MiSTed - "Royal & Prime Directives" (Marrissa Stories) 1/8
Bill Livingston
[SATELLITE OF LOVE - Mike is on the bridge, reading a copy of "Us"
Magazine with Jennifer Lopez on the cover (which is to say pretty much
any copy of "Us" Magazine). He is surrounded by Crow, Tom and Gypsy]
CROW: Please?
MIKE: No.
TOM: Please?
MIKE: No.
GYPSY: Pretty please?
MIKE: No. [looks up] Oh, hi all. Mike Nelson up here on the Satellite
of Love...
CROW: Yeah, Mike "Spoilsport" Nelson!
TOM: Mike "Stodgy Old Fart" Nelson!
GYPSY: Mike "Michael" Nelson!
MIKE: Look, I - huh? Well, never mind. Anyway, we all stayed up to watch
a movie marathon last night, and now the bots are being obsessive.
CROW: We're not obsessive, Mike, we just want to celebrate a little!
MIKE: I just don't think it'd be appropriate.
TOM: Oh, *now* he's worried about propriety!
CROW: C'mon, Nelson, it'll be a blast!
GYPSY: Yeah, let our funny flag fly high!
MIKE: I'd just feel - I dunno, kinda odd about it, is all!
CROW: Oh come on, where's that zany, fun-loving Mike Nelson who used to
hang out here, huh?
MIKE: [Wavering] Well-l-l-l...
GYPSY: Do it for Otis Driftwood!
MIKE: Otis Driftwood?
TOM: Do it for Dr. Hugo Z. Hackenbush!
MIKE: For Dr. Hackenbush.
CROW: Do it, Mike! Do it - for Captain Geoffrey T. Spaulding!
MIKE: [stands to attention] For CAPTAIN SPAULDING! Yes! Okay, I'll,
I'll do it, then!
CROW: That's the spirit, Mike!
GYPSY: Yeah!
TOM: Let's go!
[All sprint off. Then Mike returns.]
MIKE: Hello, we must be going. But we'll be right back. [taps light]
COMMERCIALS
1) Steven Spielberg presents "Taken" - over and over and over...
2) Bowflex - because who *doesn't* want to spend an obscene amount of money
on useless exercise equipment?
3) Use 1-800-CALL-ATT or we keep Carrot Top on the air! And don't think we
won't, cuz we will if you make us!
[SOL - The crew is now in high spirits (mostly). Mike's dressed in a long
swallowtail coat, with a pair of bushy eyebrows, glasses, a greasepaint
mustache and brandishing a huge cigar. Tom is all decked out in a tweed
jacket and a small, oddly-shaped hat. Gypsy sports a bright yellow-
orangish fright wig and battered top hat, with what looks like a bicycle
horn in her mouth. Crow is - well, Crow. And he's not happy about it.
For the balance of this host seg, Mike speaks with a Groucho Marx-like
voice, and Servo uses an exaggerated Italian accent, a la Chico Marx]
MIKE: So how much do you charge for not playing *and* not rehearsing?
TOM: Ah, you couldn't afford it.
GYPSY: *honk*
CROW: [shaking head] I still think I was robbed.
MIKE: Nonsense, my good man. We drew straws, fair and square. It's not
my fault you can't draw - even if you *are* fairly square.
CROW: It's still not - I mean, it was *my* idea in the first place!
MIKE: Look, it's all right here in the contract.
TOM: Hey, whatsa that clause right there?
MIKE: This part is the part that says you gotta be in your right mind to
do this. It's called the sanity clause.
TOM: The what?
MIKE: Oh, I shoulda stayed away from that one, I can see right now.
[Lights flash]
CROW: Uh-oh, brace yourselves, guys! It's Flywheel, Shyster & Flywheel.
MIKE: And two hard-boiled eggs.
GYPSY: *honk*
MIKE: Make that three hard-boiled eggs.
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Hello, Mike, I - [pause] What in the...
[SOL]
MIKE: Ah, Mrs. Rittenhouse! Say the secret woid and a duck'll fly down
and give you $50.
TOM: Yeah, but vhy a duck?
[CF]
PEARL: Huh? Listen, what're you clowns up to...
[SOL]
CROW: Oh, hi Pearl. It's kinda...
TOM: Sorry, lady, you can't come in unless you givea da password.
MIKE: Say, what *is* the password?
TOM: Aw, no! You gotta tell me. Hey, I tell you what I do. I give you
three guesses. It's the name of a fish.
MIKE: Is it Poil?
TOM: Ha-ha. That's-a no fish.
MIKE: She isn't? Well, she drinks like one
GYPSY: *honk*
[CF]
PEARL: Okay, what's the gag here? Art! Tell me what's going on!
[SOL]
CROW: Well, y'see...
MIKE: Art? Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is
water! And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries
and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than
rhubarb does.
CROW: Um, can you give us a second here, Rufus?
MIKE: Hpmh - I've got a good mind to join a club and beat you over the head
with it.
CROW: Right. Basically, what's happened is we had a little Marx Brothers
Film Festival last night, so we decided to indulge ourselves a bit.
We all drew straws, so Mike is Groucho, Tom's Chico and Gypsy's
Harpo. And I - uh - I'm Zeppo.
[CF - Pearl has been joined by Observer and Bobo]
OBSERVER: Well, at least you're not Gummo. *snicker*
BOBO: Oh, I like gummo. Especially Juicy Fruit. It's just so...
PEARL: Pipe down, youse two! So, unauthorized film activity, eh?!? That
is *completely* unacceptable! Nelson, I demand that you...
[SOL]
MIKE: Ah, Poil! Can't you see what I'm trying to say, I love you! Meet me
tonight under the moon! Just think, when the moon is sneaking around
the clouds, I'll be sneaking around you! I can see it now - you and
the moon! You wear a necktie so I'll know it's you!
[Crow suddenly runs past, chased by Gypsy honking frantically]
CROW: AAAAH!! GYSPY, CUT IT OUT!
GYPSY: *honk**honk**honk**honk**honk*
[Both zoom offstage]
MIKE: That's the first time I ever saw a taxi chase a passenger.
[CF]
PEARL: Look, you cretins, I - Ooh! [stomps foot]
BOBO: Hey, I saw this on Turner Classics last night! It was funny!
PEARL: Shut up, monkey business! This is *not* funny!
OBSERVER: Let me try to reason with them, Madam. *ahem* Greetings,
gentlemen, I....
[SOL]
TOM: Hey, don't I know-a you?
[CF]
OBSERVER: Well, of course, I'm the Observer.
[SOL]
TOM: Nah, that ain't it. Hey, I got it! You're Brainy the fish guy!
You remember him, right?
GYPSY: *honk*
[CF]
OBSERVER: I most certainly am not! I am the nigh-omnipotent, nigh-
omniscient Observer, before whom you are all as amoebas!
BOBO: Amoebae.
OBSERVER: Whatever!
[SOL]
TOM: Nah nah, I remember you now - Brainy da fish guy. You used to
sell fish down at-a da pier.
GYPSY: *honk*
[CF]
OBSERVER: I did no such thing! I am - okay, one time, but...
[SOL]
TOM: Ay, I knew it, huh? You're Brainy da Fish Guy!
GYPSY: *honk*
[Tom prances about chanting "Brainy the Fish Guy" as Gypsy honks]
[CF]
OBSERVER: Now see here! I - you - oh dear.
PEARL: Okay, that's it, Nelstaff! I try and I try to make your existence
as dreary and unbearable as possible, and *this* is the thanks I get!
It's my own fault, I suppose - I simply haven't tried everything to
suck as much of the fun out of your lives as I can. Booboo - hand
me to it.
BOBO: Yes, Lawgiver. [hands Pearl a zip disk initialed "R&PD"]
PEARL: I was hoping to save this for a special occasion, but I think
you need to see it now. Do you know what this is?
[SOL]
CROW: Hmmm - "Rich & Poor Derivatives"?
MIKE: "Ritzy & Pretty Dames"?
TOM: Nah, datsa no good. It stands for "Left Handed Moths".
[Pause]
MIKE: Y'know, you've got the brain of a 4-year old boy, and I bet he
was glad to get rid of it.
[CF]
PEARL: [exasperated] No, you stale animal crackers! It's the latest
Marrissa story from none other than Stephen Ratliff!
[ SOL ]
MIKE: You expect that to frighten me? A man who's licked his weight in
wild caterpillars?
[ CF ]
PEARL: Look, can it, capisce?!? This story's called "Royal and Prime
Directives", and it has about as much to do with Star Trek as coat
hangers and JuJuBees!
BOBO: Oh, but there's lots of royalty in it, though.
PEARL: [smiles evilly] That's right - lots and lots and *lots* of
Royalty! So eat it, ya lousy Marxists!
[SOL]
MIKE: Ratliff, eh? This is an outrage! Jameson, take a letter to my
lawyers - Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga & McCormick!
CROW: [writing] Right. Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga & McCormick.
MIKE: You let out a Hungadunga. The most important one, too.
[Lights flash]
TOM: Hey, never mind that now, boss! We gotsa da MOVIE SIGN!!!
[Gypsy continues honking furiously as chaos, doors, etc. ensues]
[6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O
[All enter - and are back to their normal voices]
TOM: Welp, Too bad our little psycho-drama didn't protect us from
Pearlikins.
MIKE: [removing Tom's little hat] Yeah, but at least we had our fun.
CROW: Easy for you to say, Nelson - next time, *you* get to be Zeppo!
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-02!supernews.com!
CROW: Faster than a speeding flamewar!
MIKE: More powerful than a FAQmaster!
TOM: Able to leap huge binaries in a single bound!
> newsfeed.direct.ca!look.ca!
>newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newsmaster1.prod.
>itd.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen...@crosswinds.net>
TOM: Crosswinds, huh? That's nice, I guess, but... *sniff*
MIKE: Tom?
TOM: Sorry. *sniff* I just kinda miss the old Radford domain.
MIKE: You sentimentalist, you.
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives
MIKE: Crown Royale and Prime Rib? Now *there's* a directive I can go for!
> (Marrissa Stories) 0/16
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>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
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CROW: Heeey, it's gonna be a *short* Marrissa story!
TOM: Yeah, *that'll* be the day!
>Date: Tue, 04 Dec 2001 02:47:28 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.80.217.245
>X-Complaints-To: ab...@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1007434048 216.80.217.245
>(Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:28 PST)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:28 PST
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
TOM: And just in case you missed it - EarthLink.
>X-Received-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:22 PST (newsmaster1.prod.
>itd.earthlink.net)
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:155263
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
TOM: In England they call it a Royale Prime with...
MIKE: I think we've done that joke to death by now.
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 1/16 Serialized Weekly
CROW: And satirized weakly.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: [Marrissa] Hey, what's the deal, bub? *I'm* the only royal in
*this* Starfleet!
>Author's Notes:
>
CROW: [Stephen] Stop at dry cleaners. Call Susie for lunch. Set out
fresh Alpo for Scooter.
>It's been a while since I've had something new to post here.
TOM: All good things...
> My muse has
>been a little more rare since I got a job.
>
MIKE: [Stephen] The well-done ones gave me big time heartburn!
>The story you are about to read was orginally started in 1995.
TOM: "Orginally". 15 lines. Who wins the pool?
MIKE: [checking something] Hold on... Magic Voice.
MAGIC VOICE: Boo-yah!
> It's gone
>through many changes, since that time,
CROW: Originally, it was about a 75-year old Wal-Mart greeter named Zeke
and his wise-cracking pet llama, Chester.
> and finally it's ready for you to
>read it.
MIKE: [Stephen] I finally figured out a way to deliver electric shocks
over the Internet!
> At present, the end of the story is not quite ready, but that's
>not a problem.
>
TOM: [Stephen] I plan to have a truck run over everyone at the end.
>You see, I'm a frim believer in serialization.
CROW: New Frim cereal - now with extra fiber for extra-ASC action!
> Royal and Prime Directives
>will be coming to you, one part, one chapter, a week, just like the other
>of my stories have come to you.
MIKE: Thus making our every waking moment a living nightmare on a
*regular* basis.
> Every month there will be a repost of
>previous chapters, as well.
TOM: Now there's something to look forward to in your mailbox.
> I may speed up or slow down the posting, based
>on demand, and my muse.
[Crow does speeded-up tape player noises]
> My muse may also render that part number wrong,
TOM: His parts supplier is relabeling everything in the catalog.
>but I don't think so, at the moment.
>
CROW: So Ratliff's muse is responsible for all the errors in his stories?
MIKE: I don't think that's possible for just one muse.
>For those of you who haven't read my works,
CROW: Count your blessings.
> that shouldn't be a problem for
>the most part with this story, but if you are curious about just how
>Marrissa got to where she is in the beginning of this story, you can check
>out:
>
>http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff
>
TOM: The shrine of evil.
CROW: Alternatively, you could poke your eyes out with a
knitting needle.
>I, as always eagerly await feedback, of all types.
>
MIKE: [Ratliff] Even from those three guys up in the space station.
>Stephen
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family
>
MIKE: SNORRRRRRRRE!!
TOM: Pheeeeeeeeew!!
CROW: Eebeebeebeebeebeeb!!
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-03!supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!newsfeed.direct.ca!
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>POSTED!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen...@crosswinds.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives(Marrissa Stories) 1/16
>Message-ID: <sqco0uk5dksp0vmgf...@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
TOM: Now *that's* an irregular fraction!
CROW: 0.05530293...
TOM: Oh, don't be a show-off!
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>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:155262
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
MIKE: First Directive: Enforce the law.
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
TOM: The spamproofing! It's impenetrable!
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 1/16 Serialized Weekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet
CROW: Yep, it's a planet. The End.
> where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>Prologue
>
> It had become deathly still in Enterprise-E's bar.
MIKE: Someone had ordered an Old Milwaukee. Willingly.
TOM: Plus Data was doing stand up again.
> The bar had
>been full of activity. Everyone was still there,
TOM: o/` Closing time - you don't have to go home but you can't stay
here. o/`
> but they were all staring
>at Lieutenant Ferguson Calgary
MIKE: And his roommate, Ensign McGillicudy Saskatoon.
> and Lieutenant Marrissa Picard.
TOM: A.K.A. The Devil You Know".
> Lieutenant
>Calgary was La Forge's new second assistant. Picard was the Chief of
>Security.
CROW: And me? I'm just your friendly omniscient narrator. Have a good
evening, folks.
> As for why they were being stared at, that was Calgary's fault.
TOM: She'd told him tutus weren't considered proper Starfleet attire.
>He had just insulted Picard by questioning her right to hold her position,
MIKE: Memorial services will be Thursday at 4:00 PM in the ship's chapel.
>insinuating that she had got the position because her father was Captain.
CROW: Sleeping her way to the t- wait that doesn't apply here.
TOM: He's wrong of course. She got it due to deus ex braindeath on
Starfleet's part.
>But that was not why Marrissa was mad at him.
CROW: [Marrissa] I so can't believe you didn't get me *squat* for my
birthday!!
MIKE: [Calgary] But you said I shouldn't buy you anything!
CROW: [Marrissa] And you didn't! How *dare* you?!?
> " Don't call me that.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Call me Ishmael!
> My name is Marrissa Amber Picard. My title
>is Princess. My rank is Lieutenant. My job is Chief of Security,"
MIKE: [Marrissa] My favorite color is blue.
TOM: [Marrissa] My broker is E.F. Hutton.
CROW: [Marrissa] My turn-ons are Mozart, long walks on the beach and
conquering aliens.
>Marrissa began, standing up from her seat. "I'd appreciate it if you would
>call me by any name or title that I am entitled to use instead of Risa"
CROW: A Marrissa story by any other name would still bore me to death.
> "Oh the poor little baroness can't stand a nickname," Calgary
>sneered back.
MIKE: Wow! He *is* taking his life in his hands, isn't he?
TOM: Yeah, sure. By the end of this, he'll either be dead or Marrissa's
newest boot-licking sycophant.
> "If you're going for royal titles, it's Princess," Marrissa
>responded.
TOM: [Marrissa] As in, "Off with his head!" Get it, Montreal?
CROW: [Calgary] Calgary.
TOM: [Marrissa] Whatever.
> "Oh I'm not, Miss Ensign."
> "Lieutenant."
TOM: When they get to Commander, sell!
> "I stand corrected, Miss Insecurity."
CROW: Y'know, even granted that it's Marrissa, it's still probably not real
smart to go out of your way to antagonize the security chief.
MIKE: [Marrissa] What's that, Fergie? Trapped by J'Em Hadar Troops? Don't
worry, I'll send down a rescue squad - just as soon as I finish all
of last month's paperwork! BWHAHAHAHAH!!!!
> "I don't have to listen to this."
TOM: [grumbles] Yeah, but we do...
> "No, you don't," Calgary shot back. "You can go hide behind those
>titles of yours. Tell me Risa, is their anything under them?"
[All sigh]
MIKE: And there we go.
CROW: Or their we go.
TOM: Or even they're we go.
> Marrissa glared at Calgary.
MIKE: The sprawling Canadian city will soon be drenched in strawberry juice.
> She raised her hand as if she was
>going to slap him,
CROW: Suddenly a hockey game breaks out!
> but apparently decided against it.
MIKE: Instead reaching for her trusty phaser.
> Marrissa turned away
>and walked out of the bar.
TOM: Thus nullifying the joke.
> From over on the other side of the bar, Commander William T. Riker
>moved out of the shadows.
CROW: [Kosh] Riker has always been here.
> "Mr. Calgary, you've got some explaining to
>do..."
>
CROW: [Lucy] But Riker, waaaaaaaah!!
> Marrissa sat in her room lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
MIKE: [Marrissa] When did I get mirrors installed up there?
CROW: [Marrissa] And what's that "fap fap fap" sound I keep hearing?
>She had been unable to get Calgary's last words out of her mind.
TOM: [Calgary] Straw... berry... fields...
> Was there
>nothing to her without her titles?
MIKE: Well, there's her obsession with strawberries.
TOM: And let's not forget her fantastic piano playing.
CROW: Plus, there's her browbeating of Jay Gordon. That'll get you up
in the morning.
> Lately, it seemed like that was true. She did nothing but work.
CROW: It's called a "job", Marrissa - look into it!
TOM: [Mel Brooks] Work, work, work, work, work, work!
>She hadn't had any time off since she had boarded the Enterprise-E, some
>three months ago.
MIKE: Please - don't talk to *me* about bad work experiences.
> Her off duty hours were filled with classes and Kid's Crew
>business.
TOM: And destroying alien races, brokering peace treaties, quashing
mutinies! Oh! And decoupage!
> In fact that night had been the first time she had gotten to the
>Enterprise-E's bar.
MIKE: And now she was sloshed out of her skull.
> Marrissa couldn't remember doing something not associated with her
>jobs since she had become Chief of Security.
CROW: Hey, after all she drank tonight, she's lucky she remembered where
her quarters were!
> All the other senior officers
>had spare time to do other things, why didn't she?
>
TOM: [Marrissa] *Sigh* Man, building an evil empire is such a drag!
> Prince Avery,
CROW: *Tex* Avery.
MIKE: And his consort, Red Hot Princess Hood!
TOM: *A-wooooooooooo!*
> son of King Robert of Ellosia, was riding among the
>fields of Suppor.
MIKE: He had already passed the meadows of Lonch and the glades of
Breakfost.
> They were part of the Earldom which he held title to, as
>heir to the throne, not that the job meant much.
CROW: Oh! They're British royalty!
> His father always told
>him that there would be a time when he'd wish he still was just the heir.
MIKE: It's the Frank Sinatra Jr. Story.
>As Avery saw it, being Crown Prince had very little to recommend it.
CROW: Apart from the life of comfortable luxury, the foxy royal babes-
in-waiting and wanting for nothing, being Crown Prince sucks.
> He
>was expected to know everything his father knew, but could do nothing about
>it. He had no choice in his eventual bride.
MIKE: Although ABC did give him some roses to hand out.
> Though he preferred the oldest daughter of the Duchess of
>Castrome.
TOM: He wants Castro's eldest daughter? Man, is he messed up!
> Unfortunately, the thirteen-year-old Lady was not considered
>high on the list for the sixteen-year-old Prince.
CROW: But his cousin, Prince Jerry Lee, was all over her.
> The Duchess had little
>influence in court, while the other Dukes, who had been around since his
>Father took the throne, did.
MIKE: Especially that up-and-coming Sir Edmund Blackadder.
> The Dukes were putting forward various
>foreign Princesses.
CROW: [Waylon] Yep, them Duke boys was at it again - this time they'd
tricked Sheriff Coltrane into marrying old Lucretia Dalrymple.
> The Duke of Armedge had suggested Princess Clotilda
MIKE: Note to all future royalty: avoid giving your princesses names that
start with "clot".
>of Janvart, a hulk of a woman
TOM: HULK SMASH PUNY PRINCE!!!
> who some said slept in full armor.
MIKE: I hope she doesn't *swim* in full armor
> The Duke of
>Avtra was always spouting the merits of Princess Fay of Grimall.
TOM: As well as emphasizing her vast real estate holdings.
> Avery had
>met Princess Fay, during a peace negotiation a couple years back.
CROW: They were settling some ... hundred year ... war of the rose ...
bushes or something. Doesn't matter what.
> The
>fragile health of the tiny little girl would never survive the sea voyage
>across the straights of Astra,
TOM: This reads like "How The Grinch Stole Royalty"!
> much less the month long journey from her
>home, besides, she was too quiet for his tastes.
MIKE: He preferred them loud, brassy, and obnoxious.
CROW: [Avery] I'd let her risk a horrible death at sea, but she's too
quiet!
> The Duke of Fasstime
ALL: Aloha, Duke Hand!
>was set on Avery's marriage to Queen Kaitlin of Dinath.
TOM: So we know who's in the Kaitlin with Dinath.
MIKE: Wow. An exposition sequence combined with a introduction sequence.
I think Ratliff's hit a new personal high.
> The match with someone
>three times his age
CROW: Charles Nelson Reilly - but it's enough for a win.
> was not something he wanted to dwell on.
TOM: This is diverting and all, but why've we been dropped into the middle
of "Ivanhoe" all of a sudden?
MIKE: *sigh* I have a feeling we'll find out before long.
> There were times when Avery wished his father had never chosen to
>take the throne. Avery sighed, it wasn't likely that another starship
>would crash and her crew take over.
MIKE: Really? Why not?
CROW: Yeah, it's standard Trek plot #114.
> He looked up to see the first star of
>the night rising ...
CROW: Sandra Bullock's flying lessons are paying off.
> it was time to head back to Odyssey
>
TOM: We've got the backstory, now, run! Run like the wind!
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family"
>
CROW: He had a dream.
TOM: He had an *awesome* dream.
>From ???@0x000060FC Mon Dec 10 17:56:29 2001
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen...@crosswinds.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 2/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
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TOM: FORTE AGENT ONE POINT EIGHT BACKSLASH THREE TWO POINT FIVE
FOUR EIGHT!!!
MIKE: Ow!
TOM: See, cause forte means loud.
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MIKE: Hey, I think that's the title of a Yes album!
>Status: N
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 2/16
CROW: That's 1/8 in lowest terms.
> Serialized Weekly
TOM: For your protection.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: And is vanquished with ridiculous ease by the crew of Voyager.
CROW: So what else is new?
>Chapter One: Tavern
>
TOM: Immediately followed by "Chapter Two: Drunktank".
> Captain Picard took a deep breath as he entered the tavern.
MIKE: [Picard] Mmmm, fresh-baked cookies.
>Ah, the smell of the local ale.
CROW: It reminded him of wet Tellarites on a muggy summer day.
> It had been thirty years since he had been in
>the Lonely Dragon.
MIKE: The statute of limitation expired the moment he stepped in!
> The town of Alripor
TOM: Huh? The town of Al Roker?
> was literally light-years off
>ship's usual station.
CROW: But somehow less than 12 parsecs if you're in the Millennium Falcon.
> It was nice to see that some things stayed the same.
TOM: His hairline...
MIKE: Stinky French cheese...
CROW: Rick Berman's insatiable moneylust...
> True, the
>barkeeper's hair was no longer sandy brown,
CROW: He was shaved bald, and wearing a jacket made of hemp.
> and the signs of wear were more
>evident along the edge of the bar.
TOM: Although some of the dents fit the foreheads of the people he knew!
> Most of the patrons were unfamiliar to
>Picard, but it had been quite sometime. There was an old sea captain,
CROW: Arrrh, Jim lad!
>a young man with a young woman on his lap,
MIKE: Or it could have been a young woman with a man on her lap. Picard
decided he was better off not knowing.
> a man in an old ducal tunic,
TOM: It was made of duckskin?
CROW: It rubs the lotion on its feathers...
>and a couple men who were quite drunk.
MIKE: Then there was Paul the real estate novelist who never had time for
a wife. He's talking with Davy who's still in the Navy and probably
will be for life.
> "Ah Captain, it's been some time since this establishment has seen
>your like," the barkeep said.
CROW: [Barkeep] Someone who's had a bath this year!
> "Twenty-two years, I believe," Picard said. "I decided to return
>to sail the seas of my youth for the last year before I retire."
MIKE: Translation - Sad old man trolling for young tail.
> "Old Captains never retire, they go down with their ship!" a old
>seaman in the corner shouted.
CROW: [Picard] So what are you doing here, then?
TOM: [seaman] Um... shore leave?
> "It's a harsh life on the sea, and only a couple men survive on the
>Stargazer since the last time I set foot in Alripor," the Captain
>acknowledged.
MIKE: [Picard] I killed the rest myself. Shame really, but someone had to.
> "Times change.
TOM: And newspapers evolve.
> I figure I'll retire while I still have my
>health.
MIKE: [Picard] Funny, my - my arm is numb. I - it - *thunk*
> Then I'll settle down in my family's village up in the high valley
>below the Double Peaks."
CROW: [Picard] I've bought a house just below the Great Northern Hotel, and
I've met a lovely girl named Laura Palmer.
> "You won't last away from the sea," the old seaman said. "I've
>plied the coves and seas around this isle for half a century,
MIKE: And still you don't have a job.
> and I've yet
>to see a old seaman who could stay away from the sea."
CROW: [Picard] I repeat: what are you doing here, then?
TOM: [seaman] Look, can't a guy have a holiday once in a while?
> "'It is a wild call, a clear call,
MIKE: A 1-800-COLLECT call!
> which can not be denied,'"
>Picard quoted.
MIKE: But enough about becoming a Rescue Ranger.
> "True, so true, it's a story that we never want to end," the old
>seaman remarked.
ALL: Unlike this one.
> "Speaking of tales, I hear there is an interesting one regarding
>how this land received it's current king," the Captain said. "Perhaps you
>know the tale."
CROW: Good segue, Jean-Luc!
TOM: He's got all the subtlety of a Joint Congressional Inquiry.
> "Old Giles knows it, he was there," the barkeeper said.
MIKE: [Giles] Was not!
CROW: [Barkeep] Was so!
MIKE: [Giles] Big fat liar!
CROW: [Barkeep] Scurvy little snitch!
> "Aye," the sea captain said. "I know the tale."
TOM: [Captain] 'Tis the tale of a fateful trip! It started from this
tropic port...
> "Barkeep, a round on me, while Giles tells his tale," Picard said.
CROW: [Giles] Yes, you see I was assisting my charge, the Slayer, in our
investigation of an undead ice cream truck driver...
> "It was twenty years ago last Spring.
MIKE: Sgt. Pepper taught the band to swing!
> I was working as First Mate
>on the fishing vessel Herold's Hawk
CROW: Starring Bruce Willis and Danny Aiello!
> out of the village of Bluepor,"
TOM: And its neighboring town, Praktikal Joak.
>Giles began his tale.
> "Hey, last time you said you were Second Mate," a young man with a
>day's growth of beard said from his seat beside a blonde lass.
MIKE: [Young man] And you were wearing a full body cast. And it was
sleeting. And you had to walk to school uphill both ways. And the
fish was ten feet long.
> "And the time before that, Third," the blonde said.
CROW: And before that, he was the ship's purser, Gopher.
> "Okay, I was just a Midshipman," Giles said. "Any way ..."
TOM: [Giles] But we had Staubach back in those days!
> It wasn't a big ship,
CROW: It's all in how you use it.
> just a single mast and only 50 yards long,
>but the late Captain Mallard,
[All make quacking noises]
> God rest his kind soul, paid well.
MIKE: [Giles] In fact, I still don't know why we stripped him naked,
tied him to the anchor, and tossed him overboard!
> We were
>just about to enter Sapphire Bay, when we first heard it.
>
TOM: [Giles] It was horrible! A terrible screech powerful enough to
jostle the very corners of Hell itself!
MIKE: [Picard] It wasn't by any chance a group called Genesis, was it?
TOM: [Giles] Yes, how'd you know?
> It came from the sky.
TOM: IN MONSTER-RAMA 3-D!
CROW: AND THUNDERSOUND!
> A white marble stone, shaped like two dinner
>plates placed so their bottoms faced out wards, was descending from the
>sky.
MIKE: And mashed potatoes and peas and applesauce were leaking out from
the middle, I mean, it was just gross!
> It made a ear splitting roar as it skipped like a stone on thrown
>across a pond.
TOM: From the sky.
> I spun the wheel, to avoid the object as it impacted the
>water, making another hop into the bay.
CROW: From the sky.
MIKE: Cut that out!
> The Herold's Hawk was pushed back,
>on to the rocks
MIKE: That ain't no big surprise.
CROW: Yeah, just pour me a drink and I'll tell you some lies.
> on the east side of the entrance to the bay.
TOM: Hey, do you mind? We're saving this spot for the Mayflower.
> Only the
>extraordinary swell created by the saucer's bounce saved us from being
>hulled by the rocks.
CROW: Yeah, I think Popeye was saved by that trick once.
> After a brief check to make sure that we weren't leaking,
MIKE: [Giles] Thanks to the wonders of Depends...
> Captain
>Mallard ordered us to sail for the town of Sappor, at the back of the bay.
TOM: Translation - Beat cheeks!
>The Captain feared, rightly it turns out, that the object we had just
>avoided was headed towards the town.
TOM: Didn't I read this in Watchmen?
> Now Sappor at the time was one of the largest of our towns, just
>short of becoming a city.
CROW: [Giles] Of course, you'd know that, being from this planet and all.
> It was known as resort, its baths being renown
>for their healing purposes.
MIKE: Not to mention their scrubbing bubbles.
CROW: They work hard so you don't have toooooooooo.
> For years, Kings have maintained a castle on
>the harbor there,
TOM: After centuries of trying it the other way around.
> as sort of a retreat from the business of court, which
>use to be set in the city of Vestra.
CROW: [Giles] But, again, a native of this planet would know that, so why
am I even explaining it to you?
> It had been the custom of King
>Ferral,
MIKE: King *Will* Ferral.
TOM: He entertained the court with his Dubya impression.
> the ninth of that name, to spend the winter and early part of
>spring in Sappor, and he was residing in the Castle, along with all the
>royal family at the time.
TOM: Hey, Giles? Signal when you get near a point!
> When the town of Sappor appeared, we were shocked. The harbor
>was gone. The Castle was gone.
MIKE: The Costco Warehouse Store was gone. The Jiffy Lube was gone. All
85 Starbucks were gone.
> The only buildings left standing were the
>old Grey Eagle Inn, which was on the east end of town, and the Church of
>Our Lady of the Sea on the west end of town.
CROW: Somebody call in Secret Squirrel! *And* Atom Ant! Hurry!
> Between the two was the large
>saucer which had embedded itself where the harbor use to be, extending back
>to the old edge of town.
CROW: Sounds like "Alien Nation".
TOM: Nah, more like "Haven" to me.
MIKE: You guys really scare me sometimes.
> Around it's edges were the crushed remains of the
>town of Sappor.
>
MIKE: Yeah, we gathered. Thanks.
> At that, the man in the tattered ducal tunic interrupted. "It
>wasn't damaged that bad.
CROW: Ah, Spokesman for the Sappor Realtors Commission here.
> I visited the town a month after the disaster,
>and there were plenty of houses standing."
>
> "Whose telling this story?"
TOM: The Stephen Ratliff Motto.
> Giles said, gesturing with his glass of
>ale.
CROW: So, it's the booze talking?
> After a moment's silence, he took up the tale again.
>
TOM: And Cecil B. DeMillertime continues...
> After staring at the remains for what seamed like an eternity,
>Captain Mallard
CROW: ...Put on a cape and shouted "I am the terror that flaps in the night!"
> decided to send a boat to look for survivors and lend any
>aid. We went armed with our swords,
MIKE: They're going to *kill* the survivors? I fail to see how that helps.
> as we had no idea where this saucer
>had come from.
TOM: Gee, you don't think *the sky* would be a safe bet, do ya?
> I was on the first boat, and it was when we came ashore on the west
>side of the saucer that I met the lady who would become our Queen.
CROW: I asked myself, "Is this a real life? Is this just fantasy?"
> She was
>dressed in a strange blue and black outfit and was leading a group of five
>people in freeing a young girl from the wreckage of a house.
CROW: Caught in a landslide, no escape from...
TOM: Shut up!
> Queen Claire was a Doctor,
ALL: Not a bricklayer.
> apparently from the vessel which had
>crashed into Sappor. As we worked to free the young girl, and others, I
>learnt many things from watching her and her fellow crewmates.
TOM: Too bad how to tell a shorter story wasn't one of them.
> The ship
>was called the Odyssey, after a famous voyage in their homeland, which lies
>far beyond the stars.
MIKE: Produced by Roger Corman.
> They claimed that their ship was damaged and they
>had no choice but to make a crash landing.
CROW: And being rock stupid, you accepted that without question.
> All that day we spent freeing people.
TOM: They're with Amnesty Interstellar.
> At nightfall, the crew of
>the Odyssey retired their vessel,
MIKE: They gave it a dinner, a gold watch and a couple of wheelbarrows full
of Enron stock.
> which was nearly completely intact save
>for some damage from the rear and some forward windows which had been
>knocked out.
CROW: I call no way! The Enterprise-D was Galaxy-class ship, and its
saucer was trashed by crashing into a field!
TOM: Yeah, but the Enterprise-E rammed a great big huge giant Reman
warship with just paint scratches!
MIKE: Say what you want about Starfleet - they're constantly improving
their shock absorber technology.
> I and my crew mates returned to the ship.
CROW: And the townspeople returned to the piles of their houses and waited
for dysentery, cholera, and typhoid to set in.
> The next morning, a rider was spotted, heading towards town on the
>old road from Vestra. He was proceeding at a rather fast pace,
MIKE: Hey, fella, watch out for that gigantic wrecked...
TOM: *whumpf*
MIKE: ...starship.
> and I was
>surprised that he got as far as he did before he stopped his horse to gape
>at the ruins.
CROW: Hmph! Medieval rubbernecking!
MIKE: Take a lithograph! It'll last longer!
> The rider was wearing the insignia of the household of the
>King, apparently returning with some urgent message.
TOM: "Royal astronomers warn falling stars, evacuate Sappor soonest
possible"... uh-oh.
> After a moments
>pause, he resumed his journey.
CROW: [Messenger] Hm. The town's a smoking pit, and there's a giant
Frisbee where the palace used to be. No problem!
> It was around noon when the rider reached
>the Grey Eagle Inn.
CROW: Named for its owner, Sam the Eagle.
> The rider demanded to speak to who was in charge, it was then that
>the man in red and black made his presence known.
CROW: It's Santa Cash!
> He was a tall strong
>man.
MIKE: [Giles, dreamily] His arm muscles glistening with sweat. His strong,
firm thighs outlined by his riding tights. [Starts giggling]
> Strapped to his side was a saber, which glimmered as if it had never
>been used.
TOM: If Ratliff brings Mackenzie Calhoun into this, I will give him *such*
a pinch!
> "I guess that's me," the man said.
MIKE: [Giles] I'm withholding his name to heighten the suspense of it all.
> "I'm Captain Richard York
>of the Odyssey.
CROW: Intergalactic Studmuffin!
> That's my ship that crashed into this town, and I guess
>it's my job to clean up the mess.
MIKE: [York] I guess. Why do I always get the hard work? First I have
to load the dishwasher and now this!
> It was then that Captain York learnt the extent of the problem.
>King Ferrel was dead.
ALL: Gasp!
CROW: We'll never hear his Neil Diamond imitation again!
> His whole family was dead.
MIKE: All the royal pets: dead.
CROW: Wormer - dead. Neidermeyer - dead.
TOM: Heck, the whole world was dead! It's George Romero's King of the Dead!
> To make matters worse,
TOM: There was a fresh load of kittens in the castle that day.
> the four Dukes of the Kingdom were all one
>step from warring with each other.
CROW: And that step would be actually declaring war.
> In fact, the rider had just come from
>Laville where the Duke of Castrome
MIKE: The Duke was a bearded commie in a tinpot military uniform.
TOM: Great - the whole thing's a botched CIA operation!
> had forbidden any of the Duke of Astra's
>retainers from entering his Dukedom under pain of death.
TOM: Aw, but he spent ages polishing the upholstery!
> Now it looked
>like there would be civil war, because King Ferrel had always solved these
>problems
MIKE: Agh, what a bunch of wusses!
TOM: Car broken down? Call King Ferrel!
CROW: King Ferrel - the Mr. Fixit of the Kingdom.
> and now he was gone, so it would be even worse than before.
CROW: Yes, a civil war would definitely count as "worse than before".
> Captain York had an unreadable expression during the rider's
>explanations.
MIKE: Mainly, it was boredom.
> He then began asking questions. He asked about the Dukes.
>He asked about other nobles. He asked about alliances.
CROW: He asked about prime-time TV schedules.
MIKE: He asked about our local cheeses.
CROW: He asked why the sky was blue, and what was Vietnam, and
about a tree falling in an empty forest, and...
> Within an hour,
>he had picked our brains clean of any knowledge we had about the situation.
MIKE: [Giles] Basically, he left us a bunch of drooling morons.
> Finally, asked for someone who could write for him, and dictated a
>message.
CROW: [York] "Dear mom, have crashed on feudal planet, will be taking over
soonest, don't hold supper. Love, Ricky."
> He asked all four dukes to come to Sappor in four days. He
>signed it, the King, just that, nothing else.
TOM: Immediately, hordes of crazed Elvis fans crowded into the city.
> Then having four copies
>made, he had the rider pick three new riders and sent them off.
MIKE: It's an intergalactic chain letter.
> The next four days where spent with the Crew of the Odyssey
CROW: Where Crew?
MIKE: There Crew. There pips. There wolf.
TOM: *sigh* Sometimes, it's just too easy.
>clearing up the remains of the town of Sappor.
TOM: Great, they're obsessive-compulsive emergency medical technicians.
> By the time the Dukes
>arrived,
CROW: [Waylon] ...Boss Hogg was hopping mad, cuz they'd stolen all his
moonshine.
> all the wooden rubble had been cleared and some of the stone.
>They also had staked out the layout for what was to come the new city of
>Odyssey.
TOM: And the contractor had already told them they were over budget and
behind schedule.
> The four Dukes arrived with their usual large companies of
>soldiers. Each came in the company of a dozen knights and three dozen men.
MIKE: This is going to be an awkward doo-wop group.
>They each had a squire and page for each knight, a couple personal
>ministers, and a priest.
TOM: Given all this, how many knights, men, squires, pages, ministers
and priests did I meet on the way to St. Ives?
> The Duke of Fasstime brought his pet cat.
CROW: [Spicoli] Dude! That was my cat! I'm *so* wasted!
>The Duke of Castrome was accompanied by his daughter.
MIKE: Meadow Castrome.
CROW: Next up, a Duke and a Dame!
> The Duke of Avtra had
>his speaking bird which spoke more than the Duke.
CROW: And now, "Silent Cal" Avtra and his pretty birdie!
> The Duke of Armedge
>played his flute as his men marched to the cadence of his drummer.
CROW: And finally, Duke Future Embarrassing Scandal!
TOM: Let's give them all a big hand, they're here to bemuse us all until
such time as they get out of the story!
> They each were met by a man dressed in the King's livery, who lead
>them to camps situated away from the town, where tents bearing their arms
>were pitched.
MIKE: And where they could be executed in a neat, orderly fashion.
> The next day, they were summoned into the Odyssey.
TOM: How did they get into a book?
MIKE: They used Gumby technology.
> I don't
>know what was said in that meeting, only the Dukes do,
CROW: [Waylon] They wouldn't even tell ol' Cooter down at the garage.
> but I do know that
>they left the Odyssey changed.
TOM: [York] Screw the Prime Directive! Break out the mind sifter!
> Since then not a single incident has
>occurred between the dukes.
CROW: [Waylon] Yessir, the ol' Duke boys are nice an' peaceable now.
MIKE: I think we get it, Crow.
CROW: Not yet you don't. It has to be made *clear*!
> Upon the Dukes' return to their castles, they
>proclaimed Captain York, King Richard I of Ellosia..
MIKE: [Giles] Now let me tell you about the first year of his reign...
> Since then he has built up our navy, defended our shores from
>attack, and ruled us well.
>
TOM: [Giles] And, uh, he hasn't been struck down by a bolt from the sky
either, so that's another big bonus.
> "Surely there is more to the story than that,"Captain Picard said.
TOM: God, please, no!
MIKE: I think Stevie's been taking narration lessons from Pete.
>"You just don't lock yourself into a room and hope that an agreement will
>come,
TOM: Of course not. You lock the *other* guys in a room and wait for them
to agree.
> although I have heard of that technic working a time or two."
CROW: Got a problem? Legos will solve it!
MIKE: That's "Technix" Tom.
TOM: Oh! Never mind.
> The man in the ducal tunic raised his cup. "I was there when the
>Dukes met our current King," he said. I was once known as Lord Byron,
CROW: Oh, and have I mentioned that you walk in beauty like the night?
>the late Duke Carlisle of Castrome's Chamberlain.
MIKE: Try saying that four times fast with a spoon full of spinach.
> For another round, I'll tell
>you the sad tale of that meeting."
CROW: [Byron] *Two* more rounds and I'll give you the happy version!
MIKE: [Byron] *Three* more and I'll tell the story in the style of
a 50's radio program!
> "Barkeep, another round for Byron and my friends," Captain Picard
>said, raising his cup to clink with Byron's, sealing the deal.
>
CROW: Six hours later.
MIKE: [Loud and drunk] So there we were *HAW HAW*, tying the duke naked
to a goat!
> Duke Carlisle was a gaunt man in his mid fifties at the time of
>our King's ascension to the throne. He was engaged in an ongoing feud with
>Murdock,
TOM: The Duke Who Knows No Fear.
> who is still Duke of Avtra over Janna Bay and the town of Janna.
CROW: A town designed to fit well with the Name Game song.
TOM: So, he's Duke of a town and some water.
MIKE: Yep.
TOM: We're in Hell, aren't we?
MIKE: Yep.
>The Duke was tending to his estate at Castrome Cross when the royal
>messenger reached him, requesting his immediate appearance at Sappor.
MIKE: They have to get to Sappor before the food all cools off.
> The
>Duke was rather worried when he received the message. You see, he'd just
>finished a little raiding on Fort Janna, which overlooked Janna Bay and was
>manned by Murdock's men.
TOM: Fort Janna, protecting Janna City on Janna Bay. *Somebody* was up
all night thinking up the geography.
> But the late King Ferrel was not one who you
>disobeyed so blatantly.
TOM: But apparently you could kill him with little or no repercussion.
CROW: Laws are laws.
> A little raiding on a fellow Duke was easily
>ignored,
CROW: [Waylon] Except that one time Uncle Jesse caught Luke going through
Daisy's clothes closet! Boy howdy!
> but when the King summoned you, you came.
TOM: Looting and pillaging? Eh, that's small stuff! But you damn well
better be punctual!
> The Duke left the next morning with myself and his daughter,
>Desiree, in the company of about forty men.
MIKE: [Byron] Let's just say Desiree was... popular... and leave it at that.
> His advisers had argued
>against bringing Desiree, but the Duke loved his daughter and could not
>deny her request to come with him to Sappor's famous baths.
CROW: Ohhh ho ho! I smell a steamy bath scene coming up!
> I had remained
>silent, so I was the only advisor to go.
TOM: Once again, brown-nosing practice pays off big-time.
> The Duke had a low tolerance for
>disagreement when it came to requests from his daughter.
CROW: Being a spineless wimp and all.
MIKE: [Byron] Of course, in his defense, Desiree had a killer Kobayashi
Maru time.
> It was early on the second day when Sappor came into view. We were
>all shocked.
TOM: [Byron] None of us had expected "Spin City" to be canceled, and
we forgot to tape the season finale.
> The town was smashed beneath a large upside down ivory
>colored saucer.
CROW: Yeah. We covered this part. Get on with it!
> As we stood there and took in the view in the early
>morning, the Captain of the Duke's guard pulled out his scope.
MIKE: Just because it's the end of the world is no excuse for bad breath.
> He handed
>the scope to the Duke, pointing to the center of the saucer. The Ellosian
>Royal Standard was flying from a pole on the highest point of the saucer.
TOM: It may look bad, but at least Fort McHenry's held.
> Duke Carlisle took it all in stride. "I see the King has changed
>his castle," he said. "Some deal with some magician I'd imagine. Well, we
>haven't all day. Onward!"
CROW: They're sure hard to impress, aren't they?
MIKE: [Duke] The sun's turned blood red, you say? Just swamp gas. Now keep
moving!
> When we arrived at the edge of the town, we were taken to newly
>prepared camps in the fields.
MIKE: [Duke] Canst thou send me the Mayor?
TOM: [Peasant] Yes, milord, we'll slip him under your door.
> It wasn't until all of the Dukes had arrived
>that we were finally summoned in to the Odyssey.
CROW: Please stay in single file. Don't wander away from the tour guide.
Souvenirs are available in Ten-Forward. Keep moving, please.
> Duke Carlisle did ask
>several times why, but the only reply was that "that's what the Captain
>said." This worried the Duke greatly.
>
MIKE: He was late for a meeting with his dealer!
> When we were called, the Duke was only allowed two advisors and two
>guards.
CROW: Or he could choose three advisors and one guard; or three guards and
one advisor; or one guard, one advisor, and two chickens.
> For Castrome our party consisted of the Duke, myself, little
>Desiree, and two knights, Sir Percy
TOM: Famed for his touching ballad, "When a Knight Loves a Woman".
> and Sir Oswald.
MIKE: Who was later slain by Sir Jack of Ruby.
> We were taken into the
>Odyssey by what appeared to have been large windows. We were taken into a
>small room which then opened up onto an entirely different set of
>corridors.
CROW: It's a maze of twisty passages, all alike.
> Our destination was a large room with five tables. Each of
>them had the arms of one of the Dukedoms,
MIKE: Meanwhile, the armless Dukes lay bleeding to death.
> save for the fifth, which was on
>a platform and bore no marking. But a sturdy chair, much more impressive
>looking than the simple ones at the other tables was at the middle.
TOM: They Came From Planet Ikea!
> One by one, the other dukes joined us in the chamber, taking their
>seats at their adorned tables, with an advisor at each side, and their
>guards standing behind them.
MIKE: [Picard] You do realize that stretching out this story won't get you
more beer, right?
CROW: [Byron] Oh, poopie!
> The Dukes all engaged in hostile staring
>contests.
MIKE: Then a bear and a woman holding a sign reading "Andy's Mom" appeared
behind one of them and started making out.
> The Duke of Fasstime petted his cat.
TOM: He'd auditioned for the role of a Bond Villain, but couldn't make the
final cut, poor sap.
> Duke Murdock's pet bird
>began repeating various hostile comments about his rivals.
CROW: RRawk! Frank Burns Eats Worms!
> Desiree began bugging her father for a bird and a cat.
MIKE: [Little kid] And a bunny and a hamster and a ferret and a dinosaur
and a pony and a hippo and a unicorn and a fairy and an elephant.
> It was into this hostile atmosphere that Captain Richard York
>walked into the room. He was accompanied by his wife,
TOM: Elizabeth Montgomery.
> who would become the
>lovely Queen Claire, and a burly man named Harlan.
MIKE: Yeah, ask him when he's putting "Last Dangerous Visions" up on the
Internet. See if he'll eat you.
> They took the seats at
>the head table, as men in yellow and black uniforms took up posts at the
>doors and beside the head table.
CROW: This is the first "Camelot" fan fiction we've read, right?
> "It appears that this is going to be tougher than I thought,"
>Richard mumbled before raising his voice to address the Dukes.
TOM: [John Wayne] Well, hel-lo there, pil-grims!
> "Good
>Afternoon, your graces. I know who you are,
CROW: [Dr. Forrester] And I saw what you did!
MIKE: You used to be able to do that voice so much better, Crow.
> and I believe you know
>everyone but, me,
TOM: The punctuation in, this sentence, is kind of, awkward.
> so I better introduce myself and tell you why I'm here.
MIKE: And why I'm wearing this dress.
>I'm Captain Richard York of the Starship Odyssey.
TOM: [York] Now, have any of you ever heard of a thing called "Amway"?
> The structure you are
>now in is what remains of my ship. I was on patrol of this sector of
>space, guarding it from Cardassians when a Cardassian Warship attacked my
>ship.
CROW: If you listen closely, you can hear this going way over their heads.
TOM: What happened to telling myths of the island "Earth" from far across
the sea?
> The Odyssey and her crew managed to destroy the warship, but the
>ship was damaged beyond repair,
CROW: [Random Duke] But isn't everything still working? You've got power
and everything!
MIKE: [York] DO NOT QUESTION ME! NEVER QUESTION ME!!!
TOM: [Byron] It was then that he earned the name, King Richard the
Hair-Triggered.
> and we were forced to make a barely
>controlled landing on this planet.
TOM: Barely controlled? They picked out the one stinking town in a hundred
mile radius!
> In the process, we crushed the town of
>Sappor and killed many people, including, according to what I've been told,
>the entire royal family.
CROW: [York] Sorry 'bout that. Now, who's for some lunch?
> As my ship caused the problem, I feel it is my
>responsibility to see that nothing suffers because of it.
TOM: [York] And when I say "nothing", I'm not counting the hundreds of
natives horribly mangled beneath this metallic leviathan.
> I've spent the
>last five days speaking to various surviving members of the late King
>Ferrel's court, and have come to the conclusion that
MIKE: [York] Ferrel really *is* a ridiculous name.
> none of you would
>support another one of your fellow dukes as King, and that there is no
>clear candidate to become King.
CROW: [York] Apparently, Lord Bush and Lord Gore are deadlocked, and the
Duchy of Palm Beach is rioting.
> Is that a good assessment, your graces?"
MIKE: Oh, I hate taking class evaluations. If I say something bad about
the instructor, I feel guilty. But if I make them sound too good,
I'm afraid it won't look realistic.
> It took a while for the Dukes to digest this new information.
TOM: [duke] What the hell's a Cardassian?
>Each of them began looking at their counterparts with suspicious glares.
CROW: So, he's *completely* insane then?
> As that confirmed his opinion, the Captain continued. "In
>addition, no one can become king without your support.
TOM: Them and the parliament or diet or witenagemot, sure.
MIKE: The *what*?
TOM: England, before William the Conqueror. Look it up.
MIKE: Get away from me.
> I'd like to have it."
TOM: [York] Seeing as you backward hicks couldn't even *hope* to govern
yourselves properly.
> That caused the room to break up in sputtering "What? No way!
CROW: Way!
TOM: No way!
CROW: Way!
MIKE: Baron Garth and Duke Wayne, ladies and gentlemen.
>Who do you thing you are?"
TOM: [Morticia] Thank you, Thing.
> The Captain let that go on for a minute or so
>before calling the room back to order.
> "Your Graces!" he ordered. "Sit down, and shut up!"
MIKE: Smartest thing anyone's said in the entire fanfic.
> Somehow that
>settled them down.
CROW: Yes, most royalty reacts positively to being treated like 4-year olds.
MIKE: Though all the guards leveling their pulsed phaser rifles at them may
have helped a bit.
> "That's better. Now I realize that this is not what
>you expected when you were called here.
MIKE: [York] Heck, that's not even what *I* expected when I called you here.
> I'm sure every one of you, down to
>the last guard and with the possible exception of the young girl chasing
>the cat, want to be King."
CROW: Yes, even the cat has an evil plan to take over the kingdom. Of
course, that's not really unusual for cats...
> During the uproar, the cat had left the Duke of Fasstime's table
>and was now being chased by the young girl on the far end of the room.
MIKE: Oh really? I couldn't gather that from the previous sentence.
Thanks for clearing that up for us.
TOM: Hey, look, it's a metaphor for the search for power!
>Her father called her back, and she returned to the seat, with the cat,
CROW: Yeah, and there are the constitutional limits on that power...
>who had been captured just short of pouncing on the bird.
MIKE: Just short of the prize! It'd be a brilliant foreshadowing of where
we know this story is going if we weren't sure it was just padding.
> "I think you'll find that my administration would be a lot easier
>than you taking the job.
TOM: [York] I just thought I'd emphasize some more what a slovenly,
backward country this is.
> I'm sure that there are days when you wish you
>never had become a Duke.
MIKE: Like "Dunk the Duke Fridays" down at the bar.
> Well, I've been told by several Kings that a
>King's job is much, much worse."
TOM: It's a great argument - if you're trying to scare Kelly Bundy out
of the job.
> "Duke Murdock of Avtra, I understand you are unwed.
CROW: [York] So, are you, like, busy Friday night and stuff?
> If you took the
>throne you would be pressured into a marriage for political purposes.
TOM: He'd have to marry Jenna Bush?
>Duke Carlisle, your daughter would suffer the same,
MIKE: Then she'd be forced to join the Go-Go's.
> never being able to marry
>for love.
CROW: This guy is completely unaware of the concept of mistresses, isn't he?
TOM: And he says he knows royal politics...
> Duke Lionel of Fasstime, I understand you had some trouble
>maintaining the Fasstime-Arm Road through Hammer Pass.
CROW: [sputtering] Arm? Hammer?
TOM: [Stephen] Let's see, what shall I name my fictional creations? I
think an inspirational trip to Krogers is called for here.
> If you were King,
>that wouldn't be the only road you had to worry about.
MIKE: [York] You'd be in charge of all those old Hope & Crosby movies too.
> Duke Nolan of
>Armedge, I understand that shortly after you became duke, you had to clear
>out the corrupt administration of the port of Arm.
TOM: Did you ever find the Earl of Hoffa, by the way?
> As King you would have
>to oversee over eight major ports.
CROW: And you clearly don't want somebody with experience and zeal for
that sort of work doing it.
> My Lord Dukes, I haven't even got to
>taxes, mediation, and ceremony.
CROW: [Duke] Boy, being King is sure hard work!
MIKE: [Duke] Yeah, if only there were someone who'd do it for us.
> I find it hard to believe that any of you
>want this job.
TOM: [York] Just how dumb ARE you guys?
> I am willing to take it on because I feel it's my duty
>because I caused the mess. Now, what say you?"
CROW: [Duke Lionel] I say you're a filthy, murdering usurper. And I'm not
going to...
MIKE: [York] SILENCE!
CROW: Yessir...
> Duke Murdock was first to speak. "After listening to your words, I
>do not want the job.
CROW: [Murdock] Being a king and stuff sucks! I wanna play in my band!
> I would not support any of my fellow dukes,
>so I believe I must pledge my loyalty to you, my King."
TOM: [Murdock] Your flawed, logic-less arguments have swayed my opinion.
> At the end of his statement, the colorful bird on his shoulder
>announced, "Long Live the King!"
MIKE: Then it pooped on the guy's shoulder.
> Duke Nolan was next, standing at his table.
TOM: Could we have some bread, *please*? And a menu finally?
> "I do not want the
>job.
CROW: Although I do want the power and prestige that comes with it.
> I spent three years rebuilding the port of Arm after corruption and
>raids from pirates nearly destroyed it.
TOM: You'd think he could at least have hired some tradesmen to help.
> I do not even want to think about
>what it would take to restore Sappor."
MIKE: Geez, maybe York's right - these guys sure aren't king material.
> Duke Lionel stood next. "I've been duke for ten years. During that
>time I've seen much infighting among my fellow dukes and attempted to end
>it among my vassals.
CROW: [Lionel] Which is why I had their sword arms all hacked off. Results
are mixed.
> I do not wish to see this fighting increase unto
>civil war.
TOM: [Lionel] Because if you think I'm hanging a Confederate flag in *my*
castle, you got another thing coming!
> I do not know you, Captain York,
MIKE: But there is nothing I wouldn't do for your Peppermint Patties.
> but I know my fellow noblemen
>too well. I will consent to your Kingship, because I do not believe anyone
>I know can do it."
CROW: Turns out alien planets are *easy* to conquer.
> Duke Carlisle was last to rise. "You have shown us that you are a
>take charge fellow, filled with duty.
TOM: That's a line designed to make our inner nine-year-olds titter.
> That is good. You've commanded this
>ship in space battles, you tell us.
MIKE: [Carlisle] So obviously you're some kind of outer demon or something!
> Your technology appears much greater
>than ours, yet you still ask us for your support when you could no doubt
>take us against our will.
CROW: Or maybe his injured, battle-wearied Starfleet officers are
vastly outnumbered by your standing armies. Dink.
> That is good. You are in short, just what we
>need. I will not stand in your way."
MIKE: Here's a man who knows which butt to kiss and when.
> It was with the tentative support of the Four Dukes that King
>Richard began his reign.
>
TOM: How to become king: Step 1 - Kill the current king and all his
relatives.
CROW: Step 2 - Convince all the nobles that they don't want the job.
MIKE: Step 3 - Inform the nobles that you *do* want the job.
TOM: Step 4 - Since you want the job and all the other nobles don't,
therefore you become king.
> "Now, Captain, we've told our tale, perhaps you can regale us with
>a tale or two about your adventures on your ship," Byron said,
MIKE: [Picard] Well, for that, just tune in to TNN every weeknight at
8:00 PM, 7:00 PM Central.
> emptying his
>glass again. "Barkeep, another ale!"
CROW: So, is this a Captain's Table story now?
> "I believe I have a tale," Captain Picard said. "It is about my
>third mate, truly an unusual officer."
TOM: [Picard] He's a Jell-O based being from the tenth dimension and he
only talks in ferret noises.
MIKE: [Byron] That's at most eccentric.
> "There is no such thing as an unusual seaman," Giles replied.
MIKE: *Ahem!*
TOM: *mmmmmmmmmwah!* Goodnight, everybody!
> "I disagree," Captain Picard replied. "But I ask that you reserve
>judgement until after I tell you how I acquired my second mate."
>
MIKE: Picard has a trophy wife?
CROW: He dumped Beverly for a 22-year old aerobics instructor named Mandi
from Spandex III.
> It was three years ago when I was sailing the Northern Seas, when
>my Third Mate at the time, came to me with a request.
TOM: [Picard] But what *good* would a shipboard version of "Plinko" do?
> It seemed that he
>had a wife in the port we were at that had just died,
CROW: He was the kinda guy that had a dead wife in every port.
> leaving a twelve year
>old child behind. He wondered if I might allow that child to serve as my
>cabin boy.
TOM: Instead of doing something stupid, like going ashore and raising the
kid himself instead of endangering him on the open sea.
> I had no objections, having lacked one for some time.
CROW: He shoulda just joined the Chris Elliot fan club.
> The next morning, he brought the child aboard. The child appeared
>quite scruffy, with blond hair that appeared to have been cut off with a
>knife.
MIKE: Hair by Mr. Scissorhands.
> However the outfit was clean, brand new looking in fact. So I put
>the child to work.
CROW: [Picard] I ran a sweatshop in the lower decks!
> We had been out to sea for three weeks on a two month trip, when
>the pirates attacked.
TOM: It began with their detaching the saucer section of the sailing ship
and traveling at warp speed around the whirlpool to - oh, forget it.
> We had been too predicable with our regular spice
>trip.
MIKE: [Picard] They shall come all - for violence!
> We fought them off and sunk their ship with a broadside of four of
>our ten cannons, but their attack had been with a heavy price.
TOM: $10,345.95
> Seven men
>were dead, including my third mate.
MIKE: [Picard] Also dead were my third chum, fourth pal, and fifth buddy.
> The child took it hard, but I gave the child no chance to drown in
>grief.
CROW: Yeah, yeah, daddy's dead, boohoohoo. Now go get me a flagon of grog,
Earl Grey, hot!
> We needed every hand. I put the child to work, mending sails,
>repairing damage, and so forth.
MIKE: Ironing my shirts...
CROW: Reading me bedtime stories...
TOM: Fluffing my pillow...
> There wasn't a job on the ship that the
>child hadn't learnt by the time we hit port. Unfortunately, I lost another
>five men who deserted in that port, so we were even more shorthanded on the
>return journey.
MIKE: [Picard] Then everyone died, including me. Boy, that was rough.
> During the return, the child became a fixture at my side.
TOM: [Picard] Later, I remodeled and had a wet bar put in instead.
> Anything
>I needed, the child provided.
CROW: You'd think that'd work the other way around.
> I, in turn, provided the child with
>knowledge.
TOM: The Young Radar O'Reilly Hornblower Chronicles.
> I taught the child how to sail, how to sword fight, and how to
>read and write.
MIKE: [kid] But I've already read "A Christmas Carol"! 35 times this week!
> But the child harbored a secret, one that I did not learn until a
>year later.By then the child was acting as the junior most of my
>officers, taking the second dog watch,
TOM: But who was watching the first dog?
MIKE: There are some things man was never meant to know.
> and I had a new cabin boy.
MIKE: [Picard] The boy having grown large enough to fight me off.
> We were traveling though the same sea on nearly the same voyage as
>the one in which I had lost my Third Mate, the child's father.
MIKE: You'd think he'd at least know "the child's" name by now.
> I had set a
>watch, but thick fog was impeding our progress. It was the fog that
>allowed the pirates to get close enough to board us.
CROW: Sure. *Always* blame it on pirates.
> But my sword fighting
>practice served us well, and we fought off the pirates,
MIKE: Thus clinching the NL Wild Card spot.
> the child making
>several impressive kills.
CROW: [Picard] Though killing that last guy with a 90-hit Ultra *was*
a bit much...
> However, the pirates did not leave the child
>unharmed, for they made several glancing cuts on the child.
TOM: Hi, Stephen? I'm a pronoun. Have we met?
> At the end of the battle, the pirates had lost, but the child's
>clothes were barely hanging on her body.
MIKE: Wait a sec... this is the result of several 'glancing' cuts?
What is she wearing, taffeta?
> It was apparent that I hadn't had
>a cabin boy, but a cabin girl.
CROW: [Picard] Suddenly, images of "Boys Don't Cry" floated through my
brain!
TOM: Geez, Sherlock, what was your first clue - the high-pitched voice or
the bumps on her chest?
> The girl was worried that I would throw her off the ship, now that
>I knew, for it is well known that ship captains prefer not to have women
>among their crews. I admit that the thought crossed my mind, but the girl
>had proved her merit.
TOM: Plus, she looked pretty good in tattered clothing!
> I certainly wasn't going to let her go in the middle
>of the sea,
CROW: But if you let her go and she comes back to you, she's yours forever.
> and I had promised her father that I would take care of her,
>although if I ever meet her father, somewhere beyond the grave, we're going
>to have a long talk.
TOM: So Captain Picard's view of the afterlife is interminable conferences.
MIKE: That's his view of life anyway.
> It was then that the death of my Fourth Mate at the
>time was discovered.
CROW: Fortunately, by subtracting his Fifth Mate from his Ninth Mate, he was
able to make do.
> I told the girl to go get dressed and began asking
>the rest of the officers who they thought could best fill the position.
MIKE: They named Frank Lautenberg.
>It was to my great surprise that the girl was their choice.
TOM: [Picard] Only Botswain Manitoba objected, so we pitched him overboard.
MIKE: Calgary.
TOM: Whatever.
> The door of the bar opened, and banged shut behind the person who
>entered.
ALL: NORM!!!
> The person was dressed in the same style of ship's uniform that
>Captain Picard wore, though less adorned.
TOM: Withholding her name isn't going to leave us any doubt who she is.
> Her hair was shoulder length,
>and blond. She, taking her beret like hat off, approached Picard's table
>and said, "Excuse me, Captain, but Commander Riker's compliments.
CROW: ...are fawning and insincere and he wants your job so bad he can
taste it.
>He wishes to inform you that we've obtained passengers for Odyssey, and
>are ready to embark on the evening tide."
TOM: Huh?
CROW: Translation: We're all aboard and ready to take off.
> "Very well, Marrissa," Captain Picard said. "I will be along as
>soon as I settle up my tab.
MIKE: Sadly, Picard soon discovered all they had was Diet Rite.
> Please wait for me outside."
> "Aye sir." The young girl left as Picard moved over to the bar to
>pay the barkeeper.
> "That's a nice young girl, you've got there," the barkeep
>commented.
ALL: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!
> "That will be 5 silver."
> "She's a fine officer," Captain Picard said, handing over the
>silver pieces before departing the bar.
TOM: His career as a lawyer was at an end.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff ASC FAQ Maintainer
>http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff/FAQs
>
CROW: So we've learned that if you're a Starship captain, you can drop your
ship on a primitive city, pretty much wipe out their entire royal
family, denigrate and bully the local nobles, and in return, they'll
gratefully make you king. Right?
TOM: Well, it worked for Nixon.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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 Guillaume), "Sports Night"