💾 Archived View for tilde.club › ~anthonyg › files › humor › mstings › horses.txt captured on 2022-07-16 at 15:42:26.

View Raw

More Information

-=-=-=-=-=-=-



Stephen Ratliff's "All The King's Horses" was MSTed by:

Mighty Jack (editor)        : mityjack@net.bluemoon.net
Joseph Nebus                : nebusj@rpi.edu
Chris "Frobozz" Angelini    : frobozz@eyrie.org
Kevin Gowen                 : kgowen@efn.org
Steven "Badger" Savage      : badger@infinet.com

Contributing writers: Ian Gowen
                      Stephen Ratliff


[Season Nine opening sequence]

[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]

[SOL]

[Mike, Tom and Crow are standing behind the control panel at their usual
 places.]

TOM SERVO: Hey gang!  Strap yourselves into your seats and hold on tight,
           'cause it's our *SEASON FINALE*, tonight on MST!  3!  K!

MIKE: That's right, folks, and just like every other network on the 
      planet, we've got an oh-so-very special episode lined up for you 
      just to ease the pain of being stuck with nothing but reruns to 
      watch for the next few months!  It's so filled with surprises,
      twists and turns that you'd have to be a drooling *moron* to even
      *THINK* about missing it!

CROW: Shocking secrets revealed!  You won't believe who turns out to be 
      a hermaphrodite on today's episode!

MIKE: Another third-world country detonates a nuclear device!  Which 
      one?  Stay tuned and find out!

TOM SERVO: The satellite explodes, and one of us won't survive to be on
           the show next season!  Don't miss it!

CROW: An extra-special guest star is caught in bed with Mike... and you
      won't *believe* it when you find out what species she is!

MIKE: Gypsy gets married in a must-see five hour television event!

TOM SERVO: Joel Robinson returns to the Satellite of Love in a tearful
           reunion the whole family will want to see!

CROW: The results of the cancer test come in!  And the paternity test,
      too!

MIKE: One of the nanites loses her virginity and learns a hard lesson
      about life and love!

TOM SERVO: Mike Nelson's past comes back to haunt him!  How?  Stay tuned
           and find out!

CROW: A serial killer stalks the satellite, and he's got his sights set
      on his next victim!  We're going to need *all* of our wits to
      survive this one!

MIKE: Crow joins a cult, forcing Tom and me to kidnap and deprogram him 
      in a life-affirming triumph of the human spirit!

TOM SERVO: Featuring scenes from previous episodes of MST3K to bring
           back fond memories of how many hours you've wasted in front
           of the TV!

CROW: With special musical guest, Pearl Jam!

MIKE: Plus, the moment that you've all been waiting for... the moment
      when we answer the question...

ALL: WHO *IS* ERIC CARTMAN'S MOTHER?!?

[The commercial sign light starts flashing.]

TOM SERVO: All this, and much, much more on tonight's action-packed 
           episode of MST!  3!  K!

MIKE: Pay close attention now, or we'll never get to charge this much
      for ad space ever again!  [Mike hits the commercial sign light.]

[Commercials.]

[SOL]

[Mike, Tom and Crow are still at their usual places.]

CROW: Expect the unexpected!!!

MIKE: Believe the unbelievable!!!

TOM SERVO: As we conceive the inconceivable right here on MST!  3!  K!
           [The Mads light turns on.]  We'll be right back with our
           *SEASON FINALE EXTRAVAGANZA* right after these words from our
           very own Pearl Forrester!

[Mike hits the Mads light.]

[Castle Forrester]

[Pearl, Bobo and Observer are all sitting on a comfy couch in front of
 a TV set that is turned on.  Pearl puts down the bowl of popcorn that 
 she's holding and turns toward the camera, putting her finger up to her 
 lips.]

PEARL: Shhh!  [loudly whispering]  Keep it down up there, will ya?  We're
       watching the last episode of Seinfeld!  [Pearl turns back to the 
       TV, picks up the bowl of popcorn and starts eating.]

[SOL]

MIKE [confused]: Huh?!

CROW: Okay.  Let me get this straight, Mike... you put our dumpy little 
      show's season finale up against the last episode of *Seinfeld*?!  
      What the *hell* were you *THINKING*?!?  You stupid, STUPID MAN!!!

MIKE: All right, all right, geez, I'm sorry!  You know, if we had that
      subscription to TV Guide like I wanted, this never would have
      happened!  But noooo... *you* guys wouldn't help pay to get it
      delivered up here...

[Tom shakes his head and sighs in frustration as Gypsy enters from stage
 left.]

GYPSY: Hey guys, I just heard from the network... they're running paid
       programming in our time slot.

TOM SERVO [disgusted]: Oh, great!  Just great!  Hear that, Nelson?  See
                       what you've done to us?!

MIKE: Guys, guys, hold on a second!  Think about it... nobody's watching 
      us, right?   So we can do whatever we want for the next hour, and 
      nobody'll ever know the difference!  [Mike leans close to the bots
      for a conspiratorial whisper]  Not even Pearl!

[Castle Forrester]

[Pearl and Bobo are still on the couch, but Observer is approaching the
 camera.]

OBSERVER: Well, actually Michael, that's not precisely true.  You see,
          Pearl heard about your little "must see" television event, and
          she wanted to make sure we sent you an experiment that suited 
          the occasion.  She tells me that it was written by award-winning, 
          best-selling fanfic writer Stephen Ratliff, and it's a 
          sensitive, heart-warming story about a young woman just 
          beginning to come of age and how she learns to deal with the 
          pressing questions and serious issues that all teenagers face 
          as they grow up.  You'll laugh, you'll cry, and you just might 
          learn a little something about yourselves... though certainly 
          not as much as *I* already know about your hopelessly inferior 
          species.  This fanfic has not yet been rated.  And, just so you 
          know, Pearl *is* taping the experiment while she watches her
          program, so she *will* know if you're not in that theater!  Oh, 
          and she said to tell you: "Don't touch that dial... *we* will 
          control the horizontal and the vertical!"  Whatever *that* means.
          Oh well.  Enjoy!

[Cue sound as Observer uses that brain voodoo that he do so well to send
 the fanfic up to the satellite.]

[SOL]

[Mike is writing quickly on a piece of paper on the control panel in 
 front of him as Tom looks on.  Crow and Gypsy are absent.]

MIKE [reciting as he writes]: "I, Michael Nelson, fearing for my life
     and sanity, do hereby make the following revisions to my last will
     and testament...."  Tom, how do you spell "codicil"?

[Lights flash, buzzers buzz and pandemonium erupts.]

MIKE: AAAH!  Too late!  WE'VE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!!!  Magic Voice, if we
      don't get out alive, tell my mom I love her!

[..6..]
[..5..]
[..4..]
[..3..]
[..2..]
[..1..]

[Inside the theater]

[Mike carries Tom to his seat.  Crow is still absent.]
          
MIKE: Maybe we should have had the show broadcast over the Internet.
TOM SERVO: Too late for that now.

>From sratliff@runet.edu Wed May 20 18:55:54 1998
>Received: from rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu (rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu >[137.45.192.101]) by net.bluemoon.net 

TOM SERVO [singing]: Bluuuuuuuueee Moooooooooooooon...
MIKE [singing]: Blue Blue Blue Blue Mooooooooooooon...

>                                      (8.8.7/8.8.5) with ESMTP id WAA02201 >for <mityjack@net.bluemoon.net>; Tue, 2 Sep 1997 22:12:11 -0400 (EDT)

MIKE [looking around]: All right, where's Crow?
TOM SERVO: Watching the last episode of Seinfeld.
MIKE: *sigh* [raising his voice] Gypsy, get Crow in here, would you please?
GYPSY [offscreen]: Will do!

>Received: (from sratliff@localhost) by rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu >(8.8.7/8.7.5) id WAA04255 for mityjack@net.bluemoon.net; 

TOM SERVO: Isn't that the ISP that moonlights as a detective agency?

>                                                         Tue, 2 Sep 1997 >22:11:29 -0400 (EDT)
>Message-Id: <199709030211.WAA04255@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu>

CROW: [offscreen] Okay, okay, I'm going!  [Crow enters the theater and sits
      down]  Jeez, now I'll *never* know which one of the fifteen published
      endings they used....
MIKE: Watch the reruns, Crow.  We need all the help we can get in here.
CROW: Why?  What did Pearl send us this time?

>From: Stephen Ratliff <sratliff@runet.edu>
>Subject: All The King's Horses

CROW [glumly]: I *had* to ask...

>To: mityjack@net.bluemoon.net (Mighty Jack)

TOM SERVO: Ecchh!  *shudders violently*
MIKE: What?  What's the matter?
CROW: We'll explain later.

>Date: Tue, 2 Sep 1997 22:11:29 -0400 (EDT)
>In-Reply-To: <Pine.OSF.3.951MOON.970902172749.17581A->100000@net.bluemoon.net> from "Mighty Jack" at Sep 2, 97 05:31:20 pm
>X-Mailer: ELM [version 2.4 PL24]
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

MIKE [singsong]: Transfer encoding...
ALL: SEVEN BITS!!!

>
>Title: All the King's Horses
    
CROW: ...and all the king's men, couldn't make Steve a decent writer
      again.
TOM SERVO: What do you mean, "again"?

>Author: Stephen Ratliff (sratliff@runet.edu)
>Series: TNG Marrissa Stories #3
>Part: NEW 1/?
>
>by Stephen Ratliff
>
>Author's Notes
    
MIKE [as Ratliff]: Note to myself: I really shouldn't do this!

>
>        Well ladies and gentlemen, 
    
TOM SERVO: And robots.

>                                   it's time for yet another Marrissa
>Story.  
    
MIKE [as Ratliff]: Unless my demands are immediately met.

>        This one is set between "Battle for Bajor" and "Cadet Cruise."
    
TOM SERVO: So he can rewrite history.   
CROW:	Retcon!  Retcon!

>It's written in response to several complaints I've received in the
>almost four years since I posted the original versions of those works.
    
MIKE [as Ratliff]: I won't reprint what they actually said because
                   there's children on this newsgroup.

>        Four years, it's been long time.  
    
CROW [muttering]: Tell us about it...
TOM SERVO: It's been long, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.

>                                          I first started "Enterprized"
>in study-hall in March of 1993.  
    
TOM SERVO: More homework could have prevented this tragedy.

>                                 When I arrived at Radford University, 
    
MIKE [as Ratliff}: ... I couldn't figure out why people kept pointing at
                   me and snickering.

>                                                                       I
>discovered alt.startrek.creative.  

CROW: ... and I claimed it in the name of Spain!

>                                   I started posting "Enterprized" on
>November of 1993.  
    
TOM SERVO: Truly a date that will live in infamy.

>                   "A Gul's Revenge," which later became "Battle for
>Bajor," 
    
MIKE: ... meaning we had to sit through it *twice*. [shudders]

>        began posting in February of 1994.  Since then I've put out an
>average of three works every year. (Six in the past year.)
    
CROW: Nineteen since a week ago Thursday!
TOM SERVO: Three hundred just today!
MIKE: Two thousand and thirty-eight in the last five minutes!

>
>        This will be my fifteenth work, beginning what I hope is a
>productive fifth and finial year at Radford University.  
    
CROW:	Ah, the American college system...  where a four-year degree only
      takes five or six to achieve!    
TOM SERVO: Pulling out the ol' Websters here... his fifth year is a 
           foliated ornament on the upper extremity of a piece of Gothic
           architecture?!

>                                                         There are more
>Marrissa Stories out there.  
    
MIKE: Right now, Agents Mulder and Scully are retching into their shoes.    
CROW: Believe you me, those stories are *really* "out there".

>                             I've got a list of ideas pages long, 
    
TOM SERVO: Don't threaten us like that, Ratliff.
MIKE: Looks like some other Stephen out there just came down with
      Dark Tower syndrome.

>                                                                  and
>occasionally a new idea will come, like "The Captain and the Doctor,"
>that just flows out without stopping.
    
CROW: He just *had* to try those Olestra potato chips.    
TOM SERVO: I always thought his stories were a kind of mental diarrhea.
           Now we have proof!

>        "All the King's Horses" uses many references to thoroughbred
>horse racing, in particular the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the
>Belmont Stakes.  
    
MIKE: Oh, and Humpty Dumpty.
CROW: Mike?  Why would *anyone* write a Star Trek story about *horse
      racing*?!
TOM SERVO: It's Ratliff, Crow.  Don't expect it to make sense.

>                 While the form of the races have maintained the same
>shape, 
    
CROW: Could it be that Ratliff actually knows something about what he's
      writing about this time?
TOM SERVO: We'll see.

>       some rules have been bent for the purpose of storytelling.  
    
MIKE: For instance, in reality, very few jockeys use spray-cheese for
      helmets.

>                                                                   No
>trainer in his or her right mind would let an untried jockey race their
>horse in a Triple Crown race, 
    
TOM SERVO: ... but I'm sure Steve will get around this inconvenient fact
           by inventing a disease that kills only horse jockeys over the
           age of 15.
CROW: Don't give him any ideas.

>                              but fortunately, mine is not left-handed.
>:)
    
MIKE: A subtle Princess Bride reference or a lame joke?  You make the call.
TOM SERVO: Well, at least he spelled the smiley right.

>
>Stephen Ratliff.
    
CROW: aka The Evil Scourge of Usenet.

>
>Some pronunciations
>
>Since this story is set in France, 
    
MIKE [as Ratliff]: I can make up all sorts of stuff in the hopes that my
                   mostly American audience won't know I'm blowing smoke.
CROW: Poor France... first Hitler invades them, and now this!
TOM SERVO: Do you think Ratliff is considered a comic genius in France?

>                                   some names are pronounced differently
>that they are else where.  The following is a short guide.
    
MIKE: It's just a little service for those of you who like to read their 
      Ratliff stories out loud.

>                Robert          RO-ber
    
CROW: Oooh, I remember the Ro-bears, from the "ThunderCats" cartoon.

>                Boucher BOO-shay
    
MIKE: Shay... y'ever jusht... walk into a fanficshion and jusht... shee
      pink elephantsh everywhere?

>
>
    
TOM SERVO: *snicker* Gee thanks, Steve!  Our understanding of the 
           subtle complexities of the French language has increased
           dramatically thanks to this marvelously comprehensive
           pronunciation guide.
MIKE: Here's a few other French pronunciations you should know...
CROW: Ratliff    PAIN-ful
TOM SERVO: Marrissa    EE-go-tist
MIKE: Pearl Forrester    VISH-us

>Prologue
    
CROW:	PRO-log.
MIKE:	Enough, Crow, enough.    
TOM SERVO: And our wild ride into another reality begins....

>
>        Rene was under the Oak tree behind the Picard Family vineyard.
>He was looking for his uncle's shuttle.  
    
MIKE: Slowly he aimed the antiaircraft gun....

>                                         Rene looked forward to his
>Uncle Jean-Luc's visit.  
    
CROW: His sharpest scalpel was ready and his dog had given him explicit
      instructions on how to dispose of the body.
MIKE: Getting dark a little early, Crow?    
CROW: I'm beating the rush.

>                         It had been nearly three and a half years since
>the Captain of the Enterprise had set foot in his boyhood home.
    
TOM SERVO: But today he was going to find out if they really meant it
           when they said "And STAY out!".
           
>        At the time Rene had been a young boy of twelve.  
    
CROW: Now he was an elderly woman of six.

>                                                          It was the
>first time he had met his Uncle, the famous Captain of the Enterprise, a
>man he had idolized.  Now he was a youth of sixteen.  
    
MIKE: What, did Picard fall into a time warp or something?

>                                                      He had gained
>nearly a half a foot in height.  
    
CROW: And about three feet in depth.    
TOM SERVO: Isn't France kind of committed to the metric system at this
           point?    
MIKE: Well, Star Trek switches back and forth all the time, so why not
      Ratliff?

>                                 His hair had darkened somewhat from the
>blond of his childhood.
    
CROW: His voice sounded like breaking glass and his pimples made him look
      less than human.

>        While Rene still wished for a career in Star Fleet, he had other
>interests now.  
    
TOM SERVO: Like not getting instantly killed by the spacetime phenomenon
           of the week.

>                He had a job as an exercise rider at the local stables.
    
MIKE: So the little technophile from the series plays with horses now?

>Rene also had a steady girl friend.  He blushed, as he remembered their
>last date.
    
CROW [as Rene]: How am I ever going to explain to her why I started
                shouting "Equus!" and stabbed the horses in the eyes?!

>        He had heard that his uncle was bringing his new adopted
>daughter to see his home.  Rene wondered what this Marrissa would look
>like.  
    
TOM SERVO: Soon, her face would be permanently scarred on his memory.

>       He doubted that she wasn't human, 
    
MIKE: ... although that would explain some things.

>                                         although the name did sound
>like something a Betaziod would use.  
    
CROW: "Marrissa" was literally the Betazed word for "Duct Tape".

>                                      All he really knew was that she
>was about twelve years old.
    
MIKE: And she came from the Village of the Damned.

>        Would she have black hair and green eyes like his Isabelle?  Or
>would she be a blonde with blue eyes.  
    
CROW: Or would she have no physical attributes whatsoever?    
TOM SERVO: Actually, those were the only two options he could think of.

>                                       Well he'd soon find out, as Rene
>spied the shuttlecraft approaching the vineyard.  
    
MIKE: ... as it began its strafing run.

>                                                  Uncle Jean-Luc would
>probably park near town and walk, but that wouldn't stop Rene from
>rushing to tell his parents.
    
CROW [as Rene]: HEY MOM, HERE COMES OL' CHROME-DOME!!

>
>
>Chapter One
>Day One
    
TOM SERVO: Food supplies low.  Morale remains high, but our expedition
           will have to resort to cannibalism by the end of tomorrow.

>
>        Captain Picard stepped out of the shuttle.  

CROW: ... and plummeted face first into the mud ten feet below.
MIKE [as Picard, grumbling]: I have *got* to get that altimeter fixed....

>                                                    When Marrissa had
>suggested the front door, he just couldn't resist parking the shuttle as
>close as possible to the front gate.  
    
CROW: Which, unfortunately, now hung off of the nose of the shuttle.

>                                      Jean-Luc had dreamed about that
>when he was little.  
    
TOM SERVO: As a child, Picard's dreams were small.  Petty.  The stuff
           of which a reform school lifer was made.

>                     Of course he was a famous Star Fleet captain
>returning from defending the Federation from some vile enemy, not
>bringing his newly adopted daughter home to see the family.
    
MIKE: The difference being...?

>        Marrissa was hiding behind him.  It probably was a good idea.

CROW: Picard's brother was a good shot and Marrissa needed a human shield.

>From out of the house came Robert Picard.  
    
TOM SERVO: Oh, he's the best character on Voyager.
MIKE: Which is like being the best TV series produced by Glen A. Larson.

>                                           Jean-Luc was glad Marrissa
>didn't know French as Robert's language was not exactly polite.
    
CROW [as Robert]: Pardon my French, Jean-Luc, but you're an... MMPH!
MIKE [with his hand clamped on Crow's mouth]: Don't finish that, Crow.

>        Finally Robert noticed Captain Picard with Marrissa clinging
>behind him. 
    
TOM SERVO: Riding his coattails as usual.

>             "Oh it's you Jean- Luc," he said.
    
CROW [as Robert]: I thought you were *Dale*!

>        "You sound disappointed," Jean-Luc remarked.
    
MIKE [as Robert]: You're here to beat me up in the vineyard again,
                  aren't you?

>        "I was looking forward to yelling at the shuttle's pilot, but I
>see you drove yourself," Robert said 
    
CROW [as Robert]: Now I'll just have to punch some babies or something.

>                                     as his son and wife came out.
>Marie was carrying her nine-month-old daughter.
>        "I'll move the shuttle later," Jean-Luc said.  
    
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Now that I've needlessly annoyed you, I can park the
                    shuttle where it should have gone in the first place.    
CROW [as PA voice from Airplane]: The white zone is for loading and
                                  unloading of passengers only.

>                                                       "May I introduce
>my daughter, Marrissa?  
    
MIKE: Uh oh... crash positions, everybody!  Ratliff is introducing people!
      This is *not* a drill! [Tom and Crow quickly duck down low in their
      seats as Mike bends over with his arms wrapped around his head.]

>                        Marrissa this is your uncle Robert; his wife
>Marie, the best cook in France; 
    
TOM SERVO [muffled]: Best, after Chef Boy-Ar-Dee, of course.

>                                your nephew Rene; 
    
MIKE [muffled by his arms]: He's named after a nose.

>                                                  and in Marie's arms is
>little Theresa."
    
CROW [muffled]: The best diaper filler in France.

>        "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marrissa," Marie said.  
    
MIKE [muffled by his arms]: That's what they *all* say at first....

>                                                              "You must
>be tired after your long journey."
    
TOM SERVO [peeking up]: Wait a minute... it's over?  Already?  Hey, that 
                        wasn't so bad! 
[Everyone emerges from cover.]
CROW: Maybe someone down at Radford heard our screams and had mercy on us?

>        "Yeah," Marrissa responded.  "He told me to take the helm for a
>couple hours and slept for eight."
    
MIKE [as Marrissa]: In the free time I used my shuttle and the leftovers
                    from dinner to conquer four planets.

>        "She was supposed to wake me," Jean-Luc replied to the unspoken
>question.
    
MIKE [as Picard]: But I induge her cute pranks like ignoring my commands
                  and doing dangerous piloting stunts because she's so
                  darling!    
TOM SERVO: He's lucky she didn't push him out the airlock and go off to 
           start another war.

>        "In any case, perhaps you'd like to see you see your room,"
>Marie responded.  
    
CROW: Marie's stuttering habit always showed up at the worst times.    
MIKE [as Marie]: Don't mind what looks like the lock, door brace, and
                 steel bars outside the room.  They don't really work even
                 when we shut them all.

>                  "If I know Robert and Jean-Luc, they will want to
>check the wines before they come in."
    
TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: I'll just get started on this bottle right here.
                         Just to be safe, I'd better taste test the whole
                         thing....

>        Marrissa picked up her suitcase and followed Marie into the
>house, Rene on her tail.
    
CROW: [imitates a cat screeching in pain]
MIKE [as Rene]: Sorry, Marrissa.  Didn't see your tail there.

>
>        The room was larger than any bedroom Marrissa had ever seen.
>The walls were a pale pink with walnut paneled wainscot.  There was a
>matching dresser and mirror.  
    
CROW: They tried to find more girly interior decorating, but failed.    
TOM SERVO: You know, sometimes I think that if Ratliff gave up writing
           to pursue his dream of being an interior decorator we might
           *all* be a little happier.

>                              But what had Marrissa's attention was the
>big bed with a white lacy canopy.  She'd never seen such a bed.  
    
MIKE [as commercial announcer]: Secretly, Marie replaced the pea under
                                Marrissa's mattress with rich, dark
                                Folger's Crystals.  Let's see if she
                                notices!

>                                                                 "This
>is mine?" she asked.
    
CROW [as Marrissa]: I'd like to have something closer to the weapons,
                    if you don't mind.

>        "Whenever you visit," Marie confirmed.  "The closet is over
>here.  If you need any help, just shout.  Rene is down the hall, third
>door on the right.  Your father will be right across the hall.  
    
TOM SERVO: Scooby, Shaggy, and Freddy will be staying in the next room, so
           enjoy your stay.  By the way, don't go down by the old saw mill;
           the ghost of Confederate general Horace Niles Zebediah III is
           haunting it.

>                                                                Lunch
>will be in a half an hour."
>        After Marie left, Marrissa did what she had always wanted to do
>with a bed like the one in this room.  
    
MIKE [while bouncing]: JUMPa! JUMPa! JUMPa! JUMPa! JUMPa! JUMPa!

>                                       She plopped right on it.  
    
ALL: EEEEEWWW!! 

>                                                                 She
>decided that she had been right as she stretched out.  It was a nice
>soft bed.  
    
TOM SERVO: She never felt the slight pinprick, nor the highly toxic poison
           already working into her body.

>           For a couple of minutes she enjoyed the feel of the soft
>bedspread and mattress.  
    
CROW:	Guys... I don't think we should be watching this.
MIKE:	I agree.

>                         The she got up and smoothed out the bed.  
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: No one understands me but you, bed.  You're my 
                         only friend.  The only one I need.... 

>                                                                   She
>picked up her suitcase and put her shirts and slacks away.  Finally she
>pulled out a photo.  It wasn't of her dead parents . . . 
    
CROW: She stopped photographing their rotting corpses weeks ago.

>                                                         that was still
>a painful memory.  This was a picture of her and Captain Picard on the
>archeological field trip they had taken.  
    
TOM SERVO: That too was a painful memory, but for far different reasons.

>                                          Then sighing, she set out to
>find the dining room.
    
[Mike unwraps a candy bar and starts to eat it.]
CROW: Hey Mike, is that a Snickers?
MIKE: Yeah.  Looks like this story's not going anywhere for a while.

>        
>        Marrissa took her seat next to her father and across from Rene.
>Marie and Robert were at the opposite ends of the table.  Theresa was in
>a high chair next to her mother.  The table was covered with a smooth
>white linen cloth and on it sat a feast.  
    
TOM SERVO: The Colonel was in the drawing room.  The poker used in the
           heinous crime was found in the garden, stained with blood.
           The fuzzy dice were nowhere to be seen.  Immediately, Columbo
           suspected foul play.

>                                          Chicken breasts basted in
>butter was the main course.  There were steaming hot mashed potatoes,
>green peas, and cauliflower in a yellow cheese sauce.  
    
CROW: In Steve's universe, HDL cholesterol is *good* for you!    
MIKE: You know it's good cooking if it causes a cardiac arrest.

>                                                       A basket full of
>fresh French bread completed the setting.  
    
CROW: 'Cause they're in France, you know.  Can't you see how much in
      France they are?
TOM SERVO: Isn't it illegal to have dinner in France without wine?
           Especially at a vineyard?
MIKE: I just can't wait to see Marrissa's face when she realizes there's
      no strawberries....

>                                           Marrissa bowed her head as
>the blessing was said, 
    
CROW [as Marrissa]: Oh Lord, please let me grow up to crush and oppress
                    all ahead of me, to dominate my husband and confuse
                    Trek continuity.  Amen.

>                       smelling the wonderful smells of a home cooked
>dinner.
    
TOM SERVO: Family dinner. You know what that means....
ALL: LET'S GET READY TO RRRRRRRUMBLE!!!

>        "So Robert, how is business?"  Jean-Luc asked, passing the
>potatoes to Marrissa.
    
TOM SERVO [as Robert]: Speaking of business, how about minding your own?!    
CROW [as Robert]: I'm not a failure!  *You're* a failure!  You're *all*
                  failures!!!

>        "Fairly good," Robert responded, taking the bread from Rene.
    
MIKE [as sports announcer]: It's a handoff by Rene, he goes downfield ten
                            yards and laterals to Szustakowski who runs
                            out of bounds just before being tackled!

>        "Fairly good, Robert?" Marie remarked.  
    
CROW [as Robert]: Yes, "fairly good".  What are you, deaf?!    
MIKE [as Marie]: Did I mention that ever since Robert's accident with the
                 vacuum cleaner, we don't waste any time with those pesky
                 marital relations?

>                                                "Booming is more like
>it.  Star Fleet business alone is twice it was last year."
    
TOM SERVO: Just imagine how good it'll be when humanity starts using money
           again!    
CROW [as Jean-Luc]: I saved your pathetic little grape juice factory with
                    *my* contacts and I will continue to hold that over you!

>        "It's amazing what giving one bottle of wine to Admiral Necheyev
>can do,"  Jean-Luc remarked.  
    
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: She starts dancing and taking off her clothes... that
                    girl can *not* hold her liquor!

>                              "In the past year, I haven't visited a
>captain and not been offered some of the '49.  
    
TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: We're getting the whole *fleet* drunk!
                         Bwahahahaha!

>                                               It's a good vintage."
>        "The '50 is better, but I don't think that any year will beat
>'33," Robert remarked.
>        "Perhaps," Jean-Luc replied.  "I really want to see how the '63
>turns out.  
    
CROW: Oh yeah?  What about the '44?  Or the '02?  Or the '16?  How
      many 2-digit numbers is Ratliff going to make up, anyway?!

>            It was father's last pressing, and each year seems to get
>better, but we taste no wine before it's time."
    
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Ha ha!  Oh, I was saving that joke for just the right
                    moment... what?  Come on, laugh!  It's funny!

>        "You may have a point," Robert conceded.  
    
TOM SERVO [as Robert]: By the way, last week I threw all your childhood
                       posessions into the sewer.  And I'd do it again!
                       It was fun, fun I tell you!

>                                                  "'33 was Grandfather's
>last after all.  Did you hear about Rene's job?"
    
CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Yeah.  Freelance loser.  Well done.

>        "I noticed his name in the employee list at the stables,"
>Jean-Luc said.  "So Rene, how are you enjoying being an exercise rider
>at Stargazer Stables?"

MIKE [as Rene, muttering]: Wine dates, wine dates, that's all they ever
                           talk about.  I'm so glad I'm running away next
                           week.... sorry, what did you say?

>        "I'm enjoying it, Uncle," Rene responded.  

TOM SERVO [as Japanese boy]: In fact, I LIKE IT VERY *MUCH*!

>                                                   "Mister White tells
>me that 
    
CROW [as Rene]: ... Miss Peacock did it in the conservatory with the
                candlestick.

>        Richard, Isabelle, and I have a chance to become the new jockey
>now that Maurice has retired."
    
MIKE [as Rene]: Of course, he keeps fondling an axe and cackling something
                about "height requirements"....

>        "How are this year's prospects?"  Jean-Luc asked.
    
TOM SERVO: Suddenly he's the manager from the "Hired!" short.

>        "Macedonian is fast out of the gate, but slows," Rene responded.
    
CROW [as Rene]: Then he disappears without a trace and isn't rediscovered
                for twenty centuries.

>"In the Stars and Mistress of the Stars are too slow.  
    
MIKE [as Rene]: ... so we had them made into dog food.

>                                                       Warp Speed is the
>best of them, but a little slow in crowds."
    
TOM SERVO: Then don't ride him through the stands, Rene!

>        "Well Mikey will cure what ails them," Jean-Luc remarked.  
    
CROW [as little kid]: Mikey'll cure 'em!  He cures *everything*!    
MIKE: Unfortunately, Uncle Mikey's "secret formula" was banned from all
      racetracks last year.

>                                                                   "I'm
>purchasing a new one to join the stable this afternoon.  
    
TOM SERVO: So who does he think he is, William Shatner?

>                                                         I'll be over
>tomorrow to watch them exercise and perhaps a half-mile race."
    
CROW [as Jean-Luc]: But I'll want to keep that race down to 400 yards or
                    less.

>        "I'll miss the horses when I go off to the Academy next year,"
>Rene commented.  
    
MIKE [as Rene]: Who else will listen to my angst-tinged teenage Sturm und
                Drang?

>                 "So Marrissa, what do you do in your spare time?"
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Oh, nothing special, really.  Seize control of
                         Federation starships.  Boss people around.  Kill
                         everyone who crosses me.  And you?

>        "Not much," Marrissa responded, blushing.  "I study a lot."
    
MIKE [as Marrissa]: I rule the universe, but try to only actively influence
                    it right before bedtime.

>        "Marrissa has one the last three science fairs for her age on
>the Enterprise," Jean-Luc remarked proudly, much to Marrissa's
>embarrassment.
    
CROW:	And ours.

>        "So you're a scientist," Marie assumed.  "I expect you spend a
>lot of time in the Enterprise's labs."
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Not when I need live human subjects.    
MIKE [as Marrissa]: Yup.  Tampering with data, sabotaging projects,
                    spitting in the petri dishes...it's *fun*!

>        "Not recently,"  Marrissa said, beginning to feel a little more
>comfortable. "I spend too much time working on starship tactics."
    
CROW: Apparently the Picards and their adopted spawn multitask beyond the 
      dreams of Unix!

>        "Following in Jean-Luc's footsteps, I see," Robert remarked.  "I
>wish my son would follow in mine."
    
TOM SERVO [as Rene]: But daddy, I don't *want* to be an experimental guinea
                     pig for the military's bizarre super-soldier
                     experiments!
MIKE [as Robert]: Rubbish, boy, it's a family tradition!

>        "Not again," Rene sighed, looking up towards the ceiling as if
>he was praying for divine intervention to change the topic.
    
CROW: We've tried that, kid.  It never works.

>        "When I was his age, I was already a fair wine tester, and spent
>hours 
    
TOM SERVO [as Robert]: ... drunk in the cellar.

>      tending the vines," Robert remarked, shaking his fork full of
>chicken at his son.

MIKE: And getting feathers all over the table.

>        "As I recall, you grumbled tough most of the vine tending,"
>Jean-Luc remembered.  "And as for the wine testing, you had to be almost
>drunk before you could identify the wine."
    
CROW [as Robert]: So I like to be thorough, is that so wrong?

>        "I never got drunk tasting wine," Robert responded.
    
MIKE [as Robert]: But gin?  All the time!

>        "Oh no brother, you never got drunk," Jean-Luc replied, a
>twinkle in his eye.  
    
TOM SERVO: You know, sometimes when imagery hits you the wrong way, you
           just want to get up and toss your cookies....

>                     "You just fell into the wine cellar and broken your
>arm."
    
CROW [as Robert]: Accidents happen, dear brother... even to Starfleet
                  captains.  Take my meaning?

>        "I was distracted," Robert remarked.
>        "By the wine," Jean-Luc insisted, tapping the side of his
>wineglass.
    
MIKE: Jean-Luc... I think you could have picked a better time to do an
      intervention.

>        "No, by Francine DeBarque," Robert stated.
>        "Oh, so Francine just happened to walk by," Jean-Luc remarked.
    
TOM SERVO: That's right, Robert, berate your son, then talk about other
           women in front of your wife.  Why not try some full frontal
           nudity while you're at it?    
MIKE: "My Dinner with Andre," this ain't.

>        "I remember Francine," Marie said.  "She was a grade ahead of
>me.  Blond hair, blue eyes, she had all the boys chasing after her.  She
>looked a lot like Marrissa."
    
CROW [as Marie]: *Sigh*  If she only knew how much I wanted her....

>        "I've got violet eyes," Marrissa replied.  "And I certainly
>don't have boys chasing me."
    
MIKE: Perverted Starfleet officers, yes, but no boys.

>        "Give them time Marrissa, you're only twelve," Marie stated.
>Jean-Luc looked startled.  "Is there something wrong, Jean-Luc?"
    
TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: Marie, do you think I'm losing my hair?

>        "I remember Francine," Jean-Luc responded.  "If boys come after
>Marrissa like they did Francine, I don't know how I'll protect her."
    
MIKE: Somehow I don't think Marrissa's the one you need to worry about
      protecting.

>        "Dad don't worry," Marrissa reassured, calling him dad for the
>first time.  "If any boy bothers me, 
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: ... Ratliff will contrive some painful and
                         embarrassing death for them.

>                                     I'll just tell him who my father is
>and they'll leave."
>        "I have that reputation among children," Jean-Luc asked.  
    
CROW [as Marrissa]: No, actually your reputation is that of a pompous,
                    overbearing stuffed-shirt panty waist... oh, I'm
                    sorry, I thought you said among the *officers*.

>                                                                  "And
>I'm not worried about the boys you don't like."
    
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: You can always bite their heads off, just like a black
                    widow.

>        "You don't do anything that could get the Captain against you,"
>Marrissa said.  "My friends thought I was crazy when I set out to get
>you as my mentor.  They said I was risking my time on the ship."
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: So I had them deported and had new friends sent
                         in.  I like these new ones *much* better now!

>
>        After dinner, Marrissa explored the vineyard.  Her new uncle
>Robert showed her the winepress and bottler.  
    
MIKE [as Marrissa]: But if I put my hand in there, won't it hurt?
CROW [as Robert]: Shut up, kid!  Just do it!

>                                              Rene showed her the wine
>cellar.  She got her first taste of wine, which she didn't like.
    
MIKE: Marrissa was cast out of the Picard family in disgrace.
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: As God is my witness... I'LL NEVER BE FRENCH AGAIN!

>        Afterwards, she visited the library.  The selection of books was
>enormous.  
    
CROW [as Marrissa]: Let's see... there's "Hop On Pop", the Amway sales
                    manual, "Dianetics", "Beat Bedwetting Through
                    Hypnosis"...

>           One whole section of the wall contained just books for
>children her age.  
    
MIKE [as Marrissa]: ... "The Kobayashi Maru Test: What It Can Do For You",
                    "How To Gain Rank And Abuse Others", "Outwitting Adults
                    In Ten Easy Lessons", "Awakening The Tyrant Within"....

>                   There was Dixon's Hardy Boys,  Kreene's Nancy Drew,
    
CROW: Uh, that's *Keene*, Steve....

>and even some Three Investagators.  
    
MIKE [as Curly]: Hey Moe!
TOM SERVO: Apparently no juvenile fiction has been written for over 400
           years.
MIKE [as Marrissa]: What kind of a library is this, anyway?!  Where's the
                    Goosebumps?  
CROW [as Marrissa]: No Sweet Valley High?  No Encyclopedia Brown?
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: No Babysitter's Club?  No Animorphs?

>                                    Marrissa pulled out one of the Nancy
>Drew books, Nancy Drew and the Crumbling Wall, and opened it.  It was a
>first edition!  
    
CROW:	Ah, yes... rare, first edition books left out in the open for any
      random visitor to fold, spindle and mutilate!  Good one, Jean-Luc!

>                Marrissa knew that those were very rare and this one was
>in almost mint condition after four centuries.  

TOM SERVO: But not for long...

>                                                She curled up in a
>nearby chair and began to read it, careful not to damage it.
    
MIKE: Apart from using the yellow marker on the good parts.
CROW: And dogearing each page after she reads it.
TOM SERVO: And putting scotch tape tabs at the start of each chapter.

>        After a while her father came in.  "Anything interesting?" he
>asked.

MIKE: Nope.  Just a lot of boring talk about books and meals and horses
      and wines and old girlfriends... thanks, Ratliff!
CROW [deep voice]: Ratliff!  This is GOD!  PICK UP THE PACE!!!

>        "Just a Nancy Drew I haven't read," Marrissa replied without
>looking up.
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Just a priceless antique I wanted to devalue.

>        "Enjoy," the Captain said, picking up a copy of the unabridged
>Shakespeare.  He turned to The Taming of the Shrew, and sat down on the
>couch.
    
MIKE: A very appropriate choice for Marrissa's new father.    
CROW: [as Jean-Luc]: Heh heh heh... Beverly, you'll always be Kate to me.

>        Then Rene came in.  He pulled out one of the Hardy Boys books
>and sat in the chair on the other end of the couch.  
    
TOM SERVO: You know, I'd heard so much in previews about the intense
           reading scene, but I didn't know it would be so... so... so...
CROW: Dull and uninteresting?
TOM SERVO: Only more so.

>                                                     Robert joined them
>in the library to work on some account statements on his desk near the
>windows.
    
CROW [as Robert]: Whenever I have trouble sleeping, a little accounting
                  *always* does the trick.

>        Then Rene and Marrissa yawned, one after another.  
    
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Close up the accounting stuff, Robert, it's 
                         boring us from across the room.    
MIKE: Plot commentary from the characters, folks!  You heard it here first!

>                                                           "If you are
>tired, you should go to bed," Robert remarked.
    
TOM SERVO [as Robert]: Or just drink yourselves unconscious already!

>        "Quite right," Jean-Luc seconded.
>        "Just another chapter," Marrissa and Rene replied in unison.
    
CROW: The scene screams Norman Rockwell, but my emotions are all yelling
      Norman Bates.  How to choose, how to choose...

>        "Humph," Robert responded.
    
MIKE: And yet another adult finds himself bested by adolescents.

>        Soon the books slipped from Marrissa's and Rene's hands as they
>fell asleep.  The thump of the books hitting the floor alerted their
>parents.  
    
TOM SERVO: ... who immediately beat them senseless for damaging prized
           antiques.
CROW: Great, we've got the psi-linked cousins, the intensely lukewarm 
      rivalry between brothers and dramatic scenes of people reading.  All
      we need now is a little nookie and this could be Voyager.

>          Jean-Luc looked over at Marrissa who was curled up in the
>chair with a smile on her face.  She was dreaming of solving the mystery
>she had just begun reading.
    
TOM SERVO: A small squad of Romulans could wipe out the Hardy Boys and
           then Nancy Drew would have the world all to herself!    
MIKE [as Marrissa]: Mmmm... reroute... deflector dish... *snort, mumble*... 
                    lock... suspects in... *little smacking noises*... 
                    small room together... would work... Frank...

>        "I think I'll carry Marrissa to her room," Jean-Luc whispered to
>his brother.  
    
CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Or we could drive her to Marseilles and abandon her in
                    the streets.

>              "I don't want to disturb her sleep.  
    
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: She's disturbed enough during her waking hours.

>                                                   She's had so little
>of it with the nightmares of her parents deaths."
    
TOM SERVO: Not to mention the ones where some Comp Sci student is
           controlling her like an insane marionette.

>        "I wouldn't get into a habit of it," Robert whispered back.
    
MIKE [as Robert]: Love just makes people soft.

>"Twelve-year-olds are heavy.  I intend to wake up Rene when I finish the
>accounting."
    
CROW [as Robert]: That's why I brought this tuba in here.

>        "It's not that far to her room," Jean-Luc dismissed.
    
TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc, singing]: She's not heavy... she's my demon
                                  spawn...

>        "Rene's is even closer, but you don't see me carrying him,"
>Robert said, as Jean-Luc gently lifted Marrissa from her chair.
    
MIKE [as Picard]: That's because you're not a *manly* man like me.

>
>        Jean-Luc carried Marrissa down the hall to her room.  
    
CROW: [makes exhausted wheezing noises]
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: "Not that far"... what was I *thinking*?!
                    
>                                                              He opened
>the door and brought her over to the bed.  He careful stripped her of
>her outer garments and slid her under the covers.  
    
[Crow, Tom and Mike all begin to politely cough.]    
TOM SERVO: Careful, Jean-Luc... remember, her name's Marrissa, not
           Soon-Yi.

>                                                   Then he moved to the
>door.  He paused there, looking back at the sleeping girl.  Robert was
>right that she was heavy, but standing here at the door looking at
>Marrissa sleeping peaceful for once, some how Jean- Luc knew that she
>was worth every ounce.
    
CROW: Two dollars a pound or so, depending on how choice the cut was.

>Chapter Two
>Day Two

MIKE: Earth-Two.
CROW: Mike, I just pictured a Golden Age Marrissa Picard.  You die slowly
      and horribly in your sleep for that.

>Early Morning

TOM SERVO: Now is the morning of our discontent.

>
>        Marrissa yawned as she entered the kitchen.  It was ten o'clock.

MIKE: P.M.
TOM SERVO: See that?  She's even a workaholic at slacking off.

>She was wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt with the Enterprise
>printed on it.  

CROW: Fangirl!  Fangirl!
TOM SERVO: Yes, crass commercialism is alive and well in the 24th century.

>                Her father had been up since dawn.  "Good Morning,"
>Jean-Luc Picard greeted.  "Still sleepy I see."

CROW [as Marrissa]: Couldn't sleep... I kept having this awful nightmare
                    where I was stuck in some French hick town, and...
                    oh.  Never mind.

>        "I'm catching up on sleep," Marrissa replied.  "Where is
>everyone?"

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Left France forever to avoid you.  Toast?

>        "Marie took Theresa in for her checkup," Jean-Luc responded.

CROW: The vet's afraid they'll have to put her to sleep, poor girl.

>"Robert is tending the vines and Rene is over at the stables exercising
>horses."

MIKE: Actually he's exorcising horses.  He's thinking about becoming a
      minister.

>        "What are you going to do today?" Marrissa asked.

TOM SERVO [as Brain]: The same thing we do every day, Pinky... try to 
                      take over the *world*!

>        "I think I'll go into town and see if any thing changed in the
>last three years," Jean-Luc said.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Then I'll remember what kind of a pathetic backwater
                    I grew up in and drink my misery away.

>                                  "Would you like to join me?"
>        "Any shops in town?" Marrissa asked.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: No.  Labarre has outlawed all commercial activity.
                    We're all communists now.

>                                              "I'm short on shirts."

CROW: And Steve-o is short on talent.
TOM SERVO: How does Marrissa keep running out of clothing?  She lives on
           a starship with a replicator, right?

>
>        The town of Labarre was not very big.  

TOM SERVO: Changing it's name from 'Lavar' didn't help, either.
MIKE: Huh?
TOM SERVO: It's in Cadet Cruise.  Look it up.

>                                               It was dominated by two
>buildings; 

CROW: The Wal*Mart superstore and the Piggly Wiggly.

>           the town hall, a four-story gray building in the Renaissance
>style; and the white Gothic style Catholic Church.  Several small shops
>alternated with town houses between the two.  

MIKE: You know, except for the architecture, this sounds like every "city"
      in Indiana.

>                                              As they passed the church
>an old priest in a black priest's shirt came out and said, 

TOM SERVO [as Dave Letterman]: HEY YOU KIDS, GET OFF MY LAWN!

>                                                           "Good
>Morning, Jean-Luc."
>        "Father Francis, I didn't know you had left San Francisco,"
>Jean-Luc remarked.  

CROW [as Francis]: Yes, but my heart's still there.
MIKE: Suddenly Jean-Luc's back in "Jeffrey".

>                    "Did the Cadets finally get to you?"

CROW [as Francis]: Actually, the results of the paternity test came in,
                   and then the altar boys started talking....
MIKE: Thanks for waiting until Chapter Two to start offending people, Crow.

>        "It was time to move to a less stressful post," Father Francis
>said.  "So when Father Pierre died last fall, 

TOM SERVO [as evil Chekov]: ... we *all* moved up in rank!

>                                              I asked for his post."

CROW [as Francis]: And his car.  Hey, he won't be needing it anymore!

>        "Who's in charge in San Francisco now?" Jean-Luc asked.  

MIKE [as Francis]: Uh, the mayor and the board of supervisors, just
                   like always.  Why do you ask?

>                                                                 "I had
>assumed that you took over the Archdiocese since Archbishop Carson
>became Pope."

TOM SERVO: Wow.  King of late night television *and* spiritual father.
MIKE [as Ed McMahon]: And now, ladies and gentlemen, heeeeeeeeeeeere's
                      THE PONTIFF!
CROW [as Johnny Carson]: Stop me if you've heard this one, but a priest,
                         a minister and a rabbi all walked into a bar...
                         there's no punchline, but if you don't laugh 
                         I'll excommunicate all of you and see you damned
                         to Hell for all eternity.
MIKE [as Ed McMahon]: Hwah hwah hwah... HIYOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

>        "I declined the post. I'm too old to be running around with
>Cadets and consoling Admirals," Father Francis said.  "Bishop Hanson of
>Alpha Centauri got the post.  

CROW: It was the least they could do for his rendition of "MMMBop".
TOM SERVO: So why is it an entire solar system gets a bishop when each
           city on Earth gets its own?

>                              Who is this young companion of yours?"

MIKE [as Francis]: And why is she hissing and backing away from my 
                   crucifix?

>        "Oh, this is my newly adopted daughter Marrissa," Jean-Luc said.

CROW [as Francis]: Uh... you can still change your mind, right?

>"Marrissa, this is Father Francis.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: Marrissa, say hello to the man at whom you're
                         going to spit pea soup.
CROW [deep, gravelly voice]: There is no Marrissa.  Only... ZUUUUUUUUUUL!

>                                    He was my confessor during my
>Academy days."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: He used to put me in a comfy chair and poke me with
                    soft cushions until I confessed.

>        "Pleased to meet you Father Francis," Marrissa said.
>        "Pleased to meet you, young Marrissa," Father Francis responded.

TOM SERVO: Father, Daughter; Daughter, Father.
MIKE: Father, Father; Daughter, Daughter.
CROW: Daughter, Father; Father, Daughter.
TOM SERVO: Daughter, Daughter; Father, Father.

>"So Jean-Luc, where are you off to today.  Is it the restaurants, the
>parks, or the bars?"

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: The bars, of course.  Nothing like starting the day
                    with a good drunk.  And with my 12-year old daughter
                    in tow, too.

>        "The T-shirt shop," Jean-Luc remarked.  "Marrissa didn't pack
>enough."

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: She's always running low on T-shirt shops.

>        "Mind if I join you?" the priest asked.  "I'm leading a retreat
>of seminarians and I've got to get some T-shirts as well."

CROW: The Father can't get enough of those "Big Johnson" T-Shirts.
MIKE: Your collection dollars at work.

>
>        A brass bell rang when Jean-Luc, Marrissa, and Father Francis
>entered the shop.  

TOM SERVO [as doorman from Wizard of Oz]: WHO RANG THAT BELL?!?

>                   A heavy oak counter ran across the back of the shop.

CROW: It bopped into the wall and fell down.

>In the front of the shop were several racks of finished shirts.  

MIKE: Each shirt was hand-picked and barrel-aged for that authentic
      wearing experience.

>                                                                 As one
>of them appeared to contain shirts around her size, Marrissa walked over
>to it and began to look through it.  

TOM SERVO: So Marrissa's got X-ray vision now?

>                                     Jean-Luc stood behind her near the
>door.  Father Francis walked over to the counter.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Getaway car's clear.  You have the phaser?
MIKE [as Francis]: Yeah.  We attack the cashier on three.

>                                                   As he reached it, a
>black-haired man came out from behind the curtain in the back of the
>shop.

CROW:	Jean-Luc could tell by the way he held the shotgun he meant business.

>        "Good morning Father," he said.
>        "Good morning, Philippe," Father Francis said. "I have to
>purchase thirty T-shirts for a retreat."

TOM SERVO: Bad choice of words, Father... the French are still touchy about
           that World War II thing.

>        "I'll go get my religious designs," Philippe excused himself.

MIKE [as Philippe]: Um, I've got dunking chairs, tainted Koolade, power
                    crystals, the Hale-Bopp comet... what denomination did
                    you say you were again?
CROW: They're right next to the Elvis designs.  Not much difference,
      really.

>        Father Francis turned back to look at Marrissa and Jean-Luc as
>he waited for Philippe's return.  Marrissa had just pulled out a light
>blue shirt with the town hall and Saint Andrew's in the foreground.

TOM SERVO: Proving that even in the future, small-town tourist items are
           still bland and uninteresting.

>Rows of grape vines stretched out behind the buildings and Jean-Luc's
>head was painted above them.  

CROW: Aw, great, they wandered into a Creation Convention.

>                              With a mischievous grin, Marrissa turned
>around and asked, holding it up against her chest, "What do you think?"

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Well, maybe when puberty sets in it'll look a little
                    more... oh.  You meant the shirt.

>        Jean-Luc looked at the shirt.  He read the inscription below the
>picture, "I visited Labarre, France, Home of Captain Picard."  

ALL [reciting dully]: ... and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.

>                                                               His eyes
>looked up to the ceiling, "What possessed Philippe to create such a
>shirt."

TOM SERVO: Either the Devil or Ratliff.

>        "You don't like it?" Marrissa asked, careful to keep her
>laughter out of her voice.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Why can't you just get a Metallica T-shirt like all
                    the other kids?

>        "Marrissa, I'd like to have it burnt," Jean-Luc said in a
>monotone.

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Fetch the gasoline like a good girl, Marrissa.  I know
                    I've got a lighter here somewhere....

>        "Good, because I think its trash," Marrissa said.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: I mean just look at that hideous freak on the shirt!
                    What's he doing, warning us against tractor acciden--
                    oh, sorry dad!

>                                                           "Now this one
>is much more to my tastes."  She pulled out a red shirt with black
>shoulders.  Across the shirt in silver letters was written 'Future
>Star Fleet Officer.'

CROW [as Marrissa]: Future Genocidial Maniac was all sold out.

>        "Nice choice," Jean-Luc said.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: I prefer sleazy commercialism that's a little more
                    restrained.
TOM SERVO: Yes, folks, this is about as subtle as the foreshadowing gets
           around here.

>        Meanwhile, Philippe had returned and laid out the book of
>designs.  "What would you like to start with?"

CROW [as Francis]: Oh, I don't know, you got one of a half-open skull
                   with flaming red eyes and blood pouring out the top
                   onto a naked babe?

>        "A cross, Latin I think," the priest said.  "And an inscription,
>'seminarian retreat 2370 Rome' and I need some sort of slogan, but
>one escapes me for the moment."

MIKE: We've got a few ideas... right guys?
CROW: "Priests do it in an altared state."
TOM SERVO: "Kiss Me, I'm Catholic"
MIKE: "Sexy but celibate."
CROW: "I was a minor character dragooned into Ratliff's ghastly 
       fanfic and all I've got to show for it is this lousy T-shirt!"
TOM SERVO: How about: "Murder and oppression are our specialty."?
MIKE: "The Catholic Church: Not just for Inquisitions anymore!"
CROW: "Spreading our tentacles over half the galaxy."
MIKE: "We still won't acknowledge everything from World War II!"
TOM SERVO: "The Final Fatima Prophecy - so what!"
CROW: "Get thee behind me Satan, or I'll kick your ass!"

>        "How about Expectant Father," Marrissa said from across the
>room, grinning.  All eyes turned to her.  

[dead silence]
CROW [as Francis]: *You* adopted her.
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: I know... I *know*...

>                                          "Well they are about to become
>priests, and that is what you call priests."

TOM SERVO: That explanation provided for all the space aliens who know
           nothing about human civilization who might read this story.
CROW: So, most anyone you find on Usenet, then?
MIKE: Ka-zing!

>        "Expectant Father  . . .  I like it," Father Francis responded
>after a moment.  

TOM SERVO: Even men of the cloth were no match for Marrissa's indomitable
           will.

>                 He pointed to a particular design and continued,
>"Philippe, I like this one.  

CROW [as Francis]: Drawing of a tuxedo on a T-shirt, cracks me up every
                   time.

>                             Put the event here and 'Expectant
>Father' right below it in larger type.  I'd like it in black with white
>print."

MIKE [as Philippe]: Right.  I can get it to you in blue or red.

>        Meanwhile Marrissa had picked out a couple T-shirts.  Jean-Luc
>paid for them and the two walked back to the vineyard.

TOM SERVO: That was gripping... but I didn't like where I was gripped.

>
>        Marie was sweeping the walk when they got there.  She looked up
>and said, 

CROW [as Marie]: Welcome... to... Stepford.  You... will... like... it...
                 here.

>          "Marrissa, Rene wants to know if you'd accompany him to the
>stables."

MIKE [falsetto]: He asked me!  He asked me!

>        "Yes," Marrissa responded.

TOM SERVO: Such scintillating dialogue.  I can't wait to hear more.

>        "He's in his room at the moment," Marie remarked.  "Go tell
>him."  Marrissa skipped into the house.  When Marrissa was inside, Marie
>spoke up again, 

CROW [as Marie]: I don't know how you people do things on your fancy-
                 schmancy Enterprise, but down here, good decent folks 
                 don't skip.  They trudge with the weight of their dull,
                 monotonous lives pressing down hard upon their shoulders.

>                "You've got a very happy young girl, Jean-Luc."

MIKE: Absolute power has that effect on people.

>        "You wouldn't have said that if you'd seen her before we left
>the Enterprise," Jean-Luc responded.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: I'm very careful to deprive her of joy twice
                         daily.  It builds character.

>                                      "She was positively depressed.
>Her parent's death hit her hard, but the moment we left the ship, she
>perked up."

CROW: She knew by then that her plan to attach herself to Jean-Luc like a
      limpet had succeeded.

>        "Then don't expect it to last," Marie said.
>        "Oh?"

MIKE [as Marie]: Puberty will make her a surly shrew.

>        "Right now she's seeing something new.  It keeps her mind off
>her sorrow.  Eventually she will remember again."
>        "I had hoped the nightmares and depression were over."

CROW: So did we...
TOM SERVO: Jean-Luc's new at this emotion stuff.

>        "They will be diminished, but only time will heal."

MIKE: Unless it reveals a new series of tragedies and horrors to her, in
      which case time wounds over and over.
CROW: Of course, there *are* the will-deadening drugs to consider....

>        "I've had many officers die under my command, and had to tell
>many of their children of their parent's death before.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: It was getting to be like an assembly line.  In.
                         Out.  Lickity split.  No fuss, no muss.  It's how 
                         a sensitive and touchy situation like this 
                         *should* be handled.

>                                                        Until Marrissa,
>I don't think I really had any idea how it affected them though."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Me being an insensitive bastard and all.

>        "You have a daughter now, Jean-Luc.  That changes everything."

CROW [as Marie]: For one thing, now you have a tax writeoff.

>Chapter Three
>Day Two
>Midday

CROW: Mike?
MIKE: Yes, Crow?
CROW: At the start of this fic, we were promised horses.  It's now Chapter 
      Three, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of a magnificent steed.  If 
      I don't see some horsies pronto, I'm going to start torching the
      place!

>
>        Marrissa knocked on Rene's door.  "Come in," Rene's voice said.

TOM SERVO: ... after he scrambled to zip up his pants and hide the
           Playboys.

>Marrissa entered.  The room was white walled where pictures of starships
>and starship Captains inter-spaced with the occasional horse picture
>wasn't covering.  

MIKE: So he's a cross between a Star Trek geek and a 12-year-old girl?
CROW: In other words, if Marrissa was a real person?

>                  There was a single bed with a black bedspread under
>the window.  

TOM SERVO [singing]: I see a bedspread and I want it painted black....

>             There was a dresser, a book case, and a desk; all made of
>walnut.  

CROW: Hmmm, edible furniture.  What a concept!

>         All available surfaces were covered with model starships.  

MIKE: All *right*!  A *modeling* nerd!

>                                                                    Rene
>was working on a model of the Enterprise-C.  

MIKE [as Rene]: So I used a test article to see how the spillover from the
                cyanoacrylates affected the paint....
CROW [as Marrissa]: Thank you.

>                                             He had the stardrive
>section complete except for the warp engines which he was fastening the
>red tips on.

MIKE [as Rene]: And I checked -- these are in 1/4178th scale, which really
                frosts my shorts because these others are in 1/4125th
                which is a much more standard scale....
CROW [as Marrissa]: All right, thanks.

>        "Did you make all of these?" Marrissa asked.
>        "From kits," Rene said proudly.  

MIKE [as Rene]: Anyway, I found the rear secondary phaser arrays were
                nearly half a scale foot too large when I checked my
                references....
CROW [as Marrissa]: Yeah, fascinating.

>                                         "I started with the
>Enterprise-D over there."  He pointed to the model on the dresser.

MIKE [as Rene]: So after I did a test paint on some of the skeleton to
                make sure the paint dried to the right shade -- the one
                they suggest has a slight gloss that gets distorted under
                the decal set compound....
CROW [as Marrissa]: O-kaaaaay.

>"Then I did the Stargazer.  When the Nebula came out I did it.  

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: I was going to do the Voyager model, but nobody could
                     find that one.

>                                                                I was
>finished before they commissioned the second ship.  

MIKE [as Rene]: Anyway, so I did some kitbashing 'cause the ERTL kits 
                just don't match with the putty well and found by using
                different bottles of the same paint color I could get the
                detail effect I want under indirect and reflected light....
CROW [as Marrissa]: Right, right.

>                                                    Then I started on
>the rest of the Enterprises, 

MIKE [as Rene]: But it takes so long to sand those lousy raised panel
                lines off the saucer.  MAN, I hate those.  I spend all
                afternoon with the emory board and it just makes me....
CROW [as Marrissa]: This is only interesting to YOU, Rene.

>                             but I haven't had as much time since I got
>the job at the stables."
>        "I know how that is," Marrissa commented.
>        "Oh?"

TOM SERVO: Yeah, she knows what it's like to have a stable position.
[Mike thwacks Tom in the head]

>        "Jay Gordon and I started a club, 

CROW [as Marrissa]: Oh, no, wait, we started clubbing people.  My mistake.

>                                          after we were trapped in the
>turbolift with Captain Picard, to learn how to command and run the ship
>and have some fun doing it," Marrissa began.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: We never had friends, you know.
TOM SERVO: Oh yeah, that compares perfectly with having an ACTUAL JOB.

>                                              "We decided that whoever
>had the highest time in a recently retired Academy scenario would be in
>charge.  

CROW: Once again, the Kobayashi Maru rears its ugly, overused head!
TOM SERVO: I think Ratliff is finally tired of getting beat up for this
           for every fanfic he writes.

>         I lasted longer  . . .  so I have to makes sure everything is
>ready for our twice weekly meeting."

MIKE [as Jay]: Bean dip?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Check.
MIKE [as Jay]: Extra greasy Muncharoos Brand Simulated Potato Flavour 
               Chips?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Check.
MIKE [as Jay]: Three cases of Burping Baby Cola?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Check.
MIKE [as Jay]: Detailed coup plans for seizing the bridge of the
               Enterprise?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Check.
MIKE [as Jay]: Great, we're in business!  Break out the chips and pass me
               a phaser!

>        "How did you end up trapped in the turbolift with Uncle
>Jean-Luc?" Rene asked.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: I can't say until after the civil trial finishes.

>        "It was a couple of years ago," Marrissa began.  

ALL: FLASHBACK!  FLASHBACK!

>                                                         "I had just won
>the science fair for the first time.  Everyone in my class wanted to
>win.  

MIKE: The writers were getting desperate. They'd used most of the good
      ideas last season.

>      The prize was a 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: ... blind date with Commander Riker.  Second
                         prize was two dates with Commander Riker.

>                      tour of the ship by the Captain.  Captain Picard
>was a hero to most of them, 

CROW [as Marrissa]: ... because they never saw my videotapes of him.

>                             but at the time I needed the A.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: ... so I resolved to kiss some serious butt.

>                                                              My father
>had told me that if I got an A, he would 

CROW [as Marrissa]: ... finally let me out of the garage and let me sleep
                    in the house.

>                                          take me camping, and I love
>camping. 

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Especially on the holodeck, where every bit of
                    everything is absolutely synthetic, controlled,
                    predictable, and harmless!
TOM SERVO: Um... the one on Star Trek?  The weekly technological
           disaster?
MIKE: Oh yeah.  Forgot myself.

>         So I worked and studied until I had the best project I'd ever
>done.  

MIKE: She modified a Sega Master System to accept Game Gear carts.

>       I won and Counselor Troi brought me, Jay Gordon, and Patterson
>Supra to the bridge to claim our prize."

CROW [as Marrissa]: But first we had to write checks to the people running
                    the contest, and we couldn't let anyone in the
                    government know about it....

>        "I was so nervous that I couldn't even look up to see the
>Captain.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: If he found my secret vial of Ratliff Gas, the
                         whole plan would go wrong!

>          It was my first time on the bridge, and all I saw of it was
>the carpet and the Captain Picard's boots."

CROW [as Marrissa]: Which I was then instructed to lick clean.

>        "When we got in the turbolift, he asked us about our science
>projects.  Jay and Patterson told him about their projects.  Then the
>Captain asked about mine.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: A simulated potholder... fascinating...

>                           I gathered up my courage and looked up at
>him.  Just as I was about to tell him, my science project struck."

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: My campaign to take over the Enterprise had begun.

>        "Your science project ran amuck on the Enterprise?" Rene
>interrupted.

CROW: Oh, whose don't?

>        "No, my science project was an analyst of quantum filament
>distribution and movement.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: We got those words from the random technobabble
                    generator.

>                            That day, two hit the Enterprise.  

TOM SERVO [sarcastically]: What are the odds?

>                                                               Anyway
>the turbolift started to fall, and Jay, Patterson, and I started to
>scream.  The Captain stated the obvious, 

CROW: Isn't that the Counselor's job?

>                                         and only made things worse."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: He insisted that we pull his finger.

>        "Finally the lift stopped.  We were on spread out on the floor
>of the lift and he had a broken ankle.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Served him right for being such a butthead.

>                                        The Captain tried to contact
>someone, but communications were out.  Jay stated that 'they're all
>dead.'  This was enough to get us all crying.  

MIKE [as Marrissa, crying]: No more tormenting our teachers!
CROW [as Marrissa, crying]: No more harassing our friends' parents!
TOM SERVO [as Marrissa, crying]: No more psychologically abusing the
                                 younger kids!

>                                               The Captain tried to
>reassure us and told us to 'stop crying.'  We only got louder."
>        "Then he hit 

CROW [as Marrissa]: ... us all really hard with the butt end of his
                    phaser.  That shut us up real quick.

>                     upon the idea of appointing us his crew.  

TOM SERVO: And thus began a long, galactic nightmare.

>                                                               He made
>Patterson his Executive Officer in charge of radishes, 

CROW: Radishes?!
TOM SERVO: Radishes.
MIKE: It's official Trek canon, guys.
CROW: You think that makes it BETTER?!

>                                                       Jay was his
>Science Officer, and he appointed me his First Officer, his Number One.

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: Okay, but *radishes*?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Shut up.

>I had never been selected for anything before.  I had always been the
>shy little girl in the back of the room.  

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: Uh-huh.  Sure.  So when Uncle Jean-Luc started going
                     off on radishes, you knew he'd gotten a full dose of
                     goofy juice, right?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Thank you.  Yes.

>                                          I still have those two rank
>pips in my jewelry box."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Along with twenty others that will eventually be
                    pinned to my uniform... but that's another story.

>        "Anyway he enlisted us to check on the safety clamps.  

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: So you listened to him after he appointed somebody
                     in charge of radishes?
CROW [as Marrissa]: Would you get *over* it already?

>                                                               Jay
>reported that one was broken.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]:  Then he admitted he didn't have a clue what he was
                     doing.

>                               The Captain explained the need for us to
>leave, telling us to leave him behind.  After a couple comments from Jay
>and Patterson, I summoned up my courage and told him that we all were
>going or were all staying.  

TOM SERVO [as Kurt Russell]: You go... we go.

>                            He agreed, but told me it was mutiny."

CROW [as Marrissa]: It was merely a foretaste of things to come.

>        "We chained ourselves together with some optical cabling and
>climbed up the shaft.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Luckily we brought a block and tackle set along so
                    us three little kids could haul a full-grown man with
                    a broken ankle out the top of the turbolift.

>                       When the turbolift gave way, we got a little
>scared.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Since we were being kept from horrible, painful
                         death by something with the tensile strength of
                         spaghetti.

>         So he asked me if I knew a song.  All I could think of was a
>lame tune called 'The Laughing Vulcan and his Dog.'  The Captain
>didn't know it 

CROW: 'Cause it would have taken a writer to make up the song.

>               and suggested 'Frere Jacques.'  

TOM SERVO: The "writers" figured he would have to love that stupid song,
           being French and all.

>                                               So we 

MIKE [as Marrissa]: ... laughed in his face and cut him loose.

>                                                     sang that until
>we reached a door that would open."
>        "So that's it?" Rene asked.

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: Please?  I'll give you a dollar.
CROW: Actually, I have a feeling this boring recap of events everybody is
      already familiar with is going to grind on for a least a half-
      dozen more paragraphs.

>        "No, later we made a plaque to give to the Captain," Marrissa
>said.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: We had a sandwich for breakfast.  It was lightly
                    toasted and had ham, a fine prosciutto with a bit of
                    Kosciusko mustard.  It was served with a light ginger
                    ale that was slightly flat.  They...
TOM SERVO: Enough.

>       "Counselor Troi brought us to the Bridge to give it to the
>Captain.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: This gave me the perfect opportunity to dope the rest
                    of the bridge crew with Ratliff Gas.

>          Commander Riker was 

CROW [as Marrissa]: ... busy reading the Romulan edition of Penthouse.

>                              in command.  He made a comment that the
>Counselor couldn't stay away from the command chair.  Apparently she'd
>been in command during the disaster."

TOM SERVO: Or, well, in command of the two other people she could contact,
           actually.

>        "The Ship's Counselor in command?" Rene interrupted.

MIKE [as Rene]: I'm surprised you lived to tell about it!

>        "It's not a usual situation," Marrissa said.  

CROW: Yeah, she was an adult at the tail end of the story.  Usually
      Ratliff has 'em all killed off by then!

>                                                      "Anyway, she
>replied, that she wasn't 'cut out for the big chair' but said that
>First Officer might be more to her liking, 

TOM SERVO: 'Cause she was more than able to ask stupid questions that
           lead into exposition.

>                                           citing its lack of real
>qualifications.  

MIKE: Just like Vice-President.

>                 Then Riker called the Captain to the Bridge.  We
>presented him with the plaque and he promised to finish the tour.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: For some reason it resumed with me looking at
                         the inside of the phaser cannon.

>                                                                   As he
>left the bridge, he said 'You have the Bridge, Number One.'
>Automatically both Commander Riker and I said 'Aye sir.'  

ALL: Wah wah wah wwwwwaaaaaaahhhhhhhh...

>                                                          He turned
>back to me and I laughed nervously.  He winked at me 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: I knew what the wink meant and I hated him for it.

>                                                     and left the
>bridge."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: And then we had to sit through some lousy commercials
                    and the closing credits.
CROW: You know, this kind of thing was fine... before they invented *VCRs*!
TOM SERVO: Sort of like being there, isn't it?
MIKE: Sure is.  Reading this, I get the same throbbing headache and
      feeling that Gene Roddenberry is doing 360s in his grave that
      I got when watching this very episode.

>        Rene looked at his clock and said, 

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: *sigh*... will this torment *never* end?

>                                           "Its time for me to depart
>for the stables, 

MIKE [as Rene, muttering]: At least the *horses* won't talk my ear off....

>                 would you like to come along?"

CROW [as Rene, whispering]: Please say no, please say no....

>        "Yes," Marrissa responded.

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: Damn.  Me and my big mouth...

>        "Can you ride?" Rene asked as they exited his room.

CROW [as Marrissa]: Are you kidding?  I've owned a Harley for years!

>        "I qualified as level seven on the Day-Lucas jockey
>qualifications scenario," Marrissa said.

MIKE: Yeah, but what was her Horsiyashi Maru time?

>        "That's only one below my qualifications," Rene said amazed.

TOM SERVO: Trust us, Rene, you get used to this kind of thing *real quick*
           around her....

>"What got a starship resident like you interested in horse racing?"

CROW [as Marrissa]: Ratliff spent his entire summer vacation reading
                    Dick Francis novels, I think.
MIKE [as Marrissa]: Besides, I have to be better than everybody at
                    *everything*.

>        "Well to tell the truth 

CROW [as game show announcer]: ... with your host, Garry Moore!
MIKE & TOM: [applause]

>                                I started out trying to prove that I was
>old enough to ride my own horse the next time my family went on a
>camping trip," Marrissa explained as they walked down stairs and out the
>door  "I was ten years old and determined to show that I was the best.
>So I asked for the hardest program.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: The holodeck made two foam blocks appear and told
                         me the objective was to genetically engineer a
                         virus that would transform me into a horse.

>                                     It took me two months to get past
>level two, and I just got to level seven last week."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: It got much easier once I found the cheat code!

>        "Then we don't have to worry about anything," Rene commented.
>        "Worry?" Marrissa asked.

CROW [as Marrissa]: What, me worry?

>        "We're short one rider this week," Rene said.  

TOM SERVO: Uh oh, here it comes... Marrissa wins the Preakness, the
           Belmont Stakes, *and* the Kentucky Derby all in the same
           weekend.  Pardon me while I toss my cookies.

>                                                       "Mike, 

MIKE: AAAAAHHHH!!! [Mike ducks down below the seats]
TOM SERVO: Mike!  What's wrong, buddy?  Snap out of it!
MIKE [coming back up]: I... I'm okay.  For a second there, I thought I was
                       a character in a Ratliff fanfic.  It was horrible...
                       horrible...

>                                                              the
>trainer, wants to test the horses to see how they function in a crowd.

CROW [as Rene]: So... can you be seventeen thousand people?

>Five horses aren't really enough to see how a horse runs, but six is a
>lot better."

MIKE [as Michael Palin]: Seven is *right* out.
TOM SERVO: Apparently horses increase on a logarithmic scale.

>
>        Rene arrived at Stargazer Stables' trainer's office.  The head
>trainer, Michael White 

MIKE [relieved]: THANK YOU, Ratliff, for picking any name but Nelson!
TOM SERVO: So the mayor of Cleveland is their horse trainer?

>                       was behind his desk, stitching a bridle.  He was
>man of about sixty with white hair.  

CROW [as trainer]: I've spent my life on this bridle... I toiled away my
                   years of sowing wild oats just so I could work on this,
                   my magnum opus.

>                                     He was wearing an old faded red
>sweat shirt 

TOM SERVO: The Starfleet Santa Squad!

>            with the words "U.S.S. Stargazer Engineering, Lesser is
>better" written across the front.  

MIKE: Could somebody please explain to me how that slogan makes any
      sense whatsoever?

>                                   "Reporting for duty sir," Rene
>announced.

CROW [as Rene]: And I want a rubber ducky and a Nintendo and a horsey --
                oh, wait, I guess I don't have to ask for that -- uh, and
                a 1/144 Saturn I-B model, and...

>        "You're not a Cadet yet, Rene," the man responded looking up
>from his work.

TOM SERVO [as Mike/Santa]: Let's see now... have you been fighting with
                           your parents again?

>        "Sorry Mike," Rene said.  "May I introduce my new cousin,
>Marrissa?"

MIKE: She's there to replace the old cousin he broke last week.

>        "Good afternoon, Marrissa," Mike responded.  

TOM SERVO [as Mike/Santa]: Wellll!  What would *you* like, little girl?
MIKE [as Marrissa]: Thanks, Santa, but I *take* what I want.

>                                                     "You said you might
>have a solution to our shortage of jockeys for today's test race, Rene?"

CROW [as Mike]: Buy some more underwear?  Very funny, Rene!

>       "Yes, Marrissa," Rene said.

TOM SERVO [as Mike]: Stop calling me Marrissa!

>        Mike surveyed the young girl.  

MIKE [as Mike]: So, Marrissa, do you approve or disapprove of the
                president's performance since he took office?

>                                       She was almost five feet tall,
>and her bearing was quite regal.  

CROW: There is something so "Logan's Run" about this scene.

>                                  Something about her reminded him of
>the Princess Royal of Great Britain 

MIKE: She was a deeply inbred, emotionally deranged, over-promoted doofus
      with delusions of grandeur... hey, wait a minute...
TOM SERVO: Too bad *this* princess isn't destined to die in France.

>                                    who had recently tried to purchase
>several of the stable's stock.  

CROW: But, even with junk bonds, she couldn't acquire enough stock to
      gain a controlling interest.

>                                Physically, Mike could see no reason why
>she couldn't ride horses, but more than that would be required before
>she rode his horses.  

TOM SERVO: She'd have to ride *him* first!
MIKE: Oh, ick...

>                      "Marrissa, do you have any riding experience?"
>Mike asked.

CROW [as Mike]: Have you brought your resume with you?

>        "I've been riding horses since I was eight, sir," Marrissa said.
>"I recently tested myself on the Day-Lucas program and received a rating
>of seven."

TOM SERVO: Great, we get a break from hearing her Kobayashi Maru scores
           and it turns into the same thing, different test.

>        "Can I look at those records?" Mike asked.  He had known only a
>couple at her age that had those qualifications.

MIKE [as Marrissa]: You *dare* to question my word, peasant?!  *Off* with 
                    his head!

>        "If you have a com link, I should be able to pull a copy from
>the Enterprise," Marrissa said.  

CROW: In the future, we'll *all* have fax machines!

>                                 Mike gestured over to a console in the
>back the office, nearly covered with paper.  

TOM SERVO: Aw, no, it's a Babylon 5 crossover.

>                                             Marrissa moved some of it
>aside and quickly made the necessary connections.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: H-T-T-P-colon-backslash-backslash-W-W-W-dot-
                    E-N-T-E-R-P-R-I-Z-E... no, no, E-N-T-I-R.... no, 
                    no, darn it!  Surfing the web sucks when you're a 
                    Ratliff character!

>                                                   She had mail, 

CROW [as AOL voice]: You've got mail!

>                                                                 but
>ignored it.  

TOM SERVO: Even the urgent notice from Interpol reporting that Mike White
           was wanted for running a child-murder ring.

>             "There you go sir."
>        "Marrissa, stop calling me sir," Mike ordered.  

CROW: What is she, Marcie from the Peanuts gang all of a sudden?
MIKE [as Perry White]: Don't call me chief!

>                                                        "I haven't been
>Chief Engineer on a starship for longer than you've been alive."  

TOM SERVO [as Mike]: And if it weren't for that horrible misunderstanding,
                     I'd *still* be cruising the galaxy instead of wasting
                     my life at these crummy stables sweeping up horse
                     apples!

>                                                                  He
>took her place at the console and looked over the record.  

CROW [as Mike]: Hmm... "Happiness Is A Warm Gun"... "Fool On The Hill"...
                "Hello Goodbye"... is this an omen or something?

>                                                           Her pose in
>the saddle was a natural one.  It showed no sign of artificial training.

MIKE: Oh come on, she's *way* too young for her saddle to be artificial,
      if you know what I mean.

>He liked that.  She controlled her horse, not letting it get away from
>her, 

TOM SERVO: Much like every conversation she's ever been in.

>     and she moved though the pack quite easily.

CROW: ... using her phaser to clear the path.

>        "Not bad," he commented after he finished reviewing the record.

MIKE: He gave it three stars and wrote a four paragraph critique for
      Rolling Stone magazine.

>"Marrissa, you'll ride the new filly, Lady Stargazer.  

TOM SERVO: Something tells me Marrissa's gonna feel right at home with a
           riding crop in her hand....

>                                                       Rene, I believe
>you like Macedonian."

MIKE [as Rene]: Oh, I *love* Macedonian, but I'll have to take some of
                that Pepcid AC first.

>        "Is Richard riding Warp Speed again?" Rene asked.

[Crow rhythmically beats his head against the chair] 
CROW: Why. *thump* Can't. *thump* There. *thump* Be. *thump* A. *thump*
      Single. *thump* Reference. *thump* In. *thump* This. *thump* Fic.
      *thump* That. *thump* Doesn't. *thump* Revolve. *thump* Around.
      *thump* Starships?! *thump* *thump* *thump*

>        "Yes."
>        "You really should let Isabelle try Warp Speed," Rene suggested.
>       "Rene, leave the assignments to me," Mike stated.

MIKE [as Mike]: Look, Rene, I don't tell you how to dull the senses of 
                everyone who tastes that anti-freeze your family tries
                to pass off as wine, and you don't tell me how to run the
                horsies, understand?
TOM SERVO: Never let your jockeys have any say in how they're going to
           race.

>        As Marrissa and Rene waited for their turns to be lead 

MIKE: Being the youngest, they had to wait until after all the adults
      were transmuted into lead.

>                                                               into the
>starter's gate, Rene told her about the others they would be racing.

CROW [as Rene]: Speed Racer, the cars from 'Pole Position', Turbo Teen,
                Wonder Wheels, and of course the animated 'Dukes of
                Hazzard'.  It's pretty unfair, but we all figured you'd
                win anyway.

>"In gate one is Warp Speed, ridden by Richard," Rene began.  "In two is
>Insignia, the horse that won the Preakness this year with our retired
>jockey Maurice aboard."

CROW [as Rene]: Some people call him the space cowboy, 'cause he speaks of
                the pompatus of love.

>        "I watched him win the Derby," Marrissa stated.  "But I thought
>this was just two-year-olds."

MIKE: No, Ratliff hasn't let his heroes be *that* young yet.

>        "Insignia is in to help push the horses it do better, 

TOM SERVO: What?  Run that by me again?

>                                                              and we
>don't have that many two year- olds," Rene said.  "Anyway, in gate three
>is Jean on In the Stars.  

CROW [as Rene]: Next to her is Lucy on In The Sky With Diamonds.

>                          Fourth is Mistress of the Stars ridden by
>Isabelle.  

MIKE: So why are all the horses named after Star Trek fanfics?

>           I'll be in the fifth gate, and you'll be in gate six."

TOM SERVO: International arrivals will be at gate seven; Northwest at
           gate eight.

>        "I'll try not to cut you off," Marrissa said, nervously.

CROW: Isn't that what John Bobbit's new wife said?

>        "You'll be lucky to stay within a length," 

MIKE [as Rene]: Unless I mean a furlong.
TOM SERVO: Which is two and a quarter rods, right?
MIKE: No, that's half a hogshead.

>                                                   Rene remarked as
>Macedonian was lead into the gate.

CROW: What was he out of the gate?  Gold?

>
>        Over by the finish line, Mike was joined by Captain Jean-Luc
>Picard.  "Which gate is Rene?" 

MIKE [as Mike]: Umm... Rene's a person, Captain.  I'm sorry, sir, we
                should have briefed you on this.

>                               he asked as he head his horse, Mercutio
>up to the rail.

TOM SERVO [snickering]: All I can picture is Jean-Luc head-butting his
                        horse over to the rail....

>        "He's in 5," Mike said.  "Your Marrissa is in 6."  

CROW [as Mike]: *My* Marrissa's in three; Siemer's Marrissa is in one;
                and that nice Mercer boy's Marrissa is in four.

>                                                           Then he
>pushed a button on his remote.  

MIKE: Maybe he's putting the story on fast forward?
TOM SERVO: Don't bet on it.

>                                The gates opened and he began calling
>the race.  "And they're off.  

CROW [as John Cleese]: It's Queen Victoria taking the lead followed
                       closely by Queen Victoria.  Queen Victoria is in
                       third with Queen Victoria coming up fast on the
                       outside....

>                              Macedonian leads out of the gate with Warp
>Speed 

MIKE: Huh.  A faster than light horse.  Who knew?

>      close behind.  Insignia's third followed by In the Stars and
>Mistress of the Stars.  

CROW: Now, Felix and Oscar's horse starts running out in the middle of
      things!

>                        Lady Stargazer brings up the rear.  

TOM SERVO: Far Fignewton, ridden by a pair of small white lab mice takes
           the lead!

>                                                            Lady
>Stargazer passes In the Stars and Mistress as they go around the turn.

MIKE: Santa's Little Helper runs out onto the track!

>On the backstretch, Insignia and Warp Speed are battling it out with
>Macedonian, a close third.  

CROW: And now Darren Stevens, turned into a horse by Andora, charges
      for the front of the pack!

>                            Coming on fast is Lady Stargazer, she takes
>third as they enter the finial turn.  

TOM SERVO [as race announcer]: And now the horses are racing up a church
                               steeple and over the finial!  Ladies and
                               gentlemen, I never would have thought this
                               was possible!

>                                      Down the stretch they come.  Lady
>Stargazer comes up on the outside of Warp Speed and Insignia who is
>falling back.  

CROW: And now Benji runs out and takes the lead!

>               As they come to the wire it's Lady Stargazer by a head
>over Warp Speed.  

MIKE: But they were all beaten by an English nanny who rode in on a
      carousel horse at the last second!

>                  Macedonian finishes third over Insignia. Mistress of
>the Stars edges out In the Stars for fifth.

CROW: This concludes another thrilling episode of Marrissa Can't Lose.
MIKE: Boy, there's nothing like a good racing subplot to move a story
      along, huh?
TOM SERVO: Yeah, look how well it worked in Sidehackers, Wild Rebels,
           Master Ninja II, Riding With Death....

>        "Good call, Mikey," Jean-Luc Picard remarked.  

CROW: I'm sorry, I can't see Jean-Luc calling *anyone* "Mikey".  Not even
      if interstellar peace depended on it.

>                                                       "It looks like we
>may have two good Derby horses this year."

MIKE: Only two horses?  That's going to be an awfully dull Kentucky Derby.
TOM SERVO: So... like your average Kentucky Derby, then?

>        "That makes my job even harder," Mike said.  "There seems to be
>a jockey shortage."

CROW: I think Ratliff should be made to write out the phrase
      "jockey shortage" over and over again until he understands
      the bad joke.

>        "Richard looks good," Jean-Luc commented.

MIKE [as effeminate Jean-Luc]: Just look at the hindquarters on *that* 
                               young stallion... hellooooo *sailor*!

>        "He pushes his horse a little too much," Mike said.  "And I'm
>afraid he's the local bully as well.  

CROW [as Robert]: He's already beat up two horses and put a third in the
                  hospital.

>                                      I've told him to stop and if he
>tries to beat up his sister Isabelle or Rene one more time, I'm firing
>him no matter how much I need a jockey."

TOM SERVO [TV announcer voice]: By day, he's a horse trainer.  By night, 
                                he crusades for justice.  Tune in this
                                Tuesday night for _Michael: For Hire_.
                                This time, there's no more horsing
                                around... with the *law*.

>        Then Marrissa came up leading Lady Stargazer.  "Did you see the
>race," She asked.

CROW: Well, he *was* standing at the finish line.  Some hint of the race
      *may* have drifted into his view....

>        "Yes I did, Marrissa," Jean-Luc replied.  "You rode well."
>Marrissa blushed.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Is that enough vague parental affection for you?  
                    I want to knock off for the week.
TOM SERVO: Let's get out of here, guys.

[Everyone gets up and leaves the theater]

[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]

[SOL]

[Tom Servo is standing on the control panel, wearing a cowboy outfit,
 complete with hat, shirt and chaps.  Crow is at his usual place, wearing
 a blonde wig and typing on a computer that has been set up on his side
 of the control panel.  Cheesy western music plays in the background.]

TOM SERVO: Well, ah reck'n it all started 'round about the time when
           Marrissa told Old Timer Mikey White that she really knew her
           stuff up there in the saddle and she should get a chance to
           try out one of the horses.  'Course she didn't mention that
           all her riding experience came from the merry-go-round at
           the county fair and she didn't really know thing one about
           riding a *real* horse, but she figured that when Mikey asked
           to see her qualifications on the computer, why she'd just hack
           the system and whip up a fake that was good enough to fool 'im.
           But you got to get up pretty early in the mornin' to fool Old
           Mikey, and he wasn't gonna be takin' no wooden nickels from no
           pint-sized pipsqueak no matter *how* good her Kobayashi Maru
           was!  No sir!

[Mike comes in from stage right, dressed as Mikey White and twirling a
 lasso.   He throws the lasso over Crow and pulls him away from the
 computer.  As Crow struggles in the lasso, Mike looks down at him and
 says...]  

MIKE [as Mikey]: So you think you know your way around horses, huh?  
                 Well, let me tell you what we're gonna do....

[Mike picks up a stick from the floor and starts scratching words in the
 floor behind the control panel.]

TOM SERVO: And as Marrissa watched Old Timer Mikey White scratch the
           words "Junior Kid's Crew Rodeo" in the dirt, she said...

CROW [as Marrissa, excited]: Say!  Now *that's* an idea!

[Mike takes the lasso off Crow and they both head offstage in opposite 
 directions.]

TOM SERVO: Well, before you know it, Marrissa got to talkin' with all
           her little friends, and then they started puttin' up posters,
           handin' out flyers and printin' up T-shirts, and before you
           could say "lickety split" we had ourselves a big ol' rodeo
           in town!  Marrissa even came up with a slogan for the whole
           thing....

[Two people out of camera view raise a banner to the ceiling that reads
 "Le Rodeo De La Crew D'Enfant: Just Horsing Around".]

TOM SERVO: Well, let me tell you, we had a turnout for this thing that
           was even bigger than the Jerry Lewis film festival!  And just
           about anybody who was anybody got a chance to ride!  First 
           there was Marrissa....

[Gypsy enters from stage left, dressed up as the Pony Express horse from
 "The Gunslinger".  Crow is on Gypsy's back wearing a blond wig and
 desperately trying to hold on as Gypsy keeps trying to buck him off.]

CROW [as Marrissa]: Ow!  Stop!  Cut it out, you stupid horse!  Don't you
                    know I've got a Kobayashi Maru score of twenty one oh
                    [Crow flies off Gypsy's back] THREEEEEEE... [Crow
                    crashes to the floor as Gypsy exits stage left]

TOM SERVO: Then we got Father Francis to give it a whirl....

[Gypsy enters from stage left with Crow on her back, dressed this time
 in a priest's outfit complete with white collar and Father Sarducci hat,
 and again trying to keep from being bucked off.]

CROW [as Francis]: Whoa!  Ouch!  Dear God, give me strength!  Dominus opus
                   immaculata [Crow flies off] in PATRIIIIIIIIIII... [Crow
                   crashes to the floor as Gypsy exits stage left]

TOM SERVO: Why, even the local bully tried to find out how long he could
           last up there in that saddle!

[Gypsy enters from stage left with Crow on her back, dressed this time in
 a leather jacket with a slicked back 50's tough guy hairdo.  Crow makes
 only inarticulate sounds of panic as he loses his grip and Gypsy bucks
 him off.  Crow gets back on his feet and faces Gypsy.]

CROW [as bully]: So you wanna play rough, huh?!  C'mon, horsie, let's go!
                 You and me!

[Crow throws a punch that knocks Gypsy cold, then walks away, whistling
 the theme to Blazing Saddles.]

TOM SERVO: Yup, we sure did have a grand old time that day!  And everyone
           wanted that grand prize so much, it's such a shame they all
           couldn't win....

[Mike comes in from stage right and Crow from stage left, dressed up as
 Father Francis.]

CROW [as Francis]: So, how did I do?

MIKE [as Mikey]: I'm sorry, Father, but your time just wasn't good enough.
                 You'll have to stay in the story.  [Crow looks dejected
                 as the commercial sign light flashes]  We'll be right
                 back.

[Mike hits the commercial sign light.]

[Commercials.]

[Inside the theater]

[Mike enters the theater carrying both Tom and Crow.  Mike puts Tom in
 his seat and then starts to lower Crow into his.]

CROW: Easy now, Mike, easy, watch those saddle sores... ahhh!  
      Thanks, Mike.  You're a life saver.

>Chapter Four
>Day Two
>Late Afternoon

TOM SERVO: Ever notice how some days seem like they're *never* going to
           be over?

>
>        Marrissa and Rene walked down a wide path in the forest beside
>the stables.  "How did you get interested in horses, Rene?" Marrissa
>asked.

MIKE [as Rene]: I checked and found out I was actually a twelve-year-old
                girl.

>        "At first it was just job to get my father off my back," Rene
>said.  "He kept pushing me to get a job.  

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: He kept trying to make me work in the coal mines and
                     garment sweatshops.

>                                          After a while though, I found
>myself enjoying it."

CROW: Once I found out the horses would lick all day if I dabbed a
      little peanut butter on--
MIKE: You are in *such* trouble, Mister.
CROW: On my neck!  Where it tickles!

>        "You're good," Marrissa said.  "You just shot out of the gate."

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: It's amazing what a little battery acid on a horse's
                     rear end can do!

>        "That's Macedonian.  He's always been fast out of the gate,"
>Rene said.  "He just lacks staying power.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: That's funny... Isabelle said the same thing about
                    *you*.

>                                           If you want to see a real
>jockey, look at Isabelle or Maurice."

TOM SERVO: If you want to see a real story, try something from your
           local library.

>        "If Isabelle is so good, why is she riding Mistress," Marrissa
>asked.

CROW: Good thing the volunteers who clean up oily beaches came along and
      just soaked up all the inflection and interest this chapter had,
      huh?

>        "Well I've been trying to get Mike to assign her to a better
>horse, but he won't listen," Rene said.  

MIKE [as Rene]: He keeps covering his ears and going: "La la la la la la
                la la, I can't *hear* you!"

>                                         "Our assignments have been
>stable since Jean was hired after the Belmont Stakes."

CROW: You get it?  Huh?  Stable?  Get it?
MIKE: Yeah, we...
CROW: 'Cause, you know, it's funny, 'cause...
TOM SERVO: No, it's not.
CROW: Oh.

>        They came to clearing with the swimming hole in it.  It was a
>rock lined pool, rather deep at one end.  Looked natural, but some how
>Marrissa knew it wasn't.  

MIKE: Being an unnatural creation herself, Marrissa had a sense for this
      kind of thing.

>                          A rock bowl filled with water on a hilltop
>wasn't natural in any forest, no matter how it looked.

TOM SERVO: I take it Steve-o's never heard of a caldera lake?
MIKE: You only get those in volcanic regions.
TOM SERVO: Details, details...

>        "It's swimming time," Rene said.

MIKE: Oh great, I was just starting to get over the nightmares from the
      last time this happened!  Thanks a *lot*, Ratliff!

>        "But I didn't bring my swimming suit," Marrissa protested.

CROW [leering]: I *know*.

>        "Neither did I," Rene said, pulling his shirt over his head.
>"Just strip down to your underwear.  That's what Isabelle does."

TOM SERVO: Mike?  Is it just me or is this starting to look more and
           more like the Deep South section of France?
MIKE: Either that or Michael Jackson's country home.

>
>        After stripping down to their underwear, Rene and Marrissa 

CROW: AAAH!  AAAH!  AAAH!
TOM SERVO: HURT!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!
MIKE: Ba..ba...bad, bad scene, bad bad bad, hurts, bad, bad hurt bad.

>                                                                   dived
>into the pool.  Rene's dive was clean, having almost no splash.

CROW: The water rejected his body and he was burned as a witch.

>Marrissa's, however, was more of a belly flop than a dive.  

TOM SERVO: Causing the gears of the universe to grind to a sudden halt and
           plunge everything into entropic heat death as Marrissa failed
           to accomplish something perfectly on the first try!

>                                                            When they
>both came up, 

CROW: Their necks had been broken by the rocks at the bottom of the
      shallow pool?
TOM SERVO: They had been eaten alive by piranhas?
MIKE: Nice try, guys.

>              Rene commented, "You need to work on that dive."
>        "I know," Marrissa stated, treading water, "but I haven't had
>the time.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: I figure it's quicker to walk on water anyway.

>           I'd rather spend my time in the water playing tag."
>        "Tag," Rene commented.  "That wouldn't be fair."

MIKE [burying his face in his hands]: This dialogue is like a designer
                                      perfume commercial that never ends...

>        "Oh, you're it," Marrissa said, swimming away.  

TOM SERVO [as Ralph Kramden]: Oh, BOY are you it, Norton!  You are *SO* it!

>                                                        They swam back
>and forth as first Marrissa then Rene was tagged.

CROW: The game kinda loses something when there's only two players,
      doesn't it?
MIKE: Maybe they're just looking for an excuse to touch each other in their
      wet underwear....
TOM SERVO [retching]: Echhh... thanks Mike... like I didn't have enough
                      trouble keeping my tuna RAM chip lunch down!

>        Suddenly from the shore came a voice.  

TOM SERVO [thick Southern accent]: Ah am the Angel of Vengeance.  The day
                                   of yer Judgement is at hand.

>                                               "Oh look, the lovers are
>playing tag again."  Rene and Marrissa stopped and looked to the edge of
>the swimming hole.  Richard was there with their clothes in his hands.

CROW: And if we knew who Richard was, we'd have an emotion about that.
MIKE: We do, he's the head bully.
TOM SERVO: The former head bully.

>"But Rene is with a new girl.  I wonder if Isabelle knows."
>        "She's my cousin," Rene returned.

MIKE [as Rene]: So hands off!  I saw her first!

>        "Keeping it in the family, I see," Richard sneered.

CROW: Well, if you can't keep it in your pants...

>        "Just put the clothes down and leave us alone," Rene pleaded.

MIKE [as Joe Besser]: Or I'll *harm* yooouuuu!

>Marrissa treaded water next to him, worried about her own clothes.

CROW: That's our Marrissa!  Always looking out for the welfare of others!

>        "In the pond maybe," Richard said, pulling out Rene's red shirt.

TOM SERVO: Suddenly, three phaser beams, ten photon torpedos, an
           antimatter monster and an asteroid smash into the red shirt!

>       "Not my jersey," Rene cried out.  The jersey joined Marrissa and
>Rene in the water.

CROW: MoooooOOOOOoooo!!  *splash*

>        Richard smiled.  "Too bad, it's all wet now." 

MIKE [as Nelson from The Simpsons]: HAA haaa!

>                                                      He pulled out
>Marrissa's black Enterprise T- shirt and tossed it in.
>        Marrissa called back, "I wouldn't have done that if I were you."

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: It *clearly* says: "machine wash warm, no
                         chlorine, no bleach, no detergent, no water,
                         don't touch it, put it down, walk away briskly."

>       "So the little girl is threatening me, now," Richard said.  "I'm
>scared now."

CROW: Little did he know, Marrissa had the evil Ratliff on her side.

>        Suddenly Richard found himself in a headlock.  From behind his
>left ear came his sister Isabelle's voice, "Drop the clothes, Rich."  

MIKE: I'll take "Words You Never Want To Hear Your Sister Say" for five
      hundred, Alex.

>                                                                      He
>dropped them.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: No, not *your* clothes!

>               Isabelle released her grip and Richard grabbed her arm
>and threw her.
>        "Ow," Isabelle exclaimed as landed on the rock edge of the
>swimming hole.  

TOM SERVO: [imitates Batman fight music]
MIKE: Bonk!
CROW: Wham!
MIKE: Zowie!
CROW: Ker-splat-t-t!

>                Meanwhile, Rene and Marrissa had climbed out of the
>swimming hole.  Rene rushed to Isabelle's side.  This left Marrissa to
>face Richard.

TOM SERVO: [imitates Classic Trek fight theme]

>        They lined up about a yard a part.  Richard was a little more
>than six foot tall.  His black hair was cropped short.  He was wearing
>the Stargazer Stables jockey outfit which consisted of black pants, and
>a red shirt with a back line across the upper chest and a white star
>like the command insignia of the old Enterprise in the center.  He was
>well muscled and had an air of arrogant confidence.

MIKE: OK, so Ratliff wants us to believe this big galoot is a *jockey*?
CROW: Either that, or the reincarnation of Captain Kirk.

>        Standing four feet ten in height, Marrissa was the opposite.

MIKE [as boxing announcer]: And in *this* corner...

>Her wet blond hair was slick to her back.  The water had made her
>underwear translucent which made her look naked and vulnerable.  

CROW: Which, of course, was why Rene suggested this swimming trip in
      the first place.

>                                                                 To
>Richard she was easy pickings.

TOM SERVO: I'd like to cheer Marrissa on... but we all know she's going
           to win, so what's the point?

>        "So you want to challenge me, little girl," Richard stated.

MIKE: THERE CAN BE ONLY *ONE*!
TOM SERVO: If we're lucky, there'll be none.

>        "I want you to dive in and retrieve Rene and my shirts,"
>Marrissa said.  "Fighting you is very low on my list of wants."

CROW [as Marrissa]: I'll have you quietly killed in the night.

>        Richard closed the distance between the two.  He placed his
>finger between her breasts 

MIKE [motioning arms slamming shut on a trap]: WWWWWHAM!
TOM SERVO: Nice booby trap.

>                           punctuating each word with a poke.  "I think
>you are just a little girl who wants to run home to her mommy."

CROW: If only Richard was holding a knife right now, he'd be a hero to
      millions.

>        That was the last straw.  

TOM SERVO: Now she finally found the needle she'd left in the haystack!

>                                  Marrissa grabbed his arm with both
>hands and swung around him around with all her strength.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: *grunt*  Uh... could you pretend this is affecting you
                    even a little bit?  Please?  *grunt*

>                                                          She released
>him on a course to the swimming hole.  He splashed into the water.  

CROW: True to form, Marrissa dunks another victim in liquid.  It
      wasn't strawberry juice, but she'd settle for water in a pinch.

>                                                                    As
>he landed, Marrissa whispered, 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Thank you, Ratliff, for giving me superhuman
                         strength.

>                               "I wish I could."

CROW: One cyanide tablet, that's all it takes.
[Mike and Tom look at Crow in disgust]
CROW: What?

>        Richard sputtered and splashed out of the water.  He rushed
>towards the little girl who stared out, her mind occupied on other
>things.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa, thinking]: Why *did* Yoda sound just like Grover?

>         Richard was stopped by a loud voice, "Richard Boucher, don't
>you dare lay a hand on my daughter."

MIKE [as Richard]: God?  Is that you again?

>        Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood astride a white stallion at the
>edge of the clearing.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: I'm so embarrassed.  Dad gets... confused.  He 
                    thinks he's in _Robin Hood: Men In Tights_ again.

>                       His brother Robert was beside him on a gray mare.

TOM SERVO: Who ain't what she used to be.

>"Mr. Boucher I see your bulling isn't limited to my son." Robert began.
>"You seem to like attacking your own sister and other little girls as
>well.  

MIKE [as Robert]: What are you, a wimp?  Bully some Romulans!  Some
                  Cardassians!  You've got Marrissa here, LEARN from her!

>       Your father may have dismissed your bullying as 'boys will be
>boys,' but I don't think he'll be able to dismiss this.  

CROW [as Robert]: Just wait until he finds out that you got your ass
                  kicked by a girl!

>                                                         I'm surprised
>you still have a job if this is how you normally act."

TOM SERVO: Hey, Michael J. Fox is no great actor either, but he still
           finds work!

>        "If I have anything to say about it, and as a thirty percent
>owner of the stables, I do, he just lost it," Jean-Luc Picard said.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Richard, you've just lost thirty percent of your job.
                    So there!

>        "You can't do that," Richard sputtered.

CROW [as Mayo]: DON'T YOU DO IT!  I GOT NOWHERE ELSE TO *GO*!!!

>        "Mikey was about to give you notice," Jean-Luc informed.  "You
>are a disgrace to the stables and the uniform you wear.  

MIKE [as Richard]: But it's not a uniform, it's a tourist T-shirt
                   promoting the community of Shipshewana, Indiana.

>                                                         Now go get
>those shirts you threw in the swimming hole.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: Then roll on the ground and bark like a dog!

>                                              Then we are going to the
>stables so you can clean out your locker."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Then you will be assigned to the Enterprise under
                    Marrissa's command.
CROW [as Richard]: Couldn't you be merciful and just lynch me?

>
>        Jean-Luc and young Richard met Robert at the vineyard gate.
>Together they set out to the Boucher's house.  

TOM SERVO: From whence they set forth, upon their perilous journey to the
           Crack of Doom, bearing the One Ring amongst them...

>                                               Richard walked ahead of
>the two men, his shoulders slumped and his head down.  Richard could
>almost hear his funeral march.

CROW: Miiiiike, the incidental music people are getting cocky again!  
MIKE [as Richard, muttering]: Crummy Elton John rewrites...

>                                Behind him Jean-Luc and Robert Picard
>walked stern- faced.
>        "How are the children?" Jean-Luc asked.

TOM SERVO [as Robert]: Quite good.  In fact, they just filed the paperwork
                       to have you relieved of duty, Jean-Luc!  Busy little
                       beavers, they are.

>        "Isabelle had a sprained ankle and a hairline fracture of her
>arm," Robert said.  "Rene is giving her tender loving care as usual.
>Marie is talking to Marrissa.  She's in her room crying."

MIKE [as Marrissa, sniffling]: Stupid old dad keeps upstaging me... *I'm*
                               supposed to deal out the retribution around
                               here!

>        "I'll have to talk to her when I get back," Jean-Luc commented.

TOM SERVO [as Hugh Beaumont]: I'll have a talk with the Beaver, dear.

>"I'm afraid she's not yet gotten over her parent's deaths.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: I mean, she's taking them personally somehow.

>                                                            Counselor
>Troi suggested that we get away from the ship.  

TOM SERVO [as Troi]: Captain, the crew has requested that you take your
                     little demon spawn as far away from the ship as
                     possible.

>                                                She said time and a
>little distraction should help her."

CROW: She couldn't think of anything more trivial to say.
MIKE: Well, nothing like a good fight and a near beating to take your
      mind off your troubles.

>        "I think Marrissa wasn't the only reason your Counselor Troi
>wanted you to take a vacation," Robert said.

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: All right, the crew hates me too!  There!  I said
                    it!  Are you happy now?!?

>        "Not this time, Robert," Jean-Luc replied as they turned into
>the Boucher's driveway.  

TOM SERVO: Suddenly Jean-Luc and Robert were flat and had a fresh blacktop
           coating.

>                         They came up to the door and Robert rang the
>bell.  It played the first nine notes of a funeral dirge.

CROW: It's the Addams family!
MIKE: Either that or Richard lives in a funeral home.

>        Mr. Boucher opened the door.  He was a tall stout man with
>thinning black hair.  

TOM SERVO [as Lurch]: Yooooraaaaang?

>                      He saw his son standing dejectedly in front of the
>two men and immediately his face took on a stern expression.

CROW [as Torgo]: YoU cAn'T sTaY hErE... tHe MaStEr WoUlD'nT aPpRoVe.

>        "Philippe, we'd like to talk to you about your son," Robert
>said.

MIKE [as Robert]: Do you have a safe place to hide him?  Marrissa's
                  ordered that he be dipped into concrete and turned
                  into a statue. 

>
>        The parlor had dark walnut paneling and it's one bay window was
>covered by red velvet curtains.  There was a long dark red couch with
>walnut arms and two matching chairs.  

CROW: So it *is* a funeral home.
TOM SERVO: Or the foyer of a French cat-house.

>                                      Mr. Boucher pointed at one of the
>chairs and Richard sat in it stiffly.  He took the other one and

MIKE: ... left the room with it.

>Jean-Luc and Robert sat on the couch.  "What are you accusing my son of
>doing?" Mr. Boucher asked.

CROW: Nobody accused anybody of anything yet!  Guilty conscience,
      Philippe?

>        "Your son has been bulling people," Jean-Luc stated.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: In fact, he's been downright cowing them into
                    submission.

>        "Boys will be boys," Mr. Boucher said.

TOM SERVO: Tell that to Ru Paul.

>        "Philippe, there is bullying, and then there is terrorizing.
>Your son has been doing the later," Robert replied.

CROW [as Philippe]: Look Chrome-Dome, my son's got a great career ahead of 
                    himself as a Bit Antagonist!  Where would you be 
                    without the Klingons, the Romulans and the Borg, huh?
                    In the same "pending a late night slot on the Sci-Fi
                    Channel" limbo that _Earth 2_'s in, *that's* where!

>        "Today he began by throwing Rene and my Marrissa's shirts in the
>swimming hole," Jean- Luc elaborated.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Then he took their chawing tobaccy and russled up
                    their grub.

>                                       "Then he threw your daughter
>after she got the clothes away from him.  And finally he took on my
>daughter.  If I hadn't arrived, 

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: ... those two girls would have cleaned his clock
                         but good!

>                                he could have done serious harm.
>Marrissa is only twelve."

CROW: Oh, I see, this was the year she was Rear Admiral in charge of the
      Intelligence Agency.

>        "How are they," Philippe Boucher said, suddenly concerned.

MIKE [as Philippe]: And are they pressing charges?

>        "Rene wasn't harmed, this time," Robert began.  

TOM SERVO [as Robert]: He'll live to wuss out again another day.

>                                                        "Isabelle broke
>her arm, and Marrissa was scared out of her wits.

MIKE: Yeah, someone might find out that she was rescued by an adult, and 
      then her career will be ruined.

>        "So Isabelle got hurt," Philippe remarked.  "What did I tell you
>about beating up on your sister, boy."  He glared at his son, who sunk
>back in his chair.

CROW [as Richard]: Um... no marks, sir?
MIKE [as Philippe]: Shut up.
CROW [as Richard]: No witnesses?
MIKE [as Philippe]: Shut up!
CROW [as Richard]: Oh yeah, you're the only one who gets to do it.
MIKE [as Philippe]: SHUT UP, I TELL YOU, *SHUT UP*!!!

>        "Not just this time," Robert said.  "I asked my wife how long
>this has been going on.  Marie tells me that she's been treating
>Isabelle and Rene for cuts and bruises for the better part of a year."

CROW: She must move really slowly.
TOM SERVO [as Robert]: She keeps telling them to go easy on the whips and
                       handcuffs, but do they listen?

>        "You have my assurance that Richard will be severely punished,"
>Mr. Boucher said.  

MIKE [as Philippe]: He'll go right to bed without any supper.  That'll
                    teach him!

>                   "If it wasn't for his job, I'd be shipping him off to
>military school."

ALL: [burst out laughing]
TOM SERVO: Sure, send him someplace where bullying has been elevated to
           an art form!  That'll cure him!
CROW: I hear it worked wonders for little Damien Thorne.

>        "I'm afraid Richard is no longer employed by Stargazer Stables,"
>Captain Picard said.  

MIKE [as Philippe]: But... his job was with Roy Rogers.

>                      "His attitude, unlike his sister's, has been less
>than satisfactory.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: He fails to share his cubby-hole in classroom
                         situations.

>                    He also conducted his last attack in uniform.  So he
>has been dismissed." 

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Whenever he's going to attack, he's got to strip first.
TOM SERVO: I didn't need to picture that, Crow.

>                     He turned to address Richard.  

MIKE [as Ed Norton]: Helloooo, ball!

>                                                    "When you wear a
>uniform, your conduct reflects on the whole organization.  You are
>expected to act accordingly."

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: So don't put any pledge pins on it or I'll slap
                         your fat face!

>        "Listen and learn from the Captain," Mr. Boucher said to the
>still cowering Richard. 

CROW [as Philippe]: He's been a better father to you in the past five
                    minutes than I ever have.

>                        "You'll be spending at least the next two years
>in uniform, and by God you'll learn to respect it."

MIKE [as Philippe]: And, by God, the upperclassmen there will show
                    you the *right* ways to terrorize people!
CROW: Or he'll become bitter, resentful, and hateful of authority while
      learning the way to develop, build, maintain, and use the most
      powerful weapons known in the Galaxy.
TOM SERVO: Or, God forbid, he just might join the Kid's Crew elite.

>        "If you'll excuse us, we better check on our own children again,
>now that you have been informed," Robert said.
>        "Can you keep Isabelle for the next couple weeks?" Philippe
>Boucher asked.  

MIKE [as Philippe]: We're kind of running out of space in the fruit
                    cellar, and with the preserves coming in, we just
                    don't have room to stack a girl, too.

>                "If Richard follows his usual path, he'll try to beat up
>Isabelle for revenge.  I had thought he had grown out of it, but I see
>he had just gotten better at hiding it.  

CROW [as Philippe]: Of course, this doesn't say much for my parenting
                    skills.

>                                         It's going to take me that long
>to get Richard away."
>        "I'll see to her while you handle your son," Robert said.

MIKE [as Philippe]: Thanks for taking Isabelle before Child Protection
                    could!

>
>Chapter Five
>Day Four
>Just before Noon
>Day Five

CROW: Wait a minute, what happened on Day Four?
MIKE: Must have been too exciting to write down.
TOM SERVO: Yes, even in the time-stream you can have unreferenced pointers.

>Early Morning
>
>        Marrissa walked into town alone.  She was tired of people trying
>to cheer her up.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: DAMN YOU ALL!  Can't a main Trek character get in a
                    good ANGST around here any more?  I'm SICK of everyone
                    trying to cut short my characterization just because
                    I'm being an introspective, moody BRAT!  Back off, you
                    meddling second bananas, back OFF!

>                  He parents were dead and no amount of fun was going to
>change that.  

TOM SERVO: So she decided to spend the rest of her life wearing black
           clothes, hanging out in coffee bars and smoking clove
           cigarettes.

>              After a little wandering, she found herself outside the
>church.  After looking at the white Gothic stone exterior, she pulled
>open the door and walked in.

MIKE: Tonight, on a very special episode of "Nothing Sacred"...
CROW: Oh cool.  This is the part where she puts on a mask, plays the organ 
      and lives in the cellar, isn't it?
TOM SERVO: That's an opera house, Crow.  I think you're vaguely circling
           the runway of Hunchback of Notre Dame.
CROW: Hunchback, Phantom... not much difference except the gargoyles don't 
      sing for the Phantom.

>        The entryway was paneled in a yellow gold wood, 

MIKE [as munchkin]: Follow the yellow gold wood!  Follow the yellow gold
                    wood!  Follow, follow, follow, follow...

>                                                        and the floor
>was a white and black chessboard pattern.  

CROW: She figured that would be the most likely place to find the bishop.
MIKE & TOM: [groans]

>                                           Marrissa continued though it
>to the sanctuary .

CROW: Quasimodo?  That's your cue!

>        She looked up to the dark blue ceiling which arched above her.

TOM SERVO: Watch this, guys... >LOOK ARCH

I only understood you as far as wanting to look.

TOM SERVO: >EXAMINE ARCH

>Each arch was gilded with gold and stars sparkled on it.  Her eyes were
>pulled down to the stain glass windows.  

CROW: OW!
MIKE: That's gotta hurt!
TOM SERVO: >EXAMINE WINDOWS

>                                         A shepherd carrying a lamb
>adorned one, a lady holding a baby with a halo another.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: That must be the guy who invented the Kobayashi Maru!

>                                                         Finally her
>attention was drawn to the altar.

CROW: Mike?  Am I going to hell if I say anything about a pentagram and
      goat entrails at this point?
MIKE: Definitely.
CROW: Just checking.
TOM SERVO: >EXAMINE ALTAR

>        It was backed with a house-like facade, with six candles on it.

MIKE: Apparently it's the church's sixth birthday.

>A robed man was encased in it's center, 

CROW [as man, muffled]: Help!  Get me out!  I'm suffocating in here!

>                                        and it was flanked by angels.

MIKE: Oooh, that must be "Charlie"!

>Three chairs were arranged below it.  Above it was an almost three
>dimensional painting of a man on a cross.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: You know, I never noticed this before, but Jesus
                    has *great* abs!
MIKE: What'll you bet that Ratliff has been describing the interior of
      Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering Church in Roanoke, Virginia?

>                                           A podium stood on the left.
>The altar itself was an intricately carved marble affair with a plain
>white linen cloth covering it.

CROW: How about a naked virgin and some black-robed cultists?
MIKE: *Don't* go there, Crow.
TOM SERVO: >QUIT

You have scored nothing out of a possible nothing.  This gives you the 
rank of Ratliff Story Reader.  Either way you look at it... you lost as
soon as you opened this file.

TOM SERVO: Pretty neat, huh?  I got Cambot to help out.
MIKE: Great, Tom, we're very impressed, now could you put the Zork Trilogy
      away and help *us* out?

>        While Marrissa had been taking in the scene, she had been
>walking forward, her heals clicking on the black and white tile.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: Wow!  Cartoon Network sponsored this chapel!
MIKE: Meanwhile, sounds of bingo playing filtered up from the basement.
TOM SERVO [muffled]: I-23... I-23...

>                                                                  She
>placed her hand on the edge of the pew which was made of the same wood
>as the paneling in the entryway.  

MIKE: Connor McLeod and the Kurgan were talking softly in another
      pew a little further down.

>                                  She pulled down the kneeler and
>kneeled in the pew.  

CROW [as sports announcer]: Marrissa takes a knee, and this football game
                            is over!

>                     Then remembering a gesture that she had once seen
>her mother do in the ship's chapel, she did the sign of the cross.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Spectacles, testicles... wait, that won't work
                         for me.
CROW [as Marrissa]: Are you there, God?  It's me, Marrissa Amber Flores
                    Picard.
MIKE [as recorded voice]: This is God.  All of my cherubim and seraphim
                          are busy right now, but your prayer is important
                          to us.  If you are praying from a touch-tone
                          pew, press the star key now.  Otherwise, stay on
                          the line and a representative will be with you
                          shortly.

>        As she kneeled, Marrissa's tears flowed.  

MIKE: Some prankster had glued jagged chunks of broken glass and scrap
      metal all over the kneeler.

>                                                  She remembered how her
>mother always insisted that she say her prayers before she went to bed.

CROW [as Ned Flanders]: ... 'cause the schools can't force you like they
                        should!

>She remembered her mother's laughter at her father's jokes.  

TOM SERVO: But she still didn't get the one about the two Polocks, the
           yak and the rubber tube.

>                                                             She
>remembered her father's cooking on camping trips.  

CROW: And how she had to have her stomach pumped every time she ate it.

>                                                   She remembered hiking
>and riding with her father in Yellowstone and Yosemite.  She remembered
>the loss.

MIKE: Yosemite 5, Yellowstone 3 in 11 innings.

>        Suddenly Marrissa heard a man's voice say, "What troubles you,
>child?" She looked up to discover a man in his sixties dressed in white.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: *gasp*  Colonel Sanders!  What are *you* doing
                          here?

>He was wearing a simple gold Latin cross over his chest.  A white skull
>cap covered his head.  Something about the man's kind expression made
>Marrissa willing to open up.

CROW [as Marrissa]: Are you one of those Jews for Jesus?

>        She slid over to allow the man to sit down, and began to talk,
>"A couple of weeks ago, my parents were killed on some mission.  They
>won't tell me where or how.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: And the secretary keeps disavowing any knowledge of
                    their actions.

>                             Only that it was painless and they didn't
>suffer.  

TOM SERVO: As if they could know.

>         I don't care about how . . . I just want to know why!"

MIKE [as man]: My child... the Lord moves in mysterious ways.  Your
               parents were called back to Him because He needed
               sacrificial lambs to further the plot.
CROW [as Marrissa]: So, in fact, it isn't so mysterious, is it Father?
MIKE [as man]: It's a mystery why He wanted to further *this* plot!

>        "That isn't why your crying now, is it?" the man asked.
>        "No, it's not," Marrissa sobbed.

TOM SERVO: And he knew that because...?

>        "Then why?"
>        "Because I've been having fun since my new father brought me
>here," Marrissa said in a rush.  "My parents just died.  I'm not
>supposed to be having fun any more."

CROW: One good Irish wake could have fixed this problem.

>        "You are young," the man responded. "Your parents would not want
>you to live your life in sorrow."

TOM SERVO [as man]: I'm sure they'd want you to live on in other fanfics,
                    bringing pain and misery to all who read them.

>        "How can to you say that," Marrissa said.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: And what the heck did *I* just say?

>                                                   "You didn't know my
>parents."

CROW [as Marrissa]: They *wanted* a life of misery and bitterness for me!

>        "I've know many parents since I entered the priesthood," the man
>said.  "I've never known a single one who wanted their children to grow
>up anything less than happy."

TOM SERVO: He's never worked with Child Services, methinks.

>        "Who are you," Marrissa asked.

MIKE [as man]: I'm *BATMAN*!

>        "I'm Father Gregory Carson," the man responded.  

CROW: Wait a minute... is this who I think it is?
TOM SERVO: Let's make sure.

>                                                         "And you are?"

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Queen of the Galaxy.  Surely you've heard of me.

>        "Marrissa Picard," Marrissa replied.  "You wouldn't be Pope
>Gregory would you?"
>        "Actually, yes," 

CROW: Sure!  Of *course* the Pope's there!  Who *else* is worthy to give
      spiritual advice to Marrissa the Great?!
MIKE: I guess he's just not drawing the crowds like he used to, huh?
TOM SERVO: Just tell me one thing... if *he's* here, does this mean that
           Jay Leno is in the Vatican right now?

>                          Father Gregory confirmed, 

CROW: Does that make him a minister of Confirmation?
MIKE & TOM: [groans]

>                                                    "but I'd prefer it if
>you'd call me Father Gregory.  I've really gotten feed up with all this
>Holy Father business. . ."

MIKE: Let me guess, he doesn't like titles.  Where have I heard this
      spiel before?
CROW: It figures, doesn't it?  A guy who's rumored to be infallible shows
      up in a story where so much is just plain *wrong*!
TOM SERVO: Ever notice how Marrissa gets to rub elbows with more
           celebrities than the kid from the Day at the Fair short? 

>        From behind him, came Father Frances's voice, 

ALL: [burst out laughing]
CROW [as Frances]: Hi, Your Holiness!  Just got back from the sex change
                   operation!

>                                                      completing the
>thought, "you just became Pope, not God."

MIKE: Won't he... uh, I mean, won't *she* be surprised to find out that 
      Greg's also the new God!
TOM SERVO: Wow, the Catholic church really loosened up in the last 400
           years!

>        "Father Frances, have you met Marrissa?" the Pope said, turning
>back to the priest in the pew behind them.

CROW [as Frances]: We've met... Marrissa, do you know what it's like to
                   feel like a woman trapped in a man's body?  Just be
                   glad you were *born* female!

>        "Her father and I are old acquaintances," Father Frances
>remarked.

MIKE [as Frances]: And now I can express my love for him the way I've
                   *always* wanted to!

>        "I should be going," Marrissa said.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Father Glen or Glenda over there is *really*
                         creeping me out....

>        "If you don't have anything, Marrissa," the Pope said.  "Father
>Frances and I would like you to join us."

CROW: Next on Jerry Springer, transsexual priests and the popes who
      love them!
MIKE [as Carson]: Frances needs someone to talk to about fashion tips 
                  and accessories... she's going to need a whole new
                  wardrobe, you know!

>        "I don't want to be intruding," Marrissa demurred.

CROW [as Marrissa]: No, really, that's okay, I'm sure the Father's, uh,
                    Mother's stitches need to heal up anyway, I'll just
                    be going now....

>        "You won't be," Father Frances responded.  "Gregory and I would
>enjoy the company.  We've heard each other's stories so many times that
>we can finish them after the first sentence.  It would be nice to have
>company as both a fresh audience and source of stories."

MIKE [as Frances]: You know how we girls just *love* to gossip!

>        "I really don't have much to tell," Marrissa said.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Not to *you*, anyway... Uh, I really have to 
                         get going now.... 

>        "Nonsense," Father Frances responded.  "You've spent your life
>on Starships.  Surely you have tales like none we earthbound priests
>do."

CROW [as Frances]: And speaking of tails, the plastic surgeons did a
                   *great* job of reshaping mine!  Wanna see?

>        "Have you been to LaRue's, Marrissa?" Pope Gregory asked.

MIKE [as Carson]: It's a nice little club where people like Frances can
                  feel welcome and accepted.

>        "No Father," Marrissa replied.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: No, Father, I *really don't* want to be around
                         this artificial woman any more!

>
>        After eating lunch with the two priests, Marrissa returned to
>the vineyard alone.  

MIKE: Her fragile psyche had been scarred for life by everything she'd
      seen and heard.
CROW: Suddenly I understand why she turned to compulsive conquest to
      ease the pain.

>                     She'd figured that by now the Captain has missed
>her.  She was right.  

ALL [reciting dully]: But at least his aim was improving....

>                      "Marrissa Amber, where have you been.  You missed
>lunch," Jean-Luc Picard said, with the practiced sternness of a Star
>Fleet Captain as she moved to open the door.  Her father was outside
>the door.  Marrissa was surprised that she hadn't seen him standing
>there.

CROW: Since everyone knows that Starfleet cadets have their door-noticing
      senses well-honed.

>        "Sorry sir," Marrissa said.

MIKE [as Marrissa]: It's just that I've had a thoroughly traumatizing
                    experience just now, and nothing in my life seems to
                    make any sense any more....

>        "Well Marie left some sandwich materials for you," Jean-Luc
>said.

CROW: "Sandwich materials"?  Who *talks* like that?
TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: There's a little polyester bread, some lovely
                         cotton mortadella and there might be a few slices
                         of spandex provolone left, check the cheese tray.

>        "I already ate," Marrissa replied.  "Father Frances and Pope
>Gregory invited me to eat with them."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: And now I think I've permanently lost my appetite.

>        "And I'm suppose to believe that you ate lunch with the Holy
>Father?" Jean Luc responded in disbelief.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Next you're going to tell me that Father Francis just
                    had a sex change!

>                                           "And I suppose Kai Opaka is
>coming to dinner."

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Noooo... not until the next DS9 crossover, *Dad*.
                         Geez, you are so *square*.

>        "I wouldn't know about the Kai," Father Frances said, from
>behind Jean-Luc.  "As for the Pope however, I can confirm that."

MIKE [slaps his forehead]: Dohhh!
ALL: Wah wah wah WAAAAAHHHHH...

>        "Father Frances, what brings you to the vineyard?" Jean-Luc
>asked.

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: And may I say what a *courageous* thing you've done,
                    expressing your true sexuality like this!  And in
                    front of the Pope, no less!

>        "I need more wine for Sunday's Masses," Father Frances said.

TOM SERVO [as Frances]: We're running short this month.  That Pope guy
                        drinks like a fish.

>"And I was sure no one would believe that Marrissa ate lunch with the
>Pope."

CROW [as Frances]: I've made it my life's work to follow Marrissa around
                   so I can confirm her outlandish tales.
MIKE: Some people obviously don't know who's writing this story.

>        "Point," Jean-Luc said.  

TOM SERVO: ... set and match.

>                                 "Marrissa, Isabelle wanted to talk to
>you."
>        "Aye, sir," Marrissa responded escaping into the house.

CROW [as Marrissa]: I can't *believe* that freak actually followed me
                    home....

>        "She calls you sir?" Father Frances said after the door closed
>behind Marrissa.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Yeah.  She's the direct lineal descendant of Marcie,
                    you know.

>        "Its what she's comfortable with," Jean-Luc said, dismissing the
>subject.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc] Personally, I consider it a marked improvement over
                   "Old Lighthouse Dome"....

>          "Now what type of wine where you thinking of?"
>        "Nothing expensive, just something ..."

MIKE [as Frances]: ... that would knock the socks off the organ lady at
                   fifty paces.

>

TOM SERVO: Somebody should tell Ratliff that a TV "fade-out" doesn't
           work well in a short story.

>        Marrissa knocked on the door of the room which Isabelle was
>staying.  "Enter," Isabelle's voice said.  

CROW [as voice]: The one you call Isabelle is gone... now the VOICE is
                 in charge!  Muahahahaha!

>                                           She opened the door.  The
>room Isabelle was staying in was furnished in much the same way as
>Marrissa's but in pink instead of white.  

MIKE: So, imagination and individuality are tightly rationed in the
      24th century?

>                                          Isabelle was arrayed on the
>bed like she had just plopped 

ALL: Eeeeewwww!

>                              down.  Her face had a dejected expression
>that extended to the rest of her body.

CROW: Ow.  That plastic surgery *really* didn't take.

>        "You look more depressed than I was," Marrissa stated.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: ... when I was cornered into having lunch with
                         the Catholic priesthood's answer to Mr. B Natural.

>                                                                "What
>happened?"

MIKE [as Isabelle]: Uh, we got into a fight with my brother Richard at
                    the swimming hole and he broke my arm?  *Remember*?
CROW: Actually, it's because Marrissa just walked in.

>        "My Dad was just here," Isabelle said.  

MIKE [as Isabelle, sniffling]: He's sending me to military school too.
                               He says the Citadel will really build my
                               character.

>                                                "I've got to stay here
>another week until Richard's new school opens.  Apparently he doesn't
>think I can fend for myself so he exiled me here."

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: I'd rather be home where I'd risk getting
                         assaulted by my sadistic thug of a brother.

>        "You could be exiled worse places," Marrissa said.  "Rua Penta,
>for example, known throughout the Galaxy as the alien's graveyard."

CROW [as Isabelle]: Oh, thank you, Marrissa.  Thinking about Klingon 
                    penal colonies *always* cheers me up....
TOM SERVO: Marrissa worked a suicide hotline for three weeks.  The death-
           toll doubled.

>        "That might be an improvement," Isabelle returned.

MIKE: Call me crazy, but I think Isabelle just *slammed* Jean-Luc's home
      sweet home in a *big* way!

>        "The vineyard isn't so bad," Marrissa said.  "The beds are
>comfortable.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: The beatings are irregular and light.

>              The Food is excellent.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: We've got an Arby's, and a Popeye's, *and* a Hardees.

>                                      Plus, you get to spend time with
>Rene, who obviously loves you."
>        "You really think Rene loves me?" Isabelle inquired.

MIKE [as Isabelle]: I thought he just hung around because the sex was so
                    great....

>        "Its written on his face every time you enter the room,"
>Marrissa said.  "I thought you knew."

CROW [as Marrissa]: He did have the Post-It notes on his forehead, 
                    after all.

>        "Great, a twelve year old can tell me the answer to a question
>I've been asking myself for ages," Isabelle said.  

TOM SERVO: Marrissa knows everything.  Get used to it.

>                                                   "I must be blind.
>You have no idea how many time I've asked myself if Rene really likes
>me."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Twenty six.  I counted.

>        "Have you ever told Rene that you love him?" Marrissa asked.
>        "Not really," Isabelle replied.

CROW [as Isabelle]: Because I intend to cruelly discard him like a used
                    Kleenex.

>        "If there is one thing I've learnt from the last month,"
>Marrissa began, 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: ... it's that reading one of these fanfics is
                         worse than spending a month at Rua Penta.

>                "its to tell the people you love while you still can.  I
>never said goodbye to my parents when they left.  I was too busy getting
>ready for my first command."  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: It was only of 17 starships, 49 destroyers, and 220
                    cargo and supply vessels, but I figured I'd stick it
                    out and get a *real* command later on.

>                              Tears began to form in Marrissa's eyes.
>        "You couldn't have been in command," Isabelle said.  "You're
>only twelve."

CROW: Ah, the naivete of non-Kid's Crew youth.

>        "That can be an advantage sometimes," 

MIKE: Like...?
TOM SERVO: Like when the other ship's commanded by an eight-year-old.

>                                              Marrissa replied
>forgetting her momentary sadness as she talked.  "For instance there was
>this Cardassian Gul 

CROW [as seagull]: Caw!  Caw!
TOM SERVO: Jonathan Livingston Dukat.

>                    who decided that the Enterprise saucer section under
>my command was an easy target.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Little did he know he was only a pawn in Stephen
                    Ratliff's twisted universe.

>                                He failed to consider the tactical
>officer who gets caught for playing video games in class."  Marrissa
>smiled.
>        "What did you do to him?" Isabelle asked.

CROW [as Marrissa]: I challenged him to a video game.

>        "I disabled his ship and had an inscription carved on his hull."

TOM SERVO: Say it the way you mean it... you entered your initials next
           to the high score.

>       "What?"
>        "'I was beaten by a bunch of kids.'" Marrissa concluded.

MIKE [as Marrissa]: I was going to sign "Neener neener neener!" right next
                    to it, but that would have been too much like gloating.

>        "You carved that in his hull," Isabelle exclaimed.  "What
>possessed you to do that?"

CROW: You said it yourself.  She's possessed!

>        "I know it was stupid, 

TOM SERVO: [as Marrissa]: All seventeen trillion people in the galaxy have
                          reminded me about how stupid it was.

>                               but I wanted to be remembered and that
>Gul had made me mad," Marrissa responded.

CROW: It's that kind of maturity and good judgment that convinced Starfleet
      that she belonged in the captain's chair.

>        There was a knock on Isabelle's open door.  The two girls turned
>to find 

MIKE: ... their mystery date!
CROW & TOM: [hum the theme for the Mystery Date game]

>        Rene standing in the doorway.  "It's time for us to go to the
>Stables, Belle."

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: It's time for you to ride down to the castle and meet
                     the Beast.

>        "I'll be right down, Rene," Isabelle said.  "I have to change."

CROW: Apparently her sprained ankle and broken arm healed right up!

>
>        Marrissa sat out under an oak tree outside the vineyard house.

MIKE: Drunk again.

>It was early morning.  The sun was rising over the grape vine covered
>hillsides.  A light fog hugged the bases of the hills, 

TOM SERVO: But the hills later charged them with meteorological harassment.

>                                                       making them seem
>to float.  She looked at the golden glow that ran along the hillsides
>with wonder.

CROW [as Marrissa]: Wow, this blotter acid is really *good*!
MIKE [as game show announcer]: And now, it's time to play that fun, new
                               game, _Dangle that Participle_!

>        "Good Morning Marrissa," 

TOM SERVO: With Charlie Gibson and Lisa McRee.
CROW: Lisa, you've done better.

>                                 Jean-Luc said, as he came up beside
>her.  "Up early for a change, I see."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Does Marrissa-wissa need her didee changied?  Yes she
                    does!  Yes she does!
CROW: Mike, don't *ever* do that again.

>        "It's not often that I'm on a planet," Marrissa explained.  "So
>I 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: ... wander around in a complete fog calling out
                         "computer" at random intervals and wondering how
                         to fulfill my basic survival needs when they
                         aren't all met automatically by a replicator.

>  try to see at least one sunrise and sunset.  

MIKE: She could just spend an hour in Ten Forward and see both.
TOM SERVO: It's not the same.

>                                               It's a lot easier to get
>up for a sunrise when you aren't sleeping on a really soft and
>comfortable bed, though."

CROW: Fortunately, discomfort is all part of the service at Chez Picard!
      Where the fetid, squalid conditions make you yearn for the comforts
      of the great outdoors!  Three locations to serve you, conveniently
      located next to the airport, swamp and maximum security prison!

>        "True.  Are you enjoying your vacation?" Jean-Luc asked.

MIKE [as Marrissa, sarcastically]: Oh suuure.  Drinking in the wonders of
                                   the local T-shirt shop, getting ogled
                                   by my cousin and fending off bullies
                                   at the swimming hole, getting dragged
                                   off to lunch with Father Frank-N-
                                   Furter... what's not to enjoy?

>        "Yes, but I still want to get back to the Enterprise soon,"
>Marrissa said.  "The sunrise maybe grand, but I miss 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: ... the sweat of panicked subordinates and the
                         smell of phaser-cooked flesh.

>                                                     the stars streaking
>by my bedroom window."

CROW [as Marrissa]: Look, there goes Pierce Brosnan!  And Tony Danza... 
                    AIII!  I'm *blind*!

>        "The stars are a great pull on your soul, but it is comforting
>to have a planet to come home to," Jean-Luc replied.

MIKE: When nerds try to get poetic.
TOM SERVO: I'm sure the Romulans will feel the same way a few weeks after
           Jean-Luc goes comatose.

>        "I've never really felt at home on a planet," Marrissa said.
>"I've lived on Galaxy Class Starships since I was two 

CROW: Which is tricky, 'cause they weren't invented until she was four.

>                                                      and can't remember
>much before that.  Planets have always been places to visit.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: ... and dream of annexing into my interstellar empire
                    someday.

>                                                              I live in
>the stars."

CROW: Somehow a puffed up ball of hot gas seems like a very appropriate
      place for her to live, doesn't it?
TOM SERVO [singing]: ... her back yard will probably be Mars, she will ride
                     a crater scooter and eat off her computer...
MIKE: I think I know a little robot who's been listening to my Moxy
      Fruvous CD.

>        "Perhaps someday you will find a planet to call home," Jean-Luc
>responded.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa, singing]: Sooooome DAY my WORLD will COME.... 

>            "Meanwhile, Admiral Necheyev is cutting our vacation short.
>She wants me to evaluate a ship load of cadets.  We have to leave Monday
>morning."

MIKE: Oh great... if we have to do "Cadet Cruise" again, I'm gonna vomit.

[Everyone gets up and starts to leave.]

CROW: Um, Mike?
MIKE: Yes Crow?
CROW: WHY IS HE BEING PULLED OFF OF *VACATION* TO SERVE THE EQUIVALENT OF
      GIVING A *MERIT BADGE TEST*?!
MIKE: Shhhh... think of nice things... lollipops... cherry cola...
CROW: ... the tortured screams of the cadets as they're fed through a
      paper shredder by an insufficiently vacationed Picard...
MIKE: A little dark, but you've got the right general idea.

[Everyone exits the theater.]

[Commercials.]

[SOL]

[A blackboard has been mounted in front of the hexfield viewscreen, and the 
 words: "Project Due: What I Did On My Summer Vacation" are written on it 
 in chalk.  A teacher's desk sits in front of the blackboard, and Gypsy is 
 standing in front of the desk wearing a costume that makes her look like
 a school teacher.  A portable movie screen has been erected in front of
 the main doors, and Crow stands in front of the screen wearing a blonde
 wig and holding a sheaf of papers.  A slide show projector is sitting on
 the control panel and pointing at the movie screen.  Mike and Tom Servo
 are seated at student desks in front of the control panel.  Their heads
 are lying on their desks, and they are snoring softly.]

CROW [as Marrissa]: ... and that is how I spent my summer vacation.
                    The End.

GYPSY: Good job, Marrissa!  That was a *wonderful* essay!  And the 
       slide show you brought along really made the story come alive!
       Excellent work!  Now class, I want you all to... class?  Class?!
       [pause]  WAKE UP!!!  [Mike and Tom are startled awake by the
       noise.]  Now since you all have been paying such *close attention*
       to Marrissa's lovely essay, I'm *sure* you all have questions you'd
       like to ask about her vacation.  Tom, why don't we start with you?

TOM SERVO: Uh, that's okay, Miss Gypsy.  I'll let someone else go first.

GYPSY: No really, Tom, I *insist*.

TOM SERVO: Well, I guess there was *one* thing I was wondering about...
           Marrissa, how come your new dad never took you to see anything
           *good* in France?  I mean, he had a shuttlecraft available and
           all, and you keep telling us how he's really into culture and
           history and stuff.  So how come he didn't show you the Arc 
           D'Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre or anything like
           that?

CROW [as Marrissa]: Well, actually the shuttlecraft was a rental and Dad
                    had to return it right away.  Enterprise Rent-A-Shuttle
                    is very strict about that kind of thing.  And not many
                    people know about this, but the Labarre T-shirt shop
                    is actually a site of *great* cultural significance.
                    Philippe has a *huge* collection of historical T-shirts
                    that he keeps on display in glass cases.  He's got
                    T-shirts that were worn by Charles DeGaulle, Napoleon,
                    Cardinal Richelieu... it was quite an experience,
                    and I'm sorry I left that part out of my essay.

GYPSY: Does anyone else have questions for Marrissa?  [Mike raises his hand]
       Yes, Mike?

MIKE: Marrissa, how come your new family keeps antique books lying around
      on a shelf for any doofus to damage or steal?

CROW [as Marrissa]: My family obviously believes that the knowledge and
                    wisdom that those 400 year old children's books
                    contain should be shared openly with anyone who wants
                    to learn from them.

MIKE: So why didn't he have computerized versions for you to read so the
      originals wouldn't get damaged?

CROW [as Marrissa]: Uh, Miss Gypsy?  Isn't it someone else's turn to ask
                    a question?

GYPSY: Right you are, Marrissa.  [Tom starts jerking his body to the left
       so that his right arm flies upwards and then flops back down again.]
       Tom, I believe you were trying to raise your hand?

TOM SERVO: What was the Pope doing wandering around a rural French village
           without any entourage, bodyguards, or news coverage?

CROW [as Marrissa]: Actually there's a simple explanation for that.  You
                    see, the Pope didn't get the publicity he deserved 
                    because all the reporters flew over to America to cover
                    another sex scandal in the White House.  Poor guy.  So 
                    there weren't any crowds following him around, so he
                    didn't need his handlers and bodyguards.

GYPSY: Any other questions?  [Mike raises his hand]  Mike?

MIKE: Isn't it illegal for jockeys to be under 18?

CROW [as Marrissa]: That cruel prejudice was ended in France when they
                    passed the Ratliff Bill into law.  Now, who else has
                    a question?  [Mike and Tom raise their hands and say
                    "Marrissa?" over and over again.]  Yes, you in the
                    back with the press credentials?

[Mike quickly reaches under his seat and brings out a little fedora hat
 with a card in the band that says "PRESS".  He puts the hat on Tom Servo
 as he stands up.]

TOM SERVO: Tom Servo, from Satellite News.  Marrissa, I think all of our
           readers will be curious to know how exactly you managed to
           throw an older, heavier and stronger person like Richard Boucher
           into a swimming hole without any help from inertia or momentum.
           Can you tell us exactly how you accomplished this?

CROW [as Marrissa]: Well, didn't I mention that I took extensive jujitsu
                    lessons in gym class?  [Mike and Tom shake their
                    heads.]  How about the anabolic steroids I had for
                    breakfast that morning?  [Mike and Tom shake their
                    heads again.]  Uh, next question please.

[Mike takes another "PRESS" hat out from under his seat, puts it on his
 head and stands up.]

MIKE: Mike Nelson, from Binding Polymer.  Speaking of Richard Boucher,
      what in the heck was your family's horse trainer smoking when he
      gave Richard a job as a jockey?  I know Mr. White said that he
      was short on jockeys, but how do you explain him giving that job
      to a six foot tall bodybuilder?

CROW [as Marrissa]: You should see the size of his horse.  Anyone else?

[Mike takes both the press hats off as Tom stands up and begins to pace in
 front of the desks like a prosecutor in a courtroom.]

TOM SERVO: Ms. Picard... I'm confused about just one little detail.
           So could you please tell me... just how stupid do you think
           we are?!

MIKE [standing up]: Objection, Miss Gypsy!  Calls for speculation!

GYPSY: Sustained.  [Mike sits down.]

TOM SERVO: You've told us a story here today with more holes in it than a
           case of Life Savers, a story that no one in his or her right
           mind could *possibly* believe!  I put it to you, Marrissa Amber
           Flores Picard... if that *is* your real name... that you have
           attempted to *deceive* us by fabricating a fantastic and
           grandiose story of vacation adventures in order to get an A
           on this project, when all along you *really* spent your entire
           vacation on a starship playing the holodeck version of Starfleet
           Academy with your little friends.  *Isn't that true*?!

CROW [as Marrissa, hysterically]: All right!  I admit it!  It's all a lie!
                                  My new dad had some slides lying around
                                  from his visits back home, and I made up
                                  a story to fit the pictures!  None of it
                                  was true!  Is that what you wanted to
                                  hear?!  [Crow breaks down and cries.]

TOM SERVO [smugly]: No further questions.  [Tom sits back down.]

MIKE [standing up]: Miss Gypsy, we move that all charges against Marrissa
                    be dismissed because she was only following the
                    dictates of her conscience and this school has a
                    long-standing tradition of cheating to get ahead.

GYPSY: Agreed.  Marrissa gets an A on her project, and she is free to go.
       [Crow celebrates the victory while Tom shakes his head in disgust.
       Just then, lights flash, buzzers buzz and pandemonium erupts as
       Ratliff sign is signalled.]  Counsel will now adjourn to the theater
       for Ratliff sign!  [Gypsy bangs her head on her desk like a gavel
       as the movie screen gets moved away from the doors.]

[..6..]
[..5..]
[..4..]
[..3..]
[..2..]
[..1..]

[Inside the theater]

TOM SERVO: Trying to prosecute Marrissa... what was I *thinking*?
MIKE: There'll be other cases, Tom.

[Everyone sits down]
           
>Note: See how many referances to ASC Group members you can find in this
>chapter. (there are at least 3)

CROW: And when you're done with that, see if you can find anyone who
      gives a damn.

>
>Chapter Six
>Interlude and the Kentucky Derby

TOM SERVO: ... in D minor.

>
>        After spending almost a two weeks 

CROW: What, is Ratliff picking up an Italian accent all of a sudden?
MIKE [as Lawrence Welk]: And a one, and a two...

>                                          at the Picard Family Vineyard,
>Marrissa and Jean-Luc Picard left to return to the Enterprise, by way of
>a cadet cruise on the Maine.  

TOM SERVO: Oh yeah... I remember the Maine!
MIKE & CROW: [groans]

>                              Marrissa remembered her time in France
>with fondness.  She wrote to her cousin Rene and his girlfriend Isabelle
>weekly.

MIKE: Ratliff, on the other hand, wrote about it weakly.

>        Meanwhile, Marrissa entered Star Fleet with the field
>rank of Ensign.  She had many adventures before being promoted to
>Lieutenant junior grade.  

TOM SERVO: ... later that afternoon.

>                          She was quite amused when she discovered that
>her new rank was not a temporary rank, like her Ensign's rank had been.

CROW: And *boy* was her rank not temporary.  Why didn't they put showers
      on Galaxy-class starships?
MIKE: Yeah, those premature promotions, what a laugh riot.

>
>        Warp Speed and Lady Stargazer began their racing career as
>two-year-olds.  

TOM SERVO: I'm surprised they waited *that* long, knowing who wrote this 
           story.

>                In their first race, the Star Fleet Invitational (only
>stables owned by Star Fleet members or former members invited) 

CROW: And we *all* know how popular horse racing was with those Starfleet
      people, right?

>                                                               finishing
>one two.  

MIKE: As opposed to first and second?

>          Rene rode Warp Speed, and Isabelle rode Lady Stargazer.  They
>alternated winning in their next seven starts.  

CROW: They began throwing the matches for each other.  At this point, 
      they knew that they were deep in love.

>                                                Finally it was time for
>the Kentucky Derby.  

MIKE: What state do they hold that race in, anyway?

>                     Since the Enterprise was out cruising 

CROW: ... for chicks.

>                                                           near the
>Romulan border, Jean-Luc and Marrissa were unable to see it in person.

TOM SERVO: So they had to catch it on Pay-per-view.

>
>        Commander William T. Riker entered Holodeck Two.  

MIKE [as computer]: Holodeck simulation titled "Boogie Nights" has been
                    programmed.  You may enter when ready.

>                                                          It was
>programmed to mimic a 

CROW: ... sleazy 70's singles bar.

>                      box in the Skye Terrace at Churchill Downs.

TOM SERVO: Not Louisville, Kentucky, but an incredible simulation!

>Captain Picard was seated by his daughter, who had her best friend Clara
>was next to her.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: If you're good, Clara, and don't fidget and stay quiet 
                    the whole way through, I might consider taking the lock
                    off your quarters during off-duty hours.

>                  Counselor Troi and Doctor Crusher were standing by the
>rail 

CROW: ... gulping down one mint julep after another.

>     in the front with binoculars, looking at the jockeys 

TOM SERVO: ... butts.

>                                                          aboard there
>horses.  Worf was over to one side, reading the Daily Racing Form.  

MIKE [as Worf]: Losing Alexander's college fund on a bad pick would be
                *without* honor!

>                                                                    Data
>was talking to Geordi in the back of the box.
>        Captain Picard looked back to see who had entered.  

CROW: Just the crewmembers who have agents, good.

>                                                            "Glad to you
>could come, Number One," he said.

TOM SERVO [as Riker]: Nice to hear total gibberish from you too, sir.

>        "I had to make sure Beta Shift had reported in," Riker
>explained.  

MIKE: Was he afraid they'd forget they had to run the ship?

>            "I assume you are rooting for Warp Speed."
>        "He is, I like Lady Stargazer," Marrissa interrupted.

CROW [as Riker, muttering]: I believe I was talking to the *captain*, Miss
                            Buttinski....

>        "They both come from the same stables," Picard said.  "Why she
>favors Lady over their cousin's ride I don't know."
>        "I've ridden Lady Stargazer," Marrissa said.  "She's faster and
>Isabelle is a better Jockey."

TOM SERVO: Plus Isabelle told Rene that if he really loved her, he'd lose
           to her when it counted.

>        "Is that your opinion?" Picard asked.
>        "No even Rene will tell you that Isabelle is better," Marrissa
>said.  

CROW: Mr. Unbiased Opinion himself.
MIKE: So it *is* her opinion, she just shares it with Rene.

>       "And you've seen Lady beat Warp."
>        "Worf, who do you favor?" Riker asked.
>        "Code of Honor from Kah'less Stables," Worf stated.  

CROW: Gosh, what an unpredictable choice.  With such an unpredictable name.
TOM SERVO: You know, I wonder how ol' blood-n-guts Kah'less would react if
           he knew his name was being used on a stable.

>                                                             "He won the
>Santa Anita Derby."
>        Suddenly trumpets began to play "My Old Kentucky Home."  When
>the tune ended, the horses began to stream onto the track.  

ALL: EEEWWWWW!!!

>                                                            "Mister
>Data, analyst of the horses as they come out please."

MIKE: So who's talking here?
CROW: And when did Data turn into a horse psychiatrist?

>        "In the post position, is From the Stars from Calumet Farm,"
>Data began. "No wins in five starts.  Jockey Ryan James is a five year
>veteran."

TOM SERVO [as Data]: The coach has been threatening to bench him if he
                     doesn't start putting more points on the board.

>        "In the second gate is Quarterdeck Breed from Kirk Stables.  He
>has one win in six starts.  Jockey Sirvok won last year's Belmont Stakes
>aboard Vulcan's Glory."

MIKE: *sigh*  Looks like we've been blindsided by an introduction 
      sequence, guys.
CROW: Ratliff thought he'd try an equestrian version this time around.

>        "Cheating Insignia out of a Triple Crown," Picard interrupted.
>        "I was unaware of any cheating on behalf of Ambassador Spock's
>horse," Data said.

TOM SERVO [as Data]: I thought the horse was faithfully married, sir.

>        "Never mind, Data."

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Remind me to smack you around later.

>        "Aye sir.  In gate three is Warp Speed from Stargazer Stables.
>He has won four of his last eight.  Rene Picard is a first year jockey."

MIKE: But a third level half-dwarf Magic User.

>       "Romulan Dawn is in gate four.  He has two wins in seven starts.
>Neale Davidson, from Silicon Stables, 

TOM SERVO: ... where all the horses are made out of computer chips.

>                                      is a ten year veteran."
>        "Viper from Greenhill Farm is in gate five.  

MIKE: Next to him, we have Snoopy from the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm.

>                                                     He has three wins
>in eight starts.  Timothy Epperly is a rookie jockey."
>        "Lady Stargazer from Stargazer Stables is in the sixth gate.
>She has four wins in eight starts and is the only filly in the field.

CROW: So all the other horses are probably going to hit on her a lot.

>Her jockey, Isabelle Boucher, is also a rookie."
>        "In the seventh gate is Code of Honor owned by the Klingon
>Ambassador.  Code of Honor has two wins in four starts.  

TOM SERVO [as Data]: But in three of those races there weren't any
                     opponents.

>                                                         His jockey,
>Korrath, is a fifteen year veteran."
>        "Gate eight holds Prime Directive from Kansas State Farm.  

MIKE [as Data]: It's forbidden for him to interfere with the natural
                development of the race.

>                                                                   He
>has four wins in four starts. Jockey Joe Young is a five year veteran."

CROW: Mike?  Remember how we said Ratliff needed to think out the
      details of his stories more, so each character's personal story
      remains well-defined?
MIKE: Yeah?
CROW: Can we change our minds?

>        "Harriman's Redemption, ridden by Tod Wels, is in gate nine.  He
>has a win in five starts."

TOM SERVO: Looks like Ratliff's paying for college by renting out ad space
           to his fellow a.s.c. fanfic writers.

>        "Kirk's Bane from Styles Stables is in the tenth gate.  

CROW [as Data]: He used to be named Cheesy Toupee.

>                                                                Mark
>Green has ridden him to three wins in five starts."
>        "Vengeful Return has scratched."

MIKE: Maybe he can sink the six ball to make up for it.

>        "Mister Data, any interesting facts on the field?" Picard asked.

CROW: Better question: Is there anything interesting *anywhere* in this
      story?!
TOM SERVO: Come on, Ratliff!  Blow up a galaxy or something!

>       "This is the youngest field of jockeys to be assembled in a
>hundred years.  A filly has never won the triple crown, but has won the
>Derby twenty times," Data informed as the last horse entered the gate.

MIKE: Ever notice how Ratliff cheapens and demeans everything he touches?
      He takes a marvelously complex, sentient android and reduces him to
      spouting sports trivia.  He probably uses his cell phone to crack
      nuts.

>        "Mister Data, will you call the race for us?" Picard asked.

CROW [as Data]: Soooooooouie!  Sou, sou, sooooouie!  Race race race!
                Come here, race!

>        "Aye sir," Data said.  The bell rang, and Data began calling.

TOM SERVO: Get out!  *The calls are coming from inside the android*!

>"And they are off.  Warp Speed leads out of the gate with Quarterdeck
>close behind.  

MIKE: Audience goes out to get a sandwich.

>               At the quarter pole, Warp Speed leads with Romulan Dawn
>close behind.  

CROW: Lettuce takes the lead by a head!

>               Viper has failed to exit the gate.  Lady Stargazer is
>coming on strong.  

TOM SERVO [as Lady]: Hey handsome, buy a filly a drink?
MIKE: And Dolly Parton is way out in front!

>                   Into the turn Warp Speed leads with a battle for
>second shaping up between Quarterdeck, Romulan, and Lady.  

CROW: But look!  Here comes Tomato to catch-up!
TOM SERVO: Don King leads by a hair!

>                                                           On the as
>they come down the backstretch, Lady Stargazer pulls ahead of Romulan
>and Quarterdeck, who continue to fight it out for third.  

MIKE: Look out, folks, we're on the edge of drama here.
CROW: And it's Outside on the inside, followed by Inside on the outside!

>                                                          Code of Honor
>holds fifth with Directive, Harriman, and Kirk's fighting for sixth.

TOM SERVO: And my VW Bug's stuck in first!

>Lady Stargazer pulls along side Warp Speed as they enter the final turn.
>Neck and neck they go around the turn.  

CROW: What's this?  Now they're necking!
MIKE: And Barbra Streisand leads by a nose!

>                                        A length back, Romulan Dawn has
>a head 

TOM SERVO: I should hope so... he'd have a hard time racing if he didn't!

>       on Quarterdeck Breed.  Down the stretch they come.  

MIKE: Where they stops, nobody knows.

>                                                           Lady and Warp
>are battling in out for the lead, as they approach the wire.  

CROW: The razor-sharp wire slices their heads clean off as it catches
      them at the neck!  Oh, the carnage!

>                                                              It's Lady
>Stargazer by a nose.  The judges have signaled a photo finish.  

TOM SERVO: But the lens cap was still on... DOHHH!!!

>                                                                Warp
>Speed finishes second followed by Romulan Dawn a half a length back.

CROW: And coming in last, it's...
ALL [singsong]: Beatlebaum!
MIKE: Good run, guys!  Now don't let me catch you using that joke
      again this century, understand?
TOM SERVO: So, in about two years then?
MIKE: You know what I mean.

>The rest of the finish order is: Quarterdeck Breed, back a length; Code
>of Honor, two lengths; Kirk's Bane, two and a half; Harriman's
>Redemption, two and three quarters; Prime Directive, two and five
>eighths; 

MIKE [as news announcer]: IBM is up three and a quarter, General Motors
                          down one and an eighth....

>         From the Stars, at five lengths; Viper, failed to start."

CROW: Somebody better get the jumper cables.

>        "Excellent call, Mister Data," Captain Picard said.

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: But next time, please use 1-800-COLLECT.

>        "It looks like Marrissa knows what she's talking about," Riker
>commented.

MIKE: Once again, Marrissa knows everything.

>        "I just took Rene's word," Marrissa said.  "The Question is, who
>will win the Preakness.  Warp Speed and Lady Stargazer have been
>alternating until now.  If Lady can hold a streak, we could have that
>filly crowned."

CROW: If not, it's cheap burgers for all!

>
>Chapter Seven
>Preakness and Life

TOM SERVO: ... the Universe and Everything.

>
>        The Preakness was over.  

MIKE: You know, with narrative timing like that, I'm beginning to question
      Ratliff's choice of chapter titles.
CROW: But you've gotta admit, of all the races in this story, that
      one was the best.

>                                 Once again, Lady Stargazer and Warp
>Speed had finished one two.  

TOM SERVO: Yet they had still failed to buckle my shoe.

>                             Isabelle fingered the ring Rene had given
>her after the Derby, as she watched the two horses being loaded in the
>transport.  

MIKE [as horse]: No, Wilbur... I don't *wanna* go to the glue factory...

>            Rene slipped behind her, and she melted into his embrace.

CROW [as Wicked Witch of the West]: Aaaaahhhh!  I'm *melting*!  Oh, what a
                                    world, what a world...

>"I see my lady is basking in the glow of her victory," he whispered in
>Isabelle's ear.

MIKE: I don't know about you guys, but my skin just started feeling crawly.
CROW & TOM: It's mutual!

>        "I'd rather be with you than those reporters," Isabelle replied.

CROW [as Isabelle]: But they were pretty good in the sack too.

>"Have you told your father of your finish yet?"
>        "No, I'm waiting until I get home," Rene replied.  

TOM SERVO: 'Cause there's no way his dad would be watching his son during
           the most important day of his life.

>                                                           "Have you had
>dinner yet?"
>        "Of coarse not," Isabelle responded.  "Do you know of a good
>spot?"

MIKE [as Rene]: Yeah.  They serve sandpaper.

>        "It so happens that I have reservations for two at the County
>Fare Inn," Rene said.

CROW [as Rene]: And if that's no good, we can hit the Waffle House.

>        "Planning ahead again?" Isabelle asked.
>        "Since the day after the Derby," Rene replied.  "Would you care
>to join me for dinner, Belle?"

TOM SERVO [as Rene]: Be my guest, as it were?

>        "Certainly," Isabelle replied.
>
>        From the balcony in the church, Isabelle remember that last
>night with Rene.  

MIKE: Whoa!  Anyone else get whiplash from that sudden change of scene?
TOM SERVO: Boy, anything can happen in a jump cut, and it does!

>                  How he had joked with her about her horse.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: "And the horse you rode in on."  That was a good one.

>                                                              The feel
>of his hand on hers, the look of love from across the table, 

TOM SERVO: The bill that he stuck her with...

>                                                             the
>memories brought tears to her eyes as she looked at her fiancee's coffin
>beside his father's.

CROW: Any decent writer knows how to switch scenes smoothly.  Ratliff
      does it with all the subtlety of an industrial accident.
MIKE: Guys... let's pay our respects, okay?
[They all sit quietly for a moment with their heads bowed.]

>        "Isabelle?" a woman's voice said.  Isabelle turned to discover
>Rene's mother Marie, dressed all in black. 

CROW [singing]: With silver buttons, buttons, buttons all down her back,
                back, back...

>                                           "What are you doing up here?"

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Oh, just admiring the architecture.  What the
                         hell do you *think* I'm here for?!

>       "I had to come..." Isabelle started, then trailed off.
>        "I know, you and Rene were really close," Marie said, then
>noticed the ring that Isabelle had been fingering.  

MIKE [as Marie]: Hey, your mood ring says you're pouty.

>                                                    "I had no idea how
>close.  When did Rene propose?"

CROW: When the pregnancy test came back positive?
MIKE: When her dad pointed the shotgun at him?

>        "After the Kentucky Derby," Isabelle said, her mind going back
>to that moment.

ALL: [weave back and forth and make that funky flashback music]
TOM SERVO: At least he warned us this time!

>
>        Derby officials had assigned rooms to all the jockeys in the
>derby a couple of nights before.  Rene and Isabelle had been paired up
>in the same room.  Apparently in Kentucky Rene was a girls name 

MIKE: ... as opposed to Indiana and Tennessee where, by law, it could be
      given only to boys.

>                                                                and they
>had assumed that both jockeys from Stargazer Stables were girls.  

CROW: And seeing Rene in person did nothing to convince them otherwise.
TOM SERVO [as John Cleese]: Well, you see, the thing is, I thought your
                            son was a lady.
MIKE [as Michael Palin]: I can understand *that*.

>                                                                  Rene
>and Isabelle were not complaining 

CROW: Oh *boy*, were they not complaining!
TOM SERVO [as Rene]: "Dear Penthouse, I never believed your letters before,
                      but tonight..."

>                                  . . . except for the fact that the
>room had two twin beds.

MIKE: That's okay.  Just use the extra bed as a desk or something.

>        The room had a nice view of the Ohio River from its balcony.  

CROW: Just look at that fine stream of pollution!

>                                                                      It
>was to this balcony that Rene called her to after she had finished
>showering following the Derby.  

TOM SERVO [singing]: So come with me out to the balcony, and we'll fall
                     like paper planes....
MIKE: I think I know a little robot who *really* liked my Moxy Fruvous CD,
      and I *wish he'd return it sometime soon*!
TOM SERVO: *sigh*

>                                She was wearing a simple pink night gown
>when he called her.  Rene was in his 

CROW: ... Smurf costume.

>                                     tuxedo.  Isabelle had felt
>underdressed, 

MIKE: Well if I was prancing around on a balcony in my skivvies, I'd
      feel underdressed too!

>              but Rene had assured her that she looked beautiful.  

CROW: Because that's what the book of pickup lines told him to say.

>                                                                   A
>bottle of wine was by the table, some of the '33 from it's label.  

TOM SERVO: Doesn't matter if it's actually any good, it's got an expensive
           label on it.

>                                                                   A
>light snack was arrayed on the table.

MIKE: Luckily Rene knew enough about computers to declare the array
      ahead of time.

>        She'd asked him why the setup, expecting it to be a
>congratulatory dinner for her Derby victory.  

TOM SERVO: So why'd she ask?

>                                              Instead he pulled out a
>small box and handed it to her.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: Cracker Jacks?  For *me*?  Oh Rene, you *shouldn't*
                    have!

>                                 She opened it 

MIKE: ... and the bomb exploded, shredding her face with a thousand tiny
      steel splinters.  Marrissa had struck again!

>                                               to discover a diamond
>ring.  He asked her to marry him, and she accepted.

CROW [as Isabelle]: Does this mean I have to give up my job as a White 
                    House intern now?
TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Nobody's ever given me a prettier box!

>
>        "And he never told me," Marie said, 

MIKE: Let me guess... it was just one of those things he kept meaning to
      tell you but kept forgetting, right?

>                                            bringing Isabelle back to
>the present.  "Isabelle, Star Fleet is going to take care of Rene's
>funeral since he had been accepted as a Cadet.  

CROW: Real generous of Starfleet, seeing as how Rene probably hadn't even
      been fitted for a uniform yet.
TOM SERVO [as Marie]: They'll ship him out on the next cargo transport and
                      blast his corpse out the nearest airlock.

>                                                Traditionally they
>present their banner to the widow or nearest living relative.  I
>think you should receive it."

MIKE [as Marie]: I don't want it cluttering up my house for the rest of 
                 my life.

>        Isabelle's eyes filled with tears for the uncountedth time that
>day, 

CROW: When you don't know the word, just make one up!

>     though not with sorrow this time, as she nodded her acceptance of
>the honor.  She followed Marie down from the choir loft.  She had to
>ready her few words about Rene.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: Well, uh, this guy's dead, and we're kinda down about
                    that, so, like, thanks.  Bye.

>                                 She was determined that he be
>remembered.  If not for her, but for others.

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Now, let's see... what was his name again?

>        Saint Andrew's was quiet, despite all the people who had
>gathered to remember Robert and Rene Picard.  

CROW: They died in a house fire, right?  Any chance that the former town
      bully was seen running away from the house with a gas can in his
      hand?
MIKE: 'Fraid not, Crow.  That would require connecting something that
      wasn't about horse racing to something else in this fanfic.

>                                              No members of the press
>where present, at the request of the family.  

TOM SERVO: And at the request of the press.

>                                              Marrissa had never seen so
>many black outfits.  

MIKE: Except in that ninja movie she saw once.
CROW: Oh look, all of Rene's Goth friends showed up!

>                     She and her father had both chosen to wear their
>Star Fleet dress uniforms.  Marrissa considered it appropriate, Rene had
>been accepted to the Academy, which had been his dream, after all.

TOM SERVO: Seeing as how Starfleet membership was the only way to count
           for much in Ratliff's world.

>Doctor Crusher had just entered with Isabelle Boucher.  The Doctor was
>wearing more traditional mourning attire, as was Isabelle.

MIKE: The traditional mourning brightly sequined evening gown.

>        Jean-Luc Picard took the podium to eulogize his late brother.
>His tears were banished for the moment by 

CROW: ... plugging his tear ducts shut with Super Glue.

>                                          his sense of duty, and his
>sorrow hidden by his Captain's poker face.  

TOM SERVO: Two pair, and a quick pout.

>                                            "My brother Robert Maurice
>Picard, was well known around here as a noted proprietor of the Picard
>Family Vineyard.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: And I want to thank all the winos who've joined us
                    here tonight to honor his memory.

>                  His classmates in school knew him as somewhat of a
>bully, but generally a good person.  

CROW: Yeah, take away the physical and emotional torture and he was swell.

>                                     To me, he was my big brother, my
>tormenter, my confidant, my trouble, my help, my enemy, my friend.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: He's the source of my chronic indecision and the
                    reason why making any choice requires consultation
                    with at least two senior staff members and a bartender
                    who wears a froofy hat.

>                                                                    He
>was everything a little brother could want 

TOM SERVO [as commercial announcer]: ... and less.

>                                           or didn't want."

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: He was the best of brothers, he was the worst of
                    brothers....

>        "Robert was one of the main reasons I joined Star Fleet.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Anything to get away from him.

>                                                                  Some
>will tell you it was because he and our father were stuck in the past,
>and I looked for the future, saying there must be more.  

CROW: Something more than a harsh life of physical labor in the hot sun,
      looking for vine rot every day of the year?  Say it ain't so!

>                                                         Well if this is
>true, then it was because of Robert.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: My big brother controlled my life completely,
                         and I loved him for it!

>                                      My classmates will remember that I
>was almost always at the head of my class.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Enough talking about Robert.  Get the attention back
                    on me.

>                                            That was because of Robert.

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: He killed every student who had higher test scores
                    than I did.

>He had had a hard time in school and was determined that his little
>brother was not going to have the same problems.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Mine were going to be *much* more traumatic!

>                                                  He once locked me in
>my room to finish my science project while telling father that I had
>stayed after class."

CROW: Later, this technique would be put to good use with the ambassadors
      of Naklab.
TOM SERVO: This isn't nearly so much a warm, supportive relationship
           as it's a domestic abuse situation.

>        "Many of you don't know, and I'd appreciate if it doesn't get
>back to my crew, Doctor, Marrissa, 

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: ... that I completely forgot about my adopted daughter
                    when I told the Counselor that I was now "the last of
                    the Picards" in that Generations movie.

>                                   that I failed my first attempt at
>getting into the academy.  I was devastated at when I received the news.

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: Thus began my long, dark year of sin and vice.  Most
                    of it's a blur, but I do remember vino flowing like it
                    was sewer water....

>I felt I was doomed to live forever in the vineyard, 

TOM SERVO: Wouldn't they at least let him back in the house?

>                                                     and I wanted more.
>Robert found me crying in the wine cellar, the tear stained letter
>before me.  He comforted me, and encouraged me to try again the next
>year."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: That time, he locked me in the basement for a
                    whole year.  If I hadn't gnawed off my own hair for
                    sustenance, I never would have made it... but darn it,
                    it's proof that he loved me!

>        "Over the years I have gotten discouraged many times, but there
>was always Robert, willing to talk, or even beat some sense into me.  

CROW: But did he have to use the tire iron and gramma's old saucepans?

>                                                                      I
>got lots of bruises with my hardheadedness, 

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: ... and Robert always made sure I covered them
                         up so no one would find out.

>                                            but Robert was always there,

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: ... to lovingly kick my ass some more.

>even after the feud between my father and I started after I lost the
>Stargazer.  

CROW: Yeah, his dad insisted that he shouldn't have screwed up.

>            I missed my father's funeral.  The Enterprise was too far
>from Earth at the time.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: And Robert didn't tell me about it for three
                         years.

>                         Which for a while created a gap, which I
>regretted.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: But then I realized... Gaps are everywhere you look
                    for good fashion!

>            His wife kept me informed though, and when I needed some
>sense kicked into me following Wolf 359, Robert was ready and waiting."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: He never got tired of beating me up!

>        "Robert was many things, a son, a husband, a father, 

TOM SERVO: ... a *thug*.
>                                                             a wine
>expert, a traditionalist, but for me he filled a most important role, 

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: He was the Punch to my Judy.

>                                                                      he
>was my brother."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: So let's hear it for this magnificent bastard!
CROW: Okay, which is creepier: Ratliff's views on the abilities of
      children to do adult tasks, or Ratliff's views on what makes
      a brother?
TOM SERVO: Every Ratliff story we get paints a scarier and scarier
           picture of what kind of family life he seems to think is
           normal.

>        Jean-Luc Picard had held his tears back until he finished his
>speech, but could hold them no longer.  They flowed as he returned to
>his seat.  

CROW: Then Father Frances took the podium, looking stunning in his black
      satin dress and pumps.

>           Marrissa put her arms around him, and tried to comfort her
>father.

MIKE: ... by beating him within an inch of his life, just like Robert
      would have done if he were here.

>        Next, Isabelle took the podium.  She placed her handwritten
>notes before her, took a deep breath and began.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: A funny thing happened to me on the way to
                         the funeral today....

>                                                 "I'm not sure when I
>first met Rene.  His mother has a picture of me stealing his pacifier,
>so I guess I've 

CROW [as Isabelle]: ... been terrorizing him all his life.

>                known him all my life.  We grew up together.  We shared
>our hopes, our dreams, our lives."

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Our implied romance was *so* wonderful... what
                         lovely things Rene might or might not have said
                         about my hair... I had such an ill-defined time
                         that I'll never forget it for as long as I live
                         off-screen, unless it is retconned out of my past
                         at a later date.

>        "Rene wanted to be a Star Fleet Officer ever since I can
>remember.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: At least since last week.

>           He wanted to follow his uncle Jean-Luc to the stars, some day
>commanding his own starship, his own Stargazer or Enterprise.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: Or maybe the Starship Titanic.

>                                                               He had
>been accepted to the Academy, and was to begin this fall.  But tragedy
>cut his life short."

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: He'd started wearing plaid.  Trust me, his death
                         was a mercy.

>        "But we are not gathered here to remember the tragedy, 

CROW [as Isabelle]: Yeah, why's everybody so down?  It's just a funeral.

>                                                               and I
>know Rene wouldn't want to be remembered that way.  Rene was many
>things.  He made model starships and planned to major in Engineering at
>the Academy.  He rode horses for Stargazer Stables.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: He breathed.  He grew hair.  He did stuff.

>                                                     Abroad Warp Speed,
>he won four races, and finished second in six more, 

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: ... but then the Olympic Committee told him to
                         stop entering his horse in track and field events.

>                                                    most notably, the
>Kentucky Derby and the Preakness.  He helped out his father in the
>vineyard, and his mother in the kitchen.  His French Bread was the best
>I ever tasted."

CROW [as Isabelle]: Yes, he was a geek... but he was *my* kind of geek.

>        "Rene was also my best friend and confidant.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: So let me just tell you all the stuff that he made me
                    promise to keep secret... hey, it's not like he'll find
                    out I told, right?

>                                                      He helped me with
>my math, and I helped him with history.  We shared secrets, and stood up
>for one another.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: Well, actually it was mostly me standing up to the
                    town bully for him, but you get the idea.

>                  He was my boy friend for four years, and proposed to
>me after the Derby.  He was always there for me.  Now he is gone.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Okay, so this is one time he's not there for me.
                         But I guess it's not his fault really.

>                                                                   I'll
>miss him."
>        "However, I'll try not to remember the tragedy that took him
>away.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: I'll deny my feelings and personal history and repress
                    my grief.

>       I'll try to remember the dreamer who fell asleep looking at the
>stars, dreaming of 

CROW: ... babes in string bikinis.

>                   starships and adventures.  I'll remember the young
>man astride his stallion who raced me and my horse across the field and
>around the track.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: And then there's all the time he spent as
                         a jockey!

>                   I'll remember the games of tag at the swimming hole,

MIKE: Oh, thanks a lot, Ratliff!  Just when I think I've gotten that
      scene out of my head for good...
 
>and the telling of dreams around the fire place, 

CROW [as Isabelle]: The smoke alarm we never got around to installing...

>                                                 of the adventures we
>hoped to leave.  

MIKE: What?
TOM SERVO: Hey, his spell checker is doing the very best it can.  It's
           hard enough to make everything into words, it can't make
           everything into coherent sentences too.

>                 Perhaps I'll be a little sad at the memory, but I'll
>remember the good times, 

MIKE [as J.J.]: DYN-O-*MITE*!!!

>                         the dreamer, the companion, and the friend."
>        With that, Isabelle broke down and cried.  Jean-Luc got up and
>helped his late nephew's fiancee down from the podium to her seat next
>to Marrissa.

CROW [as Marrissa]: Don't cry, Isabelle.  Ratliff will get you a new
                    fiancee.  Just look at the new family he gave me!

>
>        The mood at the vineyard was somber.  

MIKE [boisterously]: Boy, hey, why so quiet?  You act like somebody died 
                     or some... oh.

>                                              Robert and Rene Picard had
>been buried in Saint Andrew's Cemetery.  Marie existed between bouts of
>tears, 

TOM SERVO: This is the first time in history that grief's caused someone
           to enter a quantum state, isn't it?

>       and Jean-Luc wasn't much better.  Little Theresa could not
>understand what had happened and probably wouldn't remember her father
>or brother.  That fact brought tears to Marie and Jean-Luc's eyes every
>time their eyes chanced upon her.  

CROW: Never to endure Robert's emotional misery... never to know of
      Rene's bland wimpiness...

>                                   This left Theresa confused and she
>retreated into Marrissa's arms.
>        Marrissa had been spared grief.  

MIKE: Marrissa lived in the sunlit world of the eternal now, her self-
      centeredness a shield against the morality of an uncaring world...

>                                         She had only known Robert and
>Rene for one brief month the previous year.  True she liked Rene, but
>his death 

TOM SERVO: ... meant nothing to her, just like all the others, despite
           Ratliff's furious attempts to rewrite history.

>          paled in comparison to the deaths of her own parents, some
>eleven months before.

CROW: Even in death, the sequel's never better than the original.

>        Attempting to escape the grief stricken, Marrissa took Theresa
>out in her stroller.  

MIKE: Isn't Marrissa a little old to have a stroller?

>                      As she pushed her down the road toward the stables
>and town, she asked, "Do you want to see the horses, Theresa?"
>        "'Ne's horses?" Theresa inquired.

TOM SERVO: Actually she wants to see the houses.  She's getting her real
           estate agent's license in a few weeks.

>        "Yes, Theresa," Marrissa responded, pushing the stroller down
>the tree-lined, brick covered road.  The sun was shining and the birds
>singing a happy tune.

MIKE: Turn back!  You've wandered into a Disney film!  TURN BACK!!!

>        "'Resa love 'orses," Theresa said after a moment.

CROW [as Theresa]: 'Resa won fi'teen grand onna 'orses 'ast week.

>        They entered the stables to discover an argument in progress.
>Loud voices drew Marrissa and Theresa to the trainer's office.  

MIKE [as Michael Palin]: This isn't an argument!  It's just contradiction!
TOM SERVO [as John Cleese]: No it isn't!

>                                                                One
>thing was for sure, Isabelle wasn't drowning herself in sorrows, and
>neither was Mike.

CROW: Nope, they were drowning themselves in cheap, sweet booze.... 

>        "I am not letting you risk you child ridding on some foolish
>mission to remember your boy friend," Mike argued as Marrissa and
>Theresa looked in the door.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa, to herself]: Isabelle's getting rid of her child?
                                     The hell?!
                                      
>                             Isabelle was facing away from the door,
>dressed in her jockey's uniform.  Mike was standing up behind his desk,
>in his usual sweat shirt and jeans.

CROW: "Hi everyone, I'm Mike, and welcome to the Satellite of Love..."
MIKE: Don't.

>        "Doctor Crusher says that I should have no problem riding in the
>Belmont," Isabelle replied.
>        "Doctor Crusher is a starship doctor.  She has no experience
>dealing with the rigors of horse racing," Mike replied.

CROW: Well, unless the starship itself wanted to race a horse.

>        "I beg to differ," Marrissa said as she leaned in the door
>frame.
>        "Marrissa, when did you get here?" Isabelle asked, turning back
>to face her.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Dramatic license is MINE to CONTROL!!!
                         AHAHAHAHAHAHA!

>        "About 'risking your child,'" Marrissa responded, looking at
>her fingernails.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: I would like to propose an innovative *new* risk for
                    your child....

>                  "Now as for the good Doctor's experience with horse
>racing.  Starship Doctors, by their very nature, must be prepared for
>anything, with a holodeck on ship especially.  

CROW: Especially the *Enterprise's* holodecks.

>                                               I don't know how many
>times I've injured myself in the holodeck riding horses, and I know my
>Dad has been knocked off his horse a couple times."

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: 'Course, he makes us claim the horse falls out
                         from under *him*, but...

>        "But she's never treated a pregnant jockey before, has she?"
>Mike retorted.
>        "There is a first time for everything," Marrissa said.  

MIKE: Hmm, let's see... giant spacefaring alien bio-ship that thinks the
      Enterprise is its mother, okay... two-dimensional life-forms that
      think the ship is a supermarket... half-parallel-universe beings
      that feed off the weakening of spacetime... nope, guess she's never
      handled a pregnant woman doing something physically strenuous.

>                                                                "But the
>Doctor will not give an OK to do anything if their is even the slightest
>chance of harm.  

CROW: Except during the teaser, Act I, Act II, Act III, Act IV, or Act V.

>                 I know, she's kept me out of several missions, or at
>least tried to."

MIKE [as Marrissa]: But the last time, I locked her in the bathroom and
                    then she couldn't stop me.  Mwa-ha-ha-ha!

>        "Humph, I'm willing to bet that if Doctor Crusher had objected,
>Isabelle wouldn't have told me about it until after the Belmont," Mike
>remarked.

TOM SERVO [sarcastically]: And the Doctor would *never* think of talking
                           to the horse trainer about her objections,
                           right?

>        "You're probably right," Isabelle responded.  "Now can I switch
>to Warp Speed?"

MIKE [as Mike]: Well, okay, but then the race will be done in six one-
                millionths of a second.
CROW: Mike?  I hereby request permission to kill myself if Isabelle ends
      up riding Warp Speed around the sun to go back in time and rescue
      Rene.
MIKE: It's only the horse's name, Crow.
CROW: Oh sure, you say that *now*, but just watch!

>        "Go ahead," Mike said, sitting back down in his chair.  "It will
>probably be easier to find a jockey for a possible Triple Crown winner
>anyway.  

TOM SERVO: Sheesh, this is like listening to somebody describing his
           clever manipulations of his jai alai rotisserie league team.

>         Not that I think any of the current crop of free jockeys are
>any good.  

CROW: Well, what do you expect for free?

>           I'd rather have Marrissa ride her."

MIKE: And naturally, our little Marrissa, who's only ridden a real horse
      once or twice in her entire life, can compete with veteran jockeys.

>        "I am available," Marrissa replied.  

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Do I get a medal now or later?

>                                             "But somehow I think that
>you would prefer a jockey who wasn't in her first real race.  I do know
>the horse, and I've had a lot of time on the holodeck racing. (I do it
>to relieve stress.) 

CROW: Parenthetically speaking, that is.

>                    I think you'd want more in such a situation though."

MIKE: Fifteen stories and he finally admits that computer simulation may
      not *precisely* match reality.
TOM SERVO: Steve-o must be doing Java programming these days.

>       "They'll probably call me insane, 

ALL [dully]: You're insane.

>                                         but after what happened at the
>Preakness, I'm not going to use those jockeys," Mike began.
>        "I heard that five of the horses involved will never race
>again," Marrissa said.

CROW: Well, here's something else that Ratliff forgot to tell us about.

>        "Right," Mike said.  "Anyway, I'll take you up on your offer.
>You'll ride Lady Stargazer.  

MIKE: So the greatest tragedy of Jean-Luc's long and eventful life turns
      out to be just another excuse to put Marrissa's name in lights
      again.  Ratliff, you are shameless.

>                             I expect that you all will not disappoint
>me.  I want one of those horses in the winners circle."

TOM SERVO [as Marlon Brando]: If there is no horse in the winner's
                              circle, I may be forced to... come by.
                              To speak with you.  Make sure that I do
                              not have to come by, Isabelle.

>        "That shouldn't be too hard," Marrissa said.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: It's a cinch if you have Ratliff pulling the strings
                    for you!

>                                                      "Isabelle, who is
>left for us to worry about?"

CROW [as Isabelle]: Nobody!  We got the innermost track, so they're all on
                    our right!

>        "Seven horses are currently scheduled, but in my opinion,
>Quarterdeck breed is the only real threat," Isabelle said.

MIKE: Marrissa will have her Starfleet Marines take him out at first light.

>        "So you say," Mike replied.

TOM SERVO [as Mike]: That's just what they *want* us to think....

>        "Hey, I was right about Kirk's Bane in the Preakness," Isabelle
>defended.  "That horse was too sick to race, and the jockey and trainer
>were fools.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: Also they're bad people, and probably communists.

>             But you said it was pre-race jitters and the horse
>collapsed in the first turn."

TOM SERVO: Listen to the kid, Mike!  The kids are always right in these
           stories!  *Listen to the kid!*

>        "So I missed some signs," Mike said.  

CROW [as Mike]: No Parking... Speed Limit... Wiggly stuff ahead... hmm...

>                                              "Anyway, what are we going
>to do with you after the Belmont?  Their will come a time when you won't
>be able to race.  

MIKE [as Mike]: Like if you ever die or something.

>                  I'm still short on jockeys, 

CROW: And Ratliff's still short on talent.

>                                              and I doubt Marrissa will
>be able to cover too many races."

TOM SERVO: Oh man, I wish I could be in this universe so I could clean up
           by betting on Marrissa all the time.

>        "Probably just the Belmont," Marrissa confirmed.  Theresa was
>getting anxious now, pulling at Marrissa's arm toward the horse stalls."

MIKE [as Theresa]: The goat's trying to eat the water pump again!

>       "We can figure that out later," Isabelle dismissed.  "I think we
>better take Theresa to see the horses now, though.  If we don't she's
>libel to sneak out and we'll find her hugging Macedonian's leg again."

CROW [as Isabelle]: And calling it "daddy".

>        "Isn't that dangerous?" Marrissa said.  "I mean he could step on
>the poor girl with out knowing."

MIKE: Nahhh... most horses would just bite her, then blow fifteen gallons
      of snot in her hair.

>        "Not Theresa, she's got those horses following her like newborn
>colts," Mike dismissed.  

CROW: Sheesh, folks have "dismissed" us about 97 times this scene, but
      we still can't leave!

>                         "I'm willing to bet she has several carrots for
>Warp Speed in that stroller."

TOM SERVO: Reality check, here, Steve: Most 9-month old infants are still
           at the crawling stage, can't talk, and wouldn't know a horse
           from a hat.

>        Theresa pulled out a carrot from behind her back, and said,
>"'Resa love 'ores."

[stunned silence]
MIKE: Ratliff, tell me that you *meant* to say "'orses" there.  *Please*.
TOM SERVO: We gotta go, guys.

[Everyone leaves the theater]

[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]

[SOL]

[Mike, Crow and Tom are all dressed smartly in black suits and black ties.
 They are standing in their usual places.]

MIKE: Hi folks.  Well, we *were* all set to have ourselves a good time 
      right about now, a little bright and cheerful moment to help get us 
      through the rest of the fanfic.  We had a mariachi band lined up,
      there was going to be singing, dancing and laughter... but then we 
      had to sit through one of the most unrelentingly depressing chapters
      that Ratliff ever wrote, and now we just can't get in the mood to 
      celebrate.

TOM SERVO [glumly]: Thanks a *lot*, Ratliff.

MIKE: So, at the last minute and at great expense, we decided to set up
      our own little memorial service so we can work through our own
      feelings about the deaths of Robert and Rene Picard.  And that's why
      we've all dressed up like Men in Black without the sunglasses and
      dimmed the lights.

CROW: Uh, Mike?  The lights have been this dim for *years* now.

MIKE: Oh yeah.  That's right.

CROW [muttering]: Speaking of dim...

MIKE: Anyway, we've got a couple of urns for Rene and Robert and some ashes
      that we're going to pretend are theirs and we're going to use them 
      for a little symbolic burial in space.  [Mike reaches under the
      control panel and brings out two urns labeled "Rene Picard" and
      "Robert Picard".  He puts them on the control panel.]  Tom, would you
      like to say a few words before we commit them to the depths of space?

TOM SERVO: Sure would, Mike.  Rene, Robert, the news of your deaths stirred
           up such intense feelings of apathy and indifference in me that
           I just wanted to come and pay my last respects.  And I want you
           both to know that, even though you're serving about as much
           purpose in Ratliff's fanfic now as you did when you were alive,
           at least you can take comfort in the fact that you died so
           that a spoiled twelve-year old girl could hog the spotlight
           one more time.
           
MIKE: Wait a minute... didn't they die so that Patrick Stewart could have a
      dramatic, tear-jerking moment on the big screen?

TOM SERVO: Not according to *this* story.

MIKE: Ah.  Crow, any words for the dearly departed?

CROW: Well, I'm not good at speeches, but I think it's cool that Rene will
      get to be in space for a while, just like he always wanted.  At least
      until some alien comes around and uses him for target practice or
      until he burns up in a star.  And speaking of burning up, I thought 
      it was really considerate of them to get themselves cremated in their
      own house before the funeral.  Saves the relatives the trouble, you
      know?

MIKE: Crow, remind me to ban you from my funeral, okay?  Anyway, I guess
      it's time to send them to their final resting place, or floating
      place, or whatever.  [Mike picks up the urns, then opens the airlock
      and places them inside.]  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, yea though
      I walk through the valley of the shadow, and all that.

CROW: Hold on, Mike!  Don't flush them yet!  We've got some more urns to
      go out with them!

MIKE: Huh?

CROW: See, Servo and I figured that as long as we were saying goodbye to
      Rene and Robert, we should take a minute to pay tribute to some of
      the *other* casualties of Marrissa's rise to power.  After all, anyone
      who stands in Marrissa's way is pretty much a friend of ours!

TOM SERVO: And if we don't honor their memories, who will?

MIKE: Hm.  Good point.  Okay, so who else are we sending off?

CROW: Well, if you open that box under the control panel, that's where
      we put the rest of them.  We've got Marrissa's mom and dad...
      [Mike holds their urns up to the camera before putting them in
      the airlock.]  Admiral William T. Riker... [Mike holds his urn
      up and puts it in the airlock]  Then you've got all the nameless
      Romulans, Cardassians and Trakce that Marrissa casually slaughtered
      in one battle or another. [Mike transfers many urns from behind the
      control panel to the airlock as Crow talks.] Just because we don't
      know their names that doesn't make them any less worthy of a decent
      burial, right?

MIKE: I guess not.  Oh wait, there's one more urn... [Mike brings out an
      urn and holds it up to his face.]  Ah, Ensign Throwaway.  We'll miss
      you least of all.  [Mike throws the urn away over his shoulder.]
      So where'd you get all the ashes, anyway?

TOM SERVO: Oh, it wasn't hard.  After we burned your comic book collection,
           we had more than enough.

MIKE: Oh, well that sounds like... HEY!!!

[The Mads light starts blinking.]

CROW: Hold that thought, Mike!  The Mads are calling....

[Castle Forrester]

[Pearl is standing in the foreground, wearing a black dress with matching
 black hat and veil, looking obviously distressed.  Observer is in the 
 background, sitting at a computer.]

PEARL: Hi guys.  I know it's my job to bring you misery and all, but this
       time I wish I wasn't the bearer of bad news.  We just found out
       that... that... [Pearl breaks down and starts crying]  You tell
       them, Observer, I can't...

OBSERVER: [uncomfortably]  Um, well Mike, Pearl tells me that you and your
          little AIs are quite familiar with Stephen Ratliff, and now I'm
          afraid that it's my sad duty to inform you that he is dead.
          Pearl was searching Yahoo for some information about him when
          she discovered this obituary in Roanoke's local newspaper.  As 
          you can see, she's very shook up over the news, as I'm sure you 
          are too.

          According to the obituary and the local news article that's
          linked to it, Stephen was struck by a car that was speeding
          through an intersection with a four-way stop.  The driver was
          a twelve-year old girl whose father apparently was the
          commissioner of the Virginia DMV.  When asked why he had a
          license issued to his underaged daughter, the commissioner said
          that she was so good at her NASCAR Racing video game at home
          and she scored so high on the DMV's written test that it seemed
          like the right thing to do.  After he was dismissed from his
          position, his daughter was charged with driving with an invalid
          license, reckless driving, vehicular manslaughter, failure to
          obey a stop sign and exceeding 80 miles per hour with an
          unrefined engine.

PEARL [sobbing]: Oh, cruel fate!  Such a promising young writer, cut down
                 in the prime of his life!  Why, God, why did this have
                 to happen to him?  What am I going to do now that he's 
                 gone? [She starts to cry again, then she looks up into the 
                 camera] If you guys need a few minutes to deal with this 
                 awful news, I'll understand.  Guys?

[SOL]

[The control room is now brightly lit, and Mike, Crow, Tom and Gypsy are
 all dancing and cheering with wild abandon while confetti flies through
 the air and a mariachi band plays in the background.  Meanwhile, the
 commercial sign light is blinking.]

CROW: [yelling above the noise] What's that, Pearl?!  Didn't quite catch 
      that last part!  Give us a few minutes, okay?!  I'll talk to you 
      after commercial sign!

[Crow hits the commercial sign button with his beak, and the revelry
 continues through the transition to...]

[Commercials.]
      
[Inside the theater]

[Mike and the bots enter.]

TOM SERVO: Mike... we just did a deeply disrespectful thing, didn't we?
MIKE: Yeah.  But somehow, just maybe, I think he would have understood.

[They sit down.]

>Author's Note:
>        I'd love some feedback.  

CROW: That's what we're here for!  You're welcome.

>                                 In this section there are referances to
>2 storys and one author here on ASC.  See if you can find all three and
>I'll recomend them.                             -- Stephen

MIKE: And if *Ratliff* recommends them, you just *know* they've gotta
      be good!

>
>Chapter Eight

TOM SERVO: Clean the plate.

>The Belmont
>
>        Marrissa put on the jockey's uniform on in the hastily assembled
>ladies locker room.  

MIKE: And most of the girls in there *looked* hastily assembled, if you
      know what I mean.
CROW: Oh joy, more behind the scenes looks at the thrill-a-minute world
      of horse racing.  What's next, a golf documentary?

>                     Even though Isabelle had become the first active
>female jockey in years last fall, Belmont hadn't returned the locker
>room from it's storage duties until Isabelle won the Derby.  

MIKE: Because in four hundred years there'd only been *one* female jockey
      ever.
TOM SERVO: Sad, really.  Even in the 24th century, women are still
           marginalized.

>                                                             Marrissa
>was quite nervous, she had not really expected Mike to let her ride Lady
>Stargazer, the Derby and Preakness winner.  It was quite ridiculous.  

CROW: Very good, Steve.  You've admitted the problem.  That's the first
      step.

>                                                                      A
>girl not even a teenager, riding a horse that had a chance at winning
>the triple crown.  

MIKE: She's going to phaser "I was beaten by a girl who's not even a
      teenager" into the losing horse's flank, I just know it.

>                   A girl who had never raced in a real race, riding a
>horse that was favored to win the race, or at least had been until Mike
>had announced the jockey change.

TOM SERVO: Obviously the bookies don't know who's writing this story.

>        "Relax, Marrissa," Isabelle said, placing an arm around her
>fellow female jockey.  "It's only a race."

CROW [as Isabelle]: It's only a once in a lifetime opportunity that'll
                    cost us thousands if you blow it.  No pressure.

>        "Only the last race in the triple crown, and I'm riding a horse
>who could win it," Marrissa said, 

MIKE [as announcer]: For those of you who just joined our story...

>                                  putting her helmet over her hair,
>which had been tightly braided up. "I'm afraid I'll drop right off the
>horse."
>        "The only dropping you have to worry about 

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: ... is the stuff you'll be shovelling out of the
                         stables for the next three months if you don't
                         bring home the trophy.

>                                                   is the dead weight
>you're going to have to carry to your horse," Isabelle smiled.  "I've
>seen you working with Lady.  You're good.  

CROW: Again with the Marrissa worship!  Hasn't Ratliff beaten this dead
      horse enough?
TOM SERVO: *You* should be beaten for that one, Crow.

>                                           You have a rapport with that
>horse, but then again Lady never liked male jockeys, except for maybe
>Rene, 

MIKE: What does it say about Rene when everybody from horses to hotel
      clerks mistakes him for a girl?

>      and he had to work with her awhile."
>        "Dead weight?" Marrissa questioned.

TOM SERVO: You know, like Deanna Troi, or Lore, or the entire cast of
           Voyager.

>        "What is added to your horse to make all the horses carry the
>same weight," Isabelle explained.  

CROW: Or your fiction, to pad it out to more than one part.

>                                   "You weight how much?"
>        "101 pounds," Marrissa said.
[singing]: ... of fun, she's my honey bun...

CROW: ... the hell?!
MIKE: Tom, are you fooling around with Cambot again?
TOM SERVO: That wasn't me, Mike!  I swear!
MIKE [yelling]: Gypsy?  We're getting some weird output from Cambot...
                can you track it down?
GYPSY [offscreen, distant]: Will do!

>        "I'm a 115 with what Doctor Crusher insisted I put in the past
>couple weeks," Isabelle said.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: She wanted me to eat marbles.  I don't know, she's
                    the doctor....

>                               "112 is my ideal.  Fillies carry 121
>pounds; colts, 126. That means you will carry twenty-two pounds of dead
>weight and I'll carry eleven. I hope you can carry that much."

TOM SERVO: Well, yeah, that might be a strain if she had to carry it
           with two fingers while hopping and wearing concrete pants.

>        "How far?" Marrissa asked.
>        "Just from the weight room to the paddock," Isabelle said.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: That's where all our pad shipments arrive.

>                                                                    "Now
>we better hurry if we want to beat the boys to the weight room.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: I want to go lift before the gym gets too crowded.

>                                                                 You
>don't want to go though what I did at the Star Fleet Stakes."

CROW [as Isabelle]: Boy, I felt like such a square peg there!  [normal
     voice, embarrassed] Heh, 'cause it was at the *Stakes*, and... 
     I'll just shut up now.

>        "You won that race, didn't you?" Marrissa inquired as the exited
>the locker room.

MIKE: Nice to see that the girls can share their locker room with any
      definite articles that need it.

>        "Yes, and I could have charged half of the jockeys with sexual
>harassment," Isabelle replied.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: But some of the offers they shouted at me sounded
                         too good to pass up!

>                                "Rene and I were the last two jockeys to
>arrive, and we suffered several insults.  Finally Rene had enough.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: He broke down and cried.

>                                                                    He
>walked over to the Klingon jockey and asked him if he could barrow his
>d'k tahg.  

CROW: His...
MIKE: [clamping his fist over Crow's mouth] No.
TOM SERVO: "Barrow"?

>           When  Korrath replied, 'Why don't you have you're own
>knife?'  He responded, 

CROW [as Rene]: I lost it at Nicole Simpson's house.  Along with one of 
                my gloves.

>                       that he did, but his trainer wouldn't let him
>keep it around the horses.  In any case, the p'lahk in the Calumet Farm
>jersey had dishonored his," and Isabelle tripped over the word,
>"par-ma-ki, 

MIKE [singing]: Par-ma-ka, life goes on... AH!  La la, how the
                life goes on...

>            what ever that means, and he though a cut jersey would be
>appropriate."

CROW: All those cattle mutilations blamed on aliens... and all along it
      was the jockeys!

>        "The word means mate, or beloved," Marrissa explained, 

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Or insurance claims adjustor.  It's a weird
                         language.

>                                                               then at
>Isabelle's inquiring look, she continued.  "I've got a Klingon friend,
>Alexander Rozhenko.  

MIKE [as Marrissa]: I'm not a traitor just because I know something about
                    one of the eighteen billion other species out there!
CROW: I'm just wondering when Alexander "Studmuffin" Rozhenko had cause to
      make Marrissa aware of that particular word....

>                     He'll be up in the box with the rest of the
>Enterprise command crew.  So what did Rene do?"

TOM SERVO: Told a long, boring and pointless anecdote?

>        "Well, while he was talking with Korrath, the jockey from
>Calumet Farm left for his horse," Isabelle said.  "Korrath thought it
>was a shame.  

CROW: A Low Down Dirty Shame.

>              Rene suggested that instead of the blue stripes on his
>uniform, the Calumet rider would prefer yellow.  

MIKE: Aw, no, if we're getting more colored ribbon stuff out of Steverino,
      I have to go get a beer.
TOM SERVO: Hold on, Isabelle's story might end someday.

>                                                 I thought the whole
>thing was ridiculous."

CROW: Hey Isabelle, we agree!
MIKE: What?  What was ridiculous?  What?
TOM SERVO: I don't think there's any way to tell.

>        The two arrived at the weight room to discover that one jockey
>had arrived before them.  It was the Klingon jockey, who rode Code of
>Honor.  "Greetings, honorable warriors," Korrath said.  

MIKE [as Korrath]: And you too, Isabelle and Marrissa.

>                                                        "My condolences
>on your recent loss, Lady Isabelle.  

TOM SERVO [as Korrath]: So where is the last place you saw your skate keys?

>                                     I hope Rene son of Robert is now in
>Sto-Vo-Kor racing his enemies until they tire under the pace he sets.

MIKE: So in the Klingon afterworld they race horses for all eternity?
CROW: I hope Ratliff's soul goes there... see how *he* likes being
      subjected to horse racing for eons! 

>He was a most honorable opponent."
>        "Thank you, Korrath," Isabelle said, surprised at the sediments
>expressed by the Klingon rider.

ALL: [burst out laughing]
CROW: I always thought he had a heart of stone!
MIKE: He just let his feelings pile up year after year.
TOM SERVO: Thank you, Ratliff, for making us laugh about geology... again.

>        Then Korrath turned to Marrissa and said, "You are the
>Arbitrator's heir, Marrissa, daughter of Captain Picard?"  Marrissa
>nodded.  "A most honorable line.  

TOM SERVO [as Korrath]: I've used it many times to get hot Klingon babes
                        to talk to me.

>                                  Give your enemies no quarter, and may
>you always be victorious ... preferable not against me of coarse."

MIKE: Boy, that's rough.

>        "Q'pla, to you as well, Korrath, son of Lomec, of the house of
>Garon," Marrissa replied.  "Shall we get this weighing out of the way?

CROW: I'm waiting for the weighing to get out of the way.
TOM SERVO: Didn't Walt Kelly write that first?

>I'd like to get to my horse as soon as I can."
>        "Eager to go into battle, Lieutenant?" Korrath asked, 

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Uh, no, I just came here to race my horse, thank you.
TOM SERVO: So we finally get a Klingon doing a genuinely non-stereotypical
           thing, and it turns out to be just that dull warrior cliche all
           over again.

>                                                              as
>Marrissa ascended the scales to be weighed.

CROW [as Marrissa]: I've gained 5 pounds!  No more onion dip for me!

>        "No, afraid if I wait too long, I won't have the nerve to do
>it," Marrissa responded, then she laughed.  "Here I am, having fought in
>battles, commanded starships, and I'm afraid of a horse race."

MIKE: Well, horses *are* more ill-tempered than Cardassians, I'll grant
      that.

>        "There is no shame in feeling fear," Korrath replied.  

CROW [as Korrath]: But there *is* shame in wetting your pants.

>                                                               "Rather,
>it is not feeling fear that worries me.  For if I do not feel fear, then
>there is no challenge in life.  

TOM SERVO: Lovely.  Now it's an afterschool special.

>                                For a Klingon, a life with out challenge
>is one without honor, such a life is not worth while."

CROW [softly]: And now... Deep Thoughts, by Korrath son of Lomec.

>        "True, son of Lomec," Marrissa said, getting down from the scale
>and picking up her weights.  

MIKE: See, it's just like any other Starfleet operation.  Hurry up and 
      weight.

>                             "I shall see you on the track. Q'pla."

TOM SERVO: Roughly translated, that means "Use your vowels sparingly".

>        Marrissa sat on Lady Stargazer as they loaded her into gate
>seven which closed behind her locking her in with her horse.  

CROW: I don't suppose there's any chance the horse'll suddenly go into 
      a claustrophobic frenzy and end up trampling Marrissa to death?
TOM SERVO: Personally, I'd be more worried about the horse being trapped
           in there with Marrissa.

>                                                              Isabelle
>on Warp Speed was two gates closer to the post.  To her inside was We'll
>Always Have Paris, 

MIKE [incredulously]: What?!
TOM SERVO: Oh, now he's just opening his episode guide at random.

>                   ridden by a Betaziod named Fryr Draken.  

CROW: Cousin to Friar Tuck.

>                                                            There was no
>one on her outside, as a result of disaster caused by Kirk's Bane in the
>Preakness which had end the careers of  five horses and killed two
>including Kirk's Bane.

MIKE: His warp core lost containment and wiped out half the state.

>        The gates opened and Marrissa urged Lady Stargazer forward...

ALL [chanting]: Throw her!  *Throw* her!  THROW HER!!!

>
>        Up in the stands, the crew of the Enterprise had gathered.

MIKE: ... wondering what they were doing at some damn fool horse race
      when the Borg were invading again.

>Captain Jean-Luc Picard eagerly pointed at the gates, looking for his
>daughter and her horse to emerge.  

CROW: Yes, a father should always be there for his daughter's coming-out.
MIKE & TOM: [groans]

>                                   Doctor Crusher was at his side, the
>engagement ring he had given her glistening in the sun.  

TOM SERVO [as Crusher, glumly]: Well, cubic zirconium still looks pretty
                                when the sun hits it, I guess.

>                                                         Commander Riker
>stood with Data La Forge and Worf, going over the odds.  

MIKE [as Riker]: Odds I'll score with Lisa in Astrophysics?
CROW [as Data]: Eight to one against, sir.
MIKE [as Riker]: Alice in Food Prep?
CROW [as Data]: Sixteen to one against, sir.
MIKE [as Riker]: Samantha in Botany?
CROW [as Data]: Ah, you're favored to win there, sir.  Two to one odds.
MIKE [as Riker]: Goooood... now about that handicap.  I don't think I can 
                 grow more greasy, unappealing hair anywhere else on my
                 body....

>                                                         Troi stood back
>from it all, wondering at how much of a turn around recent times had
>been.

CROW: Remembering the days when adults actually had a say in running
      things...

>        Captain Picard had been distraught over his brothers and nephew's
>deaths.  

TOM SERVO: Then he had a big fudge sundae and got over it.

>         Then the barrier between the Captain and the Doctor broke down.

MIKE: After only 57 episodes in which they both beat around the subject.

>Now the two were acting like love birds, which really annoyed Worf.
>Deanna smiled as the bell rang and the race began.

CROW: Because she knew which horse was scheduled to take a dive.

>        The announcer yelled out, "And they're off.  

TOM SERVO [singing]: The green light flashes, the flags go up.  Churning
                     and burning, they yearn for the cup....

>                                                     Warp Speed leads
>out of the gate, with Quarterdeck breed on his inside.  Lady Stargazer
>comes in from the outside.  

MIKE [as mother]: You wipe your feet, young Lady, and don't track mud all
                  over my clean floor!

>                            Code of Honor is next, with Romulan Dawn not
>far behind.  

CROW: But it's noon on Romulus!
TOM SERVO [singing]: They deftly maneuver, and muscle for rank....

>             Orphan trails the field.  

MIKE [as announcer]: ... with Annie and Dondi just behind.

>                                       As they head into the turn, Warp
>Speed remains in the lead, but Quarterdeck 

CROW [as announcer]: ... spins out, crashes into a wall and catches fire!
                     Let's hope the driver can pull himself out of there!

>                                           has dropped to third, Code of
>Honor racing along side him.  

MIKE: It's so typical in this day and age to see Honor falling by the
      wayside....

>                              We'll always have Paris has moved into
>fifth.  Down the back stretch, Warp Speed and Lady Stargazer have pulled
>a length on the field.  

CROW [as announcer]: And now Lady Stargazer pulls into the pit stop, where
                     the crew quickly replaces her legs and fills her with
                     methanol and coolant!

>                        A battle is shaping up between Code of Honor and
>Quarterdeck, they're neck and neck all the way down the stretch.  

MIKE [as announcer]: But enough about horse racing.  Let's find out how
                     the Yankees are doing!

>                                                                  Orphan
>is now fighting with Paris for fifth, with Romulan Dawn fading fast.

TOM SERVO: Hey, do you suppose the presence of "Orphan" is a subtle
           literary counterpoint to Marrissa's presence?
MIKE: No.  No, I don't think so.

>Into the final turn, Lady takes first from Warp, who takes it back
>again.  

CROW: Take, take, take... doesn't anybody *give* anymore?

>        Code of Honor takes third firmly from Quarterdeck as Quarterdeck
>breed stumbles, but recovers.  

TOM SERVO: ... in a twelve-step progam.

>                               Down the stretch they come, Lady leads
>Warp, and now Warp Lady, 

MIKE [as announcer]: Whoa!  They've had a sudden transporter accident and
                     merged into one!
CROW: Gotta admit, though, that would be a *perfect* name for Marrissa's
      horse.

>                         they are neck and neck as they come to the
>line.  It's Lady Stargazer by a head over Warp Speed.  And here comes
>the rest of the field lead by Code of Honor.  We'll always have Paris
>takes fourth, followed by Orphan and Quarterdeck breed.  Romulan Dawn
>has collapsed on the back stretch."

MIKE: And the crowd goes wild.
CROW & TOM [flatly]: Yay.

>        "Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, shall we go congratulate Marrissa?"
>Jean-Luc Picard suggested to his crew, smiling.
>        "I don't see why not," Doctor Crusher said.

TOM SERVO: Great, she can't lose in a science fiction story, and now
           she can't lose in a sports story.  What next, she becomes
           master of the Western story?
MIKE: Just be glad Steverino never wrote a romance.

>        As Marrissa walked her horse to cool Lady Stargazer off before
>heading to the winner's circle, 

CROW [as mechanic]: You need to get some good grade coolant in that
                    thing, and check the radiator, it'll probably be
                    overheating... oh, and the oil needs topping off, too.

>                                she approached Isabelle, who was doing
>the same with Warp Speed.  "Isabelle, would you accompany me to the
>winner's circle?" she asked.

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: She asked me!  She asked me!

>        "That's not done," Isabelle dismissed.
>        "Why not?" Marrissa said drawing up along side.

MIKE [as Isabelle]: Because it's completely raw on the inside!  You want
                    us all to get food poisoning?

>        "You won the race," Isabelle said.  "You deserve the glory."

CROW [as Isabelle]: *You're* the one Stephen has the weird fixation on.

>        "Normally, I'd agree, but Lady just won the Triple Crown,"
>Marrissa stated.  

MIKE: You know, I've seen more pride and excitement from people who've
      gotten a free coupon for 35 cents off a box of generic cereal
      than *anybody* at this race is showing.

>                  "You rode her though the first two of the races you
>have to win.  You deserve the trophy."

TOM SERVO: Let us now pause to reflect upon the logic of what we have
           just heard.
[Tom, Crow and Mike bow their heads in silent meditation.]
TOM SERVO: Any thoughts?
MIKE: I can hear my synapses just snapping, one by one, like brittle
      rubber bands...
TOM SERVO: Good answer.

>        "You know I don't think about that, a horse has never won the
>Triple Crown with more than one jockey riding her," Isabelle mused.

CROW: Probably because most saddles only seat one person.

>"Alright, on one condition, you get me out of the winner's circle
>without having to run the press gauntlet."

MIKE: Yeah, boy, the way the press acts you'd think there was a story 
      here or something.

>        "My communicator is under the uniform, and Clara is taking a
>shift at Space Dock Transporter Control," Marrissa informed, as the two
>rode toward the winner's circle.

TOM SERVO: And Starfleet just *loves* its multi-zillion dollar investment
           being used so that the Captain's daughter's friend doesn't
           endure thirty seconds of discomfort.
CROW: Once again, high tech triumphs over the fourth estate!  Let's give
      Treknology a great big hand!

>
>        "As Governor of the State of New York, it gives me great
>pleasure to 

MIKE [as Pataki]: ... bring back the death penalty, slash the state
                  university's funding and try to squeeze gas tax money
                  out of the Indian reservations.

>            award Lady Stargazer of Stargazer Stables and her jockeys,
>Isabelle Boucher and Marrissa Picard, this trophy for winning the
>Belmont Stakes and the Triple Crown," a tall man proclaimed, drawing out
>the moment way too long in Marrissa's opinion.  

CROW: But that's Ratliff for you.

>                                                "The whole state of New
>York is proud to host this race every year and will remember this year's
>contest between stable mates with great fondness."

TOM SERVO: Well, the fifteen people in the whole state who care about
           this stuff are proud, anyway.

>        At last the presentation was over, Marrissa embraced her father,
>and his command crew formed around her and the two horses.  

MIKE: Yes, he's finally rebuilding his staff around a competent crew!

>                                                            This made
>the press 

TOM SERVO: ... gag and retch.

>          take a step back to take some pictures, as the trainer,
>Michael White grabbed Lady Stargazer's leads, and Alexander, Warp Speed.
>Then Marrissa tapped the communicator attached to her bra strap through
>her clothes 

CROW: Why?  Why do these stories always take me someplace I *never*
      wanted to go?!

>            and ordered, 

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Pizza, one large.  No anchovies.

>                         "Lieutenant Picard to Space Dock Transporter
>Control, ready to beam up."

TOM SERVO [as Transporter Control]: That's nice.  So what?

>
>Epilogue

CROW: Epi-Lady.  Epicenter.  Epidermis.

>Return to Normal

MIKE: Uh, Steve, you left the quotes off that last word.

>
>        Clara watched as the two horses, and the former Enterprise staff
>materialized on her pad.  

CROW: She had trouble telling them apart.

>                          The eleven year old Ensign had volunteered for
>the shift at the Space Dock.  

TOM SERVO: Before she could be drafted at age twelve.

>                              She really didn't expect to get an
>assignment, or even duty time.  

CROW: She *definitely* didn't expect to have to clean up after large
      animals.
MIKE [as Clara]: Transporter room to maintenance, bring a shovel and a
                 couple of buckets.

>                                Duty time would help her when her father
>got an assignment.  

TOM SERVO: In what possible interpretation of the word "help"?

>                    She wanted to be of some use on the next starship
>she was on.  

CROW: Instead of screwing everything up *again*.

>             So when Marrissa suggested that she enquire about
>substituting during the Belmont, she'd jumped at the chance.  True she
>did miss the race, but she was sure that she'd be hearing about it from
>Marrissa for years to come.

MIKE: Marrissa's Glory Story Number 2038, she would come to call it.
TOM SERVO: I'm surprised she isn't lovingly cradling a phaser at the
           thought.

>        Her relief had just arrived, so Clara yielded the controls after
>setting the location and joined the group on the pad.  Captain Jean-Luc
>Picard ordered, "Beam us down, Chief."

CROW [as Perry White]: Don't call me Chief!
MIKE: Now *that's* a cameo appearance.

>        They materialized in the dark Stargazer Stables court yard.  

TOM SERVO: Where no reporter would *ever* think to look for them.

>                                                                     Two
>young boys came out of the darkness.  

CROW [as young boy]: Oh no, it's the boss!  Quick, pull your pants up!

>                                      "Jean, Francis, take Warp and Lady
>to their stalls," the trainer ordered.  "I want them both rubbed 

MIKE [as gangster]: ... out.

>                                                                 down
>and fed.  I don't want to see you at the party until that's done."
>        "Yes, Mike," Jean replied.
>        "We won't let you down sir," Francis said.

CROW [as Francis]: By the way, I've been thinking of changing my name
                   to Frances.  What do you think?

>        "Don't call me sir," Mike replied.  "You sound like damn
>Cadets."
>        As they walked down the darkened lane to the Picard Vineyard,
>Clara and Alexander moved to Marrissa's side.  "Who is that, Marrissa?"
>Clara inquired.

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Oh, just another adult I manipulated into doing my
                    bidding.  Their names all start to blend together
                    after a while.

>        "Where did you father find him?" Alexander asked.
>        "He's the trainer at the stables," Marrissa replied.  "He
>basically runs the stables.  I don't know where Dad found him."
>        "I believe I can answer that," Captain Picard said, appearing
>from behind them.  

ALL: YAAAHHH!!!
TOM SERVO: Don't *do* that!

>                   "Mikey was my first Chief Engineer.  When he retired,
>I and some other members of the crew set him up as horse trainer, a job
>he had always said he was more suited for.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: We found out how deluded he was when he started 
                    picking big, musclebound goons to be his jockeys.

>                                            Clara, you might want to ask
>him about his time on the Stargazer.  He doesn't get many young
>Engineers close to France."  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: *If* you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge.

>                             Then he retreated back to rejoin the slower
>moving adults.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Okay, now when they fall into the pit, we pretend
                    we couldn't see or hear them.  Remember that!  That's
                    our alibi.

>
>        Marie Picard greeted them at the door to the Picard Vineyard
>house.  "Welcome back," she said.  

CROW [as Marie, cheerily]: Even without Robert emotionally crushing me,
                           my life is still miserable!

>                                   "A buffet has been set up in the
>dining room, and you'll find the wine in the library.  

TOM SERVO [as Marie]: And if you want any books to read, try the wine 
                      cellar.

>                                                       I put Theresa to
>sleep on the third floor, 

MIKE [as Marie]: Such a shame, she was so young, but at least she
                 didn't suffer.

>                          so as long as you don't get too rowdy, we
>shouldn't have trouble."

CROW: Yeah, no noise could carry through an entire floor of an
      aged, wooden house.

>        "I promise you, Marie, we won't get loud until morning,"
>Jean-Luc Picard remarked.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: That's when I put a lamp shade over my bulb-shaped
                    head and become the heart and soul of the evening!

>        "You better not," Marie responded.
>        "Mrs. Picard," Isabelle interrupted.
>        "What is it Isabelle?" Marie asked.
>        "May I have a word with you, alone?" Isabelle asked.

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Pssst... midnight, we're making a break from this
                         one-captain town while he's sleeping it off... 
                         spread the word!

>        As Marie drew Isabelle to the kitchen, Jean-Luc remarked to
>Doctor Crusher, "I wonder what that was about?"
>        "Nothing you need to worry about, Jean-Luc," the Doctor replied.

MIKE [as Crusher]: It's just another predictable subplot.

>"Just don't give Isabelle any wine."
>        "Beverly, in France, there is only one reason to refuse wine..."
>Jean-Luc began. 

CROW: Death.
TOM SERVO: And even then, not always.

>               Then his eyes widened as he realized, "You don't mean
>that Rene got. . ."
>        "Just so," Beverly confirmed.

TOM SERVO: See if you can find the Rudyard Kipling references in this
           section.
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: You mean she and Rene...
CROW [as Crusher]: Yup.
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: And they didn't use...
CROW [as Crusher]: Nope.
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: And now she's going to have his...
CROW [as Crusher]: Uh-huh.
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Dammit, doctor, you know I hate it when you won't
                    let me finish a...
CROW: [as Crusher]: Too bad.

>        "You mean that you let her ride, knowing," Jean-Luc said.
>        "There was no real danger, Jean-Luc," Beverly said.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Am I ever going to get to complete a...
CROW [as Crusher]: Not while I'm around.

>                                                             "Not at
>this . . ."
>        Conversation was suddenly interrupted as the door burst open to
>reveal Phillippe Boucher.  

TOM SERVO: Oh good, now the *really* unpleasant people have arrived!
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Philippe!  What did I tell you about knocking first?

>                           Isabelle's father had looked better, to put
>it mildly.  

CROW: Like that one time he actually washed.

>            He staggered into the room, his hair and clothes a mess.  He
>reeked of alcohol.  

TOM SERVO: In other words, he looked like Scotty on a good day.

>                    "Where is my daughter?" he slurred.

MIKE: Line taken from every "serious" drama made in the last seven years.

>        "Isabelle is talking to Marie in the kitchen," the Captain said.

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: They're consulting with Dinah.

>"But you are in no condition to go anywhere."
>        "Got to find out who dishonored her," Mr. Boucher said.  "Can't
>have two bad children, Louise would have never stood for it."  

TOM SERVO: We'd have a reaction if we had a hint who Louise is.

>                                                               He lunged
>for the kitchen, only to find himself sprawled over a coffee table.

TOM SERVO: [imitates goofy sitcom pratfall music]
CROW: Wah wah wah WAAAAAAHHHHHHH...
MIKE: And that's why the French love their wine... it brings out the
      Jerry Lewis in everybody!

>        "Nobody dishonored Isabelle," Mike said as Mr. Boucher forced
>himself to stand.  "She just got honored for winning the Triple Crown."

TOM SERVO: So apparently Mike wasn't the brightest engineer Picard
           ever had.

>        "Not that way," Mr. Boucher said, as pulled a pamphlet out of
>his back pocket.  

MIKE: My God... RUN!  HE'S DRUNK AND HE'S PACKING LITERATURE!!!

>                  It was titled dealing with the early stages of
>pregnancy.

CROW [as Philippe]: Who's the bastard that let my daughter take a
                     sex ed class?!  I'll *kill* him!

>        "Mr. Boucher, she was engaged to Rene before he died," Marrissa
>put in, approaching the drunken father, but she was restrained from
>getting too close by Commander Riker's arm.

TOM SERVO [as Riker]: Stay back, Marrissa... *I'll* handle this.  I've 
                      dealt with this situation a *MILLION* times.

>        "I never heard of such a thing," Mr. Boucher replied.  "You
>lie."

MIKE [as Philippe]: Somebody would have *told* me if Rene died!

>        At that, Isabelle appeared in the Kitchen doorway.  She stared
>at her father, who could bearly stand.  Her eyes looked up at the
>ceiling and then she spoke up, softy yet loud, 

CROW [as Isabelle]: Why, oh why was I born a Kennedy?

>                                               "She does not, father."
>        "Isabelle," he exclaimed turning to face her.  He took a few
>trembling steps towards her.  

TOM SERVO: Joe Don Baker, in a role that won't surprise you.

>                              "Tell me it's not true.  Tell me that that
>boy didn't dishonor my daughter."

MIKE [as Isabelle]: Dad... you've seen Rosemary's Baby, right?

>        "Rene was every bit a gentlemen," Isabelle said.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: He had his butler do it rather than do the
                         work himself.

>                                                          "But I am
>bearing his child, and we were engaged."

CROW [as news anchor]: This bulletin just in... premarital sex depicted
                       in a Ratliff story!  Yes, folks, you heard it here
                       first.

>        "Why didn't you tell me?" Mr. Boucher asked.
>        "Because, I was afraid of your reaction," Isabelle said.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: And by the way, I'm *so* glad my fears were
                         unfounded.

>                                                                  "Rene
>wanted to announce our engagement right away, but I insisted we wait
>until at least after the Belmont.  I was afraid you'd forbid it, force
>me to stay away from him."

CROW: Oh, come on Isabelle!  You've heard of sneaking out the window,
      haven't you?

>        "You're right, I forbid it," Mr. Boucher said.  

ALL: [burst out laughing]
MIKE: Oh, *that's* gonna do a lot of good.
CROW [as Philippe]: You are *not* going to hang around that Rene boy's 
                    grim spectre, young lady!
TOM SERVO [as Philippe]: If I find you consorting with the undead, you
                         are *so* grounded!

>                                                        "I don't want
>you around the Picards or the Stables.  I can see I was wrong to let you
>work there.  

CROW [as Philippe]: From now on, you're going to be in a respectable
                    profession... T-shirt sales!

>             You'll come home with me right now and you will not be
>having that perverted Picard's baby."

MIKE [as Philippe]: When I get you home, you've got an appointment with a
                    straightened-out coat hanger, missy!
TOM SERVO: I'd just like to extend a general poll to everyone out there in 
           viewing land.  With a "Yes" or "No" ballot, we'd just like to
           know if this is the first time you've heard of monogamous,
           heterosexual intercourse referred to as "perverted".  Don't
           delay, get your vote in today!

>        "No," Isabelle said, still softly.

CROW [as Isabelle]: Papa, don't preach!  I'm *keeping* my baby!
MIKE: If she gets any softer, she's going to fold in on herself.

>        "What did you say, Isabelle Delunca Boucher?" Mr. Boucher said,
>his voice tinged with drunken anger.

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: I said: "What part of 'No' don't you understand?"
CROW: This scene was brought to you by Ratliff's Booze Council... need 
      help dealing with a sensitive family matter?  Try booze! 

>        "No," Isabelle said, getting louder.  "I will not let you ruin
>my life.  

MIKE [as Isabelle]: I'm going to ruin it *myself*!

>          I've managed to salvage it after Rene's death.  Sometimes only
>the fact that I'm carrying his child or the duties at the stable have
>made feel alive again. 

CROW: I bet ten years from now it turns out that this kid's really just 
      a Ferengi trick to get back at the Picard family....
MIKE: Stop free associating with bad episodes, Crow.  It makes my skin
      start to itch.

>                        I will not let you ruin that.  And the Picards
>have every right to see me.  

TOM SERVO [as Isabelle]: Look at it this way, Dad... the Picards are
                         God-on-Earth in this town!  If I play my cards
                         right, this kid could be hailed as the next
                         Messiah!

>                             I am not leaving, Father.  There is nothing
>you can do to stop that."

CROW [as Philippe]: What if I said "please"?

>        Isabelle stood in the doorway staring at her father, and the
>room descended into silence.  

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Well.  Um.  Did anybody see the new Babylon Five ep...
                    oh, no, I guess you wouldn't have at that.

>                              Then Mr. Boucher broke the silence,
>"Isabelle you're coming with me if I have to carry you."

TOM SERVO [as Philippe]: Don't make me get out the duct tape and the
                         duffel bag, young lady!                

>        "Not in the shape you're in, Father," Isabelle replied.  

CROW [as Isabelle]: Come back when you're a rhombus.

>                                                                 She
>turned and walked into the dining room.  Her father attempted to follow,
>but Worf blocked him.

TOM SERVO [as Worf]: Sorry sir.  We cannot allow you to go charging around
                     here like a bull in a china shop babbling about honor.
                     That's *my* job.

>        Mr. Boucher looked up at the towering Klingon and involuntarily

CROW: ... wet himself.

>gulped.  "I believe the young lady wants to be alone," Worf said.  Mr.
>Boucher trembled.

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Let him go, Mr. Worf.  The Prime Directive forbids us
                    to interfere.

>        "I believe you are right, Worf," Jean-Luc Picard remarked.  

CROW: Boy, you can see why he's the leader.

>                                                                    "Why
>don't you and Data help Mr. Boucher home."

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: I believe Philippe needs a rest... in Ward E.

>        "As you wish, Captain," Worf replied, hoping that Mr. Boucher
>would put up a fight.

MIKE: Worf really liked beating up on guys too drunk to fight back.

>
>        Marrissa found Isabelle sitting in the corner of the Dining
>Room.  Isabelle's eyes were red, as if she'd been crying, and she was
>curled up in a dining room chair.  "Are you coming back to the party?"
>Marrissa asked.

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Hey... is something wrong?
CROW: They've really got to rethink their entertainment options for the 
      next party.  Inviting the town drunk just fell totally flat.

>        "Is my father gone?" Isabelle asked, placing her feet back on
>the floor, but not making a move to leave the room.
>        "Yes, 

MIKE [as Marrissa]: We put him on a transport ship to Romulan space.

>              Commanders Worf and Data took him home," Marrissa said.
>"Hopefully he'll make more sense in the morning."

CROW [as Marrissa]: We'll wake him up at half past midnight and taunt him
                    to check.

>        "I doubt it," Isabelle smiled, standing up.  "He may have
>announced his decision while he was drunk, but he'll stand by it when
>he's sober. Dad's remarkable stubuarnant."

MIKE: Dad's remarkable wha-?
TOM SERVO: Steve, you've outdone yourself.  There's no word that's even
           *close* to sounding like "stubuarnant".

>        "I think it's a trait of all parents, especially fathers,"
>Marrissa replied.  

CROW [as Marrissa]: Of course, *my* dad's just putty in my hands, but
                    there's always an exception, right?

>                   "Are you ready to come back now?"

MIKE [as Marrissa]: Come on, don't get so down over a little family spat!
                    Let's party hardy!

>        "Just let me get some of that strange red fruit juice," Isabelle
>said, walking over to the table.  "I forgot what Mrs. Picard said it
>was, but it has no alcohol."

TOM SERVO [as Marrissa]: Oh, blood of my enemies, my favorite drink!
                         I'll get you a glass.

>        "It's strawberry juice, my favorite," Marrissa replied.  

ALL: [applause]
MIKE: Yes, the strawberry juice has another cameo!
TOM SERVO: It *is* our favorite character in these stories.

>                                                                 The two
>girls walked back towards the living room to rejoin the party.
>
>        Captain Picard surveyed the room.  

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: One point five degree declination over a length of
                    four point one seven meters... on the cross direction
                    a point seven four degree inclination over a length
                    of three point zero five meters...

>                                           Commander Riker and Counselor
>Troi were talking in one corner of the room.  

MIKE [as Troi]: No, I don't want to go upstairs and see your etchings.

>                                              Beverly, Marie, and young
>Isabelle were standing by the kitchen door, probably talking about
>babies.  

TOM SERVO: Seeing as how they're a bunch of women and all.

>         Marrissa, Clara, and Alexander were sitting on the sofa next to
>the fireplace.  

CROW: Isabelle's father was passed out in the corner, sucking in his
      own vomit.

>                Jean-Luc smiled, knowing his daughter, she was probably
>discussing some sort of tactics, either that or some sort of show she'd
>found in her recent discovery of Japanese Animation.  

MIKE: AAAH!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!  HURT!
CROW: Okay, who would win... Enterprise D or the Samurai Pizza Cats?

>                                                      Geordi LaForge was
>chatting with Mikey White, telling about the problems each had had as
>Chief Engineer on a starship.

MIKE [as La Forge]: So you never got any, either?

>        Worf and Data appeared at the doorway, having taken Isabelle's
>father home.  Data approached the Captain.  "Captain, Commander Worf and
>I delivered Mr. Boucher home," he said.  

TOM SERVO [as Data]: We stuffed him in a mailbox and stuck a postage
                     stamp over his mouth.  Was that wrong?

>                                         "Father Francis met us on the
>way over.  He said that he would take care of Mr. Boucher."

MIKE [as Data]: Sorry, sir, I meant to say "she".
TOM SERVO [as Data]: When we left, Father Frances was slamming Boucher's
                     head with a car door over and over again. 
CROW [as Data] Oh, and she wanted us to mention that the excommunication
               proceedings start tomorrow.  Enjoy the salt in your wounds,
               kid!

>        "Understood, Data," Jean-Luc Picard said, then he turned to the
>room at large.  He tapped on his wine glass, producing a loud chime,
>about a G above middle C.  

TOM SERVO: It's a good thing he told us the precise tone.  Just calling 
           it a "chime" would make it too vague for the average reader.

>                           "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an
>announcement."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: I'm pregnant.

>        The room quieted and everyone turned to face the Captain.  "On
>my way to our box at the Belmont, I ran into Admiral Necheyev," 

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: Because there just happened to be nothing better
                         in the whole universe for her to be doing.
MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: Fortunately, no one was injured.

>                                                                he
>began, smiling.  "She informed me that Star Fleet intends to 

CROW [as Jean-Luc]: ... use the reflection of light off my head to test
                    their equipment.

>                                                              commission
>a new Enterprise."  He paused a moment for that to sink in.  "They
>intend to ask me to command her again, and I'd like all of my crew to
>join me.  

TOM SERVO [as Jean-Luc]: Except for "Butterfingers" Riker... I'd like this
                         one to *not* be blown up, thank you.

>          The official announcement and orders are due to arrive
>tomorrow."

MIKE [as Jean-Luc]: But Marrissa's spies intercepted them yesterday.

>        "That's wonderful, Jean-Luc," the Doctor replied.
>        "What class of ship do we get?" La Forge inquired.

CROW: One with all the explosive stuff taken out.

>        "She'll be a Sovereign Class, the second off the line," Jean-Luc
>Picard said, then he turned to the Counselor with a twinkle in his eye.

TOM SERVO [as Santa Claus]: Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good
                            night!

>"And Counselor, I'm not letting you drive it until you can fly it better
>than my daughter."

MIKE: Um... was that supposed to be a punch line?
CROW: I think it was an Old Trek ending, or Love Boat ending, or
      something.  I can almost hear the laughter of the crew as
      the scene fades away...
ALL: [sigh contentedly]

>
>The End.

MIKE [dramatically]: Or... *is* it?
CROW: How about, it's THE END!!!!!!!
TOM SERVO: Too many exclamation points.
CROW: For the last Ratliff story?!  Not even close!

>
> --
> Stephen Ratliff                           CS Major, Radford University.

TOM SERVO: Guys... moment of silence for the dearly departed?
[Everyone bows their heads for a moment.]

> sratliff@runet.edu                       Radford, Virginia 24142-7496

MIKE: Och, Stephen, don't you know not to give out your Social Security
      Number over the Internet?  And he even misspelled *that*!

> rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target.         Marrissa Stories Author

CROW: You think he ever noticed the connection between "target" and 
      "author"?

> http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/
> FAQ Maintainer for alt.startrek.creative    FAQs/

MIKE: How much you want to bet that sometime in the past year he
      misspelled FAQ?

> Index Maintainer as well                  index/
>       http://aviary.share.net/~alara/
>
> "We better get use to living in the here and now"
>       - Captain Racheal Garrett, ST:TNG "Yesterday's Enterprise

TOM SERVO: We'd better get used to *leaving* here and now... 'cause I'm
           not sticking around!

[Everyone stands up.]

CROW: Hey Mike... were there any kings in "All The King's Horses"?
MIKE: Hmm... now that you mention it, I don't think there were.
CROW: FALSE ADVERTISING!  Get my lawyer on the phone!  *I'LL SUE*!!!

[Everyone leaves the theater.]

[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]

[Mike, Tom and Crow are standing in their usual places.]

MIKE: Well, folks, because we feel bad about the way we reacted to the
      news of Stephen Ratliff's tragic death... and because one of us is
      afraid of Ratliff's spirit coming back from the grave to haunt us...

CROW: Hey, you've seen Tales From The Crypt, right?  It could happen!

MIKE: Anyhoo, we've put together a little musical tribute to Ratliff and 
      the body of... um, literature that he left behind.  Hopefully this
      will not only soothe our guilty consciences, but also help Ratliff's
      departed soul to rest a little easier, wherever it may be.  All
      ready, guys?  Okay, Cambot, give us our note.  [A piano note is
      played, and Mike and the bots hum along with it.]  A-one... A-two...

[Suddenly the main doors in the background are forced open by a large,
 dirty and dishevelled man (who looks suspiciously like Kevin Murphy)
 who makes loud noises as he strains with the effort.  As he staggers
 into the room and the doors shut quickly behind him, we see that he is
 wearing a T-shirt that says "Ratliff Rules" and carrying an almost empty 
 whiskey bottle.  He staggers forward and almost falls, but he catches
 himself on the control panel as Mike dodges out of the way.]

MIKE: Uh... can we help you with something?  Are you lost?

DRUNK: Got to find out who did it!  Must punish the ones responsible!

MIKE: For...?

[The big drunk guy pulls himself unsteadily to his feet, and looks at Mike
 confusedly.]

DRUNK: Can't let Stephen Ratliff's killers run around loose!  The people
       of alt.startrek.creative would never stand for it!  He must be
       *avenged*!

MIKE: Ah, okay.  Maybe you hadn't heard, but Ratliff was killed by a
      fourteen year old girl who sped through a...

DRUNK: [interrupting] Oh, how stupid do you think I am?!  [Crow opens his
       mouth to speak, but Mike reaches back and forces it shut with one
       hand.  Without looking.]  That's just what they *want* us to think!
       Let me tell you something... that story might have fooled everybody
       else, but any *true* follower of Ratliff's stories knows that
       twelve year old girls just aren't that stupid!  And that means
       Ratliff's *real* killers are still out there!
       
MIKE: Hmm... hey, now that you mention it, there *was* a grassy knoll 
      near the accident scene.... [Crow and Tom start giggling.]

DRUNK: [angrily]  Oh, you think you're funny, huh?!  [The big drunk 
       starts poking Mike in the chest and starts generally getting in
       Mike's face.]  Let me tell you something, smart guy... I keep my 
       ear to the ground and I hear a lotta rumors!  You know what I've 
       been hearing lately?!  I hear there's some guys up on a satellite 
       who hated Ratliff's guts for *years* and would have *gladly* offed
       him if they got the chance!  [The big drunk starts yelling in Mike's
       face, and Mike looks more intimidated every second.]  I hear their
       leader's a goofy lookin' guy in a jumpsuit, and he's got a bunch of
       robots made out of toys and Tupperware to keep him company!  I hear
       they sit around sayin' all kinds of nasty stuff about Ratliff, 
       makin' threats and talkin' about how much better off they'd be if he
       were *dead*!  [The big drunk's face is now touching Mike's, and Mike 
       leans back as his aggressor presses forward.]  I hear one of 'em
       even tried to fake Ratliff's death for his own personal gain a while
       back!  See what I'm getting at here?!  Don't got any wisecracks
       *now*, huh, smart guy?  Now you listen close and gimme a straight
       answer before I pound your face in!  [The big drunk grabs Mike's
       jumpsuit and starts shaking him as he screams right in his face.]
       DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHERE I CAN FIND THESE GUYS?!?

[pause]

MIKE: [totally scared] Uh... no, no idea at all.  Never heard of 'em.
      Crow, you know anybody like that?

CROW: Doesn't ring a bell.  Sorry.

MIKE: How about you, Servo?

[Tom shakes his head no.]

[pause]

DRUNK: Oh.  Okay.  [He releases Mike, straightens up unsteadily, then
       picks up his whiskey bottle.]  I'm gonna get going now.  Sorry to
       bother you.  But if you ever see those guys, you tell 'em that
       when I find 'em, they're *dead*!

MIKE: I'll pass that message right along, sir.  You take care now.  [The
      big drunk staggers away to stage right.]  Whew.  Did anyone else
      see my life flash in front of their eyes?  Now what were we doing
      before... oh yeah, the song!  Maybe we can actually start it without
      being threatened with great bodily harm this time... ready guys?
      A-one... A-two...


The Kid's Crew Song
(sung to the tune of "The Kid's Song", by Moxy Fruvous)

ALL: We took the young 'uns from Trek
     All the minors from Trek
     Thought they needed major roles, and so we said "What the heck?"
     We teamed them up and turned the older people's brains into goo...
     It's a Ratliff show especially for you!

[Mike puts a cardboard sign around Tom's neck that reads "Jay Gordon".]

TOM SERVO [as Jay]: When we got trapped inside that elevator
                    The experience was quite a motivator!
                    Now we all work for Marrissa
                    (Boy, I'd really like to kiss her)
                    I just can't understand why anyone would hate her.

MIKE & CROW: Is there something you like?
TOM SERVO [as Jay, spoken]: Being second banana!
MIKE & CROW: Is there something you loathe?
TOM SERVO [as Jay, spoken]: Those darn dirty Romulans!
MIKE & CROW: Would you like to run the ship?
TOM SERVO [as Jay, spoken]: I can't be in command, I'm a kid!
MIKE & CROW: But what if you could be both?
TOM SERVO [as Jay, spoken]: Hey, that would be super-neat!

MIKE & CROW: Well, we'll try and see what we can do...
TOM SERVO: Let's change the Star Trek world!
MIKE & CROW: And get you in the Kid's Crew...

[Mike puts a cardboard sign around his neck that reads "Richard Boucher".]

MIKE [as Richard]: I fought Marrissa, and she practically destroyed me
                   When she threw me in the pond it sure annoyed me!
                   But when I found out that you
                   Could tell Starfleet what to do
                   I just had to see if maybe you'd employ me...

CROW & TOM: Is there something you like?
MIKE [as Richard, spoken]: Pushing people around!
CROW & TOM: Do you think you're fit to lead?
MIKE [as Richard, spoken]: Sure, just like my dad!
CROW & TOM: What's your Kobayashi?
MIKE [as Richard, spoken]: Best in my class at the Citadel!
CROW & TOM: You're exactly what we need!
MIKE [as Richard, spoken]: Great!  When do I start?

CROW & TOM: So we'll try and see what we can do...
MIKE: Let's change the Star Trek world!
CROW & TOM: And get you in the Kid's Crew...

[Mike puts a cardboard sign around Crow's neck that reads "Marrissa Amber
 Flores Picard".] 

CROW [as Marrissa]: I do many things you might consider crimes.
                    You may think they fit no reasons and no rimes,
                    But I always come in first
                    So my ego's fit to burst!
                    Jay Gordon says I look like LeAnn Rimes.
                    (Three rimes!)

MIKE & TOM: Is there something you like?
CROW [as Marrissa, spoken]: Being in command!
MIKE & TOM: Is there something you endorse?
CROW [as Marrissa, spoken]: Strawberry pizza!
MIKE & TOM: Do you kinda miss your parents?
CROW [as Marrissa, spoken]: Well, not so you'd notice...
MIKE & TOM: Can you ride a mean horse?
CROW [as Marrissa, spoken]: Hi ho, Lady Stargazer!  AWAY!!!

MIKE & TOM: Well, we'll try and see what we can do...
CROW: Let's change the Star Trek world!
MIKE & TOM: And get you in the Kid's Crew...

ALL: Now the kids have held court 
     And we're glad to report
     That from now on you'll take orders from the young and the short!
     In fact, adults should only speak up as a final resort
     When there's a grown-up problem through which one must sort.
     Trust us, military living is a sport!
     If you need us we'll be backyard in our new treefort.


[The Mads light turns on.]

MIKE: What do you think, sirs?  And madam?

[Mike hits the Mads light.]

[Castle Forrester]

[Pearl is standing behind a young man with glasses who bears a suspicious
 resemblance to Paul Chaplin.  She has her hands on his shoulders and is
 smiling widely.  Bobo and Observer are standing on either side of her.]

PEARL: Oh, how very nice of you to ask!  Well, I *think* there's a budding
       young writer here who's just *dying* to meet you!  Stephen, say
       hello to the nice test subjects up there....

RATLIFF [waving his hand and sounding shy]: Hi.

[Disclaimer: This Ratliff is a work of fiction, and is not intended to ]
[            accurately simulate the behavior of any actual Ratliffs,  ]
[            living or dead.                                           ]

[SOL]

[Mike, Tom and Crow are in total shock.]

MIKE: Wait a minute!  How could he be... no.  You *couldn't*.
TOM SERVO: You *wouldn't*!
CROW: You *DIDN'T*!

[Castle Forrester]

PEARL: Could, would and did, fellas!  [Pearl puts an arm around Bobo's
       shoulders]  You see, it turns out that Chewbacca over here has
       been collecting mosquitoes trapped in amber for *years*.  And
       guess whose blood just happened to be in one of those little
       buggers?

BOBO: You never know when one of those bits of amber will come in handy,
      I always say!

PEARL: Exactly.  [Pearl puts her other arm around Observer's shoulders.]  
       So after Brain Guy over here extracted the DNA and grew a clone,
       we hooked it up to an apparatus connected to a lightning rod...
       Dr. von Frankenstein just down the road always lets us borrow stuff
       like that, he's such a nice man.  After that, we flew the body out
       to the Genesis planet for burial.  [Pearl takes her arms off Bobo 
       and Observer and puts her hands back on Ratliff's shoulders.]  And
       three days later, lo, the stone was rolled away, and just *look* who
       came out!  [Pearl gives Ratliff a little hug from behind.]

[SOL]

[Mike, Tom and Crow are standing with their mouths dangling open as Gypsy
 enters from the left.]

GYPSY: Oh, Mike, I tracked down the source of that anomaly with Cambot.
       There was a transmission from Castle Forrester, and... [Gypsy turns
       to see what the others are looking at, and pauses.]  Oh my.

[Castle Forrester]

RATLIFF: Oh yeah, that was me.  Sorry about that.  I just wasn't sure if
         you guys were going to catch the South Pacific reference or not.

PEARL: Now Stephen, I've got a nice little wing of the castle all set
       aside for you... there's an Internet-ready Pentium II with a T1
       connection, a big-screen TV with a VCR, and a complete collection
       of every Star Trek episode and movie that's ever been made!  Would
       you like to stay here and live with us?

RATLIFF: Oh boy, *would* I!  Thanks, Aunt Pearl!

PEARL: [looking Ratliff in the eyes] No, Stephen... thank *you*.  [They
       hug as tears well up in Pearl's eyes.]  And no one's *ever* taking
       you away from me again....

[Camera slowly fades away to the ending credits.]

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

My thanks go out to:

MY CO-WRITERS, who sent in great lines and waited patiently for me to 
               slowly assemble a group MSTing from them.

STEPHEN RATLIFF, who took a slightly more active role in helping someone 
                 to give his work the MSTing treatment this time around.

MICHAEL NEYLON, who helped give us the reader feedback we all crave with 
                his web site MSTing ratings and the MSTing awards.

JENNIFER THOMAS, who gives suggestions and feedback on all of my MSTings
                 (and who inexplicably agreed to marry me :-).

THE SCI-FI CHANNEL, who kept MST3K on the air for another season.

MOXY FRUVOUS, who wrote a song that fit the Ratliff genre so well that
              the final six lines only needed a few word changes to suit
              my purposes (the rest of it needed slightly more radical
              alteration).

With fond farewells to:

FRANK SINATRA
Goodbye, Frank.  You were enjoyed.

and

JEFFREY BUBB
He climbed every mountain.  I hope he found his dream.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

>                                                 I thought the whole
>thing was ridiculous."