MiSTing: "Hail to the Queen" [PG, STNG, Marrissa] (1/9]
Matthew R Blackwell
Mystery Science Usenet Theater 3000:
"Hail to the Queen" by Rob Tounts
Based on "The Marrissa Stories" by Stephen B. Ratliff
Misted by Matt Blackwell, Doug Earlham, Michael K. Neylon,
Bill Livingston, Steven Savage
[Note: This takes place just after Episode 822: "Overdrawn at the
Memory Bank"]
[Season 8 Opening.]
[The Bridge of the Satellite of Love is a mess. There are streamers
hung one the walls and balloons are scattered about the Bridge.
Confetti is everywhere. On the far wall is a banner proclaiming "Wrap
Party!" Mike walks in and is startled to see that Cambot is active.]
Mike: Oh, hi everyone. I'm Mike Nelson, and welcome to the
Satellite of Love. Pearl threw a party for us last night
after her successful beg-a-thon, and I'm afraid that
we're still not quite up to speed today. And I'm pretty
sure that Pearl doesn't have anything else to show us
for another few months, but you're welcome to hang around
if you'd like.
[Tom walks on screen, humming a tune.]
Tom: Hi Mike. Have you seen the coffee?
Mike: The hazelnut, the Brazilian, the Vanilla, or the
Mochachino strawberry surprise?
Tom: The motoroil flavored. [Tom walks offscreen.]
Mike: It's in the cupboard by the box of Yummy Mummy.
Tom: [Off screen] Found it!
[Appearing on screen again with a cup of coffee.]
Say, what's Cambot doing on?
Mike: He was on when I came in. Maybe we're doing another
special.
Tom: Another "Little Gold Statue" maybe?
Mike: [Shrugs] Could be.
[Crow walks onscreen. He's wearing an ascot, and a monocle and he's
smoking a cigarette through a long cigarette holder.]
Crow: [Speaking in a fake uppercrust English Accent.] Top of
the morning to you chaps. Smashing party last night. Why,
who would have ever thought that Pearl was such a
talented dancer? And those blasted Mole Men kept droning
on and on and on and on. . .
Mike: Crow, we're on.
Crow: I beg your pardon? Michael, whatever do you mean that
we're. . . [He turns to Cambot.] Yikes! [Normal voice]
Oh, hi everyone! Um, Breasts?
Tom: Busted.
Crow: Knock it off Tom! I'm, uh, getting into character for my
one man play celebrating the life of Noel Coward.
Tom: Suuuure Crow.
Crow: That's it! You're going down Gumball boy!
Mike: Hold it guys. I think an explanation is here. [He hits
the light.] Hello?
[The Studio]
[The scene shifts to the studio where Pearl held her fund-raiser.
Pearl stands uneasily in the middle of the floor, while Bobo ,The
Observer, and Ortega stand in the background looking very glum.]
Pearl: [Monotone] Good Morning fellow employee of Amalgamated
Diversified Compudyne Research, Entertainment and Pets.
And how are you today?
[SoL]
Mike: Pearl, are you okay?
[Studio]
Pearl: Of course, fellow employee. All is well here today. How
is productivity in your area?
[SoL]
Mike: We don't have any products, Pearl.
Tom: Well, I've been selling Magic cards over the Internet.
Does that count?
Mike: No, Tom. What's going on?
[Studio]
Pearl: [Normal voice] All right, I'll come clean. After Clayton
became a space baby, I sold Deep 13 to some investors to
earn money to find you. Well, they're still around, and
it turns out that they own the satellite, the studio,
and even the Widowmaker, lock, stock and barrel. And
they're not too pleased with our ratings.
[A middle aged man clad in a yellow and black checkered sportscoat
appears next to Pearl, flanked by what looks to be a stagehand.]
Herb: Hello, Mr. Nelson. Love your work. It's really funny
stuff. However...
[SoL]
Mike: Hold it. What do you mean? This isn't a show! I'm
trapped up here on a satellite and they've been
torturing me by showing me bad movies! It's not a show!
[Studio]
Pearl: Actually Mike, Clayton put a video camera on board and
sold tapes of the experiments to his fellow scientists
when money ran low. Then Frank would squander the money
on duct tape. [mumbling] That little weasel. [normal
voice] So, there is a show.
Herb: Anyway, it's really funny stuff. But, we're having
problems with the show's demographics. You're not
pulling in the male 18-30 year olds. So, we're going to
have to replace one of you with a new character.
[SoL]
[All aboard are visibly nervous.]
Mike: Replace one of us? Who?
[Studio]
Herb: That purple one, Gypsum.
[SoL]
[Gypsy pushes past Mike]
Gypsy: What?!
[Studio]
Herb: [shrugging] The kids just don't understand her. Besides,
we need some sex appeal for the show, so we've arranged
for you to gain a new companion.
[SoL]
Gypsy: I'm not going anywhere! I run this satellite! Everyone
aboard will die without me being here! Besides, I've
got a contract! Where's my agent?!
[Curtis, the stagehand, appears from off screen.]
Curtis: Come on. Your contract's been picked up by "Jenny."
Gypsy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[Gypsy and Curtis disappear off stage.]
Crow: Well that sucks.
Tom: Hey, we won't work without Gypsy here! We can just wait
this out until she's back here. Well, Mike will die of
asphyxiation in a few hours, but we can wait forever!
[Mike visibly pales.]
[Studio]
Herb: Relax guys. The ship's functions will be taken over by
some good Unionized help. We'll have her replacement
there in a little while.
Pearl: By the way, to celebrate your new shipmate, we've got a
special piece of work for you today. It's a piece of
fan-fiction.
[SoL]
Tom: Uh-oh.
Mike: Stephen Ratliff didn't write this by any chance?
[Studio]
Pearl: No, no.
[SoL]
Mike: Whew.
Crow: Thank goodness.
[Studio]
Pearl: It's called "Hail to the Queen" by Rob Tounts, and it's
actually a fan-fic of a popular series of fan-fiction
stories. [She grins evilly] The Marrissa Stories to be
precise. Enjoy, Michael.
[SoL]
Crow: Marrissa fan-fic fan-fic?
Tom: Oh look, that seventh seal is being broken.
[The lights begin to flash.]
Mike: Too late guys. We've got Marrissa sign!
[The bots race around while Mike hits the lights. The door sequence
begins.]
[6. . . 5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1. . . ]
>--=====================_884558027==_
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
>From: Ron Tonts <rto...@direct.ca>
Tom: Well, my respect for that country just went down the
drain.
Crow: First "Kids in the Hall," now this.
>Subject: NEW Hail to the Queen
Crow: ...not to mention sleet, lightning, sheets of flame from
a clear sky...
> 1/4 [PG] (TNG, Marrissa Stories)
All: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
>Date: Fri, 09 Jan 1998 00:00:00 GMT
Tom: Midnight, the witching hour! BOO-WAH-HAH-HAH-HAHAHAHAHA!!!
>Message-ID: <34B680F9...@direct.ca>
>X-Priority: 3 (Normal)
>Mime-Version: 1.0
Crow: In Mime 1.0, the mime will still occasionally speak.
Tom: They'll fix that feature in 2.0.
>Reply-To: rto...@direct.ca
>Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="------------5A807124EEAB09BA89D59BC5"
Mike: BC5? Isn't that that sci-fi show by that guy who used to
write for "The Real Ghostbusters?"
>Organization: XSM Systems Inc.
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Tom: [Jack Nicholson] I have given a name to my pain...and it
is a.s.c.
>
>
>
>--------------5A807124EEAB09BA89D59BC5
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; x-mac->type="54455854"; x-mac->creator="4D4F5353"
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
>
>
> Star Trek
Mike: Where our motto is "We'll keep this series on the air
until Rick Berman runs it into the ground!"
> Hail to the Queen
Tom: The Queen Latifah Story!
Mike: The Freddie Mercury Story!
Crow: The Majel Barrett Story!
> A Marrissa Story
Crow: I bet she can't sing "Fat Bottom Girls" as good as
Freddie.
> by Rob Tonts
Tom: Didn't the header say that his name was Ron?
Mike: Tom, he knows what his own name is. I hope.
>Disclaimer:
Mike: Gene Roddenberry should not take the blame for this.
> Paramount owns Star Trek. To my knowledge,
>Marrissa and gang are property of Stephen Ratliff,
Mike: I take it Rob has never seen the episode "Disaster".
Tom: Lucky Rob!
> and the story is
>mine. I promise to return the characters in an almost intact >condition.
Tom: Well, okay, my dog chewed Marrissa's head off. Is that a
problem?
> Any mental or
>physical damage sustained from reading, holding, or
>downloading this story, is your own stupid fault.
>
Crow: I hear that was going to be the new disclaimer on the
McDonald's coffee cups, only with "coffee" instead of
"story".
> This Story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places
>and incidents
Tom: Have been changed to protect the galaxy.
> are either a product of the author's
>imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
>actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
>entirely coincidental. Although if there was, I would panic.
>
Crow: You and me both, pal.
> This story is dedicated to the following:
> My Family (because they're my Family)
Crow: Er, does he know he used a capital 'F'?
Tom: Maybe it IS the Freddie Mercury story!
Mike: Uh...oh. Should we be riffing on a story by a made guy?
> and Stephen Ratliff (the inspiration for the story)
[All visibly shiver]
Tom: Shouldn't Satan be on that list too?
> This story is set shortly after the Marrissa story
>Return to Glory. I'm afraid it isn't out yet, but should be
>one day.
[All scream]
Mike: Oh, what I wouldn't give for a good cancel-bot about
now....
Crow: Actually, it takes a little bit of chutzpah to write a
sequel to a story that hasn't happened yet
Tom: Especially a Marrissa story! [shudders]
> This is my FIRST FANFIC!!
All: Uh-oh.
Mike: This is bad.
Tom: If this is a self-insertion fic too. . .
> Comments and Questions
>are welcome.
>Please send them to rto...@direct.ca . In addition, for
>those people over at rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc,
Mike: Huh? Who's he talking about?
Crow: Oh, probably a group of unclean, unshaven college
students hovering about a computer in the basement of
some dorm somewhere.
> this is NOT a
>parody like Borged to Death. I didn't even know about it
>until I read it.
Tom: Well, now you know.
Mike: And knowing is half the battle!
> And if you are going to MiST
>this story, please let me know.
[All smirks]
Crow: Poor, innocent *us*? Nooo....
Tom: Uh-hum.
Mike: What's MiST? That prequel to Riven?
Tom: We'll tell you later.
> I worked very hard on this
>fanfic, so enjoy!
>
Crow: [Falsetto] Eat! Eat! How're you boys gonna keep up your
strength if you don't eat?!?
> Prologue
>
Tom: It was a time of war, it was a time of peace...
>Time: Shortly after Star Trek: First Contact
>
Tom: Riker has been placed in command of the next half-dozen
sequels, Data has been possessed by the katra of John
Adams, and Lily has escaped to HBO and collected several
CableACE awards.
Mike: Nice to know *someone* besides Larry Sanders is!
Crow: Bitter much, Mike?
Mike: Oh, just a tad.
> The scream was heard across the galaxy by the Collective.
Crow: Somewhere, one of the Borg had assimilated the complete
works of Pauly Shore.
> It
>knew at once, their Queen was dead.
Mike: There would be no more Bohemian Rhapsody any more.
Crow: Okay, enough Queen riffs. Agreed?
Mike: Okay.
Tom: Well, I guess. But I had a great riff using "Another One
Bites the Dust" planned.
> The race known across the
>galaxy as the Borg
Mike: I'm sensing a strong "across the galaxy" motif here."
> was thrown into chaos in the span of ten
>minutes.
Mike: There's an implant sale at Bloomingdales!
> This turmoil was started by the only race to repel
>the Borg to this point, the Humans.
Mike: [pointing to his left] First the Tholians repelled them
to that point...
[pointing to his right] then the Ferengi repelled them to
that point...
[pointing straight ahead, at the Borg] and now the Humans
have repelled them to *this* point. Any questions?
Crow: Just forget the sacrifice of Vulcans, Betazoids, and
other members of the Federation.
Tom: Oh, yeah, those Humans are sooooo great . . . oh, sorry
Mike.
Mike: Don't worry about it.
> More specifically, Jean-
>Luc Picard/ Locutus was the one who had removed the Queen from
>her hive.
Tom: Wearing a black veil and spraying in a lot of smoke first,
I'd guess.
> The Borg could sustain itself until a new queen was
>created, but the process took time.
Crow: There were forms to fill out, and the Borg HR department
had budget cutbacks.
>There was only one quick, easy solution,
Tom: They would have to go to Queens.
> assimilation.
Crow: Isn't that Microsoft's job?
Tom: Geez, that's the Borg's answer to everything!
Mike: Well, you have to admit it did work up to now.
> Using
>the all encompassing knowledge of the race, the Collective
>searched through records regarding races from Earth, the
>Delta Quadrant, and anywhere in between.
Crow: Results: "assimilation," 41511 hits; "Federation," 613351
hits; "Marina Sirtis+nude OR naked," 31515782 hits.
> The whole process
>took a mere hour,
Mike: And 45 minutes of that was just trying to connect onto
"Borg On-Line."
> when a candidate was found.
Tom: But before that, the Borg would be forced to endure ten
months of campaigning.
> The irony, the gains, the sheer power that could be gained
>from the assimilation of this one human.
Tom: Anyone else getting a cold, queasy lump right in the
middle of your stomach?
Mike & Crow: Yes.
> The target was
>selected, and seven functional Borg cube ships moved towards
>it.
Tom: Yeah, FULLY-functional Borg cubes, if you know what I
mean!
Mike: Tom is there NOTHING you can't make sound dirty?
Tom: Only 672 things.
Mike: I'd say you're being anal but you'd probably make that
sound dirty too.
> Chapter 1
>
Mike: Call me Ishmael Amber Flores Picard. . .
>Time: After Return to Glory
>
Crow: Not the most exciting sequel ever made, since everyone
died at the end of "Glory," but the studio insisted.
> Cruising along the former Romulan Neutral Zone,
>the fleet led by the Enterprise-F was on simulated night.
Mike: So they had their brights on, and they accidentally
blinded the planet of Argus V.
> They
>were escorting a convoy of twenty Romulan Warbirds through
>Federation space to the point where they could go it alone.
All: o/~ We've got a great big convoy, traveling through
the night... o/~
Mike: Hey, wait a minute! This is the plot for 'Battlestar
Galactica!'
Tom: Great, now we remember Battlestar Galactica! We could have
used those riffs in 'Space Mutiny!'
> The
>Enterprise-F was top-of-the-line quality in all fields
>imaginable.
Mike: It took them 5 tries to get it, but, mind you, it was
top-of-the-line!
Crow: Scrimshaw?
Mike: Yep.
Tom: Web page design?
Mike: Yep.
Crow: Slugging averages?
Mike: Yep.
Tom: Singing the blues?
Mike: Yep.
> The ship was undeniably effective in both war and
>peace time.
Crow: Since the latter only lasted about five minutes when it
was around, no one was truly sure.
> Systems on board were like muscles of a finely
>toned athlete.
Crow: They were filled with steroids.
> In comfort, the mile-long craft was unsurpassed.
Tom: I have this horrible, horrible feeling that any second
now, Richard Simmons and Kathie Lee Gifford are going to
show up.
> Yet,
>not even the ocean soundtrack,
Mike: The Enterprise has a SOUNDTRACK? Of the Ocean?
Tom: After all these years, that Celine Dion song is *still*
on top of the charts?!
All: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> soothing temperature-controlled
>pillow, or silky blankets could hold off what was coming.
Tom: The entire ship is coated in silky blankets?
Crow: Maybe there won't be the usual level of Marrissa-
intensive violence.
> "WWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,
>WAH WAH WAH WAH!"
Tom: SAILOR MOON, NO!
Crow: But enough about Hanson...
> pierced the simulated night of the Quarters.
>Admiral Marrissa Amber Flores Picard of the Starship
>Enterprise-F,
Tom: ...Once and Future King...
> heir to the throne of Essex,
Crow: Keeper of the Sacred Rings of Betazed...
Mike: ...holder of the sacred chalice of Riix...
>and former Commander in Chief of the Kids Crews,
Mike: CEO of General Motors...
Crow: Queen of the Silver Dollar...
Tom: Owner of the largest ball of twine in Minnesota...
Mike: I'll say this, Tonts knows his source material.
> stumbled from
>her bed to answer the call of the only being that had any
>true power over her.
Mike: Stephen Ratliff?
Tom: No, Mike, even Ratliff cannot control the force that *is*
Marrissa anymore.
> Sarah Alara Picard, her baby girl.
Tom: First name after Fergie, middle name after the elf NPC
Stephen had a crush on in his junior high D&D campaign.
Crow: I notice the kid doesn't get Jay's last name.
Mike: Are you really surprised?
Crow: Well, no.
> The crib was set up as a partial bio-bed that allowed the
>parent to discern why the baby was malcontent.
Tom: Specifically, it emitted a high-pitched "WHAAAAAAAH!!"
noise.
Mike: "Malcontent?" So she's unhappy with the Federation
government?
Crow: Don't forget, Lwaxanna Troi's running it now.
> This particular
>case was because the baby was hungry.
Mike: Uh, oh.. I don't like the way this is going...
>It missed its evening feeding due to a Romulan skirmish that
>Marrissa had effortlessly beaten down.
Crow: Like her husband Jay.
> The baby began to
>suckle its mothers bosom,
All: ARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGH!!! [All make retching noises]
Tom: This is the *LAST* thing I needed to see!
Mike: I think I'm going to be sick!!
Crow: Should I go get the milk of magnesium ?
Tom: AARRRRGGGGH!!!!
> just as a computer began to
>signal an incoming message. With a sigh, Marrissa made her
>way to the terminal holding the child,
Crow: The terminal is holding the child, and Marrissa is
nursing it but she has to walk over to it? Either that
kid has long lips, or...
Mike: For the love of Pete, stop right there.
> and answered the call.
Mike: If she left the video on, someone's gonna get a surprise.
Crow: Let's hope that's not Cal on the screen, else, calcium.
Tom & Mike: ARRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!
> "Attention all starships.",
Mike: [Picard] I regret to report--YAUUGH!! Marrissa, for God's
sake, cover yourself!
> Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard's
>visage appeared on the screen.
Crow: I mean, it's not like I'm milking this for all it's
worth...
[Tom is visibly shivering on his seat]
Mike: Crow, that's enough for now...
> "A colony on the outskirts of
>the Federation was destroyed this morning.
Crow: Suddenly, a bare chested Riker pops up besides Picard,
with "Soy Bomb" painted on his pallid, doughy torso,
and begins gyrating suggestively.
Mike: Well, thanks for permanently putting me off my feed,
Crow.
Crow: Any time, Mike.
> All indications
>point to a Borg ship.
Mike: Since there aren't any other known murderous simple
geometric shapes.
Crow: Plus they spray painted "Borg Roolz!" on the colony
walls.
> Please route any ships available to
>Earth.
Tom: [Picard] Your assignment: evacuate the Picard family wine
cellar.
> I will lead the assault personally.
Crow: No ship, no space suit, no nothin' - just Jean-Luc and a
slingshot.
Mike: [Picard] I have just been handed a correction. I will
lead the assault with the aid of a starship and fifteen
hundred crewmen.
> Starfleet out."
Tom: So, Harry Kim sent the message?
> The terminal turned off, as Marrissa let out a sigh.
Crow: [Marrissa] I guess it's up to little ol' me to save the
day again...
> Her fleet
>was capable of taking on even the strongest renegade Romulan
>attacks. But such an attack seemed like less of a worry.
>After the Romulan attack on the Sol System, and the conquering
>of the Romulan Empire,
Tom: ... Life just didn't seem to be interesting, so she took
her own.
> the Romulans began to run low on
>warbirds.
Mike: Too bad the Romulans didn't have access to "Voyager
Shuttlecraft" technology.
Crow: Yeah, then they'd be up to their prominent eyebrows in
warbirds!
> Having the Warbirds allowed as home defence, resulted
>in tight registration and tracking procedures, which cut off
>renegade Romulan resources.
Crow: So there's a five-day waiting period before buying a
warbird now?
Mike: Remember, when warbirds are outlawed, only outlaws will
have warbirds!
Tom: [Charlton Heston] Join the National Warbird Association
today.
> The Romulans still needed to be
>escorted back home.
Tom: So Marrissa's running an escort service now?
Mike: You know, your head just twists right off, Tom.
Tom: Okay, okay, it was just a joke! Sheesh!
> As a result, about five of her ships, including the
>Enterprise could make the battle. She got on the comm and
>called the Captain of the Elizabeth,
Tom: Montgomery?
Mike: Hurley?
Crow: Shue?
> one of the two new
>Sovereign class vessels that arrived the previous day.
Crow: Well, someone's literal-minded. I suppose the other one
is the "Mary" or the "Victoria" or something?
Tom: Just once I'd like to see a ship named after Mad King
Ludwig.
> "I have
>received a message from Starfleet command.
Crow: [Marrissa] From now on we are to be known as the
"Dil-rats." What the--?!
> We are to proceed
>to Earth in order to stop the Borg." The same order went out
>to the Captain of the Nelson.
Crow: It was named after some clod who manned a space station
and watched movies.
Mike: Watch it.
> Marrissa selected the two final
>candidates for the fleet.
Tom: Yeah, but then the USS Perot entered the race...
> The Defiant class Henson,
All: [snort in amused disbelief]
Mike: [Link Hogthrob] First Mate Piggy, what do the sensors
say, hmmm?
Tom: [Miss Piggy] Hm? Oh, I'm sorry, I was just admiring my
reflection in these readouts. What did you say?
Crow: [Julius Strangepork] I'm detecting an inappropriate
reference to port,Captain.
> and the
>Nebula class Merrimac.
Tom: Where they continued to *monitor* the situation!
> The Defiant class had been mass
>produced as of late, and it didn't need to worry about lack
>of comfort for personnel.
Mike: Yep, it's war, but at least we've got our Playstations.
> This was thanks to the mass production of neural nets
Mike: All their tuna is brain-cell safe
> by
>SoongCorp, run by Data,
Tom: So, it's an information based corporation then?
> located on Omicron Theta. After being
>promoted from First Officer of the Enterprise- E, Data
>commanded the USS Andromeda on several exploration missions in
>the remainder of the Alpha Quadrant.
Mike: ...what was left of it after Berman got through, anyway.
> He was credited with
>discovering and inducting five new species into the
>Federation.
Crow: All of which he'd invented himself.
Tom: SoongCorp, when you need a new species overnight.
> After this mission, Data was promoted to
>Admiral and placed in command of Developing Technology.
Mike: Looks like the same guy names their departments that
names their starships.
Tom: [George Takei] This is Lieutenant Sulu, of the Driving the
Ship department.
Crow: [James Doohan] I'm Commander Scott, of the Fixing Stuff
department.
Mike: [Marina Sirtis] Counselor Troi, of the Showing Cleavage
department.
>After spending a year behind the desk, Data began to feel
>trapped in a dull
All: Fanfic?
> role.
Tom: He longed to reprise his role on Night Court and asked to
be killed in the next movie.
> Even after his withdrawal from
>Starfleet, Data was still bombarded by despondent emotions.
Crow: Including an as-yet-unexplained obsession with Angora.
>The feelings propelled him to return to Omicron Theta, his
>birthplace.
Crow: Data's going to spawn?
Tom: I certainly hope not! We've already seen the spawn of
Marrissa, and that's all *I* need to see today!
> Searching through the equipment left behind, Data found
Tom: Another brother, Hearsay. Or so I'm told, anyway.
> records on the creation of his neural net.
Crow: The original CFV for alt.fan.pale.androids.
> Recalling one of his father's wishes,
Mike: ...he finally got around to mowing the lawn.
> Data requested
>a grant from Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard to follow his newly
>chosen path.
Tom: [Picard] I agree you should be free to pursue your dreams,
Data, but is "Second star to the left and straight on 'til
morning" really practical?
> This path was one his father had wished, and yet
>still followed his Prime Directive, to aid and make life
>better for sentinent life forms.
Mike: Yet all his attempts on Marrissa's life had failed.
> Using himself, his brother
>Lore, and his failed experiments with Lal as prototypes, Data
>built replicas of the neural net that was used as a brain.
Mike: So a third of the technology is based on an unsuccessful
model, while another third is based on a murderously
psychopathic model?
Tom: If I didn't know better, I'd think Data was suffering
aftereffects of Ratliff Gas exposure.
> These electronic brains were attached to anything with
>computers, allowing them to think on their own.
Tom: I seem to remember them rejecting the idea of a whole race
of Datas on the grounds that robots shouldn't be slaves.
Crow: Something I heartily agree with, by the way...*Mike*.
Mike: Well, invent a self-cleaning load pan bay and we'll talk.
> In the
>Twenty-fourth century, almost everything has a computer
>attached to it.
Tom: Which gave a whole new sense of adventure to the use of
prophylactic devices.
> From farming machinery, to starships.
Tom: Boy, this mall's got everything.
> The nets
>could also be attached to service robots that could be used
>to operate a ship.
Mike: Now, who would be stupid enough to put a robot in charge
of a ship?
[pause]
Tom: No slamming old sleepy eyes, Mike.
Mike: Oh. Sorry.
Crow: She's gone! And we'll never see her again!
WAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Mike: There, there. I'm sure that we'll see her everytime
"Jenny" comes on.
Tom: So, we might see her two or three times again?
> These new robots could be put on
>less-than-plum assignments,
Mike: Prunes, for example.
> such as the mothballable Defiant
>fleet, and older, less reliable ships.
Tom & Crow: Booo!
> This group could be
>active in war, and inactive in peace
Mike: And semi-active in the hearts of its countrymen.
> without protest, since
>modifications in their neural nets prevented emotions and
>ambitions.
Tom: If they wanted people without emotions and ambitions, they
should have just hired someone from a temp agency.
Mike: Keep it up and you'll never see a RAM chip again.
> In addition, each Defiant had a senior staff of
>members of the Humanoid races, since this bond between
>Organics and Machines increased efficiency.
Crow: [snort] For the Organics, maybe.
Tom: Ha! The Federation'll show those Borg - they'll assimilate
themselves first!
> Data was
>attempting to build androids to aid humanity, but to date all
>his attempts failed.
Mike: WE DON'T CARE. SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
Tom: Has anyone even *thought* of going back to Mudd's Planet
and seeing what makes *those* androids tick?
Mike: They can't risk unleashing the Stellas on the galaxy.
Crow: [Stella Mudd] You lazy good for nothing-
Mike & Tom: SHUT UP!!
Crow: [fading] thing- thing- thing-
> Feeling the baby stop nursing,
Tom: Bored to sleep by the backstory.
> Marrissa put Sarah back
>in the crib. Being unable to sleep, Marrissa went to the
>computer and called up a history of all the Borg battles
>fought.
Mike: Search - FLEET BORG BUTTS WHUPPED.
Crow: [as Marrissa] Gee, no wonder we always lost! These
Captains never had a 21 minute Kobiyasi Maru time!
> Staying up for two hours devising tactics to use
>against the Collective,
Tom: Well, if you can call playing "Borg" deep planning.
> her power to stay awake dropped like
>bricks on Jupiter.
Crow: Through clouds of hydrogen?
> Staggering back to bed, Marrissa prepared
>herself for the next day and the upcoming battle.
>
Tom: Sacrificing virgins, performing dark rituals, the usual.
> The following morning, the Earth Defence fleet had gathered
>into position in the middle of the Borg Cube's path.
Mike: Why not? Let's make it easy on the Borg!
> Fleet
>Admiral Jean-Luc Picard sat in the command chair of the
>Sovereign class vessel, USS James T Kirk.
[Quickfire...]
Tom: With separable "Toupee" section!
Crow: And extra "below deck" capacity!
Mike: Plays "Rocket Man" 24 hours a day!
Tom: But, wait! There's more!
Crow: It comes with the fantastic "Stutter" warp drive!
Mike: The entire TekWar library at your fingertips!
Tom: Now how much will you pay!?
> So much like the
>Enterprise-E, he couldn't help think.
Mike: Help think what?
Crow: I guess he's no longer a casual thinker, he's addicted.
> The entire fleet
>represented the indomitable willpower of the Federation,
Tom: Is this the same indomitable willpower that wimps out at
any application of the Prime Directive?
> consisting
>of some of the more advanced starships of the time. Composed
>of Five Sovereign class Battleships, seven Ambassador class
>Cruisers, a Galaxy class ship,
Mike: Ooooh...I bet the Borg are just quaking in their cubicles
over that one.
> five Nebula class Cruisers, the
>Nova class Enterprise,
Crow: Insert standard "exploding star" joke here.
Tom: Insert standard "it doesn't go" joke here.
Mike: Insert standard anti-Chevy joke here.
Crow & Tom: Huh?
Mike: Sorry, sorry. [clutches head] I'm turning into my Ford-
drivin' friends from high school.
> and the main body of the force was the
>twelve Defiant class Destroyers(sans cloak).
Tom: Why would the Federation build something to destroy their
own ships?
[Mike whispers in his dome]
Tom: Oh. Never mind.
Crow: This is the trekkie equivalent of guys who love to
discuss gun types and bullet sizes, isn't it?
>The Federation fleet waited, until a large object entered
>their sensor range.
Crow: [Picard] Open fire! No, wait...it's just Shatner's ego.
> It came in without fear, like a grim
>spectre of death.
Mike: Now would this be the likable if morose Death of Terry
Pratchett?
Tom: How about the petite, attractive Death of Neil Gaiman's
Sandman?
Crow: Guys, it's the grim spectre of death of mediocre
writing, get over it.
> The Borg opened the battle, not with cutting lasers or
>tractor beams, not even the customary "Resistance is Futile"
>speech, but instead scanning each of the fleet ships. The
>vessel moved against the two targets first, the Kirk, and the
>Nova class Enterprise.
Crow: Having detected a major character on at least one.
>The battle commenced, with the Federation gaining an advantage
>almost immediately.
Tom: Just trust us on this one.
Crow: Well, he's got the gist of the Ratliffian battle scenes
at least.
>"Launch all fighters" Marrissa called.
Mike: The Federation fighter program's motto: "If one really
big phaser blast won't get through their shields, maybe a
bunch of tiny ones will do something."
> Responding to the order,
>a squadron of Essex class fighters streaked from the Fighter
>Bay.
Crow: Essex class. Named after a backwards quasi-medieval
planet. Wonderful.
Mike: Quick! Fire your crossbows at the Borg and ready your
mace launchers!
> Swarming around the cube, the fighters fired phasers and
>mini-torpedoes. The results of the efforts were small pocks
>and scars across the hull.
Mike: Sounds like a bad case of acne.
Tom: Oxycute them!
> Determined to put more than the
>minor dents in the hull, the Capital ships opened fire.
Mike: USS Newt Gingrich, fire!
Tom: USS Strom Thurmond, this is USS Ted Kennedy, I'm sinking
fast!
Crow: Oh no! USS Dick Armey & USS Dick Gephardt have started
firing on each other!
> "This is the Kirk,
Tom: [Nomad] I am the creator. The Borg are imperfect. They
must be sterilized.
> to all ships. Target the following
>coordinates." ordered Jean-Luc Picard.
Tom: It may be better to target a ship.
> The Federation ships
>lanced out with phasers and Quantum torpedoes, while fighters
>from the Enterprise ran interference. Despite the severe
>beating the cube took, it only attacked the Kirk and the
>Enterprise, soon just ignoring the Kirk.
Mike: Just like the Grammys. When will the Transformed Man get
the respect that it deserves?
Crow: Quiet Mike.
Tom: I'm sure that the rest of the Federation wishes they could
ignore Kirk.
Crow: [Shatner] Look, I'm dead again! Now I'm alive again! Now
I'm dead again! Huzzah!
>The Enterprise took the shots, and lost its shields in the
>process.
Crow: Hey, is this an actual battle scene?
Mike: I think so.
Tom: Well, it can't be a Ratliff story, then.
Mike: It's *not* a Ratliff story - it's just an incredible
simulation.
> The Borg began beaming into locations throughout the
>Enterprise; Engineering, the fighter bay, and the Bridge.
>Five Borg appeared on the Bridge.
Crow: They've assimilated the Jacksons!
Mike: Well, at least Michael's skin won't get any paler.
> Putting into practice the
>security measures, Marrissa had devised, she ducked out of her
>seat,
Mike: Ah, our fearless captain shows her true colors!
> reaching for something under the cushion.
Mike: It's where she stores her used Juicy Fruit for safe
keeping.
Crow: [Marrissa] Ooh! A quarter! Now I can pay the security
staff this week!
Tom: If relying on your captain to duck and reach under her
hemorrhoid ring is a security plan, I'm not impressed.
>Hand secured around the object,
Tom: Oh! It must be her life vest!
Crow: [Marrissa] Woman and children first! And since I'm both
of those, CLEAR THE WAY!
> Marrissa blasted the first one
>she could, using the phaser rifle that was stored under her
>seat.
Mike: I see that Marrissa has been preparing 'just in case'
someone disobeys her.
> Five more appeared and were blasted again by Marrissa,
>Jay, and Shayna.
Crow: Leaving the first four that Marrissa ignored, of course.
> Compartments such as the one under the
>cushion of the Command chair,
Crow: Which, of course, could also be used as a floatation
device...
Tom: Commas such as this one, were scattered randomly through
the sentences.
> were placed throughout the bridge.
Mike: So... there were random cushions placed about the bridge?
Crow: Apparently so, Mike. But most of the Bridge crew had
filled the compartments underneath with liquor.
Tom: What type?
Crow: Er, blue.
> Another wave of the drones appeared on the bridge.
[Mike enthusiastically waves at the screen.]
>Keeping with the training on fighting the Borg everyone
>received, they believed the phasers were useless.
Mike: And if they aren't, that training stank.
> The blank >minded drones
Crow: I know Bertie Wooster isn't very bright, but isn't that a
little harsh?
> moved up closer to use their nanite injectors,
>and were met with clubs in the form of phaser rifles.
Tom: Looks like the Borg forgot that solid matter setting
again.
>Marrissa took a mighty swing with the butt of her rifle,
Tom: But there was no joy in Muddville that day ... the mighty
Marrissa had struck out.
> that
>shattered the back of the unfortunate drones skull.
Mike: Fortunately, the Borg had video taped the entire thing.
Tom: Unfortunately, Marrissa's trial took place in Simi Valley,
Essex.
Crow: "Can't we all just get along?" the Borg drone later
asked.
> Another
>Borg was stumbling up behind Marrissa,
Tom: [singing] Stumblin' in...
> and on instinct she
>turned and fired the phaser into the cybernetic zombie.
>None of the expected defence shields popped up to intercept
>the angry red beam of energy, and the victim was vaporised in
>a flare.
Tom: [Borg drone] Strategy is irrelevant.
Crow: Looks like common sense is irrelevant too.
> Other bridge members noticed
Tom: [monotonous] Oh, look, we're in the middle of a battle.
> and resumed firing the
>weapons into the vessels of the Collective.
Mike: [snorts] They're shooting out the windows at the Borg
ships? I think this is a new low...
> The Kirk
>manoeuvred into a better firing position,
Tom: [as Shatner] Must get...to...executive...producer!
> as Admiral Picard
>listened to the Borg collective.
Crow: The Borg collective is not in right now. If you leave
your name and number, we will assimilate you at your
convenience.
> The weak areas were
>highlighted in his mind, with one point over all.
Crow: [Picard] It all hinges on tapioca. I have no idea why.
> The massive cube grabbed hold of the Enterprise,
>and was about to begin the assimilation. The plans were
>terminated when the cube burst into a ball of fire and
>debris.
Crow: Oops. The Borg must have assimilated Ted Kazinsky.
> Thanks to the Kirk's Quantum torpedo that struck home.
Crow: Not to mention.
Mike: All of those.
Tom: Random sentence fragments.
>The remaining drones aboard the Enterprise were slowly but
>surely eliminated by the angry red phaser beams.
Crow: Unfortunately, they were stopped by the cheerful yellow
shields, and everyone was slaughtered by the melancholy
gray drones.
Mike: *Angry* phaser beams?
Tom: Sure, Mike! And happy phaser beams are the ones that will
give you a back rub and a soothing foot massage before
they vaporize you.
> The Borg had lost the battle, but at the same
>time, had come closer to winning the war. The cube had
>accomplished its job, diverting the Federation from the
>neutral zone long enough for the six vessels to sneak into
>Romulan territory.
Mike: Since we all know that the Romulans never watch their
borders, after all.
Crow: Too bad there's no sort of *sensor* that could detect
ships...some sort of *sensor* would come in handy
here, huh?
> Head Preador Stovin
Crow: So what, exactly, is a "Preador"?
Tom: I think it's one of those other guys in a bullfight -
y'know, matador, preador, stevedore.
> watched in terror from
>the Command centre.
Mike: [Stovin] Oh no! I'm a male Romulan in a Kids Crew story!
I'm dooooooomed!
Crow: Centre?
Tom: Canadian author.
Crow: Ah.
> After the Federation had taken over, they
>had allowed a number of Warbirds to be kept as a Defence
>fleet. This way they could defend Romulus without diverting
>any Federation craft. No one could have predicted how soon
>they would be needed to fill that role.
Tom: Yeah, the role of "target."
> Romulan Warbirds swarmed over the cubes,
Crow: They've got discontinued Beanie babies on those warbirds!
Get them!
> as they moved >relentlessly towards Romulus. As if swatting flies,
All: RAAAAAAID!!!!!
> the Borg tractor
>beams swung out grabbing Warbirds.
> Instead of slicing them into a ring of debris, the Borg
>pulled the ships onto their surface. The whole Warbird armada
>was stuck to the cubes like flies to flypaper.
Crow: What's with all the insect references?
Mike: [giggling] If I could, I'd just squash this fanfic flat.
Tom: [giggling as well] I'm just bugged out by the whole thing.
Crow: Ha-ha, very funny.
> The now >undefended world of Romulus then prepared itself for the
>horrors of assimilation.
Tom: [as Borg] You will like Kenny G. Resistance is futile!
>Yet, the only other notice that the Borg took of the planet,
>was launching an Electromagnetic pulse at the surface, sending
>all the electronic equipment off line.
Mike: And with all the electronic equipment knocked out, the
entire Romulan Empire was left without access to reruns
of CBS's Friday night Block Party.
> After a day or so, the Warbirds removed themselves >from the cubes and merged together.
Crow: Wow. The action.
Mike: The tension.
Tom: The brevity.
> The Borg were once again
>with seven ships.
Crow: Soooo, this is Snow Marrissa and the Seven Borg Cubes?
> Their business with Romulus complete, the
>seven ships used their newly acquired technology to cloak and
>move off towards the Federation Border.
Mike: Er, haven't the Borg assimilated all sorts of stuff
anyway? I mean, you think they'd have a Cloak.
Crow: Maybe they needed to assimilate the "ON" switch.
Tom: Y'know, if they'd just thought to bring two more ships,
they could merge into one real big cube.