<div dir="ltr"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-cfc40e1b-7fff-f5cd-e0a8-8673038117dc"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:12pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:0pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Mission: Lights, Camera….Action?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:0pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Day: 1</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Stardate: 2446.01.01/2025.06.30</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:12pt;margin-bottom:12pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Toronto – Studio Car - Studio Asst/ Driver Trixie Bell - 1034)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:22pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:0pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“I guess, sorry where are we going exactly?" </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Trixie smiled as she swung out into the traffic, which was slightly heavier than usual given the time of day. “I’m...taking you to the studios...You know? Pinewood?” She turned to him slightly, thought kept an eye on the road.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"And why are we going there exactly? Sorry it must have been a late night what time is it?" </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Trixie pointed to the clock on the touchscreen. At the moment it was a blue screen with ‘Radio off’ and the time. Though she knew that if she hit the ‘map’ button, the screen would shift to the GPS. “Just gone 1030. Today’s mostly an orienteering day, but some of your colleagues and co-starts are off doing other things.  more script changes I imagine, I don’t know much about that until I get in, above my grade anyway. There’s a lot of the main cast not in yet apparently, so it’s a case of catching up with makeup and wardrobe maybe, script readthroughs, and the like.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">She could see her passenger shift in his chair, a look on his face perhaps. Looking up the road she could see traffic grinding to a halt and an ambulance scream past, lights and sirens blaring. “Ah crap. Looks like an incident up ahead. This could slow us down. You seem like you have questions.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Reply Vespers)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Mr Baskin, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you look really confused. You’ve done a whole season of Star Trek: Exeter now, plus some of the pilots set on Mars, but you’re acting like you forgot that?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Reply Vespers)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:12pt;padding:10pt 0pt 12pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Posted by Mark)</span></p></span><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline"></div>