Mistied: Star Trek: A Royal Mess (1/4)
Suzanne Schroeder
comments.
s.s.
__________________________________
(1..2..3..4..5..6...)
(Opens with shot of Tom and Gypsy talking with eachother. No one else is
around).
Tom: So, you know, I was watching MTV this morning and heard that Lisa
Loeb song again.
Gypsy: Wow. It's been 1010 years since its been released.
Tom: Yeah, you'd think they'd take it out of the buzz bin by now.
(Crow comes walking in)
Crow: Hey Tom and Gyps, I had the weirdest dream last night.
Tom: Yeah? So Can it wait?
Gypsy: "London, Can You Wait?"
Tom: Hey, good one. "What's the Story, Morning Glory?"
Gypsy: "Hairdresser on Fire!"
Tom: "Say it ain't so."
Crow: Cut it out!
Tom: Never heard that one.
Crow: Stop! I had a dream...
Gypsy: Martin Luther King Jr.?
Crow: Geez, you people. I guess I'll tell Mike. Where is he?
Tom: We hadn't seen him since we blasted his underwear out of the
Airlock. Don't go near him. He seems really cheesed.
(Someone, obviously not Mike walks out looking confused.)
Joel: What the hell?
The 'Bots: (all running around) Joel!!!!
(commercials)
Tom: So, Joel, you have no idea how you got here?
Joel: No, I was walking out in the Outback fending off Yahoo Serious.
Apparently, he thinks I've got Hollywood connections, and, well, I
thought the alligator burger I had wasn't agreeing with me but,
apparently that's not it.....
Crow: By the way, has anyone seen Mike?
(lights flash)
Joel: The Mads are calling. Maybe they can clear this up.
(Deep 13)
Frank: Joel?!?! What are you doing there?
(SOL)
Tom: Hey, we thought that you took off with Torgo.
(Deep 13)
Dr. F: (walking up) Cut it out you two, this isn't A Very Brady Reunion.
Frank: Then, what is it?
Dr F.: Nostalgia. You see, Red Dog and O'Doul, what is a more maniacal
thing I can do than warp the fabric of space and time?
Frank: Give Jeff Foxworthy a sitcom?
Dr. F.: I'll pretend I didn't hear that.
(SOL)
Crow: So, whatąd ya do with Mike?
(Deep 13)
Dr. F.: I put him in Limboland.
(SOL)
Joel: You put him in pergatory? Even you canąt do that...
(Deep 13)
Dr. F: Who said anything about pergatory? I put him on the defunct
Comedy Central show. Well, I had to do something evil to him! Anyway,
this is a practice run. I haven't decided what I would do with this
power, but it looks good on a resume. Well, to continue with my perfect
day, Space Ghost, let's do the invention exchange. I'll go first. Set
it up, Frank.
Frank: Uh, well, I just got here...I don't know how it....
Dr. F.: Great. I have to do everything. As you know, Mr. X,
everything for you is unhealthy. People are rebelling against the health
food trend and loading up on junk food. I'm jumping the bandwagon as
people rebel by making even unhealthier food. I'm starting out with
breakfast. Why not start out the day on the wrong foot? So, I put a
twist on old breakfast favorites: Cereals! Here we have the sugary
favorite: Frosted Asbestos Flakes.
Frank: Hey! Destroy your bloodsugar and your lungs in one swoop.
Dr. F: (laughing) Yes, then recall the innocent days of youth and
Halloween with Cinnamon Apple Razor flakes. And then there's Compost
Crunch, and Hairy O's.
(SOL)
Tom: I don't believe this.
Joel: Nice to know you haven't changed.
(Deep 13)
Dr. F: Thank you! I'm already enjoying our party. Say, Frank, that
gives me a great idea. Let's celebrate.
Frank: You mean a Bay Watch Marathon?
Dr F: No, even better. I thought that for the first time in our
history, we would throw a party down here and you can invite anyone you
want.
Frank: Great! Finally I'll get to see what a party is like!
Dr F: Well Joel, since I know you always have a store of inventions, I'm
sure you won't have any problem doing the invention exchange....
(SOL)
Joel: Uh, yeah. I do happen to have something here. Mine deals with
the concept that many women are shortening their calve muscles by wearing
heels and end up not feeling comfortable in normal sneakers. So, I came
up with a shoe that looks like a sneaker and feels like a heel!
(Deep 13)
Dr. F.: I think they call them Air Jordans. Anyway, Friend of P, let's
continue the fun. As Leonard had part VI, so do the Marrissa stories.
Yes, it's another Ratliff masterpiece. It's aptly titled: A Royal
Mess. Have fun!
(SOL)
All: RATLIFF?!?!?! (Lights flash) We've got movie sign!
(6..5..4..3..2..1..)
>_________________________________________________________________
>| ___ STAR TREK |
>| ___....-----'---`-----....___ THE NEXT GENERATION |
>| ========================================= -------------------|
>| ___`---..._PA_RT_...---'___ The Marrissa Stories |
>| (___) _|1|5|_ (___) |
>| \\____.-'_.---._`-.____// A Royal Mess |
>| ~~~~`._ `---' _.'~~~~ by Stephen Ratliff |
>| `-----' |
>|_______________________________________________________________|
Crow: Oh *great* special effects...
>|SIXTH Story in the Series by Stephen Ratliff
Joel: Isnąt 6 the number of the devil?
>Epilogue
Tom: Wait, doesnąt the epilogue come after the story?
> "Marrissa, you are too busy for a girl your age," Admiral Picard
>said, entering his daughters room to find her working at her desk.
> "Most girls my age aren't Starfleet Lieutenants or heirs to the
>throne of some planet," Marrissa responded.
Joel: A planet with apparently no name.
> "True but even so you have to much work, especially paper work,"
>Jean-Luc Picard said. "And your room is simply not the place for it."
Tom: What paper work? Theyąve got computers for that for crying out
loud.
> "Where else am I going to do it?" Marrissa asked.
> "How about your office, across the hall," her father replied.
Crow: (Marissaąs voice) But I hate to commute.
>"And I'm sure your new Yeoman will reduce your load some what."
Joel: I thought yeomen were farmers.
> "I never thought you would agree to it," Marrissa said of her
>asking for an office.
> "I hadn't been in your room that much until last night when I
>found you asleep writing a report at your desk," Jean-Luc Picard said.
>"After I put you to bed.
Joel: (Picard)...I read your diary and snooped through your underwear
drawer.
>I contacted Commander LaForge and pulled up a
>file you made titled Marrissa's perfect office.
Tom: (snicker) *ahem*
Crow: (as Picard) I also took the liberty of adding in extra Holly
Hobby wall paintings like I did with your room.
>You'll find that Geordi
>followed your plans exactly or I will know why."
Tom: ...or I will try Bud Dry.
>The last was said in
>such a tone to mean that he would not be pleased with Geordi LaForge if
>their was any deviance from Marrissa's plans.
Crow: Picard has become one of those fat-assed parents who show up at PTA
night and ask why their child isnąt getting straight Aąs.
> "Thank you Dad," Marrissa said giving her father a hug.
Joel: Iąm waiting for Alan Funt to walk in.
>"And
>you defiantly are right
Tom: I donąt know why he needs to be so defiant about it.
> I'm too busy. I think that I will leave this
>rewrite of my evaluation of Lieutenant Szustakowski until tomorrow. After
>all it's not needed for another month."
Tom: It's never too early to become a workaholic.
> "In that case, would you care for a little sword practice?"
>Jean-Luc asked.
Joel: Shame on you, Ratliff!
> "I'd be delighted, Dad." Marrissa replied.
> Life returned to normal aboard the Enterprise and in the Picard
>family quarters. Until, the next problem that is.
Crow: Just like Full House.
> But that's another
>story ...
>The End.
Tom: That was it?
>The whole story will be reposted right before the new story Time Speeder
>next Thursday.
All: Aaauughhhh!!!!!
--
>Stephen Ratliff Computer Scince Major, Radford University.
Tom: I went to Radmiata University.
>srat...@runet.edu Author of the Marrissa Stories
Crow: So, what weąve heard about Marissa Tomei was made up.
>Matainer of the FAQ Status of Recently Posted Stories on a.st.c.
Joel: I wonder why he was given this job.
Tom: Maybe itąs the equivalent of being a waterboy.
>home page : http://www.cs.runet.edu/~sratliff/
Crow: This confirms it, folks, he is in college.
>"... but someone has to pay for what's happened here, and I don't want
>that someone to be ME." -Gul Dukat ST:DS9 "Defiant"
Tom: Oh, so youąre making us pay for this mess?
In article <45jq1i$4...@newslink.runet.edu> Stephen Ratliff,
srat...@runet.edu writes:
>Subject: A Royal Mess 1/4
>From: Stephen Ratliff, srat...@runet.edu
>Date: 12 Oct 1995 19:24:34 GMT
Joel: Seen it.
Crow: Taped it.
Tom: Slept through it.
>
>_________________________________________________________________
>| ___ STAR TREK |
>| ___....-----'---`-----....___ THE NEXT GENERATION |
>| ========================================= -------------------|
>| ___`---...SECTION...---'___ The Marrissa Stories |
>| (___) _|_1_|_ (___) |
>| \\____.-'_.---._`-.____// A Royal Mess |
>| ~~~~`._ `---' _.'~~~~ by Stephen Ratliff |
>| `-----' |
>|_______________________________________________________________|
Crow: What are all those stray lines? Try setting your right margin.
>|SIXTH Story in the Series by Stephen Ratliff |
>Contains parts 1-5 (1 posting)
> Prologue - Chapters 1-4
Tom: Whan that aprille perced soote....
>
>This story is Dedicated to
Joel: The one I love.
>
> Sandra Ratliff, my aunt.
>
> and
>
> The English Teachers of Cave Spring High School
Crow: This is what your education dollars are doing for you!
> Especially,
>
> Mrs. Linda Johnson, who gave me my first A in regular
> English;
Joel: (as Mrs. Johnson) Okay...donąt hurt me...stay away...Iąll give
you an
A. No, I wonąt be you special friend.
>
> Mr. Higgins, who couldn't believe I read 189 books in
> my junior year;
Tom: Heąs not the only one.
>
> and Mrs. Price, who needs to pack her husband a
> larger lunch.
Joel: Who should be telling her husband to pack his own damn lunch.
> (Mr. Price keeps stealing my little brother's
> French Fries.)
Crow: Geez, donąt these bullies ever graduate?
>
>Special Thanks to :
>
> Berg (be...@eskimo.com) for proofreading this.
Joel: Time to call in Nanook of Berg.
Crow: Berg must have been suckered in to doing this.
>This story is a work of fiction and should be treated as such ... In
>fact, the author considers this work fiction and if someone complains
>he will call his involvement in it a piece of fiction. :)
Tom: What? Run that by me again.
>However what ever part of this story that does not belong to Paramount
>belongs to the author of this work, Stephen Brian Ratliff.
Crow: Paramount made him add that.
>Prolouge
Tom: Hey, great job Berg.
Joel: Hey give him a break. Look what he's reading.
>
> It was twilight on the Federation Planet Essex. In the Royal
>Palace of its Constitutional Monarch the Royal Family was eating pizza
>enjoying a holomovie.
Joel: Wow, those royals sure do know how to party.
>The Palace of coarse befit the status of its
>residents.
Crow: Hmm. It wasnąt a smooth palace.
>The holovision room was done up in walnut paneling with gold
>lamp fixtures. The sofas were matching red formals with walnut accent
>and the carpet was a red and yellow pattern.
Tom: Sounds like a Mc Donalds.
>The room itself was filled
>with royals about a dozen and a half of them in fact.
> "We are running out of pizza," King George the Fourth observed.
> "Who has eaten the most?" his Queen inquired.
> "I believe that honor goes to my granddaughter, Lady Victoria,"
Joel: So, is she going to explode like the guy in the Sega commercial?
>George IV replied.
Tom: Old royals donąt die, they get recycled in fan fics.
> "Tory!" the Queen ordered.
Joel: Whig!
Crow: Labor!
Tom: Conservative!
>"Take the MG and goto Little Italy's
>Pizza. Order a dozen pepperoni pizzas,
Crow: Geez, what pigs.
> and bring them back."
Joel: ...then pick up a bag of fat-free fig newtons!
> Lady Victoria, a twenty-three year old blond haired woman got
>up.
Tom: Thank you. We couldnąt have deduced she was female.
> Her grandfather tossed her the keys. "And no stopping at the Prime
>Ministers house," he said.
Crow: Sheąs of legal age. The prime minister wouldnąt be interested in
her anyway.
> Leaving the Palace, Lady Victoria, tenth in line to the throne,
Tom:..and Sears Catalog underwear model...
>circled around the Palace grounds to Little Italys Pizza. Just as the
>last of the pizzas were placed on the stack of pizza boxes, a loud boom
>was heard. Exiting Little Italy, Victoria spied a fire in the direction
>of the Palace, a large fire right where the Palace should be.
Joel: Clevon Little and Gene Wilder were seen chasing Harvey Corman from
the scene.
>The first
>thought through Victoria's mind was 'It looks like I'll be visiting the
>Prime Minister after all.'
Crow: What happened to łOh my God! My family!˛
Tom: Or, łYes! Iąm Queen!˛
Joel: Tom, I'm warning you.
> Meanwhile, light years away on the Galaxy Class starship
>Independence, Captain Melanie Morris was sipping some lemonade in the
>command chair.
Tom: Thatąs one hell of a jump-cut, son.
> It had been a routine day patrolling the Romulan Neutral
>Zone. "Captain, there has been a breech of the detection grid in
>subsection 15-16-4," her security chief announced.
> "Confirmed," her second officer, Morgan Gordon senior said from
>Ops. "Set a coarse to intercept, warp nine, go to red alert, raise
>shields,"
Crow: (as Gordon) Panty-shields set, Captain.
Tom: Not THOSE shields.
>Morris ordered.
> "I'm afraid that last bit is a little too late, Captain," a
>strange voice said from behind the tactical officer said.
> Morris wheeled around get a look at the intruder, saying,
>"Inturder Alert, Command lockout authorization Morris Chopin Lizt One
>Four Nine Five."
Joel: Whoąs saying this? Chopin or the intruder?
Tom: Let's leave.