[MiSTed] "CivStory" (1/2)

[Mike Barklage]

MiSTed: "CivStory"
with short: "The Creepy Guy Saga"
by Mike Barklage (Chirpy the Mutant Hellbeast)
bark...@ucsu.Colorado.edu

Hello all! This is my fourth full-length MiSTing. But before we begin,
I need to make a few explanations.

The short at the beginning is actually two AOL posts from KeijiKJ, also
known as the Creepy Guy, or ScaryGuyWithBots. For those who weren't at
the Con and don't know who I'm talking about, this is the guy who was
talked about on-line for a month after the Con was over. He dressed up
as Joel for the entire weekend (not just the Costume Party), carried
around semi-accurate renditions of Tom and Crow, talked endlessly about
those bots to anyone who would listen, and said BBI Toolmaster Jef Maynard
feared for his job after seeing how much better KJ's bots were. He
also sneaked into the BBI Studio Press Tour and was forcibly removed,
plus a whole host of other embarassing things.

These posts were taken from the early parts of the flame war in the MST
folders on AOL, before it descended into puerile name-calling. It was
basically KJ (calling himself "BOTMASTER") versus everyone else... are
you surprised?

Anyway, here you go. Comments welcome, as usual.

In the not-too-distant future...

6...5...4...3...2...1...*

[Scene opens on SOL bridge. Crow and Tom are both doing something.]

TOM: A greeting and question of occupation.
CROW: An answer. Something cleverly hip.
TOM: A conversation ensues.
CROW: Biting, witty remark.
TOM: Indignant retort.
CROW: Insulting yet witty commentary, with the phrase, "Bite me,"
thrown in somewhere.
TOM: <begins shaking> Violent threats in a loud tone of voice.

[Mike enters and puts his hands on the bots in a calming gesture.]

MIKE: Soothing, non-inflammatory words.
TOM: Explanation of anger.
MIKE: Unexpected and funny response.

[Gypsy enters.]

GYPSY: Richard Basehart!

[Gypsy leaves. The Mads' light flashes.]

MIKE: <hitting button> Obscure pop culture reference.

[Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is looking puzzled. He opens his mouth to say
something, then closes it, then opens it again.]

DR.F: Just what are you doing, Weiner Boys?

[SOL.]

CROW: Hilarious response!

[D13.]

DR.F: Oh, I see. <looks puzzled again, then shakes his head> Whatever.
FRANK!

[Frank enters.]

FRANK: Yes, Your Immenseness?
DR.F: Load up today's experiment, will you?
FRANK: Right-o, Steve!

[SOL.]

MIKE: Forrester derisively describes the experiment and includes several
insults directed at us.

[D13.]

DR.F: Your experiment today is... hey, you can't predict me like that!
No, not Clayton Forrester! I'll show you! Your experiment today,
my friends up in space, is a delightful piece of fiction from
alt.startrek.creative called "CivStory." It is preceded by
an intellectual short from the Creepy Guy, who is a wonderful
human being in his own right. I sincerely hope you enjoy it!

[SOL. Lights and buzzers are going off.]
,
ALL: CLICHED CATCH PHRASE MEANT TO IMPLY PANIC!!!

1...2...3...4...5...6...*

[Mike and the bots enter the theater.]

MIKE: Oh, that *is* fun, isn't it?
CROW: Biting social commentary!

> Subj: Re:Hmm...

TOM: <Homer Simpson> Hmmmm... AOL posts...

> Date: 95-01-06 01:50:50 EST
> From: Keiji KJ

CROW: Oh no! It's the Creepy Guy!!!

>
> I dunno...

MIKE: ...much about proper social interaction.

>
> I dress like Joel,

TOM: You think you *are* Joel. There's a difference.

> my wife wasn't there (and the only call made to her was by
> me-'Love you, wish you were here', that sort of thing).

CROW: I love you, you love me, yadda yadda yadda...

> Best Brains has been
> friendly enough, (just got a letter from them last week),

TOM: Probably telling him he's been stricken from the Info Club.

> the bit about
> fragile is my guess as to why the original ones weren't on display (don't
> know why really-haven't asked). Besides, what does 'better ' mean, anyhow?
> Jef's rendition and mine

MIKE: Jef Maynard doesn't make 'renditions,' he makes originals.
CROW: Original whats?
MIKE: Uh... muffins.
CROW: Oh.

> were for two different purposes: his have to be made
> fast, because he has a really heavy workload, and has to make a lot of props
> fast.

TOM: So you're saying Jef does things fast?

> My design was based on the idea that they would have to be as strong
> as possible to take transporting and knocking about.

MIKE: Insane maniacal bot abusers! Next on Geraldo!

> Also, mine had to be
> designed so they could be disassembled quickly,

CROW: <Number 5> No disassemble!

> and with only a screwdriver.

TOM: Still have that drinking problem, eh?

> They are rigged so they'll do anything any of the bots in the show ever did
> as well.

MIKE: These bots are rigged to explode if they go below 50 MPH.

> Darn it, you've gone and goaded me into going on in a log winded,
> boring fashion about my 'bots again!

TOM: Ha ha ha... KILL HIM!

> Keep in mind that if you get a prop
> guy to start talking, he'll go on forever about how to
> cast urathane.

CROW: Keep in mind to bite me.
MIKE: Eww! What you do in the privacy of your home is *your* business, KJ.

>
> As to attending future events, well, I wonder why they sent the letter with
> the 'sorry we didn't acnowlege your journalist credentials sooner' message.

TOM: Me too, since I doubt they ever sent one.

> Besides, how can you revile someone you don't know to any extent, and have
> had relatively little contact with?

CROW: Easy. Through on-line services.

> It's remotely possible that what you say
> has some tiny grain of fact in it (I tend to crack really bad jokes, and I do
> go on about my props too much; so it's no telling how many people I might
> have rubbed wrong).

MIKE: If there were 2000 people at the Con, I'd say, roughly, 1999.

> Your post as a whole just doen't relate to reality.

TOM: Ironic, isn't it?

> Anyhow, how would YOU know? Do you work there?
>
> As to anyone elses Crow, there was one, count 'em, attempt at Crow (besides
> my own, of course) ,

CROW: Of course.

> the owner of which was so overwhelmed by my construction
> that he hid it in his room.

ALL: <siren noises>
CROW: Ego alert! Ego alert!

> I encouraged him to bring it out, complemented
> him, and gave him my card along with an offer to help him locate the parts he
> didn't have. I don't see how you can get any nicer than that.

TOM: Or anymore condescending.

>
> As far as I know, he didn't carry it around much after that because it broke
> in transit, so he was a little embarrassed.

MIKE: As opposed to *my* bots, which can survive a free-fall from 10,000 feet.

>
> I'd think that it's unlikely that the Brains would want to harass little 'ol
> me.

CROW: It's the other way around, KJ.

> For one thing,
> it wouldn't be in their best interests. I'm currently at work on two
> articles, one of which I'm hoping to make the definative work on the subject

TOM: On the subject of articles?

> (with some help from Sampo).

MIKE: Ah, so you're friends with M Sampo...

> Certianly if they expressed a lot of (certianly
> unwarrented) hostility toward me, well, that would tend to color what I
> wrote.

CROW: Blackmail. Works every time.

>
> Besides, it think if there was any real problem there,
> Sampo would have mentioned it "Hey dude, they're not gonna let you in again".

TOM: Like, whoa, Sampo's a surfer dude!

> But really, as far as they 're concerned, they could have no way of knowing
> if I decided to send someone else (an assistant, my wife, a friend, etc.
> etc.)

MIKE: That's the point, KJ. Send someone else, but *not you*.

> And of course, if I had to do that, what I would say about it in print
> would certianly be uncomplimentary.

CROW: Nanny nanny boo boo.

>
> Besides, I made Trace laugh so hard he clutched his
> groin; that's gotta count for something.

MIKE: You gotta wonder what he was laughing *at*.
TOM: We're getting into a whole weird area here.
CROW: Who's Trace?
MIKE: Uh... Crow, I'll explain when you're older.

>
> Finally, I think you are jumping to WAY too many conclusions

TOM: About what? Trace clutching his groin?

>
>
>
>
> Subj: Re:Fourth post.

CROW: Do you get the feeling we're jumping from conversation to conversation?

> Date: 95-01-20 01:35:32 EST
> From: Keiji KJ
>
>> Second of all, Sampo, can you explain to me too what the deal is in the
>> botmaster folder?

MIKE: Sampo, what's Vietnam?

>
> No, I've got a better Idea. Let's discuss it publicly.

TOM: *sigh* Oh great, here we go again.

>
> Dumping out all the blatant lies and pure hogwash Sampo and his buddies have
> said, or are saying, what happened is:

MIKE: Whoa! Suddenly Sampo's not your friend anymore.

>
> I, 'Botmaster,

CROW: I object to that.

> went to the MST con. While there, I brought my 'bots (Tom &
> Crow),

TOM: Hey! We're not your bots!

> which are the best ones that have been done outside of the Brains. I
> also wore a very nicely done red jumpsuit, ala Joel.

MIKE: I see his ego has survived this flame-war unscathed.

>
> Well, reasonably enough, I am pretty proud of my constructions,

CROW: "Reasonably proud"? More like "head so large you can't fit through
doorways."

> so
> I suppose Sampo and his buddies felt that I was a little too pleased with
> myself.

TOM: Yeah, that's it, KJ. They're jealous of you.

> Also, I tell a lot of bad Jokes, so I told a few that Sampo and his
> mob didn't like.

MIKE: We report ta Sampo, see? Youse keep quiet and yer family don't get
hurt.

> By the appearance, they were following me around taking
> notes,

CROW: No, word gets around about really annoying people.

> because apparantly Sampo has used his very good connections to see to
> it that the brains have heard every joke I made, quoted out of context and
> with appropriate distortions.

TOM: The Sampo Conspiracy... next on the X-Files.

>
> So, at least according to Sampo, the Brains don't like me anymore , because
> of the above.

MIKE: No, they don't like you because you turned the Con into something
twisted and evil.

> Also, he and his lynch mob have treated every effort I've made
> to explain, or to try and create some sort of understanding,

CROW: "Every effort"? Um... I count zero times.

> with some very
> unreasonable nastiness. So you say the posts in the 'Botmaster file scared
> you? Well, Sampo and his buddies posted those messages.

TOM: All of them, including the ones from 'KeijiKJ.'

> I think being
> shocked by their sheer rottenness is a very reasonable reaction.

MIKE: So is being afraid of KJ.

> They've even
> recieved warnings from AOL.

CROW: But I haven't. Nosiree. I wasn't anywhere *near* my own folder.

> Keep in mind that all this came from my doing
> something they just didn't happen to like; what's going to happen to YOU if
> you do something they don't like?

TOM: Let this be a lesson... to *you*.

>
> Remeber ZOMBIE NIGHTMARE?

MIKE: Ugh. Boy, do I ever.

> The bad guys in that movie were a group of kids
> that did things they knew were wrong, because they thought that anything they
> did as a group was OK.

TOM: They were the Keating Five.

> This kind of group is called a CLIQUE, and Sampo and
> his friends are definately a Clique.

CROW: Yep, AOL is just like a junior high school that way.

>
> You can't abuse people because they are different from you. It is
> unacceptable to slap nasty names (like 'Creepy Guy', for example), on people
> you don't understand.

MIKE: We understand you. We just don't *like* you.

> And Sampo has no authority to give people orders, not
> to you, and definately not to me.

TOM: Sampo controls us all! HE PULLS THE STRINGS!!

>
> -'BOTMASTER

CROW: Once again, I object.
TOM: Let's split, gang.

[Mike and the bots leave the theater.]

6...5...4...3...2...1...*...

[SOL. Mike is in the background typing on a typewriter. Crow and Tom
are in the foreground.]

CROW: Okay, are you ready, Mike?
MIKE: Ready!
TOM: All right! Let's start off, "Dear Mr. KJ..."
CROW: No, no: "Dear Mr. Creepy..."
TOM: Right, okay. Ahem. "Dear Mr. Creepy. We hope this day finds you
in good health, and your basement workshop nice and warm."
CROW: "We are writing to inform you that you are a loser, so why don't
we kill you."
TOM: No, don't say that.
CROW: Um, okay, scratch the Beck reference. "Never have we been graced
by the presence of a greater lunatic than when we met you at the
Con. Your mere presence was enough to wake us screaming in the night
for the next 3 months."
TOM: "We know your life revolves around us. That's why we're scared of
you. So next time there's a convention, please stay at home with
your oh-so-perfect constructions, your jumpsuit, your ego, your
paranoid delusions, and your Cindy Crawford gifs."
CROW: "If we ever see you again, we have a whole bunch of forklifts
revved up and set to kill. And in conclusion, bite me!" Woo-hoo!!
TOM: "Signed, Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot."

[Tom and Crow whoop it up while Mike takes the paper out of the
typewriter.]

MIKE: Okay, that's it! Now all we have to do is put it in an envelope,
slap a stamp on it, and send it in the mail!

[The room falls uncomfortably quiet.]

TOM: Um... you don't suppose Dr. Forrester would send it for us?
MIKE: Naw, probably not.
CROW: Oh...

[Buzzers, lights, and the whole shebang.]

ALL: AAHH!! WE GOT USENET SIGN!!

1...2...3...4...5...6...*...

[They enter the theater.]

CROW: Well, there goes a great idea down the drain.

>
>
> From: j...@tivoli.com (Joseph Young)
> Date: 11 Jan 1995 12:30:00 GMT
> Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Subject: AUTOPOST: CivStory.zip (part 01/01)

MIKE: Sid Meier's CivStory.

>
> This is an automated reposting of fiction from the alt.startrek.creative
> archives.

CROW: *sigh* Gee, this looks familiar.
TOM: Mike, why there are *so many* bad Star Trek fanfics out there?

> This is archive file: story/tng/Michael_Errante/CivStory.zip
> Any comments, questions, etc. about the archives may be
> addressed to j...@tivoli.com.

MIKE: It's like Hollywood, I guess. The system is set up so that there
are more bad fanfics out there than good ones. Besides, bad TV
breeds bad fiction.

> =====================================CUT HERE===================================
> Exploding: story/tng/CivStory
> Organization: Freshman, Art, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA

TOM: Oh, joy. A freshman art major.
CROW: He's got it wrong -- you don't become an art major until you've
flunked all of your engineering courses your freshman year.

> Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu

MIKE: He's just zees guy, you know?

> !cis.ohio-state.edu!news.sei.cmu.edu!fs7.ece.cmu.edu!crabapple.srv.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!me1g+
> ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
> Message-ID: <Ee3ehBO00...@andrew.cmu.edu>
> ~Date: Mon, 11 May 1992 13:13:49 -0400
> ~From: Michael Paul Errante <me...@andrew.cmu.edu>
> ~Subject: Civ Paper
> ~Lines: 718
>
> OK people here is the paper I wrote for my Civ class. I am sending this
> as my very last message this year to this board.

CROW: Thank god for small favors.

> Any coments should be
> sent to my e-mail address. I should have enough space for a bunch of
> short comments.

TOM: I hate it when my shorts get bunched.

>
> Hope ye like it.

MIKE: ...at the Renaissance Festival!
ALL: HUZZAH!

>
> ###############################################################################
> #
>
>
>
> Scene: Outside shot of the Enteprise orbiting a red orange planet.
>
> Picard voice over: Captains Log Stardate 60107.4023.

TOM: <Picard> I miss my mommy.

> We have just
> finshed repairing the damage to science station on Seemu 3 and are proceeding
> to leave orbit for a rondeavouz with the Hood.

CROW: Yo, Picard's a homeboy N da Hood.

> I am hopeful that our journey
> will go without interuption for my crew has earned a rest.
>
> Scene: Main bridge. Worf is at tactical, Riker is in his chair.

MIKE: <Riker> Hey, do you mind? I'm on the throne here!

> Troi is in hers', wearing her blue dress uniform. Data has navigation and
> Wes is at the con.

TOM: Oh no! First Creepy Guy is at the Con, now Wesley Crusher!

> Several nameless ensigns are at the stations behind
> tactical.

CROW: Hi, we're extras.

> The captian enters from his ready room.
>
> Riker stands: We are ready to leave orbit sir, just waiting for your
> command.
>
> Picard, sitting in his command chair: Ensign Crusher plot a course
> heading 345.8 by 764.3.

MIKE: In other words, down a bit and off to the right?

> Warp 4.
>
> Wes: Course set and laid in sir.

CROW: <Wes> But *I'm* not.

>
> Picard:Engage. Number one you have the bridge, I will be in my
> quarters.
>
> Riker: Can't wait to finish that book, eh captain.
>
> Picard: Yes Will, I just love Shakespeare. I am just finishing with
> Hamlet right now.

TOM: A "Shakespeare fan" who hasn't read Hamlet?!

> I can't wait to see how Ophelia reacts to the news of
> her fathers death at Hamlets hands.
>
> Nameless Ensign #1: She kills herself.
>
> Picard: What?

MIKE: <Picard> How did you get a line?

>
> Nameless Ensign #1: She kills herself, goes batty and thinks shes a
> fish. It's all very beautiful. (He turns around, it is Q) At least thats
> what I've been told.
>
> Picard: Q.

CROW: R.

>
> Cut to opening.
>
> Picard voice over: Space the final frontier. These are the

TOM: ...seemingly neverending...

> voyages
> of the Starship Enterprise. It's ongoing mission to explore strange new
> civilizations, to . To boldly go where no one has gone before.

MIKE: I guess they don't feel like seeking out new life, or exploring
strange new worlds.
CROW: How pathetic. A Trekkie who can't even get *this* part right.

>
> Lots of nifty space shots, and the Enterprise zooming all over the
> place.

TOM: Help! We're out of control!!

>
> Commercial-

MIKE: Mentos: the Freshmaker!

>
> Scene: Outer shot of the Enterprise in warp. Title in the upper
> right corner. ATW-Q.
>
> Picard: Q.

CROW: Oh no, we hit a wormhole!

>
> Q: Pi-card.

TOM: Pi-card, any card.

>
> Riker: What the hell do want Q?
>
> Q: Commander Riker, still the silver tongue aren't we.

MIKE: Is that an invitation?

>
> Picard: Q!

CROW: Picard just can't seem to get past that.

> What are you doing here. I thought you out exploring
> dead civilizations with Vash.

TOM: No, actually I was just exploring Vash.
CROW: <rim shot> Ba-dum-tss!

>
> Q: She got, well, upset when I brought an extinct lifeform back into
> existence and it mauled a team of archeologist.

MIKE: The *nerve* of her!

> So I left her there to help
> them patch things up. What have you been up to to Picard? Read any good
> books lately?

CROW: <Picard> Only Howard Stern's.

>
> Data: Captain Picard was remarking on a book when you made your
> presence known, and since you did comment on it you already know the answer
> to the question,I do not understand your reasoning for the question.

TOM: Ya know, Data gives us 'bots a bad name.

>
> Q: It was a joke you insufferable android.

MIKE: Not a very good one, but still...

> Something you are not
> capable of understanding.
>
> Worf: Captain, permission to escort our 'visitor' off the bridge.
>
> Q: Try it and end up a cow.
>
> Data: There are several religions where being a cow is considered an
> honor. The Hindus of Earth, the Deraks of Glorfinch, the Semba of...

CROW: Data, for the sake of all robots everywhere...
ALL: SHUT UP!!!

>
> Picard: Not now Mr. Data. Permission denied Mr. Worf. What is it
> you want Q.

TOM: I want someone to fix the '?' key on this guy's computer.

>
> Q: I just want to be friends, Jean-Luc.
>
> Riker: Sir, I say we just ignore him, maybe he'll get the hint and
> go away.
>
> Picard: I only wish we could, but I think that solution is not a
> possibility.

MIKE: That didn't work with Fabio, either.

>
> Q: Stop talking about me as if I'm not here, it really bugs me. Now please,
> just hear me out.

CROW: <Perot> Can I finish? Will you let me finish?

>
> Picard: As if I could stop you.
>
> Worf: I could try.

TOM: Worf is stupid that way.

>
> Troi: Commander, I am sensing intense hostility from Leutenient Worf.

[Mike and Tom groan, but Crow laughs.]
TOM: Why are you laughing, Crow?
CROW: <stops laughing> Oh, I thought this was a parody.

>
> Picard: What is it that you are going to do to us Q. Get on with
> it or leave.

MIKE: <Picard> Just be gentle.

>
> Q: Well, it has come to my attention that you don't have a firm
> grasp on the interconnectedness of things.

TOM: What things?
MIKE: Well, you know, *things*!

>
> Riker: Just what does that mean.
>
> Q: It all very zen. First you have to understand the collective
> unconscious.

CROW: Oh, is the great Q going to give us a Civ lecture?

>
> Wes: What's the collective unconscious.

TOM: Why do I sound drugged.

>
> Data: Accessing.

MIKE: ...the Internet. Reading alt.sex.stories. Fascinating!

> The collective unconscious is a term coined by
> Karl Jung on twentieth century earth. The basic idea behind it is that all
> the experiences of every sentient being in the universe can be accessed and
> used by those who follow them.
>
> Wes: Oh, I may have to do an experiment on that someday.

CROW: What, an experiment to see if warp engines have a collective
unconscious?

>
> Q: You do that kid. I'm sure you'll find something out, or kill
> your mom again.

ALL: <cheer>

>
> Wes: That was an accident, I was just trying to improve...
>
> Picard: Please Wes, we have more important things at hand than you.

ALL: <cheer again>
MIKE: I can't tell you how satisfying this whole exchange is!
CROW: Do you think Dr. Forrester sent us a *good* story by mistake?
TOM: No, I'm sure it gets worse somewhere ahead.

> What are you getting at Q.
>
> Q: Well I was trying to explain that you have no sense of
> continuity.

MIKE: Neither do Star Trek writers.

> Sure you occasionally run into someone you've met before but
> you never see the reprocussions of what you've done. if you did you would
> realize that you should be at war with the Cardassians, after all the last
> time you looked they were gearing up for a war.
>
> Picard: SO they thought twice about attacking us. Who would blame
> them.

TOM: <Picard> Hell, if I were them, *I'd* attack me twice.

> I know how the past can come back to haunt you, look at what happened
> with Yar.

CROW: Poor scripts? Bad acting?

>
> Q: Yes what happened with Yar. Is her legacy dead or will her
> granddaughter come back for revenge next.

MIKE: It all depends on when Denise Crosby needs money again.

> You know nothing of how one thing
> can affect an entire civilization.

TOM: Take Spam, for instance.

>
> Riker: And I suppose you are going to show us.
>
> Q: I had just planned on telling you but since you suggest it. Let's
> give it a try.

CROW: Hey! Since when has anyone listened to *Riker's* suggestions?

>
> Q snaps his fingers,

MIKE: ...and whistles a happy tune.

> and disappears in his usual flash of light.
> Another flash at each of the bridge crew disappears, except the nameless
> ensigns. Troi and Wesley.

CROW: <Wes> Now's the time to make my move!
TOM: <Troi> Forget it, geek.

>
> Scene: England, 1601. Picard appears in a flash of light alone. He
> is dressed in a simple frock and worn trousers, both brown.

CROW: Good thing they're brown, too, because --
MIKE: All right, Crow.

> He glances around
> in disaray.
>
> Picard: Q, where are you?

TOM: Who Q? Where Q?

> What have you done? I demand that I be
> put back on the Enterprise immediately.
>
> Wandering Person #1: Oi, mister you best not be talkin' to yerself.
> Someones gonna take ya as a crazy and trow ya in da loonie bin.

MIKE: Oi'm Cockney, ya know!

>
> Picard: My fine man, would you care to tell me in which city I am
> in, and , ah, what the date is.
>
> Wandering Person#1: Sure mister, yer in W England, and it's
> June 14 1601.

CROW: How did he pronounce the "W"?
TOM: And why is West England considered a city?

>
> Picard: How very interesting. Thank you.

MIKE: <Picard> Now get away from me, peasant.

>
> Scene: Roman hall. Worf appears, he is missing the head ridges.

CROW: And of course, he is not alarmed at all that he is missing a vital part
of his anatomy.

> He is wearing a white toga. A group of men are conferring near him. He
> slips behind a column to conceal himself.

TOM: I'd want to, also. Those togas are worse than hospital gowns!

>
> Senator #1: We must strike now, for the good of the Empire.

MIKE: The Empire Strikes Back!

> Caesar must die.

CROW: Caesar Must Die(t).

>
> Senator #2: We must be unanimous, are ye with us Brutus.

TOM: So Worf has been transported into Shakespeare festival?

>
> Brutus: I...I do not know. Caesar is my friend, he has put his
> trust in me. I cannot betray that.
>
> Senator #1: The good of the Roman Empire comes before any one man,
> even Caesar.
>
> Brutus: True, but is it necessary to...k...k...kill him.

MIKE: Porky Pig in a role that will surprise you...

> Could we
> not try to reason with him.

CROW: Uh... we're not.

> Show him he is hurting the Empire. He would
> listen.
>
> Senator #3: Caesar is not the man we once knew.

MIKE: He's started wearing angora sweaters.

> His mind has
> changed since he has gotten power over the entire Empire.
>
> Brutus: Ai, I know what you say is truth, it is just hard to accept.
> I am with you. May Caesar forgive me, I am with you.

TOM: Let's go, guys.

[They leave the theater.]

6...5...4...3...2...1...*

[SOL. Open on a close-up of Tom Servo.]

TOM: Hello, folks! For this host segment, we thought it would be funny
if we compared the crew of the Enterprise to a really dysfunctional
family! So let's sit back and see what happens...

[Cambot pulls back to show the entire bridge. Mike is in the center of
the bridge area. He is wearing a "bald wig" and holding some beer.]

MIKE: <Picard> Ah, nothing beats a good bottle of cheap beer. Makes the
pain go away. No where is that good-for-nothing son of mine?

[Crow enters. He has a Riker-style beard.]

CROW: <Riker> What the hell do you want, dad?
MIKE: Don't swear at me, boy. I'm your father.
CROW: Only biologically. I see you've been hittin' the Earl Grey again.
MIKE: What's it to ya? I'll get drunk when I wanna! And right now, I
want you to go down to the store and get me more booze!
CROW: But I was just going to go hang out at the pool hall!
MIKE: You'll do nothing of the kind, you deadbeat! Now get me more beer!

[Gypsy enters, pauses, and starts to leave again.]

MIKE: Just where do you think YOU'RE going, young lady?
GYPSY: <Troi> I'm... uh... going to Beverly's to do some homework.
MIKE: Don't lie to me, Deanna. I know you're going to see that biker guy
Worf!
GYPSY: So what if I am!
MIKE: So what?! Why, you just bought yourself a two-month grounding! Get
up to your room and stay there!
GYPSY: It's my life! You can't control me!!

[Gypsy storms out. A few moments later, Tom enters.]

TOM: <Wes> What's going on?
CROW: Come here, you dog-faced nerd!
TOM: Don't hurt me!

[Crow pushes Tom over, who lands on the floor with an thud.]

TOM: Daaaadd!!!
MIKE: Now, now, son. Take your beatings like a man.

[Tom hoverskirts out.]

MIKE: Now are you going to get me some booze, Will?
CROW: I will not! I'm going to the pool hall whether you like it or not!

[Crow leaves.]

MIKE: You come back here this instant!
CROW: <off-screen> I hate you forever!
MIKE: Oh yeah? Then I'm leaving you out of my will, er... Will! Do you
hear me?! You can't do this to me! I'm Jean-Luc Picard, dammit!
I'M JEAN-LUC PICARD!!

[Suddenly lights and buzzers go off.]

MIKE: AH!! WE GOT USENET SIGN!!!

1...2...3...4...5...6...*