Travers: Rock Bottom: Episode 2: New Threads, Old Habits

The following takes place following: Riches to Rags

The Master takes Travers to Widdlington's Little Italy. They enter Vincenzo’s — Master Devlin's regular tailor.

Master Devlin: Ciao, Vincenzo.

Vincenzo: Ciao, Maestro Devlin. Come stai?

Master Devlin: Sto bene, Vincenzo. Sono qui con il signor Travers. Sta cercando un vestito nuovo.

Vincenzo: Maestro Devlin, il tuo amico non ha un bell’aspetto...

Master Devlin: Sta bene. Questa è solo la sua carnagione.

Vincenzo: Capisco. Benvenuto. Mi prenderò cura di lui.

Travers doesn’t understand a word of Italian. Vincenzo pulls out his measuring tape and starts from the inside of Travers' leg, working his way up.

Travers: Hey, what’s the big idea?? This fag trying to get fresh with Travers or what? Travers don't bend that way, pal! Tell him, Master Devlin!

Master Devlin: Vincenzo, qual è la grande idea?

Vincenzo: È così che misuriamo le gambe dei pantaloni.

Master Devlin: He says that’s how they do trousers.

Travers: I don’t think so, pal.

Master Devlin: Fine. I’ll tell him to leave the inner leg.

The Master turns to Vincenzo.

Master Devlin: Lascia stare la parte interna della gamba. Fai solo il resto.

Vincenzo nods.

Travers: That’s right... Babadaboopi no homo della faggo goblina, Vinnie. Keep your greasy paws to yourself.

Master Devlin: I think you’re overreacting, Travers.

Travers: No, Master Devlin. It is you who is speaking out of turn.

Master Devlin: Excuse me?

The Master towers over Travers.

Travers: Look, I’m a tolerant goblin. I don’t pry into your personal lifestyle, on the understanding that you don’t try and bring me into your perverted LGBT world. But you’ve clearly brought me to one of your back-door bandit vendors. This shirt-lifting greaseball touched Travers Junior! I take that kind of thing personally.

Master Devlin: Based on your past behaviour, I highly doubt that… I just don’t think you’ve been tailored before.

Vincenzo: Qual è il problema?

Master Devlin: Ti dice che sei omosessuale...

Travers: ...I could really use a drink.

Vincenzo: Che cosa? Come osi, dannato stronzo verde! Vattene dal mio negozio, cazzo!

Master Devlin: He wants you to leave, Travers. Let’s go.

Travers: Bibedee bobedee boo to you too, Vincent...

Vincenzo throws a bottle of wine at Travers.

Travers: Hey! My overalls! And I’m a recovering alcoholic, you asshole!

Master Devlin: Okay. Time to go.

The Master hurries Travers outside.

Vincenzo (shouting after them): Non tornare, piccolo bastardo verde!

Travers: Great job… What the hell did you say to him?

Master Devlin: He wasn’t pleased that you called him a homosexual.

Travers: Yeah? Well I wasn’t pleased he groped my gherkin… He was probably a nonce — thought I was a kid...

Master Devlin: Hrmm. Well, let’s go to a charity shop and get you a cheap suit.

Travers: I think that’s a good idea. I want to project the image of the scrappy underdog lawyer anyway. A cheap charity suit is the way to go.

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The Master and Travers wander into the Walford Heights market district and step into a small charity shop next door to Dr. Fraser’s practice. They head over to the clothing racks. Travers winces at the musty odour of the pre-owned suits — all of which appear much too large. His mood shifts quickly when a buxom blonde store assistant approaches.

Retail Assistant: Good day... gentlemen. My designation is Seven of Nine — retail assistant. How may I be of service today?

Travers begins to salivate and make awooga noises. Seven of Nine turns to the Master and raises an eyebrow.

Seven of Nine: This unit appears to be damaged. Perhaps you require a repair station?

The Master facepalms and apologises before smacking Travers on the back of the head, causing his fake moustache to fall off. Travers then panicks and scrambles to pick it up and reattach.

Travers: Good afternoon, beautiful. My name is—

Seven of Nine: Harris Travers. Derivative sub-unit of Widdle Frunkut. Species 777. Former Emperor of Waldonia.

Travers: Well, I see my reputation again precedes me. Naturally. Yet I don’t recognize you. Are you new in town?

Seven of Nine: Indeed. I was brought here from the Delta Quadrant... somehow... and I appear to be stuck here. Fortunately, the Emergency Medical Hologram next door was able to help me secure gainful employment. As such, I am currently the retail assistant you see before you. Now, state your business here. I have duties to attend to.

Travers: Um... well, I was looking for a suit. But all the ones here are too big. I was wondering if you could check to see if you have any smaller ones in the back.

Seven of Nine: I will comply.

She turns and heads into the back room. Moments later, she returns with a small suit.

Seven of Nine: This one belonged to a small child, now deceased. There is minimal damage to the blazer, which can be easily repaired. You should purchase this.

Travers: Hmmm. I’m not sure about the colour.

Seven of Nine: Colour is irrelevant. The dimensions are an approximate match to your diminutive frame.

Travers: Well, you certainly have quite a knack for sales. How can I say no?

Seven of Nine: Indeed. Resistance is futile.

Travers: Well, how about you help me try it on?

Seven of Nine: I cannot comply. That would fall outside the parameters of my job description as Charity Shop Retail Assistant. In addition, there are no changing facilities. I assure you, it will fit adequately. If you change your mind, you may return it for a refund.

Travers: Alright. Pay the lady, if you please, Master Devlin.

Seven of Nine: That will be seven pounds sterling.

Travers: So, Seven... how about dinner?

Seven of Nine: I do not require sustenance at this time.

Travers: I mean later on. With me. Say... seven o’clock?

Seven of Nine: I see. You intend to enter into a courtship ritual with me?

Travers: That’s right. Candlelit dinner with me, Travers — National Treasure — on the park bench with a couple of chemical burgers, followed by a nice oil change in my dumpster afterward. What do you say?

Seven of Nine: I would say you are in need of a mechanic. I believe there is one in Walver Lake. I'm sure he can... change your oil. As far as dinner is concerned, I will have to decline. I am engaged to be married, and I doubt my fiancé would be pleased.

Travers: Oh... engaged, huh? That was fast. To whom? No! Wait... don’t tell me—Widdle Frunkut, right?

Seven of Nine: Indeed. We are... in love. I have been instructed to say that.

Master Devlin (shaking his head): Of course...

Travers: Fine. Whatever. Come along, Master Devlin!

Seven of Nine: Thank you for your patronage. Please return soon.

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They step out onto the street and begin walking.

Master Devlin: For God's sake, Travers...

Travers: What?

Master Devlin: I can't take you anywhere, can I?

Travers: You know, I was like you once, Master Devlin. When I myself was a junior-grade master... So worried about duty and obligation that I couldn't see past my own uniform! Even as Emperor! I was so concerned with proper procedure. Worrying about trivial things like laws and the economy. And what did it get me? An empty dumpster... Not this time! This time things will be different. Travers has learned to relax and enjoy life. And you should too...

Master Devlin: What on earth are you on about, Travers? I don’t think you were ever like me. All I see is a lousy, sleazy lawyer who cannot seem to keep a job, his marriage, or his livelihood together.

Travers: There's no need to cut me to the quick like that. I told you, I've just had a run of bad luck, that's all. It's the price of being a noble and honorable goblin.

Master Devlin: You are neither noble nor honourable. In order to be either of those things, you need to have high moral principles and fine qualities. You were just hitting on a Borg lady. Thankfully, she turned you down, but you have absolutely no boundaries. You are a crooked, sleazy little creature, and until you actually better yourself, you cannot simply stand there and tell me you’re noble and honourable...

Travers: That is completely out of—

Master Devlin: —A couple of weeks ago, you were an evil tyrant and turned Widdlington into a dystopian nightmare. Then the money ran out and you could no longer run your empire. If you truly wish to reform, the first step is admitting your failures. And we go from there...

Travers: O ye of little faith... Mark my words, Master Devlin — one day I'll be running across town with that Bonnie Tyler song playing as I race to save your life. Then you will see that I'm not only noble and honorable, but also heroic!

The Master vomits on the ground.

Travers: Are you alright?

Master Devlin: Apologies… I am allergic to bullshit. And you have plenty of that.

Travers: 😠

Master Devlin: Anyway. I'm hungry. Shall we go get you some food?

Travers: Good idea! No ethnic food, though... Good old-fashioned American.

Master Devlin: Fine. I know a place. You should probably change into your suit, though.

Without hesitation, the goblin strips out of his overalls and puts on the charity shop suit.

Master Devlin: ...I didn't mean here in the street. 😒 Then again, at this point, there is nothing about Travers that shocks the Master anymore.

Travers: Hey, the Borg babe was right. This fits nicely!

Master Devlin: Very good. Let us proceed.

Travers: Rock Bottom continues in Enter the Edverse Part One