MST'ed: "Star Trek:TNG, Episode 666"
JAREK
[Opening sequence]
[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]
[Bridge of the Satellite of Love. Crow, Mike and Tom Servo are there, in
their usual positions.]
CROW: Wow! That was *definitely* a *wonderful* opening sequence, wasn't
it, Tom?
TOM SERVO: It certainly was, Crow! My heart always skips a beat every time
I watch it! And I know you folks at home feel a special thrill
every time that theme song and that "Robot Roll Call" appears on
your screen. But did you know that it takes a *lot* of money to
keep a satellite in orbit, keep us robots in good repair, feed
Mike and keep transmitting that theme song to all of our fans on
Earth? That's why it's *so* important that you pick up your phone
and call the number on the bottom of your screen during this
pledge break opportunity!
MIKE: That's right, Tom. You know, in this era of spending cuts and leaner,
meaner government, sometimes Dr. Forrester doesn't get all the money he
needs to make sure that we can keep bringing this unique programming to
you. And that's when we depend on *you*, our generous viewers, to help
pick up the slack! I wonder if you've ever stopped to think about what
might happen if Dr. Forrester's funding for the satellite was ever
stopped completely? Let me tell you, the air gets pretty thin up here
when those oxygen converters aren't running! Do you want to see that
happen? I know I don't! So *please* call the number on the bottom of
your screen, and *give generously* to support the Satellite of Love!
You'll be *so* glad you did!
CROW: So many of our fans have already written in to tell us how much they
love our programming, and don't get me wrong, we love every one of
those letters, but don't you think that we'd love them even *more* if
you enclosed money too? That would make sure that you and your
children will continue to see those memorable moments that keep you
tuning in again and again! Who can forget the turning point in our
history when we as a nation rose up behind Mike Nelson to shout a
resounding "No!" to Proposition Deep 13? Who could forget The Haunting
Torgo Theme? Or the first time you saw Tom Servo's head fall off? Do
you think network television would ever bring you moments like these?
Noooooooooo! Don't you want the stirring cry of "Bite me!" to keep
ringing throughout the ages? Don't you want your children to keep
seeing unbelievably bad movies get the razzing that they deserve?
Don't you love your children? If you do, I'm sure you'll do the right
thing and call the number at the bottom of your screen! And if you
don't have children, or don't love them, why don't you take a moment to
think of those who do, and then help keep the spirit of the Satellite
of Love alive for all the generations yet to come! I know you won't
let us down!
TOM SERVO: And we have so many wonderful gifts for all of our viewers who
call in and pledge! For those of you who pledge at the $5,000
level, broken up into two easy payments of $2,500 a month, we
have this lovely tote bag! See the silhouettes on the front? Now
you can have Mike and the bots making fun of the contents of your
tote bag! Isn't that great? Or get this lovely coffee mug for
pledges at the $10,000 level! You get the idea! It's just our
way of saying "Thank you!" for loving the Satellite of Love enough
to help keep it running and keep us on the air! Mike?
MIKE: Well, we've got commercial sign, which means there's only a few seconds
left in this pledge break opportunity, but we'll still take your phone
calls and your money if you'll just call the number at the bottom of
your screen and send a message that says "Yes! I'll help support the
Satellite of Love by sending my generous pledge of support!" Thank you
so very much!
[Commercials. Fast forward past a cabbie dropping dimes into "The Dime
Lady"'s hand. Fast forward past misleading political ads from both sides.
Fast forward past the Energizer bunny desperately trying to draw attention
to itself.]
CROW: Why haven't you been calling?! The phones have been dead all day! Why
are you doing this to us?!
MIKE: Was it something we said? Is it our breath? Do you just not love us
anymore?? We don't mean to be so obsequious, that's just what we get
paid for!!!
TOM SERVO: What do you want from us?! Do you want us to grovel? All right,
we're groveling!
ALL: PLEEEEEEEEEASE, ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease...
[Deep 13]
DR. F: Greetings, East Enders! Say, I wonder why you guys have been getting
nothing but deafening silence in response to your glorified
panhandling? Could it be that people are wondering why they've never
seen a "pledge break" here before and are feeling just a *wee* bit
suspicious? Maybe the *commercial* sign in the middle of your little
beg-a-thon tipped them off? Face it, troopers, that little scheme of
yours is just too transparent for *ANYONE* to fall for...
FRANK [offscreen]: Come on, why don't they answer? I dialed the number at
the bottom of my screen! Don't give me this "line out of
service" crap!
DR. F: Um... excuse me for a moment, won't you? [Dr. Forrester rolls up his
sleeves and puts on a pair of brass knuckles] There's a little
something down here I need to take care of... FRANK!!! [Dr. Forrester
heads offscreen]
[SOL]
TOM SERVO: "Line out of service"? What the hell? Mike, check the phone!
[Mike picks up the phone, listens to it, then looks confused]
MIKE: The line is dead!
TOM SERVO: Are you sure you've got it hooked up right?
MIKE: Yeah, it's hooked up just like it was when I called Grandma! But
there's no dial tone...
CROW: Mike, did you forget to pay your phone bill?
MIKE: Crow... how the heck am I supposed to pay a phone bill when I'm trapped
up here in space?!
TOM SERVO [angrily]: (sigh) Great plan, guys! Just great!
CROW: But we've *got* to have that phone working! Can't you call the phone
company and have them reconnect you?
[Mike gives Crow an exasperated "do-you-realize-what-you-just-said?" look]
CROW: What?
[Tom Servo breaks down and cries]
MIKE: Come on, Tommy, don't give up yet! It's still a good idea to get up
enough money so that we can get our own oxygen, fuel and supplies from
somewhere else and break Dr. F's stranglehold on us! We just have to
find another way to do it, that's all!
TOM SERVO: (sniffle) Hold on, I've got an idea... folks, *please* call the
number on your screen and give generously so that we can reconnect
our phone and... (sob) Oh, what was I thinking?! [Tom Servo
breaks down and cries again]
[Crow puts the phone to his mouth and starts clicking the hangup button]
CROW: Hello, phone company? C'mon, pick up, I know you're there!
[Mike just gives the camera a weary look and presses the Mads button as it
lights]
[Deep 13]
[Dr. Forrester has grabbed Frank by the collar of his shirt. Frank has many
bumps and bruises on his face, complete with a black eye and a nosebleed. He
acts very punch-drunk, and would probably fall to the floor if Dr. Forrester
wasn't holding him up.]
DR. F: Now, Frank, do you understand that you *already* support the Satellite
of Love just by working for me?
FRANK [dazed]: Uh-huh.
DR. F: And do you understand that if you *ever* help those melon-heads up
there in another one of their hare-brained escape attempts, I'm
going to have to strap you into a chair, pry open your eyelids and
force you to watch a marathon of Barney & Friends? I've got the tape,
Frank, and I'm not afraid to use it!
FRANK [nodding, still dazed, a little scared]: I'll be good.
DR. F: Besides, Frank, you're still paying off the pledge that got you a
lovely T-shirt from that other pledge drive! You don't want to
overextend yourself by taking on another pledge, Frank... I don't pay
you enough money to afford it!
FRANK: I guess you're right, Clay. Wow, just think... three more payments
and that T-shirt's gonna be *mine*!
DR. F: Yes, Frank. Now why don't you go lie down and give that concussion a
chance to heal?
FRANK: Thanks, Steve.
[Frank walks off camera]
DR. F: And speaking of head injuries, Mike, your experiment today comes from
the fractured mind of one Ryan M. Landek! Pop quiz, hotshot! What do
you get when you take the manic pace and out-of-the-blue plot
development of "The Young Ones", throw in a starship and then filter
out any sense of humor? Hm? That's right! You get "Star Trek:TNG,
Episode 666"... and I think you'll agree that this episode is *very*
aptly numbered! Prepare for pain, Nelson... and thank you for
supporting public HELL-o-vision!
[Dr. Forrester chuckles madly as he pushes the button]
[SOL]
[Crow is still clicking the hangup button and talking into the phone]
CROW [singing]: Keep on trying to phone you but I can't get through, our
communication *must* *get* *through*...
[Sirens flash, buzzers buzz, pandemonium erupts]
MIKE: Look, I hate to interrupt your Robert Palmer impression, Crow, but
WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIGN!!!
CROW [singing]: Ohhhh... don't hang up...
[..6..]
[..5..]
[..4..]
[..3..]
[..2..]
[..1..]
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From: RTE...@prodigy.com (Mr. Ryan M. Landek)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Star Trek:TNG - Episode 666
MIKE: Damien's back, and this time it's personal!
CROW: The Final Conflict unfolds on The Final Frontier!
Date: 17 Aug 1996 22:52:30 GMT
Organization: Prodigy Services Company 1-800-PRODIGY
Lines: 519
Distribution: world
Message-ID: <4v5ife$q...@usenetp1.news.prodigy.com>
In article <4v5ife$q...@usenetp1.news.prodigy.com>, RTE...@prodigy.com
(Mr. Ryan M. Landek) writes:
>**** From here on, speling desn't count! ****
CROW: (snickers loudly)
MIKE: Sorry, but if you misspell the "please excuse the spelling mistakes
that pre-K children would laugh at" disclaimer, then we get to ignore
it.
TOM SERVO: Remember, our rules, we make 'em up!
>(Some of the humor in this story
TOM SERVO: ... exists only in Mr. Landek's imagination!
> is making fun of some of the stuff the
>
> actors and actresses do on Star Trek:TNG, other stuff is just stupid
>things
> that I added to make it funny.
CROW: Take out the last four words, and you've got it right!
> Just my wacky brain going nuts.
MIKE: Hyuck! Get ready for the wacky, whimsical, off-beat, mixed-up,
off-the-wall, demented comic genius that *is* Ryan M. Landek!
CROW [as Ryan Landek]: "Yup, I'm really kind of a cut-up, that's me pretty
much... you can ask my mom, she'll tell you!"
> Any
>questions,
> comments or death threats can be made to my E-Mail address which you
>will
> see every so often as a sort of subliminal message. (K...@Juno.com))
TOM SERVO: Thanks, but we'll make our comments right here and now.
MIKE: You might also see this email address every so often in the "Worst of
the Usenet" web page as sort of a warning.
>Star Trek: The Next Generation
>By: Ryan Landek (K...@Juno.com)
>Episode: 666
>Name: Yes
TOM SERVO: Jon Anderson should *definitely* sue.
>Picard: Captain's Log, Stardate...um...I donno! I never knew how that
>thing
> worked.
MIKE [as Picard]: This damn Ferengi wristwatch *never* gives the right date!
TOM SERVO: See, this is funny because Picard was *always* forgetting the
Stardate in the TV show...
> We are currently flying into the Romulan Neutral Zone
> because I feel like kicking some Romulan butt.
CROW [as Will Smith]: Let's kick some E.T. butt!
>(Da Bridge.
MIKE: Da Bulls.
TOM SERVO: Da Bears.
CROW [as Cowardly Lion]: Da Noive.
> Picard walks in from his Ready Room.)
ALL: (loudly imitate the Dick Van Dyke Show theme)
>Picard: ahem.
>Riker: Do I have to?
TOM SERVO [as Riker]: Be in this crappy fanfic, I mean?
>Picard: Yes. Just say it.
>Riker: Fine. I love you.
CROW [as Picard]: Then I have my answer! I'm walking on air!
>Picard: WHAT!
>Riker: Sorry. I mean, (under his breath) Captain on the Bridge.
>Picard: I CAN'T HERE YOU!!!
>Riker: CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE!!!
MIKE [as Picard]: WHAT?! SORRY, BETTER TURN UP MY HERE-ING AID!
>Picard: Much better. Data?
>Data: Approching the Neutral Zone. No ships currently in sensor
>range.
> Thank god!
CROW: Thank god there's nothing to distract us from this *riveting*
dialogue on the bridge...
>Picard: Well, take us throught the Neutral Zone and into Romulan
>space. Warp
>
>9.999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999.
>LaForge: Our engines can't go that fast!
MIKE [as La Forge]: We can't hold down the '9' key for that long, sir!
>Picard: So.
MIKE: So?
CROW: Si.
>LaForge: I know...I can take all the power away from everthing else and
>
> devert it to the engines.
TOM SERVO [as hick La Forge]: Shoot, everthin' else ain't all that impot'nt
anyhow! It's only our oxygen supply 'n' stuff!
>Picard: Make it so. Make IT so. Make it SO. MAKE it so. MAKE IT so.
>MAKE IT
> SO! I love saying that.
CROW: Oh *please* keep saying it, we just can't get enough of it either...
>{Dadatdadatdadatdadadada}
>
>Riker: Is that the Oscar Mayer Weiner song?
MIKE: No, that was the telegraph.
>Data: Yes. I thought it sounded better than that {WoooWeeeWoo}
>thingy
TOM SERVO: It's just Data's wacky brain going nuts again!
>(Picard over the intercom)
MIKE [singing]: If Picard flies over the intercom, why then, oh why can't I?
>Picard: We are deverting all the power to the engines including life
>support
> so just like hold your breath or something. Picard In.
>Data: That's "out" sir.
CROW [as Picard]: OUT?!? He was *SAFE*!!!
MIKE: Oh no, he used a contraction... it must be Lore in disguise!
>Picard: What? oh. yes. so it is. Picard out.
>
>Picard: Ensign. Take us into Romulan Space. Warp
>9.9999999999999999999999999
>
>9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999.
>LaForge: Excuse me captain but I--
TOM SERVO [as La Forge]: ... but I diverted all the power I could, and the
best we can do is Warp 9.999999999999999999999999
999999999999998.
>Picard: No excuse ME LaForge. I think me rank starts with a capitol
> letter.
CROW [as Picard]: I also think ye're startin' to get me Irish up!
TOM SERVO: Look at the credits for the show some time... *everyone's* rank
starts with a capital letter!
>LaForge: Sorry. Wait, I think that the kind of capital your talking
>about
> ends in "al" and not "ol."
MIKE: Here we see what a *firm* grasp Mr. Landek has on the English language.
TOM SERVO: I'm glad he learned *something* from all those years in the sixth
grade!
>Picard: Sorry go on.
>LaForge: As I was saying. Excuse me Captain but I thought we were going
>Warp
>
>9.999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999.
> Not Warp
>9.999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
> 99999999999999999999999999999999999. Would you please make up
>your
> mind.
TOM SERVO: It's not exactly Peter David, is it?
CROW [as La Forge]: Hey, if we push it to Warp 10 we could turn into lizards
and mate with each other!
>Picard: Sorry. Warp
>9.999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
> 999999999999.
>
>(Picard sit in his chair.)
MIKE: Now sit in her chair. Now roll over. Good boy!
>Picard: Engage.
CROW [as Picard]: EN-gage. En-GAGE. En-GA-ge. ENGAGE! Oh, what fun this
is!
>(Picard points to his right, poking Riker in the Eye.)
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Here, Number One, pull my finger... oh, I'm terribly
sorry! Let me help you put that back in the socket...
>Riker: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! My Eye. My Eye.
MIKE [as guy from Exit 57]: Oh, my eye is hanging by a nerve! IT'S HANGING
BY A *NERVE*!!!
>Troi: Dr. Crusher to the Battle Bridge. Medical Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
>Picard: Were not on the Battle Bridge.
CROW [as Troi]: Were too!
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Were not!
CROW [as Troi]: Were too!
>Troi: Just watch. Dr. Crusher to the Transporter Room 3. Medical
>Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
MIKE [as Troi]: False alarms are fun!
>Picard: I get it. Lemme try. Dr. Crusher to the Ten Forward. Medical
> Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
CROW [as Picard]: This is more fun than tripping the fire alarms all over
Starfleet Academy!
>Worf: Dr. Crusher to the Jefferies Tube 8-b. Medical Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
CROW [as Dr. Crusher]: I'll just leave that critically ill patient I was
tending to so I can go on this wild goose chase...
TOM SERVO: I don't suppose she has any *medical staff* she can send out?
>Data: Dr. Crusher to the Warp Core. Medical Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
MIKE [as Data]: Oh, and Doctor, do us all a favor and drop your son into the
core while you're there...
>LaForge: Dr. Crusher to the Fridge. Medical Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
CROW [as Dr. Crusher]: There might be a sandwich going bad in there! I've
gotta save it!
>Ensign: Dr. Crusher to the Bridge. Medical Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
>Worf: Stupid Ensign!
MIKE: Trix are for kids!
>(He pulls out a phaser rifle and kills the expendable ensign.)
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Mr. Worf, I do believe your temper is improving!
>Picard: Hay! That looks fun!
MIKE [as Picard]: Yeah! Let's go roll in the hay!
>Worf: It is Sir.
>Picard: Lemme try.
>
>(Worf throws the rifle to Picard.)
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Is there a bell tower around here? Maybe a book
depository?
>Picard: Hay, all you ensigns playing Solitare up at the Science
>Stations.
> Front and Center.
CROW [as Ensign]: But I was just about to make the cards bounce all over the
screen!
>(Two ensigns walk down the ramp, followed by Worf.)
TOM SERVO [announcer's voice]: And the ensigns come around the turn and into
the home stretch with Worf right on their
tails!
>Riker: My eye! It's bleeding all over!
MIKE: That's why you should never settle for cheap contact lenses.
>Picard: That's nice. Mr. Worf. Would you do the honors?
>Worf: Gladly.
CROW [as Worf]: Which eye do you want poked out, sir?
>(Worf picks up the two ensigns.)
MIKE [as Worf]: Say, you ensigns have *really* pretty eyes. Come around here
much? Why don't you come back to my quarters for dinner?
>Picard: Pull!
>
>(Worf throws the ensigns into the air and Picard fires and hit's both
>of them.
> They disinigrate in the air.)
TOM SERVO: And the phasers knock out the window on the top of the bridge,
and all the air gets sucked out, and they all *die*, and WE DON'T
HAVE TO READ THIS CRAP ANYMORE!!!
MIKE: Nice try, Tommy...
>Picard: Well, that was fun.
>Riker: MMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYY EEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
CROW [as Picard]: Listen, fun is fun, but do your Oedipus impression on your
own time...
>Troi: Will, I sense your going through complete agonny.
TOM SERVO: No, that's coming from us... *we're* in complete agony!
>Riker: Thank you Captain Obvious!!!
>Picard: Hay, hay, hay!
CROW: IT'S FAAAAAAAAAAAAAT ALBERT!
> I'm the Captain here!!!
MIKE [as Picard, singing]: I'm your captain... I'm your captain...
>Worf: Walk it off for God's sake!
>Picard: I'm gunna go have some tea. Earl Gray. Hot.
CROW: Mike... Landek *did* say there was going to be humor in this story,
right?
>(Picard throws the rifle in his chair. The rifle goes off, hitting
>Riker in
> the arm.)
>
>Riker: My Arm.
MIKE [as Riker]: Ouch. Oh my God. I can't believe how much this hurts.
Somebody help me please.
>Worf: Shutup you baby.
TOM SERVO: Hmmm... is it just me, or does it seem like Landek really HATES
Will Riker?
>(Picard walks into his ready room and walks up to the Replicator.)
>
>Picard: Tea. Earl Gray. Hot. Tea. EARL Gray. Hot. Tea. Earl GRAY. Hot.
>
> Tea. Earl Gray. HOT. TEA. Earl Gray. Hot. TEA! EARL GRAY! HOT!
TOM SERVO: Shut up. SHUT up. Shut UP. SHUT UP!!!
CROW [as replicator]: Tea? Whoa, that's a hard one. I'd better get some
help from Eddie the Shipboard Computer on this one...
>(Six cups of Tea form in the Replictor.)
>
>Picard: Woowa. To many. Hay fishys. Do you like Tea. Earl Gray. Hot.
>
>(Picard dumps five cups of tea, earl gray, hot into the fish bowl and
>walks
> out of his Ready Room.)
MIKE: Tonight, on a very special episode of "The Real Bowl"... the Boston
Tea Party is re-enacted with tragic results...
>Ensign: Sir, I'm sorry but there is no, Tea. Earl Gray. Hot. Allowed
>on the
> Bridge.
>Picard: Worf.
>
>(Worf shoots the expendable ensign.)
CROW: Boy, that mass murder bit just keeps getting funnier, doesn't it?
>Worf: I could do this all day.
TOM SERVO: And Mr. Landek would make us read about *every minute* of it too!
>(Worf pulls a huge klingon knife out of his pocket and scraches a line
>into
> the wood panel. Then he turns around and shoots another ensign and
>scraches
> another line in the panel.)
CROW: Hey Worf... there's a twenty in it for you if you aim for the author
next time!
>Riker: I'M DYING HERE!!!
MIKE [as Rodney Dangerfield]: Oo, tough crowd, I'm dyin' out here...
>(Picard sir down and spills his drink on Riker.)
TOM SERVO [singing]: Come on in, sir right down, daddy let your mind roll
on...
>Riker: AHHHHHHHHHH!!! It's buring my lap!
CROW [as Riker]: I'm suing McDonald's for all they're worth!
>Picard: Ohhh! I spilled my Tea. Earl Gray. Hot.
>Troi: Will, are you hurting?
TOM SERVO [as Troi]: Good! Serves you right for leaving me waiting in the
wings while you go chasing everything in a skirt!
>Picard: Alrighty Data. Let's kick some Butt.
MIKE [as Picard]: OUCH! Not *my* butt, Data!
CROW [as Data]: Sorry sir, I'm still unfamiliar with some human slang...
>Data: There are 20 Romulan Warbirds approching at Warp 14.
>Picard: They can't do that!
>Data: Why not.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: 'Cause I said so!
>Picard: Because the creator, Gene Roddenbarry, set a Warp 10 limit to
>warp
> speed.
MIKE: Listen, Landek, if you're going to defile Gene Roddenberry's creation,
the least you can do is get his name right!
CROW: How fast do you think he's spinning in his grave, Tom?
TOM SERVO: He's *got* to be pushing the Warp 10 limit by now...
>Data: Well they're going that fast and at the beep they will be here
>in
> 9:38:26.66.86.23.78.23.32....
CROW: Hike!
> beep.
>Picard: That's just a little to percise for me Data.
MIKE: Wow, look at all those decimal places! There's so much attention to
detail in this fanfic...
>Data: Sorry Sir. Don't hurt me.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Don't worry, Data, you're safe. You haven't quite
learned to emulate those beautiful screams of agony
that Riker's so good at.
>(A guy appears on the viewscreen.)
>
>Picard: Data, do you see that?
CROW [as Data]: What, behind the guy on the viewscreen?
>Data: AHHH! What was that!
>Picard: Who is he?
>Data: It looks like--
>Picard: It is! It's a squigy guy! Get outta here! No we don't want any
> Go away!
>
>(The guy walks away)
TOM SERVO: "Squigy"? What is this, Laverne and Shirley all of a sudden?
CROW: I think he meant "squeegee", Tom.
MIKE [as documentary narrator]: After being kicked out of the continuum, Q
had to scrape up money however he could...
>Picard: Tell me when the Romulans are here. I'll be somewhere.
>Data: Yes Sir. But please hurry.
CROW [as Data]: The whole story will fall apart without you!
>(Picard walks into the Turbolift.)
TOM SERVO [as turbolift]: Ouch! Watch where you're going, will ya!
>Picard: Deck 1.
>Picard: Deck 2.
>Picard: Deck 3.
>Picard: Deck 4.
>Picard: Deck 5.
MIKE: Hmm... what deck is he going to pick next? The suspense is killing
me...
>Picard: Deck 6.
>Picard: Deck 7.
>Picard: Deck 8.
>Picard: Deck 9.
>Picard: Deck 10.
TOM SERVO: You know, most people push all the buttons on an elevator and
then get *off*...
>Picard: Deck 11.
>Picard: Deck 12.
>Picard: Deck 13.
>Picard: Deck 14.
>Picard: Deck 15.
CROW: Hey look... Landek's stacking the decks! Heh heh, get it, *stacking*
'cause he's... ah, forget it...
TOM SERVO: Why is Landek so obsessed with these decks, anyway?
MIKE: Maybe because he's not playing with a full one?
>Picard: Deck 16.
>Picard: Deck 17.
>Picard: Deck 18.
>Picard: Deck 19.
>Picard: Deck 20.
MIKE [as Count von Count]: *TWENTY*... *GLORIOUS*... *DECKS*! AH AH AH AH
AH AH AH AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
>Picard: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
TOM SERVO: Not here, Jean-Luc, there are bathrooms for that...
>(Picard walks to Sickbay.)
>
>Picard: Ensign. Wheres Crusher.
CROW [as Ensign]: She said something about getting out of this fanfic while
the getting was good, sir...
>Ensign: She's been gone all morning. Theres been a lot of accedents
>going on
> all around the ship.
MIKE [as Ensign]: The ensigns heard about your little target practice
sessions, and they wet 'em.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Huh? No, I didn't send out any false alarms!
>Picard: So tell me ensign. How good are you at repairing human flesh.
CROW [as Ensign]: Is it under warranty?
>Ensign: Very good accually.
>Picard: So if I picked up this big knife and cut off my small toe like
>so.
>
>(WACK!)
>
>Picard: You wouldn't be the least bit consirned.
>Ensign: No. Here lemme put that in ice.
CROW [as Ensign]: I wouldn't want to reattach it *now*... that would be too
simple!
>Picard: How bout if I pierced my thigh like so.
>
>(STAB!)
>
>Ensign: Make sure you leave that in for 2 weeks or the hole will grow
>close.
MIKE [as Picard]: And if I took this knife, jammed it into my stomach and
then sliced upwards as hard as I could, would that bother
you?
TOM SERVO [as Ensign]: I'd understand completely, sir. This amateur bumbling
excuse for a fanfic has been hard on all of us...
>Picard: Ok. What if I keep punching myself in the head really really
>hard
> like this.
>
>(POW! POW! POW!)
MIKE [as Ensign]: Sorry sir, I can't let you do that. That's a leading cause
of Landek's Syndrome... you could end up spending the rest
of your life spewing doggerel onto Usenet!
>eNSIGN: pERSONALLY-
>pICARD: tURN OFF cAPS lOCK.
>eNSIGN: oHH YEA.
CROW: Ha ha ha ha! *Nobody* doesn't like a good Caps Lock joke!
>Ensign: Personally I think this is starting to sound like a really bad
>Batman
> TV Show.
TOM SERVO: Don't flatter yourself, Landek... so far you've made the *worst*
episode of Batman look like *Shakespeare* compared to *this* piece
of sewage!
>Picard: Yes I agree. Here can you sop up some of this blood.
CROW [as Picard]: Who'd have thought I'd have so much blood in me?
>Data via Comm Pin: Sir. 20 Warbirds de-clocking. Hurry! I'm scared!
MIKE [as Data]: They've been dropping clocks all over the place, and it's
really scary!
>Picard: Not now. Tell them to wait. I'm busy.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: They'll just have to attack us for invading their
territory another time! I'm not done grossing out
the medical staff yet!
>(Picard picks up some thing with a lot of lights on it and waves it all
>over
> his body and fixes himself. He then pickes up a phaser and kill the
>ensign.)
MIKE [as Picard]: How about that, Mr. Smartypants Medical Ensign? Can you
fix that, huh? Can you?!
>Picard via Comm Pin: Mr. Worf. Add one to my tally.
CROW [as Picard]: No, wait! Make that... twelve! Yeah, that's it...
>(Worf scraches a line under Picard.)
TOM SERVO: Wait a minute... how did Worf get there so fast? And how did he
scratch a line under Picard's feet?
MIKE: I think Landek was talking about the wood panel scoreboard. Then
again, maybe the continuity just sank to the level of everything else
in this story...
>Picard: Dr. Crusher to Sickbay. Medical Emergency.
>Crusher: On my way.
CROW: I can see it now... Picard has a heart attack and dies while waiting
for the doctor to finish racing all over the ship...
TOM SERVO: I like that bit of irony, Crow, but I don't think we'll see it
happen.
>(Picard walks on to the Bridge.)
ALL: (imitate the Dick Van Dyke Show theme again)
>Picard: Alrighty Mr. Data. Let's kick some Romulan booty. Worf, arm
>all
> phasers and photon torpedos. Widest spread you can get.
>Worf: Weapons armed.
>Picard: Open a channel to all 20 ship.
CROW [as Worf]: All of the 20th ship? Sure, no problem...
>Worf: Channel open.
>Picard: Withdraw or I'll kick your butt.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: No wait, that didn't come out quite right... phrase
that a little more diplomatically before you send it
out, Mr. Worf...
>Worf: No answer.
MIKE: I wonder why?
>Riker: I'LL NEVER SEE AGAIN! I'LL HAVE TO WEAR A PATCH OVER MY EYE!
>THIS
> ARM WILL NEVER BE THE SAME! NOR WILL GOING TO THE BATHROOM!
CROW [as Riker]: AND WORST OF ALL... I'M STILL IN THIS CRAPPY FANFIC!!!
>Worf: I would never complain in your situation.
MIKE [as Worf]: Hunt down the ones responsible and garrote them with their
own intestines, yes, but complain? Never!
> The phasers and
>torpedos
> had no effect.
CROW [as Picard]: What phasers and torpedoes?! We haven't fired any yet!
> They are now firing on us. We have sustained
>300
> torpedos and 120 phaser hits. Shields down to 99%.
TOM SERVO: I didn't know Marrissa was on board! When did she take command?
>Picard: Fire!
>Data: Where?!!
>Picard: Not you. Mr. Worf.
>Data: Worf's on fire!!!
CROW [as Picard]: I'm not telling you who's on fire!
TOM SERVO [as Data]: Who's on first!
CROW [as Picard]: I don't know!
CROW & TOM SERVO: THIRD BASE!!!
>Picard: No. I was talking to Mr. Worf. Why did you install that
>paranoia chip
> anyway Data.
MIKE [as Data]: Because I've always wanted to be a Troubleshooter and hunt
down commie mutant traitor scum in Alpha Complex, sir!
>Data: Sorry sir. I just wanted--
>Picard: Thats enough Data.
>Data: Yes sir.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: You were starting to bring the plot to a grinding
halt, Mr. Data, and I won't have that!
>Worf: We have destroyed all but 10 of their ships.
>Picard: Prepair a second volly.
>Worf: Yes Sir.
>Data: The score is: Worf 1 set to Picard's 2 sets, however, you Mr.
>Worf
> is winning this set, 5 games to 2. The score is 40-love and it
>is
> your serve.
TOM SERVO: Oh. Tennis volley, not torpedo volley. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.
CROW [as Graham Chapman]: They mean to win Wimbledon!
>Riker: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>Data: Quite. Quite please. Mr. Worf is prepairing to serve.
MIKE: Starfleet Security. Their job: to protect and to serve.
CROW: Quite.
>Worf: HeeeYa!
ALL [singing]: Rawhiiiiiiide!
>Data: 120mph serve.
TOM SERVO [as Irish cop]: All right, pull it over... do you know how fast you
were serving back there?!
>(Picard dives but misses.
CROW [as announcer]: Oh, he's missed the pool completely... that *will*
affect his score!
> The ball hits Riker in the head, knocking him
>out.)
TOM SERVO [as Riker]: Why you do this to me? I am having hard enough time!
>Data: Good thing you didn't get hurt by that, Captain. That would
>leave a
> mark. Ace for Worf.
MIKE [as Data]: Eight of Chris Lemmon for Troi.
CROW: Mike... what *was* the point of that exercise, anyway?
>Picard: Sometimes I think he's stacking the deck.
>Data: I assure you. The cards are sufficently randomized.
>
>(Die hard Trekkers whould get that last stacking the deck joke.)
TOM SERVO: So if you didn't laugh at that joke, it's *your* fault for not
watching enough Star Trek!
>Picard: Ohh well.
>Data: What about the Romulans Sir? They could destroy us. Or board
>the ship
> and start eating us. AHHH!!!
MIKE: Sorry. Landek wouldn't let anything interesting like that happen...
>Picard: Ohh yes, the Romulans!!! Well this is getting boring
ALL: YES, IT IS!!!
> so Worf
>just
> destroy the rest of them.
>Worf: Yes sir...Their dead.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: No, Mr. Worf! Destroy their ships, not their dead!
>Data: What now Sir.
>Picard: Umm...I know.
>Data: Yes Sir?
>Picard: Let's strighten our shirts!
>
>(The whole crew get's up and strightens their shirt.)
>
>Picard: Much better.
MIKE: Bwah hah hah hah hah! Oh, Landek, you lovable nut, you've done it
again! I wonder what delightful surprises he has in store for us
next...
>(Troi falls on the ground, cluching her head.)
>
>Picard: Are you ok?
TOM SERVO [as Troi]: I just felt a disturbance in the Force, as though a
million voices were crying out and suddenly... whoops,
wrong genre!
>Troi: Fine, just a migrane.
MIKE: This fanfic will do that to you.
>Picard: Ohh. I know. Let's see how fast we can dry dock.
CROW: Do you want to dry dock... *faster*?
MIKE: So how do you "dry dock" a starship, anyway? Run it into a land mass?
ALL: DO IT!!!
>Worf: Umm..I say...Warp 5.
>Data: We could get hurt!
>LaForge: Warp 7 for me.
TOM SERVO [as La Forge]: I want to see our body parts strewn all over *three*
quadrants!
>Picard: Data, set course for the nearest starbase. Warp 9. Tell them
>we
> will be dry docking.
MIKE: What, no decimal places after the 9? How could Landek let a perfect
opportunity for a great joke slip by like that?
>(The Enterprise zips off to Starbase 04530681. Riker regains
>consiousness.)
>
>Riker: My Heeeaaaad.
>Picard: Will, did you straighten your shirt before.
TOM SERVO [as Riker]: No sir! I strightened it, just like you said!
>Riker: No.
>Picard: That's probably why. LaForge, come here.
CROW [as Picard]: It's your turn to torture Riker.
>LaForge: Yes Captain.
>Picard: Lemme see your visor.
>
>(Picard puts the visor on.)
>
>Picard: Hay, look at me.
MIKE [singing]: I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree...
> I'm a blind guy whose only friend is a robot.
CROW: Ha ha! What kind of a geek pals around with robots all day? Whoops,
sorry Mike...
>Data: Tecnically, I'm an android.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Yeah, well, technically you can bite me!
>Picard: Ohh shut up Data. I'm the big cheese here.
>Data: You wanna go Baldy.
CROW: *We* wanna go! How much longer does this waste of bandwidth go on?!?
>Picard: Yea, let's go, right now, you and me. And I'll fight with this
>visor
> on.
MIKE: Ah, another well thought-out plot development, brought to you as only
Ryan Landek can!
>(Data picks up Riker and uses him as a club. He swings and misses
>several
> times hitting Rikers head on the floor.
MIKE [as baseball announcer]: Swing and a miss, and that'll end the inning!
CROW [as wrestling announcer]: Come on, ref, stop the fight! That's gotta be
an illegal weapon!
> Data goes for one giant blow
>and
> sinks Rikers head into the Tactical panal.
TOM SERVO: Let's see... "blow"... "sinks head into panal"... nope, gonna
leave that one right alone!
> While Data is trying to hit
>
> Picard, Picard is giving the Conn panal and a few walls their just
>beating.)
>
>Picard: I can't see! (As he runs into a wall.)
TOM SERVO: You know, not even Benny Hill would have made his slapstick *this*
bad...
>Troi: Stop!
MIKE [as Troi, singing]: In the naaaaaaame of loooooooove...
CROW [as Troi]: If you boys can't play nicely with the other bridge officers,
take it outside!
>(Everyone sits down but Picard.)
>
>Picard: I don't have to listen to you mortal.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: I'm the god! I'M THE GOD!!!
>Troi: May I remind the Captain once again that he is also a mortal.
>Picard: What?!! Um... Ohh. Yes. So I am.
MIKE: Now this joke *really* works because Picard was *always* having
delusions of godhood in the series...
>(Picard sits down.)
>
>Riker: My head. It's going to explode!
TOM SERVO: Oh good! Someone else knows how I feel right now!
>Data: Sir. May I continue my reasearch at the nice safe science
>stations.
>Picard: Yes, Mr. Data.
CROW: Now what makes those science stations safer than any other place on
this ship?
MIKE: Well, there was the one part where the two expendable ensigns had to
leave those stations before Picard could gun them down...
TOM SERVO: Maybe the science stations nullify phaser energy?
>(Data trips on Rikers head knocking him out.)
TOM SERVO: Boot to the head!
CROW & MIKE: Nyah nyah!
>Data: AHH!!! What happened.
>Worf: You tripped.
MIKE [as Worf]: You licked the blotter.
>Data: What's going to happen to me?!!
>Worf: Your going to get up.
TOM SERVO [heavy sarcasm]: Oh, good call, Nostradamus...
>Data: Oh.
>Picard: Hay. Ensign, come into my Ready Room. I've got something to
>show you.
MIKE [as Picard]: Bring the peanut butter and the nipple clips.
>Ensign: I'm not that kinda guy Captain.
TOM SERVO [as Ensign]: I'm really more of a Velveeta man, sir...
>Picard: That's sick. Just come here now.
>
>(Picard and the Ensign walk into the Ready Room. The Ensign rushes
>over to
> the fish tank.)
CROW [as Ensign]: Sorry sir, but I've been craving sushi for a long time!
TOM SERVO [as Homer Simpson]: Mmmmm... unprocessed fish sticks!
>Ensign: Excuse me Captain but how long has it been since you cleaned
>this
> tank. The water's all brown. And all the fish are dead.
>Picard: NOT MY FAVORITE BLOW FISH CHARLIE!
MIKE [as Picard]: Hootie's gonna be pissed!
CROW [as commercial announcer]: Sorry, Charlie.
>(Picard reaches in the fish tank and graps the fish and throws it on
>the table.
> He starts giving it mouth to mouth.)
MIKE: Guys... we're *really* getting into a *WEIRD* area here...
CROW [as Picard]: This may not help the fish at all, but I get a kick out of
it!
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Ouch! Damn poisonous spines...
>Ensign: He's dead.
MIKE: ...Jim.
>Picard: I'll leave him here forever! (sob. sob.)
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: His rotting, smelly corpse will remind me of how much
this story stinks!
>Ensign: So what did you want me for.
>Picard: Ohh...yes. I still have one Turbolift pass left!
>Ensign: Yes. You were right.
CROW [as Ensign]: This Landek guy really doesn't know how to write.
> My knees are starting to swell out from
>using
> the Jefferies Tubes.
TOM SERVO: Oh no, it's Ensign Torgo!!!
CROW: ThE mAsTeR wOuLd NoT aPpRoVe Of ViOlAtInG tHe PrImE dIrEcTiVe...
> Is it still 50 bars of latinum?
>Picard: Yep.
>Ensign: I'll take it!
>Picard: I knew it.
MIKE: You'd think a progressive organization like Starfleet would reimburse
people for using mass transit...
TOM SERVO: Let me guess... next they'll have to pay for their share of the
oxygen too?
>(They walk out of the Ready Room. Picard picks up his phaser and shoots
>the
> Ensign. Worf scraches another line into the tactical panal.)
TOM SERVO: They Shoot Ensigns, Don't They?
CROW: Well, that's one way to save some wear and tear on those turbolifts!
MIKE [as Picard]: Lure 'em in, take their latinum, gun 'em down... it's
almost too easy!
>Worf: Approching Starbase 89234709
TOM SERVO: What happened to Starbase 04530681?
CROW: You're not seriously expecting continuity *now*, are you?
>Picard: Take us in. Warp 9.
TOM SERVO [as helmsman]: Augering in, sir!
>(Prepair for Docking sequ-WHAM!-Docking sequence complete. The
>Enterprise
> dry docks at Warp 9 sending it and the space staion 5 star systems
>away.)
MIKE: One of the space station's "t's" must have been jarred loose by the
impact...
>Picard: Everyone to a window! I gotta see this!
CROW [as Picard]: If I want to look out the window, everyone else has to!
>(On the bridge)
>
>Riker: Huh?...computer... where's...the...bridge..crew?
MIKE [as Riker]: They'll... pay... for... what... they... did... to... me...
>Computer: Like, the surfing computer says, the whole bridge crew is,
>like,
> in the observation, like, lounge, like ok, so like stop
>bothering
> me, like ok.
CROW: That's what happens when you let Pauly Shore reprogram your computer.
TOM SERVO: Or when you let Shirley McLoon from Tiny Toons fill in for
Majel Barrett on voiceovers.
>(Riker crawls to the observation lounge.)
>
>Picard: Ok. That was interesting. Last one back the the bridge is a
>rotten
> egg.
TOM SERVO: Looks like Landek brought in Robert Buchanan to help out with
that last sentence...
MIKE: Last one back the the bridge has to be in the sequel!
CROW & TOM: SEQUEL?! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
MIKE: Calm down, guys... it was just a joke...
>(Everyone runs out of the obersvation lounge, not seeing Riker and
>trampling
> all over him, knocking him unconsious again. Crusher comes out of the
>Turbo
> Lift.)
CROW: Oh, please tell me she's here to declare the entire crew unfit for
duty!
>Crusher: Someone call for me 6 hours ago.
>Picard: Umm...no, I don't think so.
TOM SERVO [as Picard]: Time travelling to six hours ago just to give you a
call is pretty stupid, Doctor!
>Troi: Ohh! Wait! I believe Riker did.
>Riker: Ohhhhhh...
>Crusher: Will, you look horrible. You should lay down. I'll be off.
CROW [as Dr. Crusher]: Oh, and make sure you see a doctor about those head
injuries... they look pretty serious!
TOM SERVO [as Dr. Crusher]: No insurance, huh? Well, wish I could stay...
>Riker: Ohhhhhh...
>
>(Riker rolls into the Turbolift.)
>
>Riker: Deck...8.
MIKE [as Riker]: No, wait! Deck...1. Deck...2. Deck...3...
>(Riker lays there. The Turbolift stops on Deck 7 and 50 people pile in
>not
> seeing him.
CROW [as random turbolift rider]: Hey! Why is this floor so lumpy?
MIKE [as other turbolift rider]: And why is it making bloodcurdling sounds
of agony?
TOM SERVO [as other turbolift rider]: Somebody should really clean up all
this blood and matted hair...
> He becomes a floor mat for the next 3 hours. When he
>regains
> conscienceness
MIKE: If the author had any "conscienceness", he'd at least have the decency
to send everyone who reads this piece of toxic waste an apology!
> he pulls himself to his quarters using his last
>remaining
> molar
TOM SERVO: "Molar"? So he pulled himself along with his last remaining
tooth? Have I mentioned yet how *stupid* this whole thing is?!
> but passes out with his head part way in the door. The door
>continues
> to open and close on his head for the next 2 hours.)
MIKE: I think you're right, Tom... Landek *definitely* feels about Riker the
same way most people feel about Wesley.
>The End
TOM SERVO: Hey, get this guys! He actually wrote something I like!
MIKE: This concludes today's episode of "Ship of Fools".
CROW: Oh my God, it's over! Race you to the exit, guys, I'm outta here!
[Everyone gets up to leave]
> (sort of. Read below.)
ALL: AAAAAIIIIIGGGGGHHHHH!!!
MIKE: Now he's toying with us!
TOM SERVO: We're all just pawns in his little game! He'll never let us out
of here! Oh, when will it *end*?!?
CROW [angrily]: Landek... you'd better hope I never get down from this
satellite...
[Everyone sits down again]
>Got a good ending? Put it here.
TOM SERVO: Got a good story? I could use one of those too!
> Hey now I could say it's a Choose Your
>Own
>Adventure.
MIKE: Oh, please don't drag down the good name of a series that *some* people
can enjoy!
> If it's really funny then E-Mail it to me at K...@Juno.com
>L8r.
CROW: Mike, would getting all the crew together to yell "Bite me, Landek!"
be a funny ending?
MIKE: I don't know, Crow, but let's send it to him anyway.
>Q
TOM SERVO: Huh? Oh, I get it! This was all part of Q's latest plan to annoy
humanity!
MIKE: Actually, I think that's our "Q" to leave...
CROW: You don't have to tell me twice!
[Everyone rushes for the exit]
[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
[..4..]
[..5..]
[..6..]
[The bridge is empty]
MAGIC VOICE: And now... Satellite of Love Entertainment in association with
Deep 13 Research Labs is proud to present... our own funny
ending to "Star Trek:TNG, Episode 666"! We think it would go a
little something... like *this*!
[Mike and the bots appear from behind the control panel. They are all
wearing Star Trek:The Next Generation-ish uniforms. Mike is bald with a gray
hair fringe. He looks like Jack Perkins except without the glasses and the
beard.]
MIKE: All right, crew, listen up! We've put the first officer into intensive
care, insulted the chief engineer, harassed the chief medical officer,
rammed a starbase, invaded the Neutral Zone, killed the ready room
fish and vaporized a few promising young ensigns... but somehow, it's
just not enough! What *else* can we do to make ourselves look like
complete and total morons?
CROW: I know! Let's run the ship into a star!
MIKE: Hmm... I like it! *Brilliant* idea! Now which star will it be?
TOM SERVO: I say we aim for Jim Carrey!
CROW: How about Kevin Bacon?
MIKE: Here's what we'll do! We'll run the ship at Warp 18.2093450284357,
straight into Roseanne!
TOM SERVO [Scottish accent]: If ye'll pardon me sayin' so, Captain sahr, if
our warp engines survive the strain, which is
doubtful, we'll not be able to withstand the
gravitational force of a Rosanne-sized mass for
long!
MIKE: Listen, you washed up excuse for a character actor! *I* give the
orders on this ship, and I won't tolerate you questioning them! *I'm*
the captain of this vessel! *I'm* responsible for the lives of 1,038
crewmen! [Mike picks up a phaser and fires it towards a point
offscreen. A scream is heard from offcamera.] Make that 1,037!
[Fires phaser again, and another scream is heard] 1,036! [Fires
again, another scream] 1,035!!! Ah hah hah hah hah hah hah hah
haaaaaaaaah!!! [Mike pulls out a knife and chops three pieces out of
the panel in front of him with the knife] There! That oughta keep me
in the running for first place in the Expendable Ensign Hunt! Sure
beats a holodeck any day!
CROW: Captain, I'm glad to see you feeling so calm today! Usually you would
have started the autodestruct sequence by now!
MIKE: What makes you think that I haven't?
CROW: Umm... you haven't entered the codes and stuff?
MIKE: Oh, I got rid of all that stuff *days* ago! All those safeguards just
kept getting in the way... now it's all just hooked up to a toggle
switch underneath my control panel! Let me tell you, this is great
for keeping the crew on their toes... watch this! Computer! Display
the time left until autodestruct on all terminals, and then seal off
all routes to the escape pods! [The crew page signal is heard, and
then Mike's voice comes over the speakers] All hands, this is your
captain speaking! You're all gonna die! Do you hear me?! Die die die
die die!!! Ah hah hah hah hah hah hah haaaaaaaaaaaaah!!! [Mike ends
the page] Oh, I wish I could see the looks on their faces! Computer!
Cancel autodestruct after sixty seconds!
MAGIC VOICE [valley girl voice]: Okay, just, like gimme a second, okay? I'm
still, like, working on the first thing you
said, I got all this stuff I gotta do, and
I can't, like, handle all this pressure,
okay?
[Mike holds his phaser at the ready]
MIKE: Hey... anybody wanna buy a turbolift pass?
[Crow and Tom Servo start backing away slowly]
MIKE: Ah, screw it then! I'll just go look for some more ensigns. They die,
and we all move up in rank! Uh... well, maybe not. But I can still go
down to sickbay and mutilate myself some more! That's good for a
laugh! Or... wait a minute! Hey, computer! Location of Number One?
MAGIC VOICE [valley girl voice]: Um... isn't that, like, usually in the
lavatory?
MIKE: Very funny, computer! Now tell me where Commander Riker is before I
go down to your memory banks with a very large axe and give you a
reprogramming you'll never forget!
(Die hard Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fans would get that last joke.)
MAGIC VOICE [valley girl voice]: Okay, wait, don't tell me... I, like, know
this one, I rilly rilly know this one!
Just, like, hold on a minute...
MIKE: Oh, forget it! I'll just have to pick another fight! [Mike turns to
Tom Servo] Hey, Fishbowl Face! Why don't you go back to spitting out
gumballs for nickels in the mall, you pompous little hovering
fireplug?!
TOM SERVO: All right, that's it, you withered old windbag! Come on! You and
me! Manos a Manos!
MIKE: Aha! You fool! [Mike picks up Crow. Crow yells in surprise.] I have
a weapon! [Mike wields Crow like a club, slamming him down on Tom
Servo over and over again. Screams of deep hurting come from both
Crow and Tom as the Classic Star Trek Fight Theme plays in the
background.]
[Suddenly Gypsy comes in wearing a Next Generation uniform. She also has an
Uhura-style earphone attached where her ear might be.]
GYPSY: Incoming transmission!
[The hexfield light begins to flash]
[Mike stops beating Tom with Crow. He drops Crow to the floor while Tom and
Crow moan in pain. Mike straightens his jumpsuit.]
MIKE: Onscreen!
[The hexfield opens to reveal the interior of a Borg ship. Many Borg units
stand in niches along the vast corridors and catwalks of the ship, and they
all speak in unison.]
BORG: Michael J. Nelson, prisoner being held aboard the Satellite of Love,
registry number Deep 13-666, you will prepare yourself to be
transported aboard our ship and to be assimilated into the Borg
Collective. If you do not comply with these orders immediately...
MIKE: Withdraw or I'll kick your butt!
[Gypsy gasps in horror]
BORG: (pauses, then in a frightened voice) Oh my gosh, we're so sorry, we
didn't think you'd react this way, we'll just be leaving now...
[The hexfield closes]
GYPSY: Uh... Mike?
MIKE: Oh, that was great! Let's see, what else can we do...
GYPSY: Mike?
MIKE: We could go destroy the Romulan homeworld! We've only got one ship,
but I don't see that as a problem...
GYPSY [insistently]: Mike...
MIKE: That's *Captain* Mike, fool! And don't *ever* interrupt me while I'm
giving orders again, or you'll soon find yourself disassembled and...
[Gypsy leans close to Mike's ear]
GYPSY: MIKE!!!
MIKE: Ow! Gypsy, quit breaking character! I was just getting to the big
finish where Starfleet boards the ship to take me away for
court-martial, and I pick them off one by one and...
GYPSY: Mike, this is important!
MIKE: (sigh) Well, I guess the mood's broken now. Anyway, I've really gotta
hand it to you, Gypsy... that was a great effect with the hexfield!
I mean, we were going to bring out the Borg mannequin we put together
for that scene, but that simulated transmission was perfect!
GYPSY: That's what I've been trying to tell you, Mike! That was no
simulation!
MIKE: Huh? You mean... you didn't...
GYPSY: Uh-huh.
MIKE: So you're saying that was... *really*... the...
GYPSY: Uh-huh.
MIKE: And I *really*... told... the *BORG*... to...?
GYPSY: Uh-huh.
[Mike stares at the camera in shocked silence for a moment]
MIKE: Ohhhhhhhhhhh... [Mike falls over backwards in a faint]
GYPSY: Hm. Didn't think he'd take it so hard...
[The Mads light flashes]
GYPSY: Mike? *MIKE*! The Mads are calling!
[Gypsy leans over and hits the Mads button]
[Deep 13]
[Dr. Forrester is typing at a computer screen, with Frank looking over his
shoulder]
DR. F: Ah! Welcome back, stranded castaways! I was just sending some
comments about today's experiment off to K...@juno.com! Personally, I
thought the absence of an obnoxious kid like Wesley or Marrissa really
weakened the story's full effect, and the narrative was *far* too
coherent for my taste! But, I must say, our bright young rookie Ryan
Landek *does* show promise! Oh, he's no Stephen Ratliff, I know, but
with the proper training, who knows what kind of evil he could be
capable of? Why, look at what just a few weeks of on-the-job training
did for a certain fry cook that I'm rather fond of! [Frank smiles,
nods his head and gives the thumbs up sign] If I play my cards right,
I just might be able to coax a sequel out of our precious young
prodigy!
[SOL]
[Mike, Crow and Tom Servo have picked themselves up from the floor. Crow and
Tom have dents, cracks and scrapes all over their bodies from the fight
scene. Everyone looks horrified at what Dr. Forrester has said.]
CROW & TOM: SEQUEL?! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
MIKE: Calm down, guys, I'll handle this... [Mike fixes the camera with a
baleful stare] Withdraw or I'll kick your butt.
[Deep 13]
[The Mads look terrified]
FRANK: Oh my God! Dr. F, I think he means it! We've pushed him too far
this time!!!
DR. F: Let's get outta here, Frank! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!
FRANK & DR. F: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
[They both run in panic all around Deep 13, screaming in fear and crashing
into each other]
DR. F: Quick, Frank, push the button! Don't let him get us!!!
[Frank pushes the button as he runs past the console, still in a blind panic]
[Screen shrinks to a dot]
DR. F [voiceover]: Hey... wait a minute!
[Closing credits]
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and
situations are trademarks of and (c) 1996 by Best Brains,
Inc. All rights reserved.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment
purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or
trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be
inferred.
Thanks go out to:
RYAN M. LANDEK, for giving such a prime MSTing opportunity to all the MST3K
fans who go sorting through alt.startrek.creative for
material.
STEPHEN B. RATLIFF, who gives all of us r.a.t.m.m. MSTies something to look
forward to.
LIME...@GNN.COM, for taking the time to give a detailed critique of a
previous MSTing of mine, and for doing such a great job of
MSTing a story that I passed along.
BEST BRAINS, INC., for hosting an amazing convention this year, even if the
spelling of the title got a little confused. And, of
course, for making the best show on TV.
And a tearful farewell to...
JULIE WALKER
(Seems like another Best Brains employee leaves every time I write another
MSTing. I hope that's just coincidence...)
>(Picard reaches in the fish tank and graps the fish and throws it on
>the table.
> He starts giving it mouth to mouth.)