MSTed: Night of the Next Generation 6/14

[jnevins]

My MSTing: The Deadly Boring Fanfic

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Mike: Let's take the path less traveled by, shall we?

>From: "Todd A. Bobenrieth" <TA...@PSU.EDU>

Crow: "Todd A. Bobenrieth" - he sounds like the guy who always
has to fight the villain in wrestling matches - you
know, the one who gets bodyslammed about thirty
seconds into the match and has to be taken out on a
stretcher?

>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

Tom: Well, we should be grateful for one thing - at least some
of these people who post to alt.startrek.creative
aren't out in the bookstores bothering women.
Mike: I know what you mean. (geek voice) Eennnnhhhhhexcuse me,
are you a fan of the Star Trek books like me? Have
you checked out the sex scene between Riker and
Troi heeennnnnhhhhhh...

>Subject: REPOST:Night of the Next Generation (6/14)
>Date: 27 Mar 1996 21:53:03 GMT
>Organization: TAMBOFILMS

Crow: Little Hack Tambo, in this case.

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Mike: Wasn't Tevye played by Mozilla Stel once?
Crow: I think that was Zero Mostel, Mike.


VI

It was some kind of castle, he was sure of it.

Tom: Xanadu - stately home of Charles Foster Kane. Cost - no
one can say.

The walls were rough stone, and dripping with moisture. This was
probably the dungeon, but he couldn't be sure.

Crow: Picard's pulse quickened as he realized that, yes, he
had finally been accepted into the downstairs area
of the Hellfire Club.

Suddenly the large wooden door opened. Helooked up and saw a large
shadow looming in the frame.

Mike: If this were a film we'd be seeing the same thing.

He tried to extend hishand in a show of good faith, but could not.

Tom: After all, it's Patrick Stewart, and "good faith" simply
isn't in his vocabulary.

It was then he realized his hands were locked in clamps attached to
a long chain from which he now hung.

Crow: Picard grew excited as he realized he was about to learn
the true meaning of the phrase "glory hole."

Confused he looked to the apparition.
It extended an arm in his direction, and beneath him the floor
opened up, exposing a large and very deep pit was exposed.

Mike: That sentence is just _too_ easy.

And then he heard the voices.

Tom: This is the part that *Martin* identifies with.

There must have been thousands of the, chanting his name. And they
were coming from the within the pit.

Tom: Give us Barabas! Give us Barabas!
Crow: Or at least an overrated British hack actor!

He looked backup at the apparition and tried to plea for mercy, but
his tongue had been cut out and all he did was spray blood on the
stone floor.

Mike: Now that's just darn rude of Picard. Someone's gonna
have to mop that up...
Tom: And you know how hard it is to get bloodstains off of
marble...

The apparition reached over and wrapped it's fingers tightly around
a wooden lever--fingers without flesh, he realized in horror.

Tom: Is that like Eyes Without A Face?
Mike: Well, yeah, except that was Franju - and this is from
*Martin* and *Todd*.
Crow: I thought that was Billy Idol?

With a flick of it's wrist, the apparition threw back the switch
and the chain release.

Crow: (game show host voice) To expose a NEW CAR!

The last thing Captain Jean-Luc Picard saw before he woke up,

Mike: Was some white-trash android with a mustache saying
"Wake up - time to die."

was the thousands of bony skulls at the bottom of the pit, looking
up at them with thousands of eyeless sockets, grinning with
thousands of pairs of extremely sharp looking teeth.

Tom: Well, you don't feed pre-schoolers their milk and
cookies, that's the look you get.

* * *

The turbolift doors whipped open, and Picard stepped out onto
the bridge, still pulling on his uniform shirt.

Crow: Over his girdle, probably.

He walked over to the sciences station where Data sat perched over
the console.

Mike: Quoth the Data - nevermore!

"Data, have you gotten through to the away team yet?"
The android turned from the console to fac his Captain. He
noticed that the Captain looked extremely pale, and was nervously
rubbing his right arm.

Tom: Looks like *somebody* has been chasing the dragon....

"Negative, sir. Commander Riker is not responding my hails."

Crow: (Picard) Mr. Data, you are well aware that Commander
Riker only replies to "Hail, Caesar!" Now try again
- correctly, this time.

"Well try again!" Picard demanded.
"Yes sir." Data turned back to the console and touched a few
controls. "Enterprise o away team. Come in away team."

Mike: It's just darn rude of the home team to try and disrupt
the pre-game warmup of the visitors this way...

Silence. He tried again.
"Away team, this is Lieutenant Commander Data. This is an
emergency transmission, priority Alpha One. Please respond."

Tom: (snide geek voice) If that were *Uhura* they'd respond...

Still no answer.
"Could the nebula be interfering with transmissions?" the
Captain inquired.

Crow: (Data voice) Why are you always asking me stuff like
this? Can't Worf or Riker do some work around here?

"Negative, Sir," Data replied. "The communicator indicates that it
is receiving our hails. The power level is at 83.2%, but that
should be enough for at least a 30 second transmission. The
problem is that the away team is not responding."
"But whyData, why?" Sweat had begun to bead on Picard's face.

Tom: I'm sweating - why? They cancelled my series, and now I
have to work for a living - why? And why won't Emma
Thompson go out with me - why, why, why???

"Unknown, sir."
The Captain's brow furrowed. "Well, have someone contiue to
try. In the meantime, come with me. I need you down in sickbay."

Mike: (Data voice) But what about *my* needs, Captain?

Data turned and instructed a nearby Ensign before following Picard
into the turbolift.

Tom: (Data voice) Repeat after me, Ensign: Doe, a deer, a
female deer.
Crow: (Jerry Lewis voice) Doe, a lady deer with the female
thing and the thing with the thing....

* * *

The thing that used to be Lieutenant Rodriguez had calmed down
quite a bit.

Crow: (guttural hellbeast voice) Gotta remember what the
therapist said...deal with my anger
constructively....

It had run out of things to smash and was now feeling along the
walls of the examining room. The blue glow which had surrounded it
earlier wa now noticeably dimmer.

Mike: Ah, the FFG - I remember it well.

Four security guards stood at-ease outside in the main oom, and two
stood outside the door to sick bay.
"What do you make of it, Data?" asked the Captain, nervously.

Tom: (Data voice) Well, I can make a paper hat, and an origami
platypus, and a nice dolly, and...

Data was scanning through the wall with his tricorder.
"These readings I am getting from the Lieutenant

Crow: Indicate that he could use Hooked-on-Phonics.

appear to match the ones I recorded from the nebula, sir." He
looked up. "At first indication it appeared I wasn't

Mike: Not to be too much of a geek here, guys, but isn't Data
the one who can't use contractions?
Tom: True, Mike, but that's expecting consistency and research
from *Martin*, and you're just not gonna find that.
Crow: Talent, either.

getting any readings from the creature at all, but instead just
interferane from the nebula. Whatever is animating that body is
definitely made from the same material."

Tom: A nice light chiffon, perhaps, or a sleek silk...

"What about phasers?" asked the Captain. "Wy didn't the phasers
stop it?"
"It would appear that the substance acts like some sort of
energy damper," the android explained. "Our phasers, rather than
stopping it as expected, instead feed it giving it more power." He
pointed to the monitor and Picard's eyes followed.

Crow: Data's tight metal hinder, and Picard wondered - not for
the first time - if what Tasha Yar said about
Data's "abilities" was true.
Mike: That'll be enough, Crow.
Crow: But I'm not done yet, Mike.
Mike: Yes, you are.

"As you can see by the diminishing glow, this power does fade
slowly with time. In order for it to continue functioning, it
would have to feed again."
"But how did it get so strong before we hit it with phasers?"

Mike: Soloflex. This could be your undead body. This is how
plump, fleshy, delicious *living* women with
*brains* will look to you. This is how your undead
dog will look at you. This is the number to call.

The Captain continued to rub his arm.
"The human brain sends a form of electrical impulse to various
parts of the body to perform basic functions.

Tom: The human brain sees the body as a series of ones and
zeroes...

I would hypothesize that the Bannister, it apparently energized
itself enough to the point ofnurse mobilization."

Tom: Raising incoherence to new heights, ladies and gentlemen,
let's give it up for....*Martin*!

"Damn," Picard muttered. He glanced back at the Monitor.

Crow: Closing in on the Merrimac, I hope.

"What do you think it's doing now?"
"It would appear to be taking in it's surroundings by
examining every corner of the room," replied Data.
"It's loking for a way out,

Mike: If it finds one, I hope it'll let us in on it, too.

is that what you're telling me?" asked the Captain.

Tom: I'm beginning to feel a little bit better about how
*Martin* portrays Beverly. After all, he makes
Picard look like a dim bulb, too.
Crow: Oh, like _that's_ hard.

"In a sense, yes. It would appear that some human brain activity
remains after death.

Crow: We could find out by scanning Milton Berle.

Probably only rudimentary functions and basic instinct, but some
nonetheless."

Tom: Roughly at the level of most Republicans.

"What is it? What does it want? How does it take ove bodies like
that?" The Captain stroked his arm, glaring at the monitor.
"Unknown, sir, I would need more time to study it." responded
Data.
"Captain?"

Tom: -s Courageous?
Crow: Howdy?
Mike: Jinks of the Horse Marines?
Tom: Blood?
Crow: Ned?
Mike: First Mate Hodo?
Tom: Chief O'Brien?
Crow: McCloud!

Picard and Data walked over to where Dr. Crusher had called them.
Nurse Bannister lay on her sick bay bed, here face a cold dark
blue.

Mike: Man, I hate it when they overdose on Paas Easter Egg
colors...

"She's dead," said the doctor, closing her tricorder.

Tom: Y'know, you've gotta be some sort of humorless
stinkypants moron to put "she's dead" in a Trek
fanfic and _not_ follow it up with "Jim."
Crow: People like *Martin* give Trekkies a bad name.
Tom: Actually, Crow, I think some Trekkies do a fine job of
that on their own.

Beverly draped the bed sheet over the nurse's head.

Crow: (Beverly voice) And when I pull the sheet back, she'll
have disappeared! Now, we've never met before, have
we, sir?

"Whatever it was, nothing we did would stop it."

Mike: Beam it into space? No, why bother - let's just give up
now.
Tom: Same old Picard. "Sir, there's a distress signal coming
from a stranded Betazed freighter."
Crow: (Picard voice) Signal our surrender.

Picard turned to Data. "Ok, get a team in here and analyze that
thing.

Tom: (sports announcer voice) Next up on our analysis team, a
six-a ten soph-a-more from Jackson, Mississippi....
Loooooo-cious Harris!

I want to know what it is and where it cam from.

Crow: (De Niro voice) I want it dead! I want its house dead!
I want its wife dead! And I want to stand on the
ashes at midnight, and...oh yeah, it's dead
already, isn't it? Then...uh...I want it alive! I
want its wife alive! I want its house alive!

If this is some kind of new life form, we'll need to study it
better."

Mike: Is this life form going to be on the final exam,
Captain?

"Yes sir, and what about the away team?"
Picard rubbed his arm.

Tom: WOULD YOU LAY OFF THE ARM! Geez - we get the point,
already.
Mike: I'm beginning to wonder if there's some sort of Freudian
significance to this arm thing.

"If there are more of those things over there, they are in definite
danger." He slapped his comm-badge.

Crow: If they see any more comm-badges, they're in trouble?

"Picard to bridge."

Mike: Worf to transporter room three. Check and mate.

"This is Lieuteant Sanderson. Yes Captain?"

Crow: Derek Sanderson's on the Enterprise? Oh, well, that
makes it okay then - he'll just cross-check the
undead into oblivion.
Tom: (Don Cherry voice) That's what's wrong with Starfleet
today - they got too many Europeans who don't wanna
play defense and get tough!

"Any luck getting through to the away team?"
"None sir, still no reply, but we'll keep trying."
"Very well. Picard out."

Tom: Whoopi still in closet, nobody sure about Spiner, and
Wheaton a hermaphrodite.

The Captain turned to Data.

Mike: (singing) To every android turn, turn, turn...

"We may have to send a rescue party over to get them out. I'll see
to getting one organized.

Crow: My dad's got a barn - we could put on a show!

In the meatime, you have a job to do."
"Yes sir," answered Data.
Picard spun around and headed out of the room, bound for the
bridge in hopes of somehow communicating with Commander Riker and
the others.
Over on the Rickover, the sub-phase communicator lay abandoned
on the deck plates in the midle of a pool of fresh blood.

Mike: Almost half-way there, guys.
Tom: Mike...I'm losing hope.
Mike: You can't give up, Tom - we can beat this guy.
Crow: Do we get a treat?
Mike: Yup - in fact, Gypsy's got Hostess Snowballs for
everyone right now.
Crow and Tom: Yay!