Season 5 - Episode 8 - Opilion

LIU Atlas - Opilion

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas.


                                                                LIU Atlas - Opilion

The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.
 

Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting Opilion, a large, mountainous planet, that sits along the Cibus Hyperspace Route. The majority of Opilion is dominated by rocky, elevated ‘highlands’. These cool, wet highlands hold thousands of acres of grasslands. These grasslands are too cold to support farming, but make for perfect pastures. Let’s head down to the surface to find out more.”

Doog: “Well folks, I’ve been dropped off up here in the planet’s highlands. It’s a bit chilly, but luckily its not raining. I hear some commotion behind me, and I’m betting it’s my guide.”

Culcitra: “You’re Doog, I presume?”
Doog: “Yes, and you are?”
Culcitra: “I’m Culcitra, son of Ovis, of the Colles Clan. We are the shepherds of the west highlands.”
Doog: “Gotcha. So, what’s up with the eye patch?”
Culcitra: “Have you ever had a bug land on your face, and you involuntarily swat it with your hand? Well, let’s just say that swatting at your face when you’re wearing a Shepherd Hardsuit isn‘t the best idea.”
Doog: “Ouch. I bet that hurt. So, what’s with the hardsuit anyway?"
Culcitra: “My clan shepherds millions of animals over vast, vast distances. It would be impossible to walk these distances without the aid of the suits. The also help us get around safely on the rocky, hilly terrain.”
Doog: “What kind of animals are these? Some sort of sheep?”

Culcitra: “They share many of the same characteristics, but they are not genetically related. This is the Laniger, a species native to this planet. Its woolly, waterproof fleece protects it from the harsh conditions here.”
Doog: “And you harvest these fleeces?”
Culcitra: “Yes. Laniger wool is one of the finer natural fibers you‘ll find, and it’s quite cheap too.”

Doog: “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s shear one up and make some sweaters. I’m freezing.”
Culcitra: “I’m afraid I’m only a shepherd. I don’t handle anything like that. It’s my job to protect the Lanigers while they’re in the pastures and round them up when it’s time to be sheared.”
Doog: “Protect them from what? Predators?”
Culcitra: “No, we purposely caused the extinction of all of Opilion’s native predators. We simply keep them sheltered, remove sick Laniger from the flock, keep them away from dangerous ledges…stuff like that.”
Doog: “Sounds like a bore. Hey, what’s that noise?”

Culcitra: “It’s a cargo train. They transport Laniger wool from various parts of the highlands to the factories up north in the lowlands. We’ll get to that in a bit. I figured we’d move the flock higher up towards one of our shearing cottages.”
Doog: “Sounds good.”

Culcitra: “Watch your step. The twisted paths of the highlands can be tricky.”
Doog: “Yeah, almost like nature’s stairs. I hate stairs by the way. So, how much further?”

Culcitra: “Oh, I’d say were about a mile out as the bird flies, but you calculate in the elevation and all the backtracking we have to do to ascended the mountain, I’d say about five miles.”
Doog: “What are the Lanigers thoughts of letting humans ride on their backs…”

Culcitra: “Not much further now. At least we’re all the way up now.”
Doog: “Huff…huff…yeah. At least I’m not feeling cold anymore. I’m sweating my butt off. I’m starting to get a bad case of…”

Doog: “Uh, son of a Gungan. What the heck is this?”
Culcitra: “That’s a bog. They’re all over up here. You really have to watch your step.”

Doog: “Thanks for the heads up Bo Peep. Now I have a figurative and literal case of swamp @$%!”
Culcitra: “Hey, I figured the Lanigers avoid them on their own without any warnings. I guess I overestimated you.”

Culcitra: “Ah, finally here. This is one of our shearing cottages.”

Doog: “This is where you sheer all the Lanigers?”

Culcitra: “Not all of them, there’s way too many for one man to shear them all. There are cottages like this spread throughout the highlands. As you pass one, you shear as many as you can then continue on.”

Culcitra: “The Laniger wool is packaged up and sent down to the nearest train station. That’s where we are headed next.”

Culcitra: “Well, I’m afraid this is where our paths split apart. I can’t venture to far from the flock and a factory is no place for a shepherd.”
Doog: “You’re just leaving me here?”
Culcitra: “Don’t worry. Several trains pass through here each day. One will stop to pick up this load of wool. Till we meet again.”
Doog: “See ya, Bo Peep. Well, I hope the first train that comes through stops because I don’t want to sit out here all day… ”




Two Hours Later…

Doog: “Finally! Hey, pssst, I need a ride!”

Doog: “Hey! HEY! HEEEEY!”

Doog: “I know you saw me! Stop! I’m not waiting all day!”

Doog: “Screw it. We’ll do this the hard way!”




Six Hours Later…

Doog: “Please let m-m-me in. So, cold. Wait. It’s warmed up. I made it! Haha! I made it!”

Doog: “Excuse me! Up here. I’m looking for a Mr. Vestitor, the factory director.”
Vestitor: “I’m Mr. Vestitor. Are you Doog? I wasn’t expecting you for another four hours. What are you doing up there?”
Doog: “Well, let’s just say I got a little impatient and found my own ride. Speaking of which, do I have any bugs stuck in my teeth? What about my mustache?”
Vestitor: “If you don’t get down from there, you’re going to be stuck in the front grill of a train!”

Vestitor: “That was a risky stunt. You didn’t even know where that train was heading. What if you ended up freezing to death?”
Doog: “I don’t like ‘what ifs’ Vestitor. I mean…what if I finished school? What if I never took this stupid job? What if I married that chick back in high school? So, what if we get started?”
Vestitor: “Uh, sure. Let’s see. Well, this is the Exchange. Laniger Wool is offloaded from the trains unto little transport carts like the one behind me. It’s then taken into the factory.”

Vestitor: “If you’ll follow me, we’ll head into the factory. The doors just under this bridge.”

Vestitor: “The first step in processing Laniger Wool is called ‘combing’. The rough, tangled clumps of wool are dropped into machines like this. Fast spinning brushes pull the fibers apart.”

Vestitor: “This also removes any impurities. After that, the fibers are twisted together into large threads, follow me.”

Vestitor: “The large threads are spooled and taken to machines that make the threads thinner and thinner, until we are left with a fine, Laniger Wool thread. The threads are then dyed into various colors.”

Vestitor: “The dyed threads are then brought to our automatic weaving machines.”
Doog: “Weaving machines?”

Vestitor: “Yes. These fast moving machines stitch and weave the threads into sheets of fabric.”

Vestitor: “Ah, it looks like this one is finished.”

Vestitor: “And there you have it, Opilion Fabric. Waterproof, warm, and cheap.”
Doog: “Ooh, that’s pretty soft. I could use some of this for a blanket. The waterproof features could come in handy when I sleep on the bunk under Oldie.”
Vestitor: “Sorry. We ship all our fabric off-world to various garment factories.”

Doog: “Well folks, Opilion is an interesting place. The fabrics they make here keep the universe clothed. And, if you’ve seen some of these people naked, you can you really, really appreciate their effort. See ya!”


Note: 

Doog:
“The mechanical Bo-Peep lost his peep,
Swatting at a bugger;
If I were him, I’d tell the chicks,
I lost it to a mugger.”


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