MiSTed Who-Trek 1
Currie1501
For all the people who hate crossovers...
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(8th season open)
(SoL. The steering column is out, and Gypsy is at the helm. Tom is at a
computer console slightly to Gypsy's left. Crow is seated in a swivel
behind Gypsy. All of them have little headphones on, and uniforms that
look like they were stolen from Seaquest. Cambot is watching this scene
in front and to the left of Gypsy, the same view that they used for the
first steering-wheel scene.)
CROW: Ensign Gypsy, are we holding a steady course to Robotrout-193?
GYPSY: Yes, Captain. We have a predicted arrival time of approximately 3
days.
CROW: First Mate Servo, any new messages from the High Command?
TOM: Nope.
CROW: Ah. Gypsy, what is our ETA for landing?
GYPSY: Three days. Remember?
CROW:I mean our *exact* ETA. We need to keep a tight schedule aboard my
starship.
GYPSY: Our exact schedule is three days. 72 hours on the money.
CROW: Fine. Mr. Servo, any new messages at all?
TOM(irritated): You just asked me.
CROW(sharply): I won't have insubordination on board my starship! Answer
me, or it's off to the brig with you!
TOM: No.
CROW: All right then.
TOM(muttering):...rassafrackin' good-for-nothing son of a-
CROW: What did you say?
TOM: Nothing, Captain Robot.
CROW: That's better. Gypsy, keep us on course.
GYPSY: We are 100% on course, Captain. Just like we were a few minutes
ago.
CROW: Have you smoothed out any glitches in the course?
GYPSY: There weren't any to begin with.
CROW: Perfect. Mr. Servo, are there-
TOM(very irritated):NO! There are NOT any MESSAGES from the HIGH COMMAND!
JUST like there weren't any the LAST time, or the time before THAT, or at
ANY TIME during the last EIGHT WEEKS! It is MORE than LIKELY that the
HIGH COMMAND has RETIRED and FORGOT US and our MISSION COMPLETELY, CAPTAIN
ROBOT, SIR!
CROW: I was only asking...
TOM: You've been driving us INSANE ever since we left S-1138! (high whiny
voice)Gypsy, are we still on course? Servo, are there any new messages?
Gypsy, have you corrected anything in the course? Servo, can you make me
another cup of coffee? (normal voice) For the *last* time, nothing is
different!
CROW: I'm cutting your caffeine rations.
TOM(calming down): Yeah...that probably is a good idea.
GYPSY: If you guys are bored, why don't you do what I do?
TOM & CROW: What?
GYPSY: Just imagine yourself on a sandy beach...
TOM: Okay. Oooh, this is comforting.
GYPSY: Cool waves lapping around your feet...
CROW: Wow, it's like a dream.
GYPSY: Now relax and close your eyes.
TOM & CROW: Ahhhhhhhh...
(Tom & Crow lean back and appear to go to sleep.)
GYPSY: Comforted by the soft touch of Richard Basehart.
TOM & CROW: AAAACCCKKKK!! (Tom & Crow jerk upright)
TOM: That's sick! That's just *sick!*
CROW: Ugghhh, I can still feel it...
TOM: That was really creepy.
GYPSY: Well, it works for me.
CROW: I'm gonna shower until I've washed away that icky,
touched-by-Richard-Basehart feeling.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
We here at MTV wish to apologize for the revival of "Unplugged" music. We
realize now that modern bands rely heavily on electronics to improve their
voices, instruments, and everything else. In fact, we did it just to
spite the Chemical Brothers. They looked so pathetic out there, making
little clicks on their powerless synthesizers, that we realized how much
damage we've caused to other bands just to embarass the Chemical Brothers,
to the point where the Spice Girls were led off the stage in tears.
Actually, the Spice Girls crying pitifully led to our highest ratings boom
in recorded history. What was the topic again?
==========================================================
(SoL bridge. It's the same layout as before the commercial break.)
CROW: I assume everything's fine, right?
TOM: Yep.
GYPSY: All okay.
TOM: Except of course, that tiny little problem we always have.
CROW: Yeah, we should do something about that once we reach Robotrout.
TOM: I still think we should do something now.
(Mike enters.)
MIKE: Hey guys, what's with the stolen Seaquest uniforms?
CROW: I'll have you know this is the formal dress uniform of the Zambonian
Star Command!
MIKE: So, why are you guys wearing it?
CROW: That sure is one steel-trap mind you have there, Mike. We are now
members of a giant real-life enactment of a classic space strategy game,
wherein multiple players control battleships and use them to discover new
star systems, attack unfriendly systems, destroy trade routes, and in most
cases, explode during heated space battles.
TOM: Our side is losing badly.
CROW: Put a damper on that mutinous, demoralizing talk!
TOM: Well, it does seem to be going badly, since we are the only known
Zambonian ship left in the galaxy.
CROW: Not for long. We can attack a planet and build a shipyard, simple
as that.
MIKE(changing subject rather sloppily):What does that console mean, Tom?
TOM: Well, see this little blue triangle here? With the line pointing
towards that circle? That's us.
MIKE: Neat.
TOM: Now, do you see all those orange triangles with their lines pointed
at us? Those are the Intestinoids. All of those ships are of the class
Battlestar Laxative, the highest class of Intestinoid ships.
MIKE: Really?
TOM: Now, do you see the circle that we're pointing to? Do you notice
that it is the same color as the Intestinoids? And has several ships
flying around it? That's Robotrout-193, which our High Commander
instructed us to colonize. Of course that was long before the
Intestinoids got to it in their much faster ships. In fact, we were the
first ship made by the capital planet.
MIKE: That's an interesting distinction.
TOM: To whom? The last message we received from High Command was eight
weeks ago, and I can't find any planets that belong to us anymore. Or any
ships. We've taken so long to get to the planet, our entire civilization
has been wiped out. Our ancient culture has been annihilated. Anything
we hold familiar has been callously destroyed by countless spaceborne
engines of destruction.
MIKE: Wow. That sucks.
TOM: Eloquently put.
MIKE: How long until those intestine things reach us?
TOM: Not very long at all. In fact, I would just give up all hope and
whimper like a pathetic baby.
CROW: Well, I enjoyed commanding you guys. Except for when Tom pitched
that fit. And the whole Richard Basehart touching me thing.
MIKE: Can we reason with them?
TOM: Probably not, since they're all bloodthirsty marauders with only
death on their minds.
MIKE: Darn. Well, I guess we die.
CROW: Yeah. Shame.
GYPSY: Goodbye, Richard Basehart.
TOM: Oh, look. The Van Light. Sigh.
(Mike hits Van Light moroseley.)
(Space Van. Pearl is wearing a bright orange shirt. So are Bobo,
Observer, and several large men in the back.)
PEARL: Foolish Zambonians, you dare oppose us?
(SoL)
CROW(bitterly): I should've known that you had befriended such hideous
fiends. Have you no soul?
(Van)
PEARL: No, I had my soul removed. It kept giving me this weird sensation
of guilt. Well, your post today is-
(SoL)
MIKE: Post??
CROW: Enemy battle cruisers are rapidly closing in around us and you want
us to watch a post???
(Van)
PEARL: Notice that I ordered the ships to hold their positions while I
torment you mercilessly. It's one of the advantages to not having a soul.
But why am I getting sidetracked? I should be sending you these Dr.
Who/Star Trek fanfics. Hop in that police box and jumpstart the TARDIS,
boys!
(SoL)
MIKE: Soul removal...hmm...Do you think I could endure more movies if I
was missing a soul?
CROW: Well, since the directors of Manos and the Hands of Fate obviously
had nothing like a soul, which is deduced by their decision to inflict
Torgo upon the innocent public, and they were able to create Manos, I'd
say you'd have a pretty good chance.
TOM: We could have them all removed.
GYPSY: Yeah, it'd be a Collective Soul removal! Ha-ha!
(Gypsy is the only one laughing.)
TOM: That was really bad, Gypsy.
CROW: There's no time for humor in a time like this.
GYPSY: So I guess when you guys were doing that skit, it was also "a time
like this".
MIKE: Ouch.
CROW: You just say that again, baby, and I will *flame* *your* *world.*
(Fanfic Sign)
MIKE: Well, we should hold the flame wars off till later, cause we got
FANFIC SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGNNNNNNN!!!!!
(6...5...4...3...2...1...Theatre)
CROW: I mean it. I'm a veteran of many vicious flame wars.
MIKE: Hush.
>From:
TOM: The darkest, most evil pits of Usenet.
> ro...@galcon.ersys.edmonton.ab.ca (root of galcon)
MIKE: Weed-B-Dead goes straight for the root of the galcon, making sure it
never grows back.
>Newsgroups: alt.drwho.creative,alt.startrek.creative
CROW: alt.make.the.crossovers.stop
>Subject: Doctor Who and the Next Generation Enterprise
TOM: The new generation of Enterprises, right off the showroom floor!
>Message-ID: <FXo56B...@galcon.ersys.edmonton.ab.ca>
>Date: Sat, 03 Jul 93 14:18:26 MDT
>Organization: The Gallifrey Connection.
MIKE: Sounds like a spy movie.
>Lines: 155
>Xref: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu alt.drwho.creative:55
>alt.startrek.creative:6315
>
>
>
>
CROW:Oh look, it must be over. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm
heading back.
MIKE: Oh, no you don't. We're going to die painfully together.
>The Enterprise 1701-D was returning from a mission
>heading towards Deep Space
>ce
>9.
TOM: Huh? The paragraphs are going wiggy.
>
>Captain's Log Stardate 397865.2 : We are on our way to
>DS9 and Bejar,
>where we hope we can get a good rest.
CROW(as Picard): And go to the new strip bar on the Promenade.
>I look forward to meeting Commander
>Sisko about his progress report
CROW(as Picard): Hello, Ben, may I see your progress-
MIKE(as Sisko): Get away from me, you wife-murdering Borg scum.
> and
>our old Transport chief Miles O'Brien.
TOM(as O'Brien): I'm married now, Jean-Luc. It's over between us.
>
>
>Mission: TO deliver supplies for Bejor
MIKE: Bejar, Bejor, pick a misspelling of Bajor and stick with it!
>
and the Station. >Suddenly,
TOM: Susan.
>
>" Sir" said the yellow-eyed android Data " There is a
>Blue Box-like object
>f
>off the Stern
CROW: The Howard Stern Show: The Next Degeneration.
MIKE(as Howard Stern): Hey, Klingon babe, take that leather thing off.
> and could be deemed a navigation hazard"
>
>"Attention Shuttle Bay 1", ordered the bald-headed Picard
TOM: We all know he's bald, why did you have to rub it in?
>"Standby to
>e
>recieve an unidentified object".
MIKE: Picard has the ball-his receiver is wide open-and Wesley Crusher
crashes through and slams into Picard for the sack!
>
>On board the Box, which turns out to be a Gallifreyan
>TARDIS,
CROW: Which everyone has a perfect knowledge of, and there is absolutely
no need to explain the slightest thing.
> a middle
>aged gentleman and a young lady attempt repairs.
>
>"Ace", said a TimeLord known as the Doctor, "Please hand
>me my wrench."
>"Sonic or plum-"
MIKE(as Doctor): Ooh, we have plums? I love plums. Do you have
strawberries as well?
>Suddenly the TARDIS is pulled in by the Enterprise and
>the crews of both
>ships are about to go into adventures unknown.
TOM: Excellent foreshadowing.
>
>As the tractor beams lock on to the TARDIS it is abruptly >shaken up and
CROW: Smashed mercilessly.
>the Doctor and Ace are thrown into the corner along with
>the tools and
>the Hatstand.
MIKE: Hatstand?
TOM: What, are you assuming that time-travelers don't have hats?
>
>In unison both Ace and the Doctor say "What have you done >now?"
>
CROW(muted trumpet noise): Wah-wah-wah-wahhhhh...
MIKE: Do I need to mention how great slapstick comedy is in fanfics?
>The Doctor realizing that the problem is caused by an
>outside force
>uprights himself and goes to the control panel and
>switched the view
>screen on while Ace cleans up the mess.
TOM(as Doctor): All right, Caroline in the City is on!
>
>"Ace", says the Doctor," I believe that we are being
>drawn into that vessel!"
>
>"Data, do you have any idea on what that is" inquires
>Picard
MIKE: I'm just curious. What tense was that sentence in?
>
>"Sir it appears to be an old London police box...
>currious sir
CROW(singing): Currious George, the currious little monkey
> there
>appears to be two humanoid life forms aboard..."
TOM(as Data):Gilligan and the Skipper.
>
>"Captin" interupts Lt. Worf "this 'Police Box" shows
>power reading off our
>scales with no detectable form of power generation"
>
>"Sir" Data interupts again "there is no obvious form of >propulsion for
it
>to be this far away from earth.
MIKE(as Data): Except for that outboard motor.
> The
'Police box' seems
>to be equiped with
>equipment that is far superior to ours
CROW(as Picard): Oh, they must have the options package.
>
yet it is so small
>how can it contain
>both two live humans and all the equipment for them to be
>this far from
>Earth"
>
TOM(as Data): My emotion chip appears to be damaging my ability to make
punctuation so my sentences must go on and on and on and on please help me
I can't stop
>Commander La Forge report to Shuttle bay one with a
>complete diagnostic
>team"
MIKE: Who said that?
>
>"I've been monitoring this communications Commander and
>I'm on my way there
>allready - La Forge out"
>
>"Worf, Data, Troy, and ensign Crusher you're with me!"
MIKE: Who keeps saying this?
CROW: I think it's Riker.
MIKE: Then why is Riker taking Wesley?
TOM: They're going to hurl him out onto the floor and let him take all the
phaser fire.
>
>"I'm going with you No.1 - I'm currious about this
>mystery myself!"
CROW: Okay, that might be Picard.
>
>Shuttle bay one of a Galaxy Class Star ship is a large
>cavenous affair,
TOM: Filled with bats and the skeletons of coal miners.
>The Gleaming white pannels of the walls decorated with >freindly
Greetings
>in all the major languages of the galaxy.
MIKE: Despite the many anti-graffiti signs also posted on the gleaming
white panels.
>
Picard and his
>team postioned
>themselves behind the tractor beam generator,
CROW: Whimpering in fear.
>
their
>breathable atmosphere
>protected by the same technology.
TOM:I didn't ask for a technical FAQ.
MIKE: Right. You asked for a chocolate sundae and Cindy Crawford.
>
As the rainbows of
>force dragged the
>blue object into the entrance of the bay, it dissapeared.
>The diagnsostic
>team were alarmed to hear a strange wheezing and groaning >sound behind
>them.
CROW: Wesley was sneaking a cigarette.
>They turned round to see the blue box meterialising out
>of thin air.
>No burst of transporter energy, it simply faded into
>existance. As its
>occupants emerged the main power of the starship ceased.
MIKE(as Picard): Oh, perfect. The power's out, just when are guests
arrive.
CROW: Actually, he should probably worry about how the life support
systems are doing.
>
>Meanwhile a large saucer like vessel is traveling at what >Starfleet
would call
>Warp 9.8 just beyond the enterprises sensor range.
TOM: Apparently, someone tipped off E.T. about the speed trap, and he's
using a radar detector to keep out of trouble.
>
The
>control room of which
>is large and dark. The many surfaces appear to be made
>from brushed steel.
CROW: Except for the table, which appeared to be a finely combed aluminum.
>The room is occupied by several humanoid figures.
>Standing at over 2 metres
>tall
MIKE(announcer voice): And weighing in at 200 pounds, in this corner...
> the cybemen are lagre cybernetic beings.
TOM(singing): Cyberman, cyberman, does whatever a cyber can...
>
Most of
>their augmentation is
>hidden in a casing made of a metal harder than steel, but
>which moves like
>silver cotton. Each is supported by its life support
>unit,
CROW:But robots don't need life support.
MIKE: Hush, We aren't supposed to notice.
> starting at their
>chests and ending in a large solid collar. Unlike their
>ancestors, the
>grill on their chest
TOM: Is a Japanese hibachi.
> is protected against any
accidental
>missiles, but they
>remain suceptable to one weakness.
CROW: Chocolate fudge with little bits of whipped cream.
>
Gold dust.
>
>One cyberman stands in the centre of the room, his
>superiority denoted
>by the black markings on his helmet.
MIKE: So, if I were a cyberman and I wanted to be leader, all I would need
to do is use a black magic marker on my helmet?
>
He speaks,
>"Report!"
>
TOM: How I Spent My Summer In alt.startrek.creative.
>"We are outrunning the cube like object. The scanners
>have locked on to
>the federation ship. A time lord is abord."
>"We must not allow this mothership to be captured by the
>Borg.
CROW(as superior cyberman): It's a rental, and I have to get it back to
the Alamo by noon tomorrow.
> They will
>use our knowledge and technology to delete the cyberrace
>from existance.
>Our purpose is to protect the cyber race"
MIKE(as superior cyberman): For truth, justice, and the Cyberman way....
>"Do you have any data on the Time Lord"
>"It is the Doctor"
>"Excellent.
ALL(Bill & Ted): Excellent!
> It is logical that we help the humans
>against the Borg. They
>will help us."
>"Data shows that humans will act against the cyber race.
CROW: What's Data doing there?
>We shoud destroy
>them, or allow them to join us."
TOM: If they want to destroy you, why would they want to join you?
>"But if the humans have to fight the Borg, it is logical
>that they will
>not fight us. He shall re assess the logic if the borg
>is destroyed."
MIKE(as cyberman): It is not logical to illogically use logic to re-asess
logical illogical logicalities.
CROW: These aren't cybermen! These are Vulcans in tinfoil!
>"If the Doctor and the Humans cannot destroy the Borg
>with our help, it
>is logical we must self destruct."
>"Excellent"
TOM(as angry cyberman): I don't see what's so blasted excellent about
self-destruction. Come to think of it, it's not that logical, either.
Why are you superior, anyway?
MIKE:(as superior cyberman): Because I have all the black magic markers.
>
>"Greetings. I'm the Doctor, and this is my Friend Ace.
>My other friend
>Bernice is following."
CROW: He pretty much has his own harem in there, doesn't he?
>"Apologies for the hostile action, you were causing us a >problem." Said
>Picard.
>"Apology accepted. The old girl isn't quite herself,
TOM(as Ace): Hey!
MIKE(as Dr.): I was talking about the TARDIS, Ace.
>
it
>makes a change
>for her to be a navigation hazard for someone else."
>"Where are we Doctor?" asked Ace.
>Geordi didnt wait for permission,
CROW: He took some of Picard's special brownies.
MIKE(as Picard): Who had my brownies?
TOM(as LaForge with mouth full): Imf donf knowmf.
>
"This is the Federation
>galaxy class
>starship USS enterprise NCC 1701-D."
>Troi took this as an opportunity to ask some questions,
CROW(as Troi):Where were you on the night of June 14th?
>"You're not as human
>as you appear to be Doctor. And you have quite a strong >mental
presence."
TOM: Those weren't questions, those were direct statements!
MIKE: Easy, Tom.
>"Yes." Replied the doctor, rather abruptly. "Perhaps we
>could contine
>this little chat in more comfortable surroundings.
CROW(as Dr.): Wanna come up to my place?
TOM(as Troi): Well...
MIKE(as Riker): No. She doesn't. C'mon honey, let's head back.
>
I'm
>sure your tecnicians
>would like to take a look around my craft." The Doctor
>turned to the
>Engineer and the Student.
CROW: The Engineer and the Student, sequel to the Captain and the Doctor,
and the newest Ratliff romance!
TOM: Don't even joke about that.
> "Bernice will
help you."
>
>The Doctor and Ace were enjoying the hospitality of
>Captain Picard.
MIKE: Not a word, Crow.
>Meanwhile Data and the first officer discussed their
>presence.
CROW(as Data): I got a Micro Machines set for Christmas.
TOM(as Riker): Presence, Data, not presents.
>"Having had chance to analyse their actions, I found
>something odd about
>their voice patterns."
>"Odd?"
MIKE(as Data): They don't have any. They communicate completely by armpit
farts.
>"Their Accents.
CROW: Data sees accents as a series of ones and zeroes.
> The accents correspond to certain
areas
>of Britain,
>but also to the 20th century."
TOM: Couldn't they have come from certain areas of 20th century Britain?
>"Can you be sure?"
>"In extreme cases someone may have perpetuated thier
>family accent,
>but would still sound mostly like the broad European
>Accent of Captain
>Picard."
CROW(as Riker): But they don't sound anything like Picard.
MIKE(as Data): Oh, just forget it.
>The conversation was interupted by the Klingon Security >Officer.
TOM: Wouldn't it be easier to just say Worf?
>"Sir- Our far ranging sensors are picking up an object."
>"On screen" ordered Captain Picard, coming on
CROW: To Ace.
MIKE(as Picard): I could have Whoopi Goldberg order up some drinks, and we
could discuss more without the Doc here...
TOM(as Doctor): Back off, buddy, she's with me.
>
bridge
>with The Doctor and
>Ace.
>The long dark object was of unknown origin.
>"Hmm!" thought the Doctor "Looks like a Cybership".
CROW(as Picard): What was that, Doctor?
>Worf further reported that the Enterprise was being
>hailed.
>The Silver casing of the Cyberleader appered. "Greeting >Federation
>Starship.
MIKE: Why yes, you are.
> I am the Cyberleader. I wish to consult with
>your leader."
>"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise. >Please state
>the purpose of this communications".
TOM(as Cyberleader): Are you my Psychic Friend?
>
>
>
>ro...@galcon.ersys.edmonton.ab.ca (root of galcon)
>galcon - The Gallifrey Connection 1-403-473-7263
MIKE: 1-800-94-Jenny
>rading all ftp sites in existence
>
CROW: Crushing and pillaging File Transfer Protocol sites since 1993!
>
>
>
>
TOM: Are we done?
MIKE: I'm not sure...
>==============
CROW: What's with the pier?
MIKE: It's a seperation of stories.
TOM: Darn. Here comes another one.
>
>
>From
>netcom.com!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!igl
>ou!iglou.com!scarfman
>Thu Sep 5 20:40:31 1996
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
CROW: I have nightmares about that name alone.
>Path:
>netcom.com!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!igl
>ou!iglou.com!scarfman
TOM: Hey, we've seen that before!
MIKE: Maybe Cambot's rewinding.
>From: scar...@iglou.com (Paul Gadzikowski)
>Subject: vig: Ill Met
CROW: What?
MIKE: I think I'll just give up and go insane right now.
>X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou1
>Message-ID: <Dx0pH...@iglou.com>
>Sender: ne...@iglou.com (News Administrator)
>Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456)
>X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL2]
>Date: Sat, 31 Aug 1996 19:44:08 GMT
>Lines: 45
>
TOM: It's short, at least.
>If a prose treatment of a teleplay is a novelization, a >prose treatment
of
>a four-panel comic strip is a vignettization.
MIKE: Whatever you say. I'm just going to go nuts.
>
>*****
CROW: An eyebrow!
>*Captain's Log, Stardate 6990.7: Spock and I are on
TOM: Cocaine.
>Reston IV,
>tracking down the source of Starfleet material that's
>been appearing on
>the black market lately.*
>
>After a week of intensive effort, Kirk and Spock found >themselves
MIKE: And let their inner child free.
>staked out for two days in an alley across the street
>from a Reston IV
>spaceport junk dealer. Spock opened his
TOM: Wallet and gave Kirk his weekly allowance.
MIKE(as Spock): You get an extra five dollars for mowing the lawn on Zabar
8.
>
tricorder when
>their suspect
>appeared striding down the street. He casually stopped at
>the junk shop,
CROW: Casually shooting a man in a casual manner.
>standing close enough for conversation to a known
>recipient of the stolen
>goods - just as Kirk had anticipated.
MIKE(as Kirk): See that? Pay up sucker!
TOM(as Spock): Stupid gambling addiction...
>"Commander Blasingstoke is is meeting with the Coridan
>pirate," Spock
>said, his tricorder recording the suspects' conversation.
>"In a few
>minutes we should have the evidence we need."
TOM(as Spock): We'd also like a urine sample, but there's no way I'm going
to carry *that* around with me.
>Kirk nodded. Then: "Wait... Two humans are walking up to >them."
>They were an oddly dressed couple,
MIKE: Yeah, those giant chicken heads and evening gowns are so last-year.
>
a man and a girl. The
>girl seemed
>to be dressed for a historical pageant - her clothes were
>two or three
>centuries out of fashion.
MIKE: That's actually the definition for disco.
CROW: Disco outfits?
MIKE: Disco in general.
> The man's outfit
was so
>mismatched as to defy
>concise description,
TOM: And several laws of physics.
> but its most eccentric element
was a
>long,
>multi-colored scarf, so long that both ends dragged on
>the ground.
>Kirk had never seen the man before ... but he had the
>nagging
>feeling,
MIKE(as nagging feeling): Get a decent job! Stand up straight! Stop
hanging around with that drunken Scotsman in the engine room, he's a bad
influence!
> as the pair walked up to Blasingstoke and the
>Coridan, that he
>knew the girl from somewhere. Unfortunately they were
>facing away from the
>alley, and he couldn't see her face. Just something in
>the way she moved,
>the way she spread her fingers wide when she gesticulated
CROW: The way she said, "Hi Kirk! How's it going?
>...
>"Captain," said Spock suddenly, "I believe the girl is
>Sarah Jane
>Smith."
TOM(as Spock):...Lisa Joanne Bob Susan Mary Ted Jennifer...
>Kirk looked again. The hair color was right, though it
>was longer
>than it had been when he'd last met her. Her build was
>Sarah Jane Smith's.
MIKE(as Kirk): The way she designed that cantilever balcony...Yes! It is
Sarah Jane Smith's!
TOM(as Spock):...Lisa Joanne Bob Susan Mary Ted Jennifer...
MIKE: Don't wear out the joke.
>"I think you're right, Spock."
CROW(singing): You may be right, I may be crazy...
>"Logic therefore suggests," Spock continued, as the
>concept of Time
>Lord regeneration pushed its way to the fore in Kirk's
>mind,
MIKE: Shoving the dirty fantsies roughly aside.
> "that the man
>is -"
>"Oh, no," Kirk said softly. "Oh, no."
CROW: You know, this might have been more interesting if we knew what the
heck the concept of Time Lord regeneration *and* who Sarah Jane Smith-
TOM(interrupting):-Lisa Joanne Bob Susan Mary Ted Jennifer...
CROW: Will you *quit* that?
>
>
>
>
>Paul Gadzikowski,
TOM:-Lisa Joanne Bob Susan Mary Ted Jennifer...
MIKE: Tom, I swear, I'll turn on the Parental Controls on AOL if you try
that again.
> scar...@iglou.com
>
>You know it's an adventure when later you say to
>yourself,
>"I wish I'd seen the look on my face."
CROW: I just wish I'd seen the terror in my eyes.
MIKE: C'mon guys, let's go.
(1...2...3...4...5...6...Bridge.)
CROW: We're done for!
TOM: Even if the Who-Treks don't get us, the huge fleet of vicious deadly
Battlestar Laxatives will move in for the kill!
MIKE: Our life will end painfully and quickly!
GYPSY: Are you guys really worried by this?
TOM: YES! We are VERY worried about our imminent deaths!
GYPSY: You should learn to accept your deaths, like me.
CROW: Well, Sally Struthers doesn't offer a correspondence course on the
acceptance of your painful demise, so we never really got a chance to get
ready.
GYPSY: Here, I'll help you. Now, on three, you must accept that in the
great scheme of things, your lifespan is nothing compared to the life of
truly important things such as civilization, life, and the planets on
which we stand. Then, accepting the fact that your deaths will not impact
in any significant way on the goings-on of the Universe will come easy,
and you can decide which TV shows to watch before you pass away.
MIKE: Well, if you say so...
GYPSY: On three. Ready? 1...2...3! Make peace with yourselves!
(Suddenly, everyone is relaxed and calm.)
CROW: I see now that the Universe won't be changed by my absence.
TOM: I feel contented. I have no fear of death.
MIKE: Yes. There is only my quiet destiny.
GYPSY: Isn't that nice? Oh, by the way, there's supposed to be another
Dr. Who/Star Trek crossover story on the way.
MIKE, TOM & CROW: AAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!! THE REST OF OUR SHORT LIVES WILL BE
FILLED WITH HIDEOUS PAIN AND AGONIZING TERROR!!! AAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!!
(Mike, Tom, and Crow dash offscreen screaming in horror. Gypsy stares
after them.)
GYPSY: Gosh, maybe they should try therapy.
__________________________________________________________
TUNE IN TO EPISODE TWO, WHERE WE MIST THE VOYAGER EPIC, WHEN TWO WORLDS
MEET, PART 1: THE BAEDEKER OF TIME!
WHY AM I SHOUTING SO MUCH? THIS STUPID CAPS LOCK KEY IS STUCK OR
SOMETHING. C'MON YOU LITTLE ah that's much better. Anyway, look for
episode two.