Hey gang,
Whew! You can't tell the dead ballplayers without a scorecard. (At least, in PT Collinsport, you evidently can't!)
I think that we've seen more DS characters killed in the space of sixty or so Parallel Time episodes than we did for the entire nine-month run of the 1897 DS storyline.
Can you imagine what the ramifications of all these deaths/homicides are? Well, for starters, take the Eagle Hill Cemetery caretaker/archivist. In the space of just a couple weeks, the poor, old guy has to find spaces to "plant" all of these recently deceased people.
Okay, he can place Liz and Carolyn in the Collins Mausoleum. (What the heck, Angelique's "space" is now free for Carolyn to take over!) Of course, Will Loomis, not being a blood member of the Collins clan, will have to buried out in the cemetery field with the rest of the riffraff. (I think we can all agree that Quentin probably elected to have cousin Roger cremated, with his ashes being scattered over some particularly appropriate place, like the town dump or Buzz Hackett's pig farm!).
The Eagle Hill Cemetery caretaker would then have to find burial plots, for, by my count, a minimum of eight of the so-called "regular folk" of Collinsport (Cyrus Longworth, Sabrina Stewart, Larry Chase, Bruno Hess, Aldon Wickes, Fred the handy man, the other unnamed guy that Angelique "offed" and Claude North).
Perhaps, at the prospect of so daunting a task, the venerable Eagle Hill Cemetery caretaker would say: "Screw this! I'm taking early retirement at age 84, and heading down to sunny North Miami Beach!"
Nevertheless, there are those "entrepeneurs" in PT Collinsport, who would find this sudden rash of mortality to be a veritable bonanza. Of course, I'm referring to the morticians (or "corpse valets" as Vito Corleone once characterized them) of Collinsport.
Heck, they'd be battling each other to "scoop up" up all of the "stiffs," literally littering the fair streets of Collinsport!
A question of my own, however. Let's say that Burke Devlin, owner and funeral director of the Burke Memorial Home, has the late Dr. Cyrus Longworth laid out in his coffin (attired in the doctor's best navy blue three-piece suit) for everyone to pay their final respects to, during visiting hours at the funeral home. What happens if Dr. Longworth suddenly starts "morphing" into John Yaegar, right in front of the assembled bereaved, sitting there, in those uncomfortable metal folding chairs?
Does Burke slam the coffin lid down and say: "I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, but the viewing hours are now over for today!"? And, after the stunned mourners depart the premises, does Burke proceed to undress and then clothe Dr. Longworth into one of those ugly-@ss suits of John Yaegar? (Or does Burke just announce that, from here on in, this will be a "closed coffin" memorial for the good Dr. Longworth, until he's planted six-feet-under?)
As you can see, there are many unseen consequences of the unfettered bloodshed that has just taken place in PT Collinsport, circa 1970. I shudder to think what may happen in other "less civilized" time periods of this other, concurrent band of time.
Bob the Bartender
