MiSTed - "Stephen Ratliff and the Lost Fanfics of ASCEML" (1/2)
Bill Livingston
Crow & Tom Servo look on skeptically (I know, it's hard to prove
robots can look skeptical, but work with me here)]
Mike: Okay, I think I've finally got them all synched up.
Crow: I just don't see what the big deal is, Mike.
Mike: I'm carving out a slice of on-line real estate for myself, Crow.
Tom: The last time you tried something like this, the whole dot.com bubble
burst like last year's muskmelon.
Mike: Purest coincidence. [notices us] Oh hey all. Mike Nelson here on the
Satellite of Love, along with Crow & Tom Servo, who are here to watch
me begin the process of leaving my mark on the series of tubes we like
to call the internet.
Crow: Okay, I can see the little pieces, but I still don't grok the big
picture, Mike. Explain it to me again so one of us can have a sanity
check.
Mike: It's simple. I've signed up for journals and blogs on pretty much every
host out there, and I plan to use my presence to become a leading shaper
of thought and opinion.
Tom: Yeah, but as "MikeyPundit"?
Mike: I've seen worse!
Crow: Wait, so you've got all these sites, but how're ya gonna keep 'em all
up to date?
Mike: I downloaded this doohicky that lets me post to multiple set-ups. That
way, I can update "MikeyPundit" on LivelyJournal, NuttyJournal,
BestestJournal, PushWord, Blog-a-Splotch, and the others all at once.
Tom: [suspiciously] Hey, how'd you manage to pay for all this, anywho?
Mike: I found one credit card of mine you hadn't maxed out.
Tom: I missed one?! Aw, man!
Mike: Never mind that now, though. [suspends hands over the keyboard like a
concert pianist] "MikeyPundit" is about to go live, and the world will
never be the same!
Crow: Are we ready for the new world order?
Tom: As ready as we'll ever be, I guess. Go ahead, Nelson, dazzle us with
your wit and insight.
Crow: Yeah, c'mon, seize control of the ether!
Bots: That's it Mike! You can do it! Let's see you go! Etc.
[Mike simply sits there with his hands in the air, his smile slowly glazing
over into a "deer in the headlight" look. Finally, after tortuous seconds,
he taps out his first momentous message.]
Crow: What's it say? What's it say?
Tom: [reading over Mike's shoulder] It says - "Marshmallows are nummy."
[Pause]
Tom: Wow, I bet those bumpkins at "Powerline" and "DailyKos" are quivering in
their boots right now.
Crow: Yep, just countin' the days till you take over.
Mike: [Facepalms] Guys...
Crow: And you couldn't have picked a subject more fraught with partisan
acrimony!
Tom: It won't be long before you have the whole nation polarized.
Mike: C'mon, it's just first-time jitters!
[Light flash]
Crow: You could've at least spelled it "Marsh-MALLOW" instead of "MELLOW".
Tom: Well save it for later. It's Fire Dog Pearl and the Barking Moonbats.
[CASTLE FORRESTER - The entire floor of the castle is covered in - well, junk,
pretty much. Pearl is standing in the middle of it all with a clipboard as
Brain Guy and Bobo lug stuff back and forth.]
Bobo: What about this? [Shows Pearl a bottle of something]
Pearl: Oh, that. That's the DNA retrovirus thingy I was working on. Just
stick it in the pile to go to the attic.
Bobo: The one with the nuclear tricycle?
Pearl: No no no, that's the one for those charity dinks to come get! The
attic pile has the stack of old Wings 45s. If you send the retrovirus
to the charity dinks, it'll turn 'em all into cocker spaniels, and
cocker spaniels can't write me a tax receipt.
Bob: So sorry, Lawgiver, just asking.
Pearl: Well, I'm just telling, so go! [Bobo wanders off] Some simians. [To
SOL] Wie gehts, space clods. As you can tell from the gawdawful mess,
we're doing a little long-overdue castle-cleaning, and believe you me, I
got years of abandoned experiments, leftover apparatii, and just plain
junk down here that needs clearing out. Some of this crap was even
Clay's, and I ain't kidding when I say crap - I mean, look at this!
[holds up a box labeled "JOHNNY LONG-TORSO"] The diseased yutz was
hoarding doll parts! Some days I'm glad I offed the little twerp.
[SOL]
Mike: So, uh, you gonna have a garage sale?
Tom: Yeah, cuz Mike need marshmallows.
Mike: Hey!
[CF]
Pearl: Okay, let's pretend I understand that but still don't care. The reason
I'm calling is while scrubbing out the nuclear waste tanks, Monkeyman
ran across these. [holds up a couple of glowing 3.5 inch disks]
[SoL]
Mike: Wow! Are they blueprints for a cheap, clean power source?
Crow: The operating system for SkyNet?
Tom: Actual good reviews for "Daddy Day Camp"?
[CF]
Pearl: Hah! *You* wish, *I* wish, and what the hell *you* been smoking? No,
what I hold here in my hands are a couple of unreleased Stephen Ratliff
stories!
[SOL]
All: THE LOST RATLIFF FILES?!?
Mike: Sufferin' Succotash!
Crow: Sockamagee!
Tom: Suh-weet Niblets!
[Mike & Crow stare at Tom]
Tom: What? So I like to watch an occasional "Hannah Montana".
Mike: Yeah, hold that thought. Look, Pearl, you *do* know that...
[CF]
Pearl: [waves hand dismissively] Yeahyeahyeah, you ain't ascared of no
Ratliff no more - whoop-ti-do and all that crap. But I don't want these
things around here - I'm trying to class up the joint! And I doubt I'll
get bupkis from the charity dinks for them. So I'm sending them up just
because I want to irritate you. Besides, one of them involves a singing
starship captain, so who knows - I may get lucky and drive you three
nuts anywho.
[Brain Guy trudges in, dragging a huge garbage sack full of something]
Observer: *oof* Pearl, what do you want done with these?
Pearl: [wrinkles nose] Ugh! Geez Louise, Pasteface, what the hell's that
unholy stench?
Observer: It's this huge sack full of, if I understand your primitive Earth
taxonomies correctly, decomposing members of the species Musa Acuminata.
Pearl: Well then we - huh?
Observer: They're rotten bananas.
Pearl: Whuff! Yuck, where were they?
Observer: Tucked under a stairwell in the lower sub-basement. I imagine the
smell is quite awful, although since my body is merely a wretched
simulacrum and not truly a physical form, I personally can't smell them.
Pearl: [Holding nose] Yay vor you. Look, zend theze imbeziles thad Ratlivv
stuff, I'm gonna go havv a tock wivv Bobo! [stalks off]
Observer: Very well, I'll simply leave them here till you get back. [To
screen] Hello there, gentlebeings. Well, brace yourselves, here they
come. [Does that doodlydoodlydoodly thing] Have fun. [sniffs the inside
of the bag again.] Hmm. Interesting.
[SOL]
Tom: [reading over Mike's shoulder] Entry two: "My foot aches a little bit."
[Bells, whistles, alarrums, etc.]
All: OH NO!!! WE GOT DOUBLE SECRET RATLIFF SIGN!!!!!
[6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O
[All enter]
Crow: I don't think you thought your cunning plan all the way through, Mike.
Mike: It's just a slump.
>From stephen...@earthlink.net Sun Dec 31 21:19:16 2006
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:89849
Tom: How do you moderate erotica?
Crow: All the really dirty words are in Pig-Latin.
>Path: sn-us!sn-feed-sjc-01!sn-xt-sjc-10!sn-xt-sjc-01!sn-xt-sjc-13!
>supernews.com!newshub.sdsu.edu!
Mike: Meet the New Shub! Same as the Old Shub!
> postnews.google.com!news3.google.com!
>border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!local01.nntp.dca.giganews.com!
>nntp.io.com!
Tom: Hey, the Guardians of the universe have a news server.
Crow: That'd be "Oa", Servo, not "Io".
Tom: Oh, too bad. I was looking forward to alt.omnipotent.little.baldies and
soc.silly-weaknesses.yellow.
> news.io.com.POSTED!not-for-mail
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2006 23:55:01 -0600
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated
>Approved: as...@earthlink.net
>Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut
Crow: Looks like the TrekSmut got all organized.
Mike: Yep. In fact, TrekSmutters Local 501 went out on strike in support of
the WGA.
>Sender: as...@earthlink.net
>Message-ID: <6.1.2.0.2.200612...@mail.trekiverse.org>
>From: Stephen aka Old Man ASC
Tom: [geezer] Quit writing so loud, ya durn kids! And stay off my lawn!
> <stephen...@earthlink.net>
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Mailing-List: list ASC...@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML...@yahoogroups.com
>Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2006 22: 19:16 -0500
>Subject: NEW TNG All Wet [PG-13] (Marrissa Stories)
Crow: "All Wet" and "Marrissa Stories" - never has there been a more apt
conjunction of phraseology.
>Content-Type: text/plain;
Mike: I like text best when it's plain.
Tom: Speak for yourself Nelson, I like my text hot & spicy, with chili powder.
Crow: I hanker for text with the hearty tang of Worcestershire Sauce.
> charset=US-ASCII
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
>Lines: 197
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218
Mike: And your Posting Hostess, Mrs. 209.198.142.218, also known as "Jocelyn".
>X-Trace: sv3-R71SnVgZjcGNooMj7vELHclbOEztw6K3jIxMo1M436q/
>bjbgddoR1VWj+miHmh1qVCW6LzUzrWb3Eqn!K2d4XAxdsGL9pCjFbLmaJg9s51xbH6PClLRza6y/
>HR597eImn187hvts6iqFWTV15ag9w0mTzOpu!iw86H23nroXkokHKFn56
Crow: Aw man!
Tom: What?
Crow: I traced that, and all I got was this weird-looking blob.
Mike: What were you hoping for?
Crow: I thought it'd be a rendition of "Guernica". Or at least a bunny.
>X-Complaints-To: ab...@io.com
>X-DMCA-Complaints-To: ab...@io.com
>X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info:
Crow: And the RIAA even has its slimy fingers in the Marrissa saga.
> Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers
>X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint
>properly
Mike: We'll be forced to process it improperly, by dancing a polka around it,
covering it in sauerkraut and mailing it to a K-Mart in New Zealand.
>X-Postfilter: 1.3.32
>
>Okay ... I just barely finished this one on time.
Tom: [Ratliff] I almost allowed some of you out there to retain your sanity
and dignity. Boy, that was a close call, huh?
> I think it qualifies for
>the Wetfest,
Crow: The huh? The what?
Tom: It's a sopping-wet festival of savings at MENARD'S!
> which would actually make it my first "fest" qualifying story.
>
Mike: Or at the very least, his wettest story ever.
>Title: All Wet or Why Marrissa Should Never Repair Anything.
Tom: Because she'll do it wrong and then belittle and/or injure you if you try
to correct her?
Mike: Tom! Spoilers!
Tom: Oops, sorry.
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories Short
Crow: Unsurprisingly, she has a Napoleon complex.
>Rating: PG-13, for wet activities on the Bridge
Tom: The "Counselor Troi Dunking Booth" was now the ship's most popular
attraction.
>Codes: R/T, Wetfest
Mike: Hey, I know an R.T. Wetfest. Meanest lawyer in Eau Claire.
>Summary: It was just one Alpha Shift,
Crow: [Don LaFontaine] But it would take one woman, trapped in a world she
never made, to bring justice back to that shift!
> but Marrissa's shift in Engineering
>was going to be a disaster, for her, La Forge, Counselor Troi, and Will Riker.
>
Tom: And oddly enough, Anderson Cooper.
>:
Crow: Man, that's one seriously depressed emoticon.
>
>"Ensign Marrissa Amber Picard, reporting as ordered, sir," Marrissa said
>upon entering Engineering.
Mike: The huge room immediately cleared of personnel, and even the anti-matter
seemed to glow faintly dimmer.
> The young girl was in her usual command reds,
Crow: [Marrissa] Dangit, the blood of my enemies just won't come out!
>her hair up in a pony tail, everything exactly in place per regulations.
>
>
Mike: Dover in Delaware?
Tom: Yep.
Mike: Mona Lisa in the Louvre?
Crow: Right.
Mike: Pickles in your grocer's deli section?
Tom: You betcha.
Mike: $43.78 in my checking account?
Crow: More or less.
Mike: All right then, let's go.
>La Forge found her way too young, but he had no room to complain,
Mike: Engineering was so small, even the nanites were hunchbacked!
> as his
>own department had provided several young prodigies with entry into Star
>Fleet, in particular Wesley Crusher,
Tom: Oh thanks a heap there, *Geordi*!
Mike: Yeah, but if wasn't for Wesley, we wouldn't have Wil's blog.
Tom: Hmm - okay, we'll call it a wash.
> and his current successor in the young
>Engineering Genius Slot, Clara Sutter.
Crow: A.K.A, Junior Vice-Tyrant.
> Marrissa wasn't a candidate for
>that slot,
Mike: But she was considering leaving "Law & Order" to make a run for it.
> according to rumor she was the anti-Engineer.
Mike: She had to have less power?
Crow: She lacked any desire whatsoever to drive a locomotive?
Tom: She absolutely refused to bring bananas for lunch?
> Clara, on the
>other hand, like Wesley before her, had some talent at the helm.
Tom: Specifically, she could juggle puppies.
> So today,
>Clara was at the helm, and he had Marrissa.
>
Mike: Geordi was trying to work out a three-way trade that would get Data in
Engineering and send Marrissa to the Miami Dolphins.
>"Right," La Forge replied. "We'll be starting with some simple
>familiarization routines today.
Crow: [LaForge] Hi. I'm Geordi.
> Ensign Gomez.
Tom: [Gomez Addams] LaForge?!? Tish, that's French!
> Show Miss Picard what we
>discussed earlier."
>
Crow: [Gomez] You mean the thing where I wear the latex maid outfit and we...
Tom: [LaForge] **AHEM!!** Nonono, the, uh, the *engineering* thing!
>La Forge then walked away to personally handle some repairs to the ODN near
>cabin 0801. It would be two hours before he returned to Engineering.
>
>
Crow: This sounds like the set-up to a 24th Century "Three Stooges" short.
>
>On the Bridge of the Enterprise-D, Commander Riker was in the center seat,
Mike: Snoring like a rabid buzzsaw.
>with the good Counselor next to him.
Tom: The evil Counselor was sitting on his shoulder, urging him to throw
spitballs at Barclay.
> Captain Picard was unfortunately
>unavailable for the day, having decided that the current survey mission was
Crow: Even duller than usual.
>a good enough excuse to spend a little time playing Dixon Hill.
Mike: And the final score there is Picard 38, Dixon Hill 24.
>Doctor Crusher had joined him, much to the surprise of the senior staff.
Tom: They hadn't been on speaking terms since Bev had caught him with
that holographic Allyson Hannigan.
>Worf had tactical, with Data at Ops, and Clara Sutter at the Helm.
Crow: And Chipper Jones covering Third.
> For Alpha Shift,
>it had been quite quiet.
>
Tom: Oooh, a test of homophone mastery.
Mike: And he passed it.
Crow: Or should we say he "past" it?
Mike: Actually - no. No, we shouldn't.
>"So, Deanna, what convince Beverly to join the Captain's little detective
>story?" Riker asked,
Tom: [Troi] A direct order. Plus a security detail.
> his hands firmly on the Captain's chair's armrests.
>
Mike: He's afraid she's gonna try and drive again.
>"Beverly says he tricked her into it," Troi replied. "She says he had to
>know that she was going to recommend he spend more time relaxing.
Tom: So he immediately started a war with the Borg just to avoid dealing
with it.
>I understand that the Captain offered several activities, all of which he
>had to know she'd shoot down as not sufficiently relaxing,
Mike: [Picard] Free-range cobra ranching?
Crow: [Beverly] No.
Mike: [Picard] Disarming Photon Mines one-handed?
Crow: [Beverly] No.
Mike: [Picard] Writing a 500-page history of the Prime Directive?
Crow: [Beverly] No.
Mike: [Picard] Checking Worf for ticks?
Crow: [Beverly] Not aga- I mean, no!
> before suggesting a
>Dixon Hill Mystery with the Ship's Doctor. She was completely surprised
>when he handed her the red, high heeled shoes.
Crow: Especially since they were in Q's size.
> Is it getting humid in here?"
>
>
Tom: o/` It's gettin' humid in herrrrrre, so wring out all your clothes! o/`
>Marrissa turned over to Ensign Gomez,
Tom: Then they danced the Mamushka!
> having finished her task of carefully
>replacing chips in the Enterprise's environmental system man
>controls.
Crow: Man contr- Oh, *that's* how they do it.
Mike: Trust me, Crow, they don't need a computer.
> "I'm done."
>
Tom: [Jim Rome] Rack me! I am out!
>Gomez quickly scanned the chips,
Mike: They were all Salt and Vinegar.
> finding all of them in order, and closed
>the panel. She then turned to Marrissa, and said,
Crow: [Gomez] Well, time for a coffee break.
Tom: [Marrissa] But we've only been on the job 10 minutes.
Crow: Well, ya can't be too careful, I always say. Bearclaw?
> "Okay, the next item on
>our list is a H2O distribution junction replacement.
Mike: Hey, I loved that album - it had "Maneater" and "One on One" and...
Tom: Uh, Mike, your Eighties is showing again.
> We'll be taking the
>Jefferies tubes up above Deck 8 and doing some plumbing.
Tom: [Gomez] Commander Liddy will meet us there to help us break into the
USS Watergate.
> Chief Howser,
Crow: OK, I think Stephen's openly taunting us now.
Tom: So what *would* NPH do?
Mike: Not be in this story, I imagine.
>I assume the pipe is already there?"
>
>"Yes sir!"
>
Crow: So put this in it and smoke it.
>
>
>Up on the bridge, Counselor Troi pulled her uniform away from her body.
Crow: And across the globe, thousands of fanboys seize up and have to be
forcibly revived.
>It was definitely humid on the bridge. Way too humid.
Tom: Sounds like the humidity level is up.
Mike: Indications are that it is, yes.
Crow: It's not the heat, then?
Mike: Nope, the humidity.
> "Computer, what is the
>humidity level on the bridge?"
>
Tom: [Computer] Humidity level is currently at "Way Too".
>"Humidity level on the Bridge is at .89 and rising," the Computer
>responded.
Mike: Wow, that's up.
Crow: Way too up.
> "Humidity is being adjusted to default settings."
>
Crow: It's so humid on the bridge, even the mold is getting moldy.
>"Riker to Engineering," Riker said, exchanging a look with Troi. This was
>not normal.
>
Tom: In fact, it was humid.
Mike: .89 humid.
Crow: Way too humid.
[Pause]
Mike: Thus endeth the Humidity sketch.
Tom: *sniff* I'll miss you, humidity sketch.
Crow: Yeah, of all our sketches, you were the humidest.
>
>
>Lieutenant Commander La Forge looked around Engineering to decide who he
>should assign to handle the latest problem.
Tom: [LaForge] Hmmm, who haven't I pinned my general incompetence on yet?
> It was raining on the
>bridge.
Mike: And no one brought an umbrella on-shift.
Crow: Well, the forecast for the bridge *had* been just partly cloudy
and breezy.
> Much worse, something had apparently been added to the atmosphere
>of the bridge that was causing uniforms to dissolve.
[All giggle]
Crow: It's called "Essence of T'Pol".
Mike: Well, give him credit, guys, he's one step beyond "Ratliff Gas".
Tom: I'm not sure "Clothes-Fall-Off Juice" is such a great leap forward.
> While Ensigns Gomez
>and Picard had just recently returned from fixing the pipes above deck 8,
>he didn't want to send them.
>
Crow: They'd handled the last naked bridge emergency.
>"Barclay, see if you can do something about the raining on the Bridge," La
>Forge ordered.
Tom: But it was too late. Atlanta had already filed suit claiming all of the
water on the Bridge.
> "Gomez, take over Impulse Systems and give Marrissa a good
>overview while you're at it."
>
Mike: [Gomez] Sorry sir, I don't swing that way.
>As the two walked passed
Tom: Oh. Well, it's still one for two.
Crow: Yeah, better average than he used to have.
> Lieutenant Johnson who was manning the master
>systems monitor, it started smoking.
>
>
Crow: [Jim Carrey] It was sah-MOOOOOOOOOOKIN'!!!
Mike: *Again* with the Jim Carrey thing?
Crow: Just for you guys.
Tom: Seek help soon, Crow.
>
>Meanwhile on the bridge, Counselor Troi had decided that since it was
>raining on the bridge, and everyone was naked,
Crow: Just in case you missed all the subtle clues.
> it she might as well just
>sit on Will's lap.
Mike: And suddenly, it's cheesy Seventies porn.
[Tom starts doing "bwow-chicka-bwow-bwow" music]
Crow: [Basso] Pizza delivery, ma'am. Would you like to take off all of
your clothes and sit on my lap while I get your "breadsticks"?
> He could at least hold her in place,
Mike: It was the only thing he was good at, but he was *really* good at it.
> as it seemed that
>the characteristic lag of the inertial compensator had increased,
Crow: And since they're traveling at about a gazillion miles per second,
they were all splatted across the helm as a fine paste.
Tom: A highly humid paste.
Crow: Well, yeah.
> resulting
>in several of the naked officers manning the bridge to slide around a bit.
>
Crow: USS Skidmark, ahoy!
>Poor Clara, who had the misfortune to be manning tactical when it had
>started to rain had slid down one side or the other of the bridge five
>times,
Mike: It was Enterprise's annual "Sit on the Floor of the Bridge Day".
Tom: Oooh, bad timing.
> before Will had switched her back to CONN. Tactical control was
>now being handled through the Ops console.
Crow: Plus, all dry cleaning was being routed through astrophysics.
> Ensign Gilliland had her own
>problems, there, as her attempts at keeping the console readable kept
>changing her menus.
>
Mike: [Gilliland] What's this - "Sardine and Cinnamon Paninis"?
>"Deanna, would you please stop squirming."
>
Crow: ["Squirm" hick] You gon' be the wormface now!
>
>
>Captain Jean-Luc Picard had been enjoying some time alone in his
>quarters.
Mike: [Picard] Good God, yap yap yap! If I'd had to listen to all
those whining pinheads five more minutes, I'd have grabbed
a phaser and *whammo*!
> Since he had adopted Marrissa, four months ago, that hadn't
>occurred often.
Tom: She kept mumbling plans for galactic domination in her sleep.
> Marrissa was a good girl,
Crow: Crazy 'bout Elvis.
Tom: Loves horses, and her boyfriend too.
> who was quite
>intelligent. She'd spent some time
Mike: Did a nickel at Sing-Sing.
> over the years learning about the
>various fields that her then mentor, now adopted father, enjoyed.
Crow: Ah, the suck-up fu is strong in this one!
>She could hold her own in a conversation
Tom: In fact, she'd been disciplined for holding her own in public three
times already.
> on most things, despite her only been
>twelve years old.
Mike: Oh, that's right, this is still unreality.
Crow: Thanks for the reminder there, Stephen.
> Still, it was nice to sit, sipping wine,
Tom: Spodee-Odee.
> listening to
>Mozart while reading the latest archeology journals
Crow: "Etruscans still dead, comeback seen as unlikely."
> without being
>interrupted by a half dressed girl who couldn't find her brush.
>
Mike: Oddly, "Half-dressed, brushless girls" actually ranked fourth on the
list of Starfleet annoyances, right behind "Being Assimilated",
"the gruesome stench coming out of xenozoology" and Rick Berman.
>The moment Jean-Luc stepped out into the corridor, he slipped and fell on
>the wet carpet, landing on his behind.
Tom: The shot of it won 100,000 Fake Dollars on "Federation's Funniest Home
Videos".
> A little bit down the corridor, he
>could see water pouring from a ceiling maintenance panel.
Crow: He named it "Enterprise Falls" and claimed it for France.
> There was a good
>inch of standing water through the center of the corridor, already.
Mike: And five inches of sitting water, and another two inches of water
that was still asleep in bed.
>He shivered a bit. It was getting cold in the corridor too.
Crow: But sadly, not humid at all.
>"Picard to Engineering."
>
>"La Forge." Something was going wrong in Engineering.
Tom: And something is wrong on Saturn 3!
> What ever the
>problem was it was not life threatening,
Crow: It was kinda dull, actually.
> but was enough to cause many
>members of the crew to call Engineering.
Mike: Where they were immediately put on hold.
> The Captain could tell that much
>just from La Forge's tone.
>
Tom: This is the weekly test of the Emergency LaForgecasting System.
>"There is a water leak on deck 8 near my quarters, and the temperature is
>dropping. What is going on down there?"
>
Crow: They're getting ready to test out those new Fleet-issued Zambonis.
>"Lights are out on Deck 7, it's raining on the Bridge,
Tom: Hallelujah!
> which has apparently
>left them in Betazed Wedding attire.
Crow: Empathic cummerbunds?
> A five cent fuse has burnt out in the
>master situation table."
Tom: And I don't feel so good myself.
> Captain Picard heard a crash from over the comm
>system.
Mike: Commander Fibber McGee makes an appearance.
> "Damn! We'll fix the water problem as soon as possible,
>Captain. La Forge out."
>
Crow: Boy, were they surprised when they took too long and the EPA wound up
designating the entire ship as "protected wetlands"!
Tom: Yeah, now they can't even get a drink in 10-Forward without filing an
environmental impact statement.
>
>Lieutenant Commander La Forge rushed over to the warp core, to help move
>the large section of railing that had some how come loose and fallen on
>Ensign Daniel Sutter.
Crow: They should really put some safety railing around their safety railing.
Mike: Commander Thrust LargeBig is reprimanded!
> Up above he could seen Lieutenant Smersh helping
>Ensign Spectre back onto the deck above.
Tom: Making this a moment for deep Bonding.
> Marrissa had grabbed the first
>aid kit,
Mike: Plus whatever else she could get her grubby mitts on.
> and as he and the other officers removed the rail, she stepped in
>and scanned Ensign Sutter.
>
Crow: [Marrissa] Hmm - either this thing's busted, or he's a Class-M planet.
>"Mister Sutter, you're lucky." Marrissa concluded, showing La Forge the
>readings. Sutter had bruised ribs, a sprained left shoulder, and a twisted
>ankle.
>
Mike: Kind of an odd definition of "lucky".
Tom: He's lucky she doesn't just shoot him and go on about her business.
>"Marrissa, help Ensign Sutter get to Sickbay,
Crow: [LaForge] And this time, don't drag him there by his twisted, broken
limbs.
Tom: [Marrissa] Spoilsport!
> It should be the end of Alpha
>Shift by then,
Crow: In fact, it should be the end of *everything* by then!
> so no need to come back her."
>
Mike: [LaForge] Come back him instead.
Tom: Gyah! No "M&M" callbacks!
>By the time Captain Picard reached the turbolift, Deck 8 was iced over.
Mike: So quick! Run out and buy all the bread and milk you can!
>He had practically skated the last few feet.
Crow: He executed a perfect triple-lutz, but the Russian judge still only gave
him a 7-point-8.
Tom: Lousy Commie!
> The turbolift opened revealing
>his daughter, about to exit. "Don't even try to get to our quarters," he
>ordered,
Mike: [Picard] I've ordered the guards to shoot you on sight. That's all
the warning you'll get!
> drawing her back into the turbolift. "Bridge."
>
Crow: Tensions flare as Marrissa steps on Picard's 3 No-Trump bud.
>When the turbolift opened on the Bridge, it was no longer raining there,
>but it was soaking wet.
Tom: Humid, even.
> Adding to the strangeness was the fact that
>everyone was completely naked.
Mike: And stranger still, they were all playing "Scrabble". In Romulan.
> Jean-Luc sloshed his way down towards the
>command area.
Tom: And when we say "sloshed", brother...
Mike [Picard] Cuh-computer! Boozhe, Jim Beam, Hot! Make i'sho! *hic*
> There he found Commander Riker and Counselor Troi
>practically joined in the center seat.
Crow: Immediately, Picard made them the main attractions in his "Freaks of
the Galaxy" sideshow.
> "Commander Riker, there are some
>things that should only be done on your own time."
>
Mike: [Picard] No more writing fanfiction on the bridge!
>"Yes sir," Riker said, turning slightly to address the blushing Marrissa
>behind the Captain. "Ensign Picard,
Crow: [Riker] Breathe a word of this and you're on KP for a century!
> Commander La Forge asked me to inform
>you that your rotation through Engineering is over."
>
Tom: [Riker] So enough with the spinning already!
Crow: [Marrissa] But I haven't turned into Wonder Woman yet!
>"Aye, sir." Marrissa replied. The Captain could tell she was happy about
>the Engineering Rotation being done ...
Mike: [Picard] Hmm, she seems to be relieved not to have to go where she
doesn't want to be. How odd.
> he would have to get the story
>behind that later.
Crow: On VH1's new series, "Behind the Rotation"!
> He was sure that it was supposed to last at least a
>week.
Mike: [Picard] *Anything* to get her out of my hair! Uh, scalp!
> "Captain, permission to relieve Clara so she can put some clothes on?"
>
Tom: [Marrissa] And it better not be that pink sweater I've been looking for!
>"Granted," Jean-Luc said looking around the Bridge. "Clara, you may change
>in the Head,
Crow: [3rd Rock guy] The Big Giant Head!
[All hum "The Girl from Ipanema"]
> then relieve Ensign Janiper at Engineering.
Tom: And make sure his little tiny trees are okay.
> Commander Riker,
>Counselor, I think we need to talk.
Mike: [Picard] And talk and talk and talk and...
> Marrissa, you have the Bridge."
>
>"Aye, sir!"
>
Mike: [Picard] But you have to give it back.
Crow: [Marrissa] Spoilsport!
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>stephenratliffasc earthlink net
>Remove ASC to avoid spam filters
>
Crow: Remove Brain to enjoy story.
>
> ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
> ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages
> can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML.
>
>
>
Tom: So if you wind up there, don't say we didn't warn you.
*** End Part 1 ***