MSTed: Night of the Next Generation 4/14

[jnevins]

My MSTing: Journey to Babble

>Path:infoserver.bgsu.edu!magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu!math.ohio-sta
te.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news.cac.psu.edu!usenet

Crow: (announcer's voice) And that's the starting line-up for
*YOUR* USC Trojans!

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

Tom: Mike, why do you suppose *Todd* is typing all this in for
*Martin*?
Mike: Well, Tom, I figure it like this: either *Martin*
promised *Todd* he'd get him a date for his Senior
Prom, or--
Crow: He's lying, right?
Mike: Of course, Crow - people like *Martin* don't know any
_real_ women. The other choice is that *Martin*
has pictures of *Todd* doing something immoral with
an inflata-date.

>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

Tom: Considering what we've seen so far from them, I'd say
that "alt.startrek.creative" gets a Triple
Oxymoronic Word Score - neither truly alternative
nor creative, and having little to do with the real
Star Trek.

>Subjet: REPOST:Night of the Next Generation (4/14)

Mike: *sighs* Not even halfway done yet...


>Date: 27 Mar 1996 21:51:24 GMT
>Organization: TAMBOFILMS

Tom: (newsreel announcer voice) Dateline Korea, 1951 - the
Reds push forward at the Chosin Reservoir, only to
be thrown back by patriotic fighting Americans -
and TamboFilms is there!

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Crow: I think Mozilla Vaughn is my favorite Red Sox player.

IV

Suddenly it was dark. So very, very dark.

Tom: Alright, who unplugged the tv set?

The air smelled sickly sweet, like primrose and honeysuckle.

Mike: Great - Riker slathered on that awful cologne of his -
what's it called, Eau De Cathouse?

And so thick you could almost taste it.

Crow: You could use a fork - but try a spoon instead.

And something else was here with him. Something old. Something
terribly old.

Tom: (Picard voice) Something terribly, terribly old...oh.
That's me.

It frightened him.
He turned to run, but suddenly it as everywhere.

Mike: Caught by the cast of _Friends_...that's a nasty way to
go...

Long, cold fingers snaked their way around his legs.

Crow: Robert Johnson - NO!

He tried to cry out as they penetrated his flesh, but nothing would
come. He felt them start to weave in and out of his skin as they
made their way up his body.

Tom: *singing* The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out....

Slowly, so slowly, he could feel his soul slipping away.

Mike: *singing* My soul keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping,
into the future...

He could tell it was smiling as it fed.

Crow: Star Trek 19: The Kindred.

And now, it was so very, very cold...

Tom: What - is he sleeping with Sharon Stone?

Captain Jean-Luc Picard awoke from his dream screaming.

Mike: He musta dreamed he turned into Shatner.

* *

"Well, you'll survive," said the doctor as she clicked off her
medical scanner. The Captain sat before her wearing nothing but a
pair of shorts.

Crow: Mike, you *promised* we wouldn't have to read any of
this sort of thing.
Mike: Crow, if this turns into a sex post, you have my
permission to leave.

"No holes to indicate any penetration. No scars.

Tom and Crow loudly clear their throats.

Nothing."

Mike: Not even - a sausage!

She handed her tricorder over to her assistant, nurse Patricia
Bannister,

Tom: Red Shirt!
Crow: Expendable!
Mike: Quick - when's she die?
Tom: This chapter!
Crow: Next chapter - definitely next chapter.
Mike: I say this chapter. Gypsy?
Gypsy: (from off-stage left) Next chapter, Mike!

who took it into the adjacent room to upload the newly acquired
data

Crow: Hey!
Tom: Typical. *Martin* rubs out the only likable character.
Mike: Uh, guys, I don't think he meant Data. He didn't
capitalize it - see?
Tom: Yeah, but this is *Martin* - that doesn't mean anything.
Mike: Trust me on this one, guys.

into the ship's computer.

Crow: Open the disk drive door, Hal.

"But it was so REAL Beverly," beged Picard. "I just lay down for
a moment in my ready room when all of a sudden it was there and..."

Tom: I'm the first to admit I don't like Picard, but *Martin*
has Picard all wrong here.
Mike: Gotta agree with you, Tommy - Jean-Luc Picard wouldn't
break down like this.
Crow: He might run around the ship wearing a cowboy outfit and
asking the junior ensigns if they wanted "go
horsies," but he wouldn't break down.

"It wasn't there, Jean-Luc," she soothed, gripping his shoulder.
"It was just a dream."

Crow: Mike....?
Mike: Crow?
Crow: Mike, Patrick Duffy isn't going to step out of the
shower now, is he?
Mike: I hope not.

"So real," muttered the Captain.

Tom: *Martin* is stressing the real in this post, which is why
Deanna's gone.
Mike: Meeee-ow!

Dr. Crusher was worried. She had never seen Captain Picard so ense
and un-nerved.
"Here," she said, grabbing a hypo. "I'm going to give you
something to calm you down."

Crow: Saaaaayyyyy....

The hypo hissed and instantly Picard's face took on a relaxed look.

Tom: As opposed to its usual vacant stare?

"Something about that ship," he whispered.

Mike: (whispering Picard voice) I just can't believe _anyone_
would put Gavin McLeod in charge of a ship!

"What? What are you talking about?" Dr. Crusher came around the
tale to face him.

Crow: (Beverly voice) Have you been snorting Pixie Stix again?

"Something I felt when the away team departed for the Rickover,"

Mike: (Picard voice) It was LOVE, Beverly...I'm in LOVE with
my number one.

he explained. "I thought it was just nerves at first, but now...
now I'm not so sure... Beverly, we have to get them off that ship.
It's-"

Tom: (Picard voice) Beverly, at 7:13, the main hatch will give
in, and then the cook will say, "Fellas, it's been
good to know ya!"
Crow begins humming.

"No, no, no!" Picard had started to get up, but the doctor pushed
im back down.

Crow: (Beverly voice) I'm not close to finished with you,
sailor.

"You're still a little edgy from that dream.

Mike: (Beverly voice) Granted, dreaming about a lifetime of
going to Star Trek conventions can do that to a
person, but still...

I recommend you go to your quarters and try and get some rest. You
don't have to worry about dreaming with that hypo I gave you."

Crow: Just like Picard - hepped upon the goofballs while on
duty. No wonder he crashed the Stargazer.

"I can't sleep. I have a mission to run here."

Tom: That game of _Doom_ can't wait, eh?

The Captain started to get up again, but then plopped back down on
the table

Mike: Oh, gross.

and sighed. He gave a half grin to the doctor. "Oh, very well, I
guess I can..."

Crow: Lay here and have you minister to my every need, yup, I
guess I can do that, you sexy thing, you.

He was interrupted by the loud shrieking scream which suddenly
emitted from the examining room.

Tom: (Beverly voice) I have to kiss Riker in the next scene?
No way! I wanna talk to my agent!

The room where the corpse of Lieutenant Rodrigez ly awaiting
preparation.
The one currently occupied by nurse Bannister.

Crow: So I guess it's true what they say about Rodriguez, eh,
Nurse Bannister?
Tom: Yup - a regular Tijuana Superman, that one.

* * *

The emergency lighting in the corridor was extremely dim, for
some reason.

Mike: (English accent) We called it dim, on account of it
being so dim.

The away team used their hand lights for close vision, and relied
on Geordi and his visor for long vision,

Crow: I'd have to say that vision is exactly what this fanfic
lacks.

as they maneuvered their way down to main engineering.
Geordi, now leading the group, stopped suddenly causing Worf
to run smack into him, knocking him down.

Tom: (Alan Hale, Jr. voice) Geordi, would you *watch* what
you're doing!

"Mr. LaForge," grunted Worf. "Please tell me when you plan to stop
in the future and we won't have this-"

Mike: (Dean Martin voice) Now, Geordi, watch what you're
doing, now...

"t's blocked," said Laforge as he stood up.

Tom: Well, take some Ex-lax - don't just stand there and whine
to us about it.

Riker pushed his way forward. "What?"
They all focused theirbeams down the corridor. What they saw was

Crow: Horrible; a picture of Shatner with his shirt off.

a giant mass of twisted metal completely filling the corridor they
were currently in.

Tom: No no no - it's Art, not just twisted metal! It's a
commentary on man's inhumanity to man!

"Damnit,"

Mike: Janet!

muttered the Commander. He started to look around. "Well, there
has to be some other way to-"
"Shhhh! Listen!"

Tom: To what the flower people say?
Crow: *singing* Aaaaah-aaaaaaah-aaaaaah-aahhhhh-ahhhhh

It was Doctor Rushka. She held her hand up and silenced the team.

Crow: Is it that simple?
Crow, Tom and Mike all hold up their hands.

"What, I don't hear-" Riker began,

Tom: Mike, it worked for Rushka - why not for us?
Mike: Because *Martin* hates us, guys.
Tom: Well, I'm gonna hate him back!

but cut off in mid-sentence. He heard it too. Scraping sounds.
Rasping, scraping sounds. Like stone being dragged across metal.

Crow: So Streisand's warming up?

They listened intently trying to makeout the direction it was
coming from.
Suddenly, the air was filled with beeping from the sub-phase
communicator. Riker detached it from his belt and turned it on.

Mike: (suave Riker voice) Must be one of my chicks - got two
in every city, ya know...

"Go ahead, Data."

Tom: (Data voice). Two of Diamonds, Commander. Go fish.

"Sir," came Data's voice, "just performing our pre-planned hourly
status check." They had last spoken some 60 minutes ago

Mike: Well, if it's an hourly check, that's the last time they
would have spoken, then.

when the team had first started for Main Engineering. Riker
wondered, had it already been an hour?

Crow: (Riker voice) Since I've sexually harassed Berman's
female assistants?

"Have you anything new to report since our last contact?"
"I don't know yet," the Commander replied. "There's some kind
of noise here,

Tom: (Data voice) But all I can make out is "Big wheel keep
on toinin', Proud Mary keep on boinin'."

I think itmight be survivors." The scraping noise was more
noticeable now. And closer. He turned to LaForge. "Geordi, what
does your tricorder say?"

Mike: (Handy Puppet voice) It's Oedipus - doesn't anybody read
any more?

LaForge flicked open the small, gray device and began punching
buttons on it. Grunting, he smacked it a few times and tried
again.

Crow: Oh, sure, blame the machine.
Tom: Isn't that just like a human?

"Well?" quizzle the Commander.
"Nothing, sir," came the reply. "I'm not picking up anything.

Mike: Unlike you, ya tramp.

No movement, no life forms--nothing, other than the away team.
This nebula must cause more interference than we first thought."

Tom: (tv announcer's voice) They'll get away with that in a
zone, but in man-to-man the zebras will pick up on
that.

Suddenly a thud sounded loudly against a lower access panel just
behind Dr. Rushka--ho shrieked in fright and skitted away.

Tom: Did *Martin* just call Dr. Rushka a "ho"?
Mike: I think *Martin* has some issues to work out regarding
professional women, don't you?
Crow: Let's see now; he dumps Troi on Betazed before the story
even starts--
Tom: Right.
Mike: He *totally* disses Beverly.
Crow: Right.
Tom: And now he's calling Rushka a prostitute in some labored
pseudo-African-American dialect.
Mike: Right. Guys, I think we have a new winner for Net.Loser
Of The Month Award.

Another followed it, and another.
"Data, we appear to have found somebody," said the Commander.

Mike: You can always depend on Riker to delve right into the
heart of the matter. Mind like a steel trap, that
one.

He looked down and saw the small light indicating the connection
was out of time.

Crow: (operator's voice) Insert 25 cents for the next five
minutes.

"I'll let you know more in the next hour."
"Sir, the Captain has ordered hat--"

Tom: Yes, he's ordered a hat - and his will be the *grandest*
of them all.

and the communicator went dead. Riker clipped it back to his belt
and drew his

Mike, Tom and Crow cover their eyes: EEWWWW!

phaser.

Mike: *Whew*
Tom: Dodged a close one there.

Worf stepped forward as the security team brought their weapons to
bear.
"Well Mr. Worf, let's see what we have here."
Riker walked over and began to release the panel.

Crow: Ah, I think he should have taken the box.
Tom: Crow, Curtain #1 is *always* the right answer!
Crow: Hey, Mike - guess what?
Mike: Uhhh....what, Crow?
Crow: Rushka's still alive - you lose the bet! Woo-hooo!
Tom: Yay! Bedtime at 11:30 tonight!