MSTed: Stephen Ratliff's "A Royal Mess", Part Two (7/7)
Mighty Jack
>Chapter Thirteen
>
> The Ball was in full swing by the time the Admiral and Doctor
>arrived. The Enterprise Pops (as the combined quartets were referred to)
>with the Essex Royal Symphony Orchestra were playing 'By the Beautiful Blue
>Danube' by Johann Strauss, jr.
Tom: While the tuba player, highly confused, delves deep into the third
verse of Madonna's "Like a Virgin."
> Marrissa and Jay could be seen gaily waltzing
>across the floor. "Jean-Luc, lets show Marrissa how it is done," Doctor
>Beverly Picard said.
Mike: It's the return of the Dancin' Doctor!
> He took up her hand
Crow: He takes her hand... starts running downfield... he's at the 30, he's
blocked, there's nowhere to turn... he laterals to Szustakowski who
runs off the field, into the stands, and attacks the pretzel guy!
That's gotta hurt!
> and they began as a new song
>was picked up by the Orchestra, 'Waltz of the Snowflakes' by Tchaikovsky.
> "My compliments on the decorations," Jean-Luc said to his wife.
>"If I didn't know better I'd say you had taken the roof off my shuttle bay."
Tom: (as Beverly) We did. How long can you hold your breath?
> "Pay more attention to your dancing, Jean-Luc," Beverly replied.
>"You just stepped on to my foot."
>
> Later that evening when the orchestra was taking a break,
Mike: The partygoers stole their instruments and threw them out the
airlock, happily.
> the
>Admiral and Doctor where getting some refreshments. "So tell me more about
>how I did with the decorations," Beverly asked.
> "Oh, what, You really have done quite well," he replied,
>somewhat preoccupied.
> "A penny for your thoughts," Beverly asked.
Crow: (as Jean-Luc) I was just thinking about pennies.
> "Your news earlier got me thinking about Marrissa," he
>responded. "At first I was wondering what she would think about having a
>little brother or sister, having been an only child.
Mike: (as Jean-Luc) Then I realized... how much difference could having
one more person in her life to push around possibly make?
> Then I looked up and
>here she is, all grown up dancing across the floor with some young man."
> "I'd hardly consider 13 grown up and Jay's only 12," Beverly
>replied.
Tom: Suddenly Ratliff strikes Beverly down with a lightning bolt for
speaking heresy.
> "Yes, but Marrissa and I've been quite close and since you and I
>got back from our honeymoon, we've had none of the talks like we use to,"
>Jean-Luc said.
Crow: (as Jean-Luc) It's almost as if she doesn't think she needs
adult supervision all of a sudden.
> "She hasn't exactly had much time for anything since we got
>back," the Doctor responded. "But it will get back to normal soon, trust me
>Jean-Luc. I've got the voice of experience on my side."
Mike: (as Beverly) And the other voices in my head feel the same way too.
>
> "You dance quite well, Jay," Marrissa said as they got some more
>punch.
Mike: Oh, for that Hawaiian Punch freaky guy to come out and torment them...
> "Thank you, your highness," Jay replied.
> "You know I think I've finally found a phrase that annoys me
>more than being called Risa," Marrissa responded.
Crow: Being called the leaning tower of Risa.
> "Really, your highness?" Jay replied. "What would that be?"
> "Your highness, Sir Jay," Marrissa said.
> "OK, Marrissa, I won't call you Princess, your highness or
>Risa," Jay bargined. "If you don't call me Sir Jay."
Tom: Haven't they made this same bargain in about seven other fanfics?
Mike: Stephen's going to repeat the joke until we find it amusing.
> "Agreed." Marrissa replied.
> "Care to take bets on who Commander Riker ends up spending the
>evening with?" Jay asked.
[The trio sputters.]
All: What!!?
Crow: Dear Lord! We've wandered into a Melrose Place script!
>
> Meanwhile across the room the Queen was seated by her Prime
>Minister, trying to get him to dance with her when the music started up
>again.
Mike: Unfortunately, the next song to come up was "Pretty Fly For A
White Guy".
> "Come on William, Doctor Picard said you needed the exercise of this
>Ball, and I'd like you to dance with me. Stop being a bump on a log."
Crow: (as William) As you wish. I'll be a stick in the mud instead.
> "No, my Queen," William Lancaster replied. "It isn't right for
>the Prime Minister to dance with the Queen, much less date her."
> "Let's put it in simpler terms,"
Tom: (as Victoria) Eep. Opp. Ork. Ah-Ah.
> Victoria responded. "I'm not
>married. Your dancing with me. And I don't care if you are Prime Minister
>or anything else, you are my date, you are dancing with me."
Mike: It's a new concept. Dating by fiat.
Crow: Ah, the romance. (singing) Caaaan you feeeel the loooove
toniiiight....?
> As the band stuck up the Starship Waltz, a new composition by
>Data in its debut performance, everyone returned to the dance floor.
Tom: (as Data) I have entitled this piece, "Summertime reflections on an
IEEE-802.5 token ring".
Mike: They quickly left the dance floor when they discovered that Data
had written a 49 hour long piece performed solely by accordions.
> This
>Included the Queen and her reluctant Prime Minister.
>
> After the ball was over and before the Queen left for the
>surface, Marrissa pulled her over for a quick chat. "Victoria, I have a
>couple requests," Marrissa said.
Crow: It better not be that blasted Celine Dion song.
Mike: Freebird! Woooooo!
Tom: (as Marrissa) Number one: Abdicate. Number two...
> "What is that?" the Queen asked.
Mike: Freebird? It's the greatest song ever written! Freebird! Woooooo!
Crow: Stop it.
> "I don't want to become Queen, so I want you to get married as
>soon as possible," Marrissa replied. "At least before Clara and I get
>married."
Tom: I presume that the ceremony will be held in Hawaii?
> "That isn't something you can plan Marrissa," Victoria replied.
Mike: (as Victoria) It has to happen spontaneously, during sweeps months.
>"Especially with someone like my Prime Minister. However I will try to
>do so, just don't get married as quickly as you've risen though the ranks in
>Starfleet."
> "I doubt I'll be marrying any time soon," Marrissa replied.
Crow: (as Marrissa) At least not until I'm *fourteen*.
>"And one more thing, the Doctor is pregnant. I'd like if what ever sex the
>child she has is gets a title as soon as possible after it's birth.
Tom: What if the child turns out to be a trans-dimensional energy-being
from another spacetime continuum who's just using the Doctor as a
host body? Well? What then?
> If only
>to prevent some jealousy toward a certain older sister."
> "That sound reasonable," the Queen replied.
Mike: (as Glinn Gusat) Makes sense.
> "And if Wesley
>would care to stop by Essex, I've got a knighthood waiting for him."
Crow: Because y'know, you're only worth a damn if you have a title in
Ratliff's little world.
> "I'll tell him in my next letter," Marrissa responded.
Tom : Um, last I heard, he's in some other dimension. How exactly can
Marrissa write to him?
Mike: He still has an e-mail address.
Tom : Ah.
>
> The next morning was a morning of departures. First the Pope
>left in his Miranda class vessel, the Trinity. Then the Independence
>prepared to leave, first hailing the Enterprise.
> "Enterprise, Lieutenant Marrissa Picard in command," Marrissa
>responded.
> "I was hoping Admiral Picard would be in," Captain Melaine
>Morris said as she appeared on screen.
Mike: (as Marrissa) Give me a couple more stories.
> "Sorry, he took the Doctor down to the surface for a little
>shore-leave," Marrissa answered.
> "Are you sure we are taking about the same Jean-Luc Picard,"
>Morris asked.
Crow: (as Morris) I'm talking about the beatnik poet who cruises the bars
down the Jersey shore, around Asbury Park and Deal. Which Jean-Luc
Picard are you thinking of?
> "Hey, it's not every day that he learns that he is going to
>become a father," Marrissa justified. "Plus he's got 2 years of shore-leave
>saved up.
Tom: Of course, since his last couple shore leaves have involved him
getting kidnapped by Q, stuck on some weird treasure hunt with that
crazy archeology lady, chased through his ship by terrorists trying
to steal magic space particles, and generally getting beaten up
like an intragalactic punching bag, I'd forgive him if he decided
his 9-to-5 job was a wee bit more pleasant.
> If he doesn't take some of it Starfleet and Counselor Troi will
>get on his nerves until he does."
> "True my Counselor is getting on mine," Morris said. "Well give
>my regards to him and tell him thanks for the plum assignment."
Mike: Apparently Stephen is storing his punctuation marks up for the winter.
Crow: I can just see him with squirrel-cheeks full of semicolons now.
> "Just don't enjoy diplomacy too much," Marrissa replied.
Tom: Once again, Marrissa logic rears its ugly head... diplomacy is a
recreational activity, and command is to be enjoyed.
> "You
>will never get out of it."
> "You seem to have," Morris said.
> "Yes but I'm not a starship Captain yet," Marrissa said, "but
>I've heard that once Admiral Okie has found Captains he likes they don't
>leave his hands until they accept promotions."
Crow: (as Marrissa) Or should I say, his hands don't leave them, if you
know what I mean.
> "I'll keep that in mind," Morris said. "Oh and my second
>officer wants to know if you and his son had a good time last night.
>Apparently Jay came home dead tired."
Mike: (as Morris) And wearing a duck costume. We must ask him about it
sometime.
> "Yes, we did," Marrissa said. "Although I don't recommend
>dancing to midnight and then taking the bridge at 0800 the next mourning.
>I've discovered why my father drinks so much Earl Gray tea."
Crow: It's made with 50 percent tea leaves, and 50 percent model airplane
glue!
> "I will agree with that," Morris responded. "Well I better get
>going. I have 24 hours to get to Qari. Independence out."
Tom: (as Morris) We gotta help Fred and Barney down at the Qari.
>
>Epilogue
>
> "Marrissa, you are too busy for a girl your age," Admiral Picard
>said, entering his daughters room to find her working at her desk.
Crow: Hey, didn't we read this already?
> "Most girls my age aren't Starfleet Lieutenants or heirs to the
>throne of some planet," Marrissa responded.
Tom: Yeah! This was the start of the story! We did this one years ago!
> "True but even so you have to much work, especially paper work,"
>Jean-Luc Picard said. "And your room is simply not the place for it."
Crow: He's looped back on himself! Stephen Ratliff has become a Moebius
Strip of fandom!
> "Where else am I going to do it?" Marrissa asked.
> "How about your office, across the hall," her father replied.
>"And I'm sure your new Yeoman will reduce your load some what."
> "I never thought you would agree to it," Marrissa said of her
Mike: You know, that might be an exciting story, actually.
>request for an office.
> "I hadn't been in your room that much until last night when I
Mike: I mean, if, say, the Kids Crew and the Freedom Fighters had to swap
for a week or so.
Crow: Um... uh-huh.
Tom: Uh... hey... look, the epilogue!
>found you asleep writing a report at your desk," Jean-Luc Picard said.
>"After I put you to bed. I contacted Commander LaForge and pulled up a
>file you made titled Marrissa's perfect office.
Crow: It looks suspiciously like the Sears Tower....
> You'll find that Geordi
>followed your plans exactly or I will know why." The last was said in
>such a tone that meant that he would not be pleased with Geordi LaForge if
>there was any deviance from Marrissa's plans.
Tom: Yes, the crew lived in constant fear of Jean-Luc sending them off to
the gulags.
> "Thank you Dad," Marrissa said giving her father a hug. "And
>you definitely are right, I'm too busy. I think that I will leave this
>rewrite of my evaluation of Lieutenant Szustakowski until tomorrow. After
>all it's not needed for another month."
Crow: (as Marrissa) But afterward, I really *do* have to count all the
rivets in the bulkhead. Twice. And then I need to turn the
lights on and off exactly twenty-seven times, or I'll die.
> "In that case, would you care for a little sword practice?"
>Jean-Luc asked.
> "I'd be delighted, Dad." Marrissa replied.
Mike: Ack! Shame on you, Ratliff!
Crow: Been there...
Tom: Done that...
>
> Life returned to normal aboard the Enterprise and in the Picard
>family quarters. Until, the next problem that is. But that's another
>story ...
Mike: One that we've thankfully already read.
>
>The End.
>
>Appendix A
>A Map of Essex (area around the Capital)
>(to be available on my home page come Sept.)
Crow: Translation: Stephen's making his very own Civ II games now.
Tom: Which September? It's not on his web page.
Mike: I think this is the last place we should be complaining about delays.
Voice: Bite me.
>Appendex B :
>The Royal House of Essex
Crow: The Royal House of Pancakes of Essex.
>(to be available on my home page come Sept.)
Tom: (as Kirk) Let me guess. Tuesday!
>Appendex C
>Titles of Members of the Royal Family
Mike: To be available on my home page come September.
>
>Title Present Holder Previous Holder
Mike: Rats!
>Monarch, Queen Victoria I King George IV
>Defender of Essex,
>Head of State.
Crow: And "Ruler of the Universe" on the Royal House Pizza Parlor's
"Attack from Mars" pinball game.
>Prince(ss) of Marrissa Picard Stephen son of George IV
>Covington,
>Duke(Duchess) of
>Londonderry.
Tom: Batting .305 so far this season.
>Duke of Yorkshire Daniel Sutter Charles son of
> Edward I
> Charles,
> grandfather of Daniel
Mike: (singing to the tune of the "Davy Crockett Theme") Danielll... Daniel
Sutter... duke of the wild frontier!
>Marquise of Wessex Clara Sutter
Crow: Clara couldn't have a good title, so we offered her some canned goods
as a consolation prize.
>Duke (Duchess) of Mary Sussex Henry son of
>Greenwich Edward I
>Greenwich
>Earl Flores Martin Sussex George, biological
> father of Marrissa
>Duke of New Brittany Jean-Luc Picard vacant
Tom: (as "Daria"'s Brittany) Kev-ie! You mean this bald guy is my duke?
Eeewww!
>First Knight of the Jean-Luc Picard King George IV
>Realm
>Those knighted :
> Jean-Luc Picard, Rear Admiral, currently commanding USS
> Enterprise
Mike: The dreaded Rear Admiral!
> William T. Riker, Commander, first officer, USS Enterprise
Crow: And watcher of alien autopsies.
> Data, Lieutenant Commander, second officer, USS Enterprise
Tom: (as Data) Can I sing something from Gilbert and Sullivan now?
Mike: (as Picard) That won't be necessary.
> Geordi LaForge, Lieutenant Commander, Cheif Engineer, USS
> Enterprise
Mike: (as Perry White) Don't call me "cheif"!
> Worf, son of Mog, Lieutenant Commander, Cheif of Security, USS
> Enterprise
Crow: It's good that he mentioned that Worf was the son of Mog... otherwise
we might confuse him with all the other Worfs hanging around this
story.
Tom: Isn't he supposed to be son of Martok now actually?
> Jay Gordon, Ensign, Commanding Officer, Kid's Crew USS
> Independence
>
>Appendex D:
>Current Kids Crews.
Crow: Not sure where the possessive goes? Then don't use one at all!
>
>USS Enterprise age
>Commanding Officer Lieutenant Marrissa Picard 13
Tom: So how long until "Dark Marrissa"?
>First Officer Ensign Clara Sutter 11
>Second Officer Alexander Rozhenko 11
>Chief of Operations Alexander Rozhenko 11
>Chief of Security Patterson Supra 9
Mike: The least-seen character in "For Better or For Worse."
>Chief Engineer Shayna Sachs 11
>Chief CONN Officer Heather Cowhig 16
Crow: You have to imagine Heather regrets being born into her family.
Tom: You know, I think I'd remember seeing a 16 year old in this story.
>USS Independence age
>Commanding Officer Ensign Jay Gordon 12
>First Officer Thak 10
Mike: (as Brak) If Thak doesn't get his Vitamin C, Thak *can't work*!
>Second Officer Tira Nomel 9
>Chief Engineer Tira Nomel 9
Crow: But that's not all! Tira Nomel also slices, dices and makes three
varieties of julienne fries! Now how much would you pay?
>Chief of Security Sirek 13
>Chief of Operations Brian (last name unknown) 8
Tom: Stephen, as the author, you're allowed to make up a last name
for the characters.
>Chief CONN Officer Robert Yomato 7
[Mike and the bots stand up.]
Mike: You say "Yo-MAY-to," I say "Yo-MAH-to"....
Bots: Let's call the whole thing off!
[They exit the theater.]
[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]
[SOL]
[Mike, Tom and Crow are standing around a battered looking computer,
talking animatedly.]
Mike: Okay, is everyone clear on the plan?
Crow: I guess...
Tom: Do you really think this will work?
Mike: Tom, it's our only hope.
[The Mads light begins to flash.]
Mike: Okay, everyone, here we go. Take your places.
[Mike takes a deep breath and reaches over and taps the light.]
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl, Observer and Professor Bobo gaze intently at the screen.]
Pearl: Okay, Joe Bob. Spill it.
Bobo: Yes, did the old-time Ratliff fic break you or what?
Pearl: [harshly] Bobo, *I* get to find out whether or not they've
finally lost it! [normal] Well, Mikey? How are you doing?
[SOL]
Mike: Okay, I guess.
Crow: I'd forgotten how badly written those early Ratliffs were.
Tom : The obsession with titles...
Mike: The creative spelling...
Crow: The way everyone is a diplomat...
Tom : The bizarre hair-ribboned aliens...
Mike: The appendices full of characters who barely appeared in
the story...
Crow: The royalty, and their obsession with not being royalty...
Tom : The absolute stupidity of bad guys when they capture
someone... [Tom breaks into sobs.]
Crow: The never... ending... conferences... [He sobs too.]
Mike: Let's face it, Pearl. It was horrible! No mas! No mas!
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl is grinning from ear to ear. Bobo is passing out glasses
while Observer is opening a bottle of champagne.]
Pearl: So, Nelson. It finally happened. You've been broken!
I knew! I knew that one day you'd succumb to the evil
that is Stephen Ratliff!
Bobo: [chanting] We broke Mike's mind! We broke Mike's mind!
Pearl: That's it then. Brain Guy! Let's send this puppy
to everyone! World conquest is mine!
[SOL]
[Tom and Crow are still crying.]
Mike: I don't think that'll work.
[Castle Forrester]
[The celebration stops as all three turn to stare at the screen.]
Pearl: What did you say?
[SOL]
Mike: I said it won't work. The world won't be conquered.
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: Mike, I appreciate your last, feeble effort at resistance,
but pleeeeeze. It's over. Unless you have some last gasp
effort to save the world, that is.
[SOL]
Mike: The world doesn't need saving. And it's all because of this!
[He gestures to the computer.]
[Castle Forrester]
[The mads sneer at Mike.]
Pearl: What are you planning to do? Hack into NORAD and start a game
of Global Thermonuclear War?
[They start snickering.]
Observer: Or create a fantasy woman using the computer and a Barbie doll?
[They laugh louder.]
Bobo: Or use it to start your own Internet company, offer up an IPO, get
rich and then move to the Bahamas as your company falters?
[Pearl and Observer turn to stare at Bobo.]
[SOL]
Mike: Nope. I'm just going to do this.
[Mike walks to the keyboard, types a few characters, and hits the enter
key with a flourish.]
[Castle Forrester]
Observer: Ooooh! We're scared!
Pearl: Mike, if you're trying to delete the Ratliff archive, don't bother.
I have backup copies.
[SOL]
[The bots have stopped crying and now stand beside Mike.]
Mike: Oh, I'm afraid my plans aren't that elaborate. I'm simply using
a search engine.
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: Great. You've mastered Webcrawler. Pardon me, Mike, but I have a
world to conquer....
[SOL]
Mike: Here we go. "Ratliff Fanclubs"... 10,662 entries.
[Castle Forrester]
[The Mads stare incredulously.]
Pearl: What?
Observer: That's simply not possible....
Pearl: He sucks!
Bobo: His stories are horrible!
Observer: Absolutely ghastly!
All: How can *HE* have fans?!
[SOL]
Mike: [Shrugs] Well, *we* may hate him, and *you* may hate
him, but Stephen's the biggest thing in entertainment
these days.
Crow: Yeah, he even collaborated with Andrew Lloyd Webber!
Tom : He's huge, Pearl. Huge!
[Mike and Crow stare at Tom.]
Tom : Sorry. Reflex action.
Mike: Anyway, while you've been forcing us to read Stephen's
little stories, the rest of the world has already read
them and loved them!
Crow: Look at these web page titles... "Hope and Humanity:
The Works of Stephen Ratliff."
Tom : "A Legend Walks Among Us: A Tribute To Stephen Ratliff."
Mike: "The Nobel Committee was Beaten by a Bunch of Kids!
How S.B. Ratliff Won Five Nobel Prizes for Literature."
Tom : "The Magic of Marrissa!" "Throwaway Hunters!"
Mike: www.marrissaromance.com!
Tom : www.marrissafanfic.com!
Crow: "Hot Lezbo Marrissa Action!"
Mike: Crow!
Crow: But it got five stars from the Mining Company!
Mike: Look, Pearl. We may hate Marrissa, but to the
rest of the world, she's an icon to be revered.
Tom : Sending out an unknown Marrissa story would be
cause for celebration, not the end of the world.
Crow: Maybe if you got out of the Castle a little more often,
you'd know that.
Mike: So you see, your plan just won't work.
[Castle Forrester]
[The Mads look shaken.]
Pearl: How can this be? They like him? They really *like* him?
Bobo: Lawgiver, do you want to sit down...?
Observer: I'll get you a hot toddy....
Pearl: No. [louder] No! [normal] No, Art's right. I've been
cooped up in here too long. After all, if I can't
even tell what people like and don't like any more...
[She shakes her head.] I need a vacation. Bobo!
Brain Guy! Pack the bags! We're going to Tahoe!
Mike? I trust that you can hold down the fort for
a while?
[SOL]
Mike: Sure thing, Mrs. F. We need to do some spring cleaning
anyway. You just go ahead and enjoy yourself!
[Castle Forrester]
[Bobo, Pearl and Observer are now laden with bags and
wearing Hawaiian shirts.]
Pearl: Thanks, Mike. After I get back in touch with the
common folk, I'll be back to resume my experiements!
Later! Brain Guy? If you'll do the honors?
[The Observer's sound effect is heard, and the Mads vanish,
leaving behind an empty Castle Forrester.]
[SOL]
[The trio looks anxiously at the view screen.]
Tom : They're gone!
Crow: Quick Mike, delete that damn story!
Mike: I'm trying... Okay, one more and... done!
That's every copy on the net!
Crow: Whew.
Tom : Thank goodness.
Crow: I can't believe Pearl fell for that.
Tom : Yeah. "The whole world's in love with Ratliff."
Good one, Mike.
Mike: Well, I do get flashes of inspiration from time to time.
Crow: Yeah, if Pearl had bothered to check those webpages,
she'd have seen that all of them were just "Dawson's Creek"
sites that we'd renamed.
Tom : By the way, Mike? Shouldn't you be renaming them back?
Mike: Nah. They'll all be "Felicity" sites in a few weeks anyway.
Still, I'd better make sure that all those Royal Mess stories
are gone.... "Royal Mess 1: No match found."... "Royal Mess 2:
No match found." We did it!
Crow: Pearl nearly got us with that one.
Tom : Yep.
Mike: Well, guys. We don't have to worry about that anymore.
We've finished a Ratliff story that hung over our head
for years. We've saved the world, and Pearl's out of
our hair for a few weeks until she realizes that we
conned her. Not bad for a day's work, huh? Now, what
do you say we go get some ice cream sodas, huh?
Crow: Sure thing!
Tom : Let's go!
[Mike wraps his arms around the bots, and they exit the
right side of the bridge, laughing. Cambot pans down to
the computer that is left unattended on the control panel
and zooms in as the scene fades to...]
[Closing credits]
"A ROYAL MESS, PART TWO" BY: Stephen Ratliff
MiSTING BY: David Hines (dhi...@kruncher.ptloma.edu), co-editor;
Mighty Jack (mity...@net.bluemoon.net), co-editor;
Matt Blackwell (mbla...@ix.netcom.com), co-signer;
Joseph Nebus (neb...@rpi.edu), Coca-Cola drinker; and
Tom Salyers (tsal...@dimensional.com), who likes co-eds.
ADDITIONAL MATERIAL BY: Bill Livingston (bi...@Traveller.COM)
MiSTING DIBS LIST MAINTAINED BY: Michael Neylon
COTTON GIN BY: Eli Whitney
NOTHING GETS BY: You, does it?
I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANNA: Zigazagah!
THANKS: to MiSTies, MuSTies, the teachers of America, Martin Van Buren,
Erika Flores, and anybody who'll lend me a fiver till payday.
ALSO, THANKS TO SPECIAL GUEST STARS: Drew Carey, Ryan Stiles, Colin Mochrie,
Greg Proops and Wayne Brady as themselves. Additional music by Laura Hall.
Star Trek: The Next Generation and all related characters and situations
are trademarks of and (c) Viacom. All rights reserved. Resistance is
Futile, etc, etc, etc.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are
trademarks of and (c) Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. A division of
Oseega Hot Fish Restaurants, Ltd.
Stephen Ratliff is (c) 1977, Mr. & Mrs. Ratliff; and (c) 1999, Radford
University. All rights reserved. Notice: Unauthorized removal of Stephen
Ratliff's chassis may void warranty. See local authorized dealer for
further details.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material and characters is for
entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights
or trademarks held by others is intended or should be inferred.
No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are or
should be implied. So chill, Holmes.
When in the Delta Quadrant, be sure to visit scenic Rock City.
Keep circulating the posts.
[The closing credits are suddenly replaced with a close-up of Mike's
computer screen. A single window is open. It reads...]
Searching...
Searching...
Search Complete. 1 Item found.
Download "Royalmess_part3.txt"? (Y/N)?
[Maniacal laughter fills the bridge as ghostly letters appear on the
screen.]
The End
?
[The final guitar chord plays.]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
> "And I'm eternally grateful that I'm not Queen," Marrissa said.
>"It's a hindrance to my career."
Michael Grote
some of this crap. I'm about a third of the way through of MSTing the SW
Holiday Special and it hurts and i haven't worked on it in a while. I loved
the host segs, especially the second and the last one. Good work!
------------------------------
Michael Grote (gr...@bgnet.bgsu.edu)
To get a message to me remove the .nospam (duh)