The Greatest Adventurer Of All Time (The Exodus, pt. II).

They were so close.

There we were, at the bottom of the pit.

And lo, we were handed a shovel.

Last week’s episode, “The Exodus, Part One,” was just another episode of Sliders. It is, perhaps obviously, this week’s episode that changes everything. What I’m trying to convey is the fact that it’s hard to separate myself from this entry. It’s hard for all of us, as Sliders fans, to separate ourselves from these two episodes. They remain with us. But god damn it, I’m going to try to withhold feelings— those feelings that are so deeply rooted. If you’re a true fan of Sliders, this is the episode that you never forget seeing, and it’s never a pleasant memory. But some of you haven’t ever seen these two episodes before. Good. I’m glad to be here for you.

Let’s get to it.

But it’s hard, isn’t it? Sliders has never done a two-part episode before. It’s never been allowed this much time to spin out a story. Many shows, especially in the 90s when serialization wasn’t yet the norm for television, had difficulty spreading a story well over two episodes. But the remarkable thing here is that “The Exodus, pt. II” is somehow less boring than most of the stand-alone episodes in Season Three. It isn’t really until the last ten minutes that it loses it’s momentum. It’s a pleasant surprise.

All of which is not to say in the least that this episode is perfect. It’s still a pretty huge mess.


All of this is centered on Colonel Rickman. This character is a flaming pinball of chaos, destroying everything he comes in contact. And I don’t mean just within the confines of the story. This meteor burns outside the box, singeing the edges of all we know and love. His presences demands our attention, leaving us to stare at his horrifying unblinking face. He asks us to ignore such idiotic turns of events as his big reveal as to why he can’t keep his face on straight.


So we have last week’s reveal given cause. Rickman, in the Gulf War, was infected by some radical disease that melts your brain tissue, causing you to require injections of suitable brain tissue to stay alive.

About which: sure, fine, whatever.

About which I cry: the fact that he would keep the evidence that operates as an infodump he would never give himself in a location that is entirely easy to locate and rummage through is infuriating.


About which I barf: the fact that we’re asked to believe that this virus is plausible in any way, shape, or form. Not really the virus itself, I suppose. But the ‘cure’ is ridiculous. It would almost be more satisfying if he just killed people because he felt like it. Or, I don’t know, if he was in love with Maggie. Like, seriously.

I would buy this character if the reason he was killing people is because they found out he had a huge crush on Maggie.

…heal me?

But that’s not the case. Instead we have this atomic bomb-drop of a character who demands all attention. He writes a list of ‘things that crazy military commanders do’ and forces us to watch him check off the list, one by one.

He separates Mother & Son!

Yep, the epitome of thrilling drama, right here.

He murders innocent civilians!


He makes Maggie cry!

Okay, so he’s not all bad.

He’s religious!


This points the way to one of the more tolerably batshit crazy elements of the episode. The director, Jefery Levy, is apparently a huge fan of the first 10 minutes of The Hunger (R.I.P. Tony Scott), and decided to go full on Gothic. I mean, LOOK AT THIS:

I mean, I really want to stress how ridiculous(ly awesome) the XTREME ZOOM into Rickman shooting up in a church is. SO XTREME.

Angry mobs of civilians shut off the base’s power, but it really seems like an excuse just to light the entire place with blue lights and occasional strobing.

Sliders’ “blue period.”

Look, I have to admit something to you. This is maybe the hardest post I’ve had to do. There’s a lot of reasons for this. The first is similar to why I chose to do a differing-from-the-norm post for “Paradise Lost”— there’s already been so much said about this episode. What more can I add? Yes, we know it’s bad. Yes, the pulsars and Rickman and the lack of blood on everyone and Malcolm in general and just about everything is preposterous. This episode is really hard to discuss because it changes everything about the show, but it just isn’t very good.

But I did notice something this time through I don’t think I picked up on this time through. I’ll get there. First, the first of two moments we’ve been waiting for.


So in the first act, we follow up with Quinn’s visit to Home with the most contentious of scenes in Sliders history. The rest of the team runs up to Quinn, more excited than we’ve seen them since the beginning of “Eggheads.” They can go home. They ask the obvious: when are we leaving?

So here, the choice is presented before them, and Quinn decides it’s ‘not the time for it.’ Not the time for the journey to end. He denies the fairyland himself. But how dare he? Rembrandt hits it on the head when he declares Quinn to be ‘playing God,’ and punches him right in the face. Many people deride this scene and declare Rembrandt’s actions out of character.

To be frank, I find that to be bullshit. I understand it. We’re protective of these people, and we don’t want/like to see them suffer. So we put up shields, deflect their suffering  with our knowledge outside their world. but the fact of the matter is that Rembrandt has every reason in the world to punch Quinn right in the face. Wade has every reason to call him a bastard. He is a bastard. Arturo breaks up the fight, more or less, but Quinn just checked out. In a fit of petulance, he declares that he doesn’t care about the others. So here we are: Quinn has a way out of his guilt. It just depends on Arturo being there to dispense his sagely advice.

But the multiverse has a new goal: to punish Quinn for his shirking.

We’ve been building towards this. A break in the group on two fronts, heralded by something terrible happening—the most terrible of happenings. But we’ve still a third of the season left. The story isn’t over. It is truly a feat of sadism to continue the journey.

They were so close. If Quinn wants to hang himself for guilt, he should do so now. What the hell was the “deal” he made? He honestly believes he has a duty to help these people? Rickman forced him to help them by gunpoint, basically. He knows this system is corrupt. So what is it he wants? Maggie? Is it just that someone entirely out of his league is showing him attention?

Quinn has become a warring mixture between someone trying to be the ‘big man’ and a kid who never really got to grow up normal. He was too busy being smart, too busy grieving his father, too busy smacking a kid in the knee with a baseball bat. All this behavior is a window to the team’s understanding of sliding. Arturo saw it as the infinite possibilities of Science. Rembrandt sees it as the permutations of God’s hand.

Quinn, more and more since “As Time Goes By,” sees sliding through a selfish looking glass. But time and time again the multiverse has proved itself immutable to his whims. Not only that, it has actively punished him again and again for trying to force himself upon it. But again—they came so close. Despite the fact that we know this “Earth Prime” to be false, we can at least allow them their fairyland. After all, home coordinates are meaningless to them— home is where they choose it to be.


But you could argue that the four of them is all the Home they have. And, in the most frustratingly ridiculous scene ever to be committed to tape, Home is stripped away from them. Time slows down to make sure we can relish every hated moment.

Tommy, can you hear me?

Can you feel me near you?

Tommy, can you see me?

Can I help to cheer you?

Whoa-oh-oh, Tommy…





Tommy, can you hear me?

Can you feel me near you?

Tommy, can you see me?

Can I help to cheer you?





We aren’t given even five more words. We get a charge, a mission, a passing of the torch: “Get them home.” Then we get a final term of endearment, an epitaph: “sliders.”

Then we are left with nothing.

We don’t even get to see him die.

I’m leaving out nothing of the actual death. But since this is a death mediated by abject hate and childish cronies playing God with contracts, we aren’t content to have our beloved Professor just lay down in a bloodless, wordless heap. First we have Rickman half-brain-suck him (because that’s apparently something you can do now why not), and have him go half brain dead, murmuring “help me” like he’s the Elephant Man.

Never go Full-Tard.

Obviously it is humiliating for John Rhys-Davies to have to stumble around and stammer out his dialogue while the rest of the cast pretends that it’s SUPER HARD to understand that he’s saying “needle.” He’s an actor blessed with the most Brian Blessed of Voices, it’s a real joy to hear him speak. Here he is denied that speech. It’s ridiculous.

Despite how preposterous this scene is, this shot is BEAUTIFUL.

But it’s also the most humiliating end for The Professor, as well. And that’s the thing. The episode makes such a joke out of this Death that I forget that what my job on this blog for this episode is to eulogize Maximilian P. Arturo, Professor of Cosmology and Ontology.

But I don’t want to do that! After watching “The Exodus, pt. II,” there’s nothing heartwarming to remember Arturo by. Season Three, post-“The Guardian,” has been an exercise in diminishing the character. We’ve been giving him less to say, less to do. Sure, we gave him a disease, but we’ve only heard about it again twice (sort of). He’s had good bits here and there, most notably in “Season’s Greedings” and “Murder Most Foul.” But he’s receded into the background, assuming his role as gentle wizard-caretaker with a silent dignity.

And sure, we can remember “Post Traumatic Slide Syndrome” and say “hey, there’s a chance we’ll see him again.” But at this point, we know better. This is it.

Sliding is often chaos. It is important for the team, and for us as viewers, to have an anchor through the chaos. Arturo was always the voice of reason here. So to remove that dynamic is devastating to the workings of the show—in-universe and out.

Look, we’ll miss him. The show will never be the same again.

The Shroud of Arturo.

But you can see, in a moment that probably is informed by real life way more than usual, that it’s never going to be the same for these characters either. I mean, obviously that’s true. I’ve said a billion times that this show is little more than a tale of friendship. Now that friendship is broken, bruised, tattered, and destroyed. But there’s a moment where you can tell that for one of these people, the journey is truly over.

Without condition.

Oh sure, she musters up a little bit more of her usual energy, but it fades away by the end. It’s brief and due to adrenaline. But it’s over. Maggie joins the team, and she knows—without a doubt, without condition—that she’ll always be 2nd fiddle. Not only because Maggie’s a military commander, who ostensibly will always try to ‘lead the mission’ to ‘kill Rickman.’ But because she’s seen the way Quinn acts around women. And because she knows that Rembrandt won’t take sides. Arturo is dead. That sagely wisdom is gone from the group. Wade feels this keenly— she’s changed over the journey, but she hasn’t quite grown up yet— she’s been holding that off to keep the adventure fresh, to remain a happy wanderer, to keep from losing herself completely.

More and more over this season, she’s been cracking more, becoming more grim than usual. She’s started to see the ugliness of the multiverse, to treat the journey with pessimism. But here, now, her fears are made flesh, and that flesh is a misting, bloodless corpse, deaf to her sobs.

Now all I see is death.

Look at her face. She’s beyond caring. She just wanly eulogized her friend, now she has to tolerate this—well, this blistering idiot— every day of her life. Sure, she can hold on to the hope that they’ll find Rickman and they’ll get his Timer and they’ll go home and Maggie will fuck off. But look at her face. They were so close. Now, when they get “home,” whatever that is, it won’t even be worth it. If they had a mission, they’ve lost it.  They’ve failed.

But there’s still rags to hold together. They’re a trio with baggage now, but that trio at least has something to do. They’re no longer wanderers, in a sense. As they heap themselves at Arturo’s corpse, Quinn bemoans that Arturo shouldn’t have ‘jumped’ in front of the bullet. Wade, hope in her eyes trying not to give way to horror, says that Arturo did it so Quinn could lead them home.

Which is exactly the last thing that Quinn ever wanted to hear.

Dude just because Arturo’s gone doesn’t mean you have to get chunky in his place.

What are we left with? Wade’s checked out. Rembrandt inhabits the same null-space he always has. Quinn is now so wracked with guilt that it looks fit to consume him— but he can’t let it, because now he’s more than just the de facto leader. He has two (fine, three) lives directly on his shoulders. He can’t let them down. The pressure is too much.

Yikes, Quinn. Yikes.

There, I did it. I can say without condition that this was the most frustrating post I’ve ever had to write. It’s probably the most important episode of the series thus far, but it’s not really good enough to warrant extra attention, and I don’t want to spend thousands of words pointing out each and every lame thing that happens, because there are so many.

But I will say this: “The Exodus, pt. II” is pretty remarkable for TV in 1997. Especially on Science Fiction shows on Primetime. Not because it’s good television, but because it serializes itself in a way that wasn’t really allowed that often then. Could you imagine The X-Files, at the height of its popularity, killing off Mulder? That’s basically what this is. Even larger bit roles there like Walter Skinner don’t die ever, and it’s rare to think that they actually could.

And to think that all of this is because John Rhys-Davies was fired. For being too vocal about wanting the show to be better. It makes you wonder where we can go from here.

Professor Maximilian Arturo. Once a wanderer, an adventurer, a Man of Science. A man devoted to the Cosmos.

did you know we’re all made of stardust?

His death lacked dignity, but his passage to the next life was one of wonder.

you, me, your Father, all of us

Separated at the atomic level, to rejoin the galaxy, to rejoin his ancestors in the sky.

our atoms were formed in the stars

If you dedicate your life to the workings of the universe, there must always be a bit of frustration, a feeling that you can’t ever know everything you’d like.

but not the stars you can see now, the older ones

So to join with that which you hold so dear— there could be no greater reward.

The ones that went Nova.

His friends will mourn him, as he will mourn them, eventually. But his journey has only truly begun.

We will make new stars.

He is truly the Greatest Adventurer of All Time.

Next week: I think I’m going to take a break, these two episodes were entirely exhausting. But the week after that: NOM NOM NOM (Sole Survivors).


10 thoughts on “The Greatest Adventurer Of All Time (The Exodus, pt. II).

  1. One fan criticism I never agreed with was the disdain for their confrontation. I’m VERY glad you had good things to say about it. Had the show been better overall, I think people might have liked and really appreciated this dark fracture of the Sliders’ friendship and dynamic. Not in a “true art is angsty” kind of way, but simply because seeing relationships break down and seeing people go to their worst place can be really, really interesting. Perhaps it would have worked better if what came after this dealt more with repairing the friendship and finding a way to keep going, instead of “OMG CRAZY SCI-FI STUFF WOOOOO!” But even still, I always felt like the scene where they’re at each other’s throats, tough as it is to watch, is the most engaging part of the episode. And it really is a horrifically tragic—but kind of brilliant—lead-in to the permanent fracturing of the sliders. But like every other episode of Sliders ever, it’s everything else that mucks it up.

    I quite like your analysis of Quinn at this point, too. Personally, I felt like the punishment experiences just evolved his guilt into a self-destructive personality. They find exactly what they were looking for for three years, and he just can’t grasp the fact that he DID IT, because why would the multiverse actually give him a reward when he shouldn’t deserve it? He was the first one to be skeptical that the “Post-Traumatic Slide Syndrome” world was false and work to get them off, and I think part of that was because he’d never believe he’d be allowed to get them home. Now he’s even more consumed by his guilt, to the point that he’s content with macking on married women and being a dick all the time, because why not? It’s not like he’s ever getting anything good out of the universe, since he believes he doesn’t deserve it.

    So now, he’s looking for any reason to postpone this “going home” thing because he just can’t bring himself to be happy about it and believe it’s real. If he goes home, it’ll just be the universe screwing with him and giving him another PTSS world. And then it all blows up in his face because, like you pointed out, they failed even worse than they expected they could. And it’s made even WORSE if you infer, like we are at this point, that the “home” he found was yet another false one, so the extra guilt he’s piled on was almost for nothing. It’s absolutely horrifying, but goddamn is it interesting and kind of morbidly poetic. It’s uprooted with the knowledge of behind-the-scenes stuff and where the show goes from here, but isolating just that element of it, it’s pretty great, at least to me.

    (I didn’t really even think of it this way at all until reading your thoughts, so you know, thanks for delving into that part instead of just trashing it with the rest of the awfulness!)

  2. Wow it’s amazing what the VooDoo Timer put the Professor through, but 3 slides later kills him 3 different ways to make up for escaping a flesh eating virus, being giant Worm food, or death by Giant bug…amazing the wrath of this timer, wonder who’s world it will try to destroy next before they will fall under it’s mortal wrath, it will keep kicking you until your depression from facing the worlds that it brings you is so much that you will jump in front of a bullet to end the “SAW Movie” like torture…

    On a serious note wow what powerful writing from an episode that well, I don’t know what to say, I hated the episode because after it several fans and friends gave up on the show, it was never the same, they also never took advantage of the fact that he was still under contract and they could of had him return as a double to help them out, wow what a total misread by Fox as the problem with the show, you could see the conversation…lets get rid of the Fat old man and replace him with a hot well endowed female, that is bound to increase the ratings.

    But Fox didn’t consider the Doc Brown senerio that people liked the fact that the Professor was an intelligent mentor to the group and this was basically the same as killing off the Father figure of the group, you have to feel sorry for Kari Wuhrer her 1st Big Network show and she replace the most developed, well liked character on the show, and the best actor that wanted our show to have enough quality that Universal would have their own Star Trek, and Jerry could become the next Tom Cruse.

    I have to agree that Quinn deserved to be clocked by Rembrandt, why could Quinn not set the Timmer for 5 Minutes dropped Wade and Rembrandt off on Earth Prime then finish this critical mission that he felt compelled to do…Rembrandt had nothing to do except explore the base, hope that the civilians don’t charge the base and get accidently killed in the cross-fire, hit another invisible shield to long and die that way, get the mysterious comma virus going around the base to people with type O blood(since I assume he has type O Blood granted that is from him not having a violent reaction to the vial of blood he injects into himself in “The Seer”), or those Pulsars may come earlier than expected…everyone that watched the episode with me said good to go, I would of beat him down took the timer hit the button went home dragged his knocked out Ass through the vortex, if he wanted to be a hero he could go back on his own.

    2nd thing to make me think we had the Wrong Professor is why was he of the position that he didn’t care if they went home or stay, he was just their to say we will all get along again later…He had always been the voice of reason yet he suddenly became Switzerland and didn’t care either way…so he wanted to keep the adventure going because going to EarthPrime meant nothing to him in fact by this point the Real Professor may of made it back without the others to slow him down, then he would expose the fake Professor.

  3. I admire your analytical skills in piecing together the tattered, baffling, illogical, inconsistent and random actions that Jerry O’Connell is made to perform in this episode and the last. I enjoy your approach of staying in-universe as much as possible. When reading your blog, I’m almost convinced — but then I remember what it was like to actually watch these two episodes.

    Even with the best will in the world, I have never been able to see any Quinn Mallory that I recognize in “The Exodus.” As someone who viewed the original Quinn as an iconic figure of science fiction — well, my Quinn would not be attracted to Maggie. He would be slightly intimidated and perhaps even defer to her authority in that he’s a college dropout while she’s (in theory) a hardened, experienced woman of action with extensive experience in espionage and combat and military operations.

    It would have been far more interesting to me if Maggie were played as Quinn’s senior, who is somewhat jaded and cold. Someone used to assuming authority and high-risk situations who can disappear into an assumed role instantly and reacts to giant rabbits with fangs with total cool under fire. And maybe Maggie would feel the need to command Quinn, but at the same time, he’d unsettle her. Not because she is sexually attracted to him. But because she sees him as a civilian and a liability but then he turns out to be the smartest person in the room, smarter than she is, and she feels dwarfed by his brilliance. But that would require keeping Quinn Mallory in character.

    From a real-world perspective, as opposed to an in-universe perspective — I think John Rhys-Davies was an essential part of the cast chemistry. Immediately after Rhys-Davies’ absence, Cleavant’s performances show him struggling to deliver and Sabrina Lloyd and Jerry O’Connell’s efforts show a startlingly downturn. Sabrina Lloyd’s performances in the episodes to come feature increasingly wonky facial expressions and at times a contemptuous disdain for the material. Jerry’s performances for the rest of Season 3 are alarmingly over-the-top, from ridiculously psychotic expressions in fight scenes (see “Stoker”) to his hammy reactions. He seems to lose his ability to deliver dialogue naturally (“The Breeder” and “Dinoslide” feature some of his worst work in the confrontations with Wade and Rickman).

    I’m only speculating, of course, but interviews often showed John commenting on the stories. A behind the scenes video for “Invasion” has John talking about the Kromagg’s organic technology. In the rushed schedule of TV production, it’s rare for actors to do more than memorize their own dialogue. I think John is a brilliant actor because he tends to read the *entire* script and his acting is therefore very specific and the result of deliberate choices rather than simply inserting himself into his roles the way lesser talents (like Jerry) do.

    And I wonder if John’s work-ethic, or at least his taking the time to read the scripts, saw the entire cast benefit from his efforts. Interviews had John talking about how he and his castmates would often trade lines of dialogue and discuss how they were relating to each other onscreen. Which leads me to suspect that the performances we see *after* “The Exodus” are performances from actors who are no longer going the extra-mile to understand the dialogue they’re performing and no longer have a co-worker who’d help them get it, and given how dire the material is, they’re content to simply run a highlighter their words and start talking to their agents about finding new jobs.

    The lack of John’s guidance would certainly explain what happened to Jerry in Season 4…

  4. While I can’t quite appreciate your analysis of Quinn, I have to say, your approach to Arturo’s death is a rather fabulous way to view his exit from the series. You’ve noticed layers of relevance that tie into “The Guardian” and you’ve observed something that is totally accidental, completely unintended by the production team, and nevertheless provides a fitting and poignant way to send Arturo off. It’s a shame the episode doesn’t actually highlight the story elements you do. I would rather remember Arturo’s demise in the way you describe it rather than the way I saw it.

  5. This is the beginning of the end for me. In much the same way fans of Dr. Who have “their Doctor” (Mine was Tom Baker), Quinn, Wade, Remmy and Arturo are my sliders and it will never be the same.

    I would like to commend you on your analysis of the unintentional evolution of Quinn. It’s nice to see someone make sense of what was the result of petty bickering by the cement heads at Fox. Your analysis makes episodes like this almost bearable.

    I would also like to say that the speculation around which Arturo slid at the end of “Post Traumatic Slide Syndrome” leads me to conclude that *our* professor – Arturo Prime – is still alive and well on the Azure Gate Bridge world, so this very poor treatment of Arturo is the punishment the alternate Arturo deserved for his sins.

    On the other hand, maybe that’s just some sort of multi-verse grief coping mechanism. I dunno…

  6. Great review! I really wonder how much of Quinn and Wade’s character changes this season were intentional, either by writers, or the actors themselves. What you said about Wade was very insightful, and in hindsight, looking back at the character throughout the series, makes perfect sense. Again, whether or not this was a conscious decision is anyone’s guess; perhaps it even ties into Wade’s lack of a defined role at the beginning of the series.

    The fact that no matter what they do from this point on, even getting home, things will never be same. I would consider that the most enlightening part of the entire episode. For some fans, I can imagine that could hit too close to home with their own lives, and ruin the series as escapist entertainment. Like you said, it was very gutsy move in the 90’s (even if the motivation behind it was idiotic). I can certainly look at this episode in a different light since it first aired, due to the life experiences I’ve had in the 15 years that have passed. It feels more real, I suppose.

    I’m surprised by how little Maggie’s military influences impacted the group afterwards (even Rembrandt’s “In the navy” references popped up more often in season 3) . Following up on ireactions comments, I can almost imagine an initial group dynamic like that on Stargate Universe, with the military and civilians learning to work together, with mixed results. Envisioning Maggie as more like Ronald Greer (a brave, stoic, calm under pressure soldier who only trusts other soldiers and follows the chain of command to the letter) would certainly have added more group dynamics to the show, especially without a defined leader. Instead, she just seemed to forget all about that training as the show progresses as the necessity for those character traits lessens.

    It sounds like John not only played a teacher on the show, but was also teaching the other cast members off screen, as their performances were certainly stronger during his time on the show. There was always a certain element of professionalism during the first two seasons. I suspect the move from the wide and varied British Columbia to the overused studio sets in LA also impacted the professional look of the show as well, but that’s a whole other conversation.

    I actually had an opportunity to meet John just 5 days ago at Fan Expo in Toronto, Ontario. We discussed Sliders briefly and the impression I got is that he still has a lot of respect for what the show was and could have been. Quite the gentleman and it was a pleasure to listen to him speak.

    • The writers had no idea how to write Maggie because they thought that it didn’t matter…she was “the hot female lead.” When she had to be the tough-bad ass, you just couldn’t buy it. When she’s supposed to be compassionate, I really don’t buy it much either. They wanted her to be all things female and the whole “I’m a shopaholic – look at all my shoes” thing really grated on me.

      If she was really a tough-ass Marine, the last thing on her mind would be retail therapy! I know more about saving my pennies and not spending my money on stupid stuff than this chick did. If you have limited money and resources, you don’t blow it on tons of shoes and clothes that you aren’t going to take with you through the damn wormhole! You buy what you need. You focus on the basics: food, shelter, clothes. That’s it! Maybe a splurge on a here and there for someone’s birthday or Christmas, but…..that kind of stuff just rubbed me the wrong way. Maggie was too much of a “girlie” girl and it drove me nuts. “Girlie” girls just don’t join the Marines and if they do, you’d think that they’d learn something about practical survival. The girl couldn’t even shoot straight in the 3rd season.

      In the end, the show was “bad/clunky Sci Fi”, but definitely not “girl romance drama”. I can’t think of any women who would willingly watch season 3 – 5 because of either Quinn or Maggie. Yuck! Quinn’s just an ass and Maggie….I still don’t know who or what she’s supposed to be. Nobody cares about the hot girl who Quinn’s going to romance for one episode. I’m willing to bet that most people didn’t care about Maggie one way or another. None of us women are out here are just dying for more of those “hottie” Kromaggs either. (And some of us really like our bad boys!)

      Ugh! The only reason why I’m sticking with the storyline at this point is because I want to see for myself the progression for the original crew to who we were left with at the end of the series.

      Sliders may have changed, but it didn’t become Desperate Housewives either!

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