[MiSTied] Princes of the Universe, 3 (2/2) (REPOST)
Gary W. Olson
> "Douglas. He died."
> "Died? I thought your kind didn't die?"
CROW: Face it, if Highlander II didn't stop them, nothing will.
> "There were some things I didn't tell you that night, Guinan. I'm
>immortal, but Douglas and I were not the only ones. We are part of a
>race of Immortals, and we must fight until only one remains.
MIKE: Also, we like to wear pretty things.
> There
>is only one way to kill us, beheading."
> "Why do you have to fight? What's the purpose?"
TOM: It's something to do, I guess.
> "We fight for the prize. The last Immortal gets the combined power
>of all the Immortals. Enough to rule the galaxy, surely."
> "It seems like more of a hassle than a goal, if you ask me."
CROW: And don't call me Shirley.
> "Sometimes I feel the same way, but, our 'game' will go on for a
>long time. There are still many Immortals on Earth, and I just
>continue to live my life as I always have.
MIKE: Photogenically.
One day at a time."
MIKE: Oh.
> "You said there are still many Immortals on Earth, but what about
>other planets?"
> "What do you mean?"
TOM: Haven't you opened any branch offices?
> "Come on, MacLeod. You don't really believe that Earth is so
>special that it's cornered the market on Immortals, do you?"
CROW: Well, I'm sure other planets have immortals, but we have Immortals.
MIKE: I can see the distinction...huh?
> "I never thought of it that way." Duncan looked puzzled. "I've
>never encountered any, that I know of. And I don't know anyone who
>has."
TOM: Besides Steve Allen.
> "Well, neither have I. Your kind give me a very, what's the word?
>Particular, sensation.
CROW: Slimy, skin.
TOM: Grating, punctuation.
> Almost like Q, but not as menacing."
MIKE: Q-Lite?
> "Q? What's Q?"
TOM: He controls the other letters on Sesame Street. Just last week he had
M, F, and T fitted for cement shoes, if you know what I mean.
> "Never mind. Suffice it to say, I haven't encountered any more of
>you. I would've remembered that.
CROW: Yeah, these boozing, rutting Immortals really make an impression.
> Although, the only Immortals I've
>encountered from Earth are on this ship. Except for Douglas, of
>course."
MIKE: And Regis and Kathi Lee.
> "I hope it stays that way. I really would hate to think of an
>Immortal Klingon after my head."
> "I don't know, from what I hear, you handled Worf's calisthenics
>program pretty well."
CROW: Except for Mitchell's frontal assault.
TOM: What is Mitchell's frontal assault?
CROW: He takes off his clothes.
TOM: Ack! I don't want to even *think* about that!
> "Where did you hear that?"
> Guinan merely smiled.
CROW: Make her stop! Please make her stop!
> "Here come your friends. We'll talk later."
> Duncan felt Conner and Richie approaching and turned toward the
>door.
> "How did you-"
> When he turned back, Guinan was gone.
CROW: Let's all get gone.
MIKE: We can't. There's still two more scenes to go in this part.
TOM: What?
>Part 14: Corellias Government Plaza Building 9
TOM: The Pedestrians still have yet to get on the board, I see.
> "How long until the Enterprise is in range?"
> "Approximately twenty hours, sir."
CROW: The Enterprise must take a lot of time to thaw.
MIKE: IF they'd just put it in the range now, it'd warm up a lot faster.
> Horgan looked around the control room anxiously. He was worried.
>Kerr was out of control, and he was scared.
TOM (Horgan): I wet 'em!
> "I'll be in my chambers, if you need me. If the man wants me,
>call me." He was unwilling to say Doran's name aloud. They all
>were.
CROW: Doran! Doran! Doran! Doran! Doran! Doran! Doran! Doran!
TOM: Doran! Doran! Doran! Doran! Dor--I can't do this.
MIKE: I don't blame you.
> "Yes, sir."
> Horgan left the control room and headed to his private chambers,
>on the other side of the complex. The fires had, for the most part,
>burned themselves out in a few short hours, and all that remained now
MIKE: Was a big Visa bill.
>was ashes. And bodies, can't forget the bodies.
CROW: So plump, so firm...
MIKE: That's enough, Crow.
> Doran had ordered
>them all killed.
TOM: But they're already bodies! Isn't killing them redundant?
> He still didn't know about those who escaped. He
>didn't know that Kerr was the one who ordered the shuttle bay closest
>to the living quarters untouched, so they could get out. At least,
>Horgan hoped Kerr didn't know.
MIKE: Er... who knows what here?
TOM: What did Kerr know, and when did he know it?
> That was by no means certain, Kerr had
>a strange way of knowing things.
CROW: A Biblical way.
> Horgan reached his door and placed his thumb on the small access
>pad. The door opened to his small living quarters. He had few
>accoutrements, a bed, a food dispenser, a Corellias network access
>terminal,
MIKE: A computer chip containing the latest version of Doom...
> and a chest, containing his few personal items he brought
>with him from his home in the mountain city of Lorkeh. He noticed
>that he'd left his lighting system on. That was strange, since when
>he'd left this morning, it had been light out.
TOM: He forgot to ask for a Bud Lite.
MIKE: Please don't mention bad beer.
TOM: Sorry.
> Then he saw the large
>figure sitting in front of his terminal.
> "Who are you and what are you doing here? Never mind, just get out
>before I kill you." He took off his jacket and threw it onto the
>bed. Strapped to his waist was a very powerful disruptor, which he
>drew and aimed at the person in the chair.
CROW: Wait, that's your blow-up doll!
TOM: It must die so that he might live.
> "Horgan! So nice of you to join me." The figure in the chair
>turned to face him. It was Kerr Doran
> Horgan's body went rigid,
MIKE: Well, most of it went rigid, anyway.
> his hair stood on end, and the blood
>drained from his face.
CROW: And his eyes did that cartoon bugging-out thing.
> The disruptor fell from his hand. He
>couldn't speak. He just stood there, staring at Doran, unable to
>move.
> "Don't just stand there, Horgan. Come! Sit down!" Kerr smiled
>as he pointed to the chair on his left.
> "Uh, sir, I had no idea. . ."
MIKE: You would look this hot in a shimmering blue silk bathrobe.
> "Of course you didn't, not to worry, Horgan. I wasn't offended by
>your threats. That's one of the reasons I chose you. You're not
>afraid of the unknown. Now, sit down, so we can have ourselves a
>little chat."
CROW: Inside the Immortal Mind with Kerr Doran.
> Horgan took the vacant seat. He was barely able to breath as he
>looked at Doran. Doran smiled at him, and seemed to be totally calm.
TOM: Dianetics is wonderful, isn't it?
> "You know, Horgan, you really should relax.
MIKE: Take your shoes off. Set a spell.
> I don't know what
>you're so nervous about. I know all about you're little group of
>escapees, don't concern yourself with that.
TOM: Wait, I thought Kerr authorized the escapees.
CROW: That's just what he wanted us to think!
> You were just doing what
>you thought was right. I can understand that. I used to be like
>you, you know. I used to be concerned with doing the right thing. I
>used to care about people. Do you know what changed that, Horgan?"
MIKE: The 700 Club?
> Horgan shook his head. He relaxed a little.
TOM: Rich Little?
> "It was an experience I had a long time ago, Horgan. It changed
>my life. My wife, Gaea, was killed, right in front of my eyes,
>Horgan.
CROW: No she wasn't. You were still passed out from having performed amateur
heart surgery on yourself!
> Ever since that day, ever since I exacted revenge for the
>death of my wife, I haven't cared about anything. That is, until
>just recently. Do you know what happened to me recently, Horgan?
>Do you know what I'm talking about?"
MIKE: You're about to tell me your secret of getting rich in real estate, aren't
you?
> "No, I'm sorry, sir, I don't."
> "It was the realization that I have what it takes to run this
>galaxy. The realization that I am the best qualified to lead us into
>a new age. I, and I alone, have the skill and power to do it,
>Horgan.
TOM: Plus, I have enough crystal pyramids and Time/Life Mysteries of the
Universe books to fill a warehouse!
CROW: Huh?
TOM: He's leading them into a new age.
CROW: I see.
> You understand, Horgan, that I can't have anyone in my
>organization that doesn't believe that, don't you?"
> "Of course, sir."
> "Good. You believe that, don't you, Horgan?"
> "Yes sir."
MIKE: Any more condescending questions for me, sir? I'm really busy.
> "Good. I'm glad we could have this little chat. Now, I shall
>leave you to your . . . well, to whatever it is you do when you're
>alone."
CROW: Oh, hell. He found the toybox.
> "Very well, sir. Thank you for stopping by."
TOM: On Monday's show, Horgan welcomes Sylvester Stallone! Nia Peeples! and
Stupid Pet Tricks!
> "It was my pleasure. Oh, there's just one more thing before I go,
>Those escapees, I want them killed. Send an assault ship."
MIKE: And this time, don't send it postage due!
> "Sir? I don't understand, you said it was alright."
> "Yes, it is. You had a momentary loss of judgement. Perfectly
>understandable, and I'm sure it will never happen again. I am
>correct in assuming this, am I not?"
CROW: Oh, um, yes sir. Anything you say, sir.
TOM (whispering): Just hope he doesn't find out I've been switching his regular
coffee with Folgers Crystals.
CROW: Ssh!
> "Sir, I can assure you, it will never happen again. I'll send the
>ship first thing tomorrow."
MIKE: Well, maybe second thing. I had six burritos for dinner.
> "No, send it now. I don't want the Federation ship reaching them
>before we do."
> "But sir, all the ships are refueling, we exhausted our supplies
>during the raid." This was a blatant lie.
TOM: Whew! For a moment, I thought some suspense might enter this story!
> Doran's smile disappeared.
ALL: YAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!
> He grabbed Horgan by the collar and
>lifted him off his feet. "What do you take me for, Horgan? Do I
>look like a child to you?"
CROW: Well, you *are* wearing the same clothes you were wearing at age 5...
> "No, sir!"
> "I have warned you once. There will not be a second time. Do what
>I tell you, and do not attempt to lie to me. You can hide nothing
>from me. I know your very thoughts, your deepest secrets.
MIKE: I know you like to chug Pepto Bismol straight from the bottle.
> I know
>you plan to betray me to the Federation, the only reason you are
>still alive is that not even you're betrayal can stop me. Now,
>do what I tell you, or I will personally take a scout ship to Lorkeh
>and disembowel your entire family with my teeth!"
TOM: He's losing his willpower!
CROW: Quick, somebody call Tommy Lasorda! We need some milkshakes, pronto!
> Horgan believed this threat, despite its apparent absurdity.
MIKE: And the fact his family actually lived in Cleveland now.
> Doran set Horgan back on his feet and smiled. "Now, send that
>ship."
> "Yes, sir."
CROW: And change your armor.
> Doran left Horgan alone in his room, quaking. He went silently to
>his computer terminal and sent the order to the command room.
TOM: He vants us to send a sheep? As in 'baa-baa'?
MIKE: No, Chekov, a ship!
>Part 15: Ten Forward
CROW: Eleven backward. Still losing ground.
> "So, Doctor, is Conner going to live?" Richie asked as the three
>of them walked to Ten-Forward.
> "I certainly hope so. He seems to be in perfect health. We'll
>just have to run that neural scan again, to be sure," said Beverly.
MIKE: And this time, point the scanner at his skull.
>"Don't try to weasel your way out of it, either, Highlander," she
>said to Conner.
> "Are you joking? I couldn't even, if I tried. Remember when I
>said you didn't seem like a Highlander to me? I was wrong."
TOM: You know, that's not exactly a compliment.
> Beverly smiled. "Here we are. Ten-Forward."
> Richie and Conner both felt the buzz. "Well, Duncan's already
>here," Richie said, as the door opened.
CROW: Bombed out of his mind.
MIKE: Please! Go to the meetings!
> Duncan looked back toward the door, and saw Conner, Richie,
>and Doctor Crusher, enter.
TOM: Commas! You can never have enough.
> "How's it going, Mac?" asked Richie. "You look like you just saw a
>ghost. Are you alright man?"
> "I'm fine, Richie. Just a little headache."
CROW: Just a little heartache.
MIKE: Stop it, before this becomes a country song.
> "Really?" asked Beverly. "Maybe I should have a look at you, too."
> "Uh, no. It's alright, Doctor. I think I just hit my head on the
>holodeck. Lieutenant Worf's calisthenics program can get a little
>hectic. I'll be fine in a minute."
MIKE: Could you tell me what the Smurfs are doing dancing in the potato salad?
> "Well, OK, but if you change you're mind, or it gets worse,
TOM: Or if you get your head cut off...
> let me
>know."
> "Yes, Doctor."
> "So, how do you know the Captain, Duncan?" she asked.
CROW: I was his barber.
TOM: Oh, so that explains it...
> "Well, I used to teach a little fencing course at the Academy.
>Jean-Luc was one of my best students."
> "You taught at the academy when Captain Picard was attending? It's
>amazing.
MIKE: I figured you'd be in the administration.
TOM: Those that can't teach, administer.
> You don't look old enough to have been born when Picard was
>at the Academy."
> "Yes, well, I hide my age well. Besides, all that fresh air and
>exercise keep me looking young."
CROW: And I bathe in Oil of Olay every night.
> "I'd say so. Exactly how old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
> "Well, uh, I-"
MIKE: Can't count past twenty-one...
> "Here comes the Captain now," Conner said, and gestured toward the
>door.
> "Captain." Beverly smiled at Picard. "This is Conner MacLeod, of
>the Clan MacLeod, and Richie Ryan. You already know Duncan MacLeod."
TOM: The three nitwits kick back!
> Picard stared at Duncan in amazement. The diplomat in him took
>control immediately.
CROW: And started drinking martinis as fast as the waiter could serve them.
> "Mister MacLeod, you're looking well." He
>shook Duncan's hand, and then turned to Conner. "A pleasure Mister
>MacLeod."
> "Conner, please. And the pleasure is mine. You're sort of a
>legend back on Earth."
MIKE: Richard Dean Anderson?
TOM: From the Clan MacGyver.
> They shook hands.
CROW: Not their hands, of course. Some special prop hands provided for the
occasion.
> "Thank you." Picard turned to Richie. "Mr. Ryan"
> "Nice to meet you, sir." Richie shook Picard's hand.
> "Well, shall we find a table?" asked Duncan.
MIKE: Why wait? Let's sit at the bar.
> "Yes, let's," Picard said.
> They chose a table in a secluded corner. "Doctor, I wasn't
>expecting to see you here."
TOM: I was expecting the Lawyer and the Indian Chief.
> "Well, Conner invited me, in lieu of a dinner date."
CROW: Would that make this a lieu-ow?
MIKE: Ow.
CROW: So you agree!
> "Well, it's a pleasant surprise." Picard turned to Duncan. "You
>know Mister MacLeod, I must confess, I'm amazed at how well you've
>aged. You don't look a day older than you did at the Academy."
TOM: About 292,000 days, in fact.
> "Thank you, Captain. Please, call me Duncan."
> "It's utterly astonishing. What's your secret?"
> "Exercise, and lots of fresh air.
MIKE: Plus he uses Crelm toothpaste.
CROW: With the miracle ingredient, Frauduline!
> You know what Paris is like.
CROW: Oui!
>Also, modern medical technology has had a lot to do with it. It's
>not something I like to talk about, but I was in an accident a few
>years ago, and almost didn't survive.
TOM: As a result, he'll have to wear Depends for the rest of eternity.
> Doctors had to reconstruct
>most of my body, and so I decided I'd rather have them give me my
>younger, healthier appearance, than my old wrinkled one. Would you
> have chosen any differently?"
MIKE: I would have chosen to look like Spencer Tracy.
TOM: Data. Definitely Data.
CROW: Galaxina.
[Tom and Mike turn to look at Crow.]
CROW: Just kidding. Heh.
> "Probably not. You always were the talk of all the female cadets."
> "Yes, Duncan always gets the girls," said Conner. "Almost always."
>He looked at Beverly and smiled.
TOM: (whimpers)
MIKE: Hang on, Tom. They'll be frowning, eventually.
> "So, Conner, did I hear the Beverly correctly? You're descended
>from legendary Clan MacLeod?"
> "Aye, Duncan and I both."
> "You know, I've always been intrigued by Scottish history. The
>great clan wars, Rob Roy,
CROW: Haggis...
TOM: It's amazing how much of Scottish history can be explained by haggis,
isn't it?
> all of it is very fascinating to me."
> "You should have been there," Conner said to himself.
> "What was that?" asked Beverly.
MIKE: You...um...should have been there...at, er, the local library...
> "Oh, I said I wish I'd been there."
> "Yes, it was a simpler time," said Picard.
CROW: A gastronomically disturbing time.
> "That it was. Although I'm sure none of us would want to be forced
>to drawn their own water, or hunt their own food to survive,"
TOM: Or build hang gliders and bomb German castles.
> Conner
>said.
> "True enough," said Duncan. "So, Captain, have you been keeping up
>with your fencing?"
MIKE: Where have you been, old man? It's all done by force fields now!
CROW: Don't they have Popular Science in the twenty-forth century?
> "Yes, although not as much as I'd like. Being the Captain of a
>Starship doesn't leave me with as much free time as I'd like.
TOM: Barking orders to the crew is so taxing.
> I miss
>the days of ignoring my studies at the Academy."
> "Don't be so modest, Captain. From what the other teachers told me
>you were an excellent student."
MIKE: Of love.
CROW: Rrrrrrrrrrl.
> "Well, from what the other students told me, you were the most
>popular teacher in the athletics department."
> "Captain, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for the
>ride. We really appreciate the hospitality," said Richie.
TOM: Enough of this gay banter. Let's advance the plot, shall we?
CROW: Let's find a plot, first.
MIKE: Well said.
> "Ah, well, that's something I have to discuss with you. Shortly
>after our departure, we received new orders from Starfleet. I'm
>afraid your trip will have to be delayed. I'm sorry."
TOM (singing): Sooooo sorrry... please accept myyyyyyy apologieeeees....
> "You mean we have to stay on the ship for a few extra days?"
> "Yes, perhaps a week," Picard said, apologetically.
MIKE: See what happens when you don't plan your vacation through a travel
agency?
> "That's great!" Richie said.
> "That's excellent news, Captain. It'll give us some time to
>catch up. And to work on your fencing technique."
CROW: And your drinking technique.
> Conner merely smiled.
TOM (Conner): Idiots.
> "I hope this will give us some time to get to know each other
>better." Beverly took Conner's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
> "I'm glad this worked out this way. I was not looking forward to
>breaking the news to you."
CROW: Now, if you could stop brandishing that sword...
> "It's no problem at all, Captain. This is more fun than Risa, I'm
>sure."
MIKE: They don't smile nearly as much on Risa, despite the ideal conditions,
the plentiful booze and frequent sex.
> "Well, I've been to Risa. I'd probably agree with you on that
>note."
> "You didn't like Risa?"
> "No, Richie. It was not my cup of tea, so to speak.
TOM: It was more like really thick java.
> Although, it
>I did meet a very special person there."
> "Really? A woman?"
CROW: Oh, yessss...
MIKE: But the whole thing was a vash-out.
> Commander Riker's voice came over the comm. "Captain Picard to the
>bridge."
> Picard tapped his comm badge. "On my way, Number-One.
TOM: Boy, this was an important scene, wasn't it?
MIKE: Well, there was an important plot point here, namely informing Duncan
that they'd be delayed in getting to Risa.
TOM: Couldn't he have just sent some e-mail?
> "I am sorry, but duty calls. Goodnight, Beverly, gentlemen." He
>stood up.
> "We'll talk later, Captain."
> Picard nodded and then left.
MIKE: Yeah, sure, whatever.
> "I think I'll be calling it a night, all this traveling's getting
>to me." Richie stood up. "I'll see you all in the morning. Good
>night, Beverly, Mac, Mac."
CROW: Is he having a Mac Attack?
> "Good night Richie," Doctor Crusher smiled.
> "Night Richie,
MIKE: Night Richie?
TOM: By day he's just plain Richie, protege to Duncan MacLeod and Macauley
Culkin lookalike, but by night...
MIKE: *Thank* you, Tom.
> see you in the morning," said Conner
> "Wait up, Richie, I'll walk with you. Good night, Doctor, cousin."
>Duncan followed Richie out.
> "So, here we are, alone again."
MIKE (singing): Naturally...
> "It would seem so," Conner said with a smile.
> "You know, I don't have to be on duty until noon tomorrow."
> "You don't say." Conner smiled.
CROW: Wanna get onto IRC for the next 11 hours?
>==================================================
>Mike Coelho 'There can be only one'
>cm...@ibm.net -+==========|----------------------
TOM: Yeah, yeah, yeah...
>--------------------------------------------------
CROW: There's an idea. Let's dash!
[They exit the theater. Cut to commercials.]
(continued in part 4...)
--
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trademarks of and (c) 1995 by Best Brains Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Use of copyrighted or trademarked material is for entertainment purposes
only. No infringement on original copyrights or trademarks held by Best
Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. This post is not meant
as a personal attack on Mike Coelho, nor should it be interpreted as
such. Society, in this case, is clearly to blame.
--
Gary W. Olson sw...@sojourn1.sojourn.com sw...@drycas.club.cc.cmu.edu
http://www.sojourn.com/~swede