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[MiSTied] "Mourning" Complete

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rcoa...@daniel.drew.edu

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May 9, 1995, 3:00:00 AM5/9/95

Okay, kiddies. This MiSTing ties into the idea of Dr. Forrester
getting Mr. B Natural as his new assistant, as well as an idea I
had when I first heard about Frank leaving. Enjoy.

<SoL>

TOM: Supergirl!

CROW: A-Ko!

TOM: Supergirl!

CROW: A-Ko!

MIKE <To Cambot>: Hello, everyone. I'm Mike Nelson and
welcome to the Satellite of Love. Tom Servo and Crow
are having a little argument over who could win in a
fight, D.C. Comics' Supergirl, or _Project: A-Ko_'s A-Ko.

TOM: Pre-Crisis, Post-Crisis, even in the Negative Zone
Supergirl.

CROW: Even fighting the entire Alien horde and B-Ko with
her free hand, A-Ko.

MIKE: Sad, isn't it Gypsy?

GYPSY: I'll say. Everyone knows Lum could beat
them both without breaking a sweat.

MAGIC VOICE: Commercial sign in fifteen seconds.

TOM: You think...

CROW: ...that tiger-striped....

TOM: ...horn-headed...

CROW: ...electro-shocking...

TOM: ...alien...

'BOTS: COULD BEAT SUPERGIRL/A-KO?!?!?

GYPSY: Mike, help!

<'Bots stalk menacingly towards Gypsy and Mike>

MAGIC VOICE: Commercial sign in five, four, three, two...
Commercial sign now.

MIKE: We'll be right back...

<'Bots continue stalking>

MIKE: ...I hope.

<Commercials. That stressed out kid in the Sheik condom ad gets
his butt kicked by Dennis Leary for ripping of his act>

<SOL>

MIKE: ...So, you see, guys, whether one fictional character
could take another in a fight is really only a matter of
opinion. Examples of how such opinions can rage
out of control include the Iron Man vs. the X-Men
war in the Wizard letters page a few years back, as well
as the Spider-Man vs. the X-Men thread in
rec.arts.comics.xbooks.

TOM: I see now, Mike. We are each entitled to our own opinion
about which American graphic novel character could take
a Japanese animated film character in a fight.

CROW: Tom and I can agree to disagree on the various strength
level and fighting prowess of the Knight Sabers as
compared to the New Titans, or Vampire Hunter D vs.
Blade the Vampire Hunter

MIKE: Now you guys are catching on. I feel I've really
accomplished something in adding to your guys programming.

MIKE: Hold up, guys. Kei and Yuri are calling.

TOM: It's perfectly obvious Kei and Yuri could take the Black
Widow and Elektra in a fight.

CROW: LIAR!!!!

<Dr. Forrester is by himself. Mr. B Natural is nowhere to be
seen.>

DR. F: Hello, Mike. Needless to say, it's a real displeasure
to see you again.

<SOL>

TOM: Hey, where's your new assistant: Mr. B Natural?

DR. F: Well, "B" had to...um...well, let's just say "he"
is fulfilling more of a purpose now that "he" ever
could have before. You, see, boobies...

DR. F: Um, excuse me.

<Dr. F answers the door. A thin, blonde haired man on a mountain
bike enters. He gets off the bike and blows a snot rocket onto
the floor, much to Dr. F's distaste. We see that the man is
former "Real World"-er David "Puck" Rainey.>

DR. F: Um, may I help you, Mister...
<checks the nametag, but all it says is "Puck.">

PUCK: I'm Puck, and are you Dr. Clayton Forrester?

DR. F: That should be perfectly obvious!

PUCK: Okay. Anyway, I'm here from Sidekicks R Us to take back
Mr. B Natural.

<Dr. F sweats a little at this>

DR. F: Oh, really? Well, look...Puck...

<SOL>

CROW: Wow! Former "Real World"-er David "Puck" Rainey!
<shouting> The show went down the commode after you left, dude!

MIKE: Shush, Crow. I want to see what Dr. Forrester did
with Mr. B Natural.

TOM: I wonder if he'll send us his autograph!
I have both articles from Entertainment Weekly and People
about him!

PUCK: Say, nice digs, Dr. F!

DR. F: Thank you... Puck.

PUCK: Yeah. It's a lot like this place I used to live in, even
with a camera to say witty things to. Anyway, where's
Mr. B? I gotta have him...her...either...back soon.

DR. F: Well, until s/he turns up, would you like something to
eat and help me with my invention?

PUCK: Well...sure.

<Dr. F hands Puck a bucket filled with some greenish substance.
On the bucket are the words "Soylent Green.">

PUCK: Hey! Soylent Green! <takes a spoon and starts munching>
Delicious! Hey, I think it's awakening the music inside
me! <starts to hum and bogart the Soylent Green>

<SOL>

MIKE: No...he didn't...

TOM: He couldn't have really...

CROW: I'll admit it will save the world from the threat of having
the music within awakened.

MIKE: Crow, there's a limit to saving the world. If we use the
methods of the enemy, we become the enemy.

TOM: But Mike, Dr. Forrester *is* evil.

MIKE: Oh...well I guess that's alright then.

PUCK: Yummy! Except for the parts that taste like they
were taken from a Peter Pan costume.

DR. F: Munch away, Puck! I'm sure Mr. B Natural would want
it that way. <to camera> Anyway, start with
your invention exchange, Henry Harrison.

<SOL>

MIKE: Uh, okay. Has it ever bothered you about continuity
errors in your favorite series, be it in a comic or
sci-fi television series?
TOM: Like does Sam Beckett's mind or body leap through time?
CROW: Or does Al see Sam as Sam, or as the leapee?
MIKE: Well, that problem can be solved with the Canon Cannon.
You just type the continuity error into your computer, and
the Canon Cannon will shoot out the proper continuity
answer.
TOM: What should we ask it?
MIKE: How about the question puzzling Rogue fans for a while.
What was the name of the boy who Rogue first kissed,
resulting in the realization of her mutant powers?
<Types it in. The Canon Cannon vibrates, whistles, pops, smokes,
and then melts into a slag heap.>
CROW: Hmmm. I knew we should have asked something simpler.
TOM: Well, choosing between Claremont, Nocenti, and Lobdell
can put a major stress on anyone's circuits.
MIKE: Down to you, sir.

DR. F: Well, I also have invented the Canon Cannon, one that
won't overload at it's first question. In fact, this one
doesn't even answer stupid fanboy questions.

DR. F: Oh, dear. Puck, could you please check the barrel?

PUCK: Okay, Dr. F.

DR. F: Please don't call me that.

PUCK: Hey, what's this? There are two guys jammed in here.
They look mad! <down barrel> Hello there! I'm David
"Puck" Rainey! _Rolling Stone_ readers voted me their
favorite member of the "Real World!" I also guest host
"Alternative Nation" from time to time. Plus, I've seen
Daisy Fuentes naked! She was naked, too!

DR. F: Well, to satisfy the fans of various popular sci-fi and
other series, this device will help smooth out continuity
errors. How? By shooting those who would dare mess with
perfection with their own warped creativity into the
stratosphere!

PUCK <looking in barrel>: Cool! It's Brian Daley and James
Luceno, both halves of Robotech scribe Jack McKinney!
Settle down, guys. By the way, which one of you had
the bright idea of turning Minmei into a slut? I loved
her when I was a young Puck, at least as much as a young
boy could love an Anime female . I did not appreciate her
getting it on with T.R. Edwards in the least! I won't even
start with her romance with her second cousin!

MUFFLED VOICE #1: It was his idea!

MUFFLED VOICE #2: Don't lie! It was your's!

DR. F: Get out of the way, Puck.

PUCK: Bitchin'!

DR. F: Very much so, my young friend. See? Continuity problem
solved. Now, to get Bob Harris and Howard Mackie in there.
With the support of the X-Men dino fan community, I will
rule all! <laughs evilly>

<Puck looks up at a shaft of light.>

PUCK: Wow! I think they went all the way through Deep 1!

DR. F: That's Deep 13 for you. Puck. Using evil to make the
world a better place.

PUCK: That's great, Dr. Forrester, but I do need to know where
Mr. B Natural is...

<Dr. Forrester holds up a new bucket of Soylent Green.>

DR. F: Well, you can look for her/him after you've gotten some
food in you.

PUCK: Hooray! <Shouting up the gap in the ceiling>
Maybe next time you won't make my favorite characters sluts!
<Starts to munch on Soylent Green and hum a tune.>

<Dr. Forrester turns to the camera>

DR. F: Anyway boobies, _Make Room, Make Room_ for
"Mourning" a little piece of emotion tapping fanfiction
from alt.startrek.creative. I hope it hurts!
Send them the fanfic, Puck.

PUCK: Why?

DR. F <irritated>: Because I'll arrange for you to be the
permanent host on "Alternative Nation."

PUCK: Okay!

<SOL>

<Mike, Tom, and Crow are trying to fix the Canon Cannon>

MIKE: Maybe we should have asked it about Nightcrawler's dad.

TOM: Or maybe the plausibility of Cody/Cory/Freddie being in a
coma for ten years and Rogue not mentioning it to anyone.

<Lights, buzzers>

ALL: Ahhhh! We've got...

ALL <subdued>: Fanfic...sign?

TOM: What's going on?

MIKE: Gah?!? What is this? Cambot, give me Rocket #9!

<SOL. The shaking has stopped>

MIKE: Hey! That's the same grid Q used to trap the Enterprise
in "Encounter at Farpoint!"

MIKE: Sorry.

<It's all right. Let's get things moving.>

TOM: Something's coming in on the Hexfield!

TOM: Wow! It's Q!

Q: That's right, my gumball-machine friend. And I'm
here to talk to you and your golden-beaked pal
about a few posts of yours I've been seeing
lately on the Star Trek newsgroups.

CROW: Who, us?

TOM: Why, we don't even like Star Trek.

Q: Tut, tut. Lying to an omnipotent being. I don't
suppose all those posts about me not showing up
on "Voyager" or only bothering Picard so much
because I'm secretly in love with him were posted by
"Happy Temps" here, hmmmm?

TOM <to Crow>: Let's use assumed names, you said!
No one will know it's us, you said!

CROW: Oh, bite me!

GYPSY: Hey! I thought you were supposed to hanging out
with MacGuyver in a Brisco County, Jr. ripoff.

Q: This is true, but I actually came because you wrote such nice
things about me in the Star Trek newsgroup as well.

GYPSY: Well, thanks! I always did like that Robin Hood episode.

MIKE: I thought you guys didn't like Star Trek.

CROW: Actually, we just used your account, Trekkie boy!

Q: Yes, but there's no fooling me! To properly punish Tom Servo
and Crow T. Robot, as well as reward Gypsy, I will grant
Gypsy her second fondest wish, thus causing all sorts of
problems! Ha!

GYPSY: Hey, how come only my second fondest wish?

Q: Because Richard Baseheart wasn't available!

GYPSY: Oh! Well, that's okay then. Lay it on me!

GYPSY <looking at her hands>: Wow! Fingers!
Now I can turn the pages in my Richard
Baseheart biographies!

Q: Gypsy's wish to become human is now true! Guess that goes to
show you I'm not just a "master illusionist!" What do you
think?

GYPSY: Isn't this wonderful? Well, not as
wonderful has Richard Baseheart being
here, but it's close. I gotta find a mirror!
<Rushes off>

Q: See ya! <snaps fingers and vanishes>

ALL: Ahhh! We've got fanfic sign!!!!!

<Mike and 'Bots enter theater>
MIKE: Wow.
TOM: I'll say.

>Subject: REPOST: MOURNING 1/5

CROW: Does this mean we only have to read one-fifth of the
story?
MIKE: No.

>From: A.Ma...@mail.utexas.edu (Allison M. Martens)
>Date: 27 Mar 1995 19:53:17 GMT

CROW: GMT- We bring bad fanfics to life.

>.Message-ID:
>A.Martens-270...@slip-24-10.ots.utexas.edu>

TOM: A Martens? Wasn't he on L.A. Law?
CROW: That's A Martinez, I think.

>Back by popular demand!

MIKE: ...namely my own.

> Enjoy!!
>Part 1

>MOURNING by Allison Martens

>PARAMOUNT OWNS EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY,
>HOWEVER
>THE STORY BELONGS TO ME.

MIKE: YOU DON"T HAVE TO SHOUT!

> THIS IS FAN FICTION, AND IS PRODUCED SOLELY
>FOR MY AMUSEMENT,

TOM: NOTHING'S FUNNY ABOUT HEARING DAMAGE!
CROW: NEARING CARNAGE?
TOM: NO, HEARING DAMAGE!
CROW: FREEZING SANDWICH?

> AND YOURS. IT IS NOT TO BE REPRODUCED FOR
>COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.

MIKE: WE GET THE POINT! LOWER YOUR VOICE!
CROW: SLOWER MY TOYS?

>FEEL FREE TO PASS THIS STORY ALONG TO YOUR
>FRIENDS, BUT PLEASE DO NOT SEPARATE IT FROM MY NAME AND THIS
>MESSAGE.

TOM: OR WHAT? YOU'LL SCREAM IN MY EAR?
CROW: TOM! YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK BEER!

>Chapter 1

MIKE: Glad that's over.
TOM: THX: The Audience is now deaf.
CROW: What was that? Do I brush with Crest?

> The Enterprise was in orbit high above the moon, Cyrus 7.

TOM: Oh, no! Billy Ray Cyrus the Seventh!

>Cyrus 7 lay just beyond
>the border of the Neutral Zone in Federation territory. The
>Enterprise had come to
>investigate a sensor report of a crash of a Romulan escape pod
>on the surface.

MIKE: The escape pod contained characters trying to escape
another fanfic featuring "good guy" Romulans.

>The moon's atmosphere was highly unstable,

CROW: The sensors picked up that the planet was made of
Jolt cola and pure, uncut chocolate.

>and wreaked havoc with the ship's systems.
>The away team of Riker, Worf, and Crusher had experienced a
>rough ride while
>transporting, and would require the aid of enhancing rods

>to get back.

MIKE: To the year 1985.

>The combination of atmospheric interference and an unknown
>number of Romulans waiting on the surface, made everyone
> tense about this particular mission.

CROW: Why didn't they just bring a nameless ensign? That always
put Kirk's mind at ease.

> The away team approached the pod, which had crashed in a
>mountainous region.

MIKE <singing>: Rocky mountain hiiiiiiiiigh.

>It had settled precariously close to

TOM: Indian territory!

>an almost sheer cliff-side.

CROW: I love Cliff-side notes. I never would have
understood _MacBeth_ without them.

>No Romulans were immediately visible.

MIKE <covering his eyes> 8, 9, 10. Olly olly oxen free!

>Then suddenly there was a hail of phaser fire from a single
>survivor.

TOM: Right. A "hail" of fire from *one* phaser?
CROW: You're my only chance off this moon alive! Die!

>The doctor was winged by a shot, and thrown backwards.

MIKE: Since when can a phaser shot "wing" you?

>Her momentum
>carried her over the edge.

CROW: Can't...stand it....
Being...in...fanfic....driving...me...insane...

> Beverly's fingers dug into the splintering rock, as her legs
>dangled over the chasm.

CROW: Ah-ha! There's no way she'd be able to do this if she
wasn't a replicant! The proof is here!
TOM: But, Crow, mountain climbers do it all the time!
CROW: Yes, but most mountain climbers haven't had their fingers
broken by Rutger Hauer and are in the middle of a violent
rainstorm wearing a soggy trenchcoat! And what about
the unicorn dream?
MIKE: Chill, guys.

>"Help, Will, Worf please, help," she screamed.

ALL <bored voices>: Oh, dear god. She's gonna die.

>She looked down and resigned herself

MIKE: Does this mean Dr. Pulaski will come back?
<Bots stare at Mike> Oh, no...
'BOTS <like basketball fans shouting "Air Ball!">: Faaaaan Boy!
Faaaaan Boy!

>to this death, when suddenly Will Riker's hand clasped her
>wrist.

CROW: Say, this *is* like "Bladerunner."
TOM: Is it "shoulders or Orion" or "shores of Orion?"

>Having dove down
>onto the cliff-side, and grasping a thin protruding root,

CROW: He's used to that.
MIKE: Watch it, Crow.

>he was attempting to pull her
>up, but he could find no way to balance himself.

TOM: ...Between fish or cut-bait.

>The rock continued to crumble.
>They both knew there were only a few moments left before they
>plunged into oblivion.

CROW: Enough time for a quick drink.

> Worf had finally managed to subdue the renegade,

MIKE: By making him watch Spider-Man...
TOM: That's not so bad.
MIKE: ...with Nick Hammond.
TOM: ACK!!

>as he grasped his phaser,

ALL: Ewwwww!

>he set it to maximum stun and fired.

CROW: Let's see. Worf rolls an 87...check the table...hit!
MIKE: Hmm, Romulan rolls Good Endurance against
Remarkable Stunning... oh, he's out cold for ten turns!

>He whirled around and headed down the cliff-side

TOM <Worf>: AIIIGH!
MIKE: Whoops! Worf forgot it's a *sheer* cliff-side.

>to his fellow officers. "This is Lt. Worf, Enterprise
>requesting emergency beam-out, *now*."

CROW <Riker>: You're supposed to tap your communicator first,
crater-face!
TOM: Wait, how can a *ship* request a beam-out?

> Worf need not have asked for the beam-out,

ALL: THEN WHY DID HE?

>because the captain had already demanded it several times.

MIKE <Picard>: Beam me off the ship, into the cold vacuum
of space, and out of this fanfic!

> "Sir," Data stated calmly, "it is still not possible to
>establish a pattern

TOM: Nothing seems to go with those drapes!
MIKE: And that couch! Where did you get it, a garage sale?

> lock without the aid of the enhancing rods.

<Tom and Mike look, at Crow again, who looks back>
CROW: What? What is it?
TOM: You sure your hearing is okay?

>The atmospheric interference is simply too high.

MIKE: This wouldn't happen if they had cable!

> I will continue to run variations in hopes of finding ...."

TOM: ...a way to give "Voyager" some direction and meaning!

>but the captain was no longer listening.

CROW: Why is he so lucky?

> Jean-Luc Picard could focus on only one thing,

MIKE: How to get the Hair Club for Men to leave him alone!

> and that was the sound of Beverly's desperate pleas for
>help.

CROW <falsetto>: "Help! Trekkies everywhere!"

> The bridge had
>been monitoring their communicator transmissions since they had
>beamed down to the surface,

TOM: Hmmph. So much for atmospheric interference!
MIKE: Actually, they were hoping to hear one of Will's calls to
1-900-BEAM-ME-UP.

>but no one had expected this drama to unfold.

MIKE: No one ever expects something exciting to happen in a
fanfic!
CROW: Something exciting is happening? Where?

>Picard paced furiously

TOM: Finkle and Einhorn. Einhorn and Finkle. Hmmm.

>demanding options,

MIKE <Picard>: I want a CD player! Disk brakes! Shoulder straps
in the back seat! Climate control!

> no suggestions were forthcoming.

CROW: Again, proving the high quality of Starfleet Academy
graduates this year.

> "Commander reach out your hand. I can not afford to get any
>closer,

TOM: I'm not ready for a relationship at this time in my life.

>the ledge is already buckling,

MIKE: That's smart. Sometimes air bags aren't enough.

> and that root won't hold."
> "Worf, I can't move or it'll give. I just need a better grip
>on her.

TOM: Sayyyy...

> Hang on Beverly,

CROW <Worf>: Won't that just add extra weight?

>we're going to make it. Reach up with your other hand." Will
>Riker had never felt fear like this.

MIKE: Not even when Deanna's test was blue?

>He did not fear for his own life,

TOM: Since it meant so little to him.
CROW: And everyone else.

> but rather the life
>of his friend. He knew
>their weight together was too great.

CROW: Yeah! Riker's going to wind up like Orson Wells if he
doesn't cut down on the replicated chocolate bars!

> He knew also that it would be only moments
>before the root was pulled loose, but he still had to try, try
>and keep Beverly alive, even if it cost him his life.

TOM: Sorry, your life won't cover it. But we have a great
lay-away plan.

> "Commander you must pull her up now," Worf shouted.
> "Will, we aren't going to make it. Let go or we'll both
>die." Beverly didn't want to say what she was saying,

MIKE: But the characters can't control the author.

>but she was not going to let a friend die for what now
>seemed to be a lost cause.

MIKE: Yanni's album going platinum?
TOM: Vanilla Ice's comeback?
CROW: Getting tickets to see Green Day?

>"Will, please let go!"

CROW <Kurt Russell>: You go...we go!

> "Never, we are going to make it,

TOM: Um, that should read "We are never going to make it."

>reach up, damn it, reach up."
> "Sir it's coming loose."

MIKE: Then eat bananas and apple sauce.

> "Will, no, I won't let you do this." Beverly looked up at her
>desperate friend,

CROW: Wasn't that a movie with Kristy Swanson?

> and in that moment felt an incredible sense of courage.

TOM: No, it's just her hand going numb.

> Courage that flowed from her love and respect
>for this man. "This is not your fault. Remember that."

MIKE <Bogart>: The problems of a couple of second-rate
sci-fi characters don't amount to a hill of dilithium
crystals in this crazy universe.

>And with those
>words Beverly Crusher forced herself loose from Riker's grip.

CROW <falsetto>: I'm free! I'm....What...am I...doing?

>She seemed to hang
>there a moment as she looked into his widening eyes,

TOM: Cool! Anime-style Will Riker!

>and then she was gone.

MIKE: Now, who gets dibs on her room?

> "No, No, damn it, noooo. Beverly .... "

CROW <bored>: Dear god in heaven.
TOM <ditto>: Oh, the humanity.
MIKE <ditto>: Such raw pain. It's too much to bear.

> Riker watched in
>absolute horror

TOM: Not another vodka ad!

> as the
>doctor plunged downward into the chasm. He listened to her
>scream fade away,

MIKE <falsetto>: The key to the medicine cabinet's in the....

>as her body passed through a layer of clouds and then
>disappeared, forever.

CROW: Well, at least it was short.
<Tries to leave, but Mike stops him>

> Worf grabbed his commanding officer and pulled him to safety
>as the root finally broke free,

TOM: Root 24601 has escaped!
CROW: I am not a number! I am a free plant!

>causing a hail of rocks to follow the doctor's
>descent. He then let out a
>terrible howl of rage.

ALL <bored voices>: Arrrrggggh.

>Chapter 2

> Aboard the Enterprise there was silence.

MIKE: Welcome aboard, Silence. I don't suppose you have any
medical training? We're sort of one short on our medical
staff.

>As the last sound of Worf's cry was
>broadcast on the bridge, Counselor Troi felt her knees buckle

TOM: She wears buckles on her knees?
CROW: It's a Betazoid-centric thing.

> as she collapsed into
>her chair. Geordi raced down from his duty station

TOM: All the way from engineering?

> and knelt beside her.

CROW <Geordi>: Will you marry me?
TOM <Riker>: What? Geordi, I'm flattered, but...
CROW <Geordi>: Not you, Will.

>He placed his own trembling hand on Deanna's shoulder.

MIKE: Check it out. Gentle pressure.

>Data looked down at his console,
>and, without looking up, he stated simply, "sir, Dr. Crusher's
>communicator is no
>longer being detected by ship's sensors,

TOM: It might have something to do with that
*atmospheric interference* the author's forgotten about.

> she is ... lost sir."

CROW: So are the commas!

>The captain said nothing
>in response. He stood perfectly straight, betraying no feelings
>of anguish or distress
>to his crew. He ordered that his away team return with the
>renegade to the beam-out
>point, and that they be beamed directly to sick bay.

TOM: But what about the ATMOSPHERIC...
<Mike puts a hand on Tom, who calms down.>

> He dispatched a security team
>to that location, and then finally he turned and faced his crew.
>"I realize that we are all operating in a state of shock,

CROW: As opposed to the normal state of confusion..

>but we must remember that we
>have a ship to run.

MIKE: C'mon. That ship practically runs itself!

>Counselor your with me.

CROW: Deanna's *what* is with him?

> Mr. Data you have the bridge."

TOM: Just make sure you have it back by midnight.

>Picard marched towards the
>turbolift. Geordi helped Deanna to her feet, and he would have
>said something if he
>hadn't been too overwhelmed to speak himself.

MIKE: Just write "Techno Babble," like the show's writers do.

> Picard strode into sickbay, his controlled rage masking his
>intense grief.

TOM: Oh, he's doing his Courtney Love impression.

> The counselor followed, looking at that moment as though she
>could use some
>medical services herself.

CROW: Why doesn't she ask Beverly for some...oh, silly me.

>Will Riker lay still on a biobed, clearly in shock.

MIKE: They can tell the difference?

> Worf and his
>security team, meanwhile, had tightly encircled the Romulan and

MIKE: ...were playing "keep-away" with his phaser.
TOM <whiny voice>: Give it back! Give it back!

>the personnel attending him.

CROW: All the circles of people. Wasn't this a scene in
"Sledgehammer?"
TOM <Sledge Hammer>: "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."
MIKE: I think he meant the Peter Gabriel video.

>The prisoner was now conscious, but maintaining a
>stony silence.

TOM: As opposed to gravelly griping.
CROW: Or rockily rambling.
TOM: Or...
<Mike puts a quick stop to this.>

>"What the hell were you doing in Federation space?" Picard
>demanded. The
>Romulan gave no answer.

MIKE: Since he didn't have the Universal Translator, and had
no clue what Picard was saying.

>"Dr. Selar is the prisoner

CROW: How'd they know his name, or that he was a doctor?
TOM: Worf checked his underwear.
CROW: The Romulan's name was written on Worf's underwear?
MIKE: Most actors write their lines on their hands.

>well enough to be released from sick bay?"

MIKE <doctor>: I guess, but no alcohol or aspirin for at least
48 hours.

> "Yes," answered the Vulcan physician, and now Enterprise CMO,

TOM: Clumsy Migrating Orioles?
MIKE: Crushed My Oreos?
CROW: Cool, Mission's Over?

>"but it would not be advisable at this time."

> Picard brushed her off

MIKE <Selar>: But, Jean-Luc, all the things you said. You
told me you loved me!
CROW <Ash>: That's what we call "pillow-talk," baby.

>and turned to his security team. "Mr. Worf,

MIKE <Worf>: I'm on the security team.
TOM <Billy Crystal>: You *are* the security team.

>I want our
>*guest* thrown in the brig, and don't worry about showing any
>courtesies."

TOM: Oh, so he'll be staying at Starfleet's Ramada Inn.

> "Aye sir, with pleasure."

CROW: Not that joke about Sammy Davis, Jr. again!

>It was taking every ounce of
>strength Worf had not to break this pathetic enemy's neck.

MIKE: Hmm. Romulans must have strong necks!

> Picard moved to Will's bedside,

TOM <Riker>: Tell me about the rabbits, Jean-lLuc..

>where Deanna had been attempting to comfort him.

CROW <Deanna>: Poor sweet baby...

> "It is all my fault,

TOM: True, very true.

>I wasn't strong enough or fast enough,"

CROW: I'd say something here, but it's just too easy.

>stammered the
>commander. "Why, oh god why, did she let go?"

MIKE <Riker>: If she dragged me down with her, I wouldn't
be in this fanfic right now.

> Through her tears Deanna reassured him that it was not his
>fault, that Beverly had
>let go to spare him, knowing that there was no hope for her,

TOM: Beverly, or Deanna?
MIKE: If she ever gets back together with Will, Deanna!

>or for him if she hung on.
> "She is right Number One.

TOM: So, Deanna has been promoted to being the new Number One?
CROW: I thought Number One was really Number Six.
MIKE: *There is no Number Six*!!!

> We all heard what happened,

TOM: Even through the atmospheric interference.

>Beverly chose to let go.
>You did as much as anyone could have done to save her."

CROW: Suuure.

>Why was it that the captain did not sound entirely sincere?

MIKE <Director's voice>: Cut, cut! Patrick, I know this whole
Christmas Carol thing eats up a lot of your time, but you've
got to say focused.

>In fact, there was ice
>in his voice.

CROW: Patrick Stewart as Mr. Freeze!

> He turned to the counselor.

TOM <teenager>: If you know so much about guiding people into
doing productive things with their lives, why are you a
guidance ccouncilor

> "I want the senior staff assembled in the observation lounge
>in twenty minutes."

MIKE <Picard>: Where we will all get drunk and play ping-pong.

>And with that, Picard marched out of sick
>bay just as purposefully as he had marched in.

> "Oh dear," remarked Deanna. "This has affected him more
>deeply than I ever suspected was possible."

TOM: No, he's just an apathic member of Generation X.
CROW: They experience no highs or lows, you know.

>She looked down at Will and tried in
>spite of the tears to smile, but she could not.

MIKE: If I had to do a Disney cartoon with him that was
a rip-off of Batman, I wouldn't smile either.

>So she grasped his hand instead and
>squeezed it as tightly as she could.

ALL: CRRRR-AACK!
CROW: Hmm, those Betazoids have strong grips!

>Chapter 3

TOM: The Final Dimension.
MIKE: Don't you mean "The Sorcerer?"
TOM: Only in Europe.

> Nobody seemed to be able to take their eyes off the empty
>chair at the conference table.

CROW: High tension musical chairs!

>Silence seemed to speak volumes at this moment.

MIKE: It's that Silence guy again! He comes aboard and
can't stop talking.

>The captain entered, and
>without any pleasantries began the meeting.

TOM <Newt Gengrich>: Okay, let's go. Item one, put out a federal
warrant again John-_-Winston. All for?
MIKE & CROW: Aye!
TOM: Okay! <makes gavel sound>. Item two, have Stephen
Ratliff made the head of the Internet Police, tracking
down all spelling and grammar errors.
MIKE & CROW: Aye!
TOM: Okay! <gavel sound> Item three, let's have Q turn Gypsy
back into a robot.
MIKE: Hey!
CROW: Aye!

> "Mr. Worf, I want you to arrange a full
>interrogation of the Romulan. I want to know what the hell he,
>and whomever he was
>with, were doing in our neighborhood.

TOM: Is this Federation Space or South Central L.A.?

>If the Romulans have any designs on this part
>of Federation space then I want to know about it.

MIKE <designer voice>: 'Cause I've tried, and I can't do a
*thing* with it.

> And Mr. Worf," Picard's voice
>hardened, "use any means you deem necessary to
>extract that information. Understood?"

CROW <Picard>: You might want to try shining four lights in his
eyes, and then asking him how many there are.

> "Aye sir," responded the security chief. The venom in
>Picard's voice had shocked even Worf.

TOM: Picard's been possessed by an alien symbiote!

> The Klingon was hungry for revenge,

MIKE: With Kevin Costner and Anthony Quinn.

>but he had never expected encouragement from his captain,

CROW: That would make Picard seem trampy.

>a man who once could not even bring himself to annihilate
>their deadliest enemy, the Borg, because the method of
>booby trapping the Borg prisoner, Hugh, would have been
>'inhumane.'

MIKE: Which led to Lore taking the Borg over and killing a few
hundred innocent men, women, and children, but we...
'BOTS: Faaan Boy! Faaaaan Boy!
MIKE: Oh, shut up.

> The captain turned to Data and La Forge. "Gentlemen, Doctor
>Crusher's body needs to be recovered."

CROW: It's where Agent Logan hid the c-synthesizer!
TOM: How'd you know that? I told you to leave my comics alone!
MIKE: I've always been a little curious as to *how* Logan hid the
c-synthesizer.

> He made this statement without any showing of emotion. A
>stranger observing this scene would never have realized that it
>was this man's *best
>friend* whose body had recently been shattered on the harsh
>moon's surface.

TOM: Gee, that Silence guy is going to get the wrong first
impression from Captain Picard.

> "Sir, I am not sure that will be possible," Data responded.

MIKE <Data>: It will end the story too quickly.
CROW: I don't think *that's* possible.

>"Her communicator was
>apparently destroyed, so ship's sensors cannot trace her, and
>the interference from the atmospheric conditions prevent
>any other type of scan for the doctor's remains.

TOM: Ah, so the author *didn't* forget the atmospheric problems.

>Without any accurate sense of where her remains are located,

CROW: Insert gratuitous Jimmy Hoffa joke here.

>it would be necessary to search the surface on foot,

MIKE: Cool! An old-fashioned nature hike. I'll bring the
chocolate, and you can bring the graham crackers
and marshmallows. S'mores for everyone!

>and as transporting to the surface
>of this moon is dangerous,

TOM <Picard>: Tell me something I *don't* know!
CROW <Data>: I did the nasty with Tasha Yarr.

>it would be inadvisable to dispatch away teams for
>this purpose."

TOM: So I assign Ensign Cannon and Lieutenant Fodder.

> "Data's right," Geordi added, "but I volunteer anyway."

MIKE <Geordi>: I haven't much to do this fanfic, and I thought...

> "No, Mr. La Forge I won't risk any more members of my crew.

TOM <whiny voice>: But I *never* get to go on risky missions!
CROW: Yeah, but *you* got to hang out with *Scotty,* plus you
fall in love with a mysterious female every third episode.

>The safety of my people is my top priority.

CROW: Yeah, you've been *great* at that so far.

> We will make preparations to break
>orbit and head to the
>nearest star base. I am sure Starfleet Command would like to
>meet our prisoner face to face just as soon as possible."

TOM: Starfleet Command only has one face?

> Riker, who had been hanging his head in his hands, looked up
>suddenly. "We
>can't just abandon Beverly like this. I don't care what the
>risks are, we have to get
>her back. I'll beam down and search alone if necessary."

CROW: Wellll, okay.

> "Will no,"

MIKE: Shouldn't that be, "will not," or "will do?"
TOM: Ease up on the grammar flames, Mike.

> said Deanna soothingly. "Captain Picard is right.
>Nobody else's life
>should be risked. That would be the last thing Beverly would
>want."

CROW: No, the last thing Beverly wanted was for Will to let her
go, getting her out of the fanfic.

> Riker said nothing, dropping his head back in his hands.

TOM: I always knew that Riker would lose his head if it wasn't
attached.
CROW: Oh, like that King's Missile song.
TOM: Not exactly...but close.

> An intolerably painful silence followed,

MIKE: Hmm, we certainly are learning a lot about this
"Silence" character. He just arrived...
TOM: He speaks volumes...
CROW: And he's intolerably painful...
ALL: He must be a descendant of Puck!

>which was abruptly broken by a harshly
>delivered directive:

CROW: Pull my finger!

>"dismissed." The captain quickly disappeared into the sanctuary
>of his ready room.

TOM: We're dismissed! YAY!

<SOL>

GYPSY: I feel pretty.... Oh, so pretty....

GYPSY <merrily>: Oh, hello, Tom! Hello, Crow!

'BOTS <depressed>: Hi, Gypsy.

GYPSY: Why, guys! You seem so down! The eexperimentisn't
that bad, is it?

TOM: No...

GYPSY: Well, then, why are you two so sad?

CROW: Because Q turned you into a human, that's why!

TOM: Now there's this enormous gulf sseparatingus. Almost
like an....Organic Curtain between us.

GYPSY: Tish-Tosh. I still love you guys, and I'll still be
running the Satellite as usual. Not much will change.
Except of course, I'll need to eat and sleep now. No more
RAM chips for me. I'll also need to breathe, even though
I should really just relax about that part.

TOM: Oh, brother.

GYPSY <rambling>: Oh, and I won't be able to cough stuff
up any more any time you want something. And I refuse
to be treated like a slave! Why don't you clean up after
yourselves once in a while? Crow, you're leaving your
Kim Catrell glossies all over the den. And Tom, all
your Graphic Novels are scattered everywhere! Why don't
you put them in plastic bags and save them in an orderly
fashion.

CROW: We'll be right back.

<Commercials. Watch Exit 57. Why? Hell, I don't know.>

<'Bots and Mike enter the series>
TOM: Mike we have to know more about women so we can
understand Gyspy better, now that she's human.
CROW: You're asking *him* about women?

>Subject: REPOST: MOURNING 2/5
>From: A.Ma...@mail.utexas.edu (Allison M. Martens)

CROW: But for Allison M. Martens, there would be another day.
TOM: Hopefully not another fanfic, though.

>Date: 27 Mar 1995 19:55:07 GMT

TOM: Grand Master Toaster?
MIKE: Good Missionary Tailors?
CROW: Great Mountain-region Tangerines?

>Message-ID:
><A.Martens-270...@slip-24-10.ots.utexas.edu>

TOM <Bugs Bunny>: Your slip is showing'.

>Part 2

>MOURNING by Allison Martens

>PARAMOUNT OWNS EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY,

TOM <Biff Tannen>: I OWN THE POLICE!

>HOWEVER
>THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. THIS IS FAN FICTION, AND IS PRODUCED
>SOLELY
>FOR MY AMUSEMENT, AND YOURS.

CROW: She finds our torment amusing?

>IT IS NOT TO BE REPRODUCED FOR
>COMMERCIAL PURPOSES. FEEL FREE TO PASS THIS STORY ALONG TO
>YOUR
>FRIENDS, BUT PLEASE DO NOT SEPARATE IT FROM MY NAME AND THIS
>MESSAGE.

CROW: Why?
MIKE <Harold Ramis>: It would be bad.

>Chapter 4

> As Deanna worked her way down the corridor of the Enterprise,

TOM: Cleaning the floors, checking the lights...

>she noticed how subdued the people around her were.

CROW: They had to watch Nick Hammond, too!

>Because Beverly was the ship's doctor, she
>had met virtually everyone on board,

MIKE: Proving how accident prone the people on this ship are.

>and had been well liked by
>all. There would be
>much work for the counselor to do in the coming weeks.

MIKE <Falsetto>: Two papers and a final exam. Darn!

> The doors of holodeck three were before her.

TOM: Those are the holodeck doors with the big "3" on them!
Ha, ha, ha!

>Deanna took a deep breath and entered.

MIKE <falsetto>: How is she gonna breathe?
TOM <deep voice>: She isn't.
CROW: Hey! You watched my copy of "The Big Blue" without asking!

> She had walked in on Worf's calisthenics program.

CROW <falsetto>: Oh, excuse me, Worf...you know, you'll go blind
if you keep doing that...
MIKE: CROW!

> She watched as the Klingon
>took apart three Nausicans with his bat'leth.

TOM: Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind.
CROW: I think Bat-less was the original title for Robin's series.

>Ordinarily Deanna would not have the stomach to watch Worf's
>recreational activities,

MIKE: He'd get drunk and yell at the TV.

> but she knew how desperately he needed this release.

CROW: And *she* was just the one to... <Mike glares> Never mind.

>After splitting open the head of the last
>Nausican,

MIKE <last Nausican> Virtual Reality bites!

> Worf looked up and greeted the counselor.

TOM <deep, goofy voice>: Hello there, someone else's Imzadi!

>He wiped clean his weapon

MIKE: With a Holodeck hankie!

>and ordered the
>computer to end the program. "What can I do for you,
>counselor?"
> "Actually Worf, I came here to ask you that very question. I
>know that Beverly's loss has touched you deeply."

CROW <Worf>: Beverly herself used to...
MIKE: You know, I think I know how to get the "special
parts" I need to play Mortal Kombat II with the
fatalities. I think the fact you'll become a drooling
calculator would be a small price to pay for...
CROW <meekly>: I'll be good.

> "A warrior always mourns the loss of a comrade.

TOM: Not more "Klingons as the Russians" analogies!

>And it is
>difficult to mourn properly when one may not suitably avenge a
>fallen sister."

'BOTS: Gypsy!!! <Sob!>
<Mike sighs>

> The tone of his voice betrayed emotions that went far deeper
>than simple anger.

MIKE: But the author doesn't have a thesaurus.

>Deanna knew that Worf had always had a soft spot in his warrior
>heart for Beverly.

CROW: I think that was just a cholesterol build-up.

>She had, after all, saved his life when he had been seriously
>injured,

TOM: And changed the results of the blood-alcohol tests!

> as well as having saved the life of his brother, Kurn.

CROW: Clancy Brown?
MIKE: You're thinking of "The Kurgan."

>Deanna also knew that Worf had been secretly
>amused by the good doctor's many futile attempts to enroll him
>in her acting
>workshop. Only Beverly Crusher would try to get a Klingon to
>play Romeo to her Juliet.

> "Worf, you know that vengeance will not bring her back to
>us."

TOM: Only a time-warp episode will.

> "That is a human sentiment counselor," barked the Klingon.

ALL: WOOF!

>"Dr. Crusher may be forever lost, but her name remains, and it
>must be honored.

CROW <Worf>: Therefore, I have to kill Wesley.
MIKE and TOM: Yay!

>I understand that my
>duties as a Starfleet officer prevent me from wiping clean this
>stain of blood,

TOM: No, it's because the blood isn't real! It was created by the
holodeck!

>but I do not have to like it."

MIKE: NO! You are going to resist your violent urges and
you are going to *like* it!

> "No, I don't suppose you do," Deanna responded. "Listen
>Worf,

TOM: Uh, it's *Lieutenant* Worf. Is "Listen" even a real military
title?

>I only wanted to
>tell you that you and Commander Riker did all that you could to
>save Beverly, and,
>besides, she understood the risks of being in starfleet.

CROW: 'Course, most people beam down to an unknown situation
with an unnamed ensign to take the risk *for* them.

>We all do.

TOM <Sally Struthers>: Do you want to intensely mourn a
second string Star Trek character?
MIKE and CROW: Sure, we all do!

>I know that
>Klingons deal with grief in their own way, and I am inclined to
>leave you alone to do just that.

ALL: THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU?

> I only wanted you to know that I am always here to
>listen if you should like to talk about it."

TOM <Deanna>: Your insurance will cover this, right?

> "I appreciate the offer counselor, but you are right , we
>Klingons have our own
>methods of coping with loss, and I do not believe I will have
>need to *talk* about my feelings."

CROW: Nothing wrong with me a little nose-candy won't fix.

> Deanna smiled and gave him a slight nod, and then turned to
>leave.

MIKE <quiet falsetto>: Lousy rackin-frackin' ridge-headed...

> "Counselor, *Deanna*, wait."

TOM: No, Deanna is her *first* name. This is like calling Dr.
Forrester, "Dr. Clayton."

> Deanna turned back towards Worf. "Yes?"
> "I know how close you and Dr. Crusher were. I am sorry for
>your loss."
> Deanna was deeply moved by the sincerity and sensitivity that
>she could feel in Worf at that moment. A tear escaped

CROW <tear>: I'm free!!!
TOM <Tommy Lee Jones>: Listen up, we have a fugitive droplet of
salt water that escaped from a duct and has been on the run
for .90 seconds. I want you to check every nose, mouth,
laugh line, wrinkle...
MIKE: Careful, Tom. Mirina Sirtis' fans can get pretty rabid.

> and rolled down her cheek as she raced from
>the holodeck. For Deanna Troi, the floodgates of grief had just
>burst open. Worf
>watched her hurry away, trying in vain to choke back her
>emotion.

ALL <sitcom machine sound>:Aw.

>The fire of rage burned inside him again.

TOM <announcer>: Rage is like a fire burning inside you.

> "Computer reset program, and this time make it six
>Nausicans."

MIKE <computer>: Six well-endowed nymphs from Klingon legend,
known to becompletelyy defenseless and want only to love
you and satisfy your every carnal desire. Check.
CROW: Hey! I was gonna... never mind.

>Chapter 5

MIKE: Assignment: Miami Beach.

> The lights in the cabin were dim, the only illumination
>coming
>from a small group of candles flickering delicately in the
>darkness.

TOM: Oh, it's the set for the new Tori Amos video.

>Deanna Troi lay on her couch, eyes
>shut and mind open. Her mother called this process centering.

CROW: Though it wasn't quite as effective without Valium.

>Deanna let her memories of Beverly flow freely in her mind. She
>had closed herself off from sensing
>anyone else,

MIKE: Now, Deanna, no Betazoid is an asteroid.

>and she was now free to confront her own grief

CROW <Harrison Ford>: I didn't make her cry!
TOM <Tommy Lee Jones>: I don't care!

> Deanna knew that this would be a slow process of self
>healing,

MIKE: And she was charging herself 75 bucks an hour.

>but she
>must begin if she was going to be of any use to the rest of the
>crew,

TOM: Her utter failure with Worf proved that.

>and for that
>matter herself. A bittersweet

MIKE <Mr. Magoo>: Where's the tasty stuff with bittersweet?

>smile spread across the Betazoid's
>face as she looked
>back on her many adventures with her best friend.

CROW: The time they made Barclay think he had saved the whole
Enterprise all by himself and they were willing to show
him their...gratitude.
TOM: The time they arranged a blind date with Wesley and a
Klingon prom queen.
MIKE: The time they blasted Pantera over one of Picard's
broadcasts.

> After many hours of quiet contemplation,

CROW: ...about eight people on the Enterprise had gone mad with
grief since Deanna wasn't there to help them.
MIKE: That's dark, Crow.

> Deanna sat up and asked for the lights.

TOM <Simon Phoenix>: Nah, I changed that. Illuminate!

>There was still an open wound on her heart,

MIKE: Get the Neosporin, or it might get infected.

>but now she felt somewhat in control of the
>pain. It was time to help her friends.

ALL: IT'S MORPHIN' TIME!!

>She would work her way up from
>those in least desperate need of help to those in most desperate
>need.

MIKE: Starting with the New Kids On The Block fans and working
her way up to those who think Stephen Ratliff should write
the script for Star Trek VIII.

> "Computer, location of Lt. Commander Data?"
> "Lt. Commander Data is located in ten forward."
> "Computer, location of Lt. Commander La Forge?"
> "Lt. Commander La Forge is located in ten forward."
> "Guinan," Deanna remarked aloud.

CROW (computer): Guinan works in ten forward. You know that!
Everyone knows that!

>The counselor knew that

CROW (computer): Then what did you ask ME for?!?!

>Guinan would surely
>be doing her best at present to help Data and Geordi deal with
>Beverly's loss.

MIKE: Guinan used to run a bar in Amsterdam, so she knew about
allieviating stress.

>With Guinan around to serve up both drinks and good advice,
>Deanna sometimes humbly
>wondered if a ship's counselor was even necessary.

TOM: Who needs a shrink when you can drown your problems in
Starfleet Burbon?

> "Computer, location of Lt. Worf?"
> "Lt. Worf is in his quarters."
> Deanna figured that Worf was no doubt in the midst of a
>Klingon ceremony to
>honor a fallen comrade, and she opted against going to see him.

TOM: Then why did you bother him earlier?

>Besides, Worf
>already knew that she was available if he wanted her help.

TOM: Oh. I guess that explains it. Not.

> "Computer, location of Commander Riker?"
> "Commander Riker is in his quarters."
> "As good a place as any to start I guess," she sighed as she
>headed for the door.

CROW <Troi>: He's going to want me to wear the chicken suit
again...

> "Come in," Riker groaned as his door chimed for the third
>time.

TOM: Jump cut! Aigh!
CROW: No, Will and Deanna have connecting rooms.

> Deanna entered
>and paused a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. So
>Will had been hiding in the darkness too.

MIKE: Like the worm he is.

>She was saddened by what she then saw.

TOM: A marathon of "The New Monkees!" NOOOO!

>Will Riker was sitting
>on the floor in the corner of his cabin, his hair was a mess and
>his eyes bloodshot.

MIKE: Well, watching "The New Monkees" can do that to you.

>In his hands he held a small PADD.

TOM: It's "Oblivion: The Director's Cut!"

>As Deanna moved closer she saw the image he
>had called up for display on the PADD.

CROW: Hey! It's that pannel from Incredible Hulk #429 when Betty
is grabbing Bruce's...
MIKE: Crow, that was Liam Sharpe's idea.

> It was a picture from Will's last birthday.

ALL: He was 29...again.

> She was on one arm, and Beverly was
>on the other. The
>three of them were wearing goofy party hats,

CROW: And nothing else...
MIKE *Ahem*!
CROW: ...out of the ordinary.
TOM: Good save.

>and they were all smiling broadly.

TOM: What *did* Guinan put in the punch?

> "That was quite a party, I don't know if I ever had more
>fun,"
>Deanna remarked, trying to sound cheerful.

CROW <Juliette Lewis in NBK> Ah never had more fun in mah life!

> "I can't believe she's gone," Riker said finally. "This ship
>will never be the same without Beverly."

MIKE: Season two was pretty dry, wasn't it?

> "No, it won't be the same, but that doesn't mean that we
>can't all be happy again.

TOM: We just need a good old fashioned Irish wake.

>In time we will all move on and get used to life without her."

MIKE: In fact, I'm starting to forget her already. Her last name
was Mauler or Mangler or somthing like that, right?

>The counselor still choked a bit on the words 'without her.'

CROW <Riker>: Darn. If she was really choking, I could have
gotten behind her and given her the heimlich manuver.

> "Move on, *move on,* how the hell am I supposed to 'move on'

ALL <singing>: Movin' on up! To the top! To a deluxe apartment,
in the sky-y-y!

>when it is my fault
>she's dead? How am I supposed to 'move on' when every time I
>close my eyes I see her falling, and I hear her screaming?"

TOM: That's us.
ALL: ARRGGHHH!
TOM: See?

> Riker looked up at Deanna who was now
>kneeling beside him. He waited a moment, and then he demanded
>fiercely, "how?"

CROW: I WANT THE TRUTH!
TOM: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!

> "Will, I am not trying to pretend that what happened to you
>wasn't awful.

TOM: So, I'm just going to pretend it was awful, to keep up
appearances.

>I can't
>even imagine the horror of watching a friend die in such a
>terrible way, but you have
>to accept that you are a victim in this and not a villain."

CROW <ominous>: Victims. Aren't we all?
MIKE: We sure are, having to watch this.

>Deanna's voice grew more
>assuring and assertive. "You did everything that you could, and
>no one could have done any more.

TOM: Of course, super-strong Data could have pulled her up.
MIKE: So could Worf.
CROW: Deanna would have "sensed" the Romulan before he attacked.
TOM: Geordi would have "seen" the Romulan on his visor.
MIKE: So I guess the only one who couldn't have done anything
was...
ALL: Reg Barclay!
CROW: Well, being compared to Reg ought to perk Will right up!

> It was just Beverly's time.

TOM: I thought it was Morris Day and the Time.

> You must come to
>terms with that, or you
>will go mad with this undeserved guilt."

CROW: No, that's just a holdover from Catholic School.

> "What does it matter anyway, nothing we do or say will ever
>bring her back."

MIKE: Well, so much for her. Let's talk about us.

> Will Riker looked down at the picture in his hands.

TOM <Riker>: Was I ever that thin?

>He caressed Beverly's cheek with his
>thumb, and whispered "I'm sorry." And then he began to cry
>softly.
> The intensity of his pain assaulted Deanna.

CROW: Emotional cruelity to empaths! I see we still have
Afterschool Specials in the 24th century.
TOM: Let's hope Scott Baio isn't still around.

>She fought back her own tears long
>enough to lift his chin, look into his eyes, and offer him a
>simple consolation, "she knows, Will."

MIKE: Not biblically, I hope.

> Then Deanna gathered him up in her arms,

CROW: Hah! So Will has gone to pieces! Ha ha...Get it?
"Gathered?" "Gone to pieces?" Oh, forget it.

>and they
>held each other close so that they could cry for their friend
>together.

TOM: So, what do you want to do until they stop?
MIKE: Well, what do you think of Q turning Gypsy into a human?
CROW: I'm not sure, there's a certain simple pleasure to being a
robot.
TOM: We don't have to worry about bathing or sweating...
CROW: We don't have hands, organs, dementions...
TOM: We don't have senses, affections, passions...
CROW: We aren't fed by the same food, or hurt with the same
weapons...
TOM: If you prick us, we don't bleed...
CROW: If you tickle us, we don't laugh...
TOM: And if you poison us, we don't die.
CROW: So, it'll only be a matter of time before Gypsy asks
to be normal again. She'll realize being human sucks!
TOM: Plus, she'll have to share the bathroom with *you*!
*Chewbacca* leaves less hair in the sink than you do!
MIKE: Sorry I asked. <To Deanna and Riker> Aren't you done yet?

> When the tears finally stopped,

MIKE: About flaming time!

>Deanna asked, even though she could already
>sense the answer, "feel better?"

MIKE: After being compared to Chewbacca? No!

> "Yes, thank you for being here for me. Your friendship, no,
>*you* are more than I ever could deserve."

TOM <Riker>: But can I still keep "The Wicked Lady?"

> She smiled sweetly

MIKE <Magoo>: Where are... oh, never mind.

>and gave him a gentle kiss. "You deserve
>me Imzadi,

TOM: But no one deserves "Trancers 4: Jack of Swords!"
MIKE: Watch it, Servo.

> of that you may always be sure."
> He returned her smile, and questioned, "Imzadi forever?"

CROW: That's what the little kid was yelling at the beginning of
_Citizen Kane_!

> "Yes, forever," Deanna replied as she made her way out of his
>cabin. And then Will Riker slept, and he did not hear the
>screaming.

ALL: ARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!
MIKE: Hmm, no reaction. Must be because he's up there and we're
down here.
CROW: Let's go, guys.
<Mike picks up Tom and they leave.>

<Commercials. Buy Pizza Hut's new stuffed crust pizza. But eat
it all at once, since it is immpossible to reheat>

<SOL>

GYPSY: Gee, I hope this works. I haven't been this nervious
since I had to get whats-his-name off the Satellite.
Man, I hope this works. Did I already say that?
Whoops, he here comes. Hit it, Cambot!

GYPSY <sensuous voice>: Hello, Mike.

MIKE: Err, hi Gypsy. What did you want to talk to me about?

GYPSY: Oh, just you and me...us.

MIKE <nervous>: Us?

PUCK: Wow! An official Ranma 1/2 Akane Tendo Mallet!
Autographed by Rumiko Takahashi herself! What a find! A
little banged up, but I love it!

<Dr. Forrester looks at the camera, more than a little peeved at
Mike actually enjoying himself while on the Satellite.>

DR. F: This will never do. Never ever do! Female companionship
could competely ruin my plans to turn Mike into a
vegetable. True, the psychological study of a robot
turned into a human could probably win me a Nobel Prize,
but I want Nelson to HURT!!!

PUCK: You know Dr. F...

DR. F: Don't call me that!

PUCK: Why don't you just send him up a woman that would inspire
this deep hurting you are so into inflicting? I know this
girl from Arizona, see....

DR. F: No! Even I have my limits! I've got to find some way
to....OH MY GOD!!!!

<SOL>

MIKE <sweating> Uh, Gypsy... I know now you are a *very*
beautiful human female, but less than an hour ago you were a
purple headed robot with a flashlight for an eye and a
Richard Baseheart obsession.

GYPSY <leaning in>: Richard? Richard who?

<Lights, Buzzers>

MIKE <relieved>: Ahhh, we've got fanfic sign!!!!

GYPSY: Oh, *damn*!!

CROW: So, what did Gypsy want to talk to you about?
MIKE: Ummm, just the oxygen arrangements.
CROW: Oh.

>Subject: REPOST: MOURNING 3/5
>From: A.Ma...@mail.utexas.edu (Allison M. Martens)

TOM: You've got the plugs, right?
MIKE: Yeah, right here.

>Date: 27 Mar 1995 19:56:42 GMT
>Message-ID:
<A.Martens-270...@slip-24-10.ots.utexas.edu>

>Part 3

>MOURNING by Allison Martens

MIKE: Earplugs in!
<Mike puts earplugs on Tom and Crow, then covers his own ears>

>PARAMOUNT OWNS EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY,
>HOWEVER
>THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. THIS IS FAN FICTION, AND IS PRODUCED
>SOLELY
>FOR MY AMUSEMENT, AND YOURS. IT IS NOT TO BE REPRODUCED FOR
>COMMERCIAL PURPOSES. FEEL FREE TO PASS THIS STORY ALONG TO
>YOUR
>FRIENDS, BUT PLEASE DO NOT SEPARATE IT FROM MY NAME AND THIS
>MESSAGE.

<Mike uncovers his ears and take out Tom & Crow's earplugs>
CROW: C'mon, leave them in.
MIKE: Sorry.

>Chapter 6

TOM: Bevey's Dead: The Final Nightmare.

> Jean-Luc Picard was sitting behind the desk in his ready
>room.

CROW: Next to the "set" room, and the "go" room.

> He had turned his chair so that he could look out his window
>at the trails of stars streaming by.

<Mike waves his hand in front of his face, like "Super Freakout">
ALL: Trails...trails...

>He needed to think about what he wanted to say in his message to
>Wesley.

CROW: Dear Wesley, Remember that time you said you wished your
mother was dead? Well...
MIKE: Dear Wesley, Beverly died, but you're not an orphan, since
I'm your real father!
TOM: Dear Wesley, I got trouble. One of my crew got herself
perished...

> He would prefer, no prefer was not the right word, it would be
>more appropriate to deliver such
>terrible news in person, but that would not be possible.

CROW <Picard>: Damn! Wish I could see the look on the little
runt's face!

> Picard thought of the little boy he hardly knew,

TOM <singing>: Is this the little boy I carried...

> who had listened so attentively when he had told him his father
>was dead.

CROW <little kid voice>: Gee, his head is so *shiney*! I wonder
if he polishes it or something. What's that he's saying
about Dad? Well, it can't be very important. I wonder if I
can see my reflection!

>Now that little boy was a young man, whom Picard
>had come to love like a son,

MIKE: Which was just as well, since Wesley really was...
CROW: Where do you get this stuff from?

>and again he must tell him a parent had been lost under
>his command.

TOM: Oh well. At least Wesley will have something in common with
Marissa Flores.

>The captain was being careful to keep tight control
>over his thoughts.

MIKE: Since Luxwanna Troi would be visiting soon.
CROW <Picard>: Better lock down the "Seran Wrap" thought.

>Every time the image of Beverly began to appear in his mind, he
>would chase it away.

CROW: Shoo! Scat! Bad image of Beverly! Bad! No tuna for you!

> 'Concentrate Jean-Luc on the matter at hand. There is too
>much to be done
>right now. Don't let her in, or you'll never be able to get her
>out,' Picard silently ordered to himself.

TOM: Hey, Picard's acting like the hero in a Tim Burton movie.
CROW: Except no black outfits or angora sweaters.

> "Come," Picard responded to the sound of his door chime.
>Deanna Troi entered from the bridge,

MIKE <Picard>: I was talking to the *door chime*!

> and the captain noticed that the lights had been
>dimmed. 'The night shift,' he thought.

MIKE: Starring Henry Winkler and Micheal...
CROW: This is getting old, Mike.

> Picard realized he had been 'composing' his
>message to Wesley for several hours.

MIKE: But he just couldn't get the notes down right.
TOM: You aren't packing them in like you used to.
CROW: Where are Wendy and Lisa at?

> Deanna looked tired, and she had obviously been crying
>recently,
>but she also appeared quite determined, and that made Picard a
>little nervous.

CROW <Picard>: Uh-oh. Deanna, I swear I don't know how these
pictures of you got on my desk!

> "Can I help you counselor?"

TOM: Counsel who? Guinan and Ro don't appear in this fanfic.
MIKE: The author just forgot a comma again.
CROW: Well, better than having Ro show up.

> "Sir, I thought you might need someone to talk to," she
>answered, trying not to sound too pushy.

CROW: I guess Deanna hasn't "gotten in touch with her inner
bitch" yet.

> "Counselor, your concern for me is appreciated," Picard
>stated abruptly, "but I
>would really rather not talk about Beverly right now.

TOM <falsetto>: Now, *I* didn't bring up Beverly, *you*
did. What do you suppose that means?

> For now I need to stay focused
>on the potential of a new Romulan threat in this sector."

MIKE: They'll come in and take our jobs, our land, our women! It
must be stopped NOW!

> Picard was all business, and that alarmed Deanna.

CROW <falsetto>: Then he *isn't* all man after all.

>She could
>sense that he had put up a wall around himself to ward off the
>grief.

ALL <chanting>: Tear down the wall! Tear down the wall!

> He had obviously decided to
>invent from the crash a great Romulan conspiracy against the
>Federation, that would,
>of course, require all his attention to foil, rather than accept
>the more likely
>explanation of a routine reconnaissance mission gone awry.

TOM: I didn't know Picard was a decendant of Fox Mulder.
CROW: Only on his mom's side of the family.

> "Sir, I agree that we must always be wary of the Romulans,

MIKE <falsetto>: After all, I used to be one!

>but, besides this
>escape pod crossing over into our territory, we have no evidence
>that they are up to anything.

TOM <Picard>: That's what they *want* us to think.

I think you can afford to take a little time

MIKE <singing>: ...with a wounded hand, 'cause it likes to heal.

>to cope with this loss. Sir, I know
>how much she meant to you."
> "Deanna please," Picard interrupted, his tone was short, "I
>know you are only trying
>to be helpful, but I would really rather be alone."

TOM <Garbo>: I vant to be alone.

> Now Deanna started to get nervous,

CROW <falsetto>: I have to go to the bathroom.

> because she sensed a repressed rage within him.

MIKE: And his eyes were glowing a strange green...What was
that tearing sound?
<'Bots start "singing" Incredible Hulk music.">

> Perhaps it was too soon to push him to confront his feelings.

CROW: What was your first clue, the vein throbbing in his neck
or him asking you to leave?

>"As you wish sir,"
>Deanna replied, leaving him alone with his bitterness.

TOM <Homer Simpson>: Ah, bitterness. Only you understand me.

> Picard finished his message to Wesley,

TOM: "Don't worry, we'll give the Romulan a quick trial and then
execute him."
CROW: "Hope this doesn't spoil your weekend."
MIKE: "I'm sure you'll learn to call me Dad."
ALL: "Love, Jean-Luc"

>but he somehow couldn't
>bring himself to send it. He decided to wait until morning, so

TOM: ...he could send it out in a quick Flash Session.
CROW: AOL Freak!!!

>that he could take a fresh look at it,
>before he transmitted it.

CROW: I wish Ratliff would do that sometimes.

>Jean-Luc, however, didn't want to
>admit the real reason for his delay.

TOM: That's okay, Picard. It happens to a lot of guys.
MIKE: Tom!
TOM: Y'see?

> To send the message would mean accepting that Beverly
>was indeed gone.
> Picard left his ready room, nodding to Data, who normally
>manned the bridge
>during the graveyard shift,

MIKE <Picard>: Did the narrator *have* to say "graveyard?"

> as he made his way to the turbolift.

TOM: It's not a *real* lift, you know, since turbolasers aren't
real lasers.
MIKE: So then, turbochargers aren't real chargers.

>The captain, however,
>did not return immediately to his quarters.

CROW: He knew the cops would be watching his house.

> Instead, he made his way to security. The
>Romulan prisoner was fast asleep in his cell.

CROW: Look! You can see the little "Z" above his head.
ALL: Awwwww...

> Picard approached the force field, but
>he said nothing. He simply stood there, focusing an icy stare
>on the prisoner's form.

MIKE <Picard> Patrick Stewart as Mr. Freeze! Yes, I'll be
perfect!

>'If only I could make you pay for what you have done,' he
>thought.

TOM: But Starfleet doesn't take "Romulan Express."

> Jean-Luc was in
>the middle of a rather vivid fantasy, one that involved serving
>the Romulan's still
>beating heart to him on a platter,

CROW (Homer Simpson): Mmmmm, Romulan heart.

> when one of the guards interrupted.

MIKE (guard): But sir! Romulan heart is high in cholesterol!

> "Can I do anything for you sir?"

TOM: Like serve the prisoner's heart to you on a platter?
CROW: The lesson? Don't have vivid fantasies in front of
full-blooded Betazoids.
MIKE: Hmm. Explains why Will didn't spend much time on
Deanna's home planet.

> Picard was pulled back to reality by the sound of the
>crewman's voice.

TOM: Speaking of being "pulled back to reality," I hope Gypsy
remembered to tape VR5 for me.
CROW: That's not as good as Sliders, though.
TOM: Why you...
<Tom tries to attack Crow, Mike seperates them>

>He shivered at the ferocity of his own thoughts before
> answering.
>"No, thank you, I think I will retire to my quarters now."

MIKE <guard>: Well, if you want any of the prisoner's vital
organs, just let me know.
TOM <Picard>: Thank you, Officer Lector.

>Chapter 7

> Upon returning to his cabin, Jean-Luc was tempted to pick up
>his fantasy where it
>had left off, but he thought better of it. He was still in
>enough control to realize how
>destructive these violent thoughts were becoming.

CROW: Picard's been watching John Woo movies again.

> He paced around his cabin nervously,

TOM <rapid>: Finkle. Einhorn. Finkle. Einhorn.

> haunted by thoughts of Beverly. He no longer
>possessed the strength to
>push her out of his mind, and the cold reality of the loss began
>to settle in. The rush of images was overwhelming.

TOM: No, that's just some stuff from MTV's Buzz Bin.

> He saw her sitting across from him
>at the breakfast table merrily dissecting a croissant.

CROW <gags>: Beverly ate with her autopsy tools?

>Then he saw her tending patients in sickbay.

MIKE <patient>: I hope your malpractice insurance is paid up,
you quack!!!

>Then she was striding onto the bridge to speak with him.

TOM <falsetto>: You won't return my phone calls, you lied about
leaving town....

> Gods,

MIKE: Hmmm, Odin.
TOM: Pluto.
CROW: Thor.
TOM: Hercules.
MIKE: No, he was only half-god.
CROW: Well, as long as we don't start the Steve Reeves/
Kevin Sorbo argument again.

>she was so graceful.
>Then Jean-Luc was sure he could hear her laughter.

MIKE: No, it's just one of those irritating background noises
the ship makes all the time.

> Suddenly, she was there in front of him, sitting on his
>couch, legs pulled up, her chin resting on her knees.

TOM: Picard's fantasies, photos taken by Vogue magazine.

>"Beverly," he cried out before he realized it was just
>another image.

CROW: Prophet, Bloodstrike, Brigade, they all blend together
after a while. I'm a Dark Horse robot myself.

>Jean-Luc shook his head, as if in an attempt to
>forcibly exorcise the
>thoughts of her from his mind.

TOM: Then he'll have to turn his head 360 degrees.

>He stalked over to his
>replicator.

CROW <nature show narrator>: Careful, don't want to scare it...

>"Tea, Earl Grey, hot," he commanded.

CROW <narrator>: Ah-ha! Got it!

>He sat down with his tea, and breathed
>deeply.

MIKE: Iiiin...
(Mike and 'Bots breath in loudly)
MIKE: And out.
(Mike and 'Bots exhale loudly.)
MIKE: Very good.

>The juggernaut of images seemed to have passed.

TOM: Nothing can stop... the Juggernaut!

> And then came the regrets. 'You never said good-bye.

> You never told her how
>beautiful she was. You never told her how much you admired her
>as an officer and a
>doctor. You never told her that she made you laugh.'

CROW: Because she didn't.

> The voice inside his head
>seemed to get louder and louder. 'You never held her in your
>arms.' And then the voice screamed inside him.

TOM <Sting>: I WILL KILL HIM! <normal> Oops, wrong sci-fi.

>'You fool, you never told her that you *loved* her.' Picard
>stood up. He wanted to run away,

CROW <singing>: Ruuun away, from the pain, yeah, yeah....

>but how could
>he get away from his own thoughts. The frustration, the pain,
>and the anger all converged inside him at once.

MIKE: So basically, he's acting like an Ibsen character in a
good mood.

> "Damn," he shouted, as he hurled his Earl Grey
>across the cabin. The glass shattered against the far wall, and
>Picard watched as the brown liquid ran down the wall,

ALL: Ewwwww!

>and then he did not like what happened next.

MIKE: Which is good, since *we* haven't liked what's happened
so far!

> "Temper, temper, mon capitain. Really now, whatever did that
>glass do to deserve such treatment?"

TOM: Hey! I was gonna say that!

> Picard whirled around. "Q, I am in no mood tonight.

CROW: I have a headache, and I feel bloated and unattractive.

> Please leave at once."

MIKE: Well, since he's omniscient, he's always *there,* but it's
a matter of being visble to mortals and... oh, no...
'BOTS: Faaaan boy! Faaan boy!
<Mike pouts>

> "Leave? Why would I do that before I had a chance to offer
>my condolences," Q quipped.

TOM: Q-tip?
MIKE: Bisquick?
CROW: Crispix?

> "You know I never cared much for red myself,

MIKE: Then why do you wear it everytime you show up?

>it was that grating personality
>I believe, but I know you liked her, shrillness and all."

TOM: I guess this explains why Picard collects
Mariah Carry CDs.

> Picard couldn't believe this kind of insensitive behavior,
>even from Q.

CROW: Andy Rooney or Greg Kinear, maybe, but...

>"Get out," he
>seethed. "Don't toy with me tonight Q. I won't stand for it."

MIKE <wimpy voice>: I'll harm you!

> "Toy with you, mon capitain. Me?" The sarcasm dripped from
>the omnipotent being's voice.

TOM: Gross! Use a napkin!

> At that moment, Picard snapped.

ALL <singing>: Da-na-na-na
<Mike snaps his fingers twice, a la "Adamms Family">

> He launched a punch that
>landed squarely on Q's jaw. Q fell to the floor.

CROW: And the Enterprise was erased from existance.
TOM: The lesson? Don't sucker punch omnipotent beings!

>Picard stared down at him in
>disbelief. Why had Q allowed him to actually strike him?

MIKE: This probably has something to do with Sisko hitting
Q on that episode of Deep Space Nine.
<The 'Bots are about to chant "Fan Boy" again, but Mike
elbows them out of their seats>

> "That was interesting," Q remarked as he stood up.

CROW: I'll say. Whatever happened to ripping my arm off?
<Crow and Tom get back in their seats>

> He was rubbing his jaw,
>obviously this was the first time he had ever been sucker
>punched. "Now is that any
>way to treat someone who has brought you a surprise?" He
>laughed just a bit as he looked into the captain's face.

TOM: Showing where Picard knocked out two of his teeth.

> "A surprise?" Picard questioned meekly.

MIKE <warbly teenaged voice>: F-for me?

> "Yes, but you have to earn it. I mean, I'm not just going to
>give it to you.

CROW: I'll want flowers, a ring, the results of a blood test...

> You have to prove to me that you really want it."

TOM: This is how Tarantino got Willis so cheaply for _Pulp
Fiction_.

> Picard grew annoyed again. 'Q and his ridiculous games,' he
>thought.

MIKE: "You Bet Your Soul," "Wheel of Karma," "Let's Turn the
Housecleaning Robot into a Human." I can't stand it.

> He asked
>angrily, "how the hell am I supposed to prove I really want the
>surprise, if you don't tell me what it is?"

TOM: Just be good all year 'round, cause Santa is watching!

> "Ah, therein lies the challenge Jean-Luc." Q drew the
captain close

CROW: And then gave him a big... hmm, better not.

>and offered up some unsolicited advice.

MIKE <Phil Hartman> Q is not a liscenced therapist.

> "Now, remember all that you have
>learned, and be sure to,
>oh what is that incredibly trite human expression,

TOM: There can be only one?
MIKE: I'll be back?
CROW: Life is like a box of chocolates?
TOM: Here's looking at you, kid?
MIKE: Use the Force?
CROW: I'm an excellent driver?

>oh yes, remember to 'follow your
>heart'." Q grinned at his hapless companion, and said "good
>luck mon capitain!"
>Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
> 'Good riddance,' thought Picard, when a familiar voice
>suddenly spoke behind him.

MIKE: Q- Master of Ventriliquism.

>He turned, not believing what he had heard.

TOM <Picard>: I'm bald?!? That's not possible!

> Sure enough, it was her.

CROW: Not to be confused with Him, who would later become
Adam Warlock, leading to all the Infinity Crossovers..

> "Jean-Luc answer me. Are you all right?"

TOM: We will be, once we're out of here.

CROW: Hey, I smell smoke!

<SOL>

MIKE: *koff* What's going on? *koff* *koff* Gypsy, are you
all right?

CROW: What happened? What's with the smoke?

GYPSY <off>: Uh...there was a little electrical short.

MIKE: There was?

GYPSY <off>: Yeah, and it started a small fire, but it's out now.

TOM: Oh, good. Any damage?

GYPSY <off>: Well, I was so used to just spitting halon onto the
fires, I had a little trouble putting this one out. I
found
the fire exstinguisher, and only this was burned.

CROW: MY FANFICS!!!

GYPSY: I'm really sorry, Crow. I had a hard time finding the
fire exstinguisher, since I'm usually hooked up to the satellite.
This was the only damage though.

CROW: My fanfics...all that work...

TOM: Oh, well, at least they'll never see the light of an
Internet screen.

CROW: Sliders meet Dr. Who.... X-Files/VR5 Forever
Knight/Dead at 21... Red Dwarf vs. Aliens... Quantum
Leap/M.A.N.T.I.S.... All gone! <sobs>

GYPSY <about to cry herself>: Crow...I'm so sorry...

CROW <angry>: Sorry! This wouldn't have happened if you
hadn't wished to be turned into a human you...you...
Fleshling!!!!

CROW: You foul carbon entity! You sack of skin and blood!

<Crying, Gypsy runs off>

TOM: Crow! I can't believe you said that with the Fleshling...
er, I mean Mike standing right hear!

MIKE: Crow, that was harsh! Nonsensical, but harsh!

Q: Hi, guys! Guess what?

CROW: You're going to restore my fanfics?

Q: No! It turns out someone is not too pleased with the idea
of Gypsy begin a human.

TOM: Yeah! Us!

Q: No! I don't give two flying fig-newtons about you two.
I'm talking about someone else.

MIKE: Uh, who?

Q: I'll show you! <snaps fingers>

MIKE <gushing>: Wow! Nuveena! You're back!

NUVEENA: Never mind my back, Mike. I understand you're seeing
somebody whose just been turned into a human.

<Gypsy, wiping her eyes with a hankerchief, comes back in>

NUVEENA: Now, I could trust you with all the many young, nubile MiSTies out there
who want to have your baby, but with
an actual human female on board this Satellite...

MIKE: Really? Young nubile MiSTies who want to have my baby?

TOM: Oh, gross! Crow, you can have my RAM chips for the rest
of the year! I think I've lost my appitite forever!

CROW <mumbling to himself>: Appleseed meets Bubblegum Crisis...

GYPSY: Oh, Mr. De Lancie!

Q: Um, It's just Q...

GYPSY: I've made a terrible mistake. I never should have asked
to become a human and... <notices Nuveena> WHAT'S THAT
TROLLOP DOING HERE?!?!?!?

Q: Well, I can see when I'm not wanted. <vanishes>

GYPSY: Grrrrr!

NUVEENA: Grrrrr!

MIKE: Oh, dear. I don't know whether to thank Q or kill him.

TOM <to Cambot>: Mercifully, we've got some commercials.

CROW <mumbling>: The Shadow meets the Rocketeer...

<Commercials. Coming soon to Comedy Central: Tom Rhodes goes to
Mars! And stays there! Yay!>

TOM: Don't worry Mike, I'm sure Gypsy and Nuveena will play nice
while we're in here.
<A loud crash makes Mike drop Tom>
GYPSY <off>: Foul futuristic floozy!
NUVEENA <off>: Rancid robotic reject!
TOM: Maybe I spoke too soon.

>Subject: REPOST: MOURNING 4/5
>From: A.Ma...@mail.utexas.edu (Allison M. Martens)

MIKE: Maybe I should go back and see how they are...
CROW: No way, Nelson.

>Date: 27 Mar 1995 19:58:13 GMT
>Message-ID:
><A.Martens-270...@slip-24-10.ots.utexas.edu>

TOM: I bet you feel like a character on an Aaron Spelling show,
huh?
MIKE: Yeah. I think I'm rapidly becoming two dementional!

>Part 4

>MOURNING by Allison Martens

MIKE: Brace yourselves!

MIKE: Jeeze! I'm gonna need a "Miracle Ear" when this is over.

>Chapter 8

> "Nella?"

MIKE: Starring Jodie Foster and Liam...
TOM: GET HIM!
<Tom and Crow start "pounding" on Mike>
MIKE: Okay, okay, I'll stop!

> Picard was shocked to see her, he thought he would
>never see her again.

CROW <wailing>: Like I'll never see my Highlander/Brisco County
Jr. fanfic again!

>But it was definitely Nella Darren sitting on his couch staring
>back at him. 'Could this be Q's surprise,' he thought.

TOM: No, he's going to turn the replicator into a human!
CROW: Who will then incinerate Indiana Jones meets Rocky Jones!
<sobs>.

> "I have thought of you often over these many months,
>Jean-Luc." Nella was
>attempting to open up the conversation, for Picard was standing
>before her seemingly frozen.

CROW: Jeeze! Enough with the Mr. Freeze hints! Warner Brothers
will keep him in mind for Batman 4!! Happy now?

> "It is good to see you again. I am only sorry it has to
>be under such sad
>circumstances. Beverly was a fine person, and an excellent
>physician. I am sure that
>you, and everyone else aboard this ship, will miss her."

MIKE: So, she ever tell you the truth about Wesley?

> "How did you get here?"

TOM <Nella>: Well, it's simple biology. My mother and my father
were deeply in love and....

>was all the captain could manage.

TOM <TV police bueurocrat>: Dammit, if Picard can't manage a
simple statement, what's he doing in charge of a starship?
MIKE <TV police lieutenant>: Picard is a good cop!

> "That Q being came and said that you needed me.

CROW: He projected a holographic image of you that said: "Help
me, Nella Darren. You're my only hope."

> He told me what happened,
>and that he knew I would want to be with you." Her voice was
>gentle and sincere.
> The warmth in her eyes began to work their old magic on
>Picard,

MIKE: Oh no! A "warm-eyes" spell!
TOM: I never figured Nella for a "Magic: The Gathering" player.

>and he started to
>feel a bit better. He also noticed that she was as beautiful as
>he had remembered.
>"You wanted to be with me?"

CROW <Picard>: But...sometimes *I* don't want to be with me.

> "Yes," she answered, as he sat down beside her. Nella
>wrapped her arms around
>him and offered her condolences once again.

MIKE: Take these condolences, with my condolences.

> Her embrace was comforting. Picard began to turn over in his
>mind what she
>meant when she said she wanted to be with him.

TOM: Did she mean "with him" with him?

>He flashed back
>to their brief, but passionate relationship. He recalled how
>they had shared their music, and their
>hearts, before the realities of life in starfleet had driven
>them apart.
> "Jean-Luc," Nella said forging ahead.

CROW: Nella Darren: Explorer of Africa!
ALL <singing>: Hooray for Captain Darren, the African Explorer!
CROW <Groucho>: Did someone call me Snora?
ALL <singing>: Hooray, hooray, hooray!

>"I want to resign my commission. I want to
>come aboard the Enterprise as a civilian researcher.

MIKE <falsetto>: I'll ask the civilians, "Why do you stay aboard
a ship that keep getting attacked by aliens, thrown through
timewarps, and taken over by computer viruses created by
the doctor's dorky son?"

> That way we can be together
>without any conflict. I love you too much not to be with you.

TOM <falsetto>: Unlike before, when I loved you just enough to
drop you like a headless corpse at "Monster Joe's"

>Besides, there must be plenty of aspiring pianists

>aboard in need of instruction."
> "You would give up your career to be with me?" Picard was
>having trouble
>believing this, when that is what had split them up originally.
> "Yes," she answered convincingly.

CROW <falsetto>: I've been following these old mid-twentieth
short films on how to be submissively domestic. Now, all I
need is an electric kitchen, and everything will be fine!

> Picard thought about his intense loneliness.

MIKE: Well, it's very...intense. So lonely...no one else
around... aching for some sort of human compainionship...
TOM: Uh, Mike...You can't go and check on them!

>The warmth of Nella's embrace
>certainly dulled the ache he felt in his soul,

TOM <dentist's voice>: So, are you completely numb? Okay.
<makes drilling noises>

>and the thought of growing old,

CROW: Uh, what do you mean "growing" old?

>with
>somebody he cared about, greatly appealed to him. Picard had
>come, in recent
>years, to regret more and more the fact that he had no family of
>his own.

MIKE: Except for his brother and nephew, but hey, it's not like
they'll die in a terrible fire or anything.

> He was about to accept her offer,

TOM: All right, I accept. But why do I have to sign the contract
in blood during a full moon?

>and seek permanent refuge in her love,
>when a startling realization ripped through him.

CROW: Wow! Q's surpirse was implanting a baby Alien in Picard's
chest. And there it is!

>Jean-Luc suddenly discovered that the
>ache he felt was not loneliness, but loss. He didn't want just
>any companionship, just
>any family. He wanted Beverly. His soul desired her, and her
>alone.

TOM <Travolta>: See, this is a truest test of one's self, to see
if one can maintain loyalty.

>It was true that
>he cared deeply for Nella, and it was true that she could
>undoubtedly ease his
>sorrow, but she could never eliminate it. She could never erase
>his desire for Beverly.

MIKE: Then use White-Out. Go for it, man!

> Finally, he spoke. "Nella, this isn't right. If you
>gave up your life for me, you would only end up resenting me.

TOM: Beverly gave up her life for Will's, and she screamed at him
the whole way down.

>And Nella," his voice was filled
>with emotion, "I can't have you. You will always be dear to me,
>never forget that, but
>I cannot take advantage of your kindness, when I am in love with
>someone else."

CROW: Oh, so this is supposed to prove that Picard has more
character than Riker.
MIKE: Or that Picard is a dork.
TOM: Nice try, Trekkie-boy.

> At first Nella did not understand what he meant, but then it
>began to make sense.

TOM: You come from another planet. And you're mortal there.
But you're immortal here, until you kill all the guys from
there who have come here -- and then you're mortal here.
Unless you go back there -- or some more guys from there
come here. In which case you become immortal here --again.
CROW: Something like that.

>"Beverly? But Jean-Luc, she's gone."

MIKE <singing>: She's gone...oh-aye, oh-aye...

> "I know that I can never have her,"

CROW <college DJ>: Here's Nine Inch Nails with "Something I Can
Never Have."

>he replied. "But I can't,
>and I won't, live a lie and deny what I truly feel. I am
>sorry if I have hurt you."

TOM: 'Course, I could give two figs about your feelings.

> "It hurts now, but it is better to know the truth." She was
>obviously disappointed,
>but Nella was the kind of woman who was strong enough to handle
>pain, and that
>strength also showed in her expression.

CROW: The revolver in her hand helped also.

> Q appeared again, looking as mischievous as ever.

TOM <Jon Lovitz>: Aren't I naughty?

> "This has certainly gotten very
>interesting," he remarked.

MIKE: Not for us. Though... <looks to the right> Maybe I...
'BOTS: Forget it, Mike.

> Picard looked at Q and, with profound sadness in his voice,
>began to speak. "I
>guess I did not 'earn' my surprise. I can not prove to you that
>I want Nella. Please take her home now."
> "Let me get this straight mon

CROW: It's Rasta Q!
TOM <Jamaican accent>: Hey, mon! I dee-liver you this prime
choice o' Nella, an' you turn her down? No problem, mon.

> capitain," Q said dramatically.
>"You would rather be
>true to your heart and mourn a dead woman for the rest of your
>life, and live alone,
>something you happen to fear, rather than seek comfort in the
>arms of a woman whom you admittedly care for?"
> "Yes."

MIKE: Wallowing in your own self-pity has become very chic.

> Q snapped his fingers and Nella disappeared. "Don't worry,
>she won't remember a thing."

ALL <little kid voices>: Lucky!

> Picard shook his head and asked Q to go and leave him in
>peace.

> "What? Don't you want your surprise? After all you earned
>it." Q now was grinning in his usual self-satisfied way.
> The captain was now thoroughly confused. "I, um, ah, don't
>understand," he stammered.

MIKE <Picard>: What was I talking about?
CROW <Steve Buscemi>: You were talking about how "True Blue" is
about a sensetive guy who meets a nice girl, but "Like a
Virgin" is about...
MIKE: Yes...Thank you, Crow.

> "Naturally," Q retorted. "You know Jean-Luc," he said
>feigning relief. "I am damn
>glad you earned your surprise, because I sure as hell didn't
>want to be stuck with it
>myself!" Q snapped his fingers, and this time the result was
>positively marvelous.

TOM <British accent>: No, no, that won't work for a show about
two neurotic fashion designers. Close, but just not right.
CROW <ditto>: How about... "Absolutely Fabulous?"
TOM: Perfect.

>Beverly Crusher materialized at Q's side, looking a bit
>disoriented, which was nothing compared to the look currently
>evident on the face of
>Jean-Luc Picard.

MIKE: He was pissed that such a great story had been ruined by
bringing back the character who had died.
TOM: You think this story is great?
MIKE: Oh, sorry. I was just referring to the return of Jean
Grey.
TOM: Oh. Well, that's all right then.

> "Beverly," Picard whispered. "Q, please tell me this is
>real, and not another trick or
>game." Picard sounded positively desperate.

CROW <British>: No, that's what the *characters* are like, but
no one will want to watch a show called *that*.

> "I'm real Jean-Luc, or at least I think I'm real.

TOM: Oh, lord. Philosophical questions in a Star Trek fanfic.

> One minute I was falling through
>some clouds and the next minute I am somewhere else entirely,

CROW <deep voice> This is your brain on drugs.

>with only him to look at." Beverly gestured towards Q,
>and then she paused to wait for confirmation of her existence.

MIKE: What do you want, your birth cirtificate?

> "Yes, yes, she's the genuine article." Q rolled his eyes.

CROW: And began to foam at the mouth.

>"All her current flaws and
>shortcomings were preexisting I assure you." Q could never
>forgo

TOM: Torgo? Where?

>an opportunity to insult the good doctor.

MIKE: You were only on camera for thirty seconds in
"Hunt for Red October!" Then they gave your part
to Anne Archer for the sequils. Nyah, nyah, nyah!

> Jean-Luc and Beverly simply stared at each other.

CROW: Check it out. An "uncomfortable silence."
MIKE: I think we've done enough Tarantino jokes.

>They both
>needed a few moments to compose themselves.

ALL <warming up>: Mi mi mi mi mi meeee. La la la la laaaa.

>Crusher needed the time to process the fact that
>she was actually home safe, and no longer at Q's mercy.

CROW: But Beverly uses the Pentium Processor, so that could
take days.

> Picard needed the time to
>accept the fact that the woman he loved so desperately, and
>mourned so intensely, had suddenly come back to life.

TOM: *Sigh* Why don't we just read X-Factor #1?
MIKE: Don't give Dr. Forrester any ideas.

> "Well, while this is certainly riveting," Q remarked

TOM: No one will be seated when Crusher and Picard stare at
each other!

>mockingly, "I really must be going.

CROW: Gotta go ruin the stasis quo on some Satilite by turning
a robot into a human.
MIKE: Hey!

>I certainly hope that you make the most of the moment, mon
>capitain!" With that, Q
>stepped back. Now out of Beverly's sight, he looked straight at
>Picard, and slyly
>offered the captain a roguish wink

TOM: As opposed to a Gambit-ish wink...
CROW: Or a Bishop-ish wink.
TOM: Or a Jubilee-ish...
<Mike puts a hand on each 'Bot's shoulder, and they stop>

>as he made his exit.

CROW: What we wanna do here, Bawb, is made a hole in space and
time, so your average omnipotent being can go from here
to there in an instant.

> Picard looked back to Beverly, and a wide smile spread across
>his face. He began to laugh uncontrollably.

MIKE <German accent>: You must understand that the nerves were
completely severed, Mr. Napier.

> "What are you laughing at?" Beverly began to worry for her
>friend's sanity.

TOM: Oh, he lost that long ago.

> "I never thought I would see the day that I would actually
>appreciate being a source
>of Q's amusement." Jean-Luc grew more serious with his next
>statement. "Getting
>you back is worth any challenge Q has to offer."

CROW: Except peanucle. Or rugby. Or chess.

> "Well, I am just glad to be alive. I really believed it was
>the end for me."

TOM: I wish the author wouldn't toy with us like that. We
finally think the cast is gonna thin out, and then...

> Picard interrupted. His heart was racing,

MIKE <announcer>: ...passing the spleen and gaining quickly on
on the lungs! He's neck and neck with the voice box. Oh,
it's a real race here, folks!

>and his mind was filled with all of the
>amazing possibilities of a future with Beverly Crusher alive and
>by his side. "Let's not
>talk anymore about what was." He said smoothly.

TOM: Picard thinks he's Mr. G.Q. Smooth.

>"Let's just concentrate on what will be."

CROW: A future of making convention appearances and a few
B-grade sci-fi and action movies?

> Beverly raised an eyebrow,

MIKE: Women can't do Leonard Nimoy impressions.
CROW: Except Kim Catrell.
MIKE: I rest my case.
CROW: Hey!

>and looked back at him inquisitively.

TOM: No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!

> She was definitely intrigued.

MIKE: A shame we're not. Let's go.

CROW: Am I going to have to carry you over the grate again?!?

TOM: Sorry.

CROW: Sheesh, carrying you when we come in sometimes is bad enough...

<SOL>

GYPSY: He's mine! Mine!

NUVEENA: Sez who? You've been a robot for the last seven years!

GYPSY: Hah! I know more about emotions than you, you ice-queen!

MIKE: Girls! Girls! Stop this nonsense!

GYPSY: Never! She's weakening!

NUVEENA: Just getting my second-wing!

MIKE: Girls, please! I can't stand to see you fight like this!

GYPSY: She's about to give up...

NUVEENA: I was thinking the same thing...

TOM: Whoa! Check this out!

CROW: Gee, Mike, you've got two women arm wrestling for you!
Not bad for a guy from Happy Temps.

MIKE: Oh, brother. Gypsy gets her second fondest wish to become
a human, Nuveena comes here, and all they can do is arm
wrestle over who gets to have me.

TOM: Hey! Who says they're arm wreslting over you?

CROW: Yeah! It could be for my love they're reinacting
"Over-The-Top" for.

GYPSY & NUVEENA <straining>: Don't kid yourself, Crow.

MIKE <weakly>: I think I'll take a little nap before the
experiment starts up again. <exits>

GYPSY: Hey! Mike's gone!

NUVENNA: Oh, blast.

TOM: Girls, girls, you're doing this all wrong.

GYPSY & NUVEENA: We are?

CROW: Of course you are. If you're going to battle for the love
of Nelson, you have to do something more...dramatic.

GYPSY: Like what?

TOM: Well, whenever the Greek women had to battle for their men,
they mud wrestled.

NUVEENA: They did?

GYPSY: Are you sure, Tom.

TOM <lying>: Sure I'm sure. So, the obvious thing for you two to
do is mud wrestle. Whoever wins gets Mike.

GYPSY & NUVEENA: Okay, we'll do it.

TOM & CROW <amazed>: You will?

GYPSY: Sure. Of course, I'll win.

NUVEENA: No, you won't!

CROW: All right! Tom, you get the wading pool and mud, while
I help the girls change into their string bikinis.

TOM: No way! You get the pool, and I'll help them with the
bikinis!

GYSPY: Why don't the both of you get the wading pool, and
Nuveen and I will change into our bikinis on our
own.

NUVEENA: Wait. I don't have a bikini.

GYPSY: Hmm, now that you mention it neither do I.

GYPSY & NUVEENA: Thank you!

Q: No problemo. <vanishes>

TOM: Okay, you go and change, while Crow and I get the pool
out.

GYPSY: You got it.

TOM & CROW: They're gonna mud wrestle! They're gonna mud wrestle!

<Commercials. Mentos! Send in two proofs-of-purchase and get
an offical Hitler's Youth membership card, just like the kids in the
commercials>

MIKE: Did you calm Gypsy and Nuveena down?
TOM: Oh, yeah. We've settled everything.
MIKE: Hey, Crow, why are you covered with mud?
CROW: Don't ask!

>Subject: REPOST: MOURNING 5/5
>From: A.Ma...@mail.utexas.edu (Allison M. Martens)
>Date: 27 Mar 1995 20:00:29 GMT
>Message-ID:
><A.Martens-270...@slip-24-10.ots.utexas.edu>

>Last part.

ALL <soprano angel choir>: Ahhhhhhh...

> Hope you enjoyed it again!

ALL <giving OK sign>: It stinks!

>Part 5

>MOURNING by Allison Martens

MIKE <solomn>: And now, the last part of "Mourning."

>Chapter 9

>"What do you mean by 'what will be' Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked,
>uncertainly.

TOM <Picard>: What? I wasn't paying attention. I was too
excited that this was the last part.

>She could
>not quite tell if Jean-Luc was merely referring to his relief at
>her being alive, or if there
>was perhaps something more behind his remark.
>That prospect made her heart skip a beat.

CROW: Thus, she died of heart failure.
MIKE: Crow, chill.

>After all, Picard was not the only one who had to
>recently deal with regrets
>and reevaluations. Beverly had a long time to think about her
>life, while she was
>floating around in Q's limbo,

TOM: She regretted not pushing Pulaski down that elevator shaft.
CROW: Not getting to destroy Romeo & Juliet by casting a Klingon
in the male lead.
MIKE: Not telling Wesley that Picard was his father.
'BOTS: What?
MIKE: If you have to ask, you'll never know.

>and she lamented not having finally
>told Jean-Luc what
>she had been meaning to tell him all these years.

CROW <falsetto>: You smell like bad French wine.

> Picard stared back at Beverly, without immediately answering
>her question. He was
>savoring the breathiness

<'Bots giggle>
MIKE: Breathiness. B-R-E-A-*T-H*.
'BOTS: Oh.

>of her voice. The way she said his name always did drive
>him to distraction.

CROW <country hick>: Wanna know how to drive to distraction.
Well, go straight 'til you come to "diversion," then
hang a left 'til you come to "occupy yer time." From
there, go south until you come to "gettin' yer attention..."

> He took her by the hand. When they touched
>it was electric,

TOM <singing>: You got this feeling...
ALL <singing>: IT'S ELECTRIC (Boogy woogy woogy)!

>and
>Jean-Luc knew that the time was right to dispatch with each and
>every regret that had
>haunted him earlier. Besides, he was looking forward to telling
>that voice inside him
>to go straight to hell. "I think we better sit down and talk
>about it," he said, as he led her to his couch.

CROW <Mike Meyers>: HELL-LO!!

> Beverly Crusher did not need to be an empath at this point to
>realize that there was
>definitely *something more* behind his remark. And for her,
>that something more
>was a wonderful, terrifying, exhilarating, complicated, and,
>let's face it, long overdue thing.

TOM: Oh. The end of this fanfic.

'Why isn't he saying anything,' she thought,

MIKE: Writers block, I guess.

>as she looked straight into his
>eyes. The smoldering fire she found there burned on her cheeks,

CROW: Picard has heat vision!

>as she began to
>grow a bit embarrassed at just how excited his touch, and the
>potential outcome of the impending conversation, made her.

TOM: Mike, do we *have* to see this?
MIKE: I'm afraid so.
TOM *Sigh*

> Finally the captain broke the titillating silence.

CROW <stupid voice>: Huh-huh-huh. It said "broke."

>"Beverly, I am not sure you realize
>the extent to which I am relieved by your, well for lack of a
>better term, resurrection. I
>mean, Q hasn't simply returned my dearest friend to me," Picard
>paused here.

MIKE: And then continued.
TOM: Then paused. Then continued.

>He wanted to be sure Beverly sensed how serious he was about his
>next statement.

CROW: They just finished saying Beverly wasn't an empath.

>"I feel that he has given me back my life, my soul."

MIKE: I sold it to the devil to get this job, you know.

> It wasn't 'I love you.' It was better.

TOM <singing> Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me...
CROW: *Please* don't say it.

> "I didn't know you had such strong feelings for me,
>Jean-Luc."

MIKE <falsetto>: But I only like you as a friend. And becoming
romantically involved would ruin that.
'BOTS: D'OH!

>The quaver in
>Beverly's voice stemmed from both excitement and relief. "I
>think we both always
>knew that there was something powerful between us, but to know
>you care so much ... "

CROW: Now she can tell him Wesley's his son!
MIKE: Now you're catching on, Crow!
CROW: You're right Tom. Humoring the Trekkie is fun!
MIKE: Hey!

> Jean-Luc interrupted her here. He drew her hands up to his
>mouth, and kissed
>them gently. "Beverly, to say 'I love you' would be inadequate
>to express just how
>deeply I care for you." He internally breathed a sigh of
>relief, when he saw the delight in her eyes.

CROW: Great. Picard gets to watch Dee-Light while we have to
sit through this.

>He had not bared his soul in vain.

TOM: But souls don't have veins, do they Mike?

> To actually here him say those words thrilled Beverly. Now
>it was safe for her to open up to him.

MIKE <to 'bots>: Not. A. Single. Word.

>She had always stood to lose so much where Jean-Luc was
>concerned,

CROW: What little self-respect she had...

>and that had caused her to repress her feelings for
>him. Only the
>occasional life-threatening situation had ever pushed her to
>tell him the truth, but

TOM: Those happened every other week, proving she is just a wuss.

>someone or something always interrupted.

MIKE: Like that episode of "Friends."
CROW: Which one?
MIKE: Uh, all of them, I think.

>That's the way it goes with life-threatening situations.

TOM <goofy voice>: Yup! That's the way it goes, Kooky!

>Beverly moved a bit closer to him and spoke.
>"Jean-Luc, I love you. I have for a very long time,"

CROW <falsetto>: Since the beginning of this fanfic, in fact.

>she said confidently, all her previous trepidations having
>been washed away by the captain's declaration of love,

TOM <Irish accent>: Your whole past history, and the history
of your family, will be washed away.

>and her own realization that
>life was indeed too short to be strangled by these fears.

MIKE <falsetto>: I *will* disown Wesley!

> In response, Jean-Luc slowly wrapped his arms around Beverly
>and pulled her
>towards him, chasing away the last few inches that separated
>them.

CROW: Of course, they still have half the distance to cover, then
half the distance of hat, and half the distance of that...

> He could no
>longer regret never holding her in his arms.

TOM: Now he *could* regret holding her in his arms.

> She felt warm against him, and Jean-Luc
>could feel her ardor.

'BOTS: WHAT!?!?
MIKE: Ardor. Noun. Zest, fervor, emotion, excitement.
'BOTS: Sayyyyy..
<Mike sighs>

> Beverly smiled at him impishly, and her
>expression was all the
>invitation that Picard needed.

TOM: I didn't know Picard was a Starfleet Fratboy.

>They kissed. And their kiss was filled not only with the
>urgency of two people who have recently realized the ease
>with which they could be snatched away from one another, but
>also the yearning of years of unavowed love and attraction.

CROW: Ladies and Gentlemen, the author has turned on the
"Mushy Part" sign. Feel free to barf into the bags
located inbetween your seats.

> Their lips parted,

>and then Jean-Luc whispered in Beverly's ear.

MIKE <whispering>: The FBI approached me today. It seems
Lambini, Lambert & Locke is really a front for the
Chicago mob. Kazinski and Hodges may have been murdered.

> "Stay with me tonight. Nobody knows you are here.

CROW: You're mine! All mine!!! Don't even think anyone will
find you.

>It will be as if we are the only two people in
>the universe." His voice was wildly seductive. "For one night,
>I want you all to myself."

TOM: While in sick bay...
MIKE <nervous doctor>: This man needs immediate surgery, and
Dr. Crusher was the the only phsycian skilled enough to
perform this type of operation!
CROW <other doctor>: Too bad she's dead. I'm sure she would
be here if she wasn't, not playing kissy-face with the
captain. Well, it's a good thing I saved my text books
from medical school. Hand me that buzz saw!

> Beverly never imagined that Jean-Luc Picard could be so
>passionate. What a pleasant surprise.

MIKE <doctor> What's an artery doing there? Clamp it!
CROW <doctor>: Gee, this was simpler on the holodeck.

>The idea of making love to him right then, when all the world
>believed she was nothing more than a memory, seemed as
>deliciously wanton to Beverly, as it did romantic.

MIKE <doctor>: I remember Dr. Crusher. She was a real doctor.
Always put medicine before her romantic impulses.
CROW <doctor>: Whoops. Hey, people don't need their pancreas
that much, do they?

> She could do little more than murmur her agreement, for
>the sensation of Jean-Luc's lips caressing her neck was
>thoroughly distracting.

CROW <doctor>: Gee, there wasn't this much blood in the
simulation. <makes gagging sounds>
MIKE <doctor>: Cool! When I press on this vein, his neck
turns purple!

> Picard stood, and with surprising ease lifted Beverly into
>his arms. 'Passionate and
>strong. This just keeps getting better and better,' she
>thought, as the captain carried her off to his bed.

MIKE <doctor>: Uh, people have two lungs in case one is
accidentally shredded and needs to be removed, right?
CROW <doctor>: Sure! I'll just remove the damaged lung right
now and... bingo!
MIKE: Wait, I already *removed* the cut-up lung!
CROW: Uh-oh.

> Deanna Troi woke from her sleep. She had been jolted to
>consciousness by a wave of very powerful emotions.

MIKE <doctor>: I hate you! You only went to med school to
date rich girls who were smarter than you!
CROW <doctor>: Me? You're the one who... hey, how long can the
brain go without oxygen again?
MIKE: Uhhh, seven, eight minutes, I think.
CROW: Ok, okay. Well you kept breaking into the teacher's
files to steal test answers! And you never shared!
MIKE: Well you... hey, what's that long "eeeeee" noise?
CROW: Don't change the subject!

>The combination of relief and
>ecstasy that she sensed puzzled her.

MIKE <doctor>: *Sigh* He's gone.
CROW <doctor>: At least he's out of his misery.
TOM <patient>: I'm free... I'm ready, Lord.... A heavenly
chariot, comin' after me, comin' for to carry me home.
MIKE: You tampered in God's domain.
CROW: *I* tampered in God's domain? You were the one with the
"bright idea" of having me ask the computer to replicate his
large intestines!
MIKE: That would have worked if you hadn't asked for sausages!
CROW: It was the closest thing the replicator could come up with!

>'How can anyone be so happy after a day as
>terrible as this?' she thought.

MIKE <doc>: Oh well, at least we have his endocrine.
CROW <doc>: Yeah. Try to shoot it directly into my thyroid
gland this time...ahh, that's nice.

>She tuned out the sensations, and fell back to
>sleep, hoping to meet up
>with her best friend once again in her dreams.

TOM <Freddy Krueger>:Hello, Deanna. Miss me?

> For Deanna believed that this was the
>only place where they could ever be together again.

MIKE <soft>: If there are two people, who are meant
to be together...

>Chapter 10

> Picard was propped up on one elbow as he stared at the form
>asleep beside him.
>He had been watching her for hours, thinking.

MIKE: Well, Picard always was a little......
TOM: Slow?
MIKE: This fanfic is pretty slow.

>Beverly was sleeping on her side, and
>her hair cascaded across her face.

CROW: Guess Cascade really *doesn't* remove spots.

>Jean-Luc reached out and gingerly pulled back
>the red locks, so that he could get a better look at her. A
>small, contented smile formed on her lips.

TOM <falsetto>: Oooh, Will. Uh... Hi, Jean-Luc!

>He had not meant to wake her, for it was
>still quite early, but he
>couldn't resist the desire to touch her. Beverly rolled over,
>and looked up at him.
> "Good morning," she cooed.

MIKE <dramatic voice>: Q has reincarnated Beverly as a pigeon!

> "Good morning indeed,"

TOM <Robin Williams>: Goooooood Morning, Indeeeeeeeed!!!

>Jean-Luc replied playfully. "I have an idea," he said
>grandly. "I propose that we permanently alter our breakfast
>ritual. Effective this
>morning, we will take our coffee and croissants in bed."
> Beverly could barely stifle her giggle,

CROW: Or her gag reflex.

>as she nodded in agreement. Picard hopped
>out of bed, and reddened slightly when he realized his robe was
>nowhere nearby.

TOM: Oh, *GOD,* no.

> He had not had occasion to use it last night.

CROW: Guess he was too busy with the enhancement rods.
MIKE <ripping Crow's arm off>: I was wondering when you'd get
around to that.

> He gave Beverly a shrug as he scurried off
>to his closet. She was amused at Jean-Luc's display of modesty.

TOM <falsetto>: He doesn't have much to be modest about.
MIKE: I'd rip out your arms, but they don't work.
TOM: You sure can hurt a robot, Nelson.

>Not only was she
>now his lover, but she was also a physician, who had seen
>hundreds of naked male patients before, including him.

CROW: I could have gone my whole life without reading that.

>Of course, she admitted to
>herself, she would have done the same.

ALL: Thank God!

>What was more important to her at this moment,
>however, was Jean-Luc's little proclamation

<Tom and Crow are both about to say something>
MIKE: Hmm, I could always use "those special parts"
to build a new laserdisc player.
<Tom and Crow close their mouths.>

>about future breakfasts. It suggested that he believed
>that this new stage in their relationship was a lasting thing,
>and that made Beverly's heart soar.

MIKE: But soon, the old "We'll just pretend this never happened"
speech will start, and Beverly will become bitter and
disillusioned with the cruel universe once more.

> Picard returned, now robed,

ALL: Thank *God!*

>balancing a tray of croissants in one hand, and
>carrying two cups of coffee in the other. He handed them off to
>his companion,

TOM <sports announcer>: It's a handoff to Crusher!

>and
>crawled back under the covers. They ate and drank in silence
>for a few moments,

>simply enjoying being so close to one another. But Picard had
>something serious he
>wanted to discuss. "Are you happy about what happened last
>night, I mean did you
>really mean it when you said you loved me?" he asked abruptly.

CROW <falsetto>: No, I was kidding, chrome-dome.

> "Surely you must know that the answer to that is yes,
>Jean-Luc," Beverly answered, a bit taken aback by the question.
> "I just needed to be sure, so that I wouldn't make an ass of
>myself now."

ALL: Too late.

> Beverly looked at him without understanding.

MIKE: Nothing new there.

> He continued. "Perhaps this is sudden, but it just seems
>right after all that has
>happened in the last 24 hours. If we have learned anything, it
>should be not to waste the time that we have.

CROW: Uhhhh, then we *should* waste the time we have?

> Besides," he said convincingly, "twenty-odd years

TOM: I thought twenty was an *even* number of years.

>of friendship, especially the last few, should make up for the
>absence of a courtship."

> It was all too wonderful for Beverly to grasp.

<Tom and Crow don't say anything>
MIKE: Very good.

> Jean-Luc, seeing that she still was uncertain of what he was
>leading up to,

CROW: Beverly was uncertain, or the author?

> put their
>coffee cups aside. He took Beverly's left hand into his own
>hands. Kissing her ring
>finger, he said, "I wish I had a ring at my disposal to offer
>you."

MIKE: As well as any real emotion or feeling.

>Jean-Luc could feel
>the shock wave that pulsed through her body.

TOM: They still have defiblerators in the 24th century?

> He made his proposal swiftly and
>sincerely. "I love you Beverly Howard Crusher, and I would be
>honored if you would agree to become my wife."

CROW: Or, you could just become "the captain's woman."
MIKE: You've been reading my copy of "Dark Mirror!"

> It was a wild and impulsive and sudden suggestion, or was it
>really? Beverly did not care

TOM: And we don't either!

> to analyze the situation, she just wanted to do what
>felt right in her heart and
>soul. "Yes," she answered, almost weeping with happiness and
>surprise. Surprise
>not only at the suddenness of the offer, but also at the ease
>and quickness with which she accepted.

MIKE: I'm surprised there doing anything quickly in this fanfic.

> Jean-Luc wiped his brow, and let out a dramatic sigh of
>relief.

TOM: Showing off your Shakespeare company training again, huh?

> A sense of humor
>too, would there be no end to Jean-Luc's hidden qualities?

CROW: He can also make a great bratwurst sandwich!

>Beverly grinned in
>response, as she pulled him down on top of her. They made love
>this time with the
>realization that they had forever ahead of them.

TOM: Meanwhile in sickbay...
CROW <doctor>: That tooth has to come out. Unfortunately, the
cabinet where we keep the novicane is locked, and only
the deceased Dr. Crusher knows where the key is. We're
all out of cotton, so I can't plug my ears to not hear your
screaming. To fix this, I'm going to cut out your
vocal cords.
MIKE: Just how much of Dr. Forrester's personality *do* you have?

> Chapter 11

TOM: Wasn't that Orion Pictures' last movie?

> Picard had called this senior staff meeting yesterday. They
>were less than two
>hours from the starbase, and the staff was supposed to be
>discussing their final reports to starfleet.

CROW: They all agreed: this "Silence" guy wasn't working out.

> But the captain was uncharacteristically
>late. Everyone else was
>present and accounted for, and extremely worried about their
>absent leader.

MIKE: I hope he hasn't O.D.ed on mynoxidyl.

> Deanna was the most troubled,

TOM: Well, psychiatry is a tough job.
CROW: Especially on a ship with *these* basket cases.

> for she had the added problem of still
>trying to figure out
>where all of these exuberant emotions she sensed were coming
>from. There was a
>presence on this ship that felt familiar, but she kept telling
>herself that she was just projecting, and what she sensed was
>mere wishful thinking.

TOM <falsetto>: The fanfic's not over yet, damn it.

> Picard entered the observation lounge. 'He is far too
>happy,'
>thought Deanna. 'I hope he has not snapped from the strain.'

MIKE <falsetto>: Darn, that means Geordi's won the betting
pool. I gave him two more days.

> "Good morning everyone," Picard said chipperly, unable to
>feign sadness. Sensing
>that he would be unable to carry on the charade for any length
>of time, he opted simply to let them in on his secret.

CROW: I was born Jean <pronounced Gene> Picard!

>"I have a wonderful
>surprise for all of you," he
>said moving to the entrance. The doors parted to reveal Beverly
>Crusher.

TOM: Wearing the latest by Calvin Klein.
MIKE & CROW: Oooooh. Ahhhhh.

> First there was silence,

MIKE: Silence jumped at the chance to meat the famous Dr.
Crusher.
TOM: Silence was a little sore though, since he was no longer
needed in Medical.
CROW: Silence was always first in line. Take take take take
take!

> and then there was mass confusion.

ALL: WHAT *IS* THIS CRAP?!?!??!?

>Geordi was tapping
>his visor, sure this was a malfunction of some sort.

CROW: No, it's a real fanfic, unfortunately.

>Everyone spoke at once.

<Mike and the 'Bots each make a hysterical joke, but
you can't hear them because they are all speaking at once>

>Everyone except Riker. He had sunk back into his chair, his
>face a pasty white, and his eyes as big as saucers.

MIKE <shocked>: Riker is a zombie!
'BOTS: Your point being?

>Beverly moved into the room, as Data could finally be
>heard clearly over the din. "Sir, how can this be possible?
>The odds of Dr. Crusher surviving such a fall are nonexistent.

TOM: Hey. Data *didn't* calculate to the ninth decimal point.

>This can not be."
> Picard waived him off,

CROW <W.C. Fields>: Go away, kid, ya bother me.

>and said the one thing that explained everything in an instant.

ALL: Sampo!

> "It was Q."

MIKE: Close enough.

> At the same moment that the teary-eyed Betazoid threw her
>arms around the
>smiling doctor, Geordi remarked, "Well I'll be. I never thought
>that character would do anything *nice*."

MIKE: Hey, he *did* turn Gypsy into a human.
'BOTS: You think that's *nice*?

> Worf grumbled at that, but he made a point in his head

CROW: But he already has a *dozen* points on his head.

>not to growl at Q the next
>time he appeared. He was far too excited to see his friend back
>amongst the living.
>He racked his brain for a Klingon ceremony that would
>appropriately commemorate this event.

TOM <Worf>: Drink mass quantites of alcohol. Okay!

> Beverly peeled Deanna off her, and planted a kiss on her
>friend's cheek. She then
>moved to Riker, who just sat there staring at her in disbelief.

CROW <stupid voice>: Duh, I like Jell-O.

>"It's all right Will, I am
>really here," she said as she touched his hand.

MIKE: Woah! Again, gentle pressue!

> "And I'm sorry that you had to watch me fall,

CROW: Wish she'd apologize to *us*!

> but everything is going to be fine now."

TOM <Burgess Merdith>:There's plenty of time now, plenty of time...
CROW: Just don't break your glasses and go insane.

> Fine was right.

CROW: Who?
MIKE: I think that's Silence's first name.
TOM: So Fine was right? New guys think they know it all.
MIKE: I resemble that remark.

> Feelings of joy, relief, and absolution filled Riker all at >once.

MIKE <Riker>: MTV is going to rebroadcast "My So-Called Life!"

> He leapt up and hugged Beverly so tightly, that he nearly broke
>her ribs.

CROW <falsetto>: Ow! Haven't you already done enough to me?

>He let go, let out a whoop,

ALL: Ewwwww!
TOM <Riker>: Ooops. Don't worry, I'll get the sawdust.

> and then hugged her all over again.
> "Number One, I have got another surprise for you," Picard
>interjected.

CROW: Soylent Green is made of Mr. B Natural!

>"I am taking
>a short leave of absence, so you will be enjoying the comforts
>of the center chair for a few weeks."

TOM <Picard>: 'Though you may want to get the seat Scotch
Guarded.

> Will, along with everyone else, looked confused. He just
>stared at Picard blankly.

MIKE <Riker>: Duh... Me get comfy chair?

>Beverly, meanwhile, had moved back over to Jean-Luc, and he had
>affectionately
>placed his arm around her waist. Everybody was so distracted
>and excited that it
>took them a moment to notice this tender gesture between them.
> Picard carried on,

CROW: Oh, quit carrying on, Picard and.... carry on.

once he knew they had gotten people's
>attention. "Will, Beverly
>and I would be honored if, as your first duty as acting captain,
>you married us."

TOM <Riker>: What? Jean-Luc, I'm flattered. but...
CROW <Picard> I meant perform the ceremony.

> The *acting captain's* eyes lit up,

MIKE: Just like in "Three Ninjas!"

>as the room was again filled with chaos. This
>time, however, the chaos was that of a flood of cheers and
>congratulations. By the
>time they had reached the starbase, things had calmed down a bit
>on the Enterprise.

TOM: A quick trip to Ten-Forward and everyone was mellow.

>Word of Dr. Crusher's return had already raced through the ship,
>followed
>immediately by news of the engagement of the CMO

TOM: Crunchy Munchy Orange?
MIKE: Cool Mellow Orangatang?
CROW: Clueless Moronic Officer?

>to the captain. And the
>Romulan prisoner had been turned over to starfleet command,
>which had determined
>that there was nothing especially nefarious about his arrival in
>Federation space.

MIKE: But Starfleet executed him anyway.

>Now the crew was free to get down to the business at hand.
> Q surveyed the scene incognito. He watched as Geordi helped
>Guinan hang wedding decorations in ten forward.

TOM <reading>: It will never last. Give it one year tops.

>He spied on Data as he brushed up on his
>dancing skills on the holodeck, eager to show his teacher, at
>her wedding reception, the new steps he had learned.

MIKE: Data, I don't think the Lambada is appropriate for a
wedding.

>Q then dropped in on Deanna, who was in the
>arboretum assembling the perfect bouquet for Beverly.

CROW: Lilies! Perfect!

>He laughed as he watched
>Will Riker

MIKE: Well, Riker is always good for a cheap laugh.

>rehearse the wedding ceremony over and over in front
>of his mirror.

CROW: He was used to doing other things in front of the mirror.

> And of course, *Microbrain*

TOM: Bill Gates?

> was terribly amusing, with his attempts to
>get his ceremonial sash to hang just right

>on his dreaded dress uniform. Finally, Q
>peeked in on Beverly
>and Jean-Luc. He cringed as he watched them happily peruse the
>star charts, in
>search of the perfect honeymoon spot in this star system.

CROW: Hmm. The Bates Motel looks good.

> Q wasn't sure which sickened him more,

TOM: _Fist of the North Star_ or _Vampire Hunter D_.
CROW: _North Star_! Made me toss my RAM chips!
MIKE: _Hunter D_! Turned me off V-8 for life!

>humans when they were happy, or humans when
>they were in
>mourning. Either way though, he had to admit they were
>interesting.

MIKE: Damn shame Star Trek fanfics aren't.
CROW: Let's roll, guys.

<SOL>

MIKE: The two of you are acting like little children. Doing all
this competition to "win my love" is very juvenile. I
certainly would't want to love somebody who acts so violent
and uninhibited. I think I've lost quite a lot of respect
for both of you with this behavior!

GYPSY & NUVEENA: But, Mike!

MIKE: No buts! I want you two to apologize to each other.

GYPSY & NUVEENA <like Tom and Crow>: We're sorry.

CROW <excited>: Well, now that they've apologized, let's hose
'em off!

TOM <excited>: Yeah, yeah, YEAH!!!

GYPSY & NUVEENA: Eeek! Cold! Cold!

MIKE: ARRRGGHHHH!!!! I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!!!!!

CROW: Gee, he looks very upset.

TOM: I hope the fanfic wasn't too much for him.

CROW: Nah, he'd only act like that if it was a Ratliff fanfic.
It's you two!

GYPSY & NUVEENA: Us?

CROW: Yes, you! The both of you have driven Mike crazy.
Proof that women are nothing but trouble.

NUVEENA: But I didn't want to hurt him!

GYPSY: Me neither. I couldn't stand it if Mike suffered because
of me.

TOM: Well, you have. Now there's only one nobel thing for the two
of you to do, and I think you both know what that is.

GYPSY & NUVEENA: Q?

TOM: Sheesh! I'm gonna need new corneas if he keeps that up.

Q: How may I serve you, oh woman of tommorrow,
and woman of steel made flesh?

GYPSY: Q, I would like to become a robot again.

NUVEENA: Q, I would like to leave here.

Q <smug>: Oh, really?

CROW: Of course really! Now change Gypsy back and get
Future Girl out of here!

Q: Watch your beak with me, Robot. Very well, since your
intentions are noble and your hearts pure, I shall grant
you your wishes. <aside, to bots> Sheesh, giving up
their fondest wishes in the name of love. What fools
these mortals be.

TOM: Tell me about it.

GYPSY: Hey! I'm back to being a robot. Well, time to run the
Satellite and obsess over Richard Baseheart again.

Q: Well, I've done my part. I hope you two have learned an
important lesson in this.

CROW: There's a lesson?

TOM: Nobody told me there would be a moral to this story.

Q <sighs>: You two have so far to go.

CROW <sarcastic>: Oh, great, the omnipotent being says
something *cryptic*. How _original_.

MIKE <off> Gypsy? Nuveena?

Q: Whoops! I'm outta here! <vanishes>

MIKE: Gypsy? Nuveena? I want to say I'm sorry!

TOM: You're too late Mike.

CROW: Yep! Gypsy and Nuveena decided they both
love you so much, they couldn't bare for you
to have to choose between them.

TOM: So Q turned Gypsy back into a robot and returned
Nuveena to the future.

MIKE: D'OH!!!

TOM: Gee. he doesn't look to thrilled that two beautful
women would make such a sacrifice for him.

CROW: Humans. Who can figure them? What do you
think, sirs?

PUCK <waving his head around>: You can't do this to me! I was
voted by Rolling Stone reader the best character on the
Real World!

DR. F: Really? Too bad I don't read Rolling Stone. Well, before we
go I have to do little removal from Puck here. It seems I got
a little note from Mr. B Natural and s/he wants his/her costume
back. Too bad I used it as a component for the green in the
Soylent Green. The SOYbeans and LENTils didn't give it the
right color. Well, in order to get it out...

<Dr. Forrester revvs up the chain-saw.>

PUCK: ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! Oh, what I wouldn't give for
a chance to beg my former roomates for forgiveness. I was
such a fool, and now I'm going to be eviserated by a mad
scientist.

DR. F.: Oh, quit the death-bed recantment and push the button,
Puck!

PUCK <normal>: Oh, sure.

\ /
\ /
--- o ---
/ \
/ \

Mystery Science Theater 3000 and all characters herein are
property of Best Brains Inc. and HBO Downtown Productions.
The characters in Star Trek are copywrite Paramount Inc.
This MiSTing is not a personal attack on Allison Martens.
Thanks to Clayton Hodge for proofreading this MiSTing for
me, and other MiSting authors for giving me something to
learn from. Thanks to MiSTies from coast to coast
and the authors of the first amendment. This was my
first MiSTings, so flamers, keep in mind I burn easily.
Send comments to SurFa...@aol.com.

Robert A. Coakley

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