Яппаньки вам,уважаем(ый)(ая)(ое)!


and a number to
contact if the viewer has any information. It disappears and Ryk is seated at
a table in a darkened room. A shadowy figure sits across from him. Ryk:
Welcome back. I'm here with an individual who has requested anonymity. He - -
or she, since we can make him or her sound like whatever we want - - claims to
have information about Thaere that might help to explain what we've seen this
past week. Guest?

Guest: Yes. I know much. You know little. Nerf-herding follower of bantha
tracks. Shaggy beast of wampalike intellect.

Ryk: Um...

Guest: You do not know. I know.

Ryk: Well, no. That's why you're here. So we can talk about what you
know.

Guest: Fool! I am evil overlord! You bow down to me!

He stands, shoving back his chair, and pulls a half-meter wooden rod from
one leg of his pants.

Guest: Fear my lightsaber!

Ryk: Um... That's a stick.

Guest: Die, coward scum of not-Sith!

He tries to toss the table aside and finds it too heavy. He shoves at it.
It moves a few centimeters. He curses - - everything but "poodoo" gets
censored - - and trudges around the table, stick in hand.

Ryk: Guards? Hello, guards?

A stun blast comes from off-camera. The shadowy man with the stick falls
unconscious. We fade out. When the picture returns, Ryk doesn't seem to have
moved, but someone different sits across from him.

Ryk: We're back. Security has detained the previous guest, who apparently
didn't have all that much to tell us anyway. Our next interviewee will
hopefully shed a little more light on the situation. And - -

He looks off-camera. Ryk: And I've been told that this one isn't carrying
any large sticks with which
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