MiSTed: "Mothers + Daughters" (Part I)
Harlan Freilicher
second half soon.
-Harlan
___________________________________________________________________________
(Door sequence opens to the SOL. Tom Servo and Gypsy are standing by while
Crow leans over a tremendous pile of random items.)
Crow: Tool belt?
Gypsy: Keep.
Crow: Green Gizmonic jumpsuit?
Tom: Junk.
Crow: Waffle iron?
Tom & Gypsy: Junk.
Crow: Rock-em Sock-em Robots?
Tom: Keep.
Crow: Mentos?
Gypsy: Junk.
Mike: Hello, everybody. Welcome to the Satellite of Love. The 'bots are
just sorting through some of the stuff that the other guy left.
We're gonna jettison the stuff they don't want, and hope that Nasa
follows the trail of junk and finds the Satellite.
Crow: California Raisins?
Mike: Oh, I'll take those. (pops one in his mouth)
Gypsy: Uh, Mike? He never had any raisins on board.
Mike: Ptew! Then what was...On second thought, never tell me.
Crow: Hey Mike, Percy and Baldrick are calling.
(Mike hits the button. At Deep 13, only Frank is in sight)
Frank (whispering): Guys? We've only got a few minutes before Dr.F gets
here. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for helping me out with that
Torgo thing the other week. I was gonna let you all back down to
earth, but then Dr.F might get mad and kill me again. So I decided
to give you guys a break from this week's experiment. Dr.F was
gonna send you another fanfic, but I switched the file names so you'll
be getting the latest John Grisham novel. I haven't read it, but Jerry
and Sylvia couldn't put it down. Just don't let Dr. Forrester
know, okay?
Mike: Hey, thanks. You're okay, Frank!
Frank: Am not!
(Dr. Forrester enters)
Frank: Uh, so like I was saying, er, you're all going to die. Um, deep
sandstorm static climbing!
Dr.F: Frank, we'll just put the pain I'm gonna give you on your account.
Go get the invention exchange.
(Frank leaves)
Dr.F (whispering): Listen, Fab Four, before Frank gets back. I decided just
this once to give you a break from the experiments. Frank thinks I'm
sending you a fanfic, but I secretly switched the file names, so when he
pushes the button you'll be getting the latest Grisham novel. Of course,
if Frank were to find out about this...Well, I'd just have to kill him
and dump the body somewhere secluded. So not a word, got it?
Mike: Uh, sure. Not a word. Damn.
(Frank re-enters, wheeling in a human-sized box)
Dr.F: Anyway, our invention exchange this week is my latest entry into the
world of gene-splicing. A silent, stealthy, deadly assassin based on the
DNA of two celebrities. (opens the box to reveal a muscular man
with a crew-cut in a plaid flannel shirt, with a beer in his hand) I
give you the Tom Arnold Schwartzenegger.
Frank: He's a true Terminator, skilled in hand-to-hand combat and dozens
of weapons, and fully capable of hiding in his wife's shadow
without being heard from for months at a time.
T.A.S. I'll be back. If that's okay with you, Rosanne.
Mike: You guys are just plain strange. Anyway, our invention exchange is
based on the old concept of the beanbag chair. I was looking at the
one that the other guy left on board, and I got to thinking; why not
extend the concept to other pieces of furniture? So I've invented the
beanbag bookcase. Floppy and comfortable, and it has room for all
your reading materials. Crow, will you get my copy of "War and
Peace"? It's on the top shelf.
(Crow touches the bookcase, which immediately crumples in a heap,
almost burying him in books)
Mike: What do you think, sirs?
Dr.F: You just aren't cut out to be an inventor, are you, Max? Well,
anyway, you're (winks) really going to hate today's experiment. It's
a fanfic called "Mothers + Daughters".
Frank: Yeah, it's, er, really bad. We're not sending you a John Grisham
book or anything. (winks)
Dr.F: Send them the fanfic, Frank.
Frank: Right, Steve. Sending the "fanfic," not something they'll like!
(Lights, siren. You know the bit)
Mike: We've got fanfic sign!
6...5...4...3...2...1
> =====================================CUT HERE===================================
Mike: So close! I've really been wanting to read that new Grisham book.
Tom: So just re-read one of the old ones. They're all exactly the same,
anyway.
> [story/tng/Mothers+Daughters.zip] comment:
>
>
> -------------------------------------------------------------------
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> - -
> - If you have any submissions for the archive, please either -
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> -------------------------------------------------------------------
> Exploding: Mothers+Daughters
Crow: Aaaaarghh! Shrapnel! Oh, Mike, it's horrible! All those mothers and
daughters blown up, and the story hasn't even started yet!
Mike: Yeah, talk about a depressing way to start a Trek fanfic!
Tom: Oh, and I suppose you can think of a *good* way to start one?
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Tom: Mike, just kill me now. Please?
> Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!news.kei.com!ub!galileo.cc.rochester.edu!rochester!rit!isc-newsserver!ultb!jlp7831
> From: jlp...@ultb.isc.rit.edu (J.L. Pizor)
> Subject: Mothers+Daughters
> Message-ID: <1993Dec1.0...@ultb.isc.rit.edu>
> Sender: ne...@ultb.isc.rit.edu (USENET News System)
> Nntp-Posting-Host: ultb-gw.isc.rit.edu
> Reply-To: jlp...@ultb.rit.edu ()
> Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology
> Date: Wed, 1 Dec 1993 05:14:31 GMT
> Lines: 3638
>
> I got this idea last winter while daydreaming rather than paying
> attention in class.
Mike: Oh, great. Some kid wants to miss out on an education and we've
gotta suffer for it?
Crow: Y'know, Mike, the other guy was a lot more optimistic when these
things started.
> Anyway, it's a Next Generation story
Mike: You were saying?
Crow: Point taken.
> concentrating
> on Troi.
All: AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHH!!!
Mike: When I get back to earth, those two are toast!
> I'd appreciate any comments or suggestions:)
Tom: I think we can arrange that.
> (no flames
> please).
Crow: Well, that's aking a little too much.
> Please e-mail me at jlp...@ultb.rit.edu. Thanks and enjoy!
Mike: Enjoying your drink, Socrates?
>
> Mothers and Daughters
>
> by
>
> Julie Pizor
Crow: Hey Mike, we've never had a female author in an experiment, have we?
Mike: Well, I'm all for equality. Besides, maybe Julie's short for Julius.
>
> INT. HOLODECK
>
Crow: International Holodeck? Intellectual holodeck?
Tom: Intermediate Holodeck? Intentional holodeck?
Mike: It's Interior. That's a standard script abbreviation! You guys have
any idea how stupid you look when you riff on something that's right in
the first place?
Crow: You're not my *real* father!
>
> RIKER enters the holodeck. PICARD and DR. CRUSHER are
> already there, clad in 1940's apparel.
>
Tom: Meanwhile, Elliot Ness and his Untouchables stake out Al Capone's
speakeasy dressed in Starfleet uniforms. Paramount soon fires its
head of wardrobe.
>
>
> RIKER
> Sorry I'm late.
Tom: Oh, has the great Riker decided to join us?
> PICARD
> Are you ready for the adventure
> of a lifetime.
Mike: Willy Wonka's chocolate factory?
> RIKER
> I certainly hope so.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Where's Deanna?
Crow: Maybe her lawyer got her out of this fanfic?
> PICARD
> I don't know.
>
> RIKER
> It's not like her to be late.
Crow (As Riker): Well, there was that one time, back when we were dating.
Scared the hell out of me. We were *usually* careful, but...
Mike: Crow, this is warning number one. Don't push your luck.
> Picard taps his communicator.
>
> PICARD
>
> Picard to Counselor Troi.
Tom: Knight to queen's bishop three.
> There is no response.
Mike (As Picard): Damn it, I hate these answering machines.
> (CONTINUED)
>
> CONTINUED:
>
Crow: So, continued?
Tom: Yep. Pretty much.
> PICARD
> (continuing)
Mike: So, what is the author trying to say, here?
> Picard to Counselor Troi.
>
> INT. COUNSELOR TROI'S QUARTERS
>
> Troi is crouched against the wall next to her bed,
> hugging her knees. There are flames all around her.
Mike: I thought the author didn't *want* any flames!
> Debris from the fire falls from the ceiling.
>
> TROI
> Captain! Help! The fire's
> everywhere!
Tom (as Troi): Well, not techically everywhere. I mean. I don't know if
there's any outside the room. And of course, I'm taking up some of
the space inside the room, but you get the general idea!
>
> A large panal falls from the ceiling. Troi lets out
> a startled SCREAM.
Mike: How do you startle a scream?
Crow: The same way you tuna fish.
Tom: Ya want I should kill 'im, Mike?
> INT. HOLODECK
>
> RIKER
> What fire? Why hasn't the ship's
> censors detected it and put it out?
Crow: The censors only care if it's an x-rated fire!
Mike: I've warned you about spelling flames, buddy. One of your RAM chips
just took an acid bath!
Tom: But that was a different experiment! Different author!
Mike: What can I say? I stick with what works.
> TROI (o.s)
Mike: Okay, guys. This one's got me stumped. Off screen? On screen?
Tom: Oklahoma State? Orange Soda?
Crow: Ovum and Sperm? Oh, sh--
Mike: Enough, Crow! That's warning number two. Next time, I promise you'll
be sorry.
> I don't know.
Crow (as Picard): Well, get back to us when you *do* know. And good luck
with that fire thing.
>
> Troi begins to cough uncontrollably.
>
> TROI
> (continuing)
> Please help.
>
> (CONTINUED)
> CONTINUED:
Tom: I think these stage directions are a little too subtle.
> PICARD
> We're on our way. Picard out.
Mike: That's very honest of you, captain. but do you really think this is
the right time?
Tom: Captain Picard, do you think your friend Julio would like to carve?
> Picard to LaForge.
>
> LaFORGE (o.s)
Crow: Office of the Sheriff?
> Go ahead Captain.
>
> PICARD
> Counselor Troi's quarters are on
> fire. I want you and Mr. Data
> to go to engineering and check the
> sprinkler systems for any malfunctions.
Tom: 24th Century spaceships are still using sprinkler systems? I don't
think so.
> LaFORGE (o.s)
Mike: OPEC signatories?
> Aye Captain.
>
> Everyone exits the room.
>
> INT. COUNSELOR TROI'S QUARTERS
>
> The door slides open as Dr. Crusher, Riker, and Picard rush
> inside. The room appears perfectly normal.
Mike: Well, I mean aside from the raging fire and all that.
They begin to
> look for Troi.
Crow: Fortunately, they have her dental records.
> RIKER
> Deanna?
>
> INT. TROI'S BEDROOM
Tom: Wackachikawackachikawackachika...
> Troi looks very dishevelled as she sits against the
> wall.
> (CONTINUED)
> CONTINUED:
Tom: What is that, already? A commercial break?
> TROI
> Wil?
>
> She COUGHS loudly.
Crow: ...in an attempt to subtly alert him that his fly is unzipped.
Riker walks over to the bedroom door
> and peers in.
Mike: Crow, don't even think about it!
> Dr. Crusher starts to walk across the room
> when Troi suddenly becomes agitated.
>
> TROI
> Beverly, no!
Mike: Walking across other people's rooms is just plain wrong!
> DR. CRUSHER
> Deanna, what is it?
>
> TROI
> (coughing)
> The panel it's about to fall.
Tom: Oh, thank you, Counselor Nostradameus.
Crow: Damn cheap aluminum siding!
> Riker and Picard look around the room. Dr. Crusher
> continues to look directly at Troi. To their eyes,
> everything appears normal.
Tom: Of course, normal is a relative term, and this is Star Trek.
> DR. CRUSHER
> What panel? Deanna, to all of us,
> this room appears completely normal.
Tom: Ah, all the subtlety of Boyz in the Hood.
> Dr. Crusher walks over to Troi and kneels beside her.
Mike: She says a quick prayer to Manos, and offers Troi up as a sacrifice.
> She
> removes her tricorder from her pocket
Crow: Wait a minute! Starfleet uniforms have pockets now?
Mike: No, don't you remember? They're in 1940's costumes. Paramount
screwed up! Good thing she always takes a tricorder when she's
playing on the holodeck.
and quickly moves it
> around Troi as she has another coughing spasm.
Tom: She should really finish coughing before she leans over the patient.
Riker
> walks over and kneels beside her.
Mike (Torgo voice): Th-the Master has m-many brides. I w-want this one for
mys-self.
> RIKER
> Deanna, what's going on?
Tom: Oh right. Ask the patient. Wouldn't want to ask the one with the
tricorder, now would we?
> (CONTINUED)
All: "CONTINUED:"
> CONTINUED:
>
> Troi looks up at Riker. Through her eyes, the room is
> full of thick black smoke. Everything is on fire and
> debris falls from the ceiling.
Mike: Oh man, the flashbacks haven't been this bad in a while.
Terrified, Troi places
> a shaky hand on Riker's arm.
Tom (as Riker): Troi, that's disgusting! Whose hand is this, and where did
you find it?
> TROI
> (coughing)
> I see flames all around me. The smoke
> is so thick, I can barely breath.
> Please help me. I don't know what's
> happening.
Crow: Join the club, Counselor!
> Troi begins to cough uncontrollably. Riker puts his
> arms around her to stop her shaking.
Tom: Oh, that is so lame!
Mike: I think Richie Cunningham used that move!
Crow: Yeah, next he's gonna ask her sign.
> RIKER
> Doctor, is there anything you
> can do?
Tom: Damn it, Jim. I'm a doctor, not a...Oh.
> Dr. Crusher sits back on her heels as she places the
> tricorder in her pocket.
Mike: See? She *can* do something. Who says she's a useless character?
> DR. CRUSHER
> Amazing.
>
> PICARD
>
> What have you found?
>
> Dr. Crusher removes a syringe from her other pocket and
> places it at the base of Troi's neck. After giving her
> a shot, she places the syringe back in her pocket.
> She puts a hand on Troi's shoulder.
Crow: "The first one is free," she says.
Tom: What's this? Our buxom Betazoid babe dutifully dosed by a daring doctor?
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: Same bat-time...
> CONTINUED:
Tom: Same bat channel!
> DR. CRUSHER
> That should help the coughing.
>
> Dr. Crusher stands up and looks at Picard.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> (continuing)
Crow: Say what you will, but you've got to admire this story's continuity!
> Though there is clearly no fire
> in here,
All: Duh!
> Troi has massive amounts
> of smoke in her lungs.
>
> RIKER
> How is that possible?
Mike: Two words: Camel unfiltered.
> DR. CRUSHER
> I don't know. The shot I gave her
> should eliminate the smoke.
Tom: Ah, the famous anti-smoke injection.
> Troi begins to cough uncontrollably again.
Tom: Yeah, Beverly's got all the medical know-how of Frank Burns!
> Riker again
> tries to stop her shaking by holding her.
Crow: He's persistent, I'll give him that.
> Troi's coughs
> turn into choking sounds as she gasps for air.
Tom: You're <gasp!> holding me...too tight!
> Dr. Crusher kneels back down beside her. Troi suddenly
> passes out. Dr. Crusher runs her tricorder around Troi.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> This is bizarre.
>
> RIKER
> What?
>
Mike (as Crusher): Diet Dr.Pepper *does* taste more like regular Dr.Pepper!
> Dr. Crusher removes the syringe from her pocket again
> and gives Troi another shot.
Crow: We'll just put this one on your account.
> (CONTINUED)
> CONTINUED:
Mike: Why rub it in?
> DR. CRUSHER
> Her lungs are full of smoke again.
Tom: *You've* been a big help!
> After a moment, Troi regains consciousness. She blinks
> as she tries to clear her head. She sits up straight
> and looks around the room.
Crow: And you were there, and you and you...
> DR. CRUSHER
> (continuing)
> How do you feel?
>
> Troi begins to stand up. Riker jumps to his feet and
> helps her up.
Crow: Any excuse to paw her, right, Will?
> TROI
> Aside from a slight headache,
> I feel fine.
>
> PICARD
> Counselor, just a moment ago,
> you were afraid of the fire
> that was in this room. Do you
> still see flames?
Mike: You will after this fanfic's posted!
> TROI
> No. (pause) Captain, I know
> you must think I've gone insane,
Tom (as Picard): Well, it hadn't occurred to me, but you're the
psychologist. Mr.Worf, take her away and put her in a staight-jacket.
> but five minutes ago this room
> was on fire.
Mike: Sure it was. Doctor, I want to buy some of whatever was in that
injection.
> Picard and Riker look at each other.
Crow: There is hidden longing in their eyes.
> LaForge enters
> the room.
>
> (CONTINUED)
Mike: Not yet. Wait for it...
> CONTINUED:
>
> LaFORGE
> Captain, what's going on here?
> Data and I checked everything.
> There is nothing wrong with any
> of the sprinkler systems.
Tom: Now, let's see. That's fifty bucks for the service call, forty apiece for
labor...
> Troi sighs as she walks over to her bed and sits down.
> She drops her head into her hands.
Crow: ...leaving her neck a bloody stump.
> TROI
> Maybe I am losing my mind.
Mike: Well, let's check it out. Do you watch Beavis and Butthead?
> DR. CRUSHER
> Everything you think you saw did
> exist in your mind.
Tom: Yeah, that's pretty much what thinking means.
> PICARD
> I'd like to see everyone in my
> ready room.
Crow: Wearing nothing but...
Mike: Crow! (rips off Crow's arm and tosses it across the room) I warned you!
Tom: You know, some punisment borders on abuse. Like father, like son.
Think about it, won't you?
> (beat)
Mike: Ow!
Crow: Don't look at *me* for sympathy!
> I'm going to go change into something
> a little less casual.
Tom: My strapless evening gown!
> Dr. Crusher looks at Picard, and then at her own clothes.
Crow: Aw, c'mon, Mike! This one's wide open!
> DR. CRUSHER
> I almost forgot.
Mike: Does she have insurance?
> Everyone begins to leave the room.
>
> TROI
> I'll be there in a minute.
>
> (CONTINUED)
> CONTINUED:
All: We know!
> Troi stands up and walks over to a window.
Mike: ...absent-mindedly opens it, and is sucked out into the void of space.
> Riker walks
> over and stands behind her. He gently places his hand on
> her shoulder.
>
> RIKER
> Do you want me to wait for you?
>
> Troi hesitates before she answers.
Tom: You mean she doesn't continue?
> TROI
> No, I'll be fine. I just want
> to freshen up a little.
Mike (as Troi): By the way, we're just friends. Got it?
> Riker walks towards the door.
>
> RIKER
> If you need anything, just holler.
All: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!
> Troi weakly smiles to herself. Riker leaves the room.
Crow: ...which broadens her smile immeasurably.
> INT. READY ROOM
>
> Picard sits at the head of the table with Riker to his
> left, Dr. Crusher to his right, and Geordi and Data across
> from him.
Mike: So isn't that the conference room, then? All the ready room's got is
a desk.
Tom: Quite the little Trekkie, aren't you, Nelson?
> Troi suddenly walks in and sits down.
>
> PICARD
> Counselor, can you tell us exactly
> what happened.
Mike: Oh, right. Like little miss "He's hiding something" can say somthing
exact.
Tom: Well, at least it's not continued again.
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: D'oh!
> CONTINUED:
>
> TROI
> I got up for this morning's meeting.
> I got dressed, made myself a cup of
> hot chocolate, then put the mug down on
> my night table.
Mike: Okay, I was wrong! Could you be a little *less* exact?
> I turned around and the
> whole room was in flames. I thought it
> was kind of odd for this fire to suddenly
> appear,
Crow (as Troi): ...but I didn't think much of it, and just went about my
business.
> but when I tried to leave the room,
> I got burned.
Tom: Yes, only the best and brightest can join Starfleet!
> Then I started to choke from
> the smoke. I was about to ask the computer
> why it hadn't put the fire out when you
> contacted me.
>
> PICARD
>
> Hmm. Perhaps it was something you
> ate or drank.
Mike: Oh yeah, bad yams cause people to hallucinate fire and fills their
lungs with smoke!
> Mr. LaForge, run a
> level one diagnostic on the counselor's
> replicator.
>
> LaFORGE
> I'll get right on it.
Tom: It'd probably go faster if you stood next to it.
> PICARD
> Doctor, have there been any other
> similar incidents reported?
Crow: Not that I'd have expected you to bring this up earlier or anything...
> DR. CRUSHER
> No, not to my knowledge.
>
> LaFORGE
> It is possible that it's an isolated
> problem in the counselor's replicator.
Tom: Again with the replicator? You guys really have one-track minds!
> (CONTINUED)
All: Second verse, same as the first!
> CONTINUED:
>
> RIKER
> Could anything else be causing this?
Crow: Ya think?
> DR. CRUSHER
> I have an idea, but it's too
> early to speculate.
Tom: So I'm just gonna taunt you with it.
> LaFORGE
> Counselor, are you just seeing things
> or are they actually real?
Mike: So, Mr. Koresch, are you just a loon, or are you really Jesus?
> TROI
> They seem real. I know that panel I
> touched was certainly hotter then it
> should have been.
Crow: Oh, well that proves it, then.
> DR. CRUSHER
> And the smoke that you inhaled was
> certainly real. That's what worries
> me. It's one thing to have hallucinations,
> but it's another thing entirely when
> those hallucinations try to kill you.
Tom: But she's not worried that THERE WAS REAL FLIPPIN' SMOKE IN HER LUNGS???
> PICARD
> Counselor, has this ever happened
> to you before?
Mike: Oh, yeah. Now that you mention it...
> TROI
> No, never.
Tom: Guys, duck! Incoming!
> (CONTINUED)
Crow: Whew! We're safe now.
Mike: No, Crow! Get Down! They travel in pairs!
> CONTINUED:
Crow: Arrgh! I've been hit!
> DR. CRUSHER
> Troi, I'd like to see you in sickbay
Crow: Tonight? Say, about sevenish? Dress casual.
> to run some tests on you.
>
> TROI
> Alright.
>
> PICARD
> Until we figure out exactly what is
> going on,
Tom: Which could take years...
> I think we should all keep
> an eye out on the counselor
All: Eeeewwww!
> and also
> for any other similar reports.
>
> RIKER
> I agree. There's no telling
> what else could crop up.
Crow: Too easy.
> PICARD
> Are there any questions?
Mike: What's the capital of India?
Tom: How many roads must a man walk down before they call him a man?
Crow: What's Kim Catrell's phone number?
> There is no answer.
Tom: Big help.
> PICARD
> (continuing)
Mike: There's a shock.
> Dismissed.
>
> Everyone stands up and walks to the door.
>
> INT. SICKBAY
> Dr. Crusher and Troi enter sickbay together.
Tom: But only one will leave.
> Troi walks
> over to an examining table and sits down. Dr. Crusher
>
> (CONTINUED)
All: What?
> CONTINUED:
>
> picks up her tricorder and another small instrument.
Mike: It's a ukulele! Did I ever tell you guys I used to play...
Tom: We know, Mike.
> DR. CRUSHER
> Do you have any idea why this is
> happening to you?
Crow: You don't know either, huh?
> TROI
> No. None at all.
>
> Dr. Crusher takes the small instrument and moves it around
>
> Troi's head. She then presses some buttons on the
> tricorder.
Crow (high, squeaky voice): This week, on the Crypt--Take Two Aspirin and
Call Me in the Murder!
> DR. CRUSHER
> Hmm. There's a lot of neural
> activity in your solar cortex.
Tom: You have no idea what you're doing, do you?
> (beat)
Mike: Ow! Cut that out!
> I wander...
Tom: ...aimlessly from topic to topic.
> TROI
> What?
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Have you been able to converse with
> people telepathically?
>
> TROI
> No, I've never been able to.
Tom: Not unless you count the entire first season with Riker, or anytime her
mother's been on board, or...
Mike: Quite the little Trekkie, aren't you, Tom?
> DR. CRUSHER
> Well what about right now. Can you
> read my mind?
Crow: I want you to take a card. Now, you and I have never met before, right?
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: One mo' time!
> CONTINUED:
>
> Troi closes her eyes. She concentrates for a minute or
> two before opening her eyes again.
Mike (as Troi): Gee, opening them's a lot harder than closing them.
> TROI
> Nothing. Beverly, what is this all
> about?
All: Forty-two!
> Dr. Crusher walks over to a table and places her
> instruments down.
Mike: She picks up a gun! Run, Deanna!
> DR. CRUSHER
> I just had an idea of what might be
> going on, but it was just a hunch.
Tom: So I'm gonna keep you in the dark. Who is she, Reed Richards?
> Dr. Crusher walks back over to Troi.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> (continuing)
> There is nothing wrong with you.
Crow: ...that can't be cured with a good swift kick in the...
> I can't figure out what could be
> causing this.
Mike: Not all doctors are brain surgeons, if you know what I mean.
> Troi smiles.
>
> TROI
> That's alright. I trust you. I
> know you'll figure it out.
Crow: But you won't mind if I immediately contact somebody more qualified,
like the Psychic Friends Network?
> Troi hops off the examining table.
Mike: ...and skips down the bunny trail.
Tom: Guys? We gotta go.
Crow: Hey, grab my arm on the way out, will you?
(they exit)
> =====================================CUT HERE===================================
1...2...3...4...5...6
Tom: Welcome again to America's favorite game show, "Star Trek Solutions!"
Today our contestants are Mr. Mike Nelson, Mr. Crow T. Robot, and
Madame Gypsy! Contestants ready? Your first problem: You find three
dead crew members in the shuttle bay, dismembered and drained of
blood. Give your explanation and method of investigation for 10 points.
Mr. Nelson?
Mike: Uh, maybe a virus got on board the ship that causes your blood to
evaporate and your limbs to fall off. Run a level one diagnostic on
the transporters.
Tom: Good for eight points. Mr.T.Robot?
Crow: They were driven to suicide by something they heard on their
communicators. Run a level one diagnostic on all Communications
channels.
Tom: That's good for seven points. Madame Gypsy?
Gypsy: Uh, Richard Basehart.
Tom (whispers): No, Gyps, your answer to the problem!
Gypsy: They were murdered.I'd start looking for the guy who did it.
Tom: Oh! I'm sorry, Madame Gypsy, but that solution was too practical, and
you receive a two-point penalty. Next problem: The ship's sensors all
indicate that (lights flash, siren sounds) We've got fanfic sign!
6...5...4...3...2...1
> =====================================CUT HERE===================================
>
> (CONTINUED)
Crow: For those reading along at home, we will repeat the previous message.
> CONTINUED:
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> I think you should take it easy for
> the next couple of days.
>
> TROI
> I think you're right. I am exhausted.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Why don't you go back to your quarters
> and rest. I'll check in on you in a
> couple of hours to make sure you're
> alright.
Mike: By which time, going by what we've seen so far, she should be dead
from smoke inhalation.
> TROI
> Sounds like a good idea.
>
> Troi walks towards the door.
>
> TROI
> (continuing)
Tom: Guys, I've run out of jokes for that!
> I'll see you later.
Crow: But you won't see me...until it's too late!
> Troi leaves the room.
>
> INT. TROI'S QUARTERS
>
> Troi walks over to the replicator.
Tom: ...which blows up in her face. Death is almost instantaneous.
Crow: We should be so lucky.
> TROI
> Hot chocolate...never mind.
Mike: One hot chocolate nevermind comin' up.
> She walks into her bedroom when the doorbell rings.
Crow: No, Deanna, the door is the other way! Geez, you'd think she'd know
the layout of her own apartment.
> She
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: ...to curse her agent for not getting her out of this fanfic. She
prayed that it would end soon, but still it...
> CONTINUED:
>
> walks back into the livingroom.
>
> TROI
> Come in.
>
> The door slides open and LaForge and Data walk in the room.
Crow (Squiggy voice): Hello!
> LaFORGE
> Sorry to disturb you counselor,
> but the Captain wants us to check
> your replicator for any malfunctions.
Mike: Like if it creates the illusion of fire and fills your lungs with smoke!
> TROI
> Go right ahead.
>
> Geordi and Data walk over to the replicator and remove its
> front panel. Troi yawns.
Tom: Oh, is the great Troi bored by our humble tinkerings? Should we put
on a puppet show while we fix your stupid replicator?
> TROI
> (continuing)
Mike: Then suddenly stopping and collapsing in a lifeless heap...
> If you two don't mind, I'm going
> to take a nap.
Crow: Use the servants' exit when you're done.
> LaFORGE
> Alright, we'll try not to disturb you.
>
> Troi walks into her bedroom and lies down. Geordi and
> Data examine the replicator. They speak in hushed voices.
Mike (whispering): Okay, we're in, and she's asleep! The guys from the
frat said we had to get all her underwear and beam it into space!
> DATA
> Counselor Troi said she had hot
Mike: Crow, consider yourself warned.
> (MORE)
Tom: What, not continued?
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: That's better.
> CONTINUED:
>
> DATA (CONT'D)
> chocolate this morning. Perhaps
> that specific drink caused her
> illusions.
Mike: Yeah, one hot chocolate and I've got a buzz to last me all day!
> LaFORGE
> It's possible.
Crow: You *are* kidding, right?
> There's one way
> to find out. (beat)
Mike: Ow! What was *that* for?
> Computer,
> hot chocolate.
Tom: Brain the size of a planet, and they ask me for hot chocolate.
> The replicator whirs for a moment before producing a
> mug of hot chocolate.
Tom: ...that is almost, but not quite, totally unlike tea.
Geordi picks it up and smells
> it.
>
> LaFORGE
> Smells alright.
Mike: Well, that settles that. Let's knock off for the day. Ten-Forward?
> DATA
> May I see it?
>
> LaFORGE
> Sure.
>
> He hands the mug to Data who smells it. He then fills
> an eye dropper with the liquid and places a small drop
> on a pad on his tricorder.
Crow: ...which, not being waterproof, immediately shorts out.
> LaFORGE
> Well, what does it say?
>
> (CONTINUED)
Mike: Look for yourself! What are you, blind? Oops, sorry Geordi. I forgot.
Crow: So we're gonna ignore the "continued" thing this time?
> CONTINUED:
Tom: Yep. Pretty much.
> DATA
> It says it is made of coco beans,
> milk, sugar...
Tom: Natural and artificial flavoring, polysorbate 80...
Crow: Eye of newt, Wing of bat...
Mike: May contain one or more of the following...
> LaFORGE
> I know what's in it. Does it
> say what might be causing the
> counselor's illness?
Tom: Sure. It gives speculative medical advice, plus news, weather,
sports, and your daily horoscope.
> DATA
> No, it does not.
>
> LaFORGE
> Well I ran a level one diagnostic
> on the replicator and came up with
> nothing.
Crow: Guys, have they ever found out *anything* on this series by doing a
level one diagnostic?
Mike: Well, once they--er, I mean, I wouldn't know, Crow. I don't really
watch it that often.
Tom: Almost got ya that time, Nelson.
> DATA
> Perhaps it is not the replicator
> that is causing the counselor's
> hallucinations.
Mike: Give the man a cee-gar!
> LaFORGE
> Yeah, that's what I'm beginning
> to think, too.
Tom: By George, Higgins, I think they've got it!
> Geordi puts his tools back in their box.
>
> LaFORGE
> Come on, let's go tell the captain
> what we found.
Crow: Which is to say, nothing.
> They stand up and leave the room.
>
> INT. CORRIDOR
>
> LaForge and Data walk down the corridor.
>
> LaFORGE
> Do you have any idea what could be
> wrong with the counselor?
Mike: Feelings of inadequacy from never saying anything useful on this show?
> DATA
> Is it not common among Betazoids to
> experience similar symptoms as the
> counselor when a loved one dies?
All: Plot point! Plot point! Plot point!
> LaFORGE
> Hmm. I've heard of that happening
> before, but only on rare occasions.
>
> They stop in front of the turbo lift. The door opens
> as the two enter.
Tom: ...but there is no car there, and they fall down the shaft to their
deaths.
> INT. TURBO LIFT.
>
> LaFORGE
> Bridge.
Crow: Nah, I'm in more of a "Go Fish" mood.
> DATA
> Yes, but it is possible.
Mike: Incredibly unlikely and remarkably stupid, but possible.
> LaFORGE
> But you're forgetting Troi's
> only half Betazoid. If she
> were fully telepathic maybe.
>
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: ...reading of this fanfic may cause brain damage. Having warned you,
we would not feel at fault if you...
> CONTINUED:
> DATA
> Yes, but still it is possible.
Mike: Admit it! I'm right! SAY IT!!!
> The turbo lift slows to a complete stop. The door slides
> open and Geordi and Data enter the bridge.
>
> INT. TROI'S BEDROOM
>
> Troi awakes and sits up in bed. She grabs a robe and
> puts it on. She then stands up and walks into the
> other room.
Tom: ...where the dashing rogue, Brick Worthington is waiting for her.
> INT. TROI'S LIVING ROOM
>
> Troi picks up a computer date book.
Mike: Wow, you wouldn't think Troi would *need* computer dating. I guess
you just never know.
> She looks at it for
> a moment before dropping it back down on the table. She
> looks around her room, then walks over to the window and
> stares out at the stars.
Tom (singing): There...Out in the darkness...A fugitive running...
> Smoke softly billows into the
> room from under the doors. Troi continues to look out the
> window.
>
> LWAXANA (o.s)
Crow: I thought Troi was alone! When did Lwaxana get into this?
Mike: Maybe she's not. Maybe "o.s" stands for "Other Story."
> Little one. Help me. I'm dying.
Crow (scratchy voice): I'm comin' ta join ya, Elizabeth! This is the big one!
> Still looking out the window, Troi speaks to her mother
> telepathically.
Mike: ...having lied to the doctor about not being able to do that.
> TROI
> Mother? Where are you? What's
> happening?
Tom: Good questions. Maybe if she tells you, you, you could fill the
readers in?
> (CONTINUED)
Mike: No, no, no! Once more, but with feeling this time!
> CONTINUED:
>
> LWAXANA (o.s)
> The consulate is on fire.
Tom: We've got plot development!
> I've
> been trapped in here for over
> an hour.
Mike: You're complaining? I've been trapped in here for months now!
> The smoke continues to fill the room.
>
> TROI
> Why hasn't the fire been put
> out yet?
Crow: Nag nag nag nag NAG!!!
> LWAXANA (o.s)
> I don't know. (pause) Little
> One...I'm scared.
Mike: What if people get the idea this story is really a part of the Trek
continuity?
> TROI
> It'll be alright. I'm sure they're
> trying to put the fire out.
Tom: Course, they're not in a hurry or anything...
> Silence.
Mike (singing): ...like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach
you...
> TROI
> (continuing)
Tom: Naturally.
> Mother? Mother?
Crow: My mother was a saint!
> Troi turns around and sees the room filled with smoke. She
> starts to walk forward and immediately begins to cough.
> She takes a few steps and stumbles, falling to the ground
> and passing out.
All: Hooray!!!
> INT. SICKBAY
>
> Dr. Crusher pulls up her chair and sits down. She
> types something in the computer and begins to examine
> some records.
Tom: She's got Benny Goodman's Greatest Hits, the White Album, and K.C.
and the Sunshine Band Live at the Eastwood Mall.
> DR. CRUSHER
> Interesting.
Crow: But stupid.
> After a moment, she stands up and walks out of the
> room.
Tom: That scene was really critical to the plot!
Mike: Why would anybody need to pad a fanfic?
> INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE TROI'S QUARTERS
>
> Dr. Crusher rings the doorbell. There is no answer.
> She rings it again. No answer. She touches her
Crow: ...self in a way that no man has ever dared touch her. (Looks at
Mike) What?
> communicator.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Crusher to Troi.
>
> No answer.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> (continuing)
> Computer, where is Counselor Troi?
Tom: Brain the size of a planet, and she asks me to--
Mike: Servo, you did that one already.
> COMPUTER
> Counselor Troi is in her quarters
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Crusher to Security. Emergency
> enterance to Counselor Troi's
> quarters.
>
> The door suddenly opens.
Crow: A one-armed man pushes past her, and disappears into the night.
> Dr. Crusher rushes inside.
>
> INT. TROI'S QUARTERS
>
> Troi is unconscious on the floor. Dr. Crusher kneels
> beside her and checks for a pulse, then taps her
> communicator.
Mike: ...in time with that funky pulse. (sings) You're gonna win, you're
gonna go...
> DR. CRUSHER
> (continuing)
Mike: You're head of the pack, you're king of the--
Crow: Nelson, when I rip *your* arm off, you won't be able to fix it.
> Crusher to Transporter Room 3.
> Two to beam directly to sick
> bay.
>
> A moment later, Dr. Crusher and Troi begin to fade
> away.
Tom: So by the time the Transporter Room is ready to beam them out, they're
long gone.
> INT. BRIDGE
>
> Picard and Riker sit in their chairs. Data and Geordi
> walkover to them.
>
> PICARD
> Did you find anything?
Crow: Oh, yes. This pink chiffon scarf. Do you like it? It was on sale!
> LaFORGE
> No sir. The counselor's replicator
> is fine.
>
> PICARD
> That means something else is
> causing this.
Tom: He got to command the flagship of the Federation by being the tenth
caller, I'll bet.
> RIKER
> Do you have any ideas what it
> might be?
Crow (British accent): Cider? Apples? Very small rocks!
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: We'd like to apologize to the folks at home for these interruptions.
We honestly have no idea what they mean.
> CONTINUED:
>
> PICARD
> No, I don't, but let's hope the
> good doctor does.
Mike: The *good* doctor? You mean McCoy?
> Picard taps his communicator.
>
> PICARD
> (continuing)
> Picard to Dr. Crusher.
>
> DR. CRUSHER (o.s)
Crow: Operating Surgeon? Orbiting Satellite?
Tom: Overweight Sleepwaker? Optimal Setting?
Mike: Obvious Setup? Ordinary Sofa?
> I'm a little busy captain.
Crow (as Picard): No, *I'm* the busy little captain. You're a doctor!
> PICARD
> The counselor?
>
> DR. CRUSHER (o.s)
Tom: Or Somebody? Over-Sexed?
Mike: Ominously Serious? Ox-drawn Surrey?
Crow: Outgoing Showgirl? Oddly Sensuous?
> Very unconscious.
Mike: Some people have all the luck!
> PICARD
> We're on our way.
>
> Picard and Riker run towards the turbo lift.
Tom: Which doesn't open, so the hit the door at full speed.
> PICARD
> (continuing)
> Mr. Data, you have the bridge.
Mike: And this time I want it back *clean* for a change!
> DATA
> Aye, Captain.
>
> Data sits down in the Captain's chair.
Tom: And begins flipping channels.
> INT. SICKBAY
>
> Dr. Crusher moves the tricorder around Troi's body.
Tom: Have I done too many "wackachicka's" already?
Mike: You're kinda right on the edge. Better forget it this time.
> DR. CRUSHER
> Damn! It's the same thing as
> before.
Mike (deep voice): You've tried spraying, even powders. But you *still*
end up with ring around the collar.
> Dr. Crusher runs over to a cabinet and picks up a
> syringe. She gives Troi an injection in her neck.
Tom: Yep, it's the same thing as before, all right. Well, this didn't work
the other two times; may as well try it again.
> She
> moves the tricorder around Troi again. After a minute,
> Troi slowly begins to regain consciousness.
Mike: Deathwish 2, Noooo! Huh? Oh.
Crow: I don't get it.
Mike: I'll tell you when you're older.
> DR. CRUSHER
> How do you feel?
>
> TROI
> More scared and helpless then I've
> ever felt before.
Tom: Yeah, that's nice, but she meant physically. Save the soul-searching
for someone who cares.
> Tears begin to well in Troi's eyes.
>
> TROI
> (continuing)
> I know what's causing this to happen.
Mike: You mean the tears? We all do. When you get really sad...
> INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE OF SICKBAY
>
> Picard and Riker stop in front of the door to sickbay.
> The door quickly opens as they enter into the other room.
>
> INT. SICKBAY
>
> Picard and Riker walk over to where Troi is lying.
Crow: Okay, you're lying and we all know it. Now for the last time,
where's the money?
> Troi
>
> (CONTINUED)
Tom: ...to lie there, since the doctor had by this time drugged her up so
much she didn't dare try to walk.
Mike: Yet still, through the drugs, her memories of happier times and
better stories...
> CONTINUED:
>
> turns to face them.
>
> RIKER
> How do you feel?
Crow: You should know.
> TROI
> Tired...and scared.
Tom: Yeah, yeah, yeah. We're all weeping for you, okay? Anyway, here's
your stupid flowers and a get-well card. Some of us have work to do.
> Dr. Crusher looks at Riker.
Crow: His eyes meet hers. She gives him a coy smile...
> Dr. Crusher
> Well, we know what the problem is.
> We just don't know if there's a cure.
>
> PICARD
> You know what's causing this?
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Yes. I had an idea, but actually,
Tom: ...I decided to hide it from all of you, and just watch her die.
> it was Troi who confirmed it after
> she regained consciousness.
>
> RIKER
> Well, what is it?
>
> Dr. Crusher looks down at Troi.
>
> DR. CRUSHER
> Do you want me to explain it, or
> do you want to?
Mike: Look, I don't care if you put it on CNN! Just clue the readers in, okay?
> (CONTINUED)
All: SHUT UP!!!
> CONTINUED:
All: We said, SHUT UP!!!
> TROI
> (weakly)
> Why don't you. I'm still a little
> tired.
Crow: Big surprise after all those injections!
> DR. CRUSHER
> Basically, Troi has established
> some kind of link with another
> Betazoid who is in either grave
> danger or who is actually dying.
Tom: And therefore perfectly safe.
> She is experiencing events as that
> other person experiences them.
Crow: So has the other person been getting shots in the neck every two
minutes?
> RIKER
> Do you know who she has established
> this link with?
Mike (whispering): The dwarf!
> Dr. Crusher does not answer. She slowly looks at Troi.
> Troi hasitates before slowly answering.
Tom: And really, you can just feel the suspense mounting. You're on the
edge of your seat, aren't you? Admit it. You're waiting with baited
breath.
> TROI
> My mother.
All: Was a saint!
> Riker looks at Picard who has a shocked look on his
> face.
Crow: "I had jello today!"
> PICARD
> Have you tried to contact Lwaxana?
Tom: Well, not unless you count the whole mind-link thing.
> DR. CRUSHER
> Yes. We're too close to an asteroid
>
> (MORE)
Crow: Oh God, yes! More! More! Please, more!
> (CONTINUED)
Mike: Okay, now I'm just mad! What *is* that?
> CONTINUED:
Tom: Maybe the author intended it as a much-needed break from the building
tension?
> DR. CRUSHER (CONT'D)
> belt. We couldn't make a clear
> transmission.
Crow: Oh, come on!
Mike: How muh creativity does it take to come up with a believable reason
that they can't communicate?
> Picard pauses for a moment before he taps his communicator.
Tom: Hoping to catch it off guard this time.
> PICARD
> Picard to bridge.
>
> DATA (o.s)
Mike: Office Stationary? Orange Stripes?
Tom: Olive Seeds? Omar Shariff?
Crow: Occult Spirits? Oval-Shaped?
> Bridge here.
>
> PICARD
> Set a new course for Betazed.
>
> DATA (o.s)
Crow: Odorous Sewage!
Tom: Orca Strikes!
Mike: Ow! Stings!
> Aye Captain.
>
> Troi sighs and looks up at the ceiling. Riker places
> his hand gently over Troi's.
Crow: Over Troi's what?
> RIKER
> I'm sure everything will be fine.
>
> Troi looks at Riker.
Tom: She can't believe what a total goober he is.
> TROI
> She's scared Wil...and so am I.
>
> Riker smiles weakly.
Crow: Check local listings for exact time and station.
> (CONTINUED)
Crow: That's it, Mike. I can't take it anymore. I demand that you kill me.
Mike: Aw, come on. You can make it. We've seen worse than this.
Crow: Mike, we both know there's gonna be another "continued," and then
it's just gonna go on like this!
> CONTINUED:
Tom: Guys, it's time to go.
Mike: And not a second too soon. let's get out of here.
>
> =====================================CUT HERE===================================
1...2...3...4...5...6
Tom: The worst part is, we know they'll send us the rest of it later.
Mike: Try not to think about it, guys. Let's read a letter. This one's
from Elisabeth Simone, and she writes, "Dear Mi..." What's happening?
(begins coughing) Fire...everywhere. (Coughs) Mom?
Tom: Mike, this is really lame. Nobody's buying it, so why--
Magic Voice: (CONTINUED)
Crow: Magic Voice, did you say something?
Magic Voice: CONTINUED:
Mike: Fire all over...Mom! Mom! (Coughs, and passes out)
Tom (continuing): What do you think, sirs?
(Deep 13)
Frank: Must've been something he ate.
Dr.F: Right. Frank, when you get a chance, do a level one check on the
Satellite of Love's refrigerators. No hurry. Well, until next time,
Nelson. Push the button, Frank.
\ | /
-- --
/ | \
DISCLAIMER:
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and all related characters and images
are the property of Best Brains, Inc. Star Trek: The Next Generation, and
all related characters and images are the property of Paramount. This was
an unauthorized MiSTing of an unauthorized fanfic, and was meant in the
spirit of fun. No personal offense was intended to the author, the
creators of the characters, or the reader. Complaints regarding this
posting should be addressed to one of your friends who complains that they
don't get enough mail.
> (CONTINUED)
>
>
> CONTINUED:
--
__________________________________________________________________________
| Harlan Freilicher | "Eeew! Even the dog is grossed out!" |
| har...@acpub.duke.edu | -Crow T. Robot |
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
David White
Bravo! This was one of the best MiSTings I've seen in a while. I'm not
even sure why, but jokes that point out the plot holes always seem to be
more fun. Two favorites:
> PICARD
> Doctor, have there been any other
> similar incidents [of the illness] reported?
Crow: Not that I'd have expected you to bring this up earlier or anything...
> PICARD
> Did you find anything?
> LaFORGE
David White
I think that some of the best jokes on MST3K come when Joel/Mike and the
'bots can take a scene and make a joke that gives a COMPLETELY different
interpretation of it. (e.g. from Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, when women
wearing conical hats are dancing around, "Say, these Klan meetings have
really lightened up!) Harlan had some good ones in his
"Mothers/Daugthers" MiSTification:
>> Terrified, Troi places a shaky hand on Riker's arm.
> Tom (as Riker): Troi, that's disgusting! Whose hand is this, and where did
you find it?
>>Troi sighs as she walks over to her bed and sits down.
>> She drops her head into her hands.
> Crow: ...leaving her neck a bloody stump.
;-)
(waiting for part 2)
=-=-= David =-=-=
dsw...@gibbs.oit.unc.edu