completely dark.  It begins to be lit dark red.  We notice someone is standing heroically on-stage, but backlit, so we can't see who it is.

...And all throughout North America the mob cried for leadership... demanded revenge... one man rose to heed this call, one man grabbed the reins of power with an iron fist and tried to bring forth order from the chaos... some called him savior... some called him dictator... all called him...

Lights up on CHASE.  He's wearing some kind of dictator outfit.

Chase Peterson!  And this country's fucked!

Lights normal.  We're in his office.  An ASSISTANT comes in.

Emperor Peterson, the people are hungry, they cry for food.

So?  Tell 'em we got no food!

No!  Wait!  Crucify David Hasseloff!  That'll keep 'em happy for a while.  Take their minds of their troubles.  Now, bring Jones in here!

The assistant bows, brings in Dr. JONES in chains, then leaves.

So, Doctor Jones, we meet again!

Damn you, Chase, it looks like we do.

Listen, Jones, I got a little proposition for ya.

I'm not interested.

Look out that window, kid.  Those people are angry.  They want revenge.  I'm a dictator, its my job to give it to 'em.

Yeah, so?

You and I know there's two people, and all of this is their fault.

Pons and Fleischmann.

Look, they fucked you, and they fucked me.  They're hiding out somewhere in Japan, I want you to bring 'em back here, and we'll hang their bodies outside the palace.

Why me?

Because you're the best.

Here, take those off.

JONES takes the shackles off, rubs his wrists.

How do you know I won't just run away?

Because I know you, Jones.  You won't even admit it to yourself, but you want their butts in a sling as much as I do.  I can read people, Jones; that's why I'm the emperor of America and you're just a Mormon in a stupid hat.

I've got a stupid hat?

Now get out of here!  I'm a busy guy!

We'll meet again, Peterson.

JONES splits.

Oooh, I'm shaking.

Note to myself.  Move up the ritual execution of the cast of the Love Boat to this week.  Except for Gopher.  I like that little bugger.  Just poke his eyes out.  Oh!  And make sure and keep the lions hungry!  If things go according to plan I'm going to have two big fat electrochemists for them to eat.  Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!  Ha!

Visa Post Apocalypse

SLIDE: "Meanwhile in America, things continued to get worse."

FATHER and LITTLE BOY in a pet store.  They talk to CLERK.

I want the puppy, daddy, I want the puppy.

Yes son, I'm hungry too.

I'll barter with these shiny shells.

Yes sir.

What are you going to name him son?

I'm not going to name him.  I'm going to eat him.

Heh heh heh heh.

I'm sorry sir, we can't take these shells.

What, is something wrong with them?

No, this store is just a trap.  My puppy and I have lured you in here so we could slaughter and eat you and your son.

Damn you, Pons and Fleischmann!

The puppy begins to chew on the FATHER'S arm.

Ow!  Stupid puppy!

Ninja

A NINJA enters, making the sound of rushing wind to emphasize his kung-fu movements.

FLEISCHMANN enters.

Halt!  Who goes there!

It's just me, Doctor Fleischmann.

You should not be out here, Doctor Fleischmann.  We have received word that there are assassins.

I couldn't stay cooped up in there any longer.  I'll only stay a moment.

Want a drink?

FLEISCHMANN offers him the flask.  The NINJA looks around to see if anybody's watching then takes it

Ok.  You won't tell?

FLEISCHMANN shakes his head.  The NINJA takes a swig and passes it back to FLEISCHMANN, who has another swig.

They stand together a moment.  The NINJA continues his kung-fu stuff and Bruce-Lee style sound effects.

Do you have to make those sounds?

I have asthma.

Ah.

THEY sit for another minute.

So, is it a good job, being a ninja?

It's ok.  You have to have good feet.

Ah.

And being an electrochemist, Doctor Fleischmann, how do you like this?

I don't know.  I used to.

I would think you would be proud, Doctor.  You have changed the world.

I suppose.

You have made our country more prosperous than any other.

Well, that's kind of the problem, er...

Larry.

Larry.  I mean, I need you to protect me from my own countrymen.

Ah!  This is true.  Yes, I suppose that does suck.

FLEISCHMANN offers him another swig.  He takes it, swallows it.

DOCTOR JONES appears behind the two of them, clutching a rock in one hand.  He sneaks up behind the NINJA.

Well, its like that being a ninja, too, sometimes.  People are always afraid of you, like you're going to sneak up behind them and bash them on the head with a rock.

JONES bashes the NINJA on the head with a rock, and the NINJA goes down.

Doctor Jones!

That's right Fleischmann, and this is for announcing your cold fusion research before I had time to publish, you dirty chemist.

Hits him on the chin.  FLEISCHMANN falls down on his ass.

Now get up.  We've gotta collect your little friend, and then we're going back to the states.

The states?  Why?

You're gonna pay for what you've done.  You're booked to appear at Emperor Peterson's Public Execution-O-Rama '99, right after the monster truck show.

Peterson.  I can't believe you've hooked up with him, Jones.

You're a fine one to talk, holed up here in this fancy place while kids starve back in Utah.

It's not our fault people wouldn't take our technology... we offered it to them.

And then when they didn't take it right away you let Toyota and the rest of 'em destroy the western economy, while you got rich.  Come on, Doctor, let's go get Pons...

Suddenly, JOSEPH SMITH appears in a bright light with the sound of heaven opening up.

Steven Jones!

Who the hell?

Watch your language!  It is I, Joseph Smith, leader of the Mormon people.

Joseph Smith?

You are Mormon, Steven Jones, yet what you do is wrong.  Stop this thing.  Let the coffee-drinker go free!  God will choose his destiny, not you.  This is as certain as the fact that it's ok for a man to have more than one wife.

We don't do that any more.

I know.  And it pisses me off.  Now go, and leave Fleischmann in peace.

But... how do I know you're really Joseph Smith?

Because you're a Mormon.  You'll believe anything.

You are Joseph Smith!

SMITH disappears.

Who are you talking to?

It's your lucky day, Doctor.  I'm letting you go.

Why?

I guess if you want to sit here in comfort while the world goes to pot its on your conscience, not mine.

Now I gotta go, it's a long ride back to Utah, and I got to do it lashed to the periscope of a German U-boat.

Good-bye, Doctor Jones.

So long, Fleischmann.  Punch Pons for me when you see him.

RAIDERS THEME blares, while JONES runs heroically offstage, through the house, if possible.

FLEISCHMANN looks down at the NINJA.

Mr. Ninja!  Mr. Ninja!  He's gone, you can get up now!

The NINJA gets up bashfully, lamely attempts to look cool.

You're not even a real ninja, are you?

Yes!  Yes I am!  I am a real ninja!

FLEISCHMANN picks up JONES'S rock and holds it up threateningly.

No you're not.  Look at you.  Oooh ooh ninja, I've got a rock!

The NINJA bursts into tears and runs away.

Run away!  Crybaby!  Crybaby ninja!

Visa Three

SLIDE: "Ug!  Things in Amererica continue get more bad."

FATHER and LITTLE BOY and CLERK.  They all jump around and act like monkeys.

Ug!  Ug ug ug bug ug ug puppy!

The FATHER grabs the puppy from the LITTLE BOY, sniffs its ass, and hands it to the CLERK.

Ugh gu booga ug ug gugna!

Arghgh!

The CLERK takes the puppy and dances around like an idiot.

Gug gu?

Ug nug ergh ug booga nug!

Heh heh heh heh.

The CLERK throws the puppy down, pushes the FATHER and beats his chest Tarzan-style.  The two of them do a little dominance dance.

Argh belargh ug booga argh!

Ug?

Ug barghgh!

Damn you, Pons and Fleischmann!

ALL THREE dance around and beat their heads in a comical manner.

P& F's Ballad

The stage is black.  We hear a phone machine playing back its messages.

Yeah, hello!  This is a representative of the American-Anti-Cold-Fusion Freedom Foundation.  We just want you to know that you two assholes are on our list.  You'll never know when, you'll never know how, but we know where you are, room 2317 at the Tokyo Hilton, and we are waiting... patiently waiting for you to flush the toilet and then BOOM!... I mean... uh... uh, forget what I said just now... oh shit.

Dial tone.

Lights up.  PONS sits on the stage, listening to his machine.

Hullo!  Dr. Pons?  Dr. Fleischmann?  This is Akira, your manager here.  I got your tour schedule... Let's see... there's the University of Moscow on the 8th, The University of Prague on the 9th, Wembley on the 10th... oh boy!  I hope guys have been doing your exercises!  You guys got more dates than the Rolling Stones!  Heh heh heh!  Oh, I forgot, they're dead...  Ok, bye!

Dial tone.  Pons' wife's voice comes on.  She has obviously been crying.

Stanley?  It's your wife.  Remember me?  I'm the woman you convinced to move to France?  Well, we here at your home were just sort of wondering if... you know... you were still alive... or if you still... loved... us...

She breaks down and hangs up.  Pons sighs.  He begins to sing.

I'm not an action hero, I'm not a star

or an exhibitionist, 
I'm just a very scared and lonely 
electrochemist 

Fleischmann quietly slips into the room, unnoticed and disheveled.  He watches Pons sing.

I'm so alone!  I have no life 
I'm a well-respected scientist 
Who's misses his wife 

I can't run, can't run

I can't hide, can't hide

I can't get away,

Cold Fusion, it's comin' after me

Cold Fusion, it's killing me by degrees

 
I'm just a chemist who destroyed the economy of his country and wishes he was just doing research and experimenting in his basement back in Utah! 
Oh Utah!  I  miss your happy memories! 
I miss your Mormons and your trees! 
I don't want no Shangri-La,

I'm fed up with this brouhaha 
I wanna live in America 
I want my home in Utah-ha 

Fleischmann quietly goes over to the door and closes it loudly to make Pons think he just came home.

Oh, uh, hello Martin.

Hello Stanley.  I, uh, just had a run in with Steven Jones.

Really?  What did he want?

Well, at first he said something about a public execution, then he got weird and left.

Public execution?

Yes.

I'm not cut out for this kind of life... I'm a chemist... that's all I've ever wanted to be.

I know what you mean.  I don't know if I'd even remember how to configure a re-combiner.

Course you would.

Yeah... that sort of thing never really leaves you...

Like riding a bike.

Or measuring sub-atomic isotope levels in aqueous solutions.

I'm tired of this.  Let's go home.

Home to America?

I just can't help but feel somehow responsible, for what's going on back there.

I know.  I was feeling the same way.

We could do research... maybe discover something new... visit president Peterson.

It's Emperor Peterson now, and he's offered Hawaii to the person who can bring him our severed heads.

Aw, that's just politics.  Peterson's our friend.

Well, I'll go back if he promises not to kill us.

I'll call him.

Alright.  I have to use the facilities.

Fleischmann exits.  Pons picks up the phone and starts dialing.

Oh, don't flush the toilet, it'll explode.

What?

SFX:  Peeing.

I said don't... Hello?  President Chase Peterson please... I'm sorry, Emperor Chase Peterson.  It's B. Stanley Pons... yes I'll hold... I said the toilet is... hello?  President Peterson?  Yes, it's B. Stanley Pons... I'm calling from Tokyo...  Yeah, actually, that's why I'm calling.  We want to come visit you... what?  You'll pick us up?  Air force One?  Gee, that'd be great... thanks.  Seven o'clock... sure, we'll be there.  You promise not to kill us?  Thanks...

SFX:  Flush and explosion.

Martin?  Martin!

Pons runs off.

Airplane 1999

PONS and FLEISCHMANN are in Air Force 1 with CHASE.

Damn, it's good to see you boys again!  How do you like Airforce One?  I've had it re-done.

What are those on the wall?

Human teeth!  They used to belong to Gene Simmons from Kiss.  Whoo!  What stinks?

A commode exploded on me.

Oh yeah?  Whaddaya been doin?  You been foolin' around?  Eh?  You been doin' something weird?

So, Emperor Peterson, how are things in America these days?

Oh, you know.  Not so bad.  We turned Manhattan island into a walled prison, where America's most brutal criminals are dumped and left to their own devices... forming their own strange societies and savage rituals... ooh look, we're flying directly overtop of it.

Suddenly the plane lurches.

Whoa!  What the hell was that?!  Is that pilot drunk again?  Hey buddy, I thought I told you to lay off the booze!

He goes to check the cockpit.

We're coming down awful fast.

It's probably an air current.

CHASE returns.

Air current my ass!  The god damned pilot's bailed out!

Dramatic Chord

Why would he do that?

To kill us.  He's set the plane to crash!

But why kill us?

Are you kidding?  This is someone's chance to take control of the country and kill America's two most hated men all at once.  And you know who's probably behind it?  Old toothless Gene Simmons from Kiss!  Damnit, I didn't think he was that smart... unless he's working with Paul Stanley again...

It's ok, don't panic.  Electrochemistry and aerodynamics are inexorably linked at a fundamental level.

What the fuck are you talking about?

I can land the plane.

Oh!  Great!  Well... land it then!

They enter the cockpit.  Pons takes the controls.  He flips switches and dials.

Hmm.  Yup... Uh huh.  And this one should be here... and... uh huh.  There.

The plane nosedives.

Well, I'll let you guys fool around up here.  I'd better get in the pod.

What Pod?

You've got a pod?

Um... nothing... I'll be right back.

FLEISCHMANN grabs Chase.

Why should you get the pod?

'Cause I'm the fucking Emperor of the United States!

Yeah well I'm the guy who discovered cold fucking fusion!

What?!  It was both of our's idea!

Well... look, who taught who electrochemistry?

Martin!  We worked on it together!

Well... you helped... a little...

You want to go?  Huh, big man, you want to go?

I've been studying Kung-Fu.

You've been studying Kung-Fu... I've been studying Kung-Fu.

I could out Kung-Fu you any day, Doctor B. Stanley Pons.

You Kung-Fu me?  No no no.  I Kung-Fu you!

Let's rock and roll.

Pons and Fleischmann start a star trek type battle. 

Music:  Star Trek Fight Music.

Chase flattens both of them with one punch each.

Jesus Christ you two!  You're not Captain fucking Kirk, you're chemists!  I, on the other hand, am the Emperor of the United States of America and can probably do anything!  Now let's see how this plane thingee works.

Chase wrestles with the controls and levels out the airplane.  Pons and Fleischmann get up, rubbing their jaws.

See?  There.  Yeah.  You've got to handle it like a woman.  No wonder you eggheads couldn't do it!  I could do this and balance a beer on one knee!

That was close.  You almost got us killed there, Stanley.

Shut up, stupid.

Whee!  I'm gonna do a loop de loop!  Wanna see me do a loop de loop?

Did you mean what you said about you inventing cold fusion?

Oh come on, Stanley.  I let you get half the credit.

Whee!  I'm Charles Fuckin' Lindbergh!  Whoo!

You let me take half the credit?!  Half the credit was mine!  Maybe a little more than half...

Oh, shut up Stanley.

Both of you shut up!  Now we're going to Washington, and when we get there, I'm going to feed you both to lions.

Feed us to lions?

But you promised you wouldn't kill us.

"But you promised you wouldn't kill us!"  It's what the public wants.  We've already killed Mr. T., Erik Estrada, and Ralph Nadar; and the economy still hasn't improved.  Maybe if we kill you two, people will start spending again.

But...

You can't kill us!  We're good chemists!

Besides, we're on the verge of discovering something, right Martin?

Uh, right, it's bigger than Cold Fusion...

Yeah!  It's going to be absolutely huge... and we want America to have it.

Yeah?  What is it?

Uh... it's... uh... an edible car?

Shut up!  You don't think we tried that?

Uh, a bathtub that turns the faucet off when it's full?

Hmm... good idea, but hardly bigger than Cold Fusion.  You assholes are the reason America's gone to the dogs, and you are going to pay the price!  Now sit down, and fasten your seatbelts, I've never landed one of these before.

Pons and Fleischmann sit dejectedly and fasten their seat belts.  They see Dr. Jones.

Dr. Jones!

What?  Where?

I told you we'd meet again.

Oh.  Heh heh heh... It's good to see you Stevie boy...

Thanks a lot for catching Pons and Fleischmann for me...

I decided against it.

Well no matter.  Now it looks like I'll have three electrochemists to sacrifice... heh heh heh, Now sit down and shut up!

Jones pulls out a gun and cocks it behind Chase's head

I don't think so.

Oh.  Heh heh heh... Jonesie baby!  I was kidding!  I wouldn't kill you...

Chase cranks the steering wheel.  Jones falls to the ground. 

Heh heh heh!  So long, Dr. Jones!

Chase pushes a button and the door pops open. 

The door!

SFX:  Wind rushing out of the cabin.  Jones grabs on to Fleischmann's arm to keep from being sucked out the door.

Damn you Peterson!

Jones loses grip of Fleischmann and grabs on the the wing.  Most of his body is outside of the plane, but he holds tightly to the wing.

Come on Jones!  Let go of the damn wing!

Chase unbuckles himself and goes over to Jones.  He stomps on Jone's fingers.

Arrgh!

Jones loses his grip and slides out of the cabin, but he still hangs on to the wing, dangling off it.

Jesus Christ man, don't you ever give up!?

Chase takes Jones' gun and fires at his fingers.  As this is happening, Pons and Fleischmann unbuckle themselves and kick Chase in the ass, sending him out onto the wing.  They slam the door behind him, and watch through the porthole. 
Action climax music plays as Chase and Jones battle on the wing.  They have an impossible battle, complete with absurdly loud punches.  Jones gets the upper hand and is about to throw Chase off the wing...

Jones... wait... there's something I have to tell you...

What is it?

I'm your father.

Liar!

Jones moves to throw Chase off the wing again.

No, it's true!  I used to be a Mormon, like yourself, but then I discovered the true power of the dark side.  Join me Steven... Join me and together we will rule the Galaxy!  Or at least what's left of the United States...

Jones undergoes a monumental moral struggle.

Neverrrrrrrrr!

He throws Chase off the wing.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

Jones bangs on the door of the airplane.

Hey!  Let me in!  Let me in!

Martin, what should we do?

I think we should let him in.

Why?  He hates us!

Stanley, if there's one thing I've learned through all this, it's that us electrochemists have got to stick together.  We can't let petty pride and bickering get in the way of our quest for truth.

Does that mean you're sorry for saying you invented Cold Fusion?

Yes, I guess it does.

They hug.

Open the damn door!

They do.  Quick burst of wind.  They close the door.

Wow!  Good fighting.

Yeah... so, does either of you know how to land a plane?

Pons and Fleischmann look at each other.

Oh yeah.

With all the excitement, I forgot we were speeding through the air without a pilot.

I'll take that as a no.  Any parachutes on board?

Aparently there's a pod somewhere.

That'd only take one of us.

I'll go.

JONES grabs an inflatable raft from under a seat.

Alright, we'll use this inflatable raft.

Jones kicks open the door.   
SFX: Wind.

What?

On the count of three, I'll start the inflation and we all jump into it... we should be able to land in that river down there... just before the waterfall... ready?

Are you sure about this?

Hell no, I'm making it up as I go along.

Is it safe?

You got a better idea?

All three look at each other for a beat.

JONES jumps.

Geronimo!

FLEISCHMANN jumps.

Geronimo!

PONS jumps.

Wait!  I've got a better idea!

The lights drop to black.

Slow inspirational music begins.  Four separate pools of light come up.  One by one they are peopled with Jones, Chase, Pons, and Fleischmann, as the voice over speaks.

Chase enters his spotlight.

Chase Peterson miraculously survived his 25000 foot fall, by landing on Opera legand Luciano Pavarotti, only to die two weeks later by the curse of many a dictator and pope... syphilis.

Damn.

Jones enters his spotlight.

Dr. Stephen Jones replaced Emperor Chase Petereson and restored democracy and Mormon ideals to the United States of America.  He still searches for the one armed man he holds responsible for the death of his wife.

Pons and Fleischmann enter their spotlight.

Pons and Fleischmann returned to electrochemistry, and are happily researching Cold Fusion hand in hand with the Japanese, at the University of New Utah, located in the former Salt Lake City, since renamed, Pons and Fleischmannopolis.

Everyone sings.

Did we guess the future,  
are we right on track?

Is cold fusion real,  
or a bunch of crap 

One thing is for certain,  
beyond the shadow of a doubt

we've got your money, the shows over,  
so get the hell out!
 

THE END