MiSTing: Home For Christmas [STNG/Holiday] [PG] [4/4]
MBlackw415
>things for a while here?"
> Marie smiled, "I've been running this kitchen since you were a
>baby, Belle. I think I can handle it while you show your baby to your
>father."
Tom: Whoops. The stove seems to have caught fire. I hope my souffle is
okay.
> "Thank you."
>
[Crow and Tom face each other]
Bots: Dr. E.
Mike: Who?
Tom: Before your time, Mike.
> Isabelle slowly opened the door to her son's nursery. Her
>father followed behind her. Little Rene was in his walnut crib,
Crow: Riker, no! Get that giant nutcracker out of here! <Crack> Oh!
Oh, the humanity!
>fast asleep. The two crept up on him.
Mike: Just in case. After all, the baby might be packing heat.
> He laid in the crib
>with his left thumb in his mouth and his blanket spread evenly across
>his chest.
Tom: The blanket rested on the baby, with an occasional 0.1 cm high
wrinkle in the cloth. The baby himself lay 22.1 cm from the east
side of the crib...
>Philippe Boucher looked on his grandson for the first time. "He's
>perfect," Philippe whispered.
Tom: Except for the extra head, but that goes without saying.
> "I know," Isabelle replied.
>
Mike: Wasn't that the other guy's line?
>--
>Stephen Ratliff CS Major, Radford University.
Tom: That's it?
Crow: No "everyone introduces themselves" scene?
Mike: No fight scenes?
Tom: No alien invaders?
Crow: Or guest appearances by the Pope?
Mike: Heck, not even a scene with Philipe joining the Picards for
dinner?
Tom: <sniff> Not even a "God bless us everyone"?
Crow: I guess that Ratliff felt sorry for us and just ended it.
Tom: Or he quit writing before he did anything stupid in this one.
Mike: Well, let's not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Tom: Please don't say "horse" in a Ratliff story anymore.
>srat...@runet.edu Radford, Virginia 24142-7496
Tom: So, All of this was just a prologue for another story?
Mike: I don't think so.
Crow: Well, we never did see a Chapter 1, so this must have been just
a really long prologue.
>rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc's polite target. Marrissa Stories Author
Crow: Here's my webpage, one of many hopelessly cluttering up the
internet:
>http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/
Crow: And here's a webpage with pictures of my dog:
>http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/FAQs/ FAQ Maintainer and
Crow: And here's my CD collection:
>http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/index/ Index Maintainer for
Crow: And my page of links, most of which lead to Yahoo, or Zima, or the Spot:
>http://aviary.share.net/~alara/ alt.startrek.creative
>
>"The only reason they haven't killed me is that I'm part of their
> victory celebration. 7:00, Dukat makes a speech, 8:30, cake and
> raktagino, 8:45, execute the Ferengi."
> -Rom, DS9 "Sacrifice of Angels"
>
Tom: And behold! A light has appeared in the rear of the theater!
'Tis the exit, and we shall follow it to gaze upon the wonder of
the bridge!
[The trio exits.]
[1. . .2. . .3. . .4. . .5. . . 6 . . .]
[The Bridge. The crew is gathered around a brightly-lit tree, while Mike is
distributing presents.]
Mike: ...okay, here's one from Tom to Gypsy.
Gypsy: Hooray!
Mike: And one to me from Tom. Thanks Tom. finally, one from Gypsy to
Crow. And that's all of them.
[Packages are ripped open by all except Crow, who looks forlornly at
the floor.]
Tom: Wow! A rock tumbler! Thanks Mike!
Mike: You're welcome! I'm glad that you liked it.
Gypsy: A lawnmower! Thanks Tom!
Mike: Lawnmower?
Tom: She kept dropping hints about one.
Gypsy: An example of pre-Minosian pottery celebrating the harvest day
feast during the 6th year of the reign of King Adreppi! Thanks
Mike!
Tom: Where'd you get that?
Mike: It was in the cupboard, behind a box of Grape Nuts.
Tom: Ah. That explains it. No one likes Grape Nuts.
Mike: Hey, Crow? Are you okay? You haven't touched your presents.
Crow: Well Mike, I... <sniff> I..., didn't get you guys any presents.
Gypsy: Scuba gear! Thanks Magic Voice!
Mike: [Comfortingly] Well, why not?
Crow: I was too wrapped up in the season, and I just forgot about it
until it was too late.
Mike: Why, that's okay Crow. It happens to all of us...
Gypsy: Picasso's "Starry Night!" Thanks Cambot!
Crow: Plus, we *are* out in space, 20,000 miles away from the nearest
store. By the way, where did you get all of these gifts?
Tom: The nanites built a "Mall of Nanitia."
Gypsy: A NASCAR Barbie! Thanks Bobo!
Crow: Great! Are they still open, I could go over there and. . .
Tom: Nah. It's gone. The nanites shut it down a few hours ago when
some idiot starved to death on his way there. "He couldn't find
it," they said. How can you miss something that big? Sheesh!
Gypsy: Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time." From Observer, who
writes, "It's a laugh riot!" Thanks Observer!
Crow: Oh. Well, I guess that's that then. I've failed you guys. <sniff>
Mike: Now now Crow. Look around you for a second. [Heartwarming music
begins to play in the background.] You're surrounded by people,
and robots, who care about you. None of us care about who gave
who a gift...
Tom: I do.
Mike: ...we love you no matter what you gave us. We give gifts because
we care about you, and we don't expect anything in return. We're
your friends, Crow. [The console light begins to flash, while
the music swells to a crescendo.] And remember Crow, no man is
a failure who has friends. [To the screen.] What do you think,
Pearl?
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl appears to have been crying, clearly moved by the above
exchange.]
Pearl: Mike, that was beautiful. Maybe I've been wrong to trap you in
that satellite. Why, I should just let you out of there right
now!
[Bobo enters, dressed in a 1920s High school letter jacket. He begins to speak
in a voice vaguely like that of Jimmy Stewart.]
Bobo: Lawgiver? Are you feeling sad? Well, let me cheer you up
somehow. Do you want the moon, Lawgiver? Let met just throw a
lasso around it, and I'll drag it down to Earth for you. Then
you could swallow it, and be able to shoot moon beams out of
your fingers. Then watch as the world trembles before you!
Ha-ha-ha!
[Pan back to Pearl, who's looking quite annoyed.]
Pearl: Mike, forget what I just said. Banana brain here just ruined
the mood for me. I'll be sending you up something with Pauly
Shore in it later today. [To Bobo.] Bobo, did you ever see
"Rear Window"?
Bobo: No Lawgiver.
Pearl: Well, I'm going to recreate it for you.
Bobo: Great!
Pearl: First thing though, we'll have to break your legs.
Bobo: Great! I mean, what?
[Pearl grins evilly and the transmission goes dead, but not before we
hear Bobo screaming in terror.]
[SoL]
Mike: Well, so much for *that* ray of hope. [Cheerfully] Oh well.
It's still Christmas.
Crow: Mike, what do you mean "No one is a failure who has friends?"
That's silly. I mean, look at Uncle Billy. He was a lousy
businessman, *and* he lost a bunch of money at the bank...
[Mike begins to develop a "Don't make me angry. You won't like me when
I'm angry." look in his eyes.]
Tom: Crow, Mike's losing it...
Crow: Uh oh. [pause] Hey everyone! Let's go caroling!
Tom: Yeah! Caroling! That'd be great!
Gypsy: I can wear my new galoshes that Pearl sent me!
Crow: Mike, you like caroling, don't you?
Tom: Come on, I'll start us off. o/~God rest ye merry, Gentlemen. Let
nothing you dismay...o/~
Mike: [Slowly at first, but gaining enthusiasm quickly.] o/~ Remember
Christ our savior was born on Christmas Day...o/~
[The quartet begins moving offscreen, with Tom and Crow trailing behind.]
Crow: You did get him some Thorazine for Christmas, didn't you?
Tom: Yep.
Mike: o/~...to save us All from Satan's power cause we had gone
astray. Oh tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and
joy....o/~
[They exit. The singing grows fainter and fainter until the bridge is
silent. Moments pass until a sparkling blue beam of light appears on the
Bridge. The light coalesces into a human form, that of a young,
bespectacled man carrying an armload of presents.]
Stephen: Merry Christmas everyone! [He begins to stumble around the
Bridge, trying to find a place to deposit his burden.]You
know, I was feeling sorry for you guys sitting up here and
being forced to read bad stories and watch cheesy movies.
Oh, and by the way, I'm really sorry about Time Speeder. I
shouldn't have released that one. Anyway, I contacted some
of my friends in Starfleet, and they agreed to come here and
take you home! Isn't that great!? [Near the end of his
statement, Stephen finds the console, and places the
presents atop it. He then looks around expectantly.] Guys?
Hmm. Someone else must have picked you up before I got here.
Oh well. I hope you have a nice Christmas, wherever you are.
Better turn off the lights. Computer, dim the lights please.
[The lights dim, and Stephen stands in silence for a moment while
looking at the tree's lights before he hits a device on his chest and
speaks again.]
Stephen: One to beam up.
[The transporter activates, and he vanishes in a flash of blue energy.
Cambot focuses in on the tree as the end credits begin.]
Home for Christmas:
Written by Stephen Ratliff <srat...@runet.edu>
MiSTing by Matt Blackwell <mbla...@ix.netcom.com>
Editing assistance from: Bill Livingston, Doug Atkinson, Steven Savage, Peter
Milan, Jen White, Ruth M. McIlhenny, and Jeff Roberts.
Star Trek:The Next Generation and all related characters and situations are
trademarks of and copyright of Viacom. All rights reserved.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations
are trademarks of and copyright of Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for non-commercial
parody, review, and commentary purposes only; no infringement
on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains,
Inc., Paramount, Inc., or anyone else, is intended or should be
inferred.
No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s)
are or should be implied. All characters in this work are
fictional , and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.
Stephen Ratliff's appearance was made possible by a grant from the Chubb group.
Mr. Ratliff's wardrobe is courtesy of The Men's Wearhouse of Norfolk,
Virginia. Great clothes, a great price, I guarantee it.
An explanation for the incense, record label, and Canadian coin joke
is available from the author upon request.
Special thanks to Dave Hines for being able to spell "Snuffleupagus."
For Christmas fun all year round, visit the North Pole Amusement Park,
located minutes outside of beautiful Colorado Springs.
Keep circulating the posts.
[The screen fades to black as the copyright appears.]
Mike: [v.o.] Hey, who gave me this copy of the Star Trek Technical
Manual?
[Guitar chord.]
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> Then Christmas morning I found her on my doorstep,
>tears following, holding her seventh month pregnant belly, in just her
>bathrobe. It was twenty degrees out!"
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