MiSTed: Ratliff's "Time Speeder" (3/4)

[Mike Barklage]

-- CONTINUED FROM PART 2 --

6... 5... 4... 3... 2... *...

[Mike and the bots enter the theater.]

MIKE: Did I mention that we were already in *Reader's* Hell?
TOM: Oh, we already knew that.

> Chapter Five

CROW: Already? I don't think five things have happened yet.

>
> Captain's Log
> STARDATE unknown, July 27,1996
> Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard recording.

TOM: Maybe she'll self-destruct in five seconds.

> Having followed the USS Eagle back in time to prevent them from
> altering the future and give them a speeding ticket,

MIKE: <stands up, looks around the theater> It must say *somewhere* that
a writer has to have some sense of self-irony. Doesn't it?

> I find myself with
> a dilemma.

CROW: One or two sugars in my Earl Grey?

> Do I interfere or not.

ALL: INTERFERE.
MIKE: Come on. We all know how this will turn out.
TOM: Has the Prime Directive *ever* had any effect on the decision of a
Starfleet captain?

> However, I've never left anything to
> chance so I'm beaming down in period custom to try to prevent them from
> interfering.

CROW: Whoops, there's a little mistake in the history files!

> Fortunately, Wesley has an acquaintance in this time
> period who he believes may be of help.

TOM: His name is Newt Gingrich, and he's used to talking to aliens from
the future.

> I am leaving Lieutenant
> Katherine Lochard in command while I'm away from the Stargazer.
>
> "Are you sure this guy Bill will believe us?" Marrissa asked.

MIKE: Bill Gates believes in aliens and the power of positive thought, so why
not time-traveling Federation officers?

> "After all it does sound a little farfetched. Time traveling because we
> where chasing a speeder, it's almost ridiculous."

CROW: Almost. <pauses, then quietly whimpers>

> "Ever here of a television series called Star Trek?" Wes
> replied.

TOM: Yeah. I hear it sucks.
MIKE: Wait a second. "Star Trek: the TV show" doesn't exist in the Trek
universe. How would Wesley know about it?

> "No television isn't something that I have had time to study,"
> Marrissa said.

CROW: Too bad Ratliff couldn't say the same thing.

> "You probably wouldn't have come across it," Wes said. "Viacom
> Interplanetary put their copies of the series under timelock when events
> predicted in it began coming true.

ALL: <dumbfounded silence>
TOM: WHAT?!

> The original of the forty-eight
> series to date was re-released last year. The prediction of the future
> was amazingly correct with the exception of some controls and make up.

TOM: NO! I *refuse* to believe that the bunch of overpaid idiots that make
up the current writing staffs of the Trek franchise are more prophetic
than the Book of Revelations! Aside from the fact that most of the
events and technologies depicted in Trek are patently *impossible* by
the laws of nature, are *you* prepared to proclaim morons like Brannon
Braga and Jeri Taylor the second comings of Nostradamus?!
MIKE: Are you finished?
TOM: <pant, pant> Sorry. I have to rant at least once per MiSTing. It's
in my contract.

> On the planet below, the Next Generation, which covers the Enterprise-D
> is just about to have it's second movie released.

CROW: And we're all *so* excited about that, I can assure you.

> Deep Space Nine is
> entering it's fifth season and Voyager has been lost in the Delta
> Quadrant for three years."

MIKE: Voyager's also been lost in the ratings for three years.
TOM: And Gene Roddenberry's original ideas have been lost for about ten years.

> "How close were they to my history?" Marrissa asked.

CROW: <Marrissa> Who cares about them? I wanna know about me, ME, *ME*!

> "You appear in one episode of the Next Generation titled
> 'Disaster'," Wes replied.

MIKE: An appropriate title if I ever heard one.

> "The rest of your career is covered quite
> nicely in what is referred to as 'fan fiction'."

TOM: Actually, it's covered quite horribly in what is referred to as "hideous
writing."
CROW: Ego trip's over, Steve.

> "And yourself?" Marrissa asked.
> "I'm afraid my character was hated by some fans known as
> 'Trekkers'," Wesley said.

MIKE: And also by some other people known as 'the rest of the human race.'
TOM: Wesley, face it - you were hated by everybody. Even Star Trek haters
didn't like you.

> "Some of the nicknames they gave me were
> quite creative.

CROW: Like... Weasel Wheaton?
MIKE: Stinkybutt dum-dum?
TOM: Dickweed?
GYPSY: <from off-stage> Poopie-head?
MAGIC VOICE: <from the ceiling of the theater> That Annoying Putz?

> But that's another topic,

MIKE: A far more interesting topic.

> right now you need to know
> why Bill will trust us.

TOM: He's an idiot.

> Besides the fact I've visited him before, he is
> also a Trekker, and knows Star Trek backward and forward.

CROW: Kert Rats, Star Trek.

> Coincidentally the Star Trek the Next Generation episode in which you
> appear is on right now.

MIKE: This is Ratliff. Everything that happens is a coincidence.
CROW: You know, someone once said that a coincidence is God's idea of a joke.
TOM: No, Crow. Ratliff's stories are God's idea of a joke.

> He'll probably be watching it when we arrive."

MIKE: Good thing Wes has intimate knowledge of the TV schedules for the
Washington DC area.

>
> The television was on in the room which Marrissa and Wesley
> beamed down into.

CROW: I'd make a comment about a dangling participle, but Ratliff would
probably think we're being dirty.

> A man with almost white hair was seated before the
> television on a sofa.

TOM: It's Christopher Lloyd!

> "What?" he said, putting the Big Mac that he had
> been eating down. "Oh, it's you Wes, who's your girl friend?"

MIKE: Guy named Bill... white hair... eats Big Macs... hits on young women...
CROW: Guys, I have a bad feeling about this.

> "Actually she's my stepsister,

TOM: <white-haired man> Oh - so she's fair game?

> Lieutenant Commander Marrissa
> Picard, that girl who the Captain, my step-father, is about to make his
> 'Number One',"

CROW: Well, there *weren't* any bathrooms in that damaged turbolift...
MIKE: CROW!
CROW: What?
MIKE: <pause> That sounded dirty, but I have no idea what it means.
CROW: Neither do I.
TOM: We're probably better off that way.

> Wesley said indicating the view of Captain Jean-Luc
> Picard pinning a couple rank pins to Marrissa's outfit on the
> television.

TOM: <background> Ow-- watch those things!

> "Marrissa, this is President William Jefferson Clinton,
> also known as Bill."

ALL: AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGH!
CROW: *Just* when I thought Ratliff couldn't get any worse...

> "Always willing to meet an friend of Wes's, he has been a great
> help to this country," the President replied.

MIKE: <Wes> I showed him how to dial 900 numbers for free.

> At Marrissa's glance Wes said, "I'll explain that later,
> Marrissa.

TOM: <Desi Arnez> Wesley, you got some 'splaining to do...

> Bill, we believe some people from the 24th century are trying
> to sink NASA."

ALL: GOOD!

> "Why would they do that?" Bill replied. "I know you can't tell
> me.

CROW: If you knew that, then why ask?

> How do you think they are going to do it?"
> "Our leading method is their going to influence some members of
> the House of the Representatives," Marrissa replied. "Probably, using
> some method which is not exactly legal."

MIKE: NO! Say it ain't so!
TOM: Not legal? The bastards!

> "I think it's time to reactivate plan Oklahoma," Wes said.

TOM: You! Put on a farmer costume! You! Start singing!

> "Don't let anyone, ever members of Congress, bring any object of size
> into the Capital Building."

CROW: Does Ratliff think that the security guards in the Capitol building
let people waltz in with anything?

> "I then everyone will think their has been a bomb threat but
> really we will be looking for large sums of cash and other methods of
> conversion," Bill Clinton replied.

MIKE: We'll have to search everyone for holy water.

> "But you'll have to cover any twenty
> fourth century methods."
> "That shouldn't be a problem, if I have the right accesses,"
> Marrissa responded. "After all I have a whole Constellation Class
> Starship at my disposal."

TOM: <Marrissa> And three more at my townhouse. Impressed?

> Bill Clinton did a double take.

CROW: Chins a-flappin'!

> "You have a starship?" he said.

MIKE: They just *beamed into* the White House, and Clinton the Star Trek fan
already knows Wesley Crusher, but he's surprised that there's a starship
involved?
CROW: I think Ratliff thinks everyone is as dim as he is.
TOM: <British accent> We called him Dim, on account of his being dim.

> "The Stargazer, NCC-2893," Marrissa said.

CROW: <Marvin Martian> It can cleave your puny planet in two.

> "The Captain and first
> officer haven't arrived yet.

TOM: <Marrissa> And if my agents are successful, they never will.

> I'm second officer. It occurs to me that
> you'll need to contact me sometime in the next couple of days, so."

MIKE: <Marrissa> Of course, *everyone* wants to talk to me. I'm just so
popular! Did I tell you I had 18 dates to the prom? I did, you know.
I just didn't want to go.

> Marrissa pulled a second communicator out of her pocket. "Take this
> communicator,

CROW: Oh, honey, don't give future technology to the natives. They'll just
go and incite a temporal paradox.

> I assume I won't have to explain how to use it?"

TOM: You tap it, then talk.
CROW: Or you don't tap it, then talk.
MIKE: Or you tap it, and somebody else talks.
TOM: Or you don't tap it to complete a conversation, but the channel is
magically cut anyway.
MIKE: We've never been too clear on how it works, ourselves.

> "If you had to I wouldn't have been watching Star Trek for the
> last nine years," Bill said.

CROW: So *that's* what he's been doing instead of making good decisions and
providing sound leadership.

> "I should have everything in place in an
> hour.

TOM: <Clinton> Just so long as... *urp*... I can stop off beforehand
at McDonald's for a couple of Family Meals...

> If you need to install anything, let me know I can get you the
> documents you need to do so."

MIKE: Oh yeah? Tell that to Al D'Amato.

> "I don't think that will be a problem," Marrissa said. "A
> little work with the Transporter will be all it takes. However I might
> need a place in Washington to beam my security officers down once I find
> those time travelers."

TOM: Send Marrissa into Bob Dornan's office - he's from outer space already,
so she should be right at home.

> "I'll arrange for a suite in the Executive Office Building," the
> President said. "First floor with it's own exit."

MIKE: <Clinton> I use it for certain late-night encounters with...
uh, never mind.

> "That should be all, Wes?" Marrissa asked.
> "I can't think of anything," Wesley replied. "Bill, give my
> love to Chelsea."

CROW: Um... I really hope there's nothing going on between Wes and Chelsea.
TOM: If there is, my head's going to explode. That'd be the last straw.
MIKE: I'll take it one step further: if there is, *my* head will explode.

> "I will, Wes," Bill replied. "Just make sure you stop in more
> often."

TOM: Just another lying politician...

> "That's a promise," Wes replied and nodded toward Marrissa.
> Marrissa tapped her communicator and said, "Picard to Stargazer,
> two to beam up."
> As they dematerialized President Clinton said, "That's one nice
> sister, Wes has."

CROW: Nice? You obviously don't know her very well.

>
> On board the Eagle Boris was getting nervous.

MIKE: <nervous> What am I still doing in this piece of cow flop? Why haven't
I been written out yet??

> "Boris, I don't
> think we will be leaving the area around Jupiter anytime soon," the man
> at the helm said.

TOM: <helm> Heh, I forgot to gas up...

> "That craft, what ever it is just too good at cutting
> me off."

CROW: So? Just flip them off and get off at the next exit.

> "Well we don't have to return to Earth until after the third,"
> Boris replied. "So you and your relief have five days to get us free."

MIKE: Let me get this straight. They're surrounded by the infinite depths
of space, capable of bending space itself using their warp drive,
but they are somehow completely trapped by half of a single starship?
TOM: That's what Ratliff would have you believe.

>
> On board the Warp Pair Detectable Craft nicknamed the Star,

CROW: The White Star?

> Lieutenant Sam Lavelle was enjoying command.

TOM: Woo-hoo! No Marrissa! Party on, everybody!

> He was also admiring the
> abilities of the young ensign at CONN.

MIKE: <Lavelle> Wow! I didn't know it was *possible* do that with three
pencils and a jar of hot wax!

> "Ensign Hijanda, where did you
> learn how to block ships like that?" he asked.

CROW: <Hijanda> Oh, I studied directing at Tisch.

> "I was the first female running back on the Starfleet Academy
> football team," Hijanda replied.

TOM: So she's either built like bull moose, or that was the year the Starfleet
Academy football team went 0-17.

> "I'm simply blocking the routes I'd
> like to take if this was a football field."

MIKE: Well, a really big, three-dimensional football field with no boundaries
and only two players and no football.

> "You were on the Academy football team?" Lavelle exclaimed.
> "Usually that team is made up of security cadets with the occasional
> command cadet in at Quarterback, not running back. And as for females,
> usually they don't even tryout."

TOM: <Chicago accent> It ain't dat wimmen ain't welcome on Da Bearsss - dey
just can't make da cut, ya know.
CROW: <Chicago accent> Well, dere was dat one woman - what's her name?
MIKE: <Chicago accent> Michelle Singletary.
CROW: <Chicago accent> Yah, dat's right. She made da team.

> "So I'm the exception," Hijanda replied. "Every rule has one,
> or so I'm told."

CROW: For every regulation, there is an equal and opposite plot hole.

> "And our Lieutenant Commander Picard is the exception to a lot
> of them," Lavelle responded.

MIKE: Child labor statutes, murder laws, the Golden Rule...

> "She is? I've never met her," Hijanda returned.

TOM: Oh, lucky you.

> "Well, our second officer is fifteen years old," Sam Lavelle
> began. "She is heir to the throne of Essex, and hence has a clearance
> of level fourteen.

CROW: Which means she can watch 90210 whenever she wants.

> She's also in charge of the Kid's crew program,

MIKE: <Hijanda> Oh, so *she's* the one to blame for that.

> and the only person on the ship who isn't of legal age to drink.

TOM: Of course, that doesn't stop the little lush.

> Princess Marrissa is one big

CROW: ...pain in the ass?

> exception."

CROW: Oh.

> "Sounds like this ship is going to be a very interesting place
> to be assigned," Hijanda responded. "Vulcan Captain, Cardassian First
> Officer, and a Second Officer who isn't old enough to drink." Hijanda
> shook her head.

MIKE: <Hijanda> We're doomed!

> "That's one thing for certain about the Stargazer," Lavelle
> said.

TOM: We're the most hated ship in Starfleet, and it's all Marrissa's fault.

> "She's one interesting ship."

CROW: ...but stupid.

>
> As Wes and Marrissa materialized in the transporter room,
> Marrissa ordered,

MIKE: "You! Lick me!"

> "Admiral Scott, begin operation Bug Congress.

TOM: Does this bug you? I'm not touching you...

> Lieutenant Crusher, I want to see you in my office in thirty minutes.

CROW: <John Cleese> Yes, *dear*... coming *dear*... how can I do it if you
keep calling me about it, you great fat cow...

> Admiral, what's the status of Lieutenant Ross Lockard's security teams?"
> "Their outfits are ready," the Admiral began.

MIKE: We're just putting the finishing touches on the runway.

> "The phasers have
> been modified to look like regular guns.

TOM: We've even added that unrealistic booming noise they use on TV.
MIKE: Of course, if anyone sees these "guns," they'll be arrested anyway,
so why bother?

> Ross is training them on the holodeck now."
> "Thanks Scotty," Marrissa said. "If anyone needs me I'll be in
> my quarters."

CROW: ...taking a bath in a tub of vodka.

>
> A half-an-hour later Wesley Crusher entered his sister's
> quarters. "Very nicely done, sister," was is comment as he entered.

TOM: <Wes> Wow, you can really stack those beer cans, Marrissa!

> "You aren't here to admire my quarters, Lieutenant," Lieutenant
> Commander Picard commented.

MIKE: Which ones, head or hind?

> "You are here to explain that comment by
> the President. 'he has been a great help to this country.'"

CROW: Oh, he was thinking of "Stand By Me." He really likes that movie.

> "Actually it's quite simple," Wes said.

TOM: The huge demand for "Kill Wesley" buttons revitalized the sagging paper
industry.

> "I was sent by the
> Traveler a month ago to a time just about two months before now. I was
> to thwart a Romulan plan to alter Earth history.

MIKE: He was trying to convince Rick Berman to write cooler Romulan weapons
into the shows.

> I successful identified the Romulan agent

CROW: He was the one with the pointed ears. It was pretty easy.

> who was trying to make it look like the
> United States had plans to invade every country in the world.

TOM: And nothing could be farther from the truth, as witnessed by the
countries of Korea, Vietnam, Grenada, Panama, Iraq, Somalia, Bosnia...

> The agent was captured and thoroughly exposed.

MIKE: Thereby getting his sensitive Romulan area completely sunburned.

> I took the agent back to his
> proper time where his government executed him for failure."

CROW: So I guess taking him back was kind of a waste of time.

> "That sounds like what the Romulans would do to such a person,"
> Marrissa said.

TOM: That'll happen. Ha ha!

> "But what about his comment concerning his daughter
> Chelsea?"
> "An unfortunate side-effect, I kind of fell in love with her
> last time," Wes said.

[Mike's head explodes.]

TOM: Ewww!
CROW: Oh, gross! There's hair and stuff everywhere!

[Mike ducks under the seats. When he reappears, he has a head again.]

MIKE: Well, I'm not gonna try *that* again... it kinda hurts.
TOM: At least you were true to your word, Mike.

> "Leaving her was quite hard,

CROW: She's the only girl I've ever known who didn't automatically
snicker-snag on me.

> but the Traveler
> said I would eventually marry her, so it wasn't too bad."

TOM: Let's see... Chelsea is 16, and Wes is, what, mid-20's?
MIKE: Yes, it's another one of Ratliff's May-January romances.

> "How you are going to accomplish such a feet is beyond me, but
> then much of what you do is beyond me," Marrissa replied.

CROW: The way you dress, for example. And peeing standing up.

> "I have to admit that you do allot of things that are beyond
> me," Wesley said.

TOM: <Wes> I have to admit it, or you'll hurt me.

> "Lets see, diplomacy,

MIKE: Yeah, locking ambassadors in a room and threatening them with physical
violence shows a lot of diplomatic skill.

> those evasive maneuvers you make,

CROW: The way you pout your lips in that sultry way...

> inspiring that Kid's crew of yours,

TOM: Fear is a great motivator.

> and you have more friends than I ever had."

MIKE: You're confusing 'friends' with 'subordinates.'

> "But you timetravel," Marrissa responded.
> "Don't look now,

CROW: ...but the story's about to get worse.

> but I think you are in the twentieth century,
> and you and your ship got here you here without any assistance from me,"
> Wes said.

TOM: <Wes> I may help keep you here, though.

> "Yeah, but you don't need a twenty quadrillion dollar starship
> to do it," Marrissa replied.

MIKE: Well, it's good to see that American currency and inflation are still
dominant in the 24th century.

>
> Chapter Six

CROW: If you've written six stupid plot contrivances this morning, why not
top it off with breakfast at the Restaurant of Bad Fanfics?

>
> The Stargazer had just moved into morning, when the President
> called. "President Clinton to Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard," he
> said over his communicator.

TOM: <Clinton> You got any doughnuts in that spaceship?

> Marrissa answered after swallowing her last bite of strawberry
> toast, "Marrissa here, how can I help you Mister President?"

MIKE: Looks like Steve is vicariously living yet another fantasy through
Marrissa.
TOM: That's better than a fantasy *of* Marrissa...
MIKE: But not by much.

> "My advisors have just informed me that Congress has taken up
> the matter of cutting NASA," the President said.

CROW: <Clinton> They also inform me that Saddam Hussein is violently
overthrowing the Middle East, but this is much more important.

> "They say that it
> looks like most of the Senate is in favor of it.

TOM: <Clinton> Me, I think I'll waffle some more.
CROW: He's Willy the Waffle! <whistle>

> I think we may need to revise our plans."
> "I'll be down with some of my staff in an hour," Marrissa said.
> "I suggest you an Chelsea met us in the Oval Office."

MIKE: Great. Chelsea will be about as useful as a fifth wheel.

> "Excellent idea, Commander," the President replied. "I'll have
> everything prepared."

TOM: <Clinton> Hope you like french fries, 'cause that's what we're having!

>
> "Are you sure it's wise for all of us to beam down," Admiral
> Scott asked as he, Ross, Wesley, and Marrissa got up on the transporter
> disks.

CROW: No, but this is Star Trek. Wise doesn't matter.

> "Would you rather I beam them up here?" Marrissa asked.

MIKE: Why not? All these little planet-side meetings violate the Prime
Directive anyway...

> "Kathy
> can take care of the Stargazer well enough if something should happen to
> us. Energize."

TOM: Sadly, due to Ensign Wiffle's degenerating hearing, they were turned into
pink bunnies with bass drums.

> The four materialized inside the Oval Office. President Bill
> Clinton and his daughter Chelsea were waiting for them. "'Morning,
> everyone," the President said.

ALL: NORM!

> "Mister President, I believe some introductions are in order,"
> Marrissa said.

MIKE: It wouldn't be a Ratliff story without a few dozen repeat introductions.

> "I better start with myself, since Chelsea hasn't met
> me. I'm Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard, acting commanding officer
> of the Stargazer.

CROW: Let's see now... one, two, three, four... five. She only referred to
herself five times in those three sentences - that's two below her
average.

> This is Rear-Admiral Montgomery Scott, my acting
> Chief Engineer.

TOM: With the emphasis on *rear*.

> Lieutenant junior grade Wesley Crusher, you know.

MIKE: <Chelsea> *sighs* Yes, unfortunately.

> And rounding out my team is

CROW: The other side of Admiral Scott.

> Lieutenant Ross Lochard, our Chief Tactical
> Officer. Gentlemen, this is President Bill Clinton and his daughter
> Chelsea.

TOM: Yes, Ratliff introduces characters... and keeps introducing them.

> Shall we get down to business?"
> "Yes," Clinton said indicating that they should sit in the sofas
> surrounding a coffee table. After they were all seated, he began,
> "After you visited me last night, an aide came to me with an urgent pole

ALL: <bust up laughing>
MIKE: Is it too juvenile of us to find stuff like that funny?
TOM: Hey, works for me...

> on recent items which Congress was considering cutting. After your
> visit, I wasn't surprised to hear that NASA was at the top of the list.
> However, I was surprised to here that 90 Senators favored cutting it."

CROW: Good lord! How'd they get that many Democrats and Republicans to
vote the same way on *anything*?

> "That is a problem, we've got to make sure it isn't cut,"
> Marrissa said.

TOM: <singing Groucho Marx-style> Whatever it is, I'm against it!

> "That was my thought as well," Clinton said.

MIKE: There goes Clinton, stealing someone else's ideas yet again.

> "However changing
> 40 or so Senators minds hasn't been easy since the Republicans got
> control of the Senate and the House a couple years ago."

CROW: Sure it has -- just claim you're from the tobacco lobby, and they'll do
anything you say!

> "It sounds like you need some personal lobbyists," Marrissa
> said.

TOM: Apparently the entire presidential staff has been eaten by grues.

> "Exactly," the President responded. "I though maybe you could
> help."

MIKE: So in Ratliff's version of reality, Bill Clinton is the only good guy
in Washington, Hilary doesn't exist, and Chelsea is one hot mama.
CROW: Yep. This is like one of those bizarre 50's sitcoms where there's a
dad and some kids, but no Mom.
TOM: "Clinton Knows Best?" Or maybe "Leave it to Chelsea?"
CROW: Exactly.

> "We can't do it alone," Marrissa said. "But maybe if we pair up
> with some of your people.

TOM: We'll hold a mixer. It'll be fun!

> And if we don't have any effect you might
> want to consider a press conference,

MIKE: Yeah, Clinton *never* holds one of those.

> I've used them to my advantage in the past."
> "Pairing up sounds like a good idea,

CROW: Uh, not *that* kind of 'pairing up,' Bill...

> that way we'd be sure that
> they knew where the appeal was coming from," Clinton replied.

TOM: I thought the whole point of the disguises and stuff was so they
*wouldn't* know.

> "Then I suggest you and I pair up and Wes and Chelsea do the
> same," Marrissa organized.

ALL: YAH!
MIKE: Don't *say* that!

> "Ross will pose as a body guard for your
> wife when she does here part, not that is very far from the truth."

CROW: Not good Ratliff command English, or so here part from the truth.

> "In fact that might be a good cover for Lieutenant Crusher as
> well," Ross suggested.

TOM: Somehow I can't picture Wesley as a security guard and keep a straight
face.

> "But what cover can you use, Commander?"

MIKE: Oh, the usual -- Queen of the Universe.

> "Me, well I'm one of Chelsea's friends that the President agreed
> to show around Congress," Marrissa smiled.

CROW: What about the intense media coverage every move of the President
generates?
TOM: Maybe the whole DC press corps was eaten by grues too.

> "Right Chelsea?"
> "Sounds fine with me," Chelsea said. "Just don't make to many
> comments about me."

MIKE: That's *our* job!

> "Yeah, I don't want to fall out of my cover," Marrissa said.

CROW: ...and into a dry martini?

> "Before we begin, I suggest that Chelsea might be able to improve my
> cover so If you don't mind I'll leave with her.

TOM: <Clinton, muttering> Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

> Admiral, beam back to
> the Stargazer and relieve Kathy. She needs her rest."

MIKE: She's been hopping up and down with her legs crossed for the past
three hours.

> "All right then we will hit Capital hill in an hour," the
> President said.
>
> Marrissa and President Clinton hit the Hill.

CROW: Body parts were later found strewn over several acres.

> They began walking
> from office to office courting votes.

TOM: <vaudevillian voice> My darling vote, let me count the ways I love you....

> In Senator Warner of Virginia's
> office, they met the Senator, and quite oddly,

MIKE: ...he didn't drop an anvil on them.

> his Democratic
> counterpart, Robb.

CROW: <sigh> Ratliff, do you know *anything* about politics? Robb and Warner
*hate* each other. They wouldn't be caught *dead* together.

> "I don't know how you get by without a desk,"
> Senator Robb said. "I mean there is no place to do any work here."

TOM: Oh, like *that's* a problem for Chuck Robb.

> "And nothing between myself and my constituency," Warner
> replied.

MIKE: Except his Calvins?

> "It's a grand idea, Senator, but it won't work in the Oval
> Office," President Clinton said entering the room. "The door was open
> so I thought I'd see what you were up too."

CROW: Let me guess, Bill - the door to the FBI files room was "open," too,
right?

> "Well, Mister President, I didn't expect to see you on the hill
> today," Robb responded.

TOM: <Robb> I thought you were already over it.

> "Who's your companion?"

MIKE: ...and is she of legal age?

> "This is Marrissa, one of Chelsea's friends," Clinton replied.
> "I promised to show her around the halls of government."

CROW: And, as President, I really didn't have anything else to do.

> "So that's what brings you around here," Warner said. "To see
> the oddest office on the Hill."

TOM: Yeah, why *are* you working out of a water tower?

> "Actually I'm killing two birds, or in this case

MIKE: ...two idiots.

> three with one
> stone," the President said. "I here you both are considering voting to
> eliminate funding for NASA."
> "Yes, I just don't see the benefit to the American people,"
> Warner replied.

CROW: <Clinton> Well then, you're a big poopie-head.

> "I think your wrong Senator," Clinton began. "It has provided
> jobs. It has provided scientific advances.

TOM: Remember Tang? Everyone loves Tang!

> And most of all,

MIKE: ...it's provided years of pork!

> a working
> effective space program is a source of inspiration and encouragement to
> all Americans.

CROW: Wouldn't it be neat if we had one?

> The people need some exploration, they need something
> new around the corner."

TOM: The people need the great tasting freshness of Thunderbird.

> "We need to see someone seeking out new worlds, someone boldly
> going where we've never gone before," Marrissa added.

MIKE: Someone boldly spouting cliches where many have spouted them before.

> "What about the cost?" Senator Robb said.

CROW: Yeah! And the inefficiency and red tape and political backstabbing and
occasional exploding shuttle?

> "What about the cost of it's loss," Clinton replied "Millions
> will lose their jobs."

TOM: *Millions*? Oh, I seriously doubt that figure...
CROW: Hey, Steve, check your facts before writing an impassioned political
argument.
MIKE: Are you kidding? Ratliff can't even check his *spelling*!

> "Not to mention the loss of inspiration," Marrissa continued.

TOM: Christa MacAuliffe's fate certainly inspired me never to fly Air NASA.

> "Senators, some things seem to be easy to cut," Clinton said.

CROW: Cheese, for one.

> "NASA is not as easy of a cut as one would think.

MIKE: <Scandahoovian> Oh yah hey, better use dat der circular saw fer dat.

> You cut jobs,
> millions go on welfare, raising costs of that program.

CROW: What?! Assuming NASA was *completely* shut down -- which it never
would be -- the laid-off engineers and bureaucrats would almost
certainly be able to find jobs in the suddenly-opened corporate space
exploration business! And even if they couldn't, there's always the
cushy government layoff plan to fall back on! They wouldn't go on
*welfare*, fer crying out loud!!
TOM: Nice rant, Crow! Almost as good as mine!

> You cut the inspiration, you lose hope.

MIKE: Yeah, as if the average American cares one *iota* about whether NASA
is able to conduct further experiments about the mating habits of
hamsters in zero-gravity...

> And gentlemen, hope is something you don't
> want to lose.

TOM: Thank you, President Obvious.

> So can I count on the Gentlemen from Virginia to vote
> against any such cut?"

CROW: <Warner> I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. Could you repeat that?

> "You have my vote, Mister President," Senator Robb replied.

MIKE: Boy, Congressmen are *easy* to convince!

> "Mine as well, but before you go, I want to know," Warner
> asked. "Are you planning on hitting all the Senators?"

TOM: <mobster> Yeah. We're gonna whack `em all.

> "No, I've got 34 now 35 on my list, as Senator Robb was on my
> wife's list," Clinton said. "My wife has 32 now and Chelsea has 33, the
> ones I thought would be easier to convince."

CROW: You know the chicks can't handle real work.

> "You've got your daughter involved?" Robb inquired.

MIKE: Hey, it wasn't my call. One of the author's secret fantasies, I guess.

> "It's a more personal visit than an aid," Clinton said.

TOM: ...huh?

> "Plus, she's good and convincing people.

CROW: <Clinton> I almost believe her when she says she loves me.

> Just last night she convinced me to
> let her stay out past ten."

MIKE: Ah, the rich comedic wit of Stephen Ratliff. And it's all ours!

> "Remember that, John, next time we need to convince the
> President," Robb replied.

TOM: Okay, Marsha.

>
> "Senator Kennedy, I bring a personal message from my father,"
> Chelsea said entering the Senior Senator from Massachusetts's office.

CROW: He says, "Party tonight at Delta Delta Delta. Bring the keg."
TOM: This is like sending a message by Boy Scout to Michael Jackson!

> "And what does our beloved President have to say," Senator
> Kennedy asked.
> "He's wondering why you of all people would chose to cut funding
> for NASA," Chelsea replied.

MIKE: <Kennedy> Have you seen the women involved with NASA? Phew!
Dog's breakfast!

> "Because a poll that some of my constitutes presented indicated
> that was a program they would like cut," Kennedy replied.

TOM: Well, Ratliff got *one* aspect of Congressional life right, at least.

> "Where these constitutes a brown haired man in his thirties and
> an blond haired man in his twenties?" Chelsea asked. "The brown haired
> man wearing a gray suit with a orange tie.

ALL: Eww...
CROW: Well, if he can still see, it wasn't them.

> The blond a blue suit with a
> Spock tie."
> "Yes, I believe they were," Kennedy said.

MIKE: He followed the advice of someone wearing a *Spock tie*?!
TOM: Hey, if they have money, he's all ears.

> "Wes, didn't we run across them in Senator Braun of Illinois's
> office?" Chelsea asked.

CROW: Didn't we leave some lovely tire tracks on them?

> "Yes, and Senator Glenn's and Senator Bradley's as well," Wes
> replied.
> "Personally Senator, I wouldn't trust any poll from them.

MIKE: They're with CNN.

> The can't be from Illinois, Iowa, Ohio and Massachusetts," Chelsea added.
> "Plus it would sound rather bad if you voted for eliminating NASA."
> "How so?" Senator Edward Kennedy asked.

TOM: Well, we'll run out of green cheese, and it'll be all your fault!

> "'We chose to go to the Moon', ring a bell," Chelsea asked.

CROW: But if you went to the moon and rung a bell, you couldn't hear it.

> Kennedy grimaced, "You have a point. Tell the President that I
> won't be voting for such a measure. In fact the moment someone
> introduces such a major, they will receive a serious reply from me.

MIKE: "Hic!"
CROW: There's a first time for everything, I suppose.

> In fact I'll filibuster on that measure until I receive word that it will
> not pass from the President.

TOM: So the first and only heroic act in this fanfic is a filibuster?
MIKE: Looks that way, Tommy.
TOM: Great.

> Now if you don't mind, I've got to prepare
> for the longest filibuster in the History of the United States."

CROW: <Kennedy> I'm going to read Stephen Ratliff's entire collection of
stories!
ALL: NO!
TOM: He wants to filibuster, not kill them all!

>
> Chapter Seven
>
> Captain's Log
> July 29th, 1996
> Lieutenant Commander Marrissa Picard recording
> We enter our third day tracking down the time travelers. We now
> have a picture of our opponents.

MIKE: Unfortunately, it's by Leroy Neiman, so it looks like some large
circus animal was violently ill.

> The leader is a brown eyed, brown
> haired man in his thirties.

TOM: Oh, that narrows it down.

> His companion is blond and in his forties.
> The leader is named Lyam or James and wears a gray suit with an orange
> tie.

CROW: I guess humanity loses its fashion sense in the future.
TOM: How else can you explain all those doofy jumpsuits?
MIKE: Hey!

> His companion wears a blue suit with a Spock tie.

MIKE: If we catch this pair, we'll be ready to go after Carmen Sandiego.

> We have recruited several allies in our battle, but only the
> President knows were we are from.

CROW: Earth, as I recall.

> Senators Kennedy of Massachusetts,
> Robb and Warner of Virginia, Braun of Illinois are

TOM: ...the Four Horsemen of the Budget Apocalypse - they never saw a
tax increase they didn't like.

> preparing to
> filibuster on our behalf until we can insure the failure of the
> eliminate NASA amendment.

MIKE: Well, if they fail to eliminate it, there's always a high colonic.

> I wish the Speaker of the House hadn't
> decided to work on next year's budget early.

CROW: Now I *know* I'm reading a fantasy story -- he hasn't finished up
*last* year's budget yet!

>
> "Quarter Master Greig

TOM: Grignr? Is he in this, too?
CROW: It wouldn't surprise me.

> to Lieutenant Commander Picard," came the
> call while Marrissa sipped some strawberry soda in the conference
> lounge.

MIKE: What is it with the strawberries?? This is like the Ratliff equivalent
of angora sweaters!
TOM: I have a theory about the strawberries.
CROW: Oh, do tell.
TOM: I think strawberries are what gives Marrissa the power to bend reality
to her will and dominate the universe.
CROW: Nah. That power comes from Ratliff's unhealthy fascination with
domineering teenage girls.

> She had been going over the organization of the Congress to
> help her better understand the mess, it wasn't making it much easier.

MIKE: House Minority Whip, Speaker of the House, Electoral College...
who planned this thing, Bozo the Clown?

> "Go ahead, Quarter Master," Marrissa responded.

TOM: <barbarian> It is I, Grignr, Master of Quarters!

> "You had me looking for matches for that mystery man we caught a
> picture of leaving Senator Glenn's office," the Quarter Master replied.
> "I've found a match."

CROW: Good work. Now go light the pilot light.

> "Good, send all the information you have on him to the
> Conference lounge below the Bridge," Marrissa said. "And thanks for
> helping us out. I know such duty isn't normally the Quarter Masters."

MIKE: And while you're at it, go fetch me a pail of prop wash, will you?

> "It was my pleasure, every once in a while I need to break up
> the routine and this was a refreshing change for a while," the Quarter
> Master replied.

TOM: <Greig> Now I can return to laundry duty knowing there are far more
ridiculous ways I could spend my time.

> "Thanks again, Commander Picard out," Marrissa said, she was
> finally getting use to using here last name. On the Enterprise, since
> there where three Picards the crew made things easier by referring to
> her as

CROW: ...Queen Stinky-Pants.

> Marrissa, Doctor Beverly Picard as the Doctor,

MIKE: She wasn't as good as Tom Baker, though.

> and of coarse her
> father got to use the last name, rank hath it's privileges.

TOM: So says Ratliff. I can't wait until someone in his stories realizes
that high rank brings responsibility and worry, too.
MIKE: It'll never happen.

> The data on
> this Lyam Sympton wasn't very enlightening.

CROW: Neither are Ratliff's fanfics, but we have to read them anyway.

> He was an ordinary citizen,
> his only vice seemed to be a intense dislike for Starfleet.

MIKE: That's a big check in his favor, in my book.
TOM: I'm starting to like this guy more and more!

> Could it be
> that he hated it to the point that he was willing to risk time travel to
> change the past, possibly changing history so he was never born?

CROW: Mmmmm... nah.

>
> "Enjoying Command Kathy?" Marrissa asked entering the Bridge.

TOM: Not as much as Command is enjoying Kathy!
CROW: ZING!

> "Yes, but I thought I was assigned as a fighter wing commander,"
> Kathy replied, getting up from the Command Chair.

MIKE: They wouldn't trust me with a *whole* fighter, oh, no...

> "Don't bother, I'm just checking in before another day on the
> hill convincing senators," Marrissa said.

CROW: <brightening> Really? <it passes> Oh, darn. I thought she said she
was *convicting* Senators.

> "As for being assigned as a
> fighter wing commander,

TOM: I've had second thoughts about facing the Kilrathi.

> the fighters have to arrive first."
> "True," Kathy said.
> "Well I'll be visiting Senators Dole,

MIKE: Why? He's retired!

> Nunn, and Wellstone this
> morning so if anyone needs me, that's were to look," Marrissa said.
> "You have the Bridge, Kathy, enjoy!"

CROW: *sigh* Why does Ratliff think command is something to be *enjoyed*?
TOM: Probably because he's never been in command of anything except his
Star Trek videotape collection, and he figures it must be pretty nice.

>
> "You are getting good at this, Marrissa," President Clinton
> commented. "Normally people start out on the hill like a fish out of
> water."

MIKE: You'd know, eh, Bill?

> "I'm use to unusual situations," Marrissa commented. "I once
> got thrown into

CROW: A vat of acid?
TOM: Unfortunately, no.

> a mediation of the continuation of Today's Balkan
> problem. I had an agreement in a week, not bad for a twelve year old."

CROW: <growls> Don't get me started on *that* again.
MIKE: I hope Ratliff has to meet with some of the survivors of the *real*
"Balkan problem." In an alleyway.

> "That problem is still going on in the 24th,"

TOM: <Harry Caray> And that's a great time for another ice cold Budweiser...

> Clinton said as
> they walked up the Mall toward the Capital.

CROW: <Marrissa> Ooo, wait a sec-- I wanna stop by the Macy's.

> "It went on off and on until the late 21st century when each of
> the sides were given their own planet," Marrissa said.

MIKE: You see, Tom, I *told* you you could get anything you wanted at
Marshall Fields.
TOM: I guess.

> "Unfortunately
> they each got one of the four inhabitable planets in the Naklab system.

TOM: I guess they figured that was appropriate, given the name and all.

> A hundred and fifty years later, they went at it again."

CROW: I'm impressed they were able to wait 150 years!

> "How did you solve it," Clinton asked.
> "I call it enforced appeasement," Marrissa said.

MIKE: In other words, I threatened to wipe their civilizations out of
existence.

> "Each side was
> given something it wanted and all the troops were transported off Sobnia
> - their version of Bosnia.

TOM: Give each side exactly what it wants? Why didn't Jimmy Carter think
of that?
MIKE: Carter's mistake was not kidnapping all their troops, I guess.

> The agreement has lasted two years so far,
> and if it is broken, they will be in big trouble."

CROW: <Ralph Kramden> Oh, you'll be in trouble, Bosnia, biiiiiiggg trouble!
To da moon!

> As they reached the
> Capital they meet Senator Warner.

TOM: There's baloney in his slacks!

> "What's going on Senator?" Clinton asked the Senator.

MIKE: A three-piece suit, most likely.
TOM: <singing> Senator, Senator, Senator, there are far too many of us
voting... oh, what's going on....

> "They've introduced the amendment and Kennedy has begun the
> filibuster," Warner said.

CROW: More likely he's started on a Dairy Queen Belly-buster.
TOM: Has Teddy topped 350 pounds yet?

> "He hands off to me in fifteen minutes."

MIKE: Then I fade right, and lateral to Gingrich.

> Warner mounted the stairs going up them at a rapid rate. As he reached
> the top you could here him mutter, "No retirement this week."

CROW: <Lloyd Bridges> Looks like I picked the wrong week to give up
amphetamines.

>
> "We've run into a stumbling block," Lyam said to his companion.
> "Senator Kennedy is filibustering."

TOM: Eww! And it's all over the carpet!

> "I'll see if I can arrange for it to be broken then," the
> companion said.

MIKE: Make him drive down a bridge in the dark.

> "Go, and while your at it, get rid of the Spock tie," Lyam said.

CROW: Yeah! You know, this Lyam doesn't seem like such a bad guy.

> "Why, it's a good cover," the companion responded. "No one would
> ever suspect some one with a Spock tie of hating Starfleet."
> Lyam groaned.

TOM: Thereby echoing the feelings of the entire reading audience.
CROW: Lyam Sympton is my hero.

>
> "Mister President, I think I know how you can sink the eliminate
> NASA amendment,"

MIKE: <Burton> I don't care how you do it - you must sink the Bismarck
amendment.

> Marrissa said as they left Senator Dole's office.

TOM: Senator Dole's *empty* office, I'd imagine.

> "How?" the President asked.

CROW: Threaten to have Carl Sagan speak in favor of it?

> "Remember Kennedy's 'We chose to go to the moon speech,'"
> Marrissa asked.

MIKE: Good thing Marrissa's up on the speeches of Presidents who died
500 years before she was born.

> "How could I forget?" Bill Clinton replied.

TOM: Especially since his memory is so good otherwise...

> "Well if you have a clear goal in space they won't cut it,"
> Marrissa stated.

CROW: Wanna bet?

> "Great idea, and I think I have one," Clinton said, getting out
> his cellar phone.

MIKE: <Clinton> NASA's new goal is to find hot chicks in outer space!

> "Hello, Hillary, get our new press secretary

TOM: ...out of your bed and get him to put on some clothes.

> and have
> him set up a press conference for tonight at 9 p.m.. Tell him that the
> topic is America in Space.

CROW: The potheads'll love it.

> Thanks Hillary."

MIKE: <Clinton> Oh, and you're taking the fall for Whitewater, not me.
Bye, honey!

> He shut the phone. "Now all I have to do is write a speech."

TOM: Or, at least, have my elite team of speech writers and campaign
strategists write it for me.

>
> Marrissa continued to get reports on Lyam and his companion.

CROW: Seems it was all a stunt for "TV Nation".

> They seemed to be everywhere, spreading disinformation.

MIKE: So they work for the Christian Coalition?
TOM: Or the tobacco lobby.
CROW: Or the anti-drug commission.
TOM: Or Rush Limbaugh.

> Fortunately the
> President had quite a bit of resources

MIKE: ...most of them tied up in the fast food industry...

> and every place they visited, one
> of the President's people, usually Chelsea or Hillary visited quickly
> there after.

TOM: Was English Ratliff's first language?

> However Marrissa had no luck in capturing these time travelers.
> Already Ross's team had been sent down a couple times to pick them up
> and failed.

CROW: <Ross> Okay, men-- next time we wear the *sheer* pantyhose.

> The preparations for the Press Conference were going well and
> Kennedy had given way to Warner

MIKE: ...who told punny jokes and sprayed seltzer on Congress for two hours.

> and him to Robb in the filibuster.

TOM: Things were looking mighty grim for the Windbag Nine that day...

> Braun had the night shift. Apparently in Congress seniority had it's
> privileges as well.

CROW: They don't have to work the Congressional 7-11.

> Lieutenant Lavelle reported that the Eagle wasn't visiting Earth
> any time soon as it's orbit around Jupiter had been made difficult to
> leave.

TOM: On the other hand, it's not difficult at *all* to leave this crappy
fanfic. Let's roll, guys.

[Mike and the bots leave the theater.]

*... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...

[SOL. Tom and Crow are behind Crow's computer. Crow is typing. Mike enters
and stands behind them.]

MIKE: Okay, explain this plan to me again?
TOM: You know how in today's fanfic Ratliff claims that every Star Trek
episode, movie, novel, comic book, and work of fanfiction would someday
come true?
MIKE: Yeah.
TOM: Well, we've decided to use Ratliff's theory against him. If everything
he or anybody else writes using the Trek universe comes true, then *we*
can write a Marrissa story, too!
MIKE: You're writing... a *Marrissa* story?!
TOM: Yeah! Cool, huh?

[Mike begins edging off to the side.]

MIKE: Um, yeah. Excuse me while get the chainsaw from underneath my bed...
CROW: Wait, Mike. It's not what you're thinking.

[Mike stops edging.]

MIKE: It isn't?
CROW: Nope! See, what *we're* planning to do is put Marrissa through pain
and torture and suffering and death and stuff.
TOM: Hee hee hee! We're gonna kill Marrissa!
MIKE: Ah! I get it! Can I help?
TOM: Sure!

[Everyone looks to the computer screen. Crow begins typing.]

CROW: Okay. <typing> "Marrissa vs Soup. Chapter One."
TOM: Marrissa vs *Soup*??
CROW: Well, why not? Trust me.
TOM: Okay.
CROW: <typing> "Marrissa entered her quarters on the Stargazer to find a
large bowl of soup waiting for her."
TOM: ...and it has a gun and it kills her!
CROW: What? Soup can't hold a gun!
TOM: Maybe it's really a changeling or something...
CROW: No, it's soup.
TOM: Okay, what about if she trips, hits her head on the bowl, and drowns
in a puddle of soup?
CROW: She *could* do that, but do you really want to kill her right away?
TOM: YES!!!
CROW: No, we don't!
TOM: No?
CROW: I have a large, intricate plan to make Marrissa suffer. Slowly at
first, and then, inch by inch, the torture becomes more and more
horrible... and *then* she dies.
TOM: How long will this take?
CROW: Well, it might take two or three stories...
TOM: WHAT?!
CROW: Well, there's twists and turns in the plot, and I *really* want to
make Marrissa suffer for a long time...
TOM: But I want to kill her *now*!!
MIKE: Uh... I hate to interrupt, here, but... can we get on with it?
CROW: Fine. I shall continue. <typing> "Marrissa wondered how the soup
could have gotten into her quarters -- she always left the door
locked. Nervously, she dipped a finger into the soup and tasted it..."
TOM: ...and the soup was poisoned, so she died!
CROW: <angrily> TOM!!!

[Crow attacks Tom, but is held back by Mike. Suddenly, the buzzers and
flashing lights go off.]

ALL: FANFIC SIGN!!!

-- CONTINUED IN PART 4 --