"And what ever happened to the people or person MSTing 'A Royal Mess'?" -- Stephen Ratliff, posted to r.a.t.m.m. on January 17, 1997. Stephen Ratliff's "A Royal Mess, Part Two" was (finally!) MSTed by: David Hines (co-editor) : dhines@kruncher.ptloma.edu Mighty Jack (co-editor) : mityjack@net.bluemoon.net Matt Blackwell : mblackwl@ix.netcom.com Joseph Nebus : nebusj@rpi.edu Tom Salyers : tsalyers@dimensional.com Contributing writer: Bill Livingston [Season Nine opening sequence.] [..1..] [..2..] [..3..] [..4..] [..5..] [..6..] [SOL] [The bridge is empty.] Magic Voice: Previously, on "MUT3K"... [Cambot scrolls Suzanne Schroeder's MSTing of the first half of "A Royal Mess" up the screen *very* quickly. The entire 75K text file zooms by from start to finish in about five seconds.] Magic Voice: There! Now that you've all been brought up to speed, please enjoy the conclusion of Stephen Ratliff's "A Royal Mess". We now return you to our regularly scheduled host segment, already in progress.... [Dissolve to...] [SOL] [The Bridge is dark and deserted. A makeshift barricade, consisting of boxes and other random pieces of furniture, has been erected in front of the theater doors. Boards have been nailed across the Hexfield. Off in the distance, sounds of activity can be heard.] Tom : [O.S.] Quick! I need that rivet gun over here! Stat! Mike: [O.S.] They're getting closer! Tom : [O.S.] I'm evacuating the mess hall! Crow: [O.S.] Wierzbowski!? Wierzbowski!? Mike: [O.S.] Where's Apone? Tom : [O.S.] The sarge is dead, man! Let's get the %^#@ out of here! [Gypsy enters.] Gypsy: Hi everyone! [Tom dashes in.] Tom : Mike! I can't hold them off much longer! Mike: [O.S.] Keep trying! [Tom dashes out of view.] Gypsy: Welcome back to the Satellite of Love! Things are a bit hectic around here today. [Crow rushes onto the Bridge.] Crow: They've broken through the security perimeter! Take cover, everyone! AIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!! [Crow exits, screaming.] Gypsy: It seems that a nasty rumor got started back on Earth that, well, Cambot was that thing that holds Pokemon.... [Throngs of normal looking people rush onto the Bridge. Instantly, they begin to overturn things, frantically looking for something. They start to shake Cambot, causing the picture to shake also.] Gypsy: ... well, you can see what happened. Voice: Where are they?! Voice 2: They've got to be around here somewhere! Voice 3: Got to catch them all! Got! To! Catch! Them! All! Voice 4: Hey! There's a new breed of them over here! Crow: [O.S.] Ahhh!!! Keep away from me! Voice 4: Awww! Listen to it! It almost sounds like it's really saying words! Voice 5: And this one looks like a gumball machine! Tom : [O.S.] Nooo! I'll cut you! I swear that I will! [A harried woman, looking remarkably like Bridget Jones, rushes over to Gypsy.] Bridget: Hey! Maybe there's more of them inside this purple hamper thing! [Bridget begins to try to pry open Gypsy's mouth. Suddenly shotgun blasts can be heard offstage. The crowd quickly scatters. Mike enters moments later, brandishing a shotgun. He continues to fire as he speaks.] Mike: I [blam!] told [blam!] you [blam!] we [blam!] don't [blam!] have [blam!] any [blam!] of those [blam!] damn [blam!] Pokemon [blam!] here! [blam!] [Mike lowers the shotgun. Crow and Servo quickly pop up behind him.] Mike: See? And you two thought that my playing Doom was just a big waste of time. [He turns to the camera.] We'll be right back. [Mike hits the flashing commercial light and the planet logo appears.] Mike: [O.S.] Yeah! Who's da man?! Crow: [O.S.] Calm down, Mike. [Commercial.] [Slowly, white words begin to form on a featureless black screen...] Coming soon, a collaboration of two of the most creative minds on the planet. An epic piece of work from the minds of the creator of Cats, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Jesus Christ Superstar and Phantom of the Opera, and the creator of the acclaimed Star Trek: The Next Generation spin-off, "The Marrissa Stories." [The blackness disappears and we can see throngs of cheering Federation citizens, all singing...] Crowd: Ma-rris-sa! Ma-rris-sa! Ma-rris-sa! Ma-rris-sa! It's Andrew Lloyd Weber and Stephen Ratliff's "Marrissa!" [Marrissa, clad in an admiral's uniform, steps onto a raised podium. Beside her is her husband, Jay Gordon. The crowd cheers wildly. She steps to the microphone and begins to sing.] Marrissa: "Don't cry for me, Federation..." Coming soon. [SOL] [The bots are busily cleaning up the mess left by the throng of maddened shoppers. Mike stands in the back, strutting around proudly.] Crow: [to Tom] You know, Cambot does look like that dispenser thing.... Mike: Yeah. I came. I saw. I kicked their collective asses! Woo-hoo! Tom : Mike, can you tone it down a bit? Crow: Yeah, we're glad that you saved us and all, but jeez, you don't have to rub our noses in it. Mike: I have become death, destroyer of worlds, and protector of Cambot! Tom : Well, you've got the "destroyer of worlds" part down pat. Mike: Hey! [The Mads light on the console begins to flash.] Crow: Mike? Tickle-me Pearl, Bobo, and Observer are calling. Mike: Oh, all right. [Mike hits the light.] Mike Nelson, Galactic Hero speaking. [Castle Forrester] [The Castle is festively decorated for Easter. Lilies, colored eggs and wicker baskets filled with plastic grass are everywhere. Cases of Peeps (R), those tasty, edible marshmallow chickens, are stacked in the background. Pearl stands in the foreground, dressed in her usual outfit. A displeased Observer stands behind her, wearing a pair of bunny rabbit ears. His brain also wears a pair of ears. Bobo wanders about in the background, occasionally stooping down to pick up an egg and put it in his Easter basket.] Pearl: Easter greetings, Nelson! We've got a really, eggs-tra special treat for you today.... [SOL] Crow: You'll be showing us a super chunk of old "Speed Buggy" cartoons? [Castle Forrester] Pearl: Um, no. It seems that you three have some unfinished business to take care of. I'll let Bobo explain.... [Bobo steps into view, carrying a thick sheaf of paper.] Bobo: Hi Mike! You see, my story begins when the Lawgiver sent me out to search for Easter eggs. You know, I never knew how enjoyable an activity that was! I've been hunting and searching and hunting and searching and hunting and searching for quite some time now, and I feel greatly refeshed. It's almost as if I've regressed to the presentient days of gorilla-dom! Well, except I'm not wearing a tutu and riding a tricycle. Perhaps I should write up an article for the journals.... Pearl: [interrupting] Get to the point! Bobo: Oh. Right. Anyway, I was searching in the basement, and beneath this lovely speckled blue egg, I found a most interesting story. [Mumbling] Then I found someone's head. It had a spit curl on it, of all things... [Pearl interrupts again.] Pearl: You see, Mikey, my beloved Clayton left behind an unfinished story... Observer: Pearl, I don't mean to interrupt, but must I wear these accursed ears? Pearl: Brain Guy. We had a deal. You wear the ears, I give you the peeps. Remember? Now do you want those delicious marshmallow chickens or not? Observer: Yes, ma'am. Pearl: Then you wear the ears, got it? Anyway, Mike. It seems that you began to watch this thing, and then you stopped halfway through it.... [SOL] Tom : Oh no. There aren't even *more* Master Ninja films, are there? Mike: What? Crow: We'll tell you later. [Castle Forrester] Pearl: No, no, no. It's even worse. It's a story by one of your *favorite* authors. Observer: I believe that his name is, oh, what was it...? Pearl, do you remember who wrote this? Pearl: [Grinning evilly] Why, yes. Yes I do. I believe that it was a Mister Stephen Ratliff. [SOL] [The crew looks stunned. After a moment, Mike gulps and speaks.] Mike: Well, we've survived Ratliff before. Heck, some of his recent stuff is pretty good. [Castle Forrester] Pearl: Well, that may be the case, but this *isn't* a recent story. It's a vintage *1995* Ratliff story. [SOL] [Mike has gone pale. The bots' jaws are hanging open.] Crow: Oh. My. God. Tom : What did we do to deserve this? Mike: Pearl, you inhuman monster! [Castle Forrester] Pearl: That's right, Mike. Prepare yourself for the *second* half of Stephen Ratliff's "A Royal Mess".... [SOL] Mike: Er, wait a minute. I don't remember a first half to this one. [Castle Forrester] Pearl: You don't? You must have. You've read all of these... [SOL] Crow: Wait a minute, Mike. I remember this one. Joel was in the theater on this one. You were trapped in Limboland. Tom : You mentioned something about talking to a skeleton.... Crow: Remember? This was just after Gypsy and Tom flushed your underwear out the airlock? Tom : Crow! Mike: Oh yeah. [pause] Well, can you fill me in? Crow: I think so. It inexplicably starts out with the Epilogue. Marrissa does some paperwork. Tom : Then Chromedome wanders in and babbles for a while. Crow: Then the story begins anew. Tom : The Royal Family of Essex decides to get some pizza. Crow: They all die in an explosion, except for Vicky, the activities director. Tom : Riker and Marrissa play "Speed Racer" on the holodeck. Crow: Meanwhile, the Prime Minister arrives to comfort poor, grief-stricken Vicky. Tom : Then Romulans seize control of *another* starship. Crow: Except the valiant Kid's Crew of the ship escape the Romulan's grasp. Tom : Again. Crow: Marrissa shows Jean-Luc and Beverly around a ship that they've lived on for years. Tom : Then Admiral Yrev Tpurroc calls, but he doesn't use 10-10-321. Crow: Vroom! Off goes the Enterprise to Essex. After all, they'll do a much better job at investigating a murder than the police will. Tom : Parliament babbles a bit about something or another. Crow: Then Parliament blows up too. Tom : We suspect a Ford Pinto was involved. Crow: Marrissa then browbeats her henchmen for a while. Tom : Then Vicky shows up on the Enterprise looking for Isaac and Gopher. Crow: Marrissa is ordered to run a security drill to continue her reign of terror on the crew. Tom : Jay Gordon wanders around the holodeck for a bit. Crow: And then Data and Geordi have to dress up like women so that they can get an apartment. Tom : See? It's all very simple. Mike: So it's a normal Marrissa story then. Crow: Yep. Mike: Okay. [He turns towards the screen.] All right, Pearl, do your worst. [Castle Forrester] Pearl: It's your funeral, Mike. Here it comes... "A Royal Mess, Part Two." Now start hopping down the bunny trail and get into that theater! Brain Guy, send it to them. Observer: Gladly. [Cue sound as Observer uses that brain voodoo that he do so well to send the fanfic.] [SOL] [Lights flash, buzzers buzz and pandemonium erupts.] Mike: AHHH!!!! WE'VE GOT LONG DELAYED RATLIFF SIGN!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!!!!! [..6..] [..5..] [..4..] [..3..] [..2..] [..1..] [Theater] [Mike, Tom and Crow enter and sit down.] Mike: So, three years to get to this point, huh? Tom : Yep. Mike: This is going to hurt, isn't it? Crow: Uh-huh. >Chapter Five Mike: ...and let Samson, Powers and Welles help *you* with your Chapter Five filing. > > Normally Lieutenant Commander Worf commanded Beta shift. Tom: He usually commanded it to "SLEEEEEEEEEPPPP!!!". >However he was busy on the planet supervising the gathering of >evidence on the planet's surface, Mike: ...planting the occasional bloody glove here and there. > so Lieutenant junior grade Ross >Lockard, Crow: a.k.a. "The suck up" > the normal Beta shift tactical officer, was in command as >senior officer on the bridge. "Worf to the bridge," came the Security >Chief's voice. Tom: At the bridge, Riker will play us through and then Data will launch into the chorus, okay? > "Yes, Commander," Ross replied. > "Begin drill Saboteur one," Worf said. "Reminder: no phasers are >to be used. Worf out." Mike: (as Worf) You are restricted to wedgies and sissy slap-fighting. > "Just great, I bet Marrissa is behind this," Ross muttered. Crow: (as Ross) But I totally approve! How brilliant! > Then the tactical officer, Ensign Henderson announced, Tom: (as Henderson) If I see that blasted "Yo quiero Taco Bell" dog again, I'm going to go postal! Mike: (as Ross) Okay. Thanks for sharing. Anyone else? Crow: (as Navigation) I'm tired of seeing all of those psychic hotline ads. Mike: (as Ross) Great! We're making real progress here, people! > "the >lights on decks 3,4,5,6, and 7 just went out." Tom: Those wacky engineers cross-circuited life support and the staff Christmas tree again! > Ross Lockard moved his had toward Crow: Say! > the control on the Captain's >chair which controlled Engineering. Crow: Rats! Mike: Crow, you don't really want a Marrissa lemon, do you? Crow: Eeewww... good point, Mike. Tom: Last time he touched Marrissa's hinder, a whole ship full of aliens died because of it. > "I wouldn't do that if I were you," a >voice familiar to Lieutenant Lockard said. Mike: (as Ross) How'd the voice of "Naughty Nancy" get in here? > He drew back his finger >instinctively. "Why?" asked the Lieutenant. Crow: (as Ren Hoek) *BECAUSE IT'S THE HISTORY ERASER BUTTON, YOU FOOL!!!* > There was no response so >Ross again moved his finger toward the button. Crow: (as you-know-who) Push the button, Frank. Mike: Crow, face it. He's gone. > "I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice said again. Tom: (as HAL) Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? > Ross Lockard withdrew again. Then getting up his courage once >again his finger approached the button. Mike: (as Cowardly Lion) Courage! > "I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice said a third >time. Crow: The story that unabashedly repeats itself. > Ross pressed the button. Tom: (as Ross) Ha! See this, disembodied voice?! I'm pressing the *HELL* out of this button! [A noise like "Fwoosh" is heard as the image on the screen contracts to a single point, surrounded by darkness.] Mike: [O.S.] Hah, hah. Very funny. Turn the screen back on, please. Tom: [O.S.] I don't know if that's a good idea.... Crow: [O.S.] Yeah, sitting in the dark might be preferable to continuing on with this story. Tom: [O.S.] I mean, it has taken us three years to get to this point.... Mike: [O.S.] We're getting this over with. I am not going to have this story hanging over my head for another three years! Tom: [O.S.] All right, all right. Turn the screen back on! [A click is heard and the image of Mike and the Bots and the theater slowly fades back into view.] Mike: Okay Ratliff. Do your worst. > A large quantity of strawberry juice >materialized above the Lieutenant. Crow: The weird part is that Marrissa actually set that up for herself.... Tom: (as Ross, looking up) Huh. Wonder what's keeping that juice from falling? Oh well... > The voice said, "I told you not to >do that." Mike: And Lieutenant Commander Screwy Squirrel earns a formal reprimand. > The wet and sticky Lieutenant All: Eeewwww!! > got up and moved toward the door Crow: ... to start a bloody rampage throughout the ship as he realized that what he was actually soaked in was pig's blood. >to the head. He moved his hand to touch the control which opened the >door. "I wouldn't do that either," the voice continued, Tom: (as Ross) Well, geez, what *would* you do if you were me?! > "At least not >until you get someone to start looking for me and finding everything I >have disabled." Mike: Boy, God is just out to *get* Ross today, isn't he? > "Ensign Henderson, you have the bridge while I clean up," Tom: Henderson? Mr. Kegger himself? Woo-hoo! Party! > Ross >said. "Contact Engineering and have them do something about those lights. Mike: (as Ross) Have them pass around candles or something. >Start a search for the Saboteur." Crow: (as Henderson) Sir? I'm getting approximately 244,562 hits on that word from Yahoo. Mike: (as Ross) Damn. Try Hotbot then. But stay away from Webcrawler! > Ross pressed the button to open the door, >only to find he faced a wall of water. Tom: And Wonder Twin Zan stops by to help out! > The force field holding it back >released and Ross was sprayed with kiloliters of water. Mike: That's good, Marrissa, just spew hundreds of gallons of water into a vital area of the ship with sensitive circuitry everywhere. I'm sure nothing could go wrong. > "Get someone to clean up this mess," Ross ordered walking across >the bridge. Crow: *snort* "Walking"? How about *"wading"*? Ever see *one* kiloliter of water before, Steve? Tom: Oh, and by the way, the water shorted out phaser control, opening fire and wiping out the entire planet. Better send a condolence card. Mike: At least it wasn't me this time. > "One bath towel," he said as he reached the replicator. Tom: (as voice) I wouldn't do that if I were you.... Mike: You sass that hoopy Ross Lockard? There's a frood who knows where his towel is. > > Meanwhile Marrissa and her friend were having fun. Crow: And, in the world according to Ratliff, that's all that matters. > "Clara tell >me how can I get the heat detection grid off-line," Marrissa asked. Tom: (as Marrissa) I want to see how many fires we can start.... >"Without the bridge knowing, please." > "Deck Five Section Seven Alpha, Jefferies tube 27," Mike: Ooh. Right in the stylish section of the Jefferies tubes! > Clara >replied. "Replace chip 34 in the sensor access panel with a repeater >chip. It will look like a chip failure only after about five to >ten minutes." Crow: Darn foreign imports! Tom: Olestra -- for all your chip failures! > "Shayna replace that chip," Marrissa ordered. Mike: (as Shayna) Is that a ZIF socket or do I need to dig out the chip puller? > "Alexander, delay >the security officers searching deck eight section 17 Baker. Crow: (as Marrissa) Go down there and tell them there's snakes in the turbolift. They're a-scared of snakes. > Clara, I >want every senior officer on board breathing down Lieutenant Lockard neck, >but I don't want them on the bridge." Tom: (as Marrissa) Why, if we let them up there, adults might solve their own problems! > "I can do that if you take out the turbolifts to the bridge," Mike: (as Marrissa) That way, we can have a nice big elevator shaft by the Bridge. It'll add a certain touch of class to the place! >Clara replied. > "Already done, Lieutenant Lockard will be begging for a transfer >when I am done," Marrissa grinned wickedly. Tom: (as Marrissa) Now, if I can just do this to every senior member of the crew, then the Enterprise will be mine! BWAH-HA-HA!!!! Crow: All she needs now is some white-face makeup and she could be the new clown prince of crime. > "I thought you liked Ross," Clara commented. Mike: She does. That's the scary part. > "I do but he called me Risa last night and very few get away >with that," Marrissa replied. Tom: (as Marrissa) He's lucky I'm letting him live. > "I just added the Doctor to that list and Crow: (as Marrissa) ... I get to call her "Snugglecakes" in exchange. >I don't intend to add anyone to that list for quite some time, Mike: I wonder if *we're* on that list.... > like forty >or fifty years. When you are done meet me in guest suite 07-0208. Now >lets get going. Tom: We gotta take our show to Broadway! > We've got some adults to fool." Mike: Like that's any challenge in Ratliff's world. Crow: (as Homer Simpson) You couldn't fool me on the foolingest day of your life if you had an electrified fooling machine! > > After taking care of a couple systems, Marrissa wandered over to >guest suite 07-0208. She moved to open the door and instead of the doors >opening as they did in an unoccupied suite they announced her presence. Tom: In other words, she bopped her nose on the door. >"Great, I arrange a meeting place and Data assigns someone to the room a >couple minutes later," Marrissa muttered. "Well, it would be impolite to >runaway after ringing the doorbell." Mike: At least before throwing the eggs and T.P.'ing the potted plants, I guess. Crow: Okay, so she douses her friend with strawberry juice just before turning the bridge into an aquarium, but *now* she's worried about being impolite. Got it. > Queen Victoria came to the door attired in a simple dress. >Taking a brief appraisal of the girl at the door she said, Tom: (as Victoria) GUARDS! *SHOOT TO KILL*!!! > "You must be >the famous Lieutenant Marrissa Picard. I am Lady - I mean Queen Victoria >of Essex." Crow: (as Marrissa) And I am Lieutenant - I mean Captain - I mean Admiral - I mean Goddess Marrissa. > "Sorry to disturb you, your Majesty," Marrissa said. "But I >thought this cabin was empty." Tom: (as Marrissa) Too bad for you... now you have to *die*. > "The Admiral thought it wise for me to stay on the ship instead >of returning to the Prime Minister's residence," Mike: (as Victoria) The Prime Minister has busy hands. > the Queen replied. "Come >in, I could use the company." Crow (as announcer) We will return to Stephen Ratliff's production of "The Queen And I" after these messages. > "You are about to get more, Queen Victoria," Marrissa responded. >"I set this cabin as the meeting place for my Kids crew after they finish >their tasks. We are running an Intruder drill." Tom: (as Victoria) So that's what's messing up the TV reception. > "So you are trying to prove that children are smarter than the >adults on this crew think," Queen Victoria said as Marrissa entered the >room. "Oh and call me Victoria, I'm getting tired of this your Majesty >thing." Mike: (as Victoria) ... and of titles altogether. Want to hear all the titles I have? Crow: (as Marrissa) Okay! Can I call you Dave? > "Just to the junior members of the crew, the senior staff knows >better than to underestimate a bunch of kids," Marrissa replied. Mike: After all, that's the major point of this particular series. Tom: This and Scooby Doo. > "Didn't you once burn that into a Cardassian warships starboard >blade?" Victoria asked. Mike: Ooh, he checked his Nitpicker's Guide To Stephen Ratliff before writing this. Crow: I can't imagine that book sold more than maybe 93 copies. Tom: I thought what we do was the Nitpicker's Guide to Ratliff. > "Yes I burnt that into the Gul Ducats ship," Marrissa said. >"The full message was 'I was beaten by a bunch of kids.' but it was on >the port blade. I later added the word twice to the inscription." Mike: (as Marrissa) Basically, I carved my entire gospel on there. > "Is it the right side or left starboard?" Victoria asked. Mike: Let's hear it for the new Commander-In-Chief of Essex's military! > "Right," Marrissa replied. > "That explains it. I had the two mixed up," Crow: Right. Tom: So, then, port is left? Crow: Right. Tom: Port is right? Crow: No. Remember, the first thing you pick, port, is left. Tom: So after that... Crow: After that option's gone, starboard is left. Tom: Which is right. Crow: Right! Tom: Which one's that? Mike: The, uh, starboard sketch, ladies and gentlemen. > the Queen replied >as the door chimed. Crow: No one will be seated during the intense and shocking "Port And Starboard" scene! Do not reveal this scene to your friends! > "Come in." Clara and Shayna entered the room. "These >must be more of your crew." Tom: (under his breath) The markings on their foreheads and hands gave it away... > "Yes, Ensign Clara Sutter, my First Officer for the last year," >Marrissa introduced, "and Shayna Sachs, Mike: ... my Last Officer for the first year. > who succeeded Clara as Chief >Engineer. Crow: After Clara was disqualified for appearing in PlayToddler. > Clara, Shayna, this is Queen Victoria of Essex." > "But don't call me your Majesty," Victoria replied. Tom: Looks like the meeting of the "Overtitled Title-Haters Club" can come to order now. > "I've been >looking forward to meeting you and your Kids crew ever since the Prime >Minister told me that the Enterprise was on its way." Mike: (as Victoria) He fled the planet after telling us that. I'm not sure why... > "Why us?" Shayna asked. > "Yeah, Marrissa I can see, but us, we just follow orders," Clara >added. Crow: (with German accent) Ja, ja... ve just follow orders, mein fuhr... I mean, Marrissa. > "Clara, you are just about the most humble person I know," >Marrissa replied. Tom: Next to Phil Rizutto, that is. > "After that paper on warp speed asymptotes, Mike: (as Marrissa) ... I doubt that anyone will ever take you seriously again. I mean, what was the deal with the warp-powered jelly doughnuts? Tom: (as Clara, whining) They were just a metaphor! > I don't think >you can claim to be following orders any more." > "I read that paper," Victoria said. "It was most enlightening." > "You read the Cochrane Journal of Engineering?" Clara said. Tom: In the future, Queens will be nerds! Mike: Sure! Why not? She's royalty. The only demands on her day are opening a shopping mall, and shooting documentaries on architecture for PBS. Crow: Note, it's the *Cochrane* Journal of Engineering, because scientific history will go for 400 years with exactly *one* significant name. > "I >sent copies to several people after my article was published and they didn't >read it. In fact Lieutenant Commander LaForge, the Chief Engineer, didn't >read it." Tom: (as Marrissa) Oh, he was too busy ogling me in my swimsuit, like all the rabble. Mike: Clara, try to understand... *nobody* reads junk mail! Crow: But you'd think that Geordi's lack of a love life would give him lots of free time to catch up on his reading. > "I was the tenth in line to the throne until I ascended the >throne," Victoria said. "I was considering a career as a commercial starship >engineer." Tom: (falsetto) This is your captain, Fergie, speaking. Our crusing altitude today will be... Mike: (as Victoria) ... until word got out that I couldn't tell my "port" from my "starboard". Nobody wanted to hire me after that for some reason. > "Remember who did read your article, Clara," Shayna reminded. Tom: (as Clara) Well, there was that Bolian barber, a couple guys named Steve and Frank, Professors Howard, Fine and Howard and that charming Ted Kaczynski person. > "Counselor Troi, of all people, the only one who reads it," >Clara said. "I still can't figure out why her." Crow: Oh. Here we go. "The Cochrane Journal of Engineering: An Engineering Magazine for the Superfluous Personnel on a Starship." Tom: Well, with Marrissa around, the entire bridge crew should be reading it. Mike: Knowing Troi, I'm guessing she likes the pretty pictures. > "I can, she wants to know ahead of time when you are going to >send Engineering to her with feelings of inadequacy," Marrissa replied. Crow: There's a reminder for you, just in case that you've forgotten that the Kid's Crew are heads and shoulders above every other person in Starfleet. Tom: Didn't Troi already explain this to Clara back in "Away From Home"? > "It seems that you have quite a crew," Victoria said. "Are they >all genius?" Mike: (as Marrissa) They're pretty rock stupid actually. It's me, I tell you, me! > "No just in their fields," Marrissa said. "For instance Clara >here is still having trouble with languages other than Federation Standard. Crow: Other languages use *words* instead of Treknobabble. Who knew? >I'm having a hard time in Warp Calculus." All: [gasp] Crow: Mike--did she... did she just admit an inadequacy? Hold me. I'm scared. Mike: Me too. Hold me, Tom. Tom: I'm scared too! Hold me, um... um... oh, skip it. > "Marrissa makes us want to study everything in our field," >Shayna responded. Mike: (as Shayna) Which, in my case, means boys and shopping! > "At least that way we can beat her in something," Clara chimed >in. "We certainly can't beat her in the Kobayashi Maru or most other >command simulations." The door chimed. Tom: (as Clara) We're a tenth of a second less. We feel so inadequate. > "Come in," Victoria asked. Alexander entered. "You must be the >Chief of Security." Crow: I must? Well, if you insist, Your Goofiness... > "No he is the Chief of Operations and Second Officer, Alexander >Roshenko," Marrissa corrected. Tom: (as Alexander) Oh, the Klingon ALWAYS has to be Security. Racist pig! > "This is Queen Victoria of Essex, Alex, but >don't call her your Majesty." Mike: Ladies and Gentlemen, Queen Victoria Ray Jay Johnson of Essex! > "What should we call you?" Alexander said to the Queen. Crow: Call her Dave! I dare ya! > "Just Victoria please," the Queen replied. Tom: (as Alexander) Hi there, Just Victoria! [Crow and Mike turn to stare at Tom.] > "Now that Alexander has arrived I better end the drill," >Marrissa said. "Lieutenant Picard to all on duty Engineering and Security >personnel. Secure from drill. Mike: Feeling mighty insecure about the awl, though. > Security and Engineering must submit drill >evaluations by 0900 hours tomorrow mourning to me. Crow: Real nice of Marrissa to give the crew a chance to mourn their losses after her sadistic little "drill". > Lieutenant Lockard will >submit Security's report." Tom: Since everybody made it to Victoria's quarters, I think the drill results will be: "We failed miserably." > The door chimed. Mike: Ah, the plot has arrived. Crow: You're going to get your hopes up for these stories *now*, Mike? > "Come in," Victoria said > Admiral Picard and Lieutenant Commander Data entered. "Am I >intruding?" Admiral Picard asked. > "Not at all," Queen Victoria said. > "If you've come for a private meeting, my friends and I can come >back later," Marrissa said. "And Data, Mike: (as Marrissa) My Tamagotchi is *not* your long-lost cousin Merv, so give it back! > I think you might want to update the >empty quarters list more often." Crow: And update the web site too! > "Go on Marrissa," her father said. > "Admiral, I suggest that Lieutenant Picard and Ensign Sutter >remain behind," Data suggested. Crow: (as the guy from "Robin Hood: Men In Tights") The rest of you can bugger off! > Admiral Picard shot Data All: [gasp] Tom: I did *not* see that coming. Wow, an actual plot twi-- > a puzzled glance as Shayna and >Alexander left the room. Tom: Oh. Well, now I'm bitter and disenchanted. Mike? You're not my real father. > "Commander Data has discovered the next five >heirs to the throne," he said. Mike: They were in the heir-brush, oddly enough. Bots: Boo!!! > "I thought you would want to know right away." Tom: First is Dave Letterman. Crow: Next is the lead singer of Men Without Hats. Tom: Third is Stephen Ratliff. Crow: Fourth is Pearl Forrester. Tom: And last, but not least, Carrot Top! Thank you! Mike: (as air traffic controller) We have ludicrous plot contrivance coming in on Runway 12... > "Thank you Captain," the Queen said. "Such knowledge is very >important. Crow: Now we can determine who killed Lady Fetheringstoneshaw and framed her butler! > Especially since the heir is responsible for bringing the crown >to the highest ranking religious person who crowns me. Please begin." Tom: (as pilot) Ah, roger that, tower... ludicrous plot contrivance has lowered landing gear and is touching down. > "Your heir, is the daughter of the late Earl Flores Crow: Who, for all his wealth, couldn't afford a better name. > who was the >first son of the late Duke of Greenwich, Lieutenant Marrissa Amber Flores >Picard, Chief Helmsman Starship Enterprise NCC-1701-E, adopted daughter of >Admiral Jean-Luc Picard," Data said. Tom: (as pilot) Ludicrous plot contrivance is down and proceeding to Gate Four. Thank you for flying Ratliff Airlines. Mike: (as Data, reciting) ... Lord High Mistress of the Kid's Crew, defeater of the mighty Kobayashi Maru, Favored Child of the Ratliffverse... Crow: (as Picard) *Thank* you, Mr. Data, I think we get the idea. > Marrissa gasped. Admiral Picard said, "Data I thought you could >find no relatives of Marrissa." Tom: Well, no one who wanted to admit to it, anyway. Mike: (as Picard) I mean, we killed them all, didn't we? Data, we exterminated the rest of them, right? RIGHT?! > "Admiral it is always easier to work from a know ancestor down >than up," Data explained. Crow: (as Hayley Mills) We just had to work... *together*. > "Apparently Marrissa's biological father had >some disagreement which caused him to break off relations with his father Tom: (as Data) Marrissa's father took the "less filling" stand, while his family had been "tastes great" for generations. >and listed his father as unknown on his application to Starfleet Academy. >Of course, this is only conjecture." Mike: Unless I mean postulate. Or maybe even corollary. Crow: (as Data) My other theory involves a magical race of flying otters... No, wait, listen to me... > "No," Marrissa gulped. "It's not, Tom: (nervously, speeding up) ... just remembered... I have to get... to... Denmark! Bye! > I remember a argument between >my Mom and Dad about it. He said he didn't care to go talk to his father and >Mom replied that I should at least be allowed to get to know him." Crow: So, Marrissa knew that she was royalty then? Mike: It explains a lot. Tom: If she knew that she was royalty, then WHY BOTHER HAVING DATA DO A SEARCH? YOU ALREADY KNEW THE ANSWER! > "Well it seems I have adopted Royalty unawares," the Admiral >said. "Continue, Data." Mike: (as Picard) I might get some money out of this. > "Second in line is also aboard ship as is the third," Data >continued. Crow: (sarcastically) What are the odds? Tom: Sheesh, if this keeps up, the holographic doctor on Voyager will get a shot at the throne. > "Second is the great-grandson on a direct line of sons of the >Fifth Duke of Yorkshire, Ensign Daniel Sutter. Mike: So that's why everyone in engineering nicknamed him "Great-Grandson of the Fifth Duke of Yorkshire"! > Third is his daughter >Clarrissa Ann Sutter." Crow: Who appears to outrank her father. > "Looks like we are both Princesses, Marrissa," Clara said, >nervously. Tom: (as Clara) You're not going to kill me, are you? Mike: (as Bob Barker) And remember, in the event that the queen is unable to perform her duties... > "That is correct," Data said. "Fourth in line is Mary Sussex who >is the daughter of the second son of Clara's great-grandfather. Fifth is >somewhat in doubt, Tom: (as Data) We expect him to be born in about five weeks. > her son Martin was kidnapped and she herself attacked >last week. According to reports it was close but Mary will survive. The >fate of her ten year old is uncertain." Crow: Knowing Ratliff, he'll become President of the Federation. Mike: Oh, by the way, the actually elected, useful officials on the planet are okay too. Tom: (as Data) ... and sixth is the third son of the second cousin of the Queen's college roommate's optometrist's aunt. From there it gets sketchy. > "Admiral, where is this Ensign Sutter," the Queen said. "I >think we better go inform him." > "He should be in Main Engineering," Clara replied. Mike: Don't you hate it when relatives visit at work? Crow: (as Clara) He found this little crack in the wall there right up against the women's locker room. [Commercials: Other networks continually cancel good shows, enabling your network to pick up the rights for a song. Ever wonder?] > >Chapter Six Tom: ... or is it... Chapter Nine, but upside down? > > On the planet, Lieutenant Commander Worf and his security >officers where sifting though the ruins of the House of Parliament. Crow: But George Clinton was nowhere to be seen. Mike: Ever since the Labor Party took over... [Mike clucks his tongue sadly] >Another team was working on the ruins of the Royal Palace. Crow: Still another team went out for pie. Mike: That was Lt. Cooper's team, right? > "Commander, >I think I have something here," a ensign said. > Worf walked over to the ensign, "What is it?" he asked. Tom: It's the lowest ranked officer grade, but that's not important right now! > "My tricorder is picking up traces of neutronium tri-carbonate," >the ensign said. Mike: Radioactive Tums? What is Ratliff talking about? Crow: Gasp! No! It's the elusive shaving cream molecule! > "That substance is used only in weapon reaction chamber >casings," Worf replied. Tom: And in "Big and Tall" men's shops. > "Continue scans, I want to know exactly how >much of it is here. Worf to Lieutenant T'Per." Tom: So what does the Vice President's wife have to do with any of this? > "T'Per, what can I do for you, Commander?" the Vulcan's voice >returned. Mike: (as seductive Worf) You're an alien babe and I'm Worf. You figure it out. Crow: Hmm... "T'Per"... You know, I wouldn't think Vulcans would go in for those kinds of shenanigans. Egging, I could see. > "Scan your site for traces of neutronium tri-carbonate," Worf >ordered. Tom: (as Groucho Marx) The secret word is... tri-carbonate. > "There are traces of that compound in the ruins," T'Per's voice >returned. > "I want a full report on all substances in your ruins by 1800 >hours," Worf said. "Worf out." Mike: Suddenly it's a sixth grade science project! Crow: (as Worf) Be sure to tell me everything you know about riboflavin. > > The next morning's staff meeting was packed. Crow: No wonder everyone's there! They've got bagels! Mike: My motto for meetings was always: "Blow them off unless they've got bearclaws." > In attendance was >Admiral Jean-Luc Picard who was adjusting well to his new rank. Tom: More pay and prestige can be so trying.... > Commander >Riker, however still couldn't get use to referring to the former as Admiral, >as he sat to the Admiral's right. Mike: They're just words, folks; don't worry about meaning. > Data sat to Riker's right, having >completed the search for heirs to Essex. Crow: Hey, I think it's the Ratliff version of Matthew 20:21-23! Tom: Is Ratliff saying that Data couldn't come to the meeting if he didn't successfully complete his search? That's a bit juvenile... > Lieutenant Commander Worf came >next with a stack of PADDs in front of him. Mike: He hoped to get some reading in during this snoozer of a meeting. Crow: This is not the best square dance I've seen. > Doctor Beverly Picard had >just arrived from sickbay and checking on her patients, Tom: Seeing as how she's a doctor and all. > and sat to her >husband's left. Mike: (gruffly) 'Cause she was a woman! > Counselor Troi had spent last night counseling the Queen >of Essex, Tom: Counseling... heh heh... > and now was next to the Doctor. Lieutenant Commander LaForge >was next on the Counselor's right. Crow: (as Beverly) Her *other* right, Geordi. Tom: (as Geordi) Sorry, sorry. > Lieutenant Princess Marrissa Picard >sat at the opposite end of the table from her father. Mike: If she sat closer, then Jean Luc could give her a good smack every now and again. Tom: Okay, the seating is as follows: Beard Boy Bob Wheeler Lt. Woof ________________________________________ Marrissa Amber [ ] Flores Picard, Baldy [ ] Head of All the [________________________________________] Kid's Crews in Star Fleet, Crown Da Dancin' Counselor Barrette Princess of Essex, Doctor Babe Face Etc..... Crow: Wow. > "Since everyone is here, we will begin," Admiral Picard said. Tom: Wait, we're missing Ensign Throwaway and John Shoemate! Mike: Um... no, we're not. >"Commander Data, please bring everyone up to date Crow: (as Picard) ... as to what happened on "General Hospital" last week. > as to the search for heirs >to Essex's progress since yesterday morning." Mike: You know, I was an heir to my aunt Mildred's progress. Crow: That's great, Mike. > "Since yesterday I have exhausted all lines of the royal family [Crow opens his beak, closes it, then shakes his head.] >back to the second of the ten monarchs of Essex," Data reported. Tom: He watched "King Ralph" a few times to figure out how to do that. > "I have >found ten heirs. However I believe that only the first five merit >mentioning here. Mike: (as Data) The others did unsatisfactorily in their science fair projects and must stay after school. > The heir to the throne is the Admiral's daughter >Lieutenant Marrissa Picard." Data paused expecting that this would cause >some comment. Crow: And once again, Data proves himself to be one of the most observant characters on the show. > "So there was a reason behind your biological father's nickname >for you, Marrissa," Commander Riker responded. Tom: You mean all parents don't call their children "Evil Queen of All Darkness"? > "Mom always thought it was funny when Dad called me Princess," >Princess Marrissa replied. Mike: (as Marrissa) Of course, she also giggled wildly whenever anyone said "spackle". You'd have to have known her. > Sensing that this was all the comment he was getting, Crow: ... and wondering if taking that job on Deep Space Nine might not have been that bad an idea... > Data >continued, "Second in line is Ensign Daniel Sutter presently in >Engineering. Tom: (as Data) But he's an adult, so Ratliff demands we sweep him under the carpet. >His daughter Clarrissa Ann Sutter is third. Mike: I hear this scene was the original inspiration for "All The King's Horses." > Fourth in line is Mary Sussex >who owns a bar on Starbase 127. Crow: What is it about Star Trek and bartenders lately? > Fifth is somewhat in doubt as her ten >year old son Martin was kidnapped. At the same time Mary was attacked >and nearly killed." > "Commander Worf, your opinion," Admiral Picard asked. Mike: (as Worf) We will make the treacherous dogs drown in rivers of their own blood! Crow: (as Riker) Worf, that's what you said last night when Ten-Forward ran out of prune juice. Tom: (as Picard) Yeah. You're really uptight these days. Why don't you head back to DS9 and visit that Trill that... you're... whoops. Sorry. > "Someone obviously wants Essex," Worf replied. Crow: ... in the *worst* way! > "They are >systematically taking out all the government. I suspect that young Martin >will be found dead. Mike: (as Worf) Put an APB out on Richard Jewell. He's probably behind it all. > I recommend that all the heirs be guarded. Crow: And all guards should be heired. Tom: You know, I think guards are supposed to be seen and not heired. > It should >be let known that Mary Sussex is dead an thus make further attacks on her >unlikely." Mike: The galaxy goes into mourning as the bartender of Starbase 127 is dead. > "Agreed," Jean-Luc Picard said. Crow: Oh, this is the remake of the Bob Newhart-Gilda Radner movie "First Family," only not on a really low budget. > "What about the investigation >into the ruins of the Royal Palace and the House of Parliament?" > "We have collected the remains of the bomb casing," Worf >reported. Tom: (as Worf) We have determined it was probably a bomb that blew up. > "It was made out of neutronium tri-carbonate." Mike: (stoned) It gave us a killer buzz, man! Crow: I'm telling you guys, it's the elusive shaving cream molecule! > "Then we can rule out people in the Federation, the Cardassians, >and the Klingons," LaForge commented. Tom: Except for prank-playing high school students. > "We replaced that compound with >dosilite bi-sulfate almost a century ago." Mike: That's the secret ingredient of Gold Bond Medicated Powder that makes it tingle while it cools. Crow: (as LaForge) Or maybe strontium chromate. Or maybe monosodium glutamate. Or--okay, you caught me. I've been making all this stuff up for the last ten years. Tom: C'mon! It's Ratliff! We know it's either the Romulans, the Cardassians, the "anti-Starfleetites", the junior jumble Balkan people or the Trakce! > "In addition thickness of the substance according to our analyst >is much thinner than we have ever seen," Worf concluded. Crow: Oh, so it's actually made out of JennyCraigite. > "Comments anyone?" Admiral Picard asked. Mike: This jumpsuit itches. Crow: I'm hungry. Tom: I have to go to the bathroom. > "This was very well planned," Riker said. "They killed the >monarch, which required the House of Parliament to meet. Then they blew up >Parliament. Mike: And then they'll try to win Wimbledon! > Now they just have to hunt down the heirs and they have a >planet without government." Tom: You know, this whole story is just one big bad heir day. Mike & Crow: [groans] > "What if one of the heirs is the person behind this?" the Doctor >asked. Mike: It's about time someone started suspecting Marrissa. > "If it is anyone it would have to be the present Queen," Data >said. Crow: Rats. So close and yet so far... > "All the others were so far away from the throne, Tom: ...that their lives couldn't have been a hopeless frustrated search for meaning and significance with nothing to do but plot and scheme for decades. > or were like Marrissa >did not know they were even heirs." Mike: If they were like Marrissa, I'd suspect them all! > "I don't think Queen Victoria is behind it," Counselor Troi >said. "It was an accident that she was spared and she definitely didn't >want the job." Crow: Just like she didn't want to recite the titles.... > "What if it's not the heirs Tom: Oh, I think it's all of ours. > but someone who wants to control the >planet though the monarch?" Marrissa questioned. > "How so?" her father asked. Mike: Maybe their automatic coffee machines have gotten so sophisticated that they decided to launch a coup? > "I've been thinking about the Trakce attacks I've been involved >in," Marrissa said. "Don't you think it is a little strange that all three >of their attacks have involved me somehow?" Crow: (as Marrissa) It's almost as if there were some all-powerful person, directing the actions of this entire universe. And I don't think that he's able to spell very well... > "Your saying they where trying to get you as a puppet ruler," Tom: They needed a new leader after Jim Henson died. >Doctor Picard said. "Pardon me but I think that's pushing it." Mike: Yes, Ratliff! Step into the light, join us! > "She may be right, Doctor," Data replied. All: D'oh! Crow: Roanoke, Virginia, we need an intervention. > "According to the >interviews with the crew of the ship which Marrissa captured three months >ago, Tom: (as Data) ... and here I quote -- "In three months we'll enact an elaborate scheme to take over the planet Essex." Now, there are many ways to interpet that, but... > they where taking her to be used as a mouth piece for their government." Mike: Mouthpiece? I would have guessed a spit valve. > "It fits," Riker interjected. "They probably only recently >found out that their attempt failed so they got the next best thing, Martin >Sussex." > "And if it weren't for a fluke, Marrissa would be Queen," >LaForge commented. Tom: (as LaForge) Or maybe it was a flounder, we're not really sure. > "If Queen Victoria hadn't gone out for pizza she would >have been dead, and our young Lieutenant would be having a massive >career change." Crow: (as Marrissa) ... if it weren't for that blasted pizza, I... Oh, I mean, phew! > "And I'm eternally grateful that I'm not Queen," Marrissa said. Tom: (as Marrissa) It would wreck my plans to someday establish my own Queendom. >"It's a hindrance to my career." Mike: That would be "Supreme Ruler of the Universe", right? Crow: Actually, I think it's "jockey." Tom: It could be "lounge singer." She played the piano quite well in... Mike: Don't mention that story. Tom: Okay, okay. > "All right, Commander Worf, begin sensor sweeps Mike: (as Picard) Also some photographic dusts and some life-sciences mopping. > for Trakce life >signs," Admiral Picard said. "And since we are so close to the Romulan >border check for their lifesigns as well. Tom: (sarcastically) Romulans and Trakce! Such a clever new nuance! > Marrissa, inform the Queen as to >our theories. Mike: (as Picard) Then turn on her and savagely beat out a confession. > Doctor, I think the Queen would like an update on the Prime >Minister's condition. Dismissed." Mike: (as Beverly) Does the word "octopus" mean anything to you? > > On the Independence, Acting-Captain Jay Gordon had called his >staff together. Crow: (as Jay) We have only three days to put on the best elementary school Arbor Day pageant ever -- we've got to start planning! > "A hostile force consisting of Romulans and another race >which the Computer is still trying to identify, have taken over the ship," Mike: Er? They did? Crow: Well, I'm not re-reading the first part to make sure, so we'll take your word for it. >Jay said. "We are the only people free. All others are under guard. >Whatever ship which took us is no longer in the area. This is not a >simulation. This is real, guys." Tom: This is a hazing. Repeat, this *is* a hazing. > "How come we haven't been taken," the first officer, a ten-year old >Andorian named Thak asked. Mike: (as Jay) Well... look at us. Crow: (as Brak) HI! MY NAME IS THAK! > "I don't know," Jay Gordon replied honestly. "Computer, possible >explanations for us not being taken by hostile force?" Tom: (as computer) Working... most races are vulnerable to high amounts of annoyance and pretentiousness, especially from preteens. Also, you're ugly and your mothers dress you funny. > "The Holodeck has been surrounded by an electromagnetic field >similar to ones surrounding antimatter containment chambers," the Computer >responded Crow: Sure. Mike: Right. Tom: Well, it does make some sense, what with all of those holodeck accidents that have occurred. Starfleet may have gotten a clue. > "When was this field initiated," Jay inquired. > "At 1132 hours," the Computer replied. > "Computer, was that the last order before Command lock out was >initiated?" Jay asked. Mike: Five White Castle burgers and a large chocolate shake. $4.31, drive around. Crow: Another mysterious chapter of Mike "The Temp" Nelson's past has been revealed. Mike: Hey! > "Confirmed, Command lock out happened 3 point one seconds after >Lieutenant Commander Gordon initiated the field." Tom: (sarcastic) Hey, nice going, Jay. Mike: I think Ratliff means Jay's father here... but these ranks keep going up so much that it's hard to be sure. > "Well gentlemen, the field keeps us hidden," Jay asked. Crow: Unless they walk by the door. > "Is >their any reason we should leave it?" Tom: Maybe to get you a dictionary, Jay. Mike: Well, there's also potty breaks. > "To rescue the regular crew and get rid of the hostiles," Jay's >Chief of Security, Sibek, replied. Crow: (as Sibek) To actually accomplish something useful, sir? > "Do we need to leave the Holodeck to do so?" Thak replied. "We >have full control of the ship on the Holodeck. Tom: So why are starships designed so you can run the entire ship from the equivalent of your cable TV box? > If we leave, they will >detect us, but if we stay here we can corral the hostiles without even >leaving." Mike: (as Thak) Yeah... we just push the big red button on the plot device over there in the corner. > "I see your point, Thak," Jay replied. "We stay here, when we >corral all of the hostiles we leave and release our parents. Crow: (as Jay) Unless they refuse to give us later bedtimes. > Until then, >lets get them nervous. Tom: Ratliff's frequent usage of the word "corral" makes me nervous. Crow: Ahh! The horse racing is back! Mike: Crow, it's okay. There are no jockeys here. No horsies. No crazed Klingons riding "Son of Keldar" and waving bat'leths. It's just Marrissa, up to her usual hijinx. Crow: Whew. Thanks, Mike. > Computer, create a copy of the bridge, transfer >all bridge functions to those controls. Mike: Hey, if you can make a perfectly functional bridge instantaneously with these holodecks, why build real controls at all? Just put in chairs, a couple holodeck generators, and bingo, you've got the ultimate in control systems. > Authorization Gordon Thunder Rolls >Low Places One One. Crow: Now they had access to Garth Brooks' music collection. Tom: (ahem) Computer! Cease fanfic, Authorization Servo Eat It Smells Like Nirvana One Three. > Jay's crew took their seats and he ordered, "CONN Crow & Mike: (sigh) Tom: COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! > set a course >to follow any traces of the vessel which sent those hostiles. Magic Voice: Complying with order, Authorization Servo Eat It Smells Like Nirvana One Three. Mike: Hey, Magic Voice! Long time, no hear! Crow: That will probably never work again.... [They all get up and exit the theater.] [..1..] [..2..] [..3..] [..4..] [..5..] [..6..] [SOL] [The commercial sign light is flashing. Mike enters, sees the flashing light and looks around for the others.] Mike: Servo? Crow? We've got commercial sign! [Mike shrugs and reaches towards the light.] Magic Voice: I wouldn't do that if I were you. [Mike stops, looks puzzled, then reaches towards the light again.] Magic Voice: I wouldn't do that if I were you. [Mike looks up, then laughs.] Mike: Oh. It's like the story. Cute. Gosh! I sure hope that nothing bad happens! [Mike hits the light. A flood of red-colored liquid falls from the ceiling, six feet from Mike.] Tom: [O.S.] D'oh! [Crow enters the bridge.] Crow: Mike? We're having a bit of a problem with the dispensing system. Can you try it again? Mike: Sure, I guess. Crow: Good. Take two! [Crow exits.] Mike: Gosh! I sure hope that nothing bad happens! [Mike hits the light again. Another flood of red liquid falls directly in front of the camera. Mike is unaffected.] Crow: [O.S.] Cambot! Tom : [O.S.] Nice going, Crow. We drenched poor Cambot! Crow: [O.S.] Hey, you were manning the controls! Tom : [O.S.] Mike? Can you try it again? Mike: Sure. [flatly] Gosh. I sure hope nothing bad happens. [He hits the light and a small trickle of strawberry juice drips down from the ceiling, about a foot away from Mike.] Crow: [O.S.] Oh, that's just great! Not only are we off target, but we're out of juice! Tom : [O.S.] Let's go to Plan B then. Get the ping-pong balls. Mike: Ping-pong balls? [Right on cue, thousands of ping-pong balls fall on Mike. As the balls continue to fall, the bots begin to speak.] Crow: [O.S.] That's not as funny as I hoped it would be. Tom : [O.S.] You're right. The peeps then? Mike: Peeps? What are... [Mike's words are lost as thousands of marshmallow chickens fall from above.] Crow: [O.S.] Hmm. No, that doesn't really work either. Tom : [O.S.] Okay, let's go with the watermelons. Mike: What?! [Mike yelps in surprise and dives for cover as watermelons fall from the ceiling.] Crow: [O.S.] Not that one either. Tom : [O.S.] Cue the fire axes! Mike: [still under the counter] Noo!!! [He darts up and hits the commercial sign light. While the planet logo is on the screen, screams and sounds of heavy pieces of metal hitting the floor can be heard.] [Commercial.] One junior executive gumball machine: $19.95 One lacrosse mask: $29.95 One purple child car seat: $53 One jumpsuit: $40 Listening to Mike berate the bots: "Crow!!!!!" Priceless. [Theater] [Mike and the bots enter the theater.] Mike: You know, if you guys keep this kind of behavior up, Pearl's going to send us a home safety short. Bots: We'll be good. [They sit down.] > > >Chapter Seven Tom: Or is it... Chapter L, but upside down? Mike: With a special guest apearance by Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt. > > The search was not going well later that day when Admiral and >Lieutenant Picard brought Queen Victoria to the bridge. "Status of search >Mister Worf?" Admiral Picard inquired. Crow: (as Worf) We're still going through a thousand screens of porn site lists, sir. Tom: (as Picard) I hate WebCrawler. > "Of the areas the Enterprise can scan, we have found no reliable >traces of the Trakce," Worf said. "However, their are several areas we >cannot scan due to interference caused by mineral deposits nearby." Mike: The hair ribbon detector canna take much more of this, Captain! > "Where are those areas?" the Queen inquired. Crow: Learn the difference between good touches and bad touches. > "Perhaps I can >narrow the areas down a little." Tom: Well, that's rather painful to do. > "Put a map on screen, Mister Worf," Admiral Picard ordered. Mike: (as Worf) All I could find was a Denny's place mat map of the USA. Sorry, sir. > A map of Essex appeared on the main view screen. Several areas >were boxed in, near various mountain ranges. Crow: Hey, I know that area. That's Nondescript Valley in the Vague Mountains, just over the border from Generica. > "If I were them I'd want to be near the Capital," Lieutenant >Picard said. "Center on Londonderry, and about a 100 mile radius." Tom: Actually, after the bombings, the Capital is scattered over a 450 mile radius. > The map changed and only one of the boxed areas remained in >view. The mountain range arched from about two thirds of the way down >the screens left edge to the Ocean Atlantis. Inside the arch a large Mike: ... clown named Ronald McDonald stood, merrily hawking his burgers to all and sundry. One day he... oh, wait. There's just one arch. Never mind. >forest stood. In the midst of the forest stood a lone house. Tom: It was made of gingerbread. The Trakce had built it in the hopes of luring Marrissa there. Crow: Their plan was foiled by a pair of pudgy German children. > The mountain >range was about 50 miles from Londonderry and had peaks up to 9000 feet >in height. Crow: It was an unseasonably warm day. There was a breeze from the southwest at about ten miles per hour, and the relative humidity was--would you just GET ON WITH IT already? > "That house would be the best place for them to be," the Queen >said. Tom: ('Hood' voice) Regicidal assassins in da house! > "Why?" Marrissa inquired. "It's barely inside the unscannable >area." Mike: Maybe it has cable. Crow: I hope that they get that Comedy channel there. I love that show with the obscene colorforms. > "It's the Royal Hunting Lodge," Queen Victoria replied. "Since >the Royal Palace is gone, it is the only Royal residence left on the planet." > "Then we attack there," Worf stated. Tom: (as Worf) Or we attack Londonderry. Or Risa. Hell, just give me something to attack, and I'll attack it. > "Perhaps we should be a little more subtle," Marrissa >interrupted. Mike: (as Marrissa) Bad Worf! Sit! Heel! > "After all, they probably have a ship some where and their >ships are nearly as fast as ours. Unfortunately for them, they aren't as >well armed." Crow: (as Marrissa) That gives us the moral right to dispose of them as we see fit! > "I take it that you have a plan?" the Admiral asked. Tom: (as Marrissa) Geordi, get me 20,000 gallons of strawberry juice. We'll flood them out! > "Don't I always?" Marrissa replied. Mike: I take it this plan is automatically going to work no matter how transparent and silly it is? Crow: Don't they always? > > Into the observation lounge walked Admiral Picard, Commander >Riker, Lieutenant Commander Worf, and Lieutenant Marrissia Picard. The >Admiral sat at the head of the table. Commander Riker took the seat to his >right and Worf, the left. Crow: At the shoulders of the table. > Marrissa took the seat next to Commander Riker. Crow: At the endocrine system of the table. Mike: Got to hand it to Ratliff, he has the "constant conferences" aspect of Next Generation down pat! Tom: So here's the revised seating chart, then: Laughing Goddess Boy Marrissa ________________________ [ ] Shiny [ ] [________________________] Ridge- Head Crow: How do you *do* that? >"Now what exactly is your plan?" Marrissa's father asked. Tom: (as Marrissa) You mean you don't know either?! Mike: (as Marrissa) I intend to activate my divine powers. > "It's quite simple," Marrissa said. "Myself, Queen Victoria, >and Acting Ensign Sutter Crow: (as Marrissa) ... will build a giant badger and hide inside it while Sir Lancelot and Galahad... Tom: Wrong story, Crow. Mike: A better story, though. > beam down outside the hunting lodge with three >securtity officers. If the enemy, whether it be Trakce or Romulan attack, Tom: (as Marrissa) Then they'll suffer my almighty wrath! Bwahahahaha!!!! >the Queen and the security officers beam up to the Enterprise and Clara and >I surrender. They will probably take us to their headquarters. Mike: (as Marrissa) If they put us in the brig, we'll eat our way out. > Commander >Worf will track us and when we stop moving send a team down to rescue us and >take care of the enemy. Crow: Hey, describe Riker. > Simple and quite easy." Tom: Hey, that's cheating! > "I don't think so, Marrissa," Mike: I prefer to think la, Marrissa; or even ti, Marrissa. But then I have a music degree and I'm not afraid to use it. > Admiral Picard said. "First of >all your plan involves the possible taking of three of the top four members >of the Essex Royal Family. Second, how do you know that they won't kill you?" Tom: (as Riker, whispering) Sir, isn't that our plan to deal with our... "royal" problem? > "Because it takes those three is why it works, Dad," Crow: I think Marrissa took three before the meeting. >Marrissa replied. "In order to make the visit look possible we need someone >who knows the lodge to show us around. We also need a young royal for them >to take hostage who has a better claim than Martin Sussex. Tom: (as Marrissa) Oh, did I mention, it's absolutely essential that we dress as clowns? > Two of us will >increase the chance of sucess in case my well known resistance convinces the >enemy I won't cooperate. Mike: (as Marrissa) The genius here is that Clara is only mortal! > As for knowing that they won't kill me, I don't but Crow: (as Marrissa) ... I remember that "death" on Star Trek lasts maybe three weeks. >this is the only plan I can find that won't involve security tipping our hand >by beginning a acre by acre search. I'm sure that we don't have enough >personnel to do such a thing anyway." > "We don't," Worf interjected. Tom: (as Worf) Furthermore, more than half our our security teams are currently engaged in pursuing a gerbil that escaped from Mrs. Hagemeyer's first-grade class this morning. > "However, I still don't see how >we are going to keep track of you and Clara." Tom: (as Marrissa) Er, radar? > "Commander Riker could you help me with this boot," Marrissa >asked, bending down. Mike: Ack! Please tell me that this is the only incident we're ever going to see of Riker undressing Marrissa. Bots: Mike! > After a moment they had Marrissa's right boot off. She >twisted off the heal of her size 4 boot. Crow: It's not going to heal if you keep twisting at it! Tom: (as Marrissa) Here's a little trick I learned in boot camp.... [Mike thwacks Tom in the back of the head.] > "You will note the extra powerful >communicator and listening devices." Tom: Ah, Stephen got the "Best of 'Get Smart'" videotape for Christmas. Crow: *Extra powerful* communicator and listening devices! Now with baking soda! > "Are you sure they won't take away your boots?" Riker asked. Crow: Romulans have a moral code against taking footwear in the Ratliffverse. It shows up again in "Unto the Next Generation". Tom: You remember these things? Crow: I've asked Mike to disconnect my memory module, but no.... > "With that kind of terrain, Commander?" Marrissa said. "They'd >have to be very foolish. Mike: So... like your typical Ratliff villain then? Tom: Oh, sure. I can see how it'd be foolish to take away footgear that would, um, make it possible for their... prisoners... to... escape. (starts sobbing) Oh, Mike, it hurts... Mike: Be brave, little toaster. > You grew up in Alaska, Commander. You of all people >should know the value of a good pair of boots." > "She does have a point, Admiral," Riker replied. Crow: (as Riker) Nothing in life is more valuable than comfortable footwear. > "I don't have >a better plan." Tom: And whoever is surprised, raise your hand. > "Neither do I," Lieutenant Commander Worf concured. "What's in >the other boot?" Mike: (as Marrissa) Both my feet. I had to put them somewhere. > "A miniature phaser," Marrissa replied. "You will note that when >the boot is scanned nothing can be detected. Crow: (as Marrissa) I got the idea from those terrorists who skyjacked Denebian Air Lines flight 2038 last month! > So, Admiral, does my plan get >the go ahead?" Tom: The tension mounts... *will* Admiral "Rubber Stamp" Picard approve yet another hare-brained scheme of Marrissa's? > "All right, Marrissa, your plan gets the go ahead, if you can >convince both the Queen and Clara to volunteer," Jean-Luc Picard intoned. Mike: (as Marrissa) Oh, Victoria! Clara! Certain death! Interested? >"However, I will hold you personally responsible if this plan results in >any deaths." Crow: (as Picard) You will be *so* grounded. And no desserts this time either! > "Trust me, Dad, I have no urge to retire from Starfleet before I >turn 14," Marrissa replied. Tom: I was starting to think that was the mandatory retirement age. [Commercials: Another sneak preview of a movie you'll see here by Season Twelve. Maybe. FIGHT THE POWER!] > >Chapter Eight Tom: Or is it... Chapter 8, but upside... hold on. > > It had been hard, Crow: I'm just going to leave that one alone. > but Marrissa had convinced the command crew Mike: ... to let her stay out past curfew. >and the necessary people to carry out her plan. Tom: Previously, on Stephen Ratliff. > Now all she had to was >beam down and hope they took the bait. In addition to the Queen and >Clara, three security officers where accompanying her down. Marrissa >wasn't sure about the officers, but you can't have everything. Mike: That's a first for Marrissa. > It was a >good team but Lieutenant Lockard may have not appreciated that last joke >during the drill. Crow: Nor the pranks and shenanigans during the band saw. > "Listen Gentlemen," Marrissa began. "This is a most usual >mission. Tom: (as Marrissa) So you redshirts are going to die, and I'm going to save the day all by my lonesome again. > As a full Lieutenant, I will be commanding this away team. Mike: (as Marrissa) So no giggling! >Normally that means you would be protecting me. Tom: (as Marrissa) But I have my Praetorian guard to take care of that. > However this mission as >I said is different, instead you will be letting me be captured. Your >number one priority is to protect the Queen. If you do not do your job, Crow: (as Marrissa) ... Gary Kasparov will throw another hissy fit. >there is a Prince in Engineering who will be Prince Regent until, my and >Clara's fate is determined, who will roast you. Tom: (as Marrissa) Oh, and it'll mean you allowed the forces of evil to take over this planet. > You have a problem >Lieutenant Lockard?" > "Yes sir," Lockard replied. > "And what would that be?" Marrissa asked. Mike: (as Ross) You're *twelve*! > "I don't see the purpose of the mission," Lockard replied. Crow: *snort* Join the club. Tom: Heck, we've been saying this for, what? 26 stories now? > "First of all, as your Commanding Officer, I don't have to give >you a reason," Marrissa replied sweetly. Mike: (as Nelson the bully) *Ha* ha! > "However, I will be nice this >once. We are trying to smoke out the people responsible for the deaths of >the Royal Family of Essex and the House of Parliament. Crow: (as Marrissa) They're killing the rulers and giving us all lung cancer! > Therefore the Queen, >and a couple other Princesses are the bait. Your job is to see that they >only take the Princesses." > "I don't see any Princesses," Ross Lockard replied. Tom: (as Ross) All I see are koopas and giant blocks. > "Look again, Ross, and next time you address me off duty try >Your Royal Highness instead of Risa," Marrissa responded. "It might prevent >you from getting strawberry juice in your nice brown hair again." All: [laugh weakly] Mike: Ah, the incomparable early Ratliff humor. Crow: Thank you, Stephen Ratliff, for making us not quite laugh at love again. > "You are one of the Princesses?" Ross exclaimed. Tom: (as Ross) I have no problem with letting *you* get captured! Let's go! > "Yes, Lieutenant," Marrissa deadpanned. "Now get on the >platform, we've got a mission to do. Mike: (as Marrissa) We must build a wall across all England! > Phasers on stun. Energize." > > Queen Victoria, Princesses Marrissa and Clara, Lieutenant >Lockard and Ensigns Henderson and Diral materialized about a quarter of a >mile from the hunting lodge on the road to the Royal Hunting Lodge. Crow: Once again, in case you missed it... the hunting lodge. > "So >Victoria, do you get a lot of use out of this Lodge?" Marrissa asked. Mike: (as Victoria) Nah. It doesn't fetch, it doesn't roll over, heck, it doesn't do much of anything. > "Not really," Queen Victoria replied. "I only use it to escape >from the Press, during some of the Royal events." > "Royal Events?" Clara asked. Tom: Royal Red Alert, Royal Static Warp Bubble, Royal Engage Shuttlecraft Operations.... Mike: Tom, put away the pretty cards and come join us for a little while, okay? > "Opening of Parliament, Monarch's birthday, Heir's birthday, >Birth of new member of the family, coming of age of member of the family," >Victoria recited. Crow: So she only uses it 337 days of the year. > "By the way Marrissa, when is your birthday?" > "July 26," Marrissa said as they came up on the Hunting Lodge. Tom: Ooh, July 26th, that's the anniversary of the establishment of the Post Office by the Second Continental Congress in 1775. Mike: Thank you. Tom: Also the 1907 launch of the U.S. Navy's "Chester," the world's first turbine-propelled vessel. Mike: That's... fascinating. Thank you. Tom: And the start of filming, in 1984, of episodes of "Punky Brewster." Mike: More than enough, Tom. Tom: And the launch of Apollo 15 in 1971. Mike: I'm not letting you log on to the History Channel web site anymore. Crow: (writing) July 26... Mike: Crow? Crow: Well, Mike, we need to send her a card. It's the polite thing to do. >"Keep your eyes open," she whispered. > As soon as they entered the clearing a green bolt hit a nearby >tree. Tom: Oh no! Not the elm tree! Why do the good always have to *die*?! Waaahhh!!! > "Get the Queen out of here," Marrissa said drawing her phaser. >"Clara and I will cover." Mike: Marrissa's going to throw a blanket on Ross' head. > "Lieutenant Lockard to Enterprise, four to beam up." > As the four dematerialized, Romulans poured out of the house. Crow: The Romulans are made of liquid metal? >As they surrounded Marrissa and Clara, they dropped their phasers. Tom: ... thus making it even more easy than usual for Marrissa to win the day. Mike: I think he meant Marrissa and Clara dropped their phasers. Maybe. Hey, Steve! How about an antecedent or two more in there, huh? > "So >the birds have come home to roost," the Romulan Commander said. "Search them, >leave their communicators on the ground, then tie their hands >and take them to Headquarters." Crow: (as the Romulan) Right. That's search Headquarters, tie their communicators to their hands, and leave them on the ground. No, wait... it's tie them to Headquarters, and then--look, I'll come in again. > > On the Bridge of the Enterprise-E, Worf announced, "The Romulans >have taken the bait. Communicator signals are diverging." Tom: (as Worf) Also, Mrs. Hagemeyer reports two gerbils and a hamster are now missing. My teams are responding. > "Inform me when they stop moving," Admiral Picard said. "I'll >be in my ready room." He got up and walked into his ready room. Mike: That's what I like in a commander. He does just what he says that he's going to do. > "I do not think the Captain appreciates Marrissa's bold plan," Crow: (as muffled Picard) I heard that! Fifty lashes for all of you! >Worf commented after the door to the ready room closed. > "He appreciates it all right," Commander Riker responded. "But, >he wishes Marrissa didn't have to go into danger to execute it." > "I do not understand," Worf replied. Tom: Get your own Klingon Rock-em Sock-em Security Chief! Emotional life sold separately. > "Perhaps, I can explain," Counselor Troi said. "The Captain, >loves his adopted daughter. Crow: (as Troi) And before you ask, I'm not sure why either. > He would prefer, like most parents, to see that >no harm comes to her." Worf shook his head indicating that he still did >not understand. Mike: "Worf" must be Klingon for "bag of hammers". > "Worf, would you let Alexander do a similar mission?" Crow: (as Worf) Sure! Why I'd do anything to get Mr. "I don't wanna be a warrior!" out of my life! > "I see your point Counselor." > > Meanwhile in the Holodeck of the starship Independence, Jay >Gordon and his Kid's crew were enjoying command. "Sirek, how is the search >going?" Jay Gordon asked his Vulcan Security officer. Tom: (as Sirek) No good--we still can't find the Virtual Valerie program. I'll keep looking in Riker's files.... > "We have about 14 of the 30 hostile confined," he replied. Mike: (as Sirek) And 27 of the 40 Easter eggs too! > "Carry on, Patrick, current course and speed?" Jay inquired. Crow: We interrupt this program to announce that Ratliff has spelled "course" correctly. We now return to our fanfic. Tom: Well, he does succeed in that *occasionally*... > "Course is 121 mark 5, speed is warp 4, Mike: Barometer is falling and a high pressure system is moving in from Canada. > which is fast as I can >risk going and still follow the hostile warp signature," the CONN officer >said. Crow: (as Patrick) And as fast as we can lay bread crumbs so we can find our way back. > "Brian, what is on that heading," Jay asked his OPS officer. > "The Federation Member Planet Essex," the red haired boy >replied. > "What starships are nearby?" Jay asked. Tom: (as Brian) The Battlestar Galactica, the White Star, the Millenium Falcon, a Dahak Class Planetoid, and the Heart of Gold, sir. Mike: (as Jay) Dear God... it's a crossover! We must be in a fanfic! Helm! Get us as far away from here as possible! Now! > "The Enterprise-E is in orbit of Essex," Brian replied. Crow: As opposed to the Enterprise D, which is currently an expensive giant plow, and the Enterprise F, which does not yet exist. > "Her >current mission is to investigate the destruction of their Royal Palace >and House of Parliament." > "I think we may have something for Captain Picard," Tom: (as Jay) How's that toupee coming? > Jay said. >"Tira, did you get around to identifying the warp traces?" Crow: (as Tira) Yes, sir. They seem to be warp traces. > "Yes, Jay," the Bajoran Chief Engineer and Second Officer said. >"They are Trakce warp signatures, modified to work with a Romulan cloaking >device." Crow: However, they foolishly left their right turn blinker on. Tom: Starboard? Crow: Right. > "Sirek, compare the unknown life forms with Trakce life signs," >Jay ordered. > "Identity confirmed," Sirek said. "Why didn't the computer >identify them on its own?" Mike: We needed some excuse for suspense. > "The program probably needs updating," Crow: Once again in a Ratliff fanfic, better tech support would save the day. Tom: Well, Ratliff is a computer lab assistant. Mike: So? Tom: Well, one of our authors can empathize with that. > Jay said. "Open a >channel to the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E." Tom: I guess he mentioned the call numbers to avoid confusion with all the other starship Enterprises in this story. > "Channel Open," Sibek replied. Crow: So why didn't they call for help instead of pretending to be real officers days ago? > The bridge of the Enterprise >appeared on screen. Commander Riker was sitting in the command chair. >Counselor Troi was next to him. Above him stood Worf. Ensign Katherine >Szustakowski and Data occupied the forward stations of CONN and OPS, >respectively. Tom: So, to sum up, the bridge of the Enterprise appeared on screen. > "Jay, what a surprise, why are you in command of the >Independence again?" Commander Riker asked. Mike: (as Riker) Don't they keep catching you and putting you back in bed? > "A combined force of Romulans and Trakce took over the ship, a >couple days ago," Jay said. "As usual I was on the Holodeck Crow: (as Jay) ... using video games to sublimate my desire for true affection. > and took >command after they imprisoned the adult crew. We've been following their >ship ever since. Tom: So... there's either a bunch of stupid aliens who haven't noticed that the ship isn't under their control or there's a bunch of stupid Kid's Crew members who haven't figured out how to look out the door. > It seems to have been on a direct course to Essex." > "Jay get here as soon as you can," Commander Riker said. "I >have a feeling we will need the Independence. Mike: (as Riker) We'll also need that hostile force you're bringing. > Do you need any help?" Crow: (as Jay) I could use a tutor for history. We're covering the Philippine Insurrection and I just don't get it. > "When I arrive I'll need some one to help to uncouple life support Tom: Yeah, that's one thing you can do to solve your little invasion problem. A trifle extreme, though. >and intruder controls from several doors and forcefields," Jay said. Mike: (as Jay) Our feats of sabotage pretty much wiped out everybody who wasn't killed by the invaders. > "They >locked up the adults pretty good. I think we can restrain our intruders >from the Holodeck though. We already have 14 of the 30. Crow: (as Jay) Well, okay, *they* passed out after having the commissary's "mystery spaghetti," but they're still out of action. > Patrick, >increase speed to warp 10, Tom: (as Jay) Unless that's impossible again this week. > and give me a revised ETA." > "Two hours three minutes," the helmsmen replied. Mike: The two hours is so they can turn into lizards and mate with each other. > "I assume you heard that?" Jay asked. > "Yes, Admiral Picard will expect you then," Riker responded. Crow: (as Riker) You will be allowed to have Cap'n Crunch, and eat it out of the blue bowl when you arrive. > "Admiral, huh, I see someone decided to answer my question," Jay >commented. > "You were the little bird at Admiral Necheyev's ear?" Riker >asked. Tom: (as Jay) Yeah, it was a nasty transporter accident with Yakky Doodle, but we got it all straightened out. > "Yes, but Marrissa was the bug in mine," Jay responded. Mike: (as Jay) She threatened to lay her eggs in my brain if I didn't get her dad a promotion. It was creepy. >"Independence out." Crow: Mike, the imagery here is not helping me. Mike: Let's take a break. [They get up and exit the theater.] [Commercials.] [SOL] [The bridge of the Satellite of Love is teeming with activity. Tom and Crow stand behind the command console. In between the pair stand Ryan Stiles and Colin Mochrie. Peppy music plays in the background, and the quartet is bobbing up and down in time with the music.] Crow: o/~ Hey there, everybody! We're stuck up here in space! Forced to watch bad movies It all seems such a waste! Things sure could be better, but I'm not going to lie! We're still better off than that Bill Clinton guy! o/~ [Applause and cheers can be heard in the background. Cambot's view switches to Ryan.] Ryan: o/~ I'm a TV actor, I work on ABC. They pay me lots of money To work with Drew Car-ey. I don't watch bad movies, But my fate's even worse... Drew likes to act in the nude, whenever we rehearse! o/~ [The crowd cheers wildly. Cambot switches to Drew, who's blushing furiously. Cambot switches back to Colin.] Colin: o/~ Here are these two robots, I guess they're out of luck. You could feel kind of sorry For Fireplug and Spider-Duck. Seeing these bad movies Must really, really suck. But I don't have to watch them, so I don't give a flying... leap. o/~ [The crowd hoots and hollers. Mike enters from the right side of the bridge with a confused expression on his face.] Mike: Guys? What's going on here? Tom: o/~ Hey, Mike, I've got a secret, So promise you won't tell. The friendly folks from "Whose Line" Have come to visit for a spell. As you can see, it looks like Drew Has "Hoedown" on the brain. But it keeps us out of the theater, so I really can't complain! o/~ [More applause. Music continues under.] Mike: That's pretty neat, Tom. Tom : Hey, grab a verse, Mike! Crow: Yeah, join the fun. Mike: Oh, I couldn't... Drew: [O.S.] Oh, c'mon Nelson, don't be a party pooper. Mike: Well, if you're sure... All : Yeah, c'mon, you can do it, etc. [Mike starts getting into it and bobbing up and down to the music.] Mike: o/~ Oh, Jack Frost and Doc Thinker, The Final Sacrifice, Time Speeder and Time Chaser and Those Questing Delta Knights! You wonder how we live through all These dastardly attacks? We say to ourselves it's just a show, we should really just relax! o/~ All: REALLY JUST RELAAAAAAAAAAAAX!!! [Thunderous applause] Drew: That was pretty good, fellas, so I'm gonna award 7 million points to Laura Hall. [laughter, applause] Okay, this next segment is called "Props". You'll each divide into teams of... [Suddenly, a peeved looking Greg Proops and Wayne Brady enter.] Greg : Drew! Drew : Oh, hi fellas. Wayne: C'mon, man, fun's fun, but we got a show to do! Drew : I'm not going back, guys! Not even if ABC apologizes! Tom : For what? Drew : They ran those stupid crawl ads for "Storm of the Century" across the bottom of the screen! On *both* my shows! Crow : Ouch! Drew : Yeah, and it wasn't even a *good* Stephen King story! Greg : Look, Drew, we know you're upset, but be reasonable. Drew : Nope! If the SportsNight folks can pull their show for one night, I can relocate up here with my new robot buddies! Right guys? Crow : You betcha, Drew! Tom : Yeah! We'll tell dirty jokes and drink beer all night! Wayne: ABC's offered you more money! Drew : Money?!? HAH! I laugh at their futile attempts to... how *much* more? [Greg hands him a piece of paper.] Drew: Whoa! Mike: How much? [Drew passes the paper to Mike, who shows it to Ryan and Colin.] Mike, Ryan & Colin: WHOA! Wayne: Well, with Tim Allen leaving next year, they can dig a little deeper. Drew: That's it. C'mon you two, we're going. Crow: Drew! What about our little club? Tom : Yeah! We were gonna sit around and do guy stuff! Drew: Sorry, fellas. I'd ask you guys to come along, but, well, I think you kinda cheesed Colin off with that Canada song. Tom : Huh? [Colin sticks out his tongue as the "Whose Line Is It, Anyway?" group trudges off.] Tom : Darn it, Mike! This is all your fault! Mike: Mine?!? How? Crow: You could have met ABC's offer! Mike: With what?! You guys have maxed out all my credit cards! Tom : Yeah, and it's your fault for letting us! Mike: Y'know, I should just forget about expecting linear thinking around here. [Lights flash, buzzers buzz and pandemonium erupts.] Mike: Let's go, guys! WE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!!! [..6..] [..5..] [..4..] [..3..] [..2..] [..1..] [Theater] [Mike and the bots enter and sit down.] Mike: Wow. I didn't even know we could fit a studio audience on the bridge. Crow: Oh yeah. There's scads of room over by the jacuzzi and the bowling alley. >Chapter Nine > > Clara Sutter, Princess of Essex, didn't like to be confined. Tom: The giant space hamsters who had captured her wanted her to know how it feels to live in a Habitrail. >However it was for a good cause. Mike: She needed to be spayed and the vet insisted on an overnight stay. > She didn't want to rule this planet any >more than Marrissa wanted to leave Starfleet. However this didn't stop >her from making sure Marrissa knew her displeasure Crow: (whiny) My feet hurt! Tom: (same) My ankles are swollen! Mike: (same) My elbows are chafed! Crow: (same) My eyes are stinging! Tom: (same) My stomach is rumbling! Mike: (same) My episode guide to "The Six Million Dollar Man" got water damaged! Crow & Tom: Huh? > and she wasn't exactly >happy that Marrissa had gotten her into this. Crow: Clara finally gets so fed up that she challenges the notion of Marrissa-infallibility! > "Marrissa, why did I let you >talk me into this?" she asked. > "You know why Clara," Marrissa replied. Tom: (as Marrissa) Because I held up a shiny and tricked you into following. > "Yes, 'It would be a good idea to learn more about a planet we >may have to rule,'" Clara parroted. "'Plus some fresh air would do you some >good.' Mike: (as Clara) ...and, still, it is more fun than that whole "Sailor Marrissa" thing. > I don't know about you but I don't classify being confined in some >detention cell on a Trakce vessel as fresh air." Crow: (as Marrissa) Aw, c'mon, the air here is nearly four percent oxygen! > "Stop sulking, Clara, like laughter, it's contagious," Marrissa >replied. Mike: Also like cooties. Tom: No girlfriend in grade school, Mike? Mike: (sulking) Um... no... > "Yes, your royal highness," Clara replied. Crow: (as Clara) That's right, Marrissa, I've been really, really *bad*... Tom: Ugh... never, never do that again. Mike: Hey, does that count as a syndrome? Crow & Tom: Don't go there, Nelson! > As they completed their conversation, a couple Trakce gray >ribbons entered the cell. Crow: Realizing that they were more intelligent than their wearers, the hair ribbons eventually took control of the Trakce empire. > "Get up," they said. "The master wants you." Crow: (as Torgo) TRy noT tO mENtiOn tHe FaLcOnS tO hIM. He LoST a buNDlE on tHe SuPeR bOwL. DaMN BrOnCoS... Tom: Unfortunately, being only ribbons, the Trakce couldn't enforce their demands. > > Meanwhile on the Bridge of the Enterprise, Worf announced, "They >have stopped moving." Crow: Much like this story. Mike: (as Worf) Request permission to shoot them a few more times just to make sure. > "Admiral Picard to the bridge," Commander Riker said, tapping >his communicator. Admiral Jean-Luc Picard entered the bridge from his >ready room. "Cap-Admiral they've stopped moving." Crow: (as Picard) Commander, was that a bald joke? > "How much time do we need to get the necessary sensor scans?" >Picard asked. > "No more that ten minutes," Data replied from Ops. Tom: Three weeks at the outside. Mike: Next December, at the latest. Crow: All that temp labor, you know. Mike: Yeah... hey! Crow & Tom: (chuckle) > "Commander ready your teams," Picard said. "Worf prepare yours >as well. I'll take tactical." Tom: (as Daffy Duck) It's mine! All mine! I'm rich! I'm *fabulously* wealthy! > > Princesses Marrissa and Clara were pushed into a large room on >the vessel. Originally it was probably a cargo bay Mike: But all the signs read 'Argocay aybay,' so she didn't know what to make of it. > but it had recently been >converted to a combination throne room and operations center. Crow: ... with a brig in the corner, I'm sure. > "Be careful, >gray ribbon, we don't want to mess up the puppets," Tom: Yeah! No messing with the puppets! Crow: You better leave those puppets *alone*! (aside) Servo, why are we getting so worked up over this? > a familiar romulan voice >said from across the room Mike: (as gray ribbon) All right, pointy-eared ridge-head. > as the girls stumbled. He walked over to them. >"The Trakce make wonderful mercenaries but when you need a gentle hand, or Crow: (as Romulan) ... someone to do windows... >even a non-harsh one you have to look elsewhere. Tom: (as Romulan) So we come to you, Enterprise, long known as the wuss farm of the Galaxy. > You probably don't know me." Mike: (as Romulan) ... and that's why I carry the Romulan Express card. > "Personally, Captain Tomallok, I had no urge to meet you Crow: (as Marrissa) You series traitor! Ambassador G'Kar, my prepubescent butt! Mike: Easy there, Crow. Tom: Yeah, it's just a show! You should really just relax! > or your >three dozen fellow Romulans, much less the two dozen Trakce that I've >counted thus far," Marrissa replied. > "This child is quite sharp," Tomallok said to an aide. Mike: Of course, from his point of view, so is Vinny Barbarino. > "We will >have to watch you closely. "You've managed to spot my entire force on Essex, >congratulations. Crow: (as Marrissa) For the last time, I already grad-... (normal) Oh, Ratliff spelled that right this time, too. I'm impressed. > I assume you are Lieutenant Marrissa Picard, the heir to >Essex, and your lovely companion is the Engineering wonder Ensign >Clara Sutter." Tom: He's not so much an alien as he is a pointy-eared Boris Badenov. Mike: No, that was that *other* Ratliff story. Tom: Oh yeah. (Tom shivers) > "Correct, now as part of my duty as a Lieutenant in Starfleet, I >must ask you why you are violating treaties between our two governments by >your armed presence on this Federation Member world?" Marrissa responded. Crow: (as Tomalak) The usual. Setting ourselves up to be humiliated by you. You? > "We are here at the request of the new head of state of Essex, >King Martin the First," Tomallok replied. Tom: A King Martin Production. > "I'm sorry but the head of state isn't a King Martin," Marrissa >replied. "It's Queen Victoria the First, granddaughter of King George the >Fourth by his second daughter Princess Isabel. Mike: (as Marrissa) She can be located in suite 101 at 613 George Street, in New Brunswick. But don't use any of this information for evil. Crow: You know, you would think that Essex would recognize *England's* Queen Victoria as the first. > Martin is fifth in line." > "And if by some chance, you've managed to kill her," Clara >continued. "Then I guess you would be dealing with Queen Marrissa." Tom: (as Clara) So you've got no logical choice but to kill us both right now. > "What if I dispose of you," Tomallok asked Marrissa. Mike: Tom, Crow and I contribute to your favorite charity! We have money! > "Then Clara's father becomes King Daniel," Marrissa replied. Crow: Right now, he's only Jack Daniel. >"But I don't think you want that to happen." > "Why is that?" Tom: (as Marrissa) If an engineer is king, then society becomes "Dilbert"! > "Because if it does, you won't make it back to Romulus at the >next prisoner exchange," Marrissa said. "Admiral Picard will tear you >apart the most painful way he can find." Mike: (as Picard) Damn you, Tomalak! I needed that engineer! Tom: Personal vengeance always takes priority over interstellar diplomacy. Crow: (as Marrissa) He'll make you read a Ratliff/Gonterman crossover. > "What makes you think I'm going to get captured?" Tomallok >asked. > "Perhaps the dozen Starfleet Security Officers who are now >materializing," Marrissa said as the sound of Transporters filled the air. Tom: So, the Romulans don't have deflector shields? Mike: It's that, or they just forgot about them. >"Time to duck Clara." Marrissa and Clara hit the floor. Crow: ... and Crow T. Robot hit the wall. When does this fanfic *end*? Mike: Hang in there, buddy.... > > Meanwhile about 10 miles up, Data declared, "the Independence is >entering the system." Mike: (as Data) They have entered the Yavin system. I think they have escaped this fanfic entirely. > Admiral Picard opened a hailing frequecy to the Independence, >"Enterprise to Independence, glad you join us for awhile." > Jay Gordon appeared on the screen from his holographic bridge. >"Admiral, I'm afraid I have bad news," Tom: (as Jay) Our lemonade stand was bought out by an international conglomerate and half the kindergarten was downsized. > he said. "Not only does the >cloaked Trakce trail end here but we picked up the trail of a Romulan >warbird as well about five minutes ago." Mike: For Independence, they certainly are ineffectual on their own. > "Shields up," Admiral Picard ordered. "Ensign Szustakowski, Crow: (as Picard) How on *earth* do you pronounce your name? >take tactical, Commander Troi, CONN if you will." Tom: So Troi's orders are just optional. > As he walked around to his command chair, Data announced, >"Romulan warbird decloaking." Crow: (as Data) They are in the Yavin system too. Tom: (as Picard) Damn! Data, you have to find a way for *us* to get out of this fanfic! > "Red Alert," Admiral Picard ordered. "Jay, get ready for battle >but do not fire until either of us are fired upon. Enterprise out. Hail >the Romulan." Mike: (as Picard) By the way, somebody tell Starfleet so they can smack around the border patrol for screwing up again. > "No response," was Ensign Szustakowski's response. "They are >charging weapons." A bolt of green energy shot out toward the Enterprise. Crow: (as Szustakowski) They are shooting Gatorade at us, this is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. >"Direct hit on our starboard shields, shields are at 91 percent." Tom: (as dumb Jay) Should I fire yet? > "Fire phasers," Picard ordered. "Counselor, begin evasive >pattern, Marrissa Mozart Sympany number 23." Mike: WHAT? Picard's using Marrissa's nomenclature for maneuvers now? Has he completely lost grasp of reality!? You're an Admiral! YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN MANEUVERS! Tom: (as dumb Jay) Should I fire now? > "Aye sir," the Counselor responded. Tom: (as dumb Jay) How about now? I... Oh! Wait... > "Romulan shields are at 81 percent," Crow: (as Data) They are replacing their seltzer. > Data responded. "The >Independence has joined the battle. Tom: About time! Sheesh, was Jay waiting for permission from Marrissa or something? Mike: Let's see, in "A Royal Wedding", we saw five Federation ships take out twelve Warbirds, and similar odds back in "A Battle For Bajor" and "Cadet Cruise", so we're supposed to be worried when the Romulans are actually outnumbered for a change? > > The Romulan warbird tried to switch between the two Galaxy Class >starships with no success. In fact after the first hit on the Enterprise >it failed to score another. Crow: The syrup line was jammed and they could only spray a disappointing raspberry soda water. > The evasive patterns were so complex it would >take a miracle to predict precisely where the Enterprise or Indepedence would >be next. Tom: Translation: Stephen isn't keeping track of this either. > Of coarse All: D'oh! > miracles do happen as the Enterprise's shields recieved >another hit. But the hit was not from the Romulan vessel Mike: Marrissa is displeased! Run for your lives! Crow: You know, if Stephen wrote a book about the Battle of Gettysburg, we would never learn any combat took place. > "Admiral the Trakce vessel has decloaked and is bearing down on >us," Data announced. > "Tell the Independence to go after the Trakce," Picard ordered. Tom: (as Picard) Use the funny voice. > > Apparently the matchup was not mutual on both sides as the >battle re-alinged themselves. The Romulan was being chased by the Enterprise. >The Enterprise was being chased by the Trakce ship. The Trakce ship was >being chased by the Independence. Mike: The Trakce ship was being chased by a giant rat. The rat was being chased by a cat. The cat was being chased by a dog. The dog was being chased by the dog catcher. The dog catcher was being chased by the cannibal. The cannibal was being chased by the cannibal police. The cannibal police... > And finally the Independence was being >fired on by the Romulan. Crow: (singing) I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning... > It was regular circular fire fight above Essex. Tom: (as Snagglepuss) It was round, even! Mike: (pulling out a book) Let me know when the pulse-pounding action part is over, you guys. >The Romulans had the least shields left but now that it was a circular >chase, the evasive patters weren't as effective and the Starfleet >vessels shields where also being drained. To an outside observer the >Romulan ship looked like it would go first followed by the Starfleet vessels, >leaving the Trakce behind. Crow: (racetrack announcer) And it's the Independence in the lead (Mike: Zoom!) followed by the Romulans (Mike: Zoom!), with the Enterprise in third (Mike: Zoom!) and the Trakce bringing up the rear. (Mike: Sputter, sputter! Kaff!) > Fotunately the tide of the battle was about >to change. Tom: They were going to restart from the saved copy of the game. > > "Admiral, another ship has entered the system," Data informed. > "Can you identify it, Data," Jean-Luc Picard asked. > "It is a Miranda class starship," Data said. "Markings indicate >it is the Papal vessel Trinity." Mike: (as Romulans) Oh no, the vessel of the leader of a religion whose tenets include peace and love for all! Run! Crow: Well, it wasn't always that way.... Mike: No Catholic bashing, Crow. > "The Pope, just what we need, Tom: (ironically bitter) ... the sacrament of holy Eucharist. > bystanders," Picard moaned. > "The Trinity is charging weapons," Data announced. > "Weapons on the Pope's ship!?" Mike: (as Data) All right, sir. Locking weapons on the Trinity. [Commercials: Another psychic hotline one. They have controlling interest in the Sci-Fi Channel, you know.] > >Chapter Ten > > On the planet Essex, Marrissa and Clara had hit the deck as the >security team matterialized in the Trakce ship of the Romulan Captain >Tomallok. Tom: Previously, on "Knight Rider". > The dozen Security officers appeared arranged around the edge >of the room, phasers drawn facing the half a dozen Romulans in the room. >Tomallok reached for his disrupter. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," >Marrissa said from the floor. Mike: Suddenly, strawberry juice is beamed in over Tomalak's head. > "I don't intend to die in at the hands of Federation >interagaters," Crow: Federation what? Mike: I think that's the technical name for those giant popcorn machines movie theaters use. > the Romulan Captain said. "Now get up off the floor and >join me." He reached for the disrupter. A phaser beam hit him >square in the chest. Tom: You heard him, Marrissa! Join him! > "I told him," Marrissa said as the rest of the Romulans >surrendered. Then noticing Commander Riker she continued. "Commander, >we need to locate Martin. From this room and how Tomallok spoke I believe >he is here." Crow: If you listen carefully, you can hear a "Whassup!" from underneath the floorboards. Mike: And that takes care of our required "Martin Sussex/Martin Lawrence" joke. > "Worf has orders to look for him as soon as all the Trakce and >Romulans are rounded up," Commander Riker said. Tom: (as Riker) We'll have to head them off at the pass. > "I had better check in. >Riker to Enterprise." > "This is the Enterprise, I'm sorry I can't talk much right now, >Number One. I'm in the middle of a battle." Mike: (as Picard) But if you'll leave your name and number, we can have one of our representatives call you at an inconvenient time and harangue you for telephone services. > "Just calling you to inform you that your daughter and Clara are >back in safe hands." Crow: (as Riker) We're administering strawberry juice as a precautionary measure. > "Thank you, Commander, Enterprise out." > "Just my luck, I undertake a mission and the Enterprise is >attacked," Marrissa said. "Will I ever be able to try my own evasive >manuevers, myself?" Tom: Well, that depends on whether or not Jay is a gentleman, doesn't it? > > Up in space, the Trinity had just opened fire on thr Trakce >vessel. Mike: We appear to have wandered into The Song of Roland, gentlemen; if you'll fasten your seat belts we can get back to our story as soon as possible. > Apparently the Trakce were not perpared for what ever type of >phaser the Pope's ship was using and the beam went right though the shields. Crow: He's using Holy Phaser! >The Trakce ship when up in a cloud of Plasma. As its ally was no longer >helpful, the Romulan ship turned to run. Unfortunately there was a >problem with the Romulan's cloaking device. The shields went down but >instead of the ship cloaking the Romulan's null singularity generator was >ejected. This left them helpless. Tom: Because a century of Romulan engineers couldn't think of a bigger way to screw up the middle of battle. Mike: They are going to be sending a *stern* note to Romulan tech support in the morning. > > "Hail the Romulan, Ensign," Admiral Picard ordered Katherine >Szustakowski. > "The Romulans are responding." > "On Screen." The Romulan Bridge appeared on the main veiw >screen. "This is Admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship USS >Enterprise. We request your immediate and unconditional surrender." > The Romulan commander had just two words for the Admiral. Crow: "Bite" and "me". > "We >Surrender." Tom: Figures... > "Mister Data, take a crew over there. You will submit to >Commander Data's command and disarm immediately. Enterprise out." Mike: (as Picard) We're going to fall for this trap, but not the one after that. > "Hail the Trinity." All: HAIL TRINITY! Crow: For those about to riff, we salute you! > "Pope Gregory the Twentieth is responding," Ensign Katherine >Szustakowski replied. Tom: He just resolved an investiture controversy with King Henry the Seventeenth. Mike: You know, I think I'm going to put a block on the History Channel's web site. > "On Screen," the Admiral responded. Pope Gregory the Twentieth >looked very out of place sitting in the Command Chair of the Bridge of the >Trinity, Crow: Actually, it's just the new Pope-Mobile. > but no less than the rest of his crew. Tom: Whom Stephen will now take about three years to introduce to us all. > It was kind of funny to >see a bridge like the one on the original Enterprise manned by monks and >nuns and commanded by his holiness, Pope Gregory the Twentieth. Mike: Funny? No. Surreal and goofy? Yes. Crow: And the fact that they had all taken vows of silence made it really hard to get a status report out of them. > On second >thought, maybe the Pope was in the right place. There was an air of >command coming from the man in the center seat and he sat like he belonged >there. "This is Admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship >Enterprise, thanks for the help." > "God is always willing to lead a helping hand if you need him," >the Pope responded. Tom: ... and, more importantly, so is Ratliff. > "What are you doing in the neighborhood?" the Admiral asked. >"This is rather far from the Vatican." > "I was visiting the Arch-Diocese of Garson's sector when I heard >my services as a Religious Leader might be of service on my homeworld," Mike: (as Gregory) Some idiot keeps calling Garson and asking if they can order now. > the >Pope replied. "Needless to say I set a course and set off at warp 4. Popes >haven't had the chance to crown anyone for over 8 centuries. Crow: (as Gregory) Since all of those silly countries rejected monarchy and all. But, I'll help restore the concept of "Divine Right of Kings!" Yes, I will! > I'd like to >end that drought." Tom: Actually, this is a good move on Gregory's part. He's asserting that at least God has control over Marrissa. > "Well I'll see that Queen Victoria contacts you to set up the >details. Thanks again for the help," Picard said. > "Don't thank me, thank the Lord, our God," the Pope responded. > "I will, Enterprise out." Mike: (as Picard) Well, I would if Roddenberry didn't demand we all see religion as primitive, silly and pointless. > "Incoming hail from the Independence," Szustakowski said. Crow: (as Picard) Stand by to call the insurance company with a claim. > "On Screen," Picard said, yet another time. > "Admiral, I have a problem," Jay Gordon said. > "And what would that be?" Picard asked. Tom: (as Jay) I got a Social Studies test the same day as my English paper's due. Mike: (as Jay) I've got this growing in weird places... Crow: (as Jay) I'm into my bookie for 30 large. You gotta help me! > "The upper level officers on this ship were placed in the brig >by the Trakce and Romulans who took over the Independence," Jay said. >"Since they couldn't use the computer, they powered the forcefields from >life support circuits and they welded the doors shut though most of >the ship so we can't even get to some of the trapped officers." Tom: So, now that they've had the force fields on for three days, all the senior officers have had a good 72 hours without oxygen and now they're spending a lot more time staring at the wallpaper and giggling mysteriously than they used to. > "I'll send Commander LaForge over to solve your problem. Mike: Yes. Just him. >Enterprise out." Captain Picard then began walk over toward the forward >turbolift saying, "If anyone else calls me, tell them that I'm unavailable. Crow: (as Picard) If anyone wants to see me in person, tell them I'm French. >Counselor, you have the bridge." Tom: (as Picard) Try not to sell it to gullible tourists this time. > > It was his cousins Clara and Marrissa who finally found Martin. >The ten year old boy had taken the confusion which the Enterprises rescue >of his cousins had caused to escape into the forest. Mike: So, finally, a Ratliff extra makes a choice rationally motivated by self-preservation. Crow: Namely, choosing to be ten years old in a Ratliff story. > Marrissa and Clara >wouldn't have found him either if it weren't for one thing that Clara had >never done. Tom: Please! We lived through "The Only Constant"'s end scene *and* "All the King's Horses"' pool scene! Weren't those bad enough? > "You know Marrissa, it's kind of strange," Clara said. > "What's strange?" Marrissa asked Mike: (as Clara) That Heckle and Jeckle cartoon where they realize they're cartoon characters and can turn into a mouse or a traffic light or anything if they just decide to, and they go around living the high animated life for the rest of the short. > "Here we are in a large forest, and I have never climbed a real >tree," Clara replied. Crow: (as Clara) I have a sudden urge for an amazing coincidental plot point. > "Then we better rectify the matter," Tom: *Hey!* Oh, wait. I see.... > Marrissa said. "That tree >over there looks like a good climbing tree. Mike: Sure! Why not? It's not as if they're supposed to be looking for a child who might be dying or anything. What better time could there be to climb a tree? Hey! The next time the Enterprise gets into a fight, why not take the opportunity to do some warp donuts? Hmmm? > They began climbing up the stately oak tree, Crow: Oh no, they're going to run into Bruce Wayne's secret treehouse! > two Starfleet >Officers under the age of fourteen. As they began to climb Marrissa noted, Mike: (as Marrissa, singing) Look at we, we're as helpless as a Kid's Crew up a tree... Bots: (groans) >"I think someone has climbed this tree before." Tom: (as Marrissa) You can tell by his pheromone trail. > A voice came down from above, "Yes some one has and if you are >Romulans, I'd suggest you climb back down and start running." Mike: Stephen, you're in danger of violating your "wrath of God in the fanfic" quota! Crow: Where's the wrath of God *for* the fanfic? > Clara and Marrissa looked at each other and said in unison, >"Martin." Tom: Or one of those Japanese soldiers from World War II who hasn't heard it's over. > "You have five seconds," Martin replied. Crow: (as Michael Palin) Three seconds, sir. > "Matin Sussex, we are not Romulan's," Marrissa shouted up the >tree. Mike: Look at that, she treed a bit player. > "I'm Marrissa Picard of the Starship Enterprise and my friend here >is Clara Sutter of the same." Crow: The dramatic return of the U.S.S. Same! All: (lamely cheer) > "If you are Marrissa Picard of the Starship Enterprise then what >did you carve and were did you carve it on STARDATE 47577," Martin asked. Mike: (as Marrissa) MAFP + JG 4-ever? Tom: No, Mike. You're confusing Marrissa with a normal teenage girl. Mike: Ah... > "I carved the word twice next to my earlier carving of 'I was >beaten by a bunch of kids' on Gul Ducats warship on his port blade," was >Marrissa reply. > "They could know that," Martin said. "What is your favorite >drink?" Crow: (as Marrissa) Blue! No, green! AAAAAUUUUGGHH! > "Strawberry juice," Marrissa replied. Mike: (as Martin) Who did you most recently subjugate and bend to your will? Tom: (as Marrissa) Jay! > "I'm coming down," Martin said. Tom: Martin seems to know as much about Marrissa as we do. Crow: He must have read these fanfics too. Mike: Poor kid. > A blond boy descended. He was >shirtless, and was carrying his shirt like a bag, Tom: And wearing his sneakers on his forehead. He wasn't exactly a nuclear scientist, here. > using only one arm to aid >in his decent. He meet Marrissa and Clara on the ground. His shirt was >full of acorns. Mike: His pants were full of pine cones. > "So you are the famous young Lieutenant," Martin said. "You >have no idea how long I have wanted to meet you." Crow: So how did he know anything about her that wasn't in the public record and therefore something any Romulan could in principle know? > "I can make a good guess, cousin," Marrissa said. "My guess is >about a year." > "Cousin?" Martin asked. Crow: (as Martin) Is it too late to convert to Mormonism? Mike: Crow, you seem a bit harsh on religion this time out. Crow: I'm still bitter over "Exposing the Darkness at Point Loma Nazarene College". Mike: Ah. Tom: Enough plugs! This is the most self indulgent MiSTing ever! Mike: If it was, we'd have plugged "Sailor Babylon" too. Tom: Just stop! > "We were doing some research to determine who the heirs to this >planet's throne were and all three of us here came up," Marrissa said. >"You work out to be fifth in line and my third cousin. Clara works out to b >e third and my second cousin. And finally I'm first in line." Crow: (as Marrissa) ... and I'm my own grandpa. > "Wow, I'm related to the famous youngest Lieutenant in >Starfleet," Martin said. > "What no comment as to being royalty?" Clara asked. Tom: (as Clara) Fool! Comment on her royalty now, or be destroyed! > "That Romulan told me that, I wasn't impressed," Martin said. >"Then I began to analyze his motives and he grew most annoyed. How have >you taken the recent turn of events." > "Martin, you should become a Ship's Counselor," Marrissa said. All: NOOOOOOO!!!!!! Mike: It's spreading! The cancer that is the Kid's Crew is spreading! >"Tell me, have you ever considered going to Starfleet Academy?" Crow: (as Marrissa) Or, better yet, use an Encyclopedia Brown scheme to subvert and avoid a time-tested mechanism to protect both children and the integrity of the fleet? > "What kid hasn't after hearing about your exploits?" Martin >said. Tom: There's that Nicholas Seafort kid. Mike: Oh, and that Miles Vorkosigan. > "Marrissa we better report in," Clara said. "We don't want our >parents to start worring." Crow: That'd be an interesting "Celebrity Deathmatch". > "Agreed," Marrissa said. "Martin, would you care to join us?" Tom: (as Marrissa) You'll have to stand on a table in Ten-Forward, pull down your pants and sing "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt" if you do, though. > "Would I ever," Martin said. > "Lieutenant Marrissa Picard to the Enterprise," Marrissa said >after tapping her communicator. "Three to beam up." Mike: And another child finds himself assimilated by the Marrissa Collective. Tom: Let's leave before we get assimilated too. [Mike and the bots get up and exit the theater.] [..1..] [..2..] [..3..] [..4..] [..5..] [..6..] [SOL] [Tom stands alone on the bridge, wearing a blonde wig.] Tom: Hi there! Do you know me? Of course you do! I'm the saviour of the galaxy, Marrissa Amber Flores Picard! Crown Princess of Essex, head of all the Kid's Crews in Starfleet, and bringer of a fantastic deal for *you*! You see, I've been in many tough scrapes, and I've come through them all with flying colors! How? Well, some might say it's because of nepotism. Others claim it's because I use underlings as cannon fodder. And the more fanciful among us claim it's because my, heh, "author" writes me out of bad situations. But no. My ability to survive formidable odds comes from my training, training that I'll share with *you* in my new Marrissa Amber Flores Picard Survival Course! [Various "oohs!" and "ahs!" can be heard.] Tom: That's right, just by taking my course, you too will be able to face down enemy war fleets, dispatch enemies with primitive, hastily made weapons, hash out complicated treaties between warring nations, or even avoid photographers who want to take pictures of you when you're at the pool. Just a few easy lessons, and you'll be able to handle all of these crises and many, many more! Any questions? Yes sir? [The camera shifts to Mike, who's wearing an earring and has wrinkles on his nose.] Mike: Hi. Can your course lead me to spiritual enlightenment? [Back to Tom.] Tom: Sure thing! In fact, let's hear from one of our graduates! [A taped image is shown. A bald black man with a beard sits behind a desk.] Sisko: Hello. Before taking Marrissa's course, I was a lowly junior officer pining over the death of my wife. But now, I'm in command of a space station, I've got a great-looking girlfriend, and I'm the Emissary of the Prophets! Thanks, Marrissa! [Back to the audience. Gypsy, who's dressed like a Klingon, stands.] Gypsy: Will your course allow me to bring glory to the Empire? [Back to Tom.] Tom: Of course! Our graduates are trained to always act honorably! And they're also taught how to eliminate witnesses to dishonorable acts, just in case. [Back to the audience. A tall, red-haired man dressed in a tuxedo stands with a wide grin on his face.] Conan: Lance, I was a homely talk show host until I took your course, but now... [The view returns to Tom.] Tom: Sir? Sir! You're looking for the "How To Be A Handsome Man" course. That's down the hall. [The audience.] Conan: Thanks! Oh, and by the way, you're a very handsome woman! [Tom again.] Tom: Thank you! Okay, time for one more question. You sir! [The audience. Crow is dressed like a Cardassian. You figure out how.] Crow: Marrissa, I'm a Gul. Can your course help me defeat my foes in the Federation? [Back to Tom. He chuckles.] Tom: I'm afraid not. In fact, just for asking that question, we're going to have to carve "I was beaten by a bunch of kids" into your hide. Sorry! [The commercial sign light begins to flash.] Tom: Well, that's all the time we have! Remember to sign up for the Marrissa Amber Flores Picard Survival Course! Since the Federation has no money, it's free! Remember! The Marrissa Amber Flores Picard Survival Course! It'll change your life! [Tom hits the commercial sign light.] [Commercials: Valtrex: It's about supressing nausea while watching this commercial.] [Theater] [Mike and the bots enter and sit down.] Crow: I wonder if Honor Harrington took that course? Mike: Hush. > > >Chapter Eleven Mike: Ratliff's bankrupt! No more Marrissa Stories ever! Crow: Keep dreaming, Nelson. > >Captain's Log >STARDATE 48835.12 Tom: Is that Daylight Savings Time or...? >Admiral Jean-Luc Picard recording Crow: We bring you now to... The Edge of Wetness! > We have successfully removed the Romulan and Trakce precence on >the Planet Essex Crow: Who were running a lemonade smuggling ring with... THESE MEN: > and solved the mystery of who was killing the government >of Essex. Crow: And who hoped to fraudulently bill the state for road repairs with... THIS WOMAN: > Tomallok has admitted that he was behind the whole plot. Tom: Via seance? I thought Tomalak died! Crow: He was caught in a suspicious farming implement-related photograph by... THESE MEN: > The >government of Romulus is denying all responsiblity. Mike: (as Picard) ... and disavowing any knowledge of Tomalak's existence. Crow: But they would be forced to admit selling drawings of Josie and the Pussycats in various states of undress to... THESE PEOPLE: > The prisoner >transport Justice has arrived to take the Trakce and Romulan prisoners >to the Minus IV rehabilitation colony. Tom: So named for the rating of Ratliff's writing skills on a scale of one to ten. Crow: All of whom bonked themselves on the head while peering into the dining room window of... THIS WOMAN: > Mary Sussex arrived aboard it, per my instuctions, to pick up her >son Martin. However they will not be departing for her bar on Starbase >127 for awhile as they will be attending the coronation of her Majesty, >Queen Victoria the First of Essex. Mike: (as Mary Sussex) Becoming royalty, going back to bartending, I'm so torn! Crow: Yet she was seen buying strawberry-flavored dental fixtures from... THIS WOMAN: > Captain Morris has finally been freed from her own brig where the >Romulans had imprisoned her. Tom: (as Jay) Oops. Knew we forgot something. Crow: Just before she finished the snowman modeling... THIS MAN: > She has commended Jay Gordon for his actions >during her imprisonment and promoted him to full Ensig