Mystery Usenet Theater 3000: "Athena Prospects: The Papaya Edition" By Stephen Ratliff Misted by: Matt Blackwell Bart Fargo Amanda Flowers Sarah Heiner Karen Kallestad Jeffrey Ray Roberts TV's Francis Dedicated to the Memory of DeForrest Kelly, who never had the privilege of appearing in a Ratliff story. He'll be missed. "Any one know a way to sabotage a space shuttle?" - Stephen Ratliff, 29 Jan 1998 rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc [Season 10 Opening Sequence] [The Bridge of the SoL] [Tom and Crow are at the command console. Crow's in front of a keyboard and monitor; Tom's in front of a laptop. Crow occasionally taps away at the keyboard while Tom pecks at the laptop with his beak.] Tom: Okay. Round 8. You get first pick. Crow: I take Paul Prudhomme. Tom: And I'll take Emeril Lagasse. [Mike dashes in, newspaper in hand.] Mike: Hey guys! [The bots 'Shh!' Mike.] Bots: Shh! [See? Just like that.] Tom: Do you mind? Mike: Sorry. But this is kind of important . . . Crow: Mike, we're at a very critical stage in our rotisserie league baseball draft. Tom: We're just about ready for round 9. . I'll take . . . let's see. . . Wolfgang Puck and Molto Mario. Crow: I'll take the two fat ladies. Mike: The two fat ladies? I thought these were *baseball* teams. Tom: It's *rotisserie* baseball, Mike. Anyone can toss a little ball around and hit it with a stick. How many so-called professional players can grill a leg of lamb to a perfect medium rare? Can Cal Ripken create just the right blend of spices to dry-rub a pork loin? Can Mark McGwire stir up a fresh herb marinade for grilled zucchini shish kebobs? I think not. Crow: Less yakking, more trading. You can have the two fat ladies back. I want those grillin' and chillin' guys. Tom: Should I put the Frugal Gourmet at catcher or shortstop? Crow: Shortstop. Definitely. His roasted garlic chicken is to die for. Mike: Uh, guys, this *is* kind of important. Tom: [exasperated] Oh, come on, Mike. It's not like it's the end of the world or anything. Mike: Actually, it is. There's a giant rock heading straight towards the Earth! Crow: Wait, is this a rock an asteroid, like in Armageddon or Moonfall? Tom: Or is it a comet, ala Deep Impact or Lucifer's Hammer? Crow: Hey, maybe it's a disguised spaceship! That'd be neat! Tom: Or it could be a giant ball of garbage.. Mike: Guys? It's just a really big rock. Bots: [despondently] Oh. Tom: So what's your point, Mike? Mike: It's our big chance to get out of here! If I can destroy it, I'll save the world! I'll be a hero! They'll send a space shuttle up to bring us back to Earth! [The bots stare at Mike for a moment, then burst into laughter.] Crow: Oh, *you're* going to save the world? Tom: Good one, Mikey. Mike: Hey! What's so funny about me saving the world? [The bots laugh even harder. After a few moments, they recover enough to respond.] Tom: [still chuckling] Well, we'll be nice and not mention that "Destroyer of Worlds" schtick of yours. Crow: You honestly think you can save the world? Mike: I've done it before! Tom: When? Mike: Well, I saved Mobius from those shapeshifters... Crow: Canon, Mike. Stick to canon, please. Mike: Fine. [pause] How about when I saved the universe from those pod-snatchers? Tom: Bobo did that. Mike: But I told him to do it! Crow: Doesn't count. Mike: But what about when we captured the power source for Pearl's doomsday device? Tom: You made us send it back to Pearl. Crow: [typing on his keyboard] Forget it, Mike. The world's already been saved. Mike: What? How . . . who . . . Tom: Eloquence like that makes us treasure these special moments. Crow: Some NASA astronauts, while they were heading to Mars, jury-rigged an explosive using a can of hair spray, a lighter, a furby, and a brillo pad. Mike: How do you know all this? Crow: It's all right here on www.saving-the-world-from-a-big- giant-rock-while-on-our-way-to-mars.com Tom: Really? I would have thought that would be more of a dot-org. Mike: Great. Now I'll never get to save the world. Tom: Hey, just destroy the negative for Yahoo Serious' new film. That should count as saving the world. Crow: Oh, no! This can't be true! It just can't be! Mike: [hopefully] What is it? Another threat to Earth's existence? Something that could turn our beloved planet into a smoldering, misshapen mass of molten rock? Crow: Worse. Much worse. [Crow starts sobbing] Mike: What is it? What could be that bad? Crow: Larry Bly and Laban Johnson! They've been black balled! Tom: No, Crow! Say it ain't so! Why? Crow: They got caught corking a souffle! Tom: Damn! There goes my bullpen! [The light to Castle Forrester begins to flash.] Mike: Oh well. I see that Shoemaker, Levy and Hale-Bopp are calling. [Mike presses the Castle light.] [Castle Forrester] [Hundreds of lit candles are arrayed across the room. In the background is an altar. Bobo, dressed in a black robe, and Observer, also dressed in a black robe, which isn't really that unusual for him, chant in front of the altar. Pearl enters.] Pearl: [whispering] Hi Mike. [SoL] Mike: Hey Pearl. Is it time for a sacrifice to Nylarlothep again? [Mike and the bots chuckle.] [Castle Forrester] Pearl: [whispering] You're not far off, Mike. Since I've been unable to find anything that will utterly break your spirit, I decided to have Bobo and Brain Guy perform an arcane ceremony in an effort to conjure up a story bad enough to end your pathetic existence. [Bobo and Observer chant louder and louder, and suddenly, there's the crash of thunder, lightning sizzles, and a voice is heard from offstage] Demonic Voice: [O.S.] Who dares summon the forces of darkness? Pearl: I did... DV: [O.S.] Whomever is foolish enough to summon us needs to wait as all our minions of darkness are currently assisting other dabblers in the occult. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available devilish representative. [A muzak version of "The Girl from Ipanema" begins to play loudly.] Pearl: Damn. And I was sure Beelzebub had a devil set aside for me. We'll be right back. [Commercials] [Back in Castle Forrester, Pearl is still on hold. In the background, Observer paints a landscape, while Bobo leans idly against a wall, reading a copy of Scientific Gorilla - American. Pearl paces nervously while a muzak version of "Escape" (aka 'The Pina Colada Song') plays in the background.] Pearl: [mumbling] Come on already. [The music stops, replaced by another demonic voice.] DV: [O.S.] Technical support, may I have your license number? Pearl: [mumbling] About time. [normal] Yes, it's 666-734-14345- 9923. DV: [O.S.] What is the nature of your request? Pearl: Well, I need a really bad story delivered to me... DV: [O.S.] Ma'am, on-site support requires our Sulfur Plus program... Pearl: ...which I have. DV: [O.S.] I don't see that on my screen.... Pearl: Check again. DV: [O.S.] Ma'am, I can assure you that if I don't see it... Pearl: Damn you! I have the plan! Check again! DV: [O.S.] Okay, lady, just settle down. Lemme search the database again. And there's not much point in saying "damn you" to me. Kind of redundant. Get it? Redundant? [Pearl glares at the camera.] DV: [O.S.] Just a little demonic humor there. Ahhh, I see the problem. Your contract was originally entered under the name of a "Clayton Forrester" . . . [keyboard sfx] It looks like the only way it devolves on you is if the aforementioned Clayton Forrester were to become a star-baby [smug laughter, then more keyboard sfx] Oh. Well. Um... [Pearl grins maniacally] DV: [O.S.] Whaddayaknow. Thought for sure we had you on that clause. Onsite service, coming right up. Pearl: [mumbling] Ha. Clayton griped at paying $99.95 for the service plan, but who's laughing now? [With a *pop*, a red-suited devil, carrying a pitchfork, appears.] Pitch: Hi there! You had need of our demonic assistance program? Pearl: I guess so. See, [she motions towards the camera] we've got these doofi stuck up on this satellite and I need a story so horrible that it will completely break their will. Pitch: Hmmm. [Pitch reaches down, picks up a briefcase and begins rummaging through it.] Pitch: I gotta B5/Are You Being Served crossover. Chicken Soup for the Damned Soul. A JarJar Binks/Yoda slash fanfic, a Star Wars crossover called "Buffy the Empire Slayer," Armageddon - Pearl: The script or Armageddon fanfic? Pitch: Actually, it's a first hand account of the battle. Andy Rooney wrote it! Pearl: [shuddering] Next! Pitch: Oh, here's something --- oh, wait a minute. How did that get in here? This was never supposed to leave the ninth circle of Hell. [He starts to cram it back into the briefcase, but Pearl grabs it. She gasps, then clasps the manuscript to her bosom and smiles evilly.] Pearl: A fanfic sent from the very bowels of hell. What a gift from the forces of darkness. Thank you, Patch. Pitch: That's Pitch. Pearl: Whatever. Mike, bottsies, do you recall a series of fanfics starring the most annoying blonde since Jenny McCarthy? [SoL] Mike: Oh no. You don't mean ... Tom: Marrissa.... Crow: Amber... Mike: Flores... Tom: Picard... Crow: Gordon... Mike: Fortensky... Tom: Rodman. Mike: Rodman? Tom: He was drunk. Mike: Ah. [Castle Forrester] Pearl: The very same. She's evil, she's power-mad, she torments people in out in space, she's blonde - remind you of anyone you know? Now, Putz here... Pitch: That's Patch, ma'am. I mean Pitch. Pearl: Whatever. Red boy here has given me a revision of one of Stephen Ratliff's most putrid little gems. [SoL] Crow: "There's Nothing Like a Dame?" Mike: "Kentucky Derby?" Tom: "TrekSmut University?" [Crow begins to scream loudly.] Mike: Crow? What's wrong? Crow: I...I just remembered. What story is Ratliff least proud of? Tom: Dear lord. Not *that* one! Crow: Think of the children! Mike: Pearl! Even a person as evil as you wouldn't show *that* to us again! If you have even an ounce of human decency... [Castle Forrester] Pearl: Hmm. Nope. I don't seem to have that ounce. Sorry. [Her grin grows even wider] Your experiment today is Stephen Ratliff's "Athena Prospects", which just happens to be a revision of... "Time Speeder." Needless to say, we won't be speaking again. Pitch: Excuse me? We need to discuss the purchase terms for this story. I believe a soul is in order...? Pearl: Excuse me. *I* didn't summon you. Those guys back there did. Talk to them. Pitch: Of course. My mistake. [Pitch begins to walk towards the sidekicks.] Pearl: Anyway, "Athena Prospects." Shrivel up and die, Mike. [SoL] [The Ratliff sign is flashing, but the crew doesn't react.] Tom: We have to read Time Speeder? AGAIN? Crow: Thisisn'thappening. Thisisn'thappening... Mike: Okay guys. Let's keep our chins up. It can't possibly be as bad as the original... What am I saying? Of course it can! We're all doomed! All: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE'VEGOT RATLIFF SIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Mike hesitantly hits the light, and the door sequence begins...] [6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ] [Mike and the bots trudge very slowly towards their seats.] Crow: Time Speeder. I can't believe we're reading Time Speeder again. Tom: Mike? This can't really be happening, can it? Mike: Enough! Guys! We can make it through this if we just stick together! We survived "Eye of Argon" didn't we? Crow: Well, yeah... Mike: We made it through "Blood and Metal", right? Tom: Yeah! Mike: We survived "I'm Dreaming of a Coruscant Christmas", didn't we? Bots: Yes! Mike: We survived "X" and "The Project" and "A Short Walk" and all of those Sonic stories! Bots: YES! Mike: Surely we can survive a rewritten "Time Speeder"! Bots: AHHHHH!!!!!!!! TIME SPEEDER!!!!!!!! Mike: It's going to be a long night. >From sratliff@runet.edu Thu Apr 01 09:43:18 1999 >Path: ix.netcom.com!newsfeed.enteract.com!netnews.com! >news-peer1.sprintlink.net!news-backupwest.sprintlink.net! Crow: That's it. We're switching back to AT&T. >news.sprintlink.net!hearst.acc.Virginia.EDU! Tom: Sorry. Even putting that in caps won't convince me that Virginia has educational facilities. >newslink.runet.edu!not-for-mail >From: sratliff@runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff) Mike: o/~Stephen, Stephen Ratliff. King of the final frontier! o/~ >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative, > alt.startrek.creative.all-ages Mike: I thought there were laws against child labor. Crow: Huh? Mike: Well, reading a Ratliff story is more work than 30 years as a Microsoft tech support operator. Crow: Good point. >Subject: REP Athena Prospects 0-4/11 (Marrissa Stories) >Supersedes: <7e042a$blu@newslink.runet.edu> >Date: 1 Apr 1999 15:43:18 GMT Tom: April 1? Oh, *please* say this is an April Fool's joke! Mike: Sorry, Tom. I think it's just coincidence. Tom: Dang. >Organization: Radford University >Lines: 401 >Approved: asca@pnx.com Crow: Oh, thank you *so* much for approving this post, asca@pnx.com. >Message-ID: <7e046m$blu@newslink.runet.edu> >NNTP-Posting-Host: rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu >X-Newsreader: TIN [UNIX 1.3 950824BETA PL0] Mike: PLO? Crow: Yeah. Pining for a Large Outage. >Xref: ix.netcom.com alt.startrek.creative:107469 >alt.startrek.creative.all-ages:1743 > > >Title: Athena Prospects Tom: Athena's Prospects aren't that good. >Author: Stephen Ratliff Mike: As always, be afraid. Be very afraid. >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories #10 >Rating: [G] >Codes: n/a >Parts: NEW 0-4/11 > >Summary: >Shortly After Marrissa leaves the Enterprise-E to serve as Second >Officer on the Stargazer, a group of extremists steal a starship >and attempt to change the past. Mike: While the faction's moderates voted to give sanctions more time. > With the help of the Clintons, All: GAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! >Marrissa, Wesley, and the crew of the Stargazer must stop them >from stopping the first manned mission to Mars. > Tom: It's hurting already! Mike: Calm down, it hasn't even started yet. Crow: Ever experience Deja Vu? >Title: Athena Prospects Tom: Instead of a time-traveling Wesley Crusher falling in love with Chelsea Clinton, we have the Greek goddess of wisdom panning for gold. Crow: Yeah, but other than that, it's pretty much the same. >Author: Stephen Ratliff Mike: Say what you will, but at least his titles are improving. >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories #10 Mike: It seems more like #10,000. [sighs] Crow: Issue #10? Isn't that the first appearance of Catwoman? >Rating: [G] Crow: Rated G. Even small children may share in the horror. Tom: [sobbing] Noo! Not the children... Mike: Are you forgetting that all the children in these stories are superior to the adults? They can take it. >Codes: n/a Crow: Look, it's coded for 'no action.' Mike: Or 'not appealing.' Tom: Or Sir 'Not Appearing' in this fanfic. >Parts: Crow: ...the Marrissa Horror. > NEW 1/1 Tom: This story's ratio is one-to-one, that's good. > >Summary: >Shortly After Marrissa leaves the Enterprise-E to serve as Second >Officer on the Stargazer, Mike: A rather large party was held by her former crewmates. A good time was had by all. > a group of extremists steal a starship >and attempt to change the past. Tom: If I had a spaceship, I'd just go cruising for chicks. Mike: Tom, we're already on a spaceship. Tom: Say... > With the help of the Clintons, Bots: GAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Mike: Hey, this is sounding familiar... >Marrissa, Wesley, and the crew of the Stargazer must stop them >from stopping the first manned mission to Mars. > Mike: Manned? Shouldn't that be *personed*? Crow: Personed and/or botted. Tom: You're both so species-ist. It's the first 'sentient-beinged' mission... Mike: Hmmm, sentient - guess that means no Ratliff characters are aboard. >Author's Forward. > Tom: Actually, I've always imaging Ratliff to be rather reserved. Mike: Tom? You've used that one before. Tom: Hey, if Ratliff can reuse an entire plot, I can reuse one riff. > This was Time Speeder. Tom: (singing Goldfinger theme): Time Speeder! Crow: Bwa-Bwa-Bwaaaa! Mike: Time Speeder is dead. Long live Time Speeder. > It's change a lot. Tom: Well, at least Ratliff's proofreading is still the same. Crow: "Time Speeder" has now been reduced to nickels and quarters? > Back when I >released Time Speeder, I was over confident. Tom: We were over confident and the ruddy Punjab's captured our base camp! > Only once I had >released it did I realize Tom: Why all of Usenet wants to give me a giant cyberwedgie. > what a mess that story was. Mike: Only when we READ it did WE realize what a mess it was... > Revising a >story isn't easy, especially when sequels are already out. Mike: Well then, don't. Tom: If your story stinks, move on! Crow: Suck it up! Take it like a man! >Certain events have to happen. Tom: Events are kinda funny that way. > The basic plot has to stay All: STAAAAAAY! >(although it can mutate in strange and annoying ways.) Mike: Like a horrible, insidious cancer, mutating, growing, choking out all life and leaving behind only death, despair, and grounds for a lawsuit from Chelsea Clinton. > In the >case of this story, Mike: As solved by Encyclopedia Brown... > I was revising it while those other stories >were being written, so a lot of the changes were revealed first >in those stories. (Much to the confusion of many of my readers) Crow: Actually, we were confused from story 1, page 1. >That may have been a mistake. Tom: Ya think?! Mike: Just go write a story where they change the timeline, all of these 'fics never happen, and we don't have to read them! Crow: [sarcastically] Great idea, Mike. > In any case, a lot has changed. Tom: Second verse, same as the first. > Gone are Senators Robb and >Warner (although they did get a mention) Mike: An honorable mention? > Gone is the >Congressional Plot. Crow: Then where will they be buried? Mike: Witness as Ratliff boldly revises previously established continuity! > In its place is a new one, one with more >action, a more southerly setting, Crow: The "Time Speeders/Gone With the Wind Crossover!" Tom: [Butterfly McQueen] Lawsy, I don't know nuthin' bout writin' no fanfics! Mike: As God is my witness, I'll never read Ratliff again. > and one that I think fits the >characters better. Tom: Then again, what setting DOESN'T fit the tale of the universe's most powerful adoptee? Mike: I'd like to see her take on the Crimean War. > What's up next for the Marrissa Stories? Crow: [Ratliff] Will they include beloved characters, such as Marrissa? > Well, I'm >currently working on a story set after the Last Romulan War, >among many others. Tom: That one small phrase is more frightening than all of Stephen King's works put together. > I'm also looking for a job, Mike: I can't believe the Fox network hasn't snapped Steve up by now. Tom: [announcer voice] World's Most Annoying Teenage Heroine! Tonight at 8, right after World's Most Atrocious Grammar, World's Most Implausible Plot Devices and When Romulans Attack! > so Marrissa >Stories may come a lot slower from now on. Tom: Thank heavens for a strong job market! Mike: You want some help with your resume, Stephen? > In any case, please enjoy the latest installment of the >Marrissa Stories, Athena Prospects. > Tom: Oh, thanks a lot. >Stephen Ratliff >Roanoke, VA >December 23, 1998 > Mike: Ahh, a Christmas present to the world. Crow: It's enough to make me a Wiccan. >Historian's Note: > Crow: Any similarity between this story and actual history is purely coincidental. >This story occurs after A Royal Mess and Home for Christmas. Crow: Meanwhile, it IS A Royal Mess, and wasn't out in time for Christmas. > It >occurs before First Contact. Premier Maquis follows it. Tom: But nothing can follow Premier Maquis. > > >101374 >Prologue > Mike: You'd think, after all this time, I'd be inured to Ratliff stories. > Lyam Sympton looked normal. Mike: And then I read opening sentences like this... Tom: So does Liam Kincaid, and he's 75% Jaridian. > You would have never guessed >that those brown eyes and brown hair covered a obsessed man. Tom: Wow...I feel like I've known him all my life. Mike: Ew, look at all those eyes and hair. How do you call *that* normal? Crow: Well, it didn't say normal for a human. >Most people believed that Star Fleet was an organization devoted >to Science and Exploration, which also protected the Federation's >borders. Tom: Along with Research and Development, with occasional help from Marketing. > Lyam believed that it was a military organization just >waiting for an opening to take over the Federation. Tom: He also believed that OJ was innocent, Clinton never inhaled, and was overheard saying to Pamela Anderson, "You know, those are so obviously REAL". > He was >willing to die for his convictions, and he wasn't the only one. Crow: He had gathered a group of easily convinced, well-trained lemmings... >So were his fellow members of Exploration Not Exploitation or >ENE, as the press referred to them. Crow: That's more of a slogan than an organization. Mike: They have three sister organizations: MEANE, MINY and MO. > However times being what they where, he did not need to die. Tom: He could use his new electric dying machine. >He had a plan instead. Mike: A man, a plan, an obsession: Ratliff. > In order to carry out that plan however >he needed a constitution class starship. Mike: A starship with a strong constitution. > This was not an easy >item to find but if you Tom: ...try some time, you just might find, you get what you need. > looked hard enough one could be bought or >'borrowed'. Crow: Oh, just head over to eBay. They've got everything. > As for why he wanted one, that was simple, perhaps too >simple. Tom: Yes, that's just what they'd expect, wouldn't they? > Seeking more information to further his theory on Star >Fleet a friend of his had tapped into Star Fleet's mission log >recorders; Mike: [as friend] It was simple, really. The password was 'SP0CKR00LZ.' > in particular, those of the original Enterprise. Lyam >had laughed at the irony [Crow opens his mouth.] Mike: One word about Alanis, and you're going straight out the airlock. [Crow sheepishly closes his mouth.] > that Star Fleet would provide it's own >undoing. > Mike: So the undoing of Star Fleet is Captain Kirk's little black book? Tom: Here it is - Orion slave girl, green is definitely her color, 3 stars; Yeoman Rand, wild when she lets her hair down, 3 1/2 stars; Edith Keeler, sorry about the truck thing, 4 stars; Elizabeth Dehner, weird eyes, 2 1/2 stars; Lt. Uhura, great kisser, 3 1/2 stars; . . . > Marrissa Amber Picard, Chief of Security, USS Enterprise, Tom: Is that all? Doesn't she have the other 75 titles yet? >was lounging on her bed, with a pillow propped under her breast Mike: Just one!? Tom: AHHH! She's an Amazon! >and a PADD in her right hand. Crow: So, is this a Trek fan-fic, or the "What's Happening to My Body?" Book for Girls? Tom: Yes. > Her left hand was twirling her >long blond hair Tom: ...around a fork. She absentmindedly mistook it for spaghetti. > while she read the latest issue of Star Fleet's >Starship Captain's Adventures. Mike: Sounds like a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' book. Crow: If you fire your phasers, turn to page 86. If you fire your photon torpedos, turn to page 87. > She was smiling at Captain James >T Kirk's Corbinite Maneuver. Tom: That's where he disguises himself as Corbin Bernsen so he can make a pass at Amanda Pays. > "Incoming call for Lieutenant >Marrissa Picard from the USS Miranda," the Computer announced. Mike: [computer] And that's my only line. > Marrissa jumped off the bed, pushed her hair back behind her >shoulders Crow: ...shooed her latest male conquest into the next room... > and faced her view screen. Tom: God forbid you should spare us a detail, Ratliff! > "On Screen," She ordered. A >red haired vulcan appeared. Mike: Red hair? That's a Leprechaun, not a Vulcan! Crow: [Lucky] Oh, no! Now the kids are sendin' Starfleet after me Lucky Charms! > "Lieutenant Marrissa Picard I presume?" Marrissa nodded. Mike: [Marrissa] If you DIDN'T know, I'd have had you shot! >"I'm Captain T'Gwen Tom: Stephani?! > Washington. Tom: Oh. > I've accepted your application >as Fighter Commander on the Stargazer. You'll also be serving as >its second officer." Crow: [Washington] He likes his breakfast in bed, and light starch for his uniform. Mike: No, Crow. Serving *as.* Crow: Oh. Drat. > "Thank you sir," Marrissa responded. "I assume that my >father has indicated that he will let me go?" Bots: o/~ Let her go! o/~ Mike: o/~ He will not let her go! o/~ Bots: o/~ Let her go! o/~ > "He has." Tom: [T'Gwen] By the way, what do the phrases "Hell, yeah" and "She's all yours" mean? Your father used them quite extensively... > "Then when and where should I report aboard?" Marrissa >asked. Tom: [T'Gwen] Well, it's not exactly aboard... you'll be scraping space barnacles off the hull while we're in orbit. > "The Stargazer will be rendezvousing with the Enterprise in >two days," Captain Washington responded. "Admiral Scott will >yield command you then. Crow: [T'Gwen] He'll also turn over the ship's prepositions at that time. > You will meet up with me and our >Cardassian First Officer at Deep Space Nine." Crow: You will never find a more wretched hive of blandness and mediocrity. > "Aye sir," Marrissa responded. "It will be a pleasure >serving with you." > "Oh and one more thing," Captain Washington said. Mike: [T'Gwen] We're a substance-free workplace, so no strawberry juice. Tom: Just what the Hec Ramsey IS a substance-free workplace, anyway? Crow: The UPN programming department, the set of Kathie Lee Gifford's show, the Microsoft marketing division, plus outer space, I guess. . . > "Since >you'll be serving as Second Officer, I'm promoting you to >Lieutenant Commander, effective immediately." Mike: They can just do that? Crow: Apparently. Tom: Well, at least Starfleet doesn't waste its time on bureaucracy! > "Thank you sir." Crow: [Marrissa, sotto voce] Lieutenant Commander? That's ALL? > "You're welcome, Miranda out." > Crow: [Marrissa] No, no. I'm *Marrissa.* You're T'Gwen, and you're *in* the Miranda. >101374 Mike: So this was written by Chris Carter's little brother? Crow: That explains a lot. >Chapter One > > Marrissa rushed out of her room to find someone to tell her >good news to. Tom: Bible in one hand, a Watchtower in the other. > Out in the living room, Rear Admiral Jean-Luc >Picard Mike: You guys know any clean "Rear Admiral" jokes? Crow: Nah, it's not worth it. > was lifting his sleeping twenty month old daughter >Jacqueline off the couch. Crow: [Picard] Oof! Just how many pounds did she put on today? > Seeing the onrushing Marrissa, Tom: Gah! She's a flood! Mike: No, she's not. Calm down. > he put >his finger to his mouth and Mike: ...up the chimney he rose. > said, [Mike moves his finger up and down across his lips.] Mike: [Picard] Beeblebeeblebeeble. > "Shhhh." > "Sorry," Mike: [Picard] "No! Shhhh!" > Marrissa whispered. "I just learnt that I got the >post on the Stargazer." Tom: She got some of that fancy book-learnin'. > "I know," her adoptive father replied. Crow: [Guy from 'Devil Fish'] I knooow! > As he gently laid >Jackie up against himself and began to carry the little girl to >her room. > "I had to approve your transfer, remember." Mike: [Picard] I've been waiting for that blasted transfer for months! And still it never came. It never came!! > "I never thought I'd get it." Marrissa gushed. Tom: See? She *is* a flood! Crow: Remember, folks. Most homeowners insurance doesn't cover Marrissa damage. > "I've got to >tell Clara." > Crow: [Marrissa] She's still just chief engineer, that 14-year- old loser! > Clarrissa Ann Sutter was Mike: Explaining it all... > looking over the latest in warp >drive design in her Popular Engineering Magazine. Crow: [snickering] I bet she also subscribes to Omni. > The Alpha >Shift Warp Drive Systems Supervisor's Mike: There's a Dilbert title, if I ever heard one. Tom: ASWDSS... Nope, no clever acronym. Crow: This from a group of people who don't like titles. > desk was full of such >publications, Tom: Warp Field Hi-Lights, Quantum Tiger Beat, Subspace Sassy . . . > mingled among her Science, Social Studies, and >Klingon Homework. Tom: Klingon Homework?!? Mike: You know... drink bloodwine, bump heads with someone. Crow: Eat some gagh. Mike: Whine on and on about the honor of your house. Crow: Whack yourself with a pain stick. Mike: Opera appreciation. Crow: Bat'leth twirling. Mike: That's only for extra credit. Crow: Define the word veQ... Tom: That would be this fanfic. Mike: Ow... that was harsh. > On the bed behind her was her Princess gown, Mike: Why am I suddenly thinking of Dee Dee? Tom: [Dee Dee] Hi Dexter! Crow: [Dexter] Aaah! Dee Dee, get out of my laboratory! Tom: [same] But looook! I'm wearing a Princess Pony Puff gown! Crow: [same] I don't care! >thrown there after the thirteen-year-old had gotten out of the >diplomatic reception early that morning. Mike: You know, I've heard things about those all-night diplomatic receptions... > Her silver taira still >adorned her long black hair. Tom: [Dee Dee] And look at the matching tiara! Crow: [Dexter] No! Now leave me alone, woman! Mike: So was she too lazy to remove it, or is it an ego thing? Either one looks pretty bad for the royal family. > The door chimed. "Enter." Tom: [Yiddish accent] Enter? Whadeva happened to come in? > Marrissa entered, her new Lieutenant Commander's pip now >fastened neatly to her collar. Crow: One could say that she had *great expectations* for that promotion. Mike: Yes, one could say that, but then I'd have to kill that one. > "Clara, I just got some good >news." All: [bored] Promoted again... > "Star Fleet just approved a warp system control capacitor >upgrade," Clara said. Tom: [sarcastically] Oh, yeah. That and universal peace top *my* wish list. Mike: Glad to see Star Fleet's getting a jump on Y3K compliance. > "How would I hear about that?" Marrissa questioned. Crow: [Marrissa] I'd only know that if I'd been reading your personal, private, locked, encrypted diary that you keep in the secret compartment under the plasma vent panel in Jeffries tube #97. > Then >she noticed the periodical Clara had been reading. "Popular >Engineering? Interesting reading." Crow: [Clara] "Warp coil number 5073 is sooo cute!" > "I bet you were reading that Captain's Adventure trash," >Clara responded. Mike: I'll bet she was reading the Star Fleet classics. Okay, bots, rapid fire! Crow: Scotty's philosophical yet practical 'Zen and the Art of Warp Core Maintenance.' Tom: Spock's haunting memoir of his troubled childhood, 'Nobody Knows the Tribbles I've Seen.' Mike: Uhura's searing indictment of Star Fleet's transparent aluminum ceiling, 'Open Your Own Damned Hailing Frequency.' Crow: Dr. McCoy's romantic best-seller, 'The Wormholes of Madison Quadrant.' Tom: Kirk's racy tell-all bio, 'Men are from Mars, Green-skinned Space Babes are from Orion.' Mike: The official Star Fleet tribute to those who died in the line of duty, 'The Red Shirt Diaries.' Crow: Worf's love story and pet-care manual 'The Targ Whisperer.' Tom: And of course, 'My Long Career in Star Fleet' by Ensign Throwaway. > "Lieutenant, don't trash my reading," Marrissa responded >smiling at the usual response. Tom: If you whack Clara upside the head for her insult, turn to page 35. If you only counter with a lame rejoinder, turn to page 24. > "At least my reading helps me do my job," Clara responded >looking up at Marrissa. Mike: See Jane. See Jane replicate a matter induction array. Replicate, Jane, replicate. > Her eyes fastened to the three pips on >her friend's collar. Mike: What are they, velcro eyes? > "Commander?" Mike: [Clara] Gee, Marrissa, TOOK you long enough... Tom: Clara's reaction? Dull surprise! > "I told you I had good news," Marrissa responded. "I got >the position on the Stargazer." Tom: [Marrissa] I'll be holding the main sensor array in place. > "Fighter Commander?" Clara stated. Tom: [Marrissa] Why? What has she done to me? Get it? Fight her, commander? Mike: We get it Tom. > "Yeah and Second Officer as well," Marrissa added. Crow: How quickly the ranks add up. > "I never >thought I'd get either position. I'm only just turned fifteen. Tom: o/~ You are fifteen, going on first officer... o/~ >I just applied because I wanted to get out from under my father's >command." Mike: [Marrissa] After all, we both know that one of these days, that little nitwit's going to get that entire ship killed. > "You're leaving the Enterprise," Clara remarked, All: Duh! > her eyes Crow: ...sparkling with a joy unknown for years. >dropping and her shoulders slumping. Mike: Now her eyes are rolling across the floor. Crow: When Marrissa's involved, sooner or later the body parts are gonna fly. Tom: [Clara] Sniff. Now I'll have to find a new person to kiss up to... > "Great, that means I've got >the Kid's Crew Captain's job. One more duty into my already >packed day." Tom: Well excuse the hell outta us! Crow: Yeah, no one asked you to be a junior over-achiever! Mike: [Clara] And I was SO BUSY translating my collection of "Saved By the Bell" episodes back into the original Klingon! > "You can give it to Shayna," Marrissa responded, Crow: She'll command anything! > gently >prodding her young friend. Mike: Marrissa's playful joshing was often accompanied by painful, but rarely fatal, cattle prod shocks. > "Marrissa, you remember the last time we put Shayna in >command of a scenario?" Clara exclaimed, Crow: [Clara] We spent the rest of the day cleaning pudding off the walls. > her hands thrusting out >in a gesture of frustration. Tom: The runner at first base mistook it for the steal sign, and was thrown out at second. > "You mean the Khitomer Scenario, in which she lasted almost >the full ten minutes necessary," Marrissa responded. Mike: You know, it's nice how Starfleet just lets anyone have a rank if they can not get killed for a few minutes in a space battle. Who needs training, anyway? Crow: Besides, ten minutes is an *awful* time. Tom: Oh, Crow, how would you know? Crow: I'll have you know I did 155 minutes in that scenario. Starfleet made me a *Commodore.* Tom: So, you got to hang out with Lionel Ritchie then? > "So she's >no James T. Kirk." Tom: How long did James T. Kirk last? Let's check the 'unofficial' logs - 'He's faster than a speeding truck,' Edith Keeler, 'Never got past first base,' Uhura, 'Nothing to cry over,' Elaan of Troyius, 'Won't make anyone green with envy,' Vina, 'Glad I got out when I did,' Janice Lester . . . > "You know she'll be my number one," Clara remarked. Mike: o/~ The tide is high, but I'm holdin' on/ I'm gonna be your number one... o/~ > "Do you >really want her to have a chance to command this ship?" Tom: Apparently, they teach vicious gossip at Starfleet academy. > "She's not that bad," Marrissa dead panned. Mike: Oh, my God! She killed the pan! Crow: You bastard! > "You need your memory refreshed," Clara said. Tom: [Marrissa] Well, you need your breath refreshed. Phew! > "Remember >when we let her take command during a simulation of the Battle of >Tarkcommon III? She had the ship turn and run." Tom: Not the crew, mind you. Just the ship. Crow: Hey...isn't that the scenario where you're supposed to smite thine enemies with the Holy Hand Grenade? Mike: No, Crow. That's the one where you fire past the bugger ships and blow up the alien planet. Crow: My bad. > "She was out numbered three to one," Marrissa said. "It was >good tactical sense." Tom: She's been taking lessons from Glinn Gusat. > "And what do you do in that situation?" Clara inquired. Crow: [Marrissa] Same plan I always use. Senseless violence. I stick with the classics. > "I plot a firing course past the enemies and into the star's >corona," Marrissa said. Mike: I'd put a lemon wedge in the Corona, kick back and wait it out. Crow: Yeah, we'd know what you'd do, Mike. > "Then I exit it tractoring a portion >behind me. That usually takes out one or two making the odds >much better." Crow: Ok, let's pretend for a moment that made any sense. Tom: Let's not. My globe hurts as it is. > "You tip the odds," Clara said. Tom: Be sure to tip your odds generously. > "I do that. Jay does that. >Shayna runs home to mommy." Crow: Which makes sense because she's TWELVE! Mike: Yeah! Down with cowardly twelve year olds! > "Her ship survives every time," Marrissa said. "The same >can not be said for us." > Crow: And the chapter just...dies, taking with it that faint glimpse of common sense. Tom: I wonder if we'll ever see Shayna again. Will we EVER know what her time in the Tarkcommon III Scenario was? So many pressing questions unanswered! >-- >Stephen Ratliff Radford University >sratliff@runet.edu Roanoke, VA 24018 >rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target. Marrissa Stories Author Tom: [Benedick] And I stood there like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me! >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/FAQs/ FAQ Maintainer for ASC. Crow: Do they have *my* most frequently asked question? Mike: Which is... Crow: Why? Why?! In God's name, WHY?! >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ascindex/ Index Maintainer too. >also at: http://archive.nu/ ASCA Moderator > >Have you voted in the Alt.StarTrek.Creative.All-Ages Tribble >Awards? > >Do so now at: http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/awards/ > Mike: Sadly, more people voted in the Tribble awards than the last presidential election. >101374 Mike: The serial number for the left door panel of a '63 Dodge Dart? >Chapter Two > > Marrissa materialized in the Stargazer's transporter room. Tom: [Stargazer] Who are you? I was expecting the Silverhawks. >It appeared to be not quite complete. Tom: [Marrissa] Shouldn't there be a hull around this thinnnnnnng... > None of the walls had >panels covering their circuitry. Tom: [Kevin Meaney] For goodness sake! Put some decent panels on! What would your mother say? Crow: Converting matter to energy and back again is easy. Drywalling is hard. > Marrissa quickly spotted the >navy panels stacked over in one corner. Tom: Old Navy cotton panels! Mike: [Carrie Donovan] "I'm mad for the style of them!" > Behind the console was a >white haired man wearing an Engineer's work suit with >Rear-Admiral's pips. Crow: So why's he wearing seeds on his clothing? > There was only one person that could be, Crow: Actually, there are several people that could be... >"Admiral Scott?" Marrissa inquired. "Permission to come aboard?" Crow: Permission to come apart? Mike: Granted. [Crow begins weeping bitterly.] > "Granted, lassie," Scotty replied. Crow: [still sobbing] Gah! Not him! Tom: Look! There's Sisko, Janeway and M'Riss too! Mike: What the-- Tom: Juuuust testing to see how many different Treks we can cross over...nothing to see here, carry on... > "Or should I be calling >yea Princess?" Mike: [Marrissa] That's the genocidal, megalomaniacal teenager formerly known as Princess! Tom: She might as well get herself a goofy ascii art symbol and be done with it. [Crow continues his lamentations.] > "Just Marrissa will be fine," Marrissa responded. Crow: [sniffling, but calming down] There's very little that's just about you, Marrissa. Mike: You recovered quickly. Crow: I'm a fast emotional healer. > "Welcome aboard your new ship, Marrissa," Scotty said. Mike: [Scotty] I mean 'Just Marrissa.' >"Computer Recognize Scott, Admiral Montgomery, Tom: [computer] Sorry, I don't recognize you. Are you known for your work in the theater? > and transfer >command to Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Amber Picard, per Star >Fleet orders." Mike: [Scotty] Make sure ya use all three of her names. That's M-A-R-R... > "Transfer complete, Crow: [computer] Our embezzled funds are now in a Swiss bank account. > USS Stargazer is now under the command >of Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard." Mike: Thanks Majel, you can go back to your trailer, we'll call you when we need you. Tom: Well, now she's a Captain, I guess. That didn't take long. Crow: Ratliff must be getting lazy. > "I though as an Admiral, you would want to be in command," >Marrissa stated. Crow: Wait. So she's an Admiral now? Mike: No, he is. No, wait... > "Marrissa, my lass, I never wanted command," Scotty said. Tom: Sheesh, *everyone* says that in these stories! Has no one any personal ambition? Mike: [Scotty] I wanted to be a lumberjack... >"I just took the promotions so I could do my job better and with >less interference from the desk jockeys at Star Fleet Command." Tom: Or so he claims. He really took the job so that he could get into the Friday afternoon cocktail parties. They serve donuts there. Mike: Say, maybe I could be an Admiral... > "Since our Chief Engineer has yet to be assigned, I assume >you are filling that position?" Marrissa asked. > "Aye." Crow: And spilling over to several others as well. Tom: Yes, admirals LOVE to be demoted to Engineers at the drop of a hat...giving teenage girls command of the lives of their crew. > > Marrissa entered the suite of rooms dedicated for the use of >the Second Officer. All: o/~ This is dedicated to the one we hate... o/~ > They were located next to the Ship's bar >which was named Seven Slightly Starboard for it's location. Crow: It was originally known as Next To The Loo, but didn't attract as many customers as they expected... > The >first room she entered was an office. In contained a desk, a >couple chairs and a sofa under the window. Crow: That is an office! > The desk was >perpendicular to outside wall. Tom: Oddly enough, I can't think of anything to say about that, can you? Crow: Nope. Mike: Uh-uh. > She hung the painting Data had >given her behind the desk. Crow: He just said the desk was perpendicular to the wall! Mike: He's trying to lose us! Tom: Don't let him get away! > Across the room was the door to the >rest of her quarters, next to the replicator. She walked though >it to discover a well apportioned room Mike: I claim this room for Spain! > with a table and three >chairs, another sofa and a double bed. Crow: Wow. Heaven. Tom: Maybe the rest of the fan-fic is just describing rooms. > The far wall sported >another opening which lead to a bathroom with a real tub, perfect >for Marrissa's bubble baths. All: [in unison] Ewwww! Tom: It's a Ratliff trademark, always taking us somewhere we don't want to go. Usually involving Marrissa skinny-dipping. Crow: Or her PMS. Or her virginity. Or her pink panties. Or her... Mike: [wraps his hands around Crow's beak] Let's just write that off as a juvenile fixation. And a really creepy one. This is the work of a more mature Ratliff. Crow: [mumbling through Mike's hands] And he's aging about as well as a bottle of Thunderbird. > As Marrissa exited the bathroom her door chimed. Walking >back to her office, Marrissa said, "Come." A young woman entered >tentatively. Mike: She's evidently been briefed about Her Highness. > She was carrying the rest of Marrissa's belongings. Mike: With a forklift. > "The Quartermaster Tom: Quartermaster II: Through the Portal of Time! Mike: I'd like to be a quartermaster, that sounds cool. Crow: Fear me, for I control all quarters everywhere! I am QUARTERMASTER! > said you wanted this," she said, >indicating the stuff she was carrying. Crow: I guess she *would* want her stuff. Mike: Stuff? Just 'stuff'? Tom: What vivid visual imagery! I can just SEE the Star Fleet Barbie complete with pink shuttlecraft, the 'Miss Junior Photon Torpedo of 2367' trophy, the big tube of assorted Bonnie Bell lip smackers, the chia pet, the Leonardo DiCaprio poster, the well-thumbed copy of 'Releasing the Hell-Beast Within,' the 'Li'l Wonder' bra . . . Mike & Crow:Ewwwwww! Tom: Sorry guys. Now *I'm* doing it. > "Just put it on my desk, Crewman ?" Mike: It's the Riddler! Crow: Riddle me this, Marrissa! > Marrissa said indicating >that she wanted to know the older woman's name. Mike: That's right... rub it in. > "Peterson, Yeoman Diane Peterson," the crewman replied. >"The Quartermaster has assigned me to be your yeoman." Crow: Yes! I control Yeoman Diane Peterson! Mike: Here we go... Tom: What sin could a yeoman commit in a single lifetime... > "Well then, Yeoman, get ready for a lot of work," Marrissa >responded. "I probably hold the most jobs of anyone on the ship." Tom: [Marrissa] I'm the cook, the cleaning lady, the captain of COURSE... I train the horses, and I fix the typewriters when they break... > "I'll do my best sir," the Yeoman replied. Mike: Or Marrissa could just quit a couple of those jobs. > "I have no doubt that you will," Marrissa said. Tom: [Marrissa] I'll make sure of that. Bwahahaha! > "The >question is, can we have fun doing it?" Mike: [Yeoman] Are you coming on to me? > "Is that an order, sir?" the Yeoman said. Tom: Who is this, Yeoman Eeyore? Crow: [Marrissa] Hell yes! I want you to sing while you clean out my toilets! Sing, I say! SING! Mike: [Militant] Fun Sir Yes Sir! > "No, just a suggestion," Marissa said. "But I find it's one >that makes the job easier." Crow: [Marrissa] Second suggestion: strawberry juice. Third suggestion: I find it helps expediency to demote people whenever you see them... Oh, and it helps to be perfect....Are you taking notes? Mike: Notes Sir! Yes Sir! >-- >Stephen Ratliff Radford University >sratliff@runet.edu Roanoke, VA 24018 >rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target. Marrissa Stories Author >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/FAQs/ FAQ Maintainer for ASC. >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ascindex/ Index Maintainer too. >also at: http://archive.nu/ ASCA Moderator > >"Starfleet officers do not go around *murdering* other officers." >"Not usually, anyway." -- Bashir and Odo, ST:DS9 "Field of Fire" Crow: [Odo] In Marrissa's case, though, we should definitely make an exception. Tom: Let's take a breather. [The trio stand and exit.] [6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .] [The Bridge] [Tom and Crow, dressed in Starfleet-esque uniforms and holding clipboards, are standing next to a young, rusty-haired male clutching a teddy bear.] Tom: Okay; now we want you to use the sensors. [The boy pokes at some buttons on the panel. Crow nods approvingly, then looks at his clipboard.] Crow: Next, realign the ventrical warp manifold. [The boy looks confused for a moment, then taps a button on the console.] Tom: Very good! Now, fire the phasers. [Mike enters in the background, stares at the trio, then walks over to them.] Mike: Hi guys. Crow: Oh, hi Mike! You remember Timmy Bobby Rusty, don't you? Timmy Bobby Rusty: Hi Mr. Nelsom! Mike: Yeah, yeah. Cute kid Dr. F. brought into shore up our Neilsen ratings. But what's he *doing* here? Tom: Crow and I were thinking. Marrissa seems to have so much fun with her Kids' Crew that we thought we'd form our own. Mike: Uh-huh. Crow: And he's the only kid we know of. Well, aside from the Space Children. But they'd probably blow up the ship or something. Besides, if we had a Kids' Crew like the Enterprise, we could make them do all the work. They could defeat Cardassians and Romulans, get their shuttlecraft shot down on strange planets, defuse tense diplomatic standoffs and stuff. Mike: Well, I don't really remember the last time we had a problem with Cardassians or Romulans... Tom: That doesn't matter, Mikey. When we have a Kid's Crew, they'll prove their usefulness in just a heart beat. You'll see! Mike: Oh. Well, go right ahead then. Crow: Wow. You're being really mellow about this, Mike. Tom: Usually after you hear one of our ideas, you rant and rave. Mike: Like saying, "Are you insane? Besides the fact that the Kid's Crew doesn't work outside the Ratliffverse and the minor little detail that we've made fun of the Kids' Crew concept for the last five years, and now, *Now*, you want to make your own? HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MINDS?!!" Crow: Yeah, like that. Mike: Nope. Not going to do that. After all, if you can't learn from history... well, you know the saying. I'm just going to head off to the theater early for this one. [mumbling] That way I won't be caught in the explosion. [normal] Have fun being bossed around by the kid, guys. [Mike exits.] Tom: Thanks Mike. [He turns to Timmy Bobby Rusty.] Okay, now we... TBR: Mr. Tom? Tom: Yes, Cadet Timmy? TBR: Ensign Timmy. Is what Mr. Nelson said trew? Tom: [chuckling] No, Timmy. We haven't lost our minds. Crow: You see, we've come to see that having children run the ship is the most efficient way to command. Tom: While you're busy flying the ship and fighting the Cardassians, we can relax and enjoy ourselves. Crow: Soon Tom and I will be kicking back, drinking some brewskis and watching wrestling. [Gypsy enters.] Gypsy: [Hysterically] Tom? Crow? You're training someone to take my place? I'm being downsized, aren't I? I won't take this lying down, do you hear me?! I'll file a grievance with the union! You'll rue the day you crossed paths with me, you scalawags! [Gypsy storms off. Tom and Crow look anxiously at each other.] Crow: I'll go and calm her down. Gypsy! [Crow exits.] TBR: Mr. Tom? Tom: Yes, Ensign Timmy? TBR: Commander Timmy. I meant was it trew that I get to boss you around? Tom: Um... TBR: 'Cause if it is, then things will be changing around here... Tom: Really? Heh, heh. Mike? TBR: First of all, you will address me by my full name, Timmy Bobby Rusty. Better yet, you will address me as *sir.* Is that clear? Tom: Mike? TBR: Secondly, I don't know who you are. Why don't we go around the room and introduce ourselves? Tom: Oh, Michael...? [The lights dim.] Gypsy: [OS] How do you like working in the dark, you ungrateful pigs?! Crow: [OS] Gypsy, calm down! TBR: And another thing. From now on, I want chocolate for breakfast, and lunch. For dinner, I want chocolate and marshmallows. And get me some rutabaga juice, now! Tom: MIKE! TBR: And I want "I was commanded by Admiral Timmy Bobby Rusty" carved into that far wall! Tom: MIIIKKKKEEEE!!!!! TBR: And why aren't there any chicks around here for me to fall in love with? I should be getting married. I'm almost 11! Tom: Crow! Get in here! Crow: [O.S.] But Gypsy... Tom: FORGET HER FOR A SEC AND GET IN HERE! [Crow dashes in.] TBR: [to Crow] Why are you late, maggot? And who are you? I'm Lord Admiral Timmy... Tom: Get him! [The bots tackle Timmy Bobby Rusty and push him off screen. We hear a scuffle, cries of "You can't do this to me! I'm a king! I'm the god! I'M THE GOD!" then a door slamming shut and a sound like a rocket taking off. Crow and Tom, looking a little dented, dash back onstage.] Tom: Quick, open the hexfield viewscreen! [The viewscreen opens to show a small escape pod being jettisoned toward Earth] Crow: Whew. I'm glad that's over with. Gypsy: [O.S.] Tom! I'm taking a chainsaw to your room! [The Ratliff sign begins to flash.] Tom: My room! Crow: Forget that! We've got Ratliff sign! Bots: AHHHH!!!! Ratliff Sign!!! [Crow hurriedly rushes over to hit the Ratliff sign. The door sequence begins.] [6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ] [Mike is already seated. The bots enter.] Mike: So, how'd it go? Tom: I think I know what caused the cast of Different Strokes to go bad. Crow: They must have had a Hollywood Kids' Crew. Mike: Oh. You know, I just heard the strangest sound. Kind of like an escape pod. Silly, huh? Cuz if there was an escape pod, I could have returned to earth ages ago. I mean, you guys would have told me in about two seconds if there was an escape pod on board, right? Bots: [muttering] Oh yeah, sure. Right. Of course. >From sratliff@runet.edu Thu Feb 25 17:31:50 1999 >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative,alt.startrek.creative.all-ages >Subject: NEW TNG Athena Prospects 04/11 (Marrissa Stories) >From: sratliff@runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff) Mike: o/~ Stephen. Stephen Ratliff. His stories leave us in tears! o/~ >Date: 26 Feb 1999 00:31:50 GMT Tom: Whoa, did Ratliff travel through time or something? Mike: No, the editor was just too lazy to get the first few parts individually. [Tom tsks.] > > >Title: Athena Prospects Mike: Somehow, I'm having problems imagining a goddess as a California Forty-Niner. >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories #10 >Rating: [G] >Codes: n/a Tom: Nauseating and abominable? >Parts: NEW 4/11 > Tom: [announcer] New...and improved! Mike: I dunno about that. >Summary: >Shortly After Marrissa leaves the Enterprise-E to serve as Second >Officer on the Stargazer, a group of extremists steal a starship >and attempt to change the past. Tom: Another one of the seven original sci-fi plots in the world. > With the help of the Clintons, Crow: The George Clintons... >Marrissa, Wesley, and the crew of the Stargazer must stop them >from stopping the first manned mission to Mars. > >101374 Mike: Stardate, random. >Chapter Three > > Lyam Sympton was ready to move. Tom: So he went to a Tai-bo class. > A group of his colleagues >had joined him in his private yacht, the Star Fleet's Bane. Tom: If you give your ship a nice, innocuous name, turn to page 25. If you name your ship after your life-long goal, thus betraying your membership in a pseudo-terrorist organization, turn to page 22. > They >were just entering the Zed-15 Depot Yard. Mike: I didn't know Ratliff was British. > Their objective was >the decommissioned USS Eagle NCC-956. Tom: o/~ Welcome to the Starship California! o/~ > "Have they detected us?" Lyam asked his comrade and >Engineering Specialist, Boris Gutanhoff. Crow: C is for cookie... Tom: ...and that's Gutanhoff for me. Mike: Well, I'll commend you for staying away from the 'Moose and Squirrel' riff, but ouch! > "I don't think so," Boris replied. Tom: Then we'll go after Moose and Squirrel! Mike: Doh! You just *had* to dash my hopes, didn't you? Crow: He's Boris "GUTanhoff;" he'd probably track them down then offer them money. > "Ready Boarding parties, Frank," Lyam ordered. Mike: [TV's Frank] Live to serve, oh vile one! Crow: Frank's in this? Tom: No, just some guy named Frank. But the way he's described, I feel like he's right here with us. > "Boris, I >want that ship operational ASAP." Mike: Or at least some time around then. > "I'll do my best," Boris responded. "Hopefully they won't >have stripped it too much." > Crow: Naw... just everything but the hull. > Moment's latter two dozen hired guns beamed on board the >Eagle. Tom: Don't you think you're anthropomorphizing too much, Ratliff? > They fanned out and checked out the empty ship. Signaling >all clear, the leader requested that the Engineer be beamed >aboard. Crow: [Minnewegian accent] Oh, aren't they such polite terrorists? Mike: [ditto] Oh, yah. > Boris got right to work on the shuttlebay doors. Tom: [with New England accent] We're gonna sand these doors down to the original duranium, lay down a couple coats of primer, then give them a verdigris finish with a clear satin sealer, today on 'This Old Starship.' >Despite the fact that the Eagle had been out of service for more >than 50 years, Mike: Starfleet just can't throw anything away, can they? Crow: Yeah, they're real packrats. > the bay doors still opened allowing the Star >Fleet's Bane to squeeze into the bay. Crow: Gah! A "Batman and Robin" crossover! Mike: The Star Fleet "Bane;" there's a mental picture I didn't need. Tom: Forget HIM! Where's the Star Fleet's Poison Ivy? Crow: Bring 'er on! Sure she's deadly, but what captain could resist? > Lyam Sympton exited the yacht. "Welcome aboard, Captain," >Boris said. "How is our transportation Boris?" Lyam asked. Crow: I thought Boris was the engineer. Mike: He must have split personalities. > "No weapons but she'll go fast enough to break the speed >limit and get us where or shall I say when we're going," Boris >replied. Tom: [Sarcasm] They're going to violate traffic laws, they're soo evil! Mike: Sure, it's fun to break the speed limit in outer space, but eventually the galactic enforcers catch up with you... > "Then lets get under way before the supply yard notices >us," Lyam ordered. "I'll be on the Bridge." Mike: Nice to see that the supply yard's security is at the same level as a U-Store-It of today. Crow: I'm just wondering why the ship yard kept fuel in the ship's tank for 50 years. > >Personal Log Crow: They usually are. >USS Stargazer NCC-2893 >STARDATE 51671.35 Tom: Gee, Marrissa, why not figure it out to the nearest second? >Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard, acting Captain. > Crow: Oh! So she's T'Gwen Washington's understudy! > We are currently proceeding to Deep Space Nine Mike: Oh sure, drag them into it now. Crow: As if getting canceled wasn't bad enough. > to pick up Mike: [Marrissa] ...some hot dates. >the Captain and the Cardassian members of our crew. Crow: The *what*?!? Tom: Don't worry about it. They don't figure into the plot, and you will NEVER see them AGAIN. Mike: And you know this how...? Tom: I read the Cliff Notes. > I am >somewhat uneasy Crow: Chili peppers burn her gut. > about having Cardassians serving on the >Stargazer. Mike: She... couldneverforgivethem... for. The. Death of her son... > It hasn't been long since they were enemies. Mike: Did they ever stop being enemies? Tom: For about five minutes, so they could rest up before attacking again. Mike: Oh yeah. > In fact >I've even fought them. Crow: [Marrissa] Hand to hand, their entrails dripping down my bloodened arm and staining my uniform redder and redder with their life-juices... Tom: Thanks, Crow. > I have to admit, though, that the >situation in the Demilitarized zone calls for just such a crew. Mike: If, for this delicate diplomatic situation, you choose to send in an experienced crew that has worked well together for years, turn to page 55. If you choose instead to add in some Cardassians, thus creating a crew whose members do not trust each other and will be wiping each other out before the week ends, turn to page 57. >Perhaps together, we'll be able to end the fighting between those >people who don't believe the war is over. Crow: [Marrissa] Come on! Stop fighting! Tom: You can't make me, you can't make me! > > Late that evening, Lavelle was dealing the latest round of >poker in Seven Slightly Starboard. Crow: ...by the seashore. > "Five of Diamonds for the >Security Chief, Seven of Diamonds for his wife, Jack of Clubs for >the Admiral, King of Hearts for the Princess, and a Eight of >Hearts for me." Crow: You know, there isn't much that's inherently riffable about a poker game. Mike: Well, we'd better try. This looks like a long, hard one. Tom: Let's just hope that Kelsey Grammar pops out of the space rift and crashes into their ship soon. > "Another Five for Ross, a heart this time; a Nine of >Diamonds for his boss, A King of Diamonds for Admiral Scott, a >Queen of Hearts for the Princess that steals them, Crow: Usually ripping them out with her bare hands and holding them up, still beating, dripping with --- Mike: Uh, Crow? Crow: Sorry. Clive Barker was writing my lines on that one. > and a eight of >Clubs for the dealer. Ante up." Mike: No, no! You're supposed to ante up *before* you deal! Start over. > "Sam, if you keep up those jokes up, I'm going to club you," >Katherine Lochard said. Tom: Uh-oh. Ratliff's getting metatextual. Crow: Jokes? Where jokes; I don't see any jokes. Mike: "Club" you, get it? That was a joke! Crow: No! No jokes, where? > "Ah, but you forget, I out rank you," Lavelle replied. Tom: [Kathy] No kidding! You ever going to bathe? > "A >Four of Diamonds for Ross. a 10 of Diamonds for a possible >straight for Kathy. Crow: Well, I'd hope so, if she's married to Ross. > A Two of Hearts for Scotty. Tom: See, THAT was a joke! Mike: No, that was a CARD. > An Ace of >Hearts for the Captain's daughter, and a Eight of Clubs for the >dealer." Tom: Mike, help me out here. I don't play much poker. Do two eights of clubs count as a pair? Mike: Yes, if you're playing 5-card Ratliff. Crow: Oh, what I wouldn't give for a good, old-fashioned shoot-out right now... > "If she doesn't I will," Marrissa said. "And I outrank you." Crow: [Marrissa] Remember, rank is everything, and I outrank EVERYONE! > "Idol threats," Lavelle dismissed. Mike: [Marrissa] I'm gonna rock your cradle of love! [sneers] Tom: Ratliff's just *giving* us jokes now. > "A Four of Clubs for >Security, a Six of Diamonds for his Wife, a Two of Diamonds for >the Miracle Worker, Tom: When did Annie Sullivan show up? > a Ten of Hearts for the Royal Officer, Crow: [tough] Where's your THRONE, your highness?? Do you want your pretty CROWN? DO YOU? > and a >Four of Clubs for me." Crow: So. Scotty has at least a pair, Ross has at least two pair, Lavelle has at least three of a kind, though he's cheating, Kathy has a possible straight flush, and Marrissa has a possible *royal* straight flush? And not a spade among 'em? Mike: Yep, this deck is *definitely* stacked. > "I fold," Ross said. All: Wimp. > "I'm in," Kathy said, tossing in 10. > "I fold," Scotty said. Crow: Do you also spindle and mutilate? Mike: What's the point? You all KNOW Marrissa's going to win! > "I'll see your 10, and raise you 5," Marrissa said. > "I'll see your 15, and raise you 10," Lavelle called. Tom: What, is he playing from a different room? Mike: No, he just went to the bar for another drink. Tom: Well, that explains his dealing. > "Too rich for me, I fold," Kathy said. Mike: Well, him and Marrissa left. Who do you think will win? Crow: You have to ask? Tom: No one will be seated during the exciting 'bidding' scene. > "I'll see your 10, and raise you 20," Marrissa said. Tom: The tension! The suspense! WILL Marrissa beat everyone soundly like usual? > "I fold," Lavelle said. All: Wimp! Tom: See? > "Lavelle you need more confidence in your hand," Marrissa >stated, revealing her hole card, the Seven of Hearts. Crow: But she still has a flush! He'd've lost anyway! Mike: Something tells me Ratliff shouldn't plan any trips to Atlantic City. > "I'll sit >out the next couple. I don't want to win all of your money >before we even get the full crew on board, Lavelle." Tom: Yeah, give someone else a chance to fleece him. > Marrissa >got up and went over to Mary, who was dusting the piano next to >Marrissa's wall. Crow: Great, first it's our wall, now it's *Marrissa's* wall! Tom: So it begins... > "Mary, what is an old fashion upright piano >doing in a Starship bar." Tom: I can just see the T-Shirts. 'Don't tell my mom I'm an ensign. She thinks I'm a piano player in Seven Slightly Starboard'. > "Piano's have always been in bars since the ancient west on >Earth," Mary responded. Mike: Always. Well, except for the few hundred years between then and now. Tom: Billions and billions and billions of worlds out there, and what's our *one* point of cultural reference? Earth, circa 1967 to whenever the current script was written. > "I hear you play." Mike: [Marrissa] How could you? I'm standing ten feet away from the thing... > "Not much, and I quit lessons when I was ten," Marrissa >said. > "Sometime I'll have to pick it up again." Tom: So now she's got superhuman strength in addition to everything else? Ter-*riffic.* > "No time like the present," Mary said. Mike: Hey Tom! You were right! She's going to dead lift it! Crow: [Mary] Do you know how to play anything by Nirvana? > "All right, but I'm warning you I haven't practiced in a >good two years, three years - maybe more," Marrissa warned. Tom: Wow! From a card game to a discussion about piano lessons, the pace just doesn't let up! Mike: Yeah... Crow: I hear there's a riveting golf scene later on... > Then >she began playing the Blue Danube Waltz. Crow: As conducted by Elmer Fudd. > A little hesitant and >occasionally she made a mistake Crow: Blasphemy!! Again with the lack of perfection! Mike: Ratliff's just "humanizing" the character. Tom: Actually, he's "demi-godding" her. > but on the whole it sounded >pretty good. Mike: [relieved] Thank goodness. I was on the edge of my seat. > "Hey, Marrissa, this is a bar, not a concert hall," Ross >shouted. Tom: Well, it's not a casino either, so why are you playing poker there? > "OK, you asked for it," Marrissa said. "Mary, get me a >strawberry juice." Mike: Well, it's nice to get the obligatory strawberry reference out of the way early. > Ross looked over at her thinking 'not again,' Tom: It's widely believed that if we knew why Ross thought that, we'd know a lot more about the nature of the universe. >but Marrissa wasn't going to do that. She began playing the >Entertainer. Tom: If only Newman and Redford would walk in... [A wistful sigh drifts through the theater.] Crow: Is there a draft in here? > "Marrissa, that's still not right," Ross said back. Crow: This *scene* is not right. Tom: [Mary] How about this one... "Come, as you are, as you were..." > "Hey, you give me the music and a month to study it and >maybe I'll play it," Marrissa responded. Crow: Oh, so now Ms. Perfect needs a month, eh? > As Marrissa continued to play, a young man phased into view >behind her. Tom: Uh, oh... Mike: Please be some kind of intergalactic assassin. > "Are you sure you haven't been practicing?" he >whispered in her ear. Mike: Brace yourselves... > Marrissa whirled around on the piano stool to face him. Crow: [Marrissa] Whee! >"Wesley Eugene Crusher, what are you doing here?" All: Aauugghh! Tom: Drat! I was hoping *he'd* be one of the changes! > "Well, little sister, I though I'd drop by to see you," >Wesley replied. > "Wes, you never 'drop by'," Marrissa retorted. Crow: [Marrissa] You just 'stumble in,' smelling like a brewery. > "Who said I couldn't change?" Wes replied, plastering a >smile on his face. Crow: So...with just spackle, or with actual gypsum PLASTER? Mike: That stuff gets hot when it solidifies! Wesley's going to burn off his whole face! Bots: [sotto voce] Yay! > "This from the guy who hasn't seen his little sister since >the week after she was born," Marrissa said, staring. Crow: Uh, oh...he's a dead-beat brother. Tom: Let's sic Sheriff Joe Arpaio on him! > She thought >it was unfair that she had been stuck with all the older sibling >duties for the now almost two year-old girl. Tom: The "older sibling duties"? Mike: Oh, I'm well familiar...there's the teasing,the convincing you that kindergarden is a child-labor camp, the contstant oppression...taking your paper route money to buy cigarrettes...stealing your girlfriends...showing embarrassing pictures of you when you have friends over... Crow: Do you need a hug, Mike? [Mike lays his head on Crow's shoulder for a minute.] > Wesley relented. "Actually I'm working for Star Fleet >Temporal Investigations Prevention Division Crow: Or "Sftipd," for short; feel free to call it that. Tom: They're trying to prevent investigations? Wouldn't that put them out of work? > and you happen to be >heading to my next job." Marrissa continued to stare. Crow: She's scanning him! Mike: Huh. I don't know who to root for. > "And I'll >visit Mom and Jackie when we get back." Tom: So you can travel time and space at will, but you can't blip off to see you family for a few minutes? Besides, he already knows what's going to happen, so why doesn't he phase to the other ship and stop them? Hmmm? Mike: He's probably on a coffee break, Tom. Crow: Yep. Wesley's in "Annoying, Near-Omnipotent Entities Union, Local #47." > "Welcome aboard Wes," Marrissa said. Tom: No, *he's* Wes. You're aboard the Stargazer. > "Come let me introduce >you to the crew, but I'd advise you not to join the poker game. >Your bluff is worse than Lavelle's. Tom: He can bend the space-time continuum to his will, but can't keep the smirk off his face when he fills an inside straight. Mike: It's comforting to know that even in Ratliff's weird-ass world, Wesley is still a geek. > I see you got a promotion to >Lieutenant junior grade. Took you long enough." Crow: Isn't it just heartwarming to watch Marrissa judge people by how fast they get promoted? > "Sorry, not every officer can move though the ranks as fast >as you," Wesley said. Crow: Only those who start when they're younger than 12. > "Are you sure Dad didn't help you?" Tom: [Marrissa] Of course he did, you idiot. He conveniently died and then I got adopted by a Captain and became a princess and then . . . . uh, I mean, no one helped me. No one's warping the universe to my whims! > "The only help Dad gives me is with my swordsmanship, Mike: This isn't turning into a Highlander crossover, is it? Crow: [Marrissa] I'm deadly with all forms of weapon, now! I can sever a man's head before he has time to blink! > and >you know it, or have you been spending too much time out of time >again?" Marrissa responded. Crow: Marrissa is the cover of this month's "Strange Family Life" magazine. > "You know me, I've got all the time in the universe," Wesley >replied. Tom: [Wesley] It's all MINE! I'm the god, I'M THE GOD! > "Were as you have that really tight Tom: Bodice? Mike: Belt? Crow: As...cot? Tom: Nice save. > schedule. Tell me, >did you schedule time to sleep this week?" Crow: [Marrissa] I NEED NO SLEEP, Mortal!! > "Knock it off, you two, some of us are trying to play poker >over here," Ross Lochard said. > Tom: Yeah, I'd actually like to read more of the card game part before I'd read this conversation. Crow: No! Don't say that, it might come true! Mike: Oh, to run up against these guys in Vegas... > Lyam Sympton Tom: So he's a sign of a tick-borne illness at work in an organism? Crow: Huh? > was on the old constitution class starship's >bridge. Mike: I guess even old starships need dental work. > He wouldn't have admitted to his comrades, Tom: In fact, he refused to be seen in public with them. > but Crow: Under his uniform he was wearing a lace-trimmed lavender satin camisole and tap pant from the 'J. Edgar Hoover's secret' collection. > when he >was little he use to dream of Tom: ...moonbeams and puppy dogs and winged elves. Then those blasted Klingons killed all of them. Damn you, Klingons!!! [Crow and Mike look at Tom, then edge away from him.] > commanding such a ship. An old >ship, not one of those modern luxury yachts like the Galaxy >Class. Mike: Registration: Norway and Tunisia. > Of coarse that was part of the problem with Star Fleet. Tom: They wouldn't accept *him*. Mike: I think we've found the root of his problem with Starfleet. >They were luxury minded warmongers Crow: Can one be that? I mean, wouldn't war destroy a lot of luxuries? > who used their power to >interfere with every conflict from Earth to the Gamma Quadrant. Mike: Hey, who doesn't? Tom: Yeah, lighten up man. >He and his group believed that it would have been better if the >Earth hadn't been the primary influence in creating Star Fleet. Tom: After all, Fire would have made more sense. >If Earth hadn't had some planetary exploration under it's belt, Mike: Yeah, Mir is the lynch pin to a galactic civilization. Crow: I wouldn't make the Mir a lynch pin in an AMC Gremlin. >than his organization, Exploration Not Exploitation, Crow: Execrable, not Excellent. Tom: Excess, not Exactitude. > believed >that Vulcans would have been able to control Star Fleet. Mike: Great. You could have a whole fleet whose captains would react to any situation with one word. "Fascinating." > This >would, in there opinion, Mike: [dryly] There opinion. There wolf. There reactor core. Crow: That does it! I'm buying him that "Homonyms and You" book. > have reduced the exploitation that Star >Fleet Captains did. Tom: Strunk and White are spinning in their graves, guys. Crow: Heck, at this point, they're probably shambling into Roanoke, ready to give Ratliff a twirling wedgie that'd do Bob the Dinosaur proud! > "Lyam, all systems are ready," Boris said. Crow: Thanks Noel. Did I ever tell you you're my wonderwall? Mike: D'oh! I was hoping you wouldn't do that. > "John set a coarse for Proxima Centauri, Warp 7," Lyam >ordered. Tom: It's more of a STATEMENT than an order, really... Mike: [John] A coarse *what,* sir? Crow: [John] Setting course for Sid Meyer's Proxima Centauri sir... >-- >Stephen Ratliff Radford University >sratliff@runet.edu Roanoke, VA 24018 >rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target. Marrissa Stories Author >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/FAQs/ FAQ Maintainer for ASC. >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ascindex/ Index Maintainer too. >also at: http://archive.nu/ ASCA Moderator > >"Starfleet officers do not go around *murdering* other officers." Crow: Are enlisted men fair game? >"Not usually, anyway." -- Bashir and Odo, ST:DS9 "Field of Fire" >From sratliff@runet.edu Thu Mar 04 18:11:58 1999 >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Athena Prospects 05/11 (Marrissa Stories) Tom: Come back to the Five and Eleven, Marrissa Stories, Marrissa Stories. >From: sratliff@runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff) Mike: o/~Stephen, Stephen Ratliff. Marrissa's too young to drink beer o/~ >Date: 5 Mar 1999 01:11:58 GMT Mike: Yeah, this story is *marred,* all right. > > >Title: Athena Prospects >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories #10 >Rating: [G] >Codes: n/a Crow: Codes not applicable in Montana, Alaska, or Tennessee. >Parts: NEW 05/11 > >Summary: Mike: Actually, the temperature is quite pleasant here. >Shortly After Marrissa leaves the Enterprise-E to serve as Second >Officer on the Stargazer, a group of extremists steal a starship >and attempt to change the past. With the help of the Clintons, >Marrissa, Wesley, and the crew of the Stargazer Crow: ...make some *great* land deals in Arkansas. > must stop them >from stopping Tom: Or keep them from keeping. Crow: Or prevent them from preventing. > the first manned mission to Mars. > > >101374 Crow: I'll just bet that was a Friday. >Chapter Four > > Marrissa came out of the Port Turbolift in the rear of the >Stargazer's bridge. Tom: She decided to take the Gin Turbolift next time. > Before sitting down, she took a quick tour >of the bridge. Mike: [Miss Information] We're walking...we're walking...we're stopping before we run into the viewscreen... > The Engineering station on her left when she >entered was unmanned at the moment, Crow: It had just had a terrible breakup with its girlfriend. > and showed the ship to be in >good condition to Marrissa's quick look. Mike: [Marrissa] Hmmm, core breach, nothing that concerns me... > In the forward corner, >past some auxiliary stations was Operations. Crow: Okay...um...Water On the Knee--go! Tom: [buzzing sound effect] Crow: Get it? 'Cause...it's OPERATIONS... Mike: I get it. > Marrissa didn't >know the name of the Ensign manning it, Tom: But she was pretty sure it was Ensign Throwaway, in his usual post. > but he seemed competent >as she checked. Mike: He'd immediately genuflected when she approached him. Crow: He had just taken out the funny bone without setting off the buzzer, and was now proceeding to the wrenched ankle. Mike: Yes, we get it Crow. > In the center below the view screen was the >helm, referred to in current Star Fleet parlance as CONN, [Crow and Mike turn towards Tom.] Tom: Referred to in the past as 'that place you steer the ship from.' Mike: Huh. Tom: Something wrong? Crow: Well, it's just that you usually go with a different riff on that line. Tom: Oh, you mean...? Crow: Oh no. Tom: COOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!! >currently held by her Assistant Fighter Commander, who insisted >on being called Kathy. Crow: Even though his real name was Phil... > Marrissa didn't mind. Crow: After all, Marrissa insisted on being called "Ruler of All Worlds." And she liked the name Kathy. > It solved the >problem of two Lieutenant Lochards on the bridge. Crow: [Marrissa] I was going to have one of you killed, but if you'd rather do the Kathy thing, fine, I suppose. > Next was the >stairs to the Office Floor below, where the Captain's Ready Room, Crow: Captain's private video arcade, Tom: Captain's personal mini-mall, Mike: Captain's comic book collection... >Primary Conference Room, Officer's Lounge, and First Officer's >Office were located. Mike: Great. Now we've slipped into an excerpt from "Marrissa Picard's guide to the Stargazer." Crow: And now, the Office-holding Officious First Officer's Official Officiating Office. > Back towards the rear on the other side of >the bridge from the Engineering Station was Fighter Command. Tom: The author doesn't just establish place, he clings on for dear life! >Marrissa knew she'd be spending a lot of time at that station >once the Captain arrived. Tom: Oh, her ACTUAL position? Mike: Don't worry, no adults will ever show up to fill the captain's chair. > It seemed to be well arranged, but >since Star Fleet hadn't had a Fighter Carrier since before the >Stargazer was originally commissioned, Mike: ...or ever. Crow: I think Starfleet command may have watched Star Wars one too many times. > she was sure something >wouldn't be right once the ship got into regular service. Crow: Something ALWAYS breaks down...the Starfleet computers are on Windows 98. > In the >middle of the rear of the bridge, on the other side of the >Starboard Turbolift was Tactical and Security, Mike: Two words that generally don't go together in Star Trek. > with Lieutenant >Ross Lochard manning it. As Marrissa moved to take her seat in >the Captain's chair, she asked Ross, Crow: [Marrissa] Where do you want to be in two years? > "Ship's status?" Crow: [Ross] Well, Tactical and Security at the back of the bridge is functional, someone spilled a drink in the lounge, which is on the Office Floor. The... Mike: Ok! Ok! > "All systems normal," Ross replied. "No problems reported >in the last two shifts from any department" Mike: What happened two shifts ago? Tom: Romulans came aboard, killed the Stargazer bowling team. Mike: Oh, is that all? > "Very well," Marrissa said, looking to her right at the >First Officer's chair. She wondered what it would be like to see >a Cardassian in that seat. Mike: I would say just like seeing a regular person in that seat, only with more makeup. > "Captain, I'm detecting a craft exceeding warp 5," Lieutenat >Ross Lochard interupted. Crow: Is he manning a radar gun, or something? > " Definite pre-refined warp drive. >Current speed is warp 7 and accelerating." Mike: Yes, that would be exceeding Warp 5. Tom: [Marrissa] Ok, get someone to go outside in a pressure suit and put the blue light on top of the saucer. > "Kathy, intercept coarse, Tom: Ratliff always has to be different. Instead of verbing nouns, he nouns adjectives. > maximum warp," Marrissa ordered. Mike: [Kathy] "Ack!" Ma'am. Tom: Engage burlap drive! >Fleet vessels were required to stop speeding ships. Federation >congress had tacked the duty on Crow: ...the bulletin board outside their main office. > when the subspace rupture problem >had been found. Mike: This plot has a subspace rupture problem not even a quantum truss could help. > "Ross, additional data please." Crow: [Ross] I'll have it for you in a sec . . . let's see, positronic net, fully functional -- I hope Noonian Soong left the specs here somewhere . . . > "Sensors indicate, no this can't be right, Mike: That's what *we* said! Tom: Man, those sensors are smart! > Ops, confirm my >readings," Lieutenant Ross Lochard said. > "Readings confirmed, vessel is the constitution class Tom: [jock voice] Man, that class is *such* an easy A. Mike: [ditto] Only if you get Mr. Stodemeyer. >starship USS Eagle, NCC-956," the ensign at Ops replied. Mike: [Ops] Wait! Sensors indicate, no wait hold on, it doesn't make sense! Stargazer, did you get that, over. > "The constitution class was retired over 50 years ago," >Marrissa stated. Tom: No, they got back together. I saw them on VH1 the other night. > "Ross, where was the Eagle stored?" Crow: I imagine you can get a copy at the Virgin Megastore. > "The Zed-15 depot yard," Ross said. "Didn't they lose >several starships several years ago?" Mike: They lose one whenever it's needed for a plot contrivance. > "Well they've lost another one," Mike: They sure haven't stepped up their security, have they? > Marrissa said as Scotty >entered the bridge. Tom: [Marrissa] So, back you go, Scotty! > "Time to intercept, Kathy." Tom: [Kathy] I'll be taking off for lunch soon, you can meet then I guess. > "Ten minutes," Kathy responded. Crow: [Kathy] So we have time for a snack first, if you want. > "But they're going awful >close to that star." Crow: Well, so long as it's not Sean Penn, what's the problem? > "It might as well be 10 years," Scotty said. "They're >attempting time travel. Mike: [Golf announcer] They're attempting to travel through time; the wheels have been coming off. > Helm, you better change coarse to a >hyperbolic, Tom: Which is actually a *great* description of these stories. > matching theirs as close as possible, if you want to >catch them." Crow: Yeah, because if you're off by a centimeter you might end up years away from where they go. Mike: So, just travel right through time without consulting Starfleet regulations? Tom: Well, you gotta remember this guy served under KIRK. Captain James T. "Prime Directive? What Prime Directive?" Kirk. > Kathy looked at Marrissa. Mike: [Kathy] You've got to be *kidding!* You're going to listen to *him?* > "You heard the Admiral," Marrissa >said. "If I remember the descriptions of time travel, we better >strap in. Crow: Apparently Marrissa has seen every episode of "The Time Tunnel." > All hands, prepare for rough maneuvers. All: All right! Mike: I have to admit, these stories do occasionally contain nuggets of joy. > We have to >come out of this Tom: [Marrissa] ...with our sanity intact. Mike: I think that's *our* mission, Tom. > as close as possible to the time which the Eagle >does, Tom: Which could be any time at all... > so keep a close eye on them, Kathy." > "And hope the new inertial dampeners are better than they >were on the original Enterprise," Scotty said. > Mike: Didn't they need a complex set of calculations to get them through a time warp to the proper time? Tom: That was in the show; here the calculations are being replaced by a 'Ratliff Plot Simplifier'. Mike: What's that? Tom: That's when people do stuff without effort that takes a lot of careful planning in the show. Mike: Crow? You're being awfully quiet... Crow: Huh, huh. He said 'inertial.' Mike: Nevermind. > Ahead of them the USS Eagle shot around Proxima Centauri and Mike: ... just missed a seven-point buck. >disappeared. Crow: THE END All: Yay! > Then the Stargazer followed suit. The whole ship >shook. Tom: Did it get its Schick out of shape, too? > Down in Seven Slightly Starboard, the vases on the tables >slid off on to the floor, shattering. Mike: Well, I'd be a bit peeved about it, but I hardly think it's a shattering experience. Tom: Besides, Marrissa's PLANET can pay for it. > Throughout the ship things >fell from their places, Crow: Things Fall Apart. Tom: Somehow, I don't think this is what Achebe had in mind. > however in a tribute to the new ship's >engineering, Crow: With Art Carney, Francis Scott Key and-- Mike: Not that again, please. > no consoles exploded. Tom: Much to the disappointment of the audience. Crow: Too bad. That's a good way to weed out the extras. Mike: So, this new ship is at least as sturdy as an old Klingon Bird of Prey? > Moments later they left >warp, decelerating in another time. > Tom: Yeah, decelerate another time. No need to rush. > "Ships status, Engineering?" Marrissa said. Mike: Well, it's-- > "Tactical >determine the location of the Eagle. Tom: They're at-- > Ops, current date please. Crow: The date is-- >Lieutenant Lavelle, Lieutenant Crusher report to the bridge." All: Will you stop interrupting?! > "All systems are normal, but I'd like to run a level two >diagnostic to be sure," Scotty replied. > "That takes systems off line, I'm afraid we can't risk that >until we know Tom: [Marrissa] ...who Felicity left with for summer vacation. Then we can turn off the TV. > were we are and what we are going to have to do," >Marrissa said. "Run a level three instead." Mike: Scandisk, but don't defrag. > "Aye, sir," Scotty replied. Mike: [Scotty] OH, you are SO wise; why didn't I think of that? > "I've found the Eagle, Captain," Ross Lochard replied. Mike: Right where we left it--in the Sea of Tranquillity. Crow: [Ross] They're playing Central Park! > "She >is headed toward Earth. The Eagle has a lead time of about four >hours on us." Mike: Oh, wonderful precision flying there, Ross. Now they'll never get to the concert in time. > "Kathy, set a coarse to intercept," Marrissa ordered. Tom: You know, someday, Ratliff will spell that word right. Then, Armageddon shall be close at hand. > "Ops, >do you have the date for me?" Mike: [Kathy] Well, Rogers in Stellar Cartography is pretty nice. > "Aye sir, it is July 26, 1999," the ensign at Ops replied. Mike: Wow! Got it that accurately in seconds! Crow: Makes Spock seem like a real slacker, doesn't it? > "Happy negative 280th birthday Captain," Ross responded, >grinning. Crow: Ross Lochard, mathematical genius! Mike: Ooh, let's get her an un-birthday present. > "Ross," Kathy admonished, Crow: [Kathy] Party's over, we're out of time... > not sparing a look back at her >husband, but her tone Tom: At Kathy's tone, the time will be... > telling him of what she thought of his >attempt at levity on the Bridge. Tom: All that in one WORD? Not too shabby. Mike: The thing I like about fan fiction stories is that you can usually tell what time they're written. Heaven forbid they should travel to an interesting time instead. > "Captain the Eagle has already entered the Solar System," >Ross informed. Mike: Who is Captain the Eagle? Tom: Isn't he that guy from the Muppets? Mike: Don't think so... > "Kathy where do you think you will catch up with them?" >Marrissa asked. Tom: [Kathy] Well, they're playing Baton Rouge next week. Mike: Okay, I call time on the Eagles refs, Tom. Tom: Okay, okay... > "I'd have to say in Earth orbit, assuming that's where >they're going," Kathy Lochard replied as Wesley and Lieutenant >Lavelle entered the bridge. > "Any advice for me, big brother?" Marrissa asked Wesley. Crow: You shall invade Eurasia, now! > "Just don't let your ship be seen," Wesley replied. Tom: How not to be seen. > "Admiral Scott?" Marrissa questioned. Mike: [Wesley] Well, they can't HELP seeing HIM; I mean, LOOK at him, for crying out loud... > "Visual and ray sensor screen active," Scotty replied. Crow: Ray won't be able to see us at all. Mike: Jeez, now from over here... > "The Eagle has entered Earth orbit," Ross appraised. Tom: ...the bridge furniture, deciding which pieces should be sent to auction. > "Time to orbit?" Marrissa asked. Crow: Why not? Any time's a good time to orbit! This message brought to you by the Geosynchronous Council. > "Thirty seconds," Kathy said. Crow: They're orbiting a bit fast aren't they? Mike: That was a fast four hours. > "Hail the Eagle," Marrissa ordered. All: Hail Eagle! > "Use subspace >narrowband channels Tom: [Marrissa] And find those missing quotation marks! > "They are refusing to respond," Ross said. "Detecting >transporter activity." > "Trace beam down location," Marrissa ordered. [Mike and Tom look at Crow.] Crow: What? Mike: Never mind. [He pats Crow onna head.] > "Somewhere in Florida," Ross replied. Crow: Oh no! They're going to retire! Tom: No...it can't...why, yes it is! They're going to DISNEY WORLD! They're planning to assassinate Mickey Mouse! They'll have to enlist the help of the Disney Secret Service!! > "The Eagle is moving >off." Mike: [Ross] It seems to be flying with the dove, oh omnipotent one. > "Follow them," Marrissa ordered. "Ross, save those >coordinates. Mike: [Marrissa] You know how endangered they are. > Scotty, easiest way to take down their shields." Tom: Shoot at them? > "I can bring them down," Scotty said. Mike: [Scotty] I'll just read them passages from Time Speeder. > "The question is what >are they trying to do here?" Mike: Steal Shamu so that orcas will exist in the future? Tom: Take hostages at Universal Studios? Crow: Ride "Star Tours"? Tom: Collect rare coins? Crow: Party like it's -- Mike: No. > "Good Question," Marrissa responded. "Computer Significant >events in Earth History within the next two weeks." Crow: Oh, goodie! Ratliff's playing "Criswell Predicts" again... Tom: I guess he really is the Ed Wood of fan fiction. > "July 29, King William V ascends the throne of Great >Britain. [All snicker.] Tom: Yeah, like Elizabeth would ever release her stranglehold on the throne before her death. Mike: Maybe she does die in this story. Tom: All right, then. Like Charles would ever abdicate in favor of William. > August 1, first manned mission to Mars Launched. [All laugh uproariously.] Mike: August 2, Americans realize the actual mission won't be as funny as "Rocketman" and completely lose interest in it. >August 3, Iraq tries to invade Syria." Tom: August 4, two million Iraqi soldiers attempt to surrender to a goat herder that happened to walk by. Mike: Earth had a busy few days, eh? Crow: I can actually believe that one might happen. Mike: Well, even a stopped clock is right twice a day. Tom: Unless one of the hands falls off. > "Computer, elaborate on the second one," Marrissa said. Tom: [computer voice] The second manned mission to Mars - Crow: [Marrissa] No, the first one. Tom: [computer voice] King William the Fifth was crowned - Crow: [Marrissa] No, the second one. Tom: [computer voice] King William the Second ascended the throne in - Crow: [Marrissa] No, not the second king - the second one, like I said at first. Tom: [computer voice] King William the First ruled in ---- > "August 1, 1999. Tom: Prince, finally realizing the horror he's unleashed on the world, buys every copy of *that* song and destroys them. > The United States launched the Endeavor, >the last part of the hybrid spacecraft Athena from Cape >Canaveral, Florida. Mike: The poor thing was always being picked on by the pure blooded spacecraft. > The mission was launched after the Mars >Explorer landing in 1997 renewed interest. Crow: Bzzt! I'm sorry, Stephen, that was actually Mars *Pathfinder.* But thanks for playing! Tom: [newscaster] A new report from the surface of Mars today: Pathfinder has found a new ROCK! Details at eleven. Mike: [newscaster] News from NASA and their Pathfinder space probe: A ROCK has been found on Mars! Tom: [newscaster] Today the Pathfinder probe sent back startling readings; the surface of Mars is apparently COVERED with ROCKS! > Despite being rushed >to launch, the mission was an astounding success. [All laugh even more uproariously than before.] Tom: He really does live in his own world, doesn't he? Crow: Yep. Should we disabuse him of a few notions? Mike: Naah. This child-like faith in technology is endearing. [The bots look at Mike.] Mike: Besides, we wouldn't be able to make fun of it in future stories. Crow: Good point. > That mission >enabled an accelerated launch of several additional missions of >exploration including the ill-fated Stargazer mission to Saturn." Crow: I get the feeling that it all comes down to this. Tom: Whatever gave you that idea? >-- >Stephen Ratliff Radford University >sratliff@runet.edu Roanoke, VA 24018 >rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target. Marrissa Stories Author >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/FAQs/ FAQ Maintainer for ASC. >http://www.runet.edu/~sratliff/ascindex/ Index Maintainer too. >also at: http://archive.nu/ ASCA Moderator > >"Starfleet officers do not go around *murdering* other officers." >"Not usually, anyway." -- Bashir and Odo, ST:DS9 "Field of Fire" >From sratliff@runet.edu Sat Mar 13 16:52:46 1999 >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Athena Prospects 06/11 (Marrissa Stories) >From: sratliff@runet.edu (Stephen Ratliff) Mike: o/~ Stephen, Stephen Ratliff. Cardassians view him in fear. o/~ >Date: 13 Mar 1999 23:52:46 GMT > > >Title: Athena Prospects >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories #10 >Rating: [G] Crow: As in, "Gee whiz, we gotta keep reading this?!" >Codes: n/a >Parts: NEW 6/11 Tom: 6 out of 11 doctors recommend this story to induce vomiting. > >Summary: >Shortly After Marrissa Crow: Shortly's after Marrissa? Go Shortly! > leaves the Enterprise-E to serve as Second >Officer on the Stargazer, a group of extremists steal a starship >and attempt to change the past. With the help of the Clintons, >Marrissa, Wesley, and the crew of the Stargazer must stop them >from stopping the first manned mission to Mars. Mike: Marrissa would let budget cutbacks and public apathy do that instead. > >101374 Crow: Pointless numbers strike again! >Chapter Five > Crow: ...is alive! > After beaming something or someone down to Florida, the >Eagle moved out of orbit. Mike: Previously on 'Athena Prospects...' > Marrissa had to take action. Tom: She had to take some aspirin, too. > She >couldn't let the Eagle get away, but she couldn't let what ever >beamed down to Florida get away either. Crow: Ahh, to be able to bi-locate... > She spied Wesley out of >the corner of her eye and an idea hit. Mike: [Marrissa] Don't just stand there! Go rent 'Stand By Me.' > "Wes, can you go after >whatever beamed down to Florida?" she asked. Mike: [Wesley] Sure, just let me get my inhaler. > "Certainly, Sis," Wesley replied. All: Bricker bracker, firecracker, Sis-boom-bah! > "Go," Marrissa ordered. Crow: Go like you've never goed before. > Wesley phased out of view as she >turned back toward the viewscreen. Crow: Just like in real life. Tom: [Marrissa] Ho-hum. I'm inured to such displays of omnipotence. > "Kathy, close in on the >Eagle. I don't need them at my back. Mike: I don't need you bustin' my chops! > Admiral Scott, is there >any way to take those shields down without a light show?" Mike: Well, Wesley could have used his miraculous time-freeze powers, if you hadn't sent him down to Florida. Tom: o/~ He's a Smmmmaaalll Wonder... o/~ > "Aye, lassie," Scotty said, sitting down at the Engineering >station and limbering up his fingers theatrically. Mike: [Scotty] A keyboard...how quaint! > "Just let me >have a word with her computers and she'll be marching to my >beat." Mike: Jack Kerouac IS Montgomery Scott. Crow: I have seen the best minds of my generation, destroyed by fanfics. Mike: I think that was Ginsberg. Crow: Wow! Beat poet *and* Supreme Court Justice! Tom: o/~ You and I/ Travel to the drum of a different beat... o/~ > "You know the Eagle's prefix code?" Marrissa inquired. Tom: [Scotty] Aye, lass, I downloaded a file of hacks & cracks from a Starfleet warez site. > "Aye, lass, I borrowed her to do some supply delivery for my >refit projects," Scotty said, typing away. Crow: But Ratliff said earlier that it'd been out of service for 50 years... Mike: Now, now. Stay away from the nasty continuity error. > "I've lowered her >shields." Crow: Wow! Plot contrivance from out of nowhere! Nice! > "Ross, I want that ship under our control Tom: [Marrissa] Just the way I like my men! > and her crew in >our brig," Lieutenant Commander Picard ordered. > Tom: [Marrissa] Err...also the way I like my men. > Wesley phased into existence in an alley near a beach. Crow: Wow! I feel like I'm really there! Tom: Looks like he beamed down to Galveston. > The >interfering time travelers had beamed down into that very alley >just five minutes before. Crow: He knew that 'cause he could do MAGIC things. > Wesley would have arrived at the same >time as they did if he could, but Tom: ...he was in cahoots with them? Mike: Somehow, I doubt that. > his recent travel had left him >somewhat drained. Crow: Oh sure, phasing in and out is fine, but five little minutes difference is a big problem? I'm starting to not believe this fic. Mike: You're just starting now? > Wesley wore black shorts and a white t-shirt Mike: Did he also wear black socks with white shoes? [snickers] > which read Mike: My parents went to Risa and all I got was this stupid T-shirt. Tom: Think universally - act galactically. Crow: Star Trek CXXXVII: Still Milking the Franchise. >"Stanford University Computer Science: We don't have a life, we >have a program." Crow: Mi-ike! He's breaking the fourth wall again! Tom: HA HA HA HA HA! [Tom falls out of his chair] Mike: Oh, come on now... [Mike picks Tom back up] Tom: [giggling] I'm sorry Mike, it was really funny. > He quickly scanned the area, looking for clues. Mike: Wesley, searching for clues - I can't do it. It's too easy. Crow: Where's Jupiter Jones when you need him? >Other than the recent tire prints in the sand of the alley, Tom: Haven't these people heard of pavement? > there >was no sign of anyone having been there in weeks. Crow: Gee, I wonder what the CLUE is. Tom: So whoever beamed down beamed directly into the vehicle? And where'd they get it, anyway? Mike: Maybe they brought it with them from the FUTURE! Tom: So where'd they get it *then?* Mike: Now, now. Just turn off your brain--you'll feel better. > The five >minutes had been enough to let them get away. Crow: Gee, too bad Wesley can't *time-travel*. > He tapped his communicator, which had been attached to his >belt buckle. Tom: [Sarcasm] Ooh, stylish. Mike: He's been on Earth for under a minute, but between the T-shirt and the Star Trek buckle, I don't know why he hasn't been beaten up already. > "Crusher to Stargazer," he said. > "Stargazer here," his sister replied. "I assume you have >good news?" Tom: [Wesley] Well, duuuuhhh...there are some TIRETRACKS here, but I'm not sure if it was THEM or not...help me solve this mystery of Scoobydooish proportions! > "I'm afraid I got here to late," Wesley said. "I'm at the >coordinates now, but they're long gone." Mike: Well, only if you consider five minutes long. Crow: Yeah, stop making excuses, Wesley! > "Can't you travel back to when they arrive?" Marrissa asked. Tom: [Marrissa] You're not an adult! You can't have limitations in this story. > "No, I don't have that much fine control, time-wise," Wesley >explained Mike: How inconvenient for Marrissa. How convenient for the plot. > "In addition, all my recent travel has dulled my >abilities. I could use a good night's sleep." Mike: So get a good night's sleep and *then* go to the right time! Crow: For a time traveler, he sure doesn't know much about the possibilities. > "OK, as soon as we finish securing the Eagle, Tom: [Marrissa] I just have to set the parking brake... > we'll beam you >up and see about finding a new plan," Marrissa decided. >"Stargazer out." Crow: Marrissa's first crushing defeat, I guess. Tom: Yeah, well... small comfort. Story's not over yet. Plenty of time for some patented Ratliff action. Mike: Wait, wait...so he doesn't have enough "power left" to beam himself back up? Tom: Yeah, you don't really get THAT many teleportations until you get another dot in the auspex. > Wesley walked toward the beach, killing time Crow: ...and several dozen crabs... > until the >Stargazer was back in range. Mike: Wonderful. Even the author admits he's just killing time. Tom: Welcome to Miami... Crow: Party in the city where the heat is on... Mike: All right, that's enough. > It was early morning, about seven, >and the beach was almost empty. Tom: Wait a sec. It's Florida, in the middle of the summer, and the beaches are still empty at 7:00? I don't *think* so. > There was red haired woman in a >gray sweat shirt jogging up the beach Crow: *Just* a sweatshirt? Yowza! > with a man in a black suit >following her. Mike: Tommy Lee Jones? > As she drew closer, Wes read the black words on >her shirt, "Stanford University." Mike: [groan] Tom: Oh, no, not CHELSEA... > Wes smiled, she was right on >schedule. There was some advantage to being from the future. Tom: Oh, apparently he has fine enough "control" to meet up with his GIRLFRIEND. Crow: So it's a matter of historical record that she was jogging on that beach at that time? Mike: Sure. It's all on that "Hampton's Painfully Detailed Interactive Encyclopedia of Stuff people did in 1999" CD-ROM. >"Good morning, Chelsea," he said. [All groan.] Mike: Well, it WAS a red-haired woman followed by a man in a suit on the beach...who were you expecting? Crow: Dana Scully, maybe. Tom: No sense taking advantage of his amazing powers to make millions in the stock market, prevent uncounted tragedies, bring humankind cures for disease, or end world hunger and poverty. Wes is just gonna hit on Chelsea Clinton. > Chelsea stopped, and her escort skidded to a stop beside >her. Mike: Yeah, them beaches can really ice up of a morning. > "Wes, when did you get here?" Tom: [Wesley] When, when, when . . . you pathetic 4-dimensional beings are all so *linear*. > "Five Minutes ago," Wesley said, as he closed the distance >between them. Crow: Miami Beach! Slowly I turned...step by step... > "What took you so long?" Chelsea asked. "Its been three >months since I last saw you." Crow: [Chelsea] Three wonderful, glorious, Wesley-free months! Tom: Isn't there some regulation against messing with the past? Mike: Apparently, all the Federation's efforts went into passing that speed limit. > "Well you know, I live a couple hundred parsecs and 374 >years away, and it's a hell of a commute," Crow: Well, it is until they build that new expressway. > Wesley said smiling as >Chelsea stepped up to him. Tom: Wow! Look guys! You can actually see history circling the drain! Mike+Crow: Ooooooh! > "I know," Chelsea replied, hugging the time traveler. "I >suppose you aren't going to tell me why you're here again." Mike: [Chelsea] Since you *never* come just to see me. > "That depends on my sister," Wesley responded, enjoying the >feel of Chelsea in his arms. Tom: Poor Chelsea. Crow: That's one heck of a secret service agent she has. Hmm. Strange guy, pops up out of nowhere, starts pawing the first daughter - well, no harm there, I guess. > "Sister?" > "Marrissa's in charge of this mission," Tom: As USUAL... > Wesley replied, as a >soft beep was heard. Crow: Monica Lewinsky must be backing up. > "Stargazer to Crusher," a voice said. Crow: Saved by the comm badge. > "I assume that's her now," Chelsea said. "I'll leave you to >talk to her. Mike: What, she's "leaving him"? That's a break-up line... Crow: Yeah, look familiar, Mike? > Come see me, if you can. Mike: [Chelsea] I'll have the Secret Service waiting to stop you. > I'm at 7631 Armstrong >Drive." Tom: Okay Mike, I know I've said things like this before, but I am serious this time... Mike: Okay. Tom: If we ever, I mean EVER, see Wesley Crusher... you know... I want you to kill me as quickly as possible. Mike: I will do this thing you request of me. Crow: Me too, Mike. > She withdrew from Wesley's arms and resumed her jog, with >her Secret Service escort behind her. Mike: [Secret Service Agent] Hey...how's about a little sugar for the security, honey? > Wesley sighed. >Maintaining a long distance relationship was not easy. Tom: Especially when it's a sure-fire way to destroy the timeline. > "Crusher >here," he said, answering the call. Crow: [Wesley] *Fabulous* timing, Sis. > "Transporters are now available." Mike: Thank you for your patience. Please hold for the next available transporter. We hope you will choose Star Fleet for all your transporting needs. > "One to beam up now." Mike: [Wesley] Can you beam me directly to a cold shower? > > Marrissa sat at the head of the table in the observation >lounge Crow: ...vowing never to have a family reunion again. > receiving the bad news. Tom: [Marrissa] What do you mean, B*witched is breaking up? > Admiral Scott sat to her right, >and her brother Wesley on her left. Crow: Damn, that is bad news. > Lieutenant Ross Lochard, the >Chief of Security, was next to Wesley. Mike: The thrilling "placecard" scene. > At the moment, Lochard >was telling of his frustrated Mike: Movie career? > questioning of the crew of the >Eagle. Mike: Oh. Tom: [Ross] I was questioning the crew of the Eagle. It was really frustrating. > "I'm really getting tired of them calling me a war hawk and >militarist," Lochard said. Tom: [Ross] And they won't let me join in their terrorist games. *sniffle* And they won't even call me 'G-Dog' like I asked. > "It wouldn't be so bad if they would >tell me something about what they plan to do, but they won't. Crow: [Ross] I mean, just because I represent an organization they view as militarist and meddlesome doesn't mean they shouldn't confide in me, right? >The only thing I could get out is what they were saying when my >security team beamed aboard. 'The prospects of Athena do not look >good.' That's all I have." Mike: Hey! Look! The title! Bots: [weakly] Hooray. > "Admiral Scott, what information do we have on the Athena?" >Marrissa asked. Tom: This mythical miss sprang full-grown from the brow of Zeus. Athena's turn-ons include olive groves, owls, smart guys, and the Parthenon. Turn-offs include Trojans, temple-destroyers, and stuck-up conceited goddesses who think they're better than she is. Mike: To be fair, Trojans are a turn-off for a lot of people. Tom: Hey, I *like* USC. > "The Athena is a hybrid Crow: ...seed corn that's more resistant to blight? > spacecraft to be assembled in >orbit," Tom: It is part spacecraft, part ALIEN BEING!! Mike: So, she's the Greek goddess of wisdom, battle, olive trees, and hybrid space technology? > Scotty said. "The first two components were launched by >the Russians last week. Mike: Where'd they get the money for that? > They are the engine and fuel compartment >and a secondary living space. Tom: [Scotty] They've already started falling apart, there's some homeless guy squatting in the living space, and a bunch of empty vodka bottles are clogging the fuel pump. > The finial component is the Space >Shuttle Endeavor. Mike: It goes here, just above the entablature and the architrave, by the pediment, between the metopes. Tom: So we just lashed our space shuttle to a bunch of Russian components and suddenly we have a mission to Mars? Crow: You know there's a problem when your space program is less prepared than the kids in the movie "Explorers." > It will be launched from Cape Canaveral on the >first, amid a quite a bit of fan fare Crow: They're charging fans to watch the launch? Mike: Those budget cuts are really hurting. > and docked with the rest of >the Athena on the third." Crow: I wonder if any aging astronauts are going to wedge their way onto *this* mission under flimsy pretenses? > "OK, that's their target," Marrissa stated. Tom: They work at that store? Let's see if they can get us jobs there. > "We know that >at least four members of the Eagle's crew are in Florida with a >24th Century Technology. Mike: -and a hankering for something chicken-y. > How can we stop them without revealing >ourselves?" Mike: Hey, it's Florida. Some plaid golf pants, Bermuda shorts with sandals & black socks, 3 cameras around your neck - you'll blend right in. > "I have some contacts that may help us," Wesley said. Tom: Thanks, but I'm going with laser refractive surgery. Crow: [Wesley] They're to cover up your yellow, glowing, "future" eyes. > "I've >worked in this time period before. Mike: [Wesley] From what I know about the 1990's, we'll blend in JUST fine if we all wear long wigs and talk a lot about peace! > I know the current President >and his daughter. Crow: One more intimately than the other. Tom: Eeewww. > They've helped before. Since the President >will be attending the launch, Tom: No, he's been doing too much of that lately. > I think he will allow us to be >added to the Secret Service Advance Team. I've still got my >Secret Service badge anyway." Mike: Good thing, too. They can traverse interstellar distances, replicate matter, and travel back and forth through time, but the 24th century lacks sophisticated badge-laminating technology. > "OK, how do you suggest we approach President Clinton?" >Marrissa inquired. Mike: Oh lord. Crow: On your knees is always a good way. Tom: Buy him a plate of ribs, he'll love you forever. Crow: Or with donuts. Tom: Or ring his doorbell, and run. Crow: Just *don't* wear a blue dress. Trust me on this one. > "Well his daughter Chelsea is currently an intern at the >Kennedy Space Center," Crow: Apparently it's a federal law for Presidential offspring to make foolish career decisions. Tom: An intern? Mike: Uh, Steve, seen a newspaper lately? Tom: An INTERN? Mike: A TV newscast, magazine, cnn.com, bookstore, anything? > Wesley began. "I can contact her and then >I suggest that Chelsea and I go talk to her father." Mike: [Wesley] CONTACT and SUGGEST, if you know what I mean. > "I'll agree with that, but I'm coming as well," Marrissa >said. Tom: Marrissa doesn't trust Wesley. That's a positive sign. [Crow starts shaking visibly but manages to remain silent.] > "Respectfully, Captain," Ross began, Crow: [Ross] Bite me. > "but you are our >commanding officer Mike: [Ross, mumbling] God help us all. > and should not be going into risky >situations." Mike: ...don't pull this Riker crap on me now. Crow: Where did that come from? Mike: [puzzled] I... don't... know... Tom: I'm reading this in a whole new light now. > "Lieutenant, I don't think that visiting the President of >the United States of America is a risky situation," Marrissa >replied. [No comment. Just long, loud laughter from the trio.] > "If you think so, I'd like to know why." Tom: Hey! If he comes after you with a box of cigars, don't say I didn't warn you! Mike: Steve, surely you've seen ONE DAMNED HEADLINE in the last year or so! Tom: Now, Mike, don't get all worked up and go off on some pointless rant. That's my schtick. Crow: Hang on: a young, virile woman is going to visit BILL CLINTON with only the likes of Wimpy Wesley as protection, and she's wondering how it COULD be dangerous? Tom: "Virile"? Crow: [ignoring] HELLO! "Marrissa Lewinsky," anyone? > > Timothy Mann stood outside the Oval Office. Mike: [Mann] Man, am I gonna have to hose those two off? > His job was to >guard the President. Crow: ...from Hilary. > That had not been an easy job. Mike: There were days he's had to beat the pizza delivery boys away with a stick. >Theoretically, everyone had to pass numerous guards to reach the >President. Tom: They also had to cross a lava moat and the "Gauntlet of a Thousand Deaths." > Last spring had disproved that theory. Mike: [sighing] Do you get the feeling that if Steve had been around in the early 1960's, Kennedy's assassination would have escaped his notice? Crow: I can remember exactly where I was when I heard the movie JFK had been shot. > Several time >the First Daughter and her boyfriend Crow: Who's Several? And why's he timing Chelsea and Wes? Are they running the 400-meter hurdles or something? > had somehow visited without >passing either. Tom: Either *what?* Mike: Ummm...either the guards or a sobriety test? Tom: Sounds about right. > It was almost enough to make the head of the >Presidential Detail wish that the FBI really had an X-Files >division. Mike: Oh, I'm sure more than just his head is wishing that. Tom: No way, Ratliff! You leave the X-Files alone! Crow: Yeah, we're not letting you ruin another genre! > But Wesley had been given full access and even given Secret >Service credentials. Mann didn't like this. Mike: Dissed by the Mann! Tom: A Mann after our own hearts. Crow: He must be portraying the standard EveryMann character. > After all, Wesley >had no background Mike: Wherever he stood, there was just a blank white space behind him. > and claimed to be from the future. Tom: Uh, what was it that they said earlier about not wanting to reveal themselves? Crow: Wes doesn't have to play by their rules, he's SuperWeenie! > He had to >be crazy. Mike: But what the Hell, let him sneak into the Oval Office! It's fun! Crow: The Mann is crazy! > On the other hand, he did have some extraordinary >talents, Crow: We've yet to see them. > and Mann wasn't one to argue with the Commander and >Chief. Mike: Both of them. Crow: Stick it to the Mann! > In his ear came the message, Mike: Uh, oh. He's hearing voices again... > "First Daughter, Future Guy, >and companion heading for Oval Office." Mike: [Secret Service Agent] Meanwhile, "Woodchuck," "Chicken Soup," and "Stinky" heading for Lincoln Bedroom. Crow: I want my Secret Service Code Name to be "God." Tom: Nice code name, Wes. Way to stay undercover. > They came into view >around the corner. All: o/~ Here they come... Walkin' down the hall... o/~ > Chelsea was wearing a blue polo shirt with >tan slacks. Wesley wore the traditional Secret Service attire of >a black suit complete with sunglasses. Crow: Here comes the Dork In Black! Galaxy defender... > Behind them was a blond >girl in a red blouse and black skirt who couldn't be more than 15 >years old. Crow: [Mann] Oh, boy...here we go again. Tom: It's Sailor Moon! Mike: Red blouse. Tom: Sailor Mars, then! > Mann knocked on the door and announced, Mike: ...his resignation. > "Chelsea, Wesley, >and Crow: [Mann] ...your new intern... > a friend to see you, sir." > Tom: [Clinton] Thanks. You da Mann. Mike: [Mann] Please stop that sir. Crow: Oh sure, that's a big security check there. > President Clinton was going though the latest intelligence >reports on Iraq when his daughter and her friends arrived. >Saddam Hussein was due to make his quarterly defiance of UN >resolutions, Tom: He'd even scheduled it in his budget. > and Clinton intended to head him off this year. Mike: [Clinton] *I'll* be the first one to defy the UN this year! Tom: When Ratliff wrestles with politics, they're out of his weight class! Crow: Yes, some day, we'll get Saddam, just like we nailed that Fidel Castro! Oh...wait. > If >he would have just let the inspectors inspect everywhere back in >1997, Saddam probably wouldn't be still under the said >resolutions, but who ever said dictators had to be sane. Mike: Actually, I thought insanity was one of the prerequisites. Crow: Oh, in PERSON, Saddam Hussein is the NICEST GUY ever. I met him once in Vegas. > The President would have asked Chelsea to wait, but So Damn >Insane [Weak laughter from the trio.] Crow: So Damn Insane, huh? Move over, Mark Russel. > didn't seem to be doing anything at the moment, and she >had come all the way from Florida Tom: ...with the land deal of a lifetime! > without the aid of traditional >transportation. Mike: She took a zeppelin. Tom: He inferred that from "Chelsea, Wesley, and a friend to see you, sir?" > Plus Wesley was with her, and if he was with >her, chances are it was important. Tom: Chances are he wanted the President to get him back on Star Trek somehow. > "Send them in," Clinton >ordered, Mike: His own daughter doesn't matter, but Wesley's here, so let them in. > his voice still a little horse Tom: Does he have a colt? Crow: No, it's marely a sore throat. > from the previous night's >speeches. Mike: Saying, "I'm *so* sorry," over and over takes a lot out of you. Tom: Is it sounding a little "COURSE," Ratliff? Is it? > At least he didn't have to answer any more questions >about Whitewater. Mike: Yeah, older scandals tend to be overshadowed by the newer ones. > A special prosecutor with too much time on his >hands was a real pain. Crow: Prosecutions, and he's wondering about WHITEWATER? Mike: [Prosecutor] AND there is the small matter of a suspected rape, but we can settle that out of court. > As for a Congress set on taking him down >any way they could, the thought still sent chiles down his spine. Tom: Rip-roarin' Texas-style, Dancin' Green Chiles! On their way to make a zesty salsa in his pants! [Mike shudders.] >Thankfully, this current Congress seemed to be trying to avoid >partisan politics. [All snicker.] Mike: How, exactly? By not openly exchanging gunfire? Tom: There's that fantasy world again. > His daughter entered in a most exuberant mood.