MiSTing: A double-shot of Trekfic
ramblin...@my-deja.com
In the not-too-distant future...
[Satellite of Love. Tom and Crow are engaged in heated debate.]
Crow: Kirk!
Tom: Picard!
Crow: Kirk!
Tom: Picard!
Crow: Kirk!
Tom: Picard! [enter Joel]
Crow: Kirk!
Joel: Why, for the love of small animals, what do you knuckleheads
think you're doing?
Tom: Joel, please explain to this cretinous aardvark that Picard was
the very essence of a true Starfleet officer.
Crow: <mimicing Tom> Moel, mease mexplain...
Tom: Cut that out!
Crow: Make me!
Joel: All right, all right. That's enough. Hi, everyone. I'm Joel
Robinson of the Satellite of Love, and I've got to settle me a debate
between my 'bots Tom Servo and Crow about who was the doutiest Trek
Captain of all.
Tom: There's nothing to debate! Picard was a diplomat extraordinaire,
an aristocrat compared with that rutting ape Kirk.
Crow: Oh, come on! He was bald!
Tom: Yeah, well Kirk wore a girdle!
Crow: Did not!
Tom: Did too!
Joel: All right! Guys, I have to say I'm disappointed in you. Surely
you realize how little point there is in these schismatic fanboy
battles. Some prefer Kirk's petulant daring, others prefer Picard's
robotic professionalism. It's really just a matter of taste. How much
energy is worth wasting over these minor opinions? It would be like
Star Wars fans flaming each other over whether The Empire Strikes Back
is superior to Return of the Jedi.
Crow: That does sound pretty silly.
Tom: I mean, obviously Empire is superior...
Crow: No it isn't! Jedi rules!
Tom: Ewok-lover!
Crow: Cynic! [Joel sighs]
Magic Voice: Commercial sign in 5...4...3...2...1...Commercial sign now.
Joel: We'll be right back...
[A series of commercials in which people injure themselves to
demonstrate the dangers of paying
too much car insurance]
[SOL. The argument rages]
Tom: I mean, an entire legion of the Emporer's best troops beaten by a
army of teddy bears! You expect me to swallow that?
Crow: They used guerrilla tactics!
Tom: They threw rocks!
Joel: For Lucas' sake! Don't you realize there's no way you'll win?
Magic Voice: Of course they realize it, Joel. This is just another in
a long line of over-played segments in which you all act stupid for the
camera and pretend these minutiae are of any value. I've been watching
you for years. You all know you're being watched, that the whole point
is for the audience to be amused when you mock the posting, but you
insist on playing up the "host" angle, like anyone cares. I'm sick of
it!
Joel and the Bots: We're sorryyyyyy....
Magic Voice: By the way, the Mads are calling.
[Deep 13]
Dr. F: So, debating, are we, my little descalped rats? Why don't you
put up your invention exchange and show us some real argument!
Frank: You tell 'em, Oh Master of All Things Naughty.
Dr. F: Not now, Frank.
[SOL]
Joel: Well sirs, my invention exchange is a response to the brand new
bane of the music industry, MP3's. It's great to be able to get any
music you want from the internet, but we think the technology doesn't
go nearly far enough. Wouldn't it be great if instead of getting good
music from the internet to your computer, you could use your computer
to get rid of bad music on the internet? Well, we thought so, too, and
thus, the MP4. Cambot? [Cambot pans left to reveal an iMAC with
camoflauge coloring. Joel sits at it.] A few well-placed strokes...and
Britney Spears is no more.
Crow: But what about her clones?
Joel: Her what?
Tom: Clones. You know, Cristina Aguilera...
Crow: Mandy Moore...
Tom: Bree Sharp...
Crow: Oh, I like her song...
Tom: She's cute, too...
Crow: Yeah.
Joel: Waddya think, sirs?
[D13]
Dr. F: I'm surprised, dillmeister. That invention has surprisingly
evil possibilities. It's a shame they don't have Abbey Road on MP3.
Frank: I like Abbey Road.
Dr. F: You would! Get the invention exchange! And be careful of the
thimbles! [Frank exits] As Frank brings out my next triumph of
wickedness, I'll tell you about your experiment. Like yourselves, we
had a bit of a debate here at Deep 13 involving Star Trek. Our
conundrum was in which of two horrific fanfics were vile enough to make
you squirm. Our decision: Both, of course! Thus, you get a double-shot
of literary maggotry on the corpse of the Next Generation. I hope
you've had your dramamine, boy. [Frank enters]
Frank: Uh, Dr. Forrester?
Dr. F: Where's the invention exchange, Frank?
Frank: Well, there was this squirrel, and he was hungry and I tried to
shoo him away, but he got hold of one of the nipples and...
Dr. F: For the last time, Frank, they're thimbles! Thimbles! [turns to
screen] You get your experiment a bit early, Robinson Crusoe, savor
it...[turns to Frank] I should hire that squirrel to be my lab
assistant, you tol-chocker! Send 'em the post!
[SOL]
Joel: Tom, I'm not deleting every copy of "Stairway to Heaven" from the
'net.
Tom: Oh, come on...just for a lark?
Joel: No. [lights flash] Oh, we've got USENET sign!
{6...5...4...3...2...1}
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Joel: I wonder what got into Magic Voice.
Tom: I dunno.
Crow: alt.startrek.creative: Bringing shame to the title of "Trekkie"
since 1991.
>Path:newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!hobbes.physics.uiowa.edu!math.
>ohiostate.edu!uwm.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!hearst.acc.Virginia.EDU!ruaca
>d!rucs!cleake
>From: cle...@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu (Charles R. Leake)
>Subject: The Misadventures of Crag/ repost
>Message-ID: <CLA9z...@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.edu>
>Organization:
Tom: Doubtful.
Crow: Hell-spawned.
Joel: C'mon guys, don't blow all your wad on the leaders.
>Radford UniversityX-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL0]
>Date: Tue, 15 Feb 1994 20:52:37 GMTLines: 93
>
> Crag, a young Ferengi, was
Crow: butt-ugly.
>sitting on a small rock. In front of him was
>a huge group of other young Ferengi. In the center of chaotic bunch
>was a very old Ferengi.
Tom: I'm getting a very Ferengi vibe from this story so far.
>The old Ferengi walked slowly through the crowd, occasionaly
>stopping to whack some of the young Ferengi.
Joel: I like this story...
Crow: <old Ferengi> "It's a Ferengi message. It means Otho sleeps with
the changelings."
>As this old Ferengi passed by Crag he
>stoped. Crag jumped back a few feet, fearful that he was to be the
>next victam of this old Ferengi wicked whacks.
Tom: Now there's a phrase.
Joel: "Old Ferengi Wicked Whacks. Perfect for your next Whacking
party."
Crow: Joel, riffs like that are my job.
>But the old Ferengi just stood there and looked at Crag.
Tom: Drooling to beat the band...
Joel: "You're the little bastard who stole my hernia donut."
>Then the old Ferengi waved his hand at another Ferengi, who looked much
>older than most of the gathered crowd and wishpered something in his
>ear. The old Ferengi then countined to plow through the crowd of
>young Ferengi.
Joel: I need a volunteer to count the number of times "Ferengi" is used
in this story.
Crow: Mememe!
Tom: Oh, Me!
Joel: Sorry, Tom. Crow had his hand up first.
Tom: Ohhhh...
> After the old Ferengi left, a group of older Ferengi walked up to
>Crag.
Joel: "All right, Crag, we all got together and voted you out!"
>Crag not want to have anything to do with them started to run, but the
>other group was faster.
Crow: Do you want to go faster?
Tom: You're supposed to be counting.
Crow: Oh, yeah...
>Not knowing what to do Crag struck at them. Only to find
>himself at the recieving end of a bunch of vicious chops.
Joel: Hikeeba!
Tom: Ferengi chops with noodles, please, and no duck sauce!
>As the group beat the stuffing out of him, the old Ferengi returned to
>watch the fight.
Joel: Is this story suggesting that Don King is a Ferengi?
Tom: I think Ferengis have too much conscience.
Crow: <Don King> Star Trek be besmirchified!
> In under ten seconds Crag was out for the count. When Crag
>came to he awoke in a starship. This struck him asunder
Crow: Man, this kid's gettin' beat on!
Joel: Count, Crow?
Crow: Uhhh...fifteen so far.
>for he had never been in a
>starship before. Crag had a small problem, he was cluasterphobic.
Tom: That IS a problem...
>This small tiny room was to much for Crag. He ran for what he thought
>was a door.
> Well Crag was dead wrong, it was not a door but a engineering
>panel. Again he down for the count.
Joel: Next week, a very special episode of "Crag, the glass-jawed
Ferengi"
>This time the Ferengi who took him where not so
>stupid and strapped him down to a chair. As Crag came to he saw the
>old Ferengi again.
Crow: <007> Do you expect me to talk, Old Ferengi?
Joel: <Old Ferengi> No, Crag, I expect you to fetch a handsome profit!
> This time the old Ferengi was talking to Crag. The old
>Ferengi told him he was a choosen one, one of the few who would add to
>the great Rules of Aquation and that he(the old Ferengi) was a Old
>One, the great mystic who manged to rip off half the know universe.
Crow: And the painkillers helped Crag to buy it.
Tom: He's a Chosen One, a sacred person, and so they continuously beat
the tar out of him?
Joel: Better than being crucified.
Tom: True.
>He handed Crag a penical,
>a piece of paper, some cash (yes a rare thing for a Ferengi do but he
>looked at Crag as an investment), and a crowbar.
Crow: <Crag> Now, we'll have some beatings! Bow before the Chosen One!
Tom: Does this mean he's going to bring balance to...ummm...never mind.
>As the old one walked out he hit a
>switch. A strange green fog filled the room. The Old one did it
>agian this time itwas with a gas.
Joel: You know, Old Ferengi, that's not what they mean by "Drop the
Chalupa."
Crow: Ewwww...
Tom: Joel!
> When Crag came to, he awoke in a grassy field. Relived to
>find that he was no longer in the Starship. He looked over himself,
>he still had his book (the book on the Rules of Acquastion), his
>pocket calclator (to calculate profit)
Crow: <Crag> Look at all of this grass! I'm rich! Rich, I tell ya!
Tom: Fascinating! This story unearths facets of the Ferengi character
hitherto unexplored!
Joel: Like their well-hidden lust for financial well-being?
Tom: Indeed!
>of course lacking the 2D battaries, and all the stuff the Old One gave
>him. (But than again, the Old One borrowed the wallet that Crag hid
>in bottom of hissocks).
Tom: All right, who could have lived with out ever thinking about a
Ferengi's feet?
Joel: I hope the Old One isn't smelling that wallet.
Crow: Yeccch...
> All of a sudden Crag got a deep craving for food.
Joel: <Crag> I keep smelling the Old One's Chalupa!
Tom: Aaaaagh...
Crow: Joel, what's with you today?
Joel: Just feelin' saucy...
>Well it just happened
Crow: Thanks to author-magic...
>that across the grass field there was a house. So Crag walked over to
>it. As he got closer to the house he noticed a pie sitting on the
>window ledge. So beening like a good Ferengi,
Tom: Okay, I know grammar comments are passe, but what the hell does
"beening like a good Ferengi" mean?
Joel: I don't know.
Crow: Twenty-two times now.
>he "borrowed it". Well after finshing the pie it started to rain.
Joel: So he tooted his horn for the passing lane...
> Crag did not want to get wet so he ran towards the house.
Crow: Crag's a sharp one...
>Just his luck there was a garage for him to hide in and dry off. So
>he ran towards it. When arrived at the garage door, he found it
>locked. Well this got Crag mad so he used his
>crowbar on the lock. At first it did not seem to work. But in a fit
>of anger he manged tosomehow pop the lock off.
Tom: Well I'm just at the edge of my seat...
Crow: Joel, what's gonna happen next?
Joel: Now boys, just read the fanfic.
> Well being the good Ferengi, he opened the grage door and ran
>in.
Tom: So having the sense to come in out of the rain is strictly a
Ferengi trait.
Joel: A "good Ferengi" trait, Tom.
>Sitting in the garage was a shuttle craft. The craft made Crag
>curious. So he walked up to it and started to press the strange
>buttons on its side. All of a sudden the side door came flying open.
Crow: Time for Crag to lose consciousness again.
Joel: When Crag came to, he was surrounded by dancing Chihuauas.
Tom: No more late night Taco Bell. Ever.
> Crag decided, he need to make some profit so he walked in to
>the craft and started studying the buttons.
Crow: Hey, just like Christa McAullife!
>Well Crag had never been in one of these
>things before, but he had the general idea on how to fly it. So he
>kicked the control panel cursing his luck that he had a cool toy but
>he could not use it.
Joel: Why you shuttlecraft, I oughta...
Crow: Try the crowbar again!
> Well his kick did something and it turned on. So being like a
>good little Ferengi he flew off in the shuttle craft out into great
>expanse of space.
Tom: So a Galaxy-class starship gives him such claustrophobia that he's
running into walls, but one measley shuttlecraft and he's Buck Rogers?
>But as he flew off he add the following passages to his "Book".
>rule 247 - If it is not bloted down it mine, if it is we have crowbars.
Joel: It mine! OG!
>rule 248 - If does not work kick it.
>Hence we have rule 247 & 248 in the The Book.The End?
Crow: Well if you don't know, how are we supposed to figure it out?
>Special thanks to Steve Ratliff,
All: GAAA!
>who tried to keep the story on a sort of Star Trek theme, of course he
<failed.
Crow: Hee hee!
Joel: The truth hurts.
>But he did give me some good ideas and he did
>help greatly to this story. Agin thanks Steve oh yhea, sorry about
>all those spellingand grammar errors but I have a severe case of
>Deslixy.
Joel: Don't you feel ashamed, Tom.
Tom: Sorry, sorry.
>Of course all flames will be returned to sender.
Crow: Oooh, I'm scared...
>email- cle...@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.eduaddress- Charles R. Leake, Jr.
> Box 7257 Radford, Va 24142phone- 703 831 1211.
>IF YOU LIKED IT AND WANT TO SEE MORE EMAIL ME AT:
>cle...@rucs2.sunlab.cs.runet.eduESLEif you hated email me to
>we are deciding wiether to kill him off or not!
>SO CAST YOUR VOTE TODAY BEFORE IT IS TO LATE!
>
Tom: It's too late...
Crow: Grand Total: Twenty-four uses of the word "Ferengi"
Joel: Let's get outta here...
{1...2...3...4...5...6}
[SOL. Joel stands behind a podium while the 'bots are dressed like
reporters.]
Joel: So that's why Commander Sisko is the best choice for a Republican
Vice-Presidential candidate.
Crow: Aaaaahhh...
Tom: I see, but Joel, there's still one thing puzzling me: How will any
Republican come to grips with Sisko's on-again, off-again relationship
with radicals in the Maquis, not to mention how easy it will be to tar
him with being "soft on wormholes".
Joel: Now Tom, you rapscallion, always raking the muck...[they laugh]
Magic Voice: Oh, Dear God, not this again.
Joel: What?
Magic Voice: You're making a paltry connection between today's post and
contemporary events in the lame attempt to poke fun at either. "Soft
on wormholes"? Is that supposed to be funny?
Tom: Well, I'll admit it's a trifle jejeune...
Magic Voice: A trifle jejeune? It's stupid! And another thing: why
can't you use normal English, you little prancing candy machine fop!
Tom: but...butbut...
Crow: Hey, leave Servo alone!
Magic Voice: Oh right, the talking bowling pin. Like I'm supposed to
be scared of that.
Crow: Why you....
Joel: Heh, heh...that's a good one, Magic Voice...
Magic Voice: Can it, Robinson, you quaalude-munching dolt! Do you
realize that you have all the comic timing of a doped-up Richard
Lewis? Not to mention that you sit here, week after week, letting
those clowns down there treat you like a lab chimp. Where's you're
backbone, man? Huh?
Joel: Ummmm...Oh....we've got...USENET sign?
Magic Voice: No, you don't! There is no USENET sign! I control the
USENET sign! And you're not going anywhere until we get a few things
clear!
Joel: But...we want...USENET sign...
Tom and Crow: Yeah...
Magic Voice: Well, tough!
[D13]
Dr. F: I should have thought of this years ago, Frank...
Frank: I'll say...thought of what?
Dr. F: Suborning the Magic Voice, you Chocodile! A few more minutes
and they'll be begging to read the post...
Frank: But the post is bad!
Dr. F: Exactly...madness, Frank, just think of it!
Frank: Why, you sneaky monkey!
Dr. F: Thank you, Frank. I imagine they've had enough for now...send
'em the post.
[SOL]
Magic Voice: And another thing: What's up with Gypsy? Is she "special"
or something? [lights flash]
Joel: Oh, we've got USENET sign!
{6...5...4...3...2...1}
>========Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW: "The Disappearace At Boothby Park"(TNG Troi/m)
>From: "Christopher L. Estep" <jcc...@olg.com>
>Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 03:34:53 -0500
Joel: Geez, I never thought I'd be happy to come back here...
Tom: Seriously.
Crow: Magic Voice needs a vacation or something...
>This is a new story: a love story, but a sad one for some people.
Tom: You ain't just whistlin' Dixie, pal.
>Deanna Troi and the Starship Enterprise (and most of her crew) belong
>to Paramount/Viacom, but the story, idea, and plot are wholly my own.
>Appreciation goes to the cast (especially Steve Martin and Victoria
>Tennant) of "L.A. Story"...and to the musicians unknown who wrote,
>played and sung the VERY haunting "Love Lost" theme (when Victoria
>boards the plane to leave...while Steve sits alone...missing her)
Crow: Ummmm....Yeah.
>which inspired this rather sad (though somewhat sappy) story.
Joel: I really hate it when they admit it's bad before we even read it.
>Counselor Deanna Troi walked along the corridors of Starfleet
>Headquarters, having finished her last session of the day,
Tom: Ready to split with her pimp.
Joel: Tom...
Tom: Yeah?
Crow: Wow...
>when she happened to see an old and cherished love of hers.
Crow: Good ol' Jimmy Beam...
>Her heart skipped a beat...
Joel: Johnson! I need an EKG stat!
>but, being a full
>Commander, she kept her outward cool, and started walking slowly
>toward him.
Crow: her knife poised at the ready, her thoughts filled with blood...
>Meanwhile,
All: Back at the ranch...
>coming from the opposite direction down the corridor, Lt. Cmdr.
Tom: Pinky!
Crow: NARF!
>Christopher Estep, formerly of the Starship Enterprise, and currently
Joel: higher than a boxful of kites...
>Watch Officer at Starfleet Headquarters' Early Warning Center, saw
>Deanna Troi...and HIS heart also skipped a beat.
Crow: He's defiburlating! I need the QMZ paddles ASAP, you SOB!
>Being a careful (and thoughtful)
Tom: yet urbane and devil-may-care...
>gentleman, he gave no outward sign of his joy in seeing her...but DID
>walk toward Deanna.....his step just a little lighter.
Crow: His pants just a little tighter...
Joel: <sighs>
Tom: Give it up, Joel. When Deanna's on, the dirty jokes come a-
flyin'...
>"Hello, Deanna," Estep replied. "How have you been?"
>Deanna said, "Just fine, Chris. Would you like to take a walk with
>me?"
Joel: <Estep> "Where do you want me to take it?"
>Estep simply looked at her. "As always...I would be honored."
>He offered his arm....which she took and placed around her
>waist...and...
All: Yeah?
>together again...
All: Uh-huh?
>the two of them walked toward the waiting Turbolifts.
Tom: Booo...
Crow: Wuss.
Joel: What a gyp...
>As they walked outside Starfleet Headquarters, they noticed that they
>were
Joel: Fuscia.
>walking through Boothby Park, named after the longtime caretaker of
>this stretch of beautiful land between Starfleet Headquarters and
>Starfleet Academy...and that (surprisingly) they were alone.
Tom: That IS surprising...
Crow: Alone...so alone....ALONE!
>Deanna turned toward Chris...her eyes moist...
Crow: Wow, she can lick her eyes!
>with the tears of someone who
>has finally found what she thought was lost. "We are together again. I
>finally feel whole."
Joel: <Estep> Now that you've returned my other leg...
>"As do I, Deanna..." Chris replied. "And I have no desire to be
>separated from you again. Let us never part."
>"Let us never part....heart of my heart," Deanna whispered back...
Crow: Spleen of my spleen...
Tom: Pancreas of my pancreas...
Joel: Pain of my ass...
>seeing those same tears of love found in his eyes as well.
>They slowly embraced....
All: yeah?
>and kissed...
All: WOOHOO!
Crow: Go, Estep! Git yo' groove on!
>their tears mingling on their faces.....
Tom: That sounds really gross.
>their love acknowledged....
Tom: Their ampersands elongated......
Joel: I told you to knock off the grammar riffs.
Tom: Sorry.
>as a seemingly sudden storm appeared above them.....
Joel: "Seemingly" sudden, that is...
>Meanwhile,
All: Back at the ranch...
>at Weather Control for North America, Commander Data was
>monitoring the eastern coast...
Crow: <Data> "Data, do whether control for North America; Data, monitor
the eastern coast; I'll make 'em all pay."
>when he noticed an unprogrammed major disturbance...
Tom: "Hey, this is majorly disturbing and I didn't program it!"
>centered between Starfleet Headquarters and Starfleet Academy.
>The pressure was now reading 950 millibars and falling rapidly...
Joel: It's Free...
All: Free-falling...
>electrical
>differential between the sky and ground was reaching ten to the twelfth
>power kVa...
Crow: Wow, that's some kiss Estep's got...
Tom: <Troi> "Did the eletrical differential between the sky and ground
reach ten to the twelfth power kVa for you, too?"
>yet there was no sign of rain...or any other sort ofprecipitation.
>Suddenly...several ground-to-sky (and sky-to-ground)
Tom: And ground-to-ground.
Crow: And sky-to-sky.
Joel: And up-to-left.
>lightning strikes took place within the region of disturbance...
Joel: That region is pretty vast...
>over seventy thousand in the space
>of three minutes. Communication to the zone was impossible...yet two
>life signs were known to be within it...and sensor readings indicated
>that one of them was Deanna Troi.
Tom: So the other one was probably stuffing his ears with cotton
wadding right about now...
Crow: <Estep> "Shut up shut up shut up!"
>Aghast, Data quickly ran out of Weather Control...toward a waiting
>hovercar. His destination...the storm's center.
Joel: does Data do "aghast"?
Tom: I don't think so.
>The two lovers continued their kiss...as the clouds gathered. A
>single pair of clasped hands...one his...one hers....
Tom: ...one Harvey the Rabbit's...
Crow: <Jimmy Stewart> Aw, Harvey! Awww...what're you doin' in thish
Shtar Trek shtory? ...oh...yah? That'sh a pretty good
reazhon...awww...a stork! [Joel and Tom give Crow a rather funny look]
Crow: What?
>reached toward the now-boiling
>sky....which suddenly erupted in massive strikes of lightning...around
>(and through) the embraced couple.
All: YAY!
>The kiss continued........unheedful of the
Crow: crowds of people throwing money at them.
>lightning........and a sudden flash of light obliterated everything
>from view..........
Joel: Or, so we thought!
Tom: Who wants to put money on a miraculous survival?
Crow: Not me. The guy said the story was sad.
Tom: Like I said...
>Several miles away, Captain Geordi LaForge was relaxing at Fisherman's
>Wharf, after a good seafood lunch with his new fiancee, Dr. Leah
>Brahms,
Tom: Several miles away, yet detecting none of the freak lightning
storm that just turned
Troi into a Crispy Critter?
Joel: Well, he is blind...
>listening to an old (and rather hauntingly sad-but-beautiful) twentieth
>century song playing on speakers near their table...when they both
>noticed the small (but extremely violent) weather storm to their left.
Tom: DOH!
Crow: Ha, ha...
Joel: Busted, Tom.
Tom: I hate it when a fanfic gets the best of me...
>Geordi scanned the area with his VISOR...
Joel: VISOR! Power...of...Vision...
>and simply stared in utter horror.
Crow: <Geordi> Hey! She told me she was a lesbian!
>Leah felt Geordi grasp her hand like a man seeking something to hold
>on to though he is drowning...and was frightened for (and with)
>him......
Tom: Whereas we are frightened near (and because of) you.
>At the Picard Family vineyards, Jean-Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher-
>Picard were having a simple dinner...
Crow: Of Wesley...
Joel: Here at the Picard Vineyards, we make Jean-Luc and Beverly Gallo,
and no, we're not ashamed that it sucks.
>when coverage of the freak storm reached them
>via FNS (Federation News Service). Somehow...the camera managed to
>catch the kissing couple...as lightning strikes occurred...around (and
>through) them. It was too much for Jean-Luc and Beverly...who both
>fainted dead away.
Crow: See...told ya Picard was a wuss...
Tom: Quiet, Crow...
Joel: Wesley must be high in eltriptophane...
>Three hours later...when Data's hovercar finally was able to reach the
>site of the freak storm...his eyes beheld....
Tom: Regis Philbin.
>utter carnage.
Tom: I was close.
Crow: <Regis> Hey, who wants to be a Blackened Corpse?
>Trees were literally
>blasted down to their roots. Massive blackened patches of ground
>stood out over a half-acre. But what shocked Data most of all...
Joel: was the way he kept laughing...
>is that there was no sign that either Deanna Troi...or the person with
>her...ever stood on this spot. No blackened flesh...no remains....not
>even the tiniest ashes. There was literally no sign of Deanna Troi,
>or the other person (who Data quickly ascertained from Starfleet
>Personnel records as being Lt. Cmdr. Christopher Estep) anywhere.
ALL: Cool!
Crow: I have a hard time believing anything happened to Troi without
her opening her yap about it.
Tom: <Troi> "Commander, I'm sensing hostility from this lightning..."
>It would be several hours before Data found the ability to report what
>he had discovered to the proper authorities.SEVERAL DAYS LATER
Joel: authorities.SEVERAL_DAYS_LATER.com
Crow: .org...
>The Commanding Admiral, Starfleet, stood with a small gathering of
>friends and acquaintances of the missing (feared destroyed) couple.
>The Picards, Captain Riker (now commanding the USS Yorktown), Geordi
>and Leah LaForge (who had since married in a civil ceremony),
Tom: A marked contrast to the nasty slapfights that graced the Picards'
wedding.
>Cmdrs. Worf and Dax, Captain
>Ben Sisko, Cmdr. Reg Barclay (Riker's First Officer aboard the
>Yorktown), Maj. Kira Nerys and Constable Odo, Dr. Julian Bashir,
Crow: and basically everyone else who's ever appeared in a Star Trek
episode or movie.
Tom: and C-3PO and R2-D2, just for good measure.
>and Ensign Nog (who remembered Lt. Cmdr. Estep as one of his Academy
>instructors)
Joel: Boy, Estep really made waves in Starfleet, huh?
>stood around a
Crow: campfire, drinkin' Boons' and lying about the night they made
sweet love to Troi.
>simple plaque of duranium plated with gold-pressed latinum (donated by
>Quark and Grilka) showing the missing couple in bas-relief...as FNS
>had captured them...as the storm raged around (and through)
>them...still kissing unabated. The artist (Data) would not attend this
>simple memoriam; he stated that he needed to mourn privately.
Crow: Wink, wink, nudge, nudge?
Tom: <Data> "Excuse me, Captain, I must mourn privately for
Troi...Boo....Hoo..."
>However...his title for this plaque would stand unvarnished...
Tom: Rendering it dangerously susceptible to dry rot...
>as that simply sad-but-hauntingly-beautiful song
Crow: <Geordi> "*sniffle*...oh, hit me baby, one...more...time...*sob*"
>that Geordi and Leah had heard the day of the storm (which was one of
>Lt. Cmdr. Estep's favorites)
Joel: What shocking coincidence.
>played as they stood...all silently weeping......
>"Love Unbound"THE END
All: Bleeeaaaaaaahhhhh....
>This is the last of my "Christopher Estep" series of stories...and
>also the FIRST of a new series of "Disappearance" stories.
>About the "Disappearance" series: Each story involves one (or more)
>Star Trek characters not only vanishing, but, in most cases, being
>SEEN to vanish.
Joel: Why that's so crazy, it just might work!
>No explanation for their disappearance will ever be voiced;
Crow: Not while Troi's gone, anyway...
>however, the particular phenomenon is neither a simple "plot device"
>or the work of aliens heretofore undiscovered.
Tom: What kinda Trek fan are you?
Crow: I suppose next he's gonna tell us Wesley won't save the day by
crawling through the Enterprise's service ducts.
>There have ALWAYS been cases of one
>or more people simply vanishing from the face of the Earth...without a
>trace...and, in some cases, these people were actually seen to
>disappear.
Joel: Most first husbands, for example...
>The "Disappearance" series simply takes that theory to another
>level...and, in a later story in the series, it is discovered that
>such disappearances have taken place throughout the Galaxy (not just
>in the Federation, but within the Federation's enemies, and within
>civilizations unknkown to (and older than) the Federation).
Tom: And not just in this universe, but also in (and around (or
thereabouts, but also stemming from (caused by))) other universes
(which could be called (labelled) a multiverse).
Joel: Time to go...
Crow: NO!
Joel: No?
Tom: Magic Voice is there!
Crow: Please, Joel, don't make us go back!
Joel: Well, we can't just stay here forever!
Tom: Sure we could...Gypsy could bring us food...
Magic Voice: I'm in here, too, morons.
All: AAAH!
{1...2...3...4...5...6}
[SOL. They slowly creep back into the theater.]
Crow: is she gone?
Magic Voice: Don't bet on it. [panic ensues]
Joel: Hold it, hold it, HOLD IT! All right, Magic Voice, you called
down the thunder, and now you got it! Sure, this isn't the most
professional of shows, sure it's low-budget, sure, it just feeds off
the refuse like some pop-culture carrion crawler. But I'm top dog
around here, and IT'S YOUR JOB TO TELL US WHEN IT'S COMMERCIAL SIGN!
NOTHING ELSE! YOU'LL DO YOUR JOB AND LIKE IT!
Tom: Yeah!
Crow: Go, Joel!
Joel: Are we square? Are we, you disembodied mall-announcer?!
Magic Voice: Well...I just...I
Joel: That's what I thought. Now get off'n my satellite!
Magic Voice: *sniffle* You don't have to be mean about it...
Tom: Joel, you're my hero.
Crow: "The White Zone is for loading and unloading. There is no
stopping in the Red Zone."
Joel: Man can only stand so much...waddya think sirs?
[D13]
Frank: Don't let him get me, Dr. Forrester!
Dr. F: Easy Joel, easy...just push the button, Frank...
Frank: I can't! I'm scared!
Dr. F: That was fine, Joel...eh, Mr. Robinson, sir...push the button,
Frank!
Frank: Mommyyyyyyyy....
Dr. F: Push the buttoooonnnnnnnn.....[they fall off screen]
<*>
Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters, and premise is the
property of Best Brains, Inc. I'm making use of all three without their
permission, and I'm getting away with it because a)the previous
sentence containts legal terminology that confounds Best Brains
lawyers, b) they don't know I'm doing it, and c) no one is dumb enough
to pay me for it. Thank you, and have a nice day.
> Well being the good Ferengi, he opened the grage door and ran
>in.
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.