MSTed: Stephen Ratliff's "A Royal Mess", Part Two (4/7)
Mighty Jack
[The bridge of the Satellite of Love is teeming with activity.
Tom and Crow stand behind the command console. In between
the pair stand Ryan Stiles and Colin Mochrie. Peppy music
plays in the background, and the quartet is bobbing up and
down in time with the music.]
Crow: o/~ Hey there, everybody!
We're stuck up here in space!
Forced to watch bad movies
It all seems such a waste!
Things sure could be better,
but I'm not going to lie!
We're still better off than that Bill Clinton guy! o/~
[Applause and cheers can be heard in the background. Cambot's
view switches to Ryan.]
Ryan: o/~ I'm a TV actor,
I work on ABC.
They pay me lots of money
To work with Drew Car-ey.
I don't watch bad movies,
But my fate's even worse...
Drew likes to act in the nude, whenever we rehearse! o/~
[The crowd cheers wildly. Cambot switches to Drew, who's
blushing furiously. Cambot switches back to Colin.]
Colin: o/~ Here are these two robots,
I guess they're out of luck.
You could feel kind of sorry
For Fireplug and Spider-Duck.
Seeing these bad movies
Must really, really suck.
But I don't have to watch them, so I don't give a
flying... leap. o/~
[The crowd hoots and hollers. Mike enters from the right
side of the bridge with a confused expression on his face.]
Mike: Guys? What's going on here?
Tom: o/~ Hey, Mike, I've got a secret,
So promise you won't tell.
The friendly folks from "Whose Line"
Have come to visit for a spell.
As you can see, it looks like Drew
Has "Hoedown" on the brain.
But it keeps us out of the theater, so I really can't
complain! o/~
[More applause. Music continues under.]
Mike: That's pretty neat, Tom.
Tom : Hey, grab a verse, Mike!
Crow: Yeah, join the fun.
Mike: Oh, I couldn't...
Drew: [O.S.] Oh, c'mon Nelson, don't be a party pooper.
Mike: Well, if you're sure...
All : Yeah, c'mon, you can do it, etc.
[Mike starts getting into it and bobbing up and down to the music.]
Mike: o/~ Oh, Jack Frost and Doc Thinker,
The Final Sacrifice,
Time Speeder and Time Chaser and
Those Questing Delta Knights!
You wonder how we live through all
These dastardly attacks?
We say to ourselves it's just a show, we should really
just relax! o/~
All: REALLY JUST RELAAAAAAAAAAAAX!!!
[Thunderous applause]
Drew: That was pretty good, fellas, so I'm gonna award 7 million
points to Laura Hall. [laughter, applause] Okay, this next
segment is called "Props". You'll each divide into teams of...
[Suddenly, a peeved looking Greg Proops and Wayne Brady enter.]
Greg : Drew!
Drew : Oh, hi fellas.
Wayne: C'mon, man, fun's fun, but we got a show to do!
Drew : I'm not going back, guys! Not even if ABC apologizes!
Tom : For what?
Drew : They ran those stupid crawl ads for "Storm of the Century"
across the bottom of the screen! On *both* my shows!
Crow : Ouch!
Drew : Yeah, and it wasn't even a *good* Stephen King story!
Greg : Look, Drew, we know you're upset, but be reasonable.
Drew : Nope! If the SportsNight folks can pull their show for one night,
I can relocate up here with my new robot buddies! Right guys?
Crow : You betcha, Drew!
Tom : Yeah! We'll tell dirty jokes and drink beer all night!
Wayne: ABC's offered you more money!
Drew : Money?!? HAH! I laugh at their futile attempts to... how *much*
more?
[Greg hands him a piece of paper.]
Drew: Whoa!
Mike: How much?
[Drew passes the paper to Mike, who shows it to Ryan and Colin.]
Mike, Ryan & Colin: WHOA!
Wayne: Well, with Tim Allen leaving next year, they can dig a little
deeper.
Drew: That's it. C'mon you two, we're going.
Crow: Drew! What about our little club?
Tom : Yeah! We were gonna sit around and do guy stuff!
Drew: Sorry, fellas. I'd ask you guys to come along, but, well, I think
you kinda cheesed Colin off with that Canada song.
Tom : Huh?
[Colin sticks out his tongue as the "Whose Line Is It, Anyway?" group
trudges off.]
Tom : Darn it, Mike! This is all your fault!
Mike: Mine?!? How?
Crow: You could have met ABC's offer!
Mike: With what?! You guys have maxed out all my credit cards!
Tom : Yeah, and it's your fault for letting us!
Mike: Y'know, I should just forget about expecting linear thinking
around here.
[Lights flash, buzzers buzz and pandemonium erupts.]
Mike: Let's go, guys! WE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!!!
[..6..]
[..5..]
[..4..]
[..3..]
[..2..]
[..1..]
[Theater]
[Mike and the bots enter and sit down.]
Mike: Wow. I didn't even know we could fit a studio audience
on the bridge.
Crow: Oh yeah. There's scads of room over by the jacuzzi and
the bowling alley.
>Chapter Nine
>
> Clara Sutter, Princess of Essex, didn't like to be confined.
Tom: The giant space hamsters who had captured her wanted her to know
how it feels to live in a Habitrail.
>However it was for a good cause.
Mike: She needed to be spayed and the vet insisted on an overnight stay.
> She didn't want to rule this planet any
>more than Marrissa wanted to leave Starfleet. However this didn't stop
>her from making sure Marrissa knew her displeasure
Crow: (whiny) My feet hurt!
Tom: (same) My ankles are swollen!
Mike: (same) My elbows are chafed!
Crow: (same) My eyes are stinging!
Tom: (same) My stomach is rumbling!
Mike: (same) My episode guide to "The Six Million Dollar Man" got water
damaged!
Crow & Tom: Huh?
> and she wasn't exactly
>happy that Marrissa had gotten her into this.
Crow: Clara finally gets so fed up that she challenges the notion of
Marrissa-infallibility!
> "Marrissa, why did I let you
>talk me into this?" she asked.
> "You know why Clara," Marrissa replied.
Tom: (as Marrissa) Because I held up a shiny and tricked you into following.
> "Yes, 'It would be a good idea to learn more about a planet we
>may have to rule,'" Clara parroted. "'Plus some fresh air would do you some
>good.'
Mike: (as Clara) ...and, still, it is more fun than that whole "Sailor
Marrissa" thing.
> I don't know about you but I don't classify being confined in some
>detention cell on a Trakce vessel as fresh air."
Crow: (as Marrissa) Aw, c'mon, the air here is nearly four percent oxygen!
> "Stop sulking, Clara, like laughter, it's contagious," Marrissa
>replied.
Mike: Also like cooties.
Tom: No girlfriend in grade school, Mike?
Mike: (sulking) Um... no...
> "Yes, your royal highness," Clara replied.
Crow: (as Clara) That's right, Marrissa, I've been really, really *bad*...
Tom: Ugh... never, never do that again.
Mike: Hey, does that count as a syndrome?
Crow & Tom: Don't go there, Nelson!
> As they completed their conversation, a couple Trakce gray
>ribbons entered the cell.
Crow: Realizing that they were more intelligent than their wearers, the
hair ribbons eventually took control of the Trakce empire.
> "Get up," they said. "The master wants you."
Crow: (as Torgo) TRy noT tO mENtiOn tHe FaLcOnS tO hIM. He LoST a buNDlE
on tHe SuPeR bOwL. DaMN BrOnCoS...
Tom: Unfortunately, being only ribbons, the Trakce couldn't enforce
their demands.
>
> Meanwhile on the Bridge of the Enterprise, Worf announced, "They
>have stopped moving."
Crow: Much like this story.
Mike: (as Worf) Request permission to shoot them a few more times just to
make sure.
> "Admiral Picard to the bridge," Commander Riker said, tapping
>his communicator. Admiral Jean-Luc Picard entered the bridge from his
>ready room. "Cap-Admiral they've stopped moving."
Crow: (as Picard) Commander, was that a bald joke?
> "How much time do we need to get the necessary sensor scans?"
>Picard asked.
> "No more that ten minutes," Data replied from Ops.
Tom: Three weeks at the outside.
Mike: Next December, at the latest.
Crow: All that temp labor, you know.
Mike: Yeah... hey!
Crow & Tom: (chuckle)
> "Commander ready your teams," Picard said. "Worf prepare yours
>as well. I'll take tactical."
Tom: (as Daffy Duck) It's mine! All mine! I'm rich! I'm *fabulously*
wealthy!
>
> Princesses Marrissa and Clara were pushed into a large room on
>the vessel. Originally it was probably a cargo bay
Mike: But all the signs read 'Argocay aybay,' so she didn't know what to
make of it.
> but it had recently been
>converted to a combination throne room and operations center.
Crow: ... with a brig in the corner, I'm sure.
> "Be careful,
>gray ribbon, we don't want to mess up the puppets,"
Tom: Yeah! No messing with the puppets!
Crow: You better leave those puppets *alone*! (aside) Servo, why are we
getting so worked up over this?
> a familiar romulan voice
>said from across the room
Mike: (as gray ribbon) All right, pointy-eared ridge-head.
> as the girls stumbled. He walked over to them.
>"The Trakce make wonderful mercenaries but when you need a gentle hand, or
Crow: (as Romulan) ... someone to do windows...
>even a non-harsh one you have to look elsewhere.
Tom: (as Romulan) So we come to you, Enterprise, long known as the wuss
farm of the Galaxy.
> You probably don't know me."
Mike: (as Romulan) ... and that's why I carry the Romulan Express card.
> "Personally, Captain Tomallok, I had no urge to meet you
Crow: (as Marrissa) You series traitor! Ambassador G'Kar, my prepubescent
butt!
Mike: Easy there, Crow.
Tom: Yeah, it's just a show! You should really just relax!
> or your
>three dozen fellow Romulans, much less the two dozen Trakce that I've
>counted thus far," Marrissa replied.
> "This child is quite sharp," Tomallok said to an aide.
Mike: Of course, from his point of view, so is Vinny Barbarino.
> "We will
>have to watch you closely. "You've managed to spot my entire force on Essex,
>congratulations.
Crow: (as Marrissa) For the last time, I already grad-... (normal) Oh,
Ratliff spelled that right this time, too. I'm impressed.
> I assume you are Lieutenant Marrissa Picard, the heir to
>Essex, and your lovely companion is the Engineering wonder Ensign
>Clara Sutter."
Tom: He's not so much an alien as he is a pointy-eared Boris Badenov.
Mike: No, that was that *other* Ratliff story.
Tom: Oh yeah. (Tom shivers)
> "Correct, now as part of my duty as a Lieutenant in Starfleet, I
>must ask you why you are violating treaties between our two governments by
>your armed presence on this Federation Member world?" Marrissa responded.
Crow: (as Tomalak) The usual. Setting ourselves up to be humiliated by you.
You?
> "We are here at the request of the new head of state of Essex,
>King Martin the First," Tomallok replied.
Tom: A King Martin Production.
> "I'm sorry but the head of state isn't a King Martin," Marrissa
>replied. "It's Queen Victoria the First, granddaughter of King George the
>Fourth by his second daughter Princess Isabel.
Mike: (as Marrissa) She can be located in suite 101 at 613 George Street,
in New Brunswick. But don't use any of this information for evil.
Crow: You know, you would think that Essex would recognize *England's*
Queen Victoria as the first.
> Martin is fifth in line."
> "And if by some chance, you've managed to kill her," Clara
>continued. "Then I guess you would be dealing with Queen Marrissa."
Tom: (as Clara) So you've got no logical choice but to kill us both right
now.
> "What if I dispose of you," Tomallok asked Marrissa.
Mike: Tom, Crow and I contribute to your favorite charity! We have money!
> "Then Clara's father becomes King Daniel," Marrissa replied.
Crow: Right now, he's only Jack Daniel.
>"But I don't think you want that to happen."
> "Why is that?"
Tom: (as Marrissa) If an engineer is king, then society becomes "Dilbert"!
> "Because if it does, you won't make it back to Romulus at the
>next prisoner exchange," Marrissa said. "Admiral Picard will tear you
>apart the most painful way he can find."
Mike: (as Picard) Damn you, Tomalak! I needed that engineer!
Tom: Personal vengeance always takes priority over interstellar diplomacy.
Crow: (as Marrissa) He'll make you read a Ratliff/Gonterman crossover.
> "What makes you think I'm going to get captured?" Tomallok
>asked.
> "Perhaps the dozen Starfleet Security Officers who are now
>materializing," Marrissa said as the sound of Transporters filled the air.
Tom: So, the Romulans don't have deflector shields?
Mike: It's that, or they just forgot about them.
>"Time to duck Clara." Marrissa and Clara hit the floor.
Crow: ... and Crow T. Robot hit the wall. When does this fanfic *end*?
Mike: Hang in there, buddy....
>
> Meanwhile about 10 miles up, Data declared, "the Independence is
>entering the system."
Mike: (as Data) They have entered the Yavin system. I think they have
escaped this fanfic entirely.
> Admiral Picard opened a hailing frequecy to the Independence,
>"Enterprise to Independence, glad you join us for awhile."
> Jay Gordon appeared on the screen from his holographic bridge.
>"Admiral, I'm afraid I have bad news,"
Tom: (as Jay) Our lemonade stand was bought out by an international
conglomerate and half the kindergarten was downsized.
> he said. "Not only does the
>cloaked Trakce trail end here but we picked up the trail of a Romulan
>warbird as well about five minutes ago."
Mike: For Independence, they certainly are ineffectual on their own.
> "Shields up," Admiral Picard ordered. "Ensign Szustakowski,
Crow: (as Picard) How on *earth* do you pronounce your name?
>take tactical, Commander Troi, CONN if you will."
Tom: So Troi's orders are just optional.
> As he walked around to his command chair, Data announced,
>"Romulan warbird decloaking."
Crow: (as Data) They are in the Yavin system too.
Tom: (as Picard) Damn! Data, you have to find a way for *us* to get out of
this fanfic!
> "Red Alert," Admiral Picard ordered. "Jay, get ready for battle
>but do not fire until either of us are fired upon. Enterprise out. Hail
>the Romulan."
Mike: (as Picard) By the way, somebody tell Starfleet so they can smack
around the border patrol for screwing up again.
> "No response," was Ensign Szustakowski's response. "They are
>charging weapons." A bolt of green energy shot out toward the Enterprise.
Crow: (as Szustakowski) They are shooting Gatorade at us, this is not a
drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.
>"Direct hit on our starboard shields, shields are at 91 percent."
Tom: (as dumb Jay) Should I fire yet?
> "Fire phasers," Picard ordered. "Counselor, begin evasive
>pattern, Marrissa Mozart Sympany number 23."
Mike: WHAT? Picard's using Marrissa's nomenclature for maneuvers now?
Has he completely lost grasp of reality!? You're an Admiral!
YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN MANEUVERS!
Tom: (as dumb Jay) Should I fire now?
> "Aye sir," the Counselor responded.
Tom: (as dumb Jay) How about now? I... Oh! Wait...
> "Romulan shields are at 81 percent,"
Crow: (as Data) They are replacing their seltzer.
> Data responded. "The
>Independence has joined the battle.
Tom: About time! Sheesh, was Jay waiting for permission from Marrissa or
something?
Mike: Let's see, in "A Royal Wedding", we saw five Federation ships
take out twelve Warbirds, and similar odds back in "A Battle
For Bajor" and "Cadet Cruise", so we're supposed to be
worried when the Romulans are actually outnumbered for a change?
>
> The Romulan warbird tried to switch between the two Galaxy Class
>starships with no success. In fact after the first hit on the Enterprise
>it failed to score another.
Crow: The syrup line was jammed and they could only spray a disappointing
raspberry soda water.
> The evasive patterns were so complex it would
>take a miracle to predict precisely where the Enterprise or Indepedence would
>be next.
Tom: Translation: Stephen isn't keeping track of this either.
> Of coarse
All: D'oh!
> miracles do happen as the Enterprise's shields recieved
>another hit. But the hit was not from the Romulan vessel
Mike: Marrissa is displeased! Run for your lives!
Crow: You know, if Stephen wrote a book about the Battle of Gettysburg, we
would never learn any combat took place.
> "Admiral the Trakce vessel has decloaked and is bearing down on
>us," Data announced.
> "Tell the Independence to go after the Trakce," Picard ordered.
Tom: (as Picard) Use the funny voice.
>
> Apparently the matchup was not mutual on both sides as the
>battle re-alinged themselves. The Romulan was being chased by the Enterprise.
>The Enterprise was being chased by the Trakce ship. The Trakce ship was
>being chased by the Independence.
Mike: The Trakce ship was being chased by a giant rat. The rat was being
chased by a cat. The cat was being chased by a dog. The dog was
being chased by the dog catcher. The dog catcher was being chased
by the cannibal. The cannibal was being chased by the cannibal
police. The cannibal police...
> And finally the Independence was being
>fired on by the Romulan.
Crow: (singing) I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning...
> It was regular circular fire fight above Essex.
Tom: (as Snagglepuss) It was round, even!
Mike: (pulling out a book) Let me know when the pulse-pounding action part
is over, you guys.
>The Romulans had the least shields left but now that it was a circular
>chase, the evasive patters weren't as effective and the Starfleet
>vessels shields where also being drained. To an outside observer the
>Romulan ship looked like it would go first followed by the Starfleet vessels,
>leaving the Trakce behind.
Crow: (racetrack announcer) And it's the Independence in the lead (Mike:
Zoom!) followed by the Romulans (Mike: Zoom!), with the Enterprise
in third (Mike: Zoom!) and the Trakce bringing up the rear. (Mike:
Sputter, sputter! Kaff!)
> Fotunately the tide of the battle was about
>to change.
Tom: They were going to restart from the saved copy of the game.
>
> "Admiral, another ship has entered the system," Data informed.
> "Can you identify it, Data," Jean-Luc Picard asked.
> "It is a Miranda class starship," Data said. "Markings indicate
>it is the Papal vessel Trinity."
Mike: (as Romulans) Oh no, the vessel of the leader of a religion whose
tenets include peace and love for all! Run!
Crow: Well, it wasn't always that way....
Mike: No Catholic bashing, Crow.
> "The Pope, just what we need,
Tom: (ironically bitter) ... the sacrament of holy Eucharist.
> bystanders," Picard moaned.
> "The Trinity is charging weapons," Data announced.
> "Weapons on the Pope's ship!?"
Mike: (as Data) All right, sir. Locking weapons on the Trinity.
[Commercials: Another psychic hotline one. They have controlling interest
in the Sci-Fi Channel, you know.]
[Continued in Part 5]