Sliders: Your Ad Here (2 of 8)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

Quinn walked through what was once Golden Gate Park, but was now Golden Gate Square. Colored lights were flashing and playing across every surface in dizzying patterns, projected by the seemingly endless neon signs that were on every store. He couldn't seem to shake the dazed expression he wore. It was a reflection of how he was feeling inside. He had never seen any world like the one he was in now.

Wade's head was constantly in motion as she took in their new surroundings. She locked onto a Ford Truck that drove by, the phrase "Ford Trucks Are Ram Tough" printed on both bumpers.

"Advertising," Wade said. "It's on *everything.* The cars, the clothes, the buildings, the clouds..."

Quinn glanced up at the clouds. Or what he had thought were clouds. It turned out they were sky-writers that were spelling out "Campbell Soups Are Mm-Mm Good" in

white smoke.

"Yes," Arturo murmured. "And it seems as if this is not an isolated incident. This entire city appears overrun with advertisements."

Rembrandt stopped under the marquee of a movie theater to laugh and point at the titles listed on the sides. "Check this out, guys."

Quinn and the others gathered under the garish awning to read the block lettering. Quinn read it aloud. "Now Playing: Trailers For 'Eraser,' 'Batman Forever,' 'Ace Ventura Six,' 'Bridges of Madison County'..."

"What?" Wade asked. "No actual movies?"

Quinn looked down at her and shrugged. "I guess they just play trailers here. Maybe they don't play movies in this world at all."

"That would fit in with the motif," Arturo said. "My friends, it seems we are in a world where advertising runs rampant. I should like to investigate this further."

"Well, not me," Wade said. "This place is making me sick."

Quinn rubbed his stomach. "Yeah, I know what you mean. All these lights and the music and the signs all over the place are making me nauseous from sensory overload. I dunno how these people stand it."

Wade glared up at a Budweiser billboard that showed a group of naked women beneath the slogan "Drink Budweiser And You'll Be More Attractive."

She held up her hands. "I can't take this anymore. I gotta get off the street. Let's go to the Dominion and stay there until the slide."

Arturo looked up at a bookstore that had a book above its door in sickly-green neon. "In a moment, Miss Welles. I would be very interested to get a look at some encyclopedias, find out how this world came to be."

Wade shook her head. "I dunno why you're always so interested in finding out the history of the worlds we're on."

"Merely a natural curiosity, my dear. It's often quite fascinating to see how small changes can produce some radical effects."

Wade shrugged. "Okay, I'll meet you guys at the hotel."

Quinn felt his stomach gurgle as he said, "I'll come with you, Wade. I...I think I need to lie down."

Arturo headed through the door of the bookstore.

Rembrandt followed him inside, pointing at Wade and Quinn in a friendly gesture. "See you guys later."

Quinn waved back, then followed Wade as she strode off across the sidewalk to the address where the Dominion Hotel usually was. His stomach rumbled again as he caught sight of a swirling sign with a hypnotic pattern on it. Above it read, "You Are Getting Very Sleepy. You Must See 'Friends' On Thursday Nights On NBC."

He groaned and hoped he would make it to the hotel.

* * *

The lobby of the Dominion was just as bad as the rest of the city. Huge signs advertising beer, Dunkin Donuts, cigarettes, and the International House of Pancakes took the place of wallpaper.

Wade helped Quinn through the door, letting him lean on her. She couldn't understand why this world was hitting him so hard. Maybe it had to do with his orderly mind. It just couldn't cope with the onslaught of confusing images.

Gomez Calhoun, the owner and clerk of the Dominion Hotel, was wearing a Dominion Hotel hat, shirt, pants, and watch. He smiled broadly as Quinn and Wade approached.

"Good afternoon," Calhoun said. "Welcome to the Dominion, your home away from home. How can I help you?"

Wade took over for Quinn, who was so nauseous he could barely talk. "Yeah, one room, please. Four beds."

Calhoun nodded and unhooked a key from the wall behind him. "That'll be ten dollars."

Wade fished out the fifty dollars she had taken out of an ATM from her bank account in this world. The money they had brought with them from the last world was useless here. This world's dollar bills were neon pink with pictures of popular TV spokesmen and spokeswomen on them instead of presidents. She was glad her card worked in this world, and made a mental note to herself to mail an apology to her double for taking the money.

Wade handed Calhoun a ten-dollar bill with the Energizer bunny on it. Calhoun handed her the key in exchange, then began fishing through a box under his desk.

"How many people are staying in your room?" Calhoun asked without looking up.

"Uh, four."

Calhoun nodded and came out from behind the desk with four green T-shirts. They were printed with the logo of the Dominion Hotel. "Here you go. One size fits all."

Wade looked at the shirts, then forced a weak smile at Calhoun. "Uh, no thanks. We don't really need any new shirts. Come on, Quinn."

She helped Quinn across the lobby and up the stairs to their floor, one step at a time.

* * *

Behind her, Calhoun's smile collapsed. He waited until Wade was out of sight, then threw his T-shirts into the box again. He picked up the handset of the phone on his desk and dialed a number quickly.

After a moment, he spoke. "Hello, police?"

* * *

Wade pushed open the door to their room. It was just as bad as the lobby. The wallpaper was one long advertisement for Sleepytime Mattresses, Kool Icewater, and other products the hotel apparently offered.

"Oh, man," Quinn groaned. "I can't take this anymore."

She let him lean against the wall, then ran over to the window. She drew the curtains, snapping them loudly, to shroud the room in darkness. The wallpaper couldn't be seen.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Better, I guess," Quinn murmured from the shadows. "But I can't wait to get outta this world. I gotta go to the bathroom..."

There were a few thuds in the darkness, then the bathroom light clicked on. Quinn lurched into the room and shut the door behind him.

Wade sighed and turned on the bedside lamp. The room actually wasn't too bad if you didn't mind the ads all over the place. There was a TV in the main room that she flicked on.

There was a man sitting on a tree stump in a forest, looking at the screen with a grim expression. "My mother used to take Advil. But there was that product tampering thing a few years back, the one where millions died of arsenic poisoning. My mother was one of them."

The man's lower lip began to tremble as he said, "I trusted Advil. But it killed her. So now...I take Tylenol. Nothing works better on my headaches...and at least I know I won't get murdered."

The scene faded to one of a bottle of Tylenol on a plain background next to the slogan which was read aloud. "Take Tylenol for your tough headaches. Or die."

Wade shook her head and changed the channel. She spoke aloud to Quinn in the other room. "You notice how weird the ads are around here? I mean, how do they let them get away with some of this stuff?"

Quinn groaned in response. Wade flicked through a few more channels, whipping through ads for baby powder, mouthwash, TVs, McDonald's hamburgers, and Guess Jeans. After five minutes, she still hadn't run into any actual programs. She finally put down the remote and dug around in drawers until she found a complimentary TV Guide.

Wade skimmed the listings. She couldn't help calling out to Quinn. "Hey, listen to this. 'The World's Best Commercials,' 'World's Funniest Commercials,' 'America's Funniest Commercials,' 'Amazing Discoveries...' Every show on here is about commercials. There are no actual TV shows on at all. And almost all the cable channels are home shopping channels."

Wade stopped when she came to a channel with Rembrandt on it. Her eyes widened as she watched Rembrandt wearing his classic red suit, singing "Cry Like A Man." But the lyrics had been altered so that he was singing "Drink Like A Man" as he held bottles of Coca-Cola. The commercial ended with Rembrandt downing the Coke with the words "Drink Like A Man" superimposed over him.

"Was that Rembrandt?" Quinn called out.

"Yup," Wade said. "I guess he's the spokesman for Coke in this world. Good to see him getting somewhere."

She changed the channel to an animated cartoon, "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe." She was surprised the show was still on. It had been canceled in the early eighties in her world. Still, it was something to watch, and Wade had enjoyed the show when she was a kid. She settled back to watch.

He-Man was facing off against Skeletor on a high cliff. Skeletor thrust out his bony finger at him.

"So He-Man," Skeletor snarled, "you think you can defeat me with your Action Glowing Sword, only $9.95, available at all fine Kaybee toystores. Well, you have not yet faced my new minion, Vortex, with his Power-Spinning Action, only $5.99, available at all fine Toys'R'Us toystores!"

A man came whirling out of the canyon behind him in blue spandex. The words "Available Now" flashed on the screen next to him.

He-Man threw his head back in a mocking laugh. "You fool, Skeletor! You have not reckoned with my new Mighty Punch with Snapping Action, only $6.99, available at all fine ChildPlay toystores!"

He-Man attacked Vortex with his punching arm as the words "Available Now" flashed on the screen.

Wade sighed. "I know the show was nothing but a commercial for the toy series on our own world, but at least they hadn't been so obvious about it."

Quinn stepped out of the bathroom with a sigh. "I... I think I'm okay now. Just needed to rest a little, I guess."

Wade got off the bed. "Well, go ahead and lie down. And I'd avoid the TV if I were you. It's worse than the street, if that's at all possible."

She left Quinn flopping onto one of the beds as she headed into the bathroom. The showers of their last world had left much to be desired.

Wade closed the door behind her and began to run the water in the bath. Then she looked up. The wallpaper- ads continued here, this time pushing Charmin toilet paper. But the Dominion had gotten into the act as well. A pile of towels was stacked on the sink, printed with the Dominion Hotel logo. A sign rested on them that read "Please

take one home with you."

Wade grinned. A hotel where they wanted you to steal the towels.

There was a loud bang in the other room. It sounded like a door being kicked down. Wade was reaching for the doorknob to leave the bathroom when she heard a deep voice yell.

"Police!" it roared. "Nobody move!"

Part Three

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