MiSTed - "Out of Time" by Dave Hines (1/3)
Bill Livingston
Freelance collection "Game Called on Account of Naked Chick" and polishing
off a plate of french fries]
Mike: Hah! Man, this Plan Nine stuff is great! [notices Cambot] Oh, hey,
all. Mike Nelson here on the SOL, relaxing and having a little
snack while I catch up on my reading. I'm not sure where the bots
have gotten off to, but I'm sure they're just - they - what th'...
[As we hear the approaching sound of rhythmic clapping, Tom, Crow & Gypsy
enter from stage left, dressed in what are obviously matching yellow-and-
black striped waitperson outfits (Use your own imagination to design one
for Gypsy - it's fun!). Crow, sporting a luxuriant handlebar mustache,
is carrying a huge cheesecake with a candle on top].
Bots: [singing/chanting]
1! 2! 1! 2! 1-2-3-4!
Happy happy birthday, to our friend so true,
Happy happy birthday, that is our wish to you!
So have a happy birthday, here way up above -
Happy happy birthday from the Satellite of Love! *Hey!*
Mike: You guys! No way! How'd you know today was my birthday?!
Crow: Aaaah, that's our little secret, Mikey! But it's our policy that
all birthday guests here at C.T. O'Robot's Satellite of Love and
Grill get themselves a free dessert!
Tom: Yeah, and you'll love this one - Megacheesecake!
Mike: Wow! You bots are the best!
Tom & Crow: We know.
Gypsy: Make a wish, Mike!
Mike: Oh, okay! [Closes his eyes for a second then blows out the candle
to many cheers] Well, dig in, all!
Tom: Thanks. Say, Nelson, how old *are* you today, anyway?
Mike: I shouldn't tell but - oh, what the heck? I'm 36.
Gypsy: Oh, my. It seems like only yesterday we found you on our doorstep.
Mike: Yep. But it was actually a little over six years ago - well, if
you don't count the 5 centuries we all spent wandering around as
disembodied energy.
Crow: And you know what that means, don't you, Mike?
Mike: That it's a good thing I'm able to somehow get clean undies up here?
Crow: Well, besides that! It means you've lived a *sixth* of your whole
life on the SOL!
Mike: Well - I suppose so, yeah.
Crow: Just think - 17% of your entire existence has been spent right here,
imprisoned on this little satellite, cut off from the rest of humanity -
except for a few robots, a couple of sadistic mad scientists and all
their evil henchpeople!
Mike: [smile fading] Uhm, yeah, y-you're right.
Crow: I mean, WOW!! Think of all the neat stuff that's passed you by while
you've been marooned up here! Boy, too bad you missed out on all those
prime years of your life, bucko!
Mike: [Now looking vaguely disturbed] Uh-huh. Uh, that, that's true.
Tom: Crow, maybe you shouldn't -
Crow: And of course, almost every spare moment has either been crammed with
wretched little films like "Neptune Men" or "Red Zone Cuba", or drippy
little internet postings like "The Eye of Argon" or "Agent Action"!
Mike: [looking *very* depressed] I, uh, I see, I see what you m-m-mean.
Tom: [hissing] Crow! Ix-nay on the ecap-ray!
Crow: [oblivious] On the other hand, of course, when you got here, you were
just another loser tempie worker toiling away for sub-minimum wage. So
hey! Being trapped 23,000 miles in space for over half a decade was no
big loss, right? Say, pass me a slice of that cheesecake, willya?
Mike: [devastated] Oh God! What have I done?!? I've wasted my entire
life! I'm nothing but a miserable, useless failure! [begins
beating his head against the counter in despair, moaning, in
rhythm] *thump*Why?!? *thump*Why?!? *thump*Why?!? *thump*Why?!?
Gypsy: Oh my!
Tom: D'oh!! Good one, Crow!
Crow: What?!? Oh, like *I* did this! I suppose just because *I* recited
a comprehensive list of Mike's shortcomings and failures in remorseless
detail, it's suddenly *my* fault he's miserably despondent!!!
Tom & Gypsy: Yes!!!
Crow: Well, geez, if you're gonna pick nits... [light flashes]
Tom: We'll be right back.
Gypsy: Mike? Mike honey?
Tom: C'mon, Nelson, you're denting the Formica
[We hear Mike's *thump*"Why?!?" continue under the meatball as we go to...]
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3) Cost of filming the ad - $2.5 Million
Cost of airtime - $75,000
The thrill of paying cash - Priceless
[SOL - Mike has his head buried in his arms. Crow & Servo, now sans
waitstaff uniforms, are on either side of him.]
Mike: [mumbling] Where did it all go so terribly wrong?!?
Crow: Oh, snap out of it, Mike! What kind of wimpy, pathetic brickhead
are you anyway?
Tom: Crow, you're not helping!
Crow: Tough love's the only way to snap him out of this, Servo.
Mike: [still mumbling] Ashes... it's all ashes...
Tom: Look, Crow, you've obviously touched some deep-seated neurosis in
Mike's psyche here. The only way to snap him out of his little
funk is through long and careful therapy, maybe a little anger
management, some sessions exploring his...
[Gypsy enters with a plate in her mouth which she sets next to Mike]
Gypsy: I made peanut butter cookies.
Mike: [perks up instantly] Peanut Butter? Wow, thanks, Gyps.
Tom: Then again, this *is* Mike we're talking about.
Crow: True.
[Lights begin to flash]
Mike: Look sharp guys, it's Martha & the Pearldellas. [hits button]
Crow: [to Gypsy] Peanut butter cookies?
Gypsy: It worked, didn't it?
[CASTLE FORRESTER - Pearl, Bobo & Observer are all gathered around the
camera, looking unusually cheerful, almost - perky]
Bobo: Hello, Mike!
Observer: Greetings!
Pearl: How's every little thing?
[SOL]
Tom: Uh-oh.
Crow: That look scares me.
Mike: [mouthful of cookie] Um, hey Pfearl? Fwat's ub?
[CF]
Pearl: Oh, not much, Mikey.
Bobo: Nothing at all.
Observer: Just - stuff.
Pearl: Stuff!
[SOL]
Crow: Why do I suddenly have this uncontrollable desire to throw myself
out of an airlock?
Tom: Tread carefully, all.
Mike: So - what's on the menu for today, Mrs. Forrester?
[CF]
Pearl: Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, tell you what Nelson - I'm gonna answer that in
the form of a riddle.
Bobo: Ooh, is this like that one about the chicken crossing the road?
Because I never did quite figure that one out, y'- [Pearl, still
smiling widely, stomps his foot] OWOWOWOW!
Pearl: Take it to the other side, monkey boy! Anyway, Nelsmat, here's your
riddle.
[SOL]
Mike: Okay, shoot.
[CF]
Pearl: Ooooh, don't tempt me.
Observer: Would you like for me to start it off, Pearl?
Pearl: Please do.
Observer: Thank you, madame. *Ahem* Listen carefully, Michael - when is
a story about a power-hungry, title-obsessive, uber-successful
Starfleet teenager...
[SOL]
All: Oh no!
[CF]
Pearl: ...*not* a story about a power-hungry, title-obsessive, uber-
successful Starfleet teenager?
[SOL]
Mike: Oh, well that's -
All: Huh?
[CF]
Pearl: Ah-ah-ah, any more would be telling! Just suffice it to say that
as painful as this story will be for you, it will be even moreso
for your little tinkertoys there! Brainyboy, do it.
[Observer does the little doodley-doodley thing]
Bobo: But where does the chicken fit into it, Lawgiver?
Pearl: Hmmm, I think it fits right *HERE*! [stomps Bobo's other foot]
Bobo: OWOWOWOWOWOW!!!!!
[SOL]
All: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! WE GOT QUASI-MARRISSA SIGN!!!
[Chaos, doors, etc.]
[6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O
[All enter]
Crow: So it's a Marrissa story, but it's *not* a Marrissa story?
Tom: Sounds kinda zen to me.
>Out of Time
Crow: And out of luck.
Mike: Is this a story about Dr. Brown's custom plate?
>A Marrissa-verse story,
All: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
> starring Dave Hines
All: AAAAA-
[Pause]
Tom: The hey? Who is *that*?
Crow: I dunno, but he's cutting in on Marrissa's action, so he's pretty
much doomed.
>by Dave Hines
>
[Long long long pause]
Tom: So then - not only is someone writing fanfic based on Marrissa,
but *self-insertion* fanfic based on Marrissa.
Mike: Yep.
Crow: Hold me, Mike. I feel cold - so v-very, v-v-very c-c-c-c-cold!
>Introduction:
>
> Okay, folks. This story isn't going to make much sense
Mike: Well, at least he's up front about it.
> unless you've
>first read "Lines As-Q",
Tom: Why do I get the feeling no amount of advance reading will help
this story make sense?
> my self-insertion story
Tom: [muttering] I'll tell you where you can insert this story.
> where a parallel universe
>"me" is transported by Q to the timeframe of Marrissa Picard and the
>universe created by Stephen Ratliff.
Crow: Oh dear sweet baby Torgo! The man is mad!
Tom: Some people just plain shouldn't be given the power to create
a universe.
> As we left that story, Dave had just
>purchased a civilian model runabout
Mike: From Harry Mudd's used runabout shop, no doubt.
Tom: Unfortunately, it had Firestone Landing Pads, and well...
> and headed off to parts unknown with
>replicated versions of Crow T. Robot, Tom Servo and Gypsy.
Bots: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?
Tom: I - we - they - he - it -
Crow: Boy, when my lawyer gets hold of *THIS*...
> As far as
>continuity is concerned,
Crow: This story has none.
Tom: If you're concerned with Marrissa-verse continuity, seek help.
> this takes place between the two epilogues of
>"Lines As-Q" and concurrently with the events of Anne-Lise Pasch's
>"Generations 2: Generations Ahead" and the early portions of Stephen
>Ratliff's "A Royal Wedding".
Mike: And several hundred years after the action in "The Red Badge
of Courage".
> Until the time in which "Dave Hines" actually
>appears in a Stephen Ratliff-written story, this is considered to be
>"non-canon".
>
Crow: At that time, it will be considered "too scary for words".
>Please send comments to my new e-mail address: bof...@mail.com.
>
Crow: I'm just going to sit quietly and not say anything about that address.
Mike: Well, that's good.
Tom: What a clown this guy is.
Tom: http://i.am/ironman/
Mike: http://i.am/sci.fi/
Crow: http://i.am/sad.strange.little.man/
>Legalities: The majority of the characters and situations in this story are
>the property of Paramount Pictures, Inc.
Crow: Does that mean I'm now Sumner Redstone's pool boy? Yech!
> No harm or dissolution of
>copyright is intended.
>
Tom: That's kind of like trying to dissolve industrial grade titanium with
spit.
>Other characters and situations are
Crow: *Completely* unbelievable, and should not be allowed to exist.
> the property of Stephen B. Ratliff,
>whose cooperation is very much appreciated.
>
Tom: Not to mention greatly feared.
Crow: Great, we're reading the work of a Ratliff *groupie.*
Mike: They prefer the term "Ratliff Enthusiast."
>The Dave Hines character is based loosely on myself, and is thus my
>property.
Tom: Woops! Sorry, Dave, turns out *you're* Paramount property, too.
Get ready to appear on a Very Special Episode of "Voyager", along
with Triple-H and Urkel!
> Nyah.
Crow: Well, at least he's professional about it.
> Those wishing to use this character in a story should
Mike: Wait until they sober up and seriously reconsider it.
>contact me at the e-mail address listed above.
>
Crow: But the warning did no good. Soon, alt.fanifc.davehines was the
most prolific newsgroup on the net.
>Freedom to archive or repost in any non-profit manner is granted, but
>copyright over the story is retained by Dave Hines.
>
Mike: Curse you, Dave Hines! Have you no respect for freedom of the press?
Crow: What about us, Mike?
Tom: Yeah, don't we get any say about our copyrights?
Mike: I don't think you guys own your copyrights.
>========================================
>
>Chapter One:
>
> Some say hell is hot, some say hell is cold.
Tom: Some say hell is in the pot, nine days old.
Mike: Some say hell is listening to two economists argue about
the prime rate for all eternity.
Crow: Still others think hell is being trapped in a Satellite
and forced to watch bad movies. They're probably right.
> Whichever it is, I do
>think hell is humid.
>
Tom: So it's not the hate, it's humidity.
> The young soldier allowed his mind to drift as he stalked through
>the jungle after the enemy soldier.
Crow: It's good he can make time to daydream during his soldiering.
> Perhaps this is how it was meant to be.
Mike: Trapped in the steaming jungle, with Marrissa so close he could
*smell* her.
Crow: Ugh! Thanks for the imagery there, Nelson!
>Neither he nor the enemy had any squadrons, nor was any support inbound
>from any headquarters.
Mike: No phone, no lights, no motorcars. Not a single luxury.
Tom: Like Robinson Ca-rusoe?
Mike: As primitive as can be.
> Seeing a flash of red,
Crow: Wally West, no!
> the soldier fired into the
>brush.
>
Mike: And promptly wiped out the Pomona High Marching Band.
> "Gotcha, Dave!" shouted a mocking voice behind him. Soon, the young
>soldier felt a sharp pain searing through his back.
>
Crow: Maybe there's hope for this story yet.
> "Ow! Servo! You're supposed to give someone an opportunity to
>surrender before you shoot them in the back! Those things hurt!"
>
Crow: Amazing.
Mike: What?
Crow: Even in someone else's sick, demented fantasy, it turns out Tom's
still a jerk.
Tom: Yeah, who'da th- HEY!!!
> "You just want to play paintball the wimpy way, don't you, Hines?"
>Tom Servo responded as he floated down from his perch.
Mike: [sweetly] Aw. It looks like someone's got a little stalker.
Tom: Perch?
Crow: Servo wanna cracker?
Tom: Watch it, you!
> These robots that
>Dave had created were superior to the original models
Crow: [Darkly] Oh, were they now?
Tom: Someone's *really* uppity about their bot-building ability!
Crow: Yeah, I bet he wouldn't last 10 seconds against Joel!
> depicted in an old
>television show.
Mike: "Television show"? What's he talking about?
Tom: It must be that community access special we hosted. The one about
the best ways of making cheese fondues.
Mike: Oh yeah. It must've had a wider audience than I thought.
Crow: Never underestimate the power of cheese, Mike.
> Using 24th century technology, it was child's play to give
>all the 'bots working arms, and to give Servo a working hover system.
>
Tom: Hey, my hoverskit works just fine!
Crow: How's the arms hangin' Tom?
Tom: Shut up, Crow!
Crow: Touchy today, Tom?
Mike: It's okay, Tom. This story would put anyone in a bad mood.
> "Look, I don't think that counted. Do you want me to go over the
>rules again?" Dave countered.
>
Crow: Rule Number One - *never* talk about Paintball Club!
> "I know the rules, and of course it counted!" Just then, a subtle
>tremor went through the room.
>
Tom: Oh, now they're playing Quake!
Mike & Crow: D'OH!!!
> "Hold on, Tom. I didn't program in any seismic activity in this
>simulation. Computer, what was that?"
>
Mike: [Computer] Oh, just your regular, every day starquake. Don't worry
about it.
> The standard model Federation computer for civilian model runabouts,
>nicknamed "Magic Voice" by the ship's occupants
Crow: Poor Magic Voice.
Tom: Yeah, another innocent bystander caught in the line of fire.
Crow: For shame, Dave. [pause] Say, where *is* Magic Voice these days?
Magic Voice: [V.O.] Oh, just waiting for someone to speak to me.
[sniff] Waiting all these lonely days. All alone. Excuse me. [She
begins to cry loudly before exiting the theater.]
Crow: But - but - I didn't -
Tom: Hey, make Gypsy cry and you've got a hat trick.
Crow: Shut up, Servo!
> responded "In response to
>the current attack upon this vessel, the holodeck's inertial dampeners were
>lowered to standard ship's levels."
>
> "Attack?! Why didn't you tell us?!"
>
Crow: [Computer] I wanted it to be a surprise.
> "You did not ask." returned the ever-monotone voice of the computer.
>
Mike: Daria Morgendorffer- ship's computer.
> "Crap! Computer, end program and exit holodeck! C'mon Servo!"
>
Tom: [getting up] Ok... anywhere but this story.
Mike: Sit down, Tom.
Tom: Well, it was worth a try.
> In response to Dave's order, the holodeck returned to its standard
>appearance, that of a small black room with yellow grids on the walls.
Tom: As well as a lovely print of dogs playing poker.
Crow: Interior decorating by the Minneapolis Road Department.
> The
>addition of the small holodeck to the runabout had been expensive, but Dave
>felt he deserved a treat.
Mike: He had rolled over, shook hands, and played dead on command.
Crow: So a holodeck's a "treat", huh? Apparently, Dave's never watched
any actual "Star Trek" in his life.
Tom: Why not just volunteer to carry 50 gallon drums of nitroglycerin?
> As the doors swished open, Dave and Tom Servo
>rushed to the front of the ship.
>
Mike: It must be hard to play "New World Man" while running, huh Tom?
Tom: Laugh it up, dough boy.
>Chapter Two:
>
> "Oh, is that the best you've got?! C'mon ya pansies!" The voice of
>Crow T. Robot rang out as Dave and Tom entered the bridge.
>
Crow: Oh Lord, I hope my voice hasn't changed again.
> "Gypsy?
Tom: And now he's dragging Gyps into it! That's it! Put up your Dukes,
Hines! I'll moiderlize ya!
Crow: I hesitate to point it out, but remember the non-functional limbs
thing?
> Would you mind telling me what's going on?" Dave asked the
>purple robot hooked into the ship's navigational sensors.
>
Mike: [as Gypsy] I think we're screwed.
> "Hi, Dave! This big ship demanded we surrender, and Crow started
>antagonizing them."
>
Tom: So, it's just business as usual with Crow then?
Crow: Hey! Who was it who broadcast a Bronx Cheer on all hailing
frequencies when that Borg Cube appeared?
Tom: Yeah? Who the one who called the Zykonian ambassador, and I quote,
"A Big Bag of Snot"?
Crow: Well, who told the...
Mike: Guys? Later, please?
> "Evasive action, Gypsy!"
>
Mike: And Gypsy began to dodge about the room.
> Gypsy turned back towards Dave. "Brilliant strategy, Sun Tzu! What do
>you think I've been doing?!"
>
Mike: [Dave] It kind of looked like you were dancing "The Cabbage Patch"
while singing "Tangerine Speedo".
Crow: [Gypsy] Well, duh. What do you think evasive maneuvers are?
> Dave did a slight double take at Gypsy as Crow hurled another
>imprecation at the attacking vessel.
>
Crow: Hey, where's his cybernetic Mike at?
Tom: Yeah, how come you escape unscathed here, Nelson?
Mike: [a touch smugly] Just lucky I guess.
> "Sheesh, you guys! Does Starfleet Academy teach people how to aim by
>having them play Whack-A-Mole!?"
>
Crow: Yep. It's part of the carnival section of the training, along
with ring toss, cotton candy eating, and Advanced Tilt-a-Whirl.
> "Starfleet Academy?! Crow, get away from there!"
Tom: And quickly! That game was a total dog! It might corrupt your
hard drive just by being near it!
> Dave lifted the
>golden robot up and away from the communications station to a slight
>protest
Tom: [Crow] Waaah! Put me down! I'm afraid of heights!
> and manned the station himself. "Um, hi. This is Dave Hines of the
>S.O.L. Is there a problem?"
>
Tom: [Ship's commander] No, we just wanted some target practice... you guys
just go on with what you were doing.
> "Civilian Ship Sol," the response came.
Crow: Sol Bernstein? The guy that runs the Deli on 112th?
Mike: From Starfleet's "old Jewish Guys" line of ships.
> Dave hated when people
>confused the name of his ship with the home star of Sector 001. "This is
>Captain Rehtul Naols
Crow: Captain Re-tool Nails?
Tom: I think he means Captain Obvious Anagram.
> of the U.S.S. Neylon!
Mike: Hey, it's Star Fleet #9!
Crow: I know that ship! They starting building it and then left it
sitting alone for 6 months!
> You are hereby ordered to lower
>your shields and head immediately to Deep Space Nine by the authority of
>UFP Temporal Investigations!
Tom: ["Naols"] Your misuse of established characters is a clear violation
of Federation Protocols. I'm going to have to ask you to power down
this story right now.
> Further failure to comply immediately will
>result in your destruction!"
>
Crow: In other words, immediately head to a highly populated area to disrupt
the timeline further. Great idea.
> That was no problem, thought Dave, since he was headed to Deep
>Space Nine anyway.
Mike: Dave's lifelong ambition was to count Ezri's spots, and he was
an optimist.
> For a man out of time, the wormhole inhabited by the
>non-linear "Prophets of Bajor" seemed attractive.
Tom: Almost alluring.
Crow: Plus, it was "Time Travelers Drink Free!" Night at Quark's.
> Bringing the ship up on
>the tactical display revealed it to be a small cutter,
Tom: Billy Barty, M.D.!
> like the kind he had
>heard of being assigned for TI work in his conversations with Martin.
>
Crow: [Martin Lawrence] What up!
Mike: My TI hasn't worked since the early 80's. I sure would like
to play Tunnels of Doom again.
> "No problem! Sorry for the confusion. Gypsy, lower the shields and
>come to the course that the nice man in the destructive ship wants, will
>you?"
>
Bots: Wuss!
> "Dave, you're just no fun at all!" remarked Tom Servo.
>
Tom: Say, he kind of reminds me of someone.
[The bots turn in unison to face Mike.]
Mike: Hey!
> "Remind me to insert some sub-routines in the two of you that
>indicate that self-preservation is a wee bit more important than being
>funny, will you?"
Mike: Ah, a John Belushi sub-routine. Good idea.
> Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Crow: Then his finger entered the ready room of his nose.
Mike: Ewww.
> This promised to be
>a long day.
>
Crow: [radio] And welcome back to our 28-hour Hoyt Axton song marathon!
Tom: A *very* long day.
>Chapter 3:
>
> General Kira Nerys manned the communication station aboard DS9's Ops
>area.
Crow: [Kira] Hmm. I *am* a general. I should probably order someone to
perform these minor tasks for me. I'll think more about it after
I fix coffee for the staff.
> "Civilian Runabout SOL, please land at Docking Pad 3..."
>
> She was interrupted by a chorus of three voices responding from the
>ship, "That's the one with the big 'Three' on it! Ha ha!"
>
Mike: Yes, it's easily found by its pictures of Roosevelt, Churchill,
and Stalin.
> "Um, yes... In any event, Mr. Hines, you will be required to
>deactivate all systems aboard your vessel and deactivate your... automatic
>systems."
Crow: [Kira] Please shut down your heart, your lungs, and your eyeblink
subroutine.
> Kira was not all together sure about those robots the suspect
>had.
Tom: She's in awe from our presence.
Crow: Natch. We're so much cooler than that Data guy.
> The design seemed horrifically inefficient.
Crow: Yeah, who wants a robot with a big gumball machine for a head?
Tom: Or one with a goofy looking beak?
> However, she was more
>concerned about these charges Mr. Hines was being brought up upon. They
>seemed contrary to both Bajoran and Federation law.
>
Crow: Well, the "biting a jawbreaker instead of sucking on it" *was*
legit on Bajor, but everything else...
> "You look like something's on your mind, General." a deep voice
>behind her interrupted her reverie.
>
All: Sean Connery?!?
Tom: He's run out of earth babes to hit on and now he's off to the stars!
> "In your office, Admiral?"
>
Tom: [Sisko] No, it looks like you have something on your mind right
here.
> "You know the drill by now."
>
Crow: [Kira] Yessir! The Craftsman they have on sale at Sears this week with
the extra bit set! You wanted it for your birthday, correct?
> Although Admiral Sisko had claimed that his service as the Emissary
>was finished when he had returned to corporeality, many Bajorans including
>Kira still thought of him in that manner.
Mike: Still many others remembered him fondly as "Hawk".
> In addition, Benjamin had also
>become one of her best friends, which was one of the main reasons the two
>of them had both resisted reassignment despite their advances in rank.
Tom: Besides, running a space station is hard - they really do need an
Admiral and a General to keep it running.
> The
>two entered the office once occupied by the reviled Gul Dukat.
>
Crow: They moved over to stand by the reviled Gul Dukat's coffee maker.
> Kira sat in the chair in front of Sisko's desk and began speaking
>immediately.
Tom: [Kira] Look, how come those weasels on the Enterprise get a
movie deal, but we get bupkus? Come on! I can out-act Gates
any day of the week!
> "Ben, I don't like this.
Mike: [Kira] I've *never* liked this chair! It's too itchy!
> TI has offered no proof of these
>allegations against this Mr. Hines.
Crow: [Kira] And this "Knows all the words to Mambo #5" charge! We haven't
prosecuted anyone for that in centuries!
> I mean, 'Temporal Espionage'?! He was
>transported to this time by Q, not some extraordinarily hypothetical late
>20th century time travel project!"
>
Crow: [Kira] I mean, no one's even *seen* Dean Stockwell in years!
Mike: She must not know about the Logan-Preston project of 1988.
> "I agree with you, Nerys. I'm in the process of filing legal
>protests on Mr. Hines' behalf, but the whole process is being bogged down
>on technicalities of whether or not Mr. Hines is even a Federation citizen!
Crow: I vote no, and that he be executed right now.
>When Captain Clinton and her crew returned,
Tom: [Sisko] They immediately started pestering Keiko for campaign
contributions. It was so embarrassing.
> they at least had been members
>of the military in their time,
Crow: Which is more than her dad could say.
> but Mr. Hines doesn't have that luxury.
Mike: So, only members of the military get Federation citizenship? The
Marrissa-verse is a fun place, isn't it?
Tom: That's no problem, just let him take the Kobyashi Maru test and become
a Starfleet Captain. Then he'll have to be made a citizen.
Mike: Wow, Tom. I think you've actually got this place figured out.
> It
>should all work out, but in the meantime, Odo will handle this all in his
>way."
>
Mike: And Odo's way involved kazoos! And lots of them!
> Kira smiled at the mention of her fiancee.
Crow: Funny, I didn't hear Alexander's name mentioned.
> Even before his brief de
>facto assignment as Alpha Quadrant Ambassador to the former Dominion, he
>hadn't been one to tolerate bureaucrats.
Tom: Now, of course, he just chops them up into tiny cubes and sprinkles
them on his salads.
> His time in the Gamma Quadrant had
>helped to erase the few insecurities he had.
Mike: Well, that and the blankie he now carried everywhere.
> Yes, Odo would handle it.
>
Crow: Al Pacino will handle things ... Odo's Way!
>Chapter Four:
>
> "This is outrageous!
Mike: I'm not gonna pay a lot for this muffler!
> I demand that you beam the prisoner directly
>to the brig!"
>
Tom: [Col. Klink] No vun has effer ezcaped from Deep Space 13!
> Odo glanced back. "You *demand*, Mr. Naols?"
>
Crow: [Odo] Well, if I knew where Mr. Naols was, I might
give him to you.
> "That's Captain Naols!"
>
Crow: [Odo] Whatever. I still don't know where he is.
> "On your own ship, you are the captain, and you will be addressed as
>such. But on this station, Mr. Naols, the fact that you do not hold a rank
>in any military organization confirms your title as Mister."
>
Tom: [Odo] Though if you prefer it, I can call you "Miss Thang".
> "Admiral Sisko ordered that my request be complied with!"
>
Mike: ["Naols"] Plus, he complied that my order be requested!
> "Admiral Sisko is complying with your request. He has some...
>acquaintance with the Office of Temporal Investigations."
>
Crow: [Odo] He knows Phil. You know. From accounting?
> "Then beam the man directly to the brig!"
>
Mike: But The Man is holding them back!
> "However," Odo continued, "despite the fact that we are confining
>Mr. Hines at TI's request, he has not been formally accused of any crime
>that would warrant treatment as a criminal."
Tom: Then why are they even locking him up in the first place?
Crow: Ah, law enforcement agencies are always doing little favors like this
for one another, y'know? "You unlawfully incarcerate my prisoner,
and I'll unlawfully incarcerate yours."
> Seeing that Mr. Naols was
>about to comment, Odo continued. "I shouldn't need to remind you, Mr. Naols
>of the findings reached in 'UFP vs. Berlingoff Rasmussen, Stardate 46172'.
>
Crow: [Odo] Rasmussen won with a ninth-round TKO.
Tom: Uh, didn't he steal random things from the ship to take back to the
past and pretend to invent?
Crow: Apparently, TI didn't think changing the past was important that time.
Mike: And it's not like stealing is a crime or anything.
> "Mr. Hines has not been formally charged with any crime, and he is
>surrendering himself to our custody voluntarily.
Tom: [Odo] Yes, yes. We've already scheduled a mental competence check
for him.
> Although, I would imagine
>that the fact that your ship fired warning shots without communicating with
>the captain of the vessel would warrant some assault charges.
Crow: Or if you're a Klingon, it'll get you a quick promotion.
> Therefore, I
>will at least permit Mr. Hines the dignity of being able to walk to the
>holding cells."
>
Tom: If it was me, I'd beam myself *everywhere*.
Crow: Yeah, walking is so... pedestrian.
> Rehtul Naols was livid.
Mike: Hmm. I have a sneaking suspicion that I've seen this character
before.
Crow: You're probably thinking of Iak Nniw or Lug Takud.
Tom: Yeah, Naols is a completely new character.
> "I will see you before a review board for
>this, Constable!"
>
Crow: ["Naols"] Oh, before you go, can you get rid of this parking
ticket for me?
> Odo smiled at him with tight lips. "I'll be sure to look forward to
>it, Mr. Naols."
>
Tom: [Odo] I love the smell of review boards in the morning. It
smells like ... bureaucracy!
>Chapter Five:
>
> "Look, I'm not sure what they're after. We just don't want any
>trouble."
>
Mike: And suddenly, we're in a police drama.
Crow: Harry Callahan will be busting through that door any second now.
> "Come on, Dave! At least let us come with you! We can be your crack
>legal defense team!"
>
Crow: [Tom] I've seen every Seinfeld episode with Jackie Childs! I'm
sure I can fake it!
> Dave looked at the golden robot, Crow.
Mike: [Dave] Is that a bowling pin...?
Tom: [Crow] No! It's my beak, and I'll ask you not to make fun
of it. I'm very *sniff* sensitive about it... [crying]
> "First off, you have gotten
>us into enough trouble already.
Crow: [Dave] I mean, okay. I haven't blown up any planets yet...
Mike: Hey! I said I was sorry!
> Secondly, DS9 control insisted that I shut
>down 'all mechanical and electronic devices on board'.
Mike: [Hines] And place my tray table and seat back in their upright
position.
> I don't think the
>satellite illusion amused them too much.
Tom: Yeah, but it slew 'em at the Montreal Comedy festival!
Mike: [Dave] And broadcasting "Son in Law" over their shipboard
communications... Well, that was just cruel.
> Unfortunately, 'all mechanical and
>electronic devices' includes you guys."
>
Tom: Typical - no respect.
Crow: Yeah, just like a human. When the bots get too inconvenient, just
toss 'em aside like an old toaster.
Tom: How can you even stand to look at yourself, Nelson?
Mike: So I have to suffer for the sins of Dave Hines?
Crow: You're our vicarious human.
> Dave finished flipping a few switches. "Computer, power down all
>ship's systems except basic life support, Class C."
Tom: Immediately, students with lower grade point averages were asphyxiated.
> The computer emitted
>its standard compliance tone as the ship became dark around them. The three
>'bots remained active.
>
Mike: Drinking Ensure will help you stay active right into your five hundred
fifty's.
> "Trust me, guys. I'll get this squared away, come right back, and
>we'll be off again.
Tom: Just keep telling yourself that.
> It'll just be like you took a short nap or something."
Crow: I wanna finish watching cartoons first!
Tom: Can we have a drink of water first?
Crow: Read us a story!
Tom: Yeah, "Hamster Huey & the Gooey Kablooie"!
>With a heavy heart, Dave continued. "Computer, place Crow T. Robot, Tom
>Servo and Gypsy into sleep mode."
[Tom & Crow start snoring]
> These automatons had been his only
>friends outside of the now-incommunicado Martin Sussex since he had arrived
>in this... dimension, as Dave preferred to think of it.
Crow: Most thought of it as a sound stage.
> Q had seemed to
>infer that this was his future, as was also implied by some of the fanfics
>back in the 20th century, but that whole concept seemed just too bizarre to
>be true.
>
Mike: Not to mention just a little sad.
Tom: But if it *is* true, well then, Sonic should be showing up soon.
> "Computer, open airlock." The ship's door swished open,
Mike: And the ship's atmosphere was sucked out into the airless void.
Crow: [Dave] Whoops! Forgot we weren't docked!
> and one of
>DS9's airlock doors rolled open. At the other side of the airlock stood
>Odo, whom he recognized from television back home,
Tom: Dave's a big Benson fan.
> and the man who had
>commanded the ship which brought them in.
>
Crow: Why's Nick Seafort on DS9?
> "Welcome to DS9, Mr. Hines.
Tom: [Odo] Feel free to bring your 57 varieties with you.
> I apologize for the necessity of having
>to place you in our holding cells. Admiral Sisko is working on making that
>stay as short as possible."
>
Mike: [Odo] He wants your fanfic-writing hinder out of here, toot sweet!
> "Lead on, Constable. Though I don't mind tell you, I spend a lot of
>time in holding cells for a law-abiding citizen."
>
Crow: And that citizen is extremely grateful.
> Mr. Naols spoke up for the first time. "And are you a law-abiding
>citizen, Mr. Hines? Are you really?"
>
Tom: And have you allowed the giks to disassimilate, Mr. Hines? Have you?
> "I think so."
>
Mike: [Dave] I mean, I was drunk *most* of the time, but I don't *think*
I broke any laws. At least not any important ones.
> "We'll see."
>
Crow: Not very sure of himself, is he?
Tom: Let's take five, guys.
[All leave]
O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6]
[SOL - Mike & the bots are on the bridge]
Tom: So this Hines guy is using us as peripheral characters in his little
story, huh? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.
Gypsy: [OS] AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
Mike: I'll take that as one vote for "insulted".
Gypsy: [entering stage left] I am *mortified*! I am *outraged*! *I* *am*
*humiliated*!
Mike: I assume this is about the story, Gyps?
Gypsy: Yes! Crow told me all about it!
[Mike & Tom just look at Crow]
Crow: What?!?
Tom: Crow, do you even know what "tact" and "restraint" mean?
Crow: Yeah. So what's your point?
Mike: [starts to speak, then stops] Never mind. Look, Gyps, I'm really
sorry Dave put you in his story without checking first, but look
on the bright side - at least in his version of the future, you're
still active and functioning 400 years in the future.
Gypsy: *sigh* Yeah, I guess so. [she rests her chin on the console]
Tom: Yeah! I mean, think about it, Gyps! In Dave's world, you'll be able
to see all the wonders of the Star Trek universe!
Crow: Boy! Wouldn't that be something? The entire United Federation of
Planets, just waiting to be explored!
Mike: It's something all right. What's the first thing you'd do, Crow?
Crow: Ummmmmmmmmmm - I'd probably visit Graceland.
Mike: [pause] But we have Graceland here in *our* time.
Crow: Yeah, but I've never been to it.
Mike: O-o-o-okay. Um, what about you, Tom? What would *you* do in the
Star Trek Universe?
Tom: Oh, that's easy. I'd take a flyer out to the Delta Quadrant and hook
up with Voyager.
Crow: Voyager? What in the world for?
Mike: You'd lead the ship back to safety and home, right?
Tom: Yes! Well, no. Well, kinda.
Mike: Meaning?
Tom: Meaning, I'd kick bring it home myself - my way!
Crow: You wanna *steal* Voyager?
Tom: Nah, just re-order it a little. You know, me as Captain, Janeway as
Neelix's junior assistant floor scrubber, Chakotay with the stick
out of his hinder, Naomi Wildman banished to the Wesley Crusher
Memorial Alternate Dimension for Child Prodigies - like that.
Mike: I see.
Crow: Uh-huh.
Tom: And of course I'd - create a couple of new positions. Captain's
woman sort of things, y'know.
Mike: Interesting. Depraved and demeaning but interesting.
Tom: [whispering] Jeri, Roxanne - call me.
Crow: Poor deluded little robot.
Mike: Now me, I think I'd go and visit Sirius.
Tom: Sirius? That's an odd choice.
Crow: Any particular reason for picking Sirius, Mike?
Mike: Well, yeah. I'd like to go into the field of cardiovascular research
there.
Tom: Okaaay, right. Mike, this isn't leading up to some lame joke about
being "Sirius as a Heart Attack", is it?
Mike: [looking deflated] Um, well - no?
Crow: Wrong answer, but thanks for playing.
Gypsy: *sigh*
Crow: What about you, Gyps?
Tom: Yeah, what would *you* do?
Gypsy: Well, I'd *like* to get my own shuttle, the U.S.S. Richard Basehart,
and cruise around sight-seeing. But I can't, because Dave put me
to sleep, then abandoned me.
Mike: Aw, Gypsy. [hugs her]
Gypsy: *You* wouldn't just stick me in sleep mode and leave - would
you, Mike?
Mike: Of course not, Gypsy. [lights flash] We'll be right back.
Tom: What about us, Mike?
Mike: We'll talk.
Crow & Tom: Hmmmm....
[The meatball takes us out to...]
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
bil...@hiwaay.net http://home.hiwaay.net/~billfl
"If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. And if you're smart,
surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you."
Isaac Jaffee (Robert Guillome), "Sports Night"