MSTing: A RATLIFF WEDDING 7/9
a.ca...@genie.com
>Chapter Twelve
>
> Inside Saint Paul's the bridesmaids and flower girls had
>proceeded down the aisle, and now the organ began to play
Crow: "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida"? "A Whiter Shade of Pale"?
>'Here Comes the Bride,' as the first of the two brides, Princess Clarrissa
>Sutter began to proceed down the aisle holding her fathers hand.
Nine: Meanwhile, in the back room, Mr. Sutter clutched the bloody stump of
his wrist and tried to figure out what he'd done wrong.
>Looking at the two, you would have never guessed that just a day before
>both of them had been crawling though jefferies tubes, trying to fix
>problems with their respected ships.
Mike: I think if I were a ship I'd prefer to be loved.
>But Prince Daniel and his daughter Clara, had made a mastery of quick
>change overs as their roles shifted often from grimy Chief Engineer to
>well dressed Prince(ss).
Crow: I take it that's Stephen's attempt to render that weird symbol into
ASCII?
>Her gown was of white satin with fine white lace and golden trim around the
>collar. Her bridal veil covered just barely her face.
Tom: And Ratliff places just haphazardly his modifiers.
>Her father was in his Starfleet dress uniform, freshly press with the rank
>he shared with his daughter,
Mike: She has it Monday through Friday, he gets it weekends.
>Lieutenant Commander, clearly visible.
> After Clara's train had fully entered the church, the second
>bride entered. Captain Marrissa Picard was holding her father, Fleet
>Admiral Jean-Luc Picard's hand.
Tom: *laugh* And tell me, just how many children did his foot sire?
>Her dress was rather elaborate, white satin with embroidered patterns of the
>royal house of Essex's arms,
Mike: "Oh, what a lovely brocade anti-tank missile!"
>and the current Starfleet logo. Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard had been
>forced to wear an representative sample of his
Crow: --urine.
>awards on his dress uniform. Among the medals adorning his uniform were,
>the Order of the Defenders of the Klingon Empire, the Order of the Knights
>of Essex, the Starfleet Metal of Valor with silver palms, and the Federation
>Congress Order of Merit for Saving Earth, all awards which Marrissa shared.
Tom: Of course. She also has a Nobel Prize in Economics, an Oscar for Best
Original Screenplay and two consecutive Heisman Trophies.
> As they approached the alter Clara split to the left and her
>father handed her hand to Alexander. Admiral Picard did the same with
>Marrissa's hand on the right, but of course to Jay.
Mike: Nice save!
>As they settled into their proper places, the Pope began to speak, "Dearly
>beloved, we are gathered here to witness the joining of these two couples,
>Jay and Marrissa, and Alexander and Clarrissa.
Crow: And Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice.
>Is their anyone here who knows of any reason why they should not be joined
>together today in holy matrimony?"
Nine: Because the four of them together barely reach the age of consent?
> There was a brief pause, no one spoke up. Although some in the
>press had objected to Clara marrying a Klingon,
Crow: Ah, I see the National Review is still publishing.
>there had be an immediate overwhelming response saying that she should marry
>who ever she pleased, so no one objected today. After the pause, the Pope
>continued, "As their are no objections, I ask, Clarrissa Ann Sutter,
>do you come of your own free will
Nine: "Are you kidding? If I could do that I wouldn't need this guy!"
>to take this Alexander Rozhenko as your husband, for richer, for poorer, in
>sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
> "I do," Clara responded.
> "And do you Alexander Rozhenko take this Clarrissa Ann Sutter
Tom [Alexander]: "No, I think I'd rather have that one over there."
>as your wife, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death
>do you part?" the Pope asked
> "I do," Alexander replied with gusto.
Crow: My feelings are more akin to disgusto.
> As per arrangement, he then went to the second couple, and
>asked, "Marrissa Amber Flores Picard, do you come of your own free will
>to take this Jay Alan Gordon as your husband, for richer, for poorer, in
>sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
Mike [Marrissa]: "Well that's just silly! =I= can't die!"
> "I do," Marrissa responded solemnly.
> Then the Pope asked Jay, "Do you Jay Alan Gordon, take this
>Marrissa Amber Flores Picard as your wife, for richer, for poorer, in
>sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
Nine [Marrissa]: "He does! Now get on with it!"
> "I do," Jay said with a smile.
> "Bring forth the rings!" the Pope ordered. Nine-year-old
>Nicholas Picard came forward with the rings
Mike: --but suddenly turned and ran and hid behind a stack of hymn books.
>which were tied to a pillow by the names of each of the people who were
>about to receive them. (Necessary because every one of them had different
>ring sizes.)
> "Gentlemen, take the appropriate rings and repeat after me," the
>Pope began, and after a moment continued.
Tom [Pope]: "No, no, Alexander, don't eat it--"
>"With this ring I thee wed."
> "With this ring I thee wed," Alexander and Jay said almost
>together as they slid the rings on their brides fingers.
Crow: It's Automatic Double Tracking!
> "Now Princesses, repeat the procedure," the Pope ordered.
> "With this ring I thee wed," Marrissa and Clara said with the
>practiced unity of two people who said things in unison allot,
Mike: They're the Federation's answer to Rockapella.
>sliding the ring on their new husbands.
Nine [Marrissa]: "I'll just put this around your neck, dear. Now where's my
leash?"
> "I pronounce you husbands and wives," the Pope proclaimed. "You
>may now kiss the bride."
> Jay lifted up Marrissa's veil and Alex, Clara's. Both men began
>passionate kisses of their new wives to the applause of those gathered
>inside the church.
Mike [Pope]: "No, no, Marrissa-- not here-- put that back on--"
>
> Meanwhile, in orbit of the Planet, Ensign Patterson Supra was
>enjoying his first command of a starship since graduating from the
>Academy. Having been a Kid's Crew Captain, he knew both the joys and
>pressures of command.
Tom: Comfy chair: good. Bleeding ulcer: bad.
>He was only eighteen years old, but he knew more about commanding starships
>then most of the people left in command of the starships orbiting the
>planet, with the exception of the monk that Pope Gregory left in command of
>the Trinity, a former starship Captain who disenchanted with Starfleet
>entered the monastery, only to end up as one of Pope Gregory's starship crew.
Crow: Ah, the irony.
Mike: Even =Ratliff= has a better grasp of what irony is than Alanis
Morissette.
> Knowing that a starship Captain should be well informed about
>everything that is happening nearby
Tom: --even if that means wiretapping people's phones, opening their mail,
hiding in their closets...
>and having some experience in command of the Enterprise, Ensign Supra was
>the only one who was monitoring the Romulan border among those orbiting
>Essex. He was the only one that saw the Romulans warp toward Essex, and
>then cloak. After double checking the recording, he decided that he better
Crow: "--nuke 'em! Get them before they get you!"
Mike: He's Starfleet's answer to Alexander Haig.
>call his Captain. Looking at the time he saw that the wedding was probably
>over by now so he had no qualms about calling Captain Marrissa Picard of the
>Starship Endeavor.
Crow: "Yeah, Ah figger now that she's got that weddin' outta th' way she'll
purdy much have the afternoon free!"
Tom: This guy seems to have weddings confused with the buffet lunch at
Shakey's.
>
> Marrissa was just about to make the run through the rice to the
Mike: --last helicopters out of Saigon?
>carriage and the ride to the palace, when her communicator beep.
>"Endeavor to Captain Picard," it said.
> "Picard here," she replied. "This had better be important
>Patterson."
> "It is," Patterson replied.
Crow: "Where do you keep your Bactine? I got a paper cut!"
>"The Romulans are headed this way, a dozen warbirds, ETA ninety minutes."
> "Standby, Patterson," Marrissa said. "Dad! Tory!"
> Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard and Queen Victoria of Essex pushed
>though the crowd moving into position to throw rice at the exiting
>couples. "What is it Marrissa?" her father asked.
Nine: "Jay keeps touching me! Make him stop!"
> "Apparently the Romulans have chosen to ruin my wedding day,"
>Marrissa replied.
All: *wild cheers*
Crow: I'm moving to Romulus tomorrow.
>"A dozen warbirds are on course to Essex."
> "Let me guess, you need your schedule rearranged so that you can
>go get rid of them," Queen Victoria said.
Mike: "Well that's just tough! I'm paying these caterers three hundred
dollars an hour and I'm not going to sit there and watch them serve
shrimp balls and artichoke dip to each other!"
>"I'll see too it, and I'll get any Starship Captain I see to recall their
>people to their ships."
> "Tell them that it's an order from the Fleet Admiral," Picard
>said. "We'll do the battle arrangements via a conference call.
Crow: "While we're at it, sign me up for that Star-69 thing! And call
waiting, gotta have the call waiting!"
>Now Marrissa, please tell me that you have a plan for the defense of Essex."
> "I do," Marrissa replied. "It involves the use of one Nova class
>Starship, one Galaxy class, one Nebula II class, one Defiant class, one
>Excelsior class, one Hope class, one Stargazer fighter carrier, one
>Intrepid Class, and one ship commanded by the Pope."
Mike: "It also involves a frisbee, three racquetballs, a 40-ouncer of malt
liquor and a rhesus monkey."
> "How is it that you have a plan that fits us so exactly?"
>Admiral Jean-Luc Picard asked.
> "Simple, I knew someone would try to ruin my wedding day,"
>Marrissa replied.
Tom: "I assumed it'd be Dustin Hoffman, but Romulans'll do in a pinch."
>"And planned accordingly. So which ship do you want to be aboard?"
> "Yours, you haven't scratched a starship yet," her father responded.
> "Captain Picard to Endeavor, recall all personnel," Marrissa ordered.
>"Myself and the Fleet Admiral to beam up, procedure delta one five."
Nine [tinny]: "We're sorry, Delta flight one-five has been cancelled. We
can transfer you to America West flight two-thirty-nine leaving from Gate
14, though."
>
> Captain Marrissa Picard materialized on the bridge of the Endeavor
>with Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard. Captain Picard had materialized with
>only the veil and tiara of her wedding dress remaining.
Crow: Oh, wow! Nothing livens up a story like gratuitous nudity!
>The rest had been replaced with a Starfleet Captain's uniform.
Tom: Uh, when exactly did she get a chance to change? Isn't that kind of a
tricky thing to do in mid-teleport?
>She quickly removed the tiara and veil and moved toward the center seat.
>"Report, Patterson," she ordered.
Mike [Patterson]: "No change in interest rates this quarter! Three killed in
South Side shootout! Unseasonably cold temperatures to continue through
Thursday! In sports, Cubs lose their fifth straight!"
> "Roughly five minutes ago I was monitoring the Romulan side of the
>Neutral Zone with the Endeavors enhanced sensor array," Patterson reported.
Nine: And I'm sure it's just a coincidence that the girls' locker room
happens to be located in the area. Uh-huh.
>"I detected a dozen Romulan warbirds on a direct course
Tom: [does double-take] Whoa! Check it out -- Ratliff spelled "course"
right! This is getting scary!
>to Essex. As they neared the border they cloaked. I just received a report
>form the border that our tachynon web detection grid has been sabotaged."
> "I told Admiral Cen'tal that his security was too lax," the
>Fleet Admiral commented.
Crow: He must be using Netscape.
> "Status on returning officers?" Marrissa asked.
> "All members of the Endeavor's command crew are on their way to the
>bridge," Patterson replied. "Currently no one is assigned as security
>chief."
Tom: And they wonder why they have problems with security. Yeah, Starfleet's
a reeeeal bright bunch.
> "Get Shayna up here to man that," Marrissa replied. "Patterson,
>take the helm. Hail all the other starships."
>
> Meanwhile down on the Planet, Queen Victoria was beginning to
>address the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen,
Nine: "--and I mean only the ladies and gentlemen -- you plebes can crawl
back to your hovels--"
>due to a Starfleet Emergency Princess Marrissa and her crew and those of
>the other starships in orbit are needed aboard their ships," she began.
>"Therefore we are rescheduling some of the events. The rice throwing will
>occur
Tom: "--shortly before our fiery deaths!"
>before they leave for their honeymoons in front of the palace, after
>the reception. The reception will begin once the Emergency ends.
Crow: I knew that in the event of an actual emergency we would receive news
and instructions. But I had no idea this is what they meant.
>The post-wedding procession, in a slightly altered order will be their route
>out of the city following the reception. The reception will be held in the
>Royal Palace's Enterprise wing, invitation only."
Crow: Looks like Nine was right about the plebes.
Nine: Hey, do I know the British or do I know the British?
> She concluded her remarks with a request, "If anyone has seen
>Jackie Picard, please see me, I seem to have lost track of her." At
>that the eleven-year-old flower girl tackled the Queen from behind.
Tom [John Facenda]: "But for Queen Victoria and the Green Bay Packers, there
would be another day."
Mike: For us too, I hope. Can we go?
Tom: Yup. C'mon.
[1...2...3...4...5...6...]
[SOL. Crow is at the desk wearing a pair of enormous pointy ears.]
Crow [British]: "For some reason I wish I were a tampon, even though I know
it is not logical." Heh heh. Hello! I'm Crow T. Robot. You may have
noticed that in today's experiment, half of Starfleet seems to be composed
of members of the Essex royal family. So we thought it might be fun to see
what it might be like if Starfleet were made up of real royals!
[Enter Tom. He is painted yellow and is wearing a frumpy purple hat.]
Tom [flat British falsetto]: "I calculate that there is a 99.59588% chance
that I represent an archaic, exploitative political system that caused
misery and hardship for countless millions over the centuries."
Crow: Wow! That sounded completely flat and emotionless! Way to go on the
Data impression!
Tom: Who's Data?
[Enter Nine and Gypsy, wearing tiaras and big teeth. Nine's hair is redder
than its usual Marrissa-blonde.]
Gypsy [British]: "Here we are on a gravelly British beach! My empathic
senses tell me that there aren't any tabloid reporters around -- let's take
off our tops!"
Nine [British]: "Good idea! I have my SPF 240 sunblock right here so our
pasty skin doesn't get scorched!"
Crow: Okay, that's not bad, but Nine -- could you go a little chunkier?
You've got too much Gates McFadden in there and not enough Fergie.
[Enter Mike, wearing a shapeless granny dress. He looks about 170 years old.]
Mike [elderly British falsetto]: "Hath anyone theen my falth teef?"
Nine: Who're you supposed to be?
Mike: The Queen Mum. Can't you tell?
Nine: I mean, which Starfleet officer?
Mike: Well, let me do my other line. "And hath anyone theen... my hairpeeth?"
All: Shatner!
[Yellow light flashes]
Nine: We'll be right back.
Mike: "Make it tho!"
[Commercials]
[Continued in Part 8]