"Good work? You're going to turn him into another bloody Murdoch!"

[Someone is holding the communicator carelessly in one hand, as though they don't know it's on. The floor passes by slowly under the camera's lens. Whoever they are, they're walking hesitantly toward something. Bathroom tile appears, and then: the base of the toilet.]

Sweet wounded Jesus. I've died and gone to heaven.

[It's a boy speaking; his voice soft and high, his accent somewhere between Irish, British, and Pirate.

In other words: George Crabtree.]

[The video screen is navy blue and slightly blurry. From off-screen a man speaks. He has an accent which, if you are familiar with such things, is easily identifiable as being from Newfoundland. If you are not so in the know, you may think it is Irish. Or British. Or fake. He declares:]

I...believe this device and I have reached an understanding...

[The expanse of navy moves back. You have been looking at a close up of the man's policeman uniform. Now it is visible from neck to about mid-thigh in all its old-fashioned, high-collared, many buttoned glory. Because while the device and George may have come to an understanding, George does not understand how to frame a shot.]

Well. I-...oh.

[As a sort of after thought, he reaches up out of frame. When his hands appear again they are holding his navy blue custodian helmet, which has a silver colored maple leaf on the front. He rests the helmet against his hip.]

I'm Constable George Crabtree, Toronto Constabulary, station #4, and I'm very pleased to be here and meet all of you. ...Although I suppose I haven't done that yet. But I'm sure I'll be pleased when I do!

I've seen an airship before, but I've never been on one...that I can remember. But it's really an experience; much smoother than being on a boat. I don't get seasick myself, but I have an aunt who can't stomach travel like that in the slightest. Just.

[Vomit-y hand motion.]

All over.

Anyway. I'm very impressed by this whole business! This "thingy" here.

[He shakes the communicator.]

But! Especially-

[And then everything is a blur as George, communicator in hand, is moving through his room. When he stops, you are greeted with a lovely shot of: a toilet. The sort with a wall mounted tank and pull chain. Then George turns the camera back on himself, and manages to actually aim it at his excitedly grinning face. He hooks a thumb in the toilet's direction.]

Now that's fantastic! Did everybody get one?