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"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 Ensign.
Mike: (British voice) Lieutenant, take the gun and shoot the Ensign.
> I also add my
>commendation for his assistance in this system to this log.
Crow: Assistance critical to the study of volcanoes done by... THESE WOMEN:
> I also wish to commend, Lieutenant Marrissa Picard and Acting
>Ensign Clara Sutter for their bravery in during this mission.
Tom: (as Picard) Well, not really wish to. I sort of *have* to.
> After
>reviewing Clara's record I am promoting her to full Ensign. Please note
>that this promotion is effective before Jay Gordon's.
Mike: ... because, as we all know, such petty oneupmanship is what makes
any military organization run smoothly.
Crow: After rollicking in the potato fields, they would have to explain
themselves to... THIS MAN:
> This holiness Pope Gregory the twentith, also recieves my
>appreciation,
Tom: (as Picard) ... and I wish to promote him to... oh, wait. That won't
work.
> especaily after I discovered that his ship only has enough
>power for a phaser blast every three minutes. It takes alot of faith to
>go into battle with such armament.
Mike: Faith or the mental prowess usually associated with adults in the
Ratliffverse.
> But the Pope seems to have plenty to
>spare.
Crow: And that brings us to the end of this visit to... The Edge of Wetness!
> We still can find no reason for the Romulans mysterious ejection
>of its null singularity generator.
Tom: (as Picard) We have advised them to think about baseball in the
future.
> I must assume that it was an act of
>God, as the Pope insists as their is no other explanation.
Tom: I'd file this one under "whim of author", personally.
Mike: Actually, that was my fault. I went over there to borrow a cup of
sugar, and I accidentally ejected the core.
Crow: And?
Mike: (Shamefully) The core hit a planet, blowing it up.
>
>
> Princess Marrissa Amber Picard was having a hard time getting
>her dress on right. "Now I know why I haven't worn a dress in two years,"
>Marrissa said. "They're impossible to get right."
Tom: (as Marrissa) Can't I just go back to wearing my bunny pajamas?
> "Stand still for a moment,"
Mike: Stop getting promoted every two seconds!
> Doctor Beverly Picard said as she
>adjusted the dress. "There. Robe please, Deanna."
Crow: Ratliff's writing hot Treksmut now!
> "You should dress up more often," Counselor Troi said. "The
>dress is very becoming."
> "You aren't the one in this uncomfortable garment," Marrissa
>replied.
Tom: Of course, Troi *did* spend seven years wearing "uniforms" that Yeoman
Rand would have refused.
> "Remind me not to become heir to any more planets."
Mike: Sorry, it's Ratliff. Your universal domination is assured.
> "It can't be that bad," Doctor Picard responded.
> "Well at least I now have a level 14 clearance," Marrissa said.
> "Fourteen," Doctor Picard said. "That's one below the Fleet
>Admiral and two above what your father has."
Crow: (as Beverly) Oh, and you can fly, you can heal the sick, and you have
a million billion kazillion hit points.
> "I guess there are some good reasons to be next in line to the
>throne," Marrissa said.
Tom: Sure, she's potentially lost her ability to choose her own life, but
on the other hand, she can get info on all of her commanding
officer's traffic tickets.
> "However, I still want the Queen to get married
>and have children as soon as possible, like you are."
> "How did you know I am pregnant?" the Doctor asked.
Mike: After about seven months or so, it's kind of hard to hide.
> "You know that tricorder that seems to be permanently attached
>to my hand," Marrissa responded.
Crow: (as Marrissa) You know! The one this story's never mentioned before?
> "It was a medical tricorder when you
>arrived back on the Enterprise."
Tom: (as Marrissa) Before that, it was an Engineering PADD, then before
that, it was a Type III Phaser Rifle.
Mike: So, basically Marrissa feels nothing wrong with violating her
adoptive step-mother's civil rights.
Crow: Well, this is Marrissa and an adult we're talking about here, Mike.
> Suddenly their was a knock on the door, and from the other side
>someone said.
Tom: "Is this the men's room?"
> "Princess Marrissa, your carriage is here."
Mike: (as man) We had a devil of a time getting it up here into orbit, let
me tell you. Oh, I'm afraid that re-entry's going to be a bit rough
on the horses.
>
> Outside the Prime Minister's residence, where Marrissa had been
>getting ready, stood a black open air carriage with gold edging. Hitched
>to the carriage were four black Arabian stallions.
Crow: Look out! You're in rural Indiana!
Tom: That is to say, Indiana.
> A man in royal livery
>sat in the front seat. Marrissa's father was already seated on in the
>carriage in the backward facing seat.
Mike: Marrissa wasn't sure why her natural father's vacuum desiccated
corpse was there, but anything for tradition.
> He was wearing his dress uniform
>with all his medals arrayed across his chest.
Crow: (as Picard) This one's for when I beat Admiral Ramirez at racquetball.
This one's for extreme valor when I surrendered to that Bolian
garbage scow. This one's a reward for getting Ambassador McCloud a
danish....
> Marrissa climbed up to join
>her father sitting across from him.
Tom: (as Picard) Now remember, Marrissa, this coach turns back into a
pumpkin at midnight, so don't stay out too late!
> In front of her carriage and a little
>to the right stood Clara and her father's carriage. Clara apparently had
>had better luck with her dress.
Mike: She scratched off the gold stuff and won $50 from the New Jersey
Lottery.
> She sat facing backwards as her father
>Prince Daniel Sutter sat uncomfortable facing forward. As Marrissa
>watched he ran a finger around his dress uniform's collar.
Crow: (as Daniel Sutter) Damned suicide capsule's in here *somewhere*...
> In front of Clara's carriage sat yet another carriage. This one
>contained Martin and his mother Mary. Mary apparently was more suited to
>her dress and Martin's tuxedo was obviously a good fit for the boy as he
>wasn't indicating a single sign of discomfort.
Tom: He keeps acorns in his shirt. He's not exactly sensitive.
> At a signal from a man in royal livery standing at the end of
>the Prime Minister's residence, the column of Royals moved out.
Mike: Oh no, they're moving to Nashville under cover of... daytime!
> As the
>carriages passed the site of the old Royal Palace, already beginning to be
>rebuilt, Another carriage pulled out behind them and men on horseback in
>Royal Colors
Crow: Which, these days, are rubble and debris.
> pulled out and surrounded each carriage. That is except for
>Marrissa's carriage, which in appreciation for Starfleet's help was
>surrounded by horses ridden by some of Worf's best security officers in
Tom: So, Worf grades his security officers on how well they can ride
horses?
>dress uniforms, the yellow and black being in stark contrast to the
>red and gold of the royal uniforms.
Mike: For "being in stark contrast," read "clashing hideously".
> The last carriage meanwhile contained
>Queen Victoria the First and her Prime Minister. The Queen looked radiant
>in her purple robes across from the her recently recovered Prime Minister.
Crow: Turns out he'd been lost in the couch cushions all this time.
Tom: So when do Han Solo and Luke Skywalker walk up to receive their medals?
>The Prime Minister wore his tuxedo with a couple orders which the previous
>King had given him.
Mike: He's a pretty incompetent Prime Minister if the king has to sew
orders into his clothes.
> As they left the palace grounds the sides of the road
>began to be filled by the cheering people of Essex.
Crow: (as people) Yay! Let's accept living vicariously through these
inbred nobles as a substitute for achieving success on our own!
Tom: Meanwhile, Canada watches via closed-circuit television.
> The lamp posts were
>decorated in the Red, Blue and Gold flag of Essex and Golden banners with a
>V R done in purple on them.
Mike: V R troopers?
Crow: So the government of Essex is sponsored by Saban?
> In the crowd people also waved black flags
Tom: ... and they sprayed at Marrissa with the Black Flag, but she was
still there.
Crow: No, they're becoming pirates.
Mike: They're plague carriers.
> with
>the current insignia of Starfleet on them, showing their appreciation of
>Starfleet's help in the latest problem. Marrissa smiled at the crowd.
Tom: (as Marrissa) I love the petty rabble and their adulation.
> They neared the Cathedral of Saint Pauls.
Mike: The place to be for baptisms, confirmations, weddings and fish
sticks.
Crow: You've tried the rest, now try the best!
> The first carriage
>stopped and Martin Sussex got out first and assisted a man in royal livery
>in helping his mother out.
Tom: So, they assisted Martin in assisting his mother.
Mike: Yep.
Tom: What?
> The Princess Mary's train was immediately
>picked up by the young girls picked out by the Queen. The carriage moved
>off and Clara's stopped in front of the Cathedral. Clara's father,
>Prince Daniel stepped off and helped his daughter down.
Crow: They're all going to see Red Hot Riding Hood singing at the club.
> Clara no longer,
Tom: ... she was now known as "Timmy".
>she had obviously adjusted to the role well and now the title Princess
>Clarrissa fit well as a four girls
Mike: (as Rodney Dangerfield) Hey, now, I'm not saying Princess Clarrissa
is big, but four girls could fit in her title, if ya know what
I'm saying....
> from the Kid's Crew's engineering
>department stepped forward to pick up Clarrissa's train.
Crow: Local service for Matawan, South Amboy, Perth Amboy, Woodbridge,
Avenel, Rahway, Linden, Elizabeth, North Elizabeth, Newark,
Hoboken and New York arriving on the northbound track.
All: (locomotive noises)
> Then Marrissas
>carriage pulled up. Her father, Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, got out and
>helped Marrissa down. Four specially chosen young girls from the Enterprise
Tom: ... were to be the special sacrifice unto the dark goddess Marrissa.
>stepped up to pick up her train.
Mike: Much to the surprise of the passengers inside the train.
> Into the Cathedral, they proceeded.
Crow: On into the valley of death, rode the six hundred.
> First
>came Martin holding his mothers hand. Next came, Prince Daniel Sutter
>holding his daughter Clarrissas hand. Then Princess Marrissa entered, her
>adopted father holding her hand.
Crow: They're going to open up a used parts shop!
> Behind her stood her majesty,
>Queen Victoria, at her Prime Minister's side awaiting the signal for her
>to enter.
Tom: Hey, batter batter, swing batter batter.
[Mike stands up, tugs at his ear, turns to the side and pats his belly
a few times.]
> Martin and his mother proceeded to their front row right-side
>seats as did Clara and her father. Marrissa took up her position in a
>seat on the far right of the altar, next to the crown.
Tom: ...and God immediately smote her with lightning for defiling the altar.
The End.
> Her father walked
>back to the front row left side where the Command crew of the Enterprise sat.
Tom: Once again, PULSE-POUNDING HEART-RACING EYE-GOUGING SEATING CHART
ACTION!
Crow: Speaking of eye-gouging, Mike...
Mike: No. Suffer with the rest of us, you wuss.
>As the Pope was not yet ready to start, Marrissa looked around the room.
Crow: This must be the *ultimate* Franklin Mint commemorative chess set.
Mike: She hoped to stop by the concession stand for special Pope
merchandise.
>Behind the crew of the Enterprise sat the Command Crew of the Independence.
>Jay Gordon having got the message that he was to have an aisle seat was
>guarding it jealously.
Crow: So, Jay is jealously guarding the seat that he is sitting on?
> Marrissa wondered if he knew what was in store
>for him.
Mike: Any bets that it'll somehow involve strawberries?
Tom: I'll take that action.
Crow: I'm in for twenty.
> Next her eyes were drawn to the Master of Ceremonies, the only
>member of the Command Crew not in the front row.
Tom: Bert Parks?
Crow: Billy Crystal?
Mike: Barbara Feldon?
Bots: Huh?
> Lieutenant Commander Data
>stood on the left side of the altar in red and gold livery.
Tom: Including saddle!
> As each of the
>guests to the coronation had arrived he had announced them with all their
>titles and honors.
Mike: Oh no! Marrissa's programmed Data to recite her titles for her!
Crow: All the goodness in the universe just died.
Tom: Again?
> Now once again he spoke, "Her Majesty, Queen Victoria
>of Essex, first of that name. Defender of the Realm and Head of State,
>granddaughter of our late king of happy memory, King George the Fourth,
>escorted by her Majesty's Prime Minister, Sir William Lancaster, the member
>from South Londonderry, member of the order of the Defenders of Essex."
Mike: That's just as bad as the "Mystery Science Theater 3000 Vice-
Presidential Command Performance Academy of Robot's Choice Awards
Preview Special"!
> The Queen of Essex began her procession down the aisle. She
>began it with some hesitation but as she progressed, she grew more confident.
Crow: (singing) You can tell by the way she uses her walk she's an Essex
queen... no time to talk.
>As she reached the altar, she kneeled.
Tom: She places the football... waits for Charlie Brown to come running
up...
> As she got back up, Pope Gregory the
>Twentieth began speaking. "Victoria of Essex, you come here today to be
>confirmed in your role as monarch of this planet. This is not an easy task,
>and definitely not one to be taken lightly. Before you mount the throne,
Crow: Please, Mike? Ratliff's just handing them to us now.
Mike: No.
> I
>must ask you, are you willing to take on the responsibility?
Tom: (as Pope) Will you pose for the "heads" side of our coinage, if Star
Trek has money this month?
> To be the
>example for all your people, those alive now and those who will be born in
>your reign.
Mike: (as Pope) To have and to hold, until assassination do you part?
> To defend your people to your last breath. To grant mercy to
>those accused and justice to those oppressed.
Crow: (as Pope) To allow those who go bankrupt in Monopoly the chance to
'reorganize' their debts and continue play.
Tom: (as Pope) To allow those who purchase several of the same item to count
them as one item in the Express lane.
Mike: (as Pope) To demand airlines allow us two pieces of carry-on luggage
on every flight.
> To govern firmly during
>your life and to uphold the rights of your people."
Crow: (as Pope) To live as long as possible and spew out a few kids and
thus prevent Marrissa from accruing even *more* titles.
Tom: (as Pope) To punctuate willy-nilly with little regard to the rules.
Mike: (as Pope) Do you promise to use them as you will? And do you promise
not to throw them into space... until such time as you grow
*weary* of them?
> "I am willing," Victoria responded.
Crow: (as Victoria) If it doesn't interfere with catching "The Simpsons."
> "To those gathered within these walls and those without," the
>Pope continued. "Are you willing to live under the rule of this woman as
>your Queen.
Tom: (as Pope) Can you put off your dreams of becoming a *real* democracy
just a little longer?
> To have her guard your rights and serve you. To in times of
>trouble make decisions for you when time is of the essence. Do you
>want her as your Queen?"
Mike: (as audience member) Are you saying we have a choice?
> "We do," came the overwhelming response of the assembled crowd
>both within Saint Paul's and without.
Crow: (droopy voice) Nay.
Tom: Oh, how nice that the peasants get a choice in determining their
monarch. JOIN THE 18TH CENTURY PEOPLE! IT'S CALLED REPRESENTATIVE
GOVERNMENT! LOOK INTO IT, PEOPLE!
Mike: Actually, they do have a Parliament. Ratliff blew it up in the
first part.
Crow: I think that the public's just picking someone for the press to
gossip about for a few years.
> "Then take your rightful place by both hereditary and the approval of
>the people," the Pope said. "Would the heir to the throne step forward."
Tom: Uh-uh-uh! Didn't say "Simon Says!" You lose, the monarchy is
dissolved.
> Marrissa moved over to take Victoria's place before the Pope as
>Victoria took her seat in the throne before the altar. Marrissa was quite
>nervous, she hoped she didn't show it.
> "Princess Marrissa Amber Picard, you are noted as heir to this
Mike: ... weird obsession of Ratliff's.
>throne," the Pope said. "As such, I must now ask you
Crow: (as Pope) Would you rather shoot her now or wait 'till you get home?
> are you ready to bear
>the responsibilities as I explained them to your royal cousin in the event
>that she is unable to? Are you also ready to support her in ways which she
>will need in the long reign ahead of her? To act as heir to the throne until
>and if she produces a heir?"
Tom: (as Pope) Now, as runner up, you will receive these lovely parting
gifts.
> "I am," Marrissa replied with a sight tremble.
> "Then bring the crown so we may crown your Queen," the Pope
>ordered.
Mike: Better yet, bring a baseball bat so we can crown Marrissa with it.
Crow: You know, I get the feeling the Pope is involved in this story, in
some way.
Tom: I had that feeling too, but I'm not sure. Maybe we could mention
the Pope about 7000 more times to be sure?
> The Pope retreated to the throne
All: *Run away! Run away!*
> which Victoria vacated to kneel
>before the altar. Marrissa retrieved the Crown and it's accompanying articles
>and approached the Pope.
Crow: (as Marrissa) Uh... I kinda broke this, but I used some Krazy Glue
and some Bead Magic parts and I guess it looks almost as good...
doesn't it?
> He picked up the crown and raised it above
>Victorias head. (Making sure it was oriented the right way)
Tom: (as Pope) Pointy side up, and...
Mike: Oh, *thank* you for that utterly vital detail, Steve.
> "I crown thee,
>Queen Victoria the First of Essex, Defender of Faith and Head of State."
Crow: King of Suede.
Tom: Marquis of Queensbury.
Mike: Duke of Earl.
>Lowering the crown onto her head he said. "God Save the Queen."
> The assembled crowd then responded with "God Save the Queen."
Mike: Then the Sex Pistols chimed in with their version of "God Save The
Queen".
> Next he picked up an scepter from the cushion Marrissa bore.
>"Carry this Scepter to remember the weight of your rule."
Crow: (as Gregory) ... and as a token of your robbing the Prime Minister of
his manhood.
> Barely audible from were Marrissa stood, the Queen muttered, "As if
>the crown weren't heavy enough."
Tom: Yeah, cry us a river, *your majesty*. The folks who don't have their
every whim catered to feel real sorry for you.
> As this ended the crowning portion of the coronation, Data
>announced, "We pause now to thank the lord for our blessings."
Crow: Topping that list is... there's not much more of this fanfic left
to read!
[Commercials.]
>
>Chapter Twelve
>
> The next stage of the coronation was what Marrissa was going to
>enjoy, after her part in it was done. As the ancient Quaker melody 'A gift
>to be simple'
All: [chuckle]
> played (never let it be said that Victoria didn't have a
>sense of humor),
Mike: Victoria doesn't have a sense of humor! There. I said it, and I'd
say it again if I had to.
> Marrissa returned to her seat and the Pope took a seat
>next to her.
Crow: Uh... sir, could you remove your hat? The people behind you want
to see.
> The Queen meanwhile pulled a large sword from beside the
>throne and placed it in her lap.
[Crow clears his throat loudly, but doesn't comment.]
Tom: (oblivious) And beheaded Marrissa. The End.
> When the song was over, Data announced, "Here on this
>Coronation Day, the crown wishes to reward many of her people and some not
>of her people.
Mike: (as Data) So everyone check your ticket stubs, we will be drawing ten
Lucky Numbers.
> First as tradition dictates, the heir to the throne,
>Princess Marrissa Amber Picard, Lieutenant in Starfleet, Chief CONN Officer,
>Starship Enterprise NCC-1701-E. Please approach the throne."
Crow: ... and we're to believe that this is the part that Marrissa doesn't
enjoy?
> Marrissa got up and approached the throne. As she kneeled
>before it Queen Victoria began, "Seldom has a Queen had such a heir, many
>of you are familiar with the deeds of my heir. Her deeds have shown that
Tom: (as Victoria) ... she has no business whatsoever commanding a starship.
>this thirteen year-old is more mature than most,
Mike: At least if most are total spazzes.
> and certainly a
>good commanding officer. So with the consultation of my Prime Minister,
Crow: (as Victoria) Whose name escapes me at the moment.
>I have decided not to wait until she turns eighteen to bestow upon her
>the traditional office of the heir to the throne. Rise, Princess of
>Covington, Duchess of Londonderry,
Tom: (as Victoria) And ruler of New Greenpert.
> Princess Marrissa Amber Flores Picard."
Crow: (as Victoria) Take the title! Just please don't hurt us!
Mike: And now the Flores is back.
> Marrissa got up. Even though she knew it was coming, she still
>was embarrassed. As she returned to her seat, Data called out. "Prince
>Daniel. Approach the throne."
Tom: (as Daniel, defiantly) NO!
Crow: Just checking... does Data have *any* connection, formal or informal,
to the government of Essex?
Mike: He knows Marrissa.
> "Since we have a large number of titles floating around,"
Tom: (as Victoria) We're practically giving them away!
>Victoria stated. "We hereby grant you the title of Duke of Yorkshire, a
>title your grandfather once held."
Crow: (as Lone Star) How about that?! I'm a *duke*!
> "Princess Clarrissa Ann, Approach the throne."
Tom: (as a mother) Princess Clarrissa Ann! You approach the throne *this
very minute*!!
> "Clarrissa, your talents as an Engineer have not escaped us,"
>Victoria said. "Neither has your suggestions as to an excellent economic
>prospect. For both these reasons I hereby grant you the title of Marquise
>of Wessex."
Mike: (as Clarrissa) Oh no! I'm in charge of Wesley! Oh wait, she said
Wessex.
> "Princess Mary Sussex, approach the throne."
Crow: (as Clarrissa) So, should I sit down then, or...?
> "We as noted earlier have a large number of titles floating
>around,
Tom: Ten percent off this weekend only at Menard's!
> and it has occurred to me that such a title would be helpful in your
>occupation. Therefore we grant you the title Duchess of Greenwich."
Mike: How exactly will this title help a *bartender*?
Crow: (as queen) Now, do you want to keep that title or trade it in for
$200 and what's behind door number three?
> "Martin Sussex, approach the throne."
> "As your mother has received the Duchy of Greenwich, we are
>granting you the traditional Earlship of the heir to that Dukedom, Rise
>Earl Flores."
Tom: I called Earl Flores once for one of those FTD Pick-Me-Up bouquets.
They were very reasonable.
Mike: Flores, Tom. Not Florist.
Tom: Oh.
Crow: (as Victoria) Arise, Sir Loin of Beef... Sir Osis of Liver... Sir
Cumference of the Circle...
> "Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, approach and kneel before the throne,"
>Data intoned a sign of a smile darting across his face.
> Marrissa's father approached the throne glancing at Marrissa
>briefly, the message, 'If you arranged this ...' clear.
Crow: If you arranged this, you'd be done by now.
Tom: Mike, does it hurt any less if we just accept and don't question?
Mike: I don't know, Tom! I just don't know!
> He kneeled before
>the throne. "As the adopted father of our beloved heir, the Princess of
>Covington, we hereby grant you the titles, Guardian of Essex and Duke of
>New Brittany.
Crow: All this fuss, to rule over Connecticut.
> We also knight you as the first knight of the realm, rise Sir
>Jean-Luc, Duke of New Brittany and First Knight of the Realm." As Jean-Luc
>Picard left the throne another glance was made to Marrissa, this one said,
>'we will speak later.'
Tom: Maybe his tongue is doing semaphore.
> "Jay Gordon, Captain of the Kids Crew of the Starship Independence,
>approach the throne."
Mike: So, really, this is just a Ratliff Introduction Scene, with trumpets?
Crow: I guess so...
> "Jay Gordon, we observed your bravery
Tom: (as Jay) Wait! I'm not there yet!
> and your valor in defending this
>planet.
Tom: (as Jay) Hold on!
> It has not escaped our attention that you did not have to look for
>the ship who had locked up the regular crew. We are aware of the
>commendations you have received for your actions,
Crow: I'll take it, Tom. (as Jay) Geez, I'm kind of caught on something...
there!
> However that does not stop
>us from adding ours, rise Sir Jay,
Mike: Sir Jay Aragones? From Mad Magazine?
> knight of the realm."
Crow: (as Jay) Made it! All right now, you observed something?
> This went on for a couple hours,
Tom: Only a couple? It seems like we've had to read about it for much
longer than that.
> by the time the Queen and the
>royal family left all of the Command crew of the Enterprise were knights of
>the realm. Once again the royal family took off in carriages for a jaunt
>around the city ending at the site of the old Royal Palace.
Mike: Along the way, there were many "Chinese Fire Drills".
> From there
>they beamed up to Enterprise for the Ball to be held later that night in
>the Main Shuttlebay.
Crow: Where the main forcefield would fail and every character in the
fanfic would die in cold, airless space. The End.
>
> Doctor Picard and Counselor Troi with the assistance of mostly
Tom: ...harmless...
>medical staff members were decorating the Main Shuttle bay.
Crow: Oh, please. Only the geeks decorate for the school parties.
Mike: Hey!
Crow: Oops. Sorry.
> "Ensign Taurses,
>see if you can level that section of the Dance Floor with the rest of it,"
Tom: (as Taurses) If you say so, ma'am... [huge explosion] ... it's leveled!
>the Doctor ordered. "I don't think Jean-Luc will be able to tell that
>this was the main Shuttlebay after we are done."
Crow: He'll think it's Commander Troi's quarters.
Tom: Just strew chocolate all over the place and you're there.
Mike: Um, you could have simply redecorated the holodeck. It would have
taken, what, sixty seconds? Tops?
> "I agree, especially with that oak dance floor and the star
>field ceiling," Deanna said. "Tell me, have you told him yet?"
> "Told him what?" Beverly asked.
> "I don't know, maybe that your pregnant," Deanna replied.
> "No, I thought that I better wait until Marrissa stops
>surprising him," Beverly replied
> "In that case, he should find out after you've gone into labor,"
Crow: If they haven't caught on to Marrissa's ability to accrue never
ending glory by now, that embryo will be on the Kid's Crew
before Beverly tells Jean Luc.
Tom: So, you're saying she'll tell him sometime in the second trimester.
>Deanna said. "Marrissa and her friends never stop surprising people. Half
>my caseload of late it because they thought of something before some officer."
Mike: The other half of Deanna's caseload caused her to get that "aphasia"
disease from the first season of DS9.
Crow & Tom: Fanboy!
> "Point taken, I'm just glad they don't have anyone in our
>fields," Beverly replied.
> "I don't think I will be so lucky much longer," Deanna said. "I
>passed Marrissa and Martin on the way here. They were discussing the
>advantages of a ship's counselor."
Crow: They narrowed it down to two. Everybody?
All: Look hot and state the obvious.
> "At least he isn't a member of the Kids Crew," Beverly
>consoled.
All: Yet.
> "There is that," Deanna said. "Here comes Data with those
>landscapes we ordered."
Tom: Unless they're talking about paintings, that makes no sense whatsoever.
Mike: There's a Slartibartfast joke in there somewhere, but I'm not
making it.
>
> Meanwhile Marrissa was trying to get a date for the ball.
>"Computer, open a private channel to Ensign Jay Gordon aboard the USS
>Independence."
Mike: (as Marrissa) Be sure to dial 10-10-321 first.
Crow: No, Mike. By this time, it's 10-10-10-10-10-321.
> "One moment please," the Computer replied. Marrissa waited.
Tom: The embarassing thing about these com channels is they're party lines.
Marrissa has to wait for Farmer Dave to finish up talking with his
vet about cattle stifles before she can get on with the story.
> "Jay Gordon, starship Independence, nice to see you again,
>Princess," Jay said.
Tom: Why does Jay feel compelled to introduce himself to Marrissa?
Mike: Maybe he's just pretending these stories never happened.
Crow: Wish I could...
> "Drop the title, Jay," Marrissa replied.
Tom: Yeah, we all know how she hates fame and titles and stuff.
> "I was wondering if
>you would like to be my date for the Coronation Ball. I rather not go
>unescorted."
Voice: Let me get this straight... even Wonder Weenie there can get a date?
Tom: ... the heck?
Mike: Bitter editor.
Tom: Ah.
> "OK on two conditions," Jay replied. "One, your cousin doesn't
>give me any more titles, and two you don't wear that dress you were wearing
>earlier today."
Mike: AGH! Why must you make these disgusting mental pictures appear in
my mind, Ratliff?
> "That I can guarantee," Marrissa said. "I've found a much
>better dress that doesn't go near touching the floor."
Tom: Oh, the humanity! Have you at long last, Ratliff, no decency?
> "Then I will meet you at 1900 hours at your quarters, I assume
>you haven't moved?" Jay arranged.
Mike: She's only thirteen. She can't move out on her own.
> "Do you really think the Admiral would let me?" Marrissa
>responded. "I'll see you at 1900 hours then. Marrissa out."
>
> Just before 1900 hours Clara met Alexander at his quarters,
>"You look good in those Ambassadorial robes," Clara said.
Tom: (as Clara) Considering it makes you look like you're wearing Lego
blocks.
> "Personally I wish they would find something more comfortable
>for ceremonial occasions for Klingon Ambassadors," Alexander said. "It's
>almost enough for me to start cursing Marrissa for getting me the job."
> "You know the only thing that is keeping Marrissa from cursing
>her new position?" Clara stated.
Mike: (as Clara) The Royal Harem. She's been in there with them
for *hours* now.
> "What?" Alexander asked sharply.
> "She now has a level fourteen clearance,"
Crow: ... which enables her to review her Permanent Record.
> Clara replied. "Boy,
>that must be uncomfortable, I've seen you like this before but that was when
>you were practicing with Jay and he accidentally stabbed you with his
>bat'leth."
Tom: (as Alexander) "Accidentally"? Is *that* what he told you?
> "Don't worry give me a half an hour in this out fit and I'll be
>my usual cheery self," Alexander replied.
> "I hope so," Clara said. "Dancing and grouchiness do not mix."
Crow: Unless you're in a mosh pit.
>
> Meanwhile Marrissa had just gotten her pink ruffled dress on
>when the door chimed. Beverly answered it and said, "Marrissa, your date is
>here."
Mike: It's the 14th of April, 1910. Is that a problem?
Tom: Oh, that was the day William Howard Taft threw out the first pitch in
the Philadelphia Athletics - Washington Senators game, starting the
tradition of the President throwing out the first baseball of the
season.
Mike: Tom.
Tom: The Senators won 3-0.
Mike: Tom.
Tom: And 31 years later on April 14, Pete Rose was born.
Mike: Tom.
Tom: And on April 14th, 1967, Herman's Hermits went gold with the single
"There's A Kind of Hush."
Mike: Tom.
Tom: I'll behave.
Mike: Thank you.
> As Jay entered in his dress uniform, his face was blushing.
>"You show excellent taste, Marrissa." her father said.
Crow: (as Picard) He's positively *scrumptious*!
> "In dates or dress," Marrissa asked causing Jay to blush again.
> "Both actually," Jean-Luc said. "I was worried that you'd
>leave yourself open for the evening."
Mike: (as Picard) But, thankfully, you remembered to button up in front.
> "I'd never get to dance then," Marrissa replied. "No one my age
>in Starfleet is allowed to fraternize with me because they're all at least
>two ranks below me. And most others wouldn't dare dance with the heir to
>the throne.
Tom: (as Marrissa) There's not even a shallow twit who'd do anything for a
chance at political advancement anywhere on the planet.
> So I chose my own partner, who I couldn't find a reason for
>anyone to object or put two and two together to get scandal."
Mike: Two and two makes scandal?
Crow: Yeah, that was some of Andrew Wiles's earlier work.
> "You take good care of my daughter," Jean Luc Picard told Jay.
> "I will," Jay replied.
> "Oh and Ensign," the Admiral added.
Tom: (as Picard) Is your refrigerator running?
> "Don't let anyone cut in."
> As Marrissa and Jay left the room, Beverly spoke up, "Jean-Luc
>there is something I've been meaning to tell you and now seems like as good
>a time as ever."
> "What is Beverly?"
Mike: (as Alex Trebek) Ooh, I'm sorry. How much did you wager?
> "I'm pregnant," she replied
> Jean-Luc Picard was speechless for a moment then he replied,
Crow: (as Picard) It's not mine!
>"That is wonderful news.
Tom: (as Picard) My little sperms are still swimming! Woo hoo!
> I'm finally going to be a father for real.
Crow: Better not let Marrissa hear you say that...
Mike: (monotone) It makes me feel better than Cats. I want to feel it
again and again.
> If it
>wasn't for the fact that we have to attend a ball, I'd be tempted to take
>you out somewhere special to celebrate."
> "You can do that tomorrow," Beverly replied. "Alyssa has found
>a four star restaurant on the planet, that she thinks we would enjoy."
Crow: Alyssa... who?
Mike: Oh, that's Alyssa Ogawa. Her uncommon card in the premier edition
is a Biology Mission Specialist, and her rare First Contact card...
Tom: Mike, no ST:CCG in the theater!
> "OK, tomorrow we will dine out and I'll leave Marrissa in
>command," Jean-Luc said.
> "Why Marrissa?"
Crow: Ratliff. Complex. Enough said.
> "Do you actually think that any other person other than Data
>won't have a hang over tomorrow?"
Tom: Yes, booze helps all ambitious young Starfleet officers gain command.
This message brought to you by the booze council.
Mike: But synthehol doesn't leave you with a hangover!
Crow: See, it's funny because it's... (falters) teenage alcoholism...
>
>Chapter Thirteen
>
> The Ball was in full swing by the time the Admiral and Doctor
>arrived. The Enterprise Pops (as the combined quartets were referred to)
>with the Essex Royal Symphony Orchestra were playing 'By the Beautiful Blue
>Danube' by Johann Strauss, jr.
Tom: While the tuba player, highly confused, delves deep into the third
verse of Madonna's "Like a Virgin."
> Marrissa and Jay could be seen gaily waltzing
>across the floor. "Jean-Luc, lets show Marrissa how it is done," Doctor
>Beverly Picard said.
Mike: It's the return of the Dancin' Doctor!
> He took up her hand
Crow: He takes her hand... starts running downfield... he's at the 30, he's
blocked, there's nowhere to turn... he laterals to Szustakowski who
runs off the field, into the stands, and attacks the pretzel guy!
That's gotta hurt!
> and they began as a new song
>was picked up by the Orchestra, 'Waltz of the Snowflakes' by Tchaikovsky.
> "My compliments on the decorations," Jean-Luc said to his wife.
>"If I didn't know better I'd say you had taken the roof off my shuttle bay."
Tom: (as Beverly) We did. How long can you hold your breath?
> "Pay more attention to your dancing, Jean-Luc," Beverly replied.
>"You just stepped on to my foot."
>
> Later that evening when the orchestra was taking a break,
Mike: The partygoers stole their instruments and threw them out the
airlock, happily.
> the
>Admiral and Doctor where getting some refreshments. "So tell me more about
>how I did with the decorations," Beverly asked.
> "Oh, what, You really have done quite well," he replied,
>somewhat preoccupied.
> "A penny for your thoughts," Beverly asked.
Crow: (as Jean-Luc) I was just thinking about pennies.
> "Your news earlier got me thinking about Marrissa," he
>responded. "At first I was wondering what she would think about having a
>little brother or sister, having been an only child.
Mike: (as Jean-Luc) Then I realized... how much difference could having
one more person in her life to push around possibly make?
> Then I looked up and
>here she is, all grown up dancing across the floor with some young man."
> "I'd hardly consider 13 grown up and Jay's only 12," Beverly
>replied.
Tom: Suddenly Ratliff strikes Beverly down with a lightning bolt for
speaking heresy.
> "Yes, but Marrissa and I've been quite close and since you and I
>got back from our honeymoon, we've had none of the talks like we use to,"
>Jean-Luc said.
Crow: (as Jean-Luc) It's almost as if she doesn't think she needs
adult supervision all of a sudden.
> "She hasn't exactly had much time for anything since we got
>back," the Doctor responded. "But it will get back to normal soon, trust me
>Jean-Luc. I've got the voice of experience on my side."
Mike: (as Beverly) And the other voices in my head feel the same way too.
>
> "You dance quite well, Jay," Marrissa said as they got some more
>punch.
Mike: Oh, for that Hawaiian Punch freaky guy to come out and torment them...
> "Thank you, your highness," Jay replied.
> "You know I think I've finally found a phrase that annoys me
>more than being called Risa," Marrissa responded.
Crow: Being called the leaning tower of Risa.
> "Really, your highness?" Jay replied. "What would that be?"
> "Your highness, Sir Jay," Marrissa said.
> "OK, Marrissa, I won't call you Princess, your highness or
>Risa," Jay bargined. "If you don't call me Sir Jay."
Tom: Haven't they made this same bargain in about seven other fanfics?
Mike: Stephen's going to repeat the joke until we find it amusing.
> "Agreed." Marrissa replied.
> "Care to take bets on who Commander Riker ends up spending the
>evening with?" Jay asked.
[The trio sputters.]
All: What!!?
Crow: Dear Lord! We've wandered into a Melrose Place script!
>
> Meanwhile across the room the Queen was seated by her Prime
>Minister, trying to get him to dance with her when the music started up
>again.
Mike: Unfortunately, the next song to come up was "Pretty Fly For A
White Guy".
> "Come on William, Doctor Picard said you needed the exercise of this
>Ball, and I'd like you to dance with me. Stop being a bump on a log."
Crow: (as William) As you wish. I'll be a stick in the mud instead.
> "No, my Queen," William Lancaster replied. "It isn't right for
>the Prime Minister to dance with the Queen, much less date her."
> "Let's put it in simpler terms,"
Tom: (as Victoria) Eep. Opp. Ork. Ah-Ah.
> Victoria responded. "I'm not
>married. Your dancing with me. And I don't care if you are Prime Minister
>or anything else, you are my date, you are dancing with me."
Mike: It's a new concept. Dating by fiat.
Crow: Ah, the romance. (singing) Caaaan you feeeel the loooove
toniiiight....?
> As the band stuck up the Starship Waltz, a new composition by
>Data in its debut performance, everyone returned to the dance floor.
Tom: (as Data) I have entitled this piece, "Summertime reflections on an
IEEE-802.5 token ring".
Mike: They quickly left the dance floor when they discovered that Data
had written a 49 hour long piece performed solely by accordions.
> This
>Included the Queen and her reluctant Prime Minister.
>
> After the ball was over and before the Queen left for the
>surface, Marrissa pulled her over for a quick chat. "Victoria, I have a
>couple requests," Marrissa said.
Crow: It better not be that blasted Celine Dion song.
Mike: Freebird! Woooooo!
Tom: (as Marrissa) Number one: Abdicate. Number two...
> "What is that?" the Queen asked.
Mike: Freebird? It's the greatest song ever written! Freebird! Woooooo!
Crow: Stop it.
> "I don't want to become Queen, so I want you to get married as
>soon as possible," Marrissa replied. "At least before Clara and I get
>married."
Tom: I presume that the ceremony will be held in Hawaii?
> "That isn't something you can plan Marrissa," Victoria replied.
Mike: (as Victoria) It has to happen spontaneously, during sweeps months.
>"Especially with someone like my Prime Minister. However I will try to
>do so, just don't get married as quickly as you've risen though the ranks in
>Starfleet."
> "I doubt I'll be marrying any time soon," Marrissa replied.
Crow: (as Marrissa) At least not until I'm *fourteen*.
>"And one more thing, the Doctor is pregnant. I'd like if what ever sex the
>child she has is gets a title as soon as possible after it's birth.
Tom: What if the child turns out to be a trans-dimensional energy-being
from another spacetime continuum who's just using the Doctor as a
host body? Well? What then?
> If only
>to prevent some jealousy toward a certain older sister."
> "That sound reasonable," the Queen replied.
Mike: (as Glinn Gusat) Makes sense.
> "And if Wesley
>would care to stop by Essex, I've got a knighthood waiting for him."
Crow: Because y'know, you're only worth a damn if you have a title in
Ratliff's little world.
> "I'll tell him in my next letter," Marrissa responded.
Tom : Um, last I heard, he's in some other dimension. How exactly can
Marrissa write to him?
Mike: He still has an e-mail address.
Tom : Ah.
>
> The next morning was a morning of departures. First the Pope
>left in his Miranda class vessel, the Trinity. Then the Independence
>prepared to leave, first hailing the Enterprise.
> "Enterprise, Lieutenant Marrissa Picard in command," Marrissa
>responded.
> "I was hoping Admiral Picard would be in," Captain Melaine
>Morris said as she appeared on screen.
Mike: (as Marrissa) Give me a couple more stories.
> "Sorry, he took the Doctor down to the surface for a little
>shore-leave," Marrissa answered.
> "Are you sure we are taking about the same Jean-Luc Picard,"
>Morris asked.
Crow: (as Morris) I'm talking about the beatnik poet who cruises the bars
down the Jersey shore, around Asbury Park and Deal. Which Jean-Luc
Picard are you thinking of?
> "Hey, it's not every day that he learns that he is going to
>become a father," Marrissa justified. "Plus he's got 2 years of shore-leave
>saved up.
Tom: Of course, since his last couple shore leaves have involved him
getting kidnapped by Q, stuck on some weird treasure hunt with that
crazy archeology lady, chased through his ship by terrorists trying
to steal magic space particles, and generally getting beaten up
like an intragalactic punching bag, I'd forgive him if he decided
his 9-to-5 job was a wee bit more pleasant.
> If he doesn't take some of it Starfleet and Counselor Troi will
>get on his nerves until he does."
> "True my Counselor is getting on mine," Morris said. "Well give
>my regards to him and tell him thanks for the plum assignment."
Mike: Apparently Stephen is storing his punctuation marks up for the winter.
Crow: I can just see him with squirrel-cheeks full of semicolons now.
> "Just don't enjoy diplomacy too much," Marrissa replied.
Tom: Once again, Marrissa logic rears its ugly head... diplomacy is a
recreational activity, and command is to be enjoyed.
> "You
>will never get out of it."
> "You seem to have," Morris said.
> "Yes but I'm not a starship Captain yet," Marrissa said, "but
>I've heard that once Admiral Okie has found Captains he likes they don't
>leave his hands until they accept promotions."
Crow: (as Marrissa) Or should I say, his hands don't leave them, if you
know what I mean.
> "I'll keep that in mind," Morris said. "Oh and my second
>officer wants to know if you and his son had a good time last night.
>Apparently Jay came home dead tired."
Mike: (as Morris) And wearing a duck costume. We must ask him about it
sometime.
> "Yes, we did," Marrissa said. "Although I don't recommend
>dancing to midnight and then taking the bridge at 0800 the next mourning.
>I've discovered why my father drinks so much Earl Gray tea."
Crow: It's made with 50 percent tea leaves, and 50 percent model airplane
glue!
> "I will agree with that," Morris responded. "Well I better get
>going. I have 24 hours to get to Qari. Independence out."
Tom: (as Morris) We gotta help Fred and Barney down at the Qari.
>
>Epilogue
>
> "Marrissa, you are too busy for a girl your age," Admiral Picard
>said, entering his daughters room to find her working at her desk.
Crow: Hey, didn't we read this already?
> "Most girls my age aren't Starfleet Lieutenants or heirs to the
>throne of some planet," Marrissa responded.
Tom: Yeah! This was the start of the story! We did this one years ago!
> "True but even so you have to much work, especially paper work,"
>Jean-Luc Picard said. "And your room is simply not the place for it."
Crow: He's looped back on himself! Stephen Ratliff has become a Moebius
Strip of fandom!
> "Where else am I going to do it?" Marrissa asked.
> "How about your office, across the hall," her father replied.
>"And I'm sure your new Yeoman will reduce your load some what."
> "I never thought you would agree to it," Marrissa said of her
Mike: You know, that might be an exciting story, actually.
>request for an office.
> "I hadn't been in your room that much until last night when I
Mike: I mean, if, say, the Kids Crew and the Freedom Fighters had to swap
for a week or so.
Crow: Um... uh-huh.
Tom: Uh... hey... look, the epilogue!
>found you asleep writing a report at your desk," Jean-Luc Picard said.
>"After I put you to bed. I contacted Commander LaForge and pulled up a
>file you made titled Marrissa's perfect office.
Crow: It looks suspiciously like the Sears Tower....
> You'll find that Geordi
>followed your plans exactly or I will know why." The last was said in
>such a tone that meant that he would not be pleased with Geordi LaForge if
>there was any deviance from Marrissa's plans.
Tom: Yes, the crew lived in constant fear of Jean-Luc sending them off to
the gulags.
> "Thank you Dad," Marrissa said giving her father a hug. "And
>you definitely are right, I'm too busy. I think that I will leave this
>rewrite of my evaluation of Lieutenant Szustakowski until tomorrow. After
>all it's not needed for another month."
Crow: (as Marrissa) But afterward, I really *do* have to count all the
rivets in the bulkhead. Twice. And then I need to turn the
lights on and off exactly twenty-seven times, or I'll die.
> "In that case, would you care for a little sword practice?"
>Jean-Luc asked.
> "I'd be delighted, Dad." Marrissa replied.
Mike: Ack! Shame on you, Ratliff!
Crow: Been there...
Tom: Done that...
>
> Life returned to normal aboard the Enterprise and in the Picard
>family quarters. Until, the next problem that is. But that's another
>story ...
Mike: One that we've thankfully already read.
>
>The End.
>
>Appendix A
>A Map of Essex (area around the Capital)
>(to be available on my home page come Sept.)
Crow: Translation: Stephen's making his very own Civ II games now.
Tom: Which September? It's not on his web page.
Mike: I think this is the last place we should be complaining about delays.
Voice: Bite me.
>Appendex B :
>The Royal House of Essex
Crow: The Royal House of Pancakes of Essex.
>(to be available on my home page come Sept.)
Tom: (as Kirk) Let me guess. Tuesday!
>Appendex C
>Titles of Members of the Royal Family
Mike: To be available on my home page come September.
>
>Title Present Holder Previous Holder
Mike: Rats!
>Monarch, Queen Victoria I King George IV
>Defender of Essex,
>Head of State.
Crow: And "Ruler of the Universe" on the Royal House Pizza Parlor's
"Attack from Mars" pinball game.
>Prince(ss) of Marrissa Picard Stephen son of George IV
>Covington,
>Duke(Duchess) of
>Londonderry.
Tom: Batting .305 so far this season.
>Duke of Yorkshire Daniel Sutter Charles son of
> Edward I
> Charles,
> grandfather of Daniel
Mike: (singing to the tune of the "Davy Crockett Theme") Danielll... Daniel
Sutter... duke of the wild frontier!
>Marquise of Wessex Clara Sutter
Crow: Clara couldn't have a good title, so we offered her some canned goods
as a consolation prize.
>Duke (Duchess) of Mary Sussex Henry son of
>Greenwich Edward I
>Greenwich
>Earl Flores Martin Sussex George, biological
> father of Marrissa
>Duke of New Brittany Jean-Luc Picard vacant
Tom: (as "Daria"'s Brittany) Kev-ie! You mean this bald guy is my duke?
Eeewww!
>First Knight of the Jean-Luc Picard King George IV
>Realm
>Those knighted :
> Jean-Luc Picard, Rear Admiral, currently commanding USS
> Enterprise
Mike: The dreaded Rear Admiral!
> William T. Riker, Commander, first officer, USS Enterprise
Crow: And watcher of alien autopsies.
> Data, Lieutenant Commander, second officer, USS Enterprise
Tom: (as Data) Can I sing something from Gilbert and Sullivan now?
Mike: (as Picard) That won't be necessary.
> Geordi LaForge, Lieutenant Commander, Cheif Engineer, USS
> Enterprise
Mike: (as Perry White) Don't call me "cheif"!
> Worf, son of Mog, Lieutenant Commander, Cheif of Security, USS
> Enterprise
Crow: It's good that he mentioned that Worf was the son of Mog... otherwise
we might confuse him with all the other Worfs hanging around this
story.
Tom: Isn't he supposed to be son of Martok now actually?
> Jay Gordon, Ensign, Commanding Officer, Kid's Crew USS
> Independence
>
>Appendex D:
>Current Kids Crews.
Crow: Not sure where the possessive goes? Then don't use one at all!
>
>USS Enterprise age
>Commanding Officer Lieutenant Marrissa Picard 13
Tom: So how long until "Dark Marrissa"?
>First Officer Ensign Clara Sutter 11
>Second Officer Alexander Rozhenko 11
>Chief of Operations Alexander Rozhenko 11
>Chief of Security Patterson Supra 9
Mike: The least-seen character in "For Better or For Worse."
>Chief Engineer Shayna Sachs 11
>Chief CONN Officer Heather Cowhig 16
Crow: You have to imagine Heather regrets being born into her family.
Tom: You know, I think I'd remember seeing a 16 year old in this story.
>USS Independence age
>Commanding Officer Ensign Jay Gordon 12
>First Officer Thak 10
Mike: (as Brak) If Thak doesn't get his Vitamin C, Thak *can't work*!
>Second Officer Tira Nomel 9
>Chief Engineer Tira Nomel 9
Crow: But that's not all! Tira Nomel also slices, dices and makes three
varieties of julienne fries! Now how much would you pay?
>Chief of Security Sirek 13
>Chief of Operations Brian (last name unknown) 8
Tom: Stephen, as the author, you're allowed to make up a last name
for the characters.
>Chief CONN Officer Robert Yomato 7
[Mike and the bots stand up.]
Mike: You say "Yo-MAY-to," I say "Yo-MAH-to"....
Bots: Let's call the whole thing off!
[They exit the theater.]
[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]
[SOL]
[Mike, Tom and Crow are standing around a battered looking computer,
talking animatedly.]
Mike: Okay, is everyone clear on the plan?
Crow: I guess...
Tom: Do you really think this will work?
Mike: Tom, it's our only hope.
[The Mads light begins to flash.]
Mike: Okay, everyone, here we go. Take your places.
[Mike takes a deep breath and reaches over and taps the light.]
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl, Observer and Professor Bobo gaze intently at the screen.]
Pearl: Okay, Joe Bob. Spill it.
Bobo: Yes, did the old-time Ratliff fic break you or what?
Pearl: [harshly] Bobo, *I* get to find out whether or not they've
finally lost it! [normal] Well, Mikey? How are you doing?
[SOL]
Mike: Okay, I guess.
Crow: I'd forgotten how badly written those early Ratliffs were.
Tom : The obsession with titles...
Mike: The creative spelling...
Crow: The way everyone is a diplomat...
Tom : The bizarre hair-ribboned aliens...
Mike: The appendices full of characters who barely appeared in
the story...
Crow: The royalty, and their obsession with not being royalty...
Tom : The absolute stupidity of bad guys when they capture
someone... [Tom breaks into sobs.]
Crow: The never... ending... conferences... [He sobs too.]
Mike: Let's face it, Pearl. It was horrible! No mas! No mas!
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl is grinning from ear to ear. Bobo is passing out glasses
while Observer is opening a bottle of champagne.]
Pearl: So, Nelson. It finally happened. You've been broken!
I knew! I knew that one day you'd succumb to the evil
that is Stephen Ratliff!
Bobo: [chanting] We broke Mike's mind! We broke Mike's mind!
Pearl: That's it then. Brain Guy! Let's send this puppy
to everyone! World conquest is mine!
[SOL]
[Tom and Crow are still crying.]
Mike: I don't think that'll work.
[Castle Forrester]
[The celebration stops as all three turn to stare at the screen.]
Pearl: What did you say?
[SOL]
Mike: I said it won't work. The world won't be conquered.
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: Mike, I appreciate your last, feeble effort at resistance,
but pleeeeeze. It's over. Unless you have some last gasp
effort to save the world, that is.
[SOL]
Mike: The world doesn't need saving. And it's all because of this!
[He gestures to the computer.]
[Castle Forrester]
[The mads sneer at Mike.]
Pearl: What are you planning to do? Hack into NORAD and start a game
of Global Thermonuclear War?
[They start snickering.]
Observer: Or create a fantasy woman using the computer and a Barbie doll?
[They laugh louder.]
Bobo: Or use it to start your own Internet company, offer up an IPO, get
rich and then move to the Bahamas as your company falters?
[Pearl and Observer turn to stare at Bobo.]
[SOL]
Mike: Nope. I'm just going to do this.
[Mike walks to the keyboard, types a few characters, and hits the enter
key with a flourish.]
[Castle Forrester]
Observer: Ooooh! We're scared!
Pearl: Mike, if you're trying to delete the Ratliff archive, don't bother.
I have backup copies.
[SOL]
[The bots have stopped crying and now stand beside Mike.]
Mike: Oh, I'm afraid my plans aren't that elaborate. I'm simply using
a search engine.
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: Great. You've mastered Webcrawler. Pardon me, Mike, but I have a
world to conquer....
[SOL]
Mike: Here we go. "Ratliff Fanclubs"... 10,662 entries.
[Castle Forrester]
[The Mads stare incredulously.]
Pearl: What?
Observer: That's simply not possible....
Pearl: He sucks!
Bobo: His stories are horrible!
Observer: Absolutely ghastly!
All: How can *HE* have fans?!
[SOL]
Mike: [Shrugs] Well, *we* may hate him, and *you* may hate
him, but Stephen's the biggest thing in entertainment
these days.
Crow: Yeah, he even collaborated with Andrew Lloyd Webber!
Tom : He's huge, Pearl. Huge!
[Mike and Crow stare at Tom.]
Tom : Sorry. Reflex action.
Mike: Anyway, while you've been forcing us to read Stephen's
little stories, the rest of the world has already read
them and loved them!
Crow: Look at these web page titles... "Hope and Humanity:
The Works of Stephen Ratliff."
Tom : "A Legend Walks Among Us: A Tribute To Stephen Ratliff."
Mike: "The Nobel Committee was Beaten by a Bunch of Kids!
How S.B. Ratliff Won Five Nobel Prizes for Literature."
Tom : "The Magic of Marrissa!" "Throwaway Hunters!"
Mike: www.marrissaromance.com!
Tom : www.marrissafanfic.com!
Crow: "Hot Lezbo Marrissa Action!"
Mike: Crow!
Crow: But it got five stars from the Mining Company!
Mike: Look, Pearl. We may hate Marrissa, but to the
rest of the world, she's an icon to be revered.
Tom : Sending out an unknown Marrissa story would be
cause for celebration, not the end of the world.
Crow: Maybe if you got out of the Castle a little more often,
you'd know that.
Mike: So you see, your plan just won't work.
[Castle Forrester]
[The Mads look shaken.]
Pearl: How can this be? They like him? They really *like* him?
Bobo: Lawgiver, do you want to sit down...?
Observer: I'll get you a hot toddy....
Pearl: No. [louder] No! [normal] No, Art's right. I've been
cooped up in here too long. After all, if I can't
even tell what people like and don't like any more...
[She shakes her head.] I need a vacation. Bobo!
Brain Guy! Pack the bags! We're going to Tahoe!
Mike? I trust that you can hold down the fort for
a while?
[SOL]
Mike: Sure thing, Mrs. F. We need to do some spring cleaning
anyway. You just go ahead and enjoy yourself!
[Castle Forrester]
[Bobo, Pearl and Observer are now laden with bags and
wearing Hawaiian shirts.]
Pearl: Thanks, Mike. After I get back in touch with the
common folk, I'll be back to resume my experiements!
Later! Brain Guy? If you'll do the honors?
[The Observer's sound effect is heard, and the Mads vanish,
leaving behind an empty Castle Forrester.]
[SOL]
[The trio looks anxiously at the view screen.]
Tom : They're gone!
Crow: Quick Mike, delete that damn story!
Mike: I'm trying... Okay, one more and... done!
That's every copy on the net!
Crow: Whew.
Tom : Thank goodness.
Crow: I can't believe Pearl fell for that.
Tom : Yeah. "The whole world's in love with Ratliff."
Good one, Mike.
Mike: Well, I do get flashes of inspiration from time to time.
Crow: Yeah, if Pearl had bothered to check those webpages,
she'd have seen that all of them were just "Dawson's Creek"
sites that we'd renamed.
Tom : By the way, Mike? Shouldn't you be renaming them back?
Mike: Nah. They'll all be "Felicity" sites in a few weeks anyway.
Still, I'd better make sure that all those Royal Mess stories
are gone.... "Royal Mess 1: No match found."... "Royal Mess 2:
No match found." We did it!
Crow: Pearl nearly got us with that one.
Tom : Yep.
Mike: Well, guys. We don't have to worry about that anymore.
We've finished a Ratliff story that hung over our head
for years. We've saved the world, and Pearl's out of
our hair for a few weeks until she realizes that we
conned her. Not bad for a day's work, huh? Now, what
do you say we go get some ice cream sodas, huh?
Crow: Sure thing!
Tom : Let's go!
[Mike wraps his arms around the bots, and they exit the
right side of the bridge, laughing. Cambot pans down to
the computer that is left unattended on the control panel
and zooms in as the scene fades to...]
[Closing credits]
"A ROYAL MESS, PART TWO" BY: Stephen Ratliff
MiSTING BY: David Hines (dhines@kruncher.ptloma.edu), co-editor;
Mighty Jack (mityjack@net.bluemoon.net), co-editor;
Matt Blackwell (mblackwl@ix.netcom.com), co-signer;
Joseph Nebus (nebusj@rpi.edu), Coca-Cola drinker; and
Tom Salyers (tsalyers@dimensional.com), who likes co-eds.
ADDITIONAL MATERIAL BY: Bill Livingston (bill@Traveller.COM)
MiSTING DIBS LIST MAINTAINED BY: Michael Neylon
COTTON GIN BY: Eli Whitney
NOTHING GETS BY: You, does it?
I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANNA: Zigazagah!
THANKS: to MiSTies, MuSTies, the teachers of America, Martin Van Buren,
Erika Flores, and anybody who'll lend me a fiver till payday.
ALSO, THANKS TO SPECIAL GUEST STARS: Drew Carey, Ryan Stiles, Colin Mochrie,
Greg Proops and Wayne Brady as themselves. Additional music by Laura Hall.
Star Trek: The Next Generation and all related characters and situations
are trademarks of and (c) Viacom. All rights reserved. Resistance is
Futile, etc, etc, etc.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are
trademarks of and (c) Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. A division of
Oseega Hot Fish Restaurants, Ltd.
Stephen Ratliff is (c) 1977, Mr. & Mrs. Ratliff; and (c) 1999, Radford
University. All rights reserved. Notice: Unauthorized removal of Stephen
Ratliff's chassis may void warranty. See local authorized dealer for
further details.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material and characters is for
entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights
or trademarks held by others is intended or should be inferred.
No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are or
should be implied. So chill, Holmes.
When in the Delta Quadrant, be sure to visit scenic Rock City.
Keep circulating the posts.
[The closing credits are suddenly replaced with a close-up of Mike's
computer screen. A single window is open. It reads...]
Searching...
Searching...
Search Complete. 1 Item found.
Download "Royalmess_part3.txt"? (Y/N)?
[Maniacal laughter fills the bridge as ghostly letters appear on the
screen.]
The End
?
[The final guitar chord plays.]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
> "And I'm eternally grateful that I'm not Queen," Marrissa said.
>"It's a hindrance to my career."