DEDHAM - During their three-year odyssey as local cable access renegades, Mark Gallagher and Eric Bickernicks never subscribed to the notion that you can't do that on television.

Turn coverage of a road race into a search for English muffins? Sure.

Do a radio show on television, dubbing an audio-only call-in program over one constant image of a mouse crawling on top of a tape recorder? Why not?

Have someone do an hour-long comedy monologue with his voice raised to mouse pitch, while random pictures from dancing Zulus to the Three Stooges appear in the background? Of course.

The title of one of their shortlived productions - "Have We Gone Too Far" - says it all. "We wanted to do this to see if anybody was out there," said Bickernicks, who provided the technical know-how for the former creative team at Continental Cablevision's Channel 3. "We wanted to see if they were alive."

Bickernicks and Gallagher got reaction from their Dedham audience - committed viewing. But they also got a reaction response from their bosses, who last week pulled the plug on the experiment. "We poured our hearts into this venue," said Gallagher, former Channel 3 program director. "I had a vision of what local programming can be. There was a definite agenda, but it was not a selfish endeavor."

Continental Cablevision managers said Gallagher's programming was unconventional and out of sync with the company's format. They fired him, and Bickernicks then quit as well.

Drenched in satirical and outrageous comedy, the original programs were anything but the mesmerizing lethargy of network television. "The programs were designed to disarm the viewer from the clicker," said Gallagher, who studied history at Boston College. From their first blips on the screen, the programs developed by Gallagher, Bickernicks and a merry band of volunteers had viewers stopping on Channel 3 - at least out of curiosity.

In one of the first shows produced by the team, "Klownhare," Dedham native John Horrigan did an hour of live, extemporaneous comedy. Technical tampering sometimes raised his voice several octaves. Constantly changing images and a maniacal laugh track formed the backdrop. "We hate the laugh track, but we put it in there because it is so obnoxious," said Bickernicks, who studied film at Framingham State College. "The images were flying by to catch people as they zip through the channels"

During "Klownhare, " the team also introduced video shorts and other segments such as "Lady Z," a parody of Dr. Ruth's show hosted by attractive woman who discussed sexual topics with callers. Another early development was "Live Wire," a public affairs program hosted by volunteer Martin Hanley.

Channel 3's crazy guys were also known for their satirical take-offs on local events, such as the annual James Joyce Ramble. In 1989, the literary road race became a search through town for 50 cases of allegedly missing English muffins. This year, Horrigan entered the race as the cheating John Who-Sane, who manages to rig the contest and "win." "That was our geo-political statement on the Gulf War," said Horrigan, who played an integral role in the development of Channel 3 programs.

At first, most programming revolved around shocking the viewer out of the television coma. But it all changed when, in a video contest, Bickernicks won a Steadycam. And wherever they went since, the portable camera went with them.

Last spring, Gallagher and his crew developed perhaps their most popular program - "The Relentless Show." Every Friday night the Channel 3 crew met at the station to begin a Dedham adventure that from filmed from start to finish and involved no editing. The travel time got to be cumbersome, so the crew allowed itself a few edits by pretending to use a "transporter' to instantly go places. The show always began with a death scene - the death of fictitious Haitian guitarist Felipe Alou. Horrigan played the fictional Alou, who was usually drenched in ketchup. Alou always sprang to life, however, yelled "character change" and embarked on the adventure.

In one of the memorable productions, Horrigan, Gallagher and Bickernicks„all playing themselves„picked up a hitchhiker on Route 1 and spent the rest of the show trying to get rid of him. The psychotic hitchhiker, it turned out, was played by a professional actor, but the program so blurred the lines of reality and fantasy, that as soon as the show was aired viewers began calling in„worried for the crew's safety. "Everybody believed it," said Gallagher. With real narrators, fictitious guitar players and a travel machine right out of Dr. Who, "We went from non-fiction, to fiction to fantasy," Gallagher said. The show became a cult favorite among teens and many adults, as everyone anticipated where Channel 3 might show up in town for their "real" adventure.

For now, the cable adventures of Gallagher and Bickernicks are over, but Dedham has been left with a lasting impression of the possibility of television.