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MSTed: Better the Devil You Know (5/8)

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T-Bone

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Nov 15, 1994, 11:35:40 AM11/15/94
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[SOL. Kate, her back to us, is tinkering with some contraption that we
can't fully see.]

GYPSY: Thanks for everything, Kate. I appreciate the advice and help.
KATE: You're welcome. I'm glad to ... [drops something metallic] Damn! You
know, these flanchions with the grooved grollings ALWAYS roll to where
you can't reach them.
GYPSY: That's okay, I brought you plenty of spares.
KATE: Thanks, Gyps. Shouldn't you be meeting Crow now?
GYPSY: Yes, but it's good to let him wait for a bit. You know, to let him
know who's REALLY in charge.

[Kate and Gypsy laugh.]

KATE: Just be careful, and remember, if you need me, I'm here.
GYPSY: Thanks. Don't wait up.

[Gypsy exits. Kate keeps working on this unseen contraption. After a
moment or two, Servo enters.]

TOM (singing to himself): ... and he cleans my clock.
Yes, my man ... is a - HANDY man.
(speaking now): Oh hi, Kate. You seen Crow?
KATE: No, but he and Gypsy are on their ... [Notices Servo starting to
shake] ... uh, no I haven't seen him.
TOM (sighing): I guess I just have to face it. Crow and I have
incompatible subroutines. I just have to accept the fact that he
prefers ... WOMEN.
KATE (sighing, her shoulders slumping): Tom, there's no reason to get
melodramatic about it. Crow just likes Gypsy, okay? He thought it would
be nice for someone to treat her well, since she hasn't gotten a lot of
attention since Joel left.
TOM: I know, I know. The worst part, really, is that I feel left out.
KATE: The third bot makes the fifth wheel, huh?
TOM: Exactly! They're off doing who-knows-what [minor shudder], Mike is at
the Con, jokers to the left of me, clowns to the right, here I am stuck
in the middle with you.
KATE (sarcasitic): Well, gee, thanks.
TOM: Oh, I didn't mean it that way, Kate. It's just that you're new here,
and you'll be leaving soon, and it's just not the same.
KATE: I know, Tom. That's why I've done this.
TOM: Uh, done what?
KATE: This.

[Kate stands, brushes off her hands, and walks to the far side of the
counter. Standing there is the contraption she was working on: a lavander
version of Tom Servo, though not quite an exact replica.]

TOM (stunned): What the heck is THIS supposed to be?
KATE: Well, I figured that if a janitor could build you four bots and
create all those inventions, a liberal arts major from the University
of Chicago should be able to build you a new friend.
TOM: Wow! Have you tried running him yet?
KATE: He's booting up now.
TOM: He is a rather HANDSOME devil, isn't he? What's his name?
KATE: I was thinking of calling him Chad.
TOM: Chad what?
KATE: Ummmmmm, Chaaaaaad ... Chad N. Mycar.
TOM: Wow, Chad N. Mycar, my own special friend.

[Suddenly Chad springs to life.]

CHAD (sounding eerily like Buddy from TKITH): And just how special AM I,
sweetums?
TOM: Uh, well, uh, ...
CHAD (snuggling up to Tom): So, hon, what makes you tick?
TOM: Well, I have four parallel Pentium ...
CHAD: No, Silly! I mean, what are your interests?
TOM: Oh. I really like music. All kinds, especially jazz and show tunes...
CHAD: Oh, I know what you mean! That Judy Garland was SUCH a genius!
TOM: And, *ahem*, uh, I, uh, (suddenly acting macho) I also like football
and basketball. Love those Golden Gophers, ifyaknowhatImean.
CHAD: Me too.
TOM: Really?
CHAD: Yes, Tom. Ever since I quit smoking, I've really gotten into
athletics. Well, athletes.
TOM (turning to Kate): Hey, New Blood, does he come with any other
personalities? This one makes me all squishy but uncomfortable.
KATE (wielding screwdriver): Sure thing. (Opens up a panel on Chad) Let's
try this one.
CHAD: Squishy is as squishy does, I always sa--

[Chad shakes a bit, then speaks.]

CHAD (speaking now in a female voice): Hi Tom. I'm Chad, but please call me
SeraServo. We're married now, right? I want to have lots of babies, Tom,
I want to hear the pitter-patter of little external drives around the
satellite, because we're married now, and you said you loved me ...
TOM: Turn it off, TURN IT OFF!!!

[Kate lunges for Chad.]

CHAD: ... and for our honeymoon we stopped war and famine for all time,
because we're marr--

[Kate breathes in relief and starts to make some more adjustments.]

KATE: Sorry, Tom, let's try ...

[There is a puff of smoke. Chad now wears a baseball cap, a backpack, and
glasses.]

CHAD (in voice of a simple albeit annoying child): You know, mayflies only
live for one day, so they're all born as orphans, so if you want to make
money, you should start an orphanage for insects.
TOM: Oh, I know! And did you know (starts to adopt the same speech
patterns) that stars are so far away that we don't know if they've
exploded or not, so airlines won't fly there because it screws up your
frequent flyer miles.
CHAD: Well, my mom died during a dance marathon, which just proves that
friends don't let friends rhumba drunk.

[Lights begin to flash.]

KATE: Did you know, that whenever those lights flash, the mads want us back
in the theater, and we've got movie sign? MOVIE SIGN!

[General chaos of movie sign; door sequence. Kate and Tom enter the
theater.]

>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

KATE: I hope Crow isn't too late.

>From: paul.h...@shbbs.demon.co.uk (Paul Hubbard)

TOM: "Not since Isaac Newton sat in a bath and discovered that apples could
stun Archimedes has one story been so boring."

>Subject: Better The Devil You Know 4

[Crow enters.]

CROW: Hi guys! Sorry I'm ... [notices the post] Oh, God, no!

>X-Mail-Agent: GIGO unreg at shbbs vsn 0.99 pl1

KATE: How was your date?
CROW: I'll tell you later.

>Organization: Silicon Heaven BBS (2200-0630 UTC) (44-1626-834331) V32B

TOM: Hike!

>Date: Wed, 10 Aug 1994 23:41:02 +0000

CROW: What's de matteh, Auggie?

>Message-ID: <b45_940...@shbbs.demon.co.uk>
>Sender: use...@demon.co.uk

TOM (singing): Here he comes, here comes Paul Hubbard!
He's a demon on 'net!

>Lines: 267
>
>From: ph...@shbbs.demon.co.uk (Paul Hubbard)

KATE: Didn't he used to play bass with The Seeds?
TOM: Well I -- Huh?

>Better the devil you know.
>by P.D Hubbard.

KATE: Cover your face! Cover your face!

>
>Part 3.

CROW: Parts is parts.

>
>
>Beverley Crusher hated doing post mortems, especially when it was

TOM: Warm weather.

>someone you knew. On a ship of over a thousand, it was difficult
>not to.

KATE: So those darned ol' Federation personnel can just stop dying RIGHT
NOW!

>Ensign Sandra Cortez was no exception.

CROW: That's no exception, that's my wife!

>She had been a
>enthusiastic member of the drama group

TOM: Especially when they did "Old Calcutta".

>and was well respected by
>everyone who knew her personally.

CROW: She wasn't liked, but they respected her meanness.

>A terrible waste.

KATE: But what a butt!

>
>The body of Ensign Cortez was laid out on a gurney,

TOM: Which made Letterman's producer happy.

>ready for
>examination.

CROW: You have sixty minutes. Use a number two pencil ...
TOM: Oh, a RECTAL exam!

>Doctor Cody stood by,

KATE: Pumpkin Helmet and Nipple Tweakers at the ready.

>ready to assist Crusher with
>the biopsies.

CROW (in sissy-boy voice): Just let me know if you need any help, Bev.

>With a sense of forbidding,

TOM: and a rush of excitement,

>she peeled back the
>sheet.

KATE: Yech! Instead of excitement, I would have used some long-handled
tongs.

>
>"Computer.

CROW: Mmyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessss?

>Start recording. Time 20:42 hours.

TOM: Set speed to SP.

>Post mortem of
>Ensign Sandra Cortez, Engineering staff".

KATE: And a good friend.

>She paused for a
>second, suddenly feeling nauseous.

CROW: Wuh, shouldn't have ordered that pepper steak.

>After a few more seconds, she
>continued. "Exterior of body in a badly lacerated condition.

KATE: This work has Brian Adams written all over it!
TOM (singing): And it cuts like a knife ...

>Little or no skin left on both sides of the torso with congealed
>blood pockets covering the affected area.

KATE: At least she'll be easy to field-dress.

>A sample of the slime
>covering the body has been dispatched to the labs for analysis.

CROW: An educated guess is that she was attacked by a tobacco lobbyist.

>A large gash is visible, extending from the base of the neck to
>the pubic region.

TOM: Huhhuh. Huhhuh. She said neck.

>Weather

KATE: Cloudy tonight with a chance of--

>this is the cause of death is at this
>point debatable.

CROW: Well it certainly didn't help.

>Starting to examine wound close up".

TOM: with Roy Firestone. Brought to you by Oldsmobile.

>
>Crusher

CROW: Damn near killed 'er!

>took a scraper and slowly cleared the dried blood from
>the wound.

KATE: Now what we'e doin' he'e, Bawb, is clearin' away de old blood...

>A foul smell started to waft up from the body making
>her wince in disgust.

TOM: She had broccoli for lunch! Yech!

>Suddenly she stopped, gently parted the
>skin and looked into the uncovered cavity.

KATE (imitating Don Adams): Thirteen? You in there?

>
>"Oh my God.........her heart has been removed".

CROW: Get James Fransiscus!
TOM: Crow, that was Tony Francioso!

>
> She pottered around

KATE (nasally): I remember when I was growing up back in Hannibal, MO!

>for a few minutes more, examining the area.

CROW: Heh heh.

>Finally, she started to stitch up the gash

TOM: Prude.

>and called in a
>orderly to remove the body to stasis.

KATE: Stasis? This is Star Trek, not Red Dwarf!
TOM: Too bad.

>Then, after finalising her
>report and sending the samples to the laboratory,

CROW: Junior, take you and your BR549 sign to Bela Lugosi's place!

>she scrubbed
>up and vomited in the sink.

KATE: Nice Karen Carpenter imitation.
TOM (singing): Just like me,
They long to be
Close to *HARUPHF*

>
>
>
> ____________
>
>
>
>"Your report Doctor?" started Picard.

CROW: *ahem* "'The Effects of Roosevelt's New Deal on Generation X' by Bev
Crusher..."

>
>Stopping first to look around the room, Beverley Crusher grasped
>her PADD

KATE: That's illegal in Georgia, you know.

>and started to read the report. The effect on the
>officers present was not kind.

TOM (as Worf): Quit droning, woman!

>Troi immediately started to look
>sick

CROW: "How could you tell?"

>and Geordi shuffled nervously in his seat.

KATE: Funny, I'd always figured Levar to be more of a foxtrotter...

>A killer on
>board was the last thing to be expected.

TOM: Except for the Spanish Inquisition.

>
>Riker cut in.

CROW: Hey, dude, front row seats are handed out by lottery anyway! Get back
in line, man!

>"Doctor, are you telling us that someone flogged
>the skin off Ensign Cortez, then gutted her and left her to
>die?".

KATE: Well DUH, Sherlock!

>
>"That is essentially it.

TOM (as Riker): Is this person available for kids' parties?

>It is doubtful that Cortez felt this
>happening. She was, to all intent and purposes,

CROW: Stoned off her cute little butt.

>dead by the time
>the flogging had finished".

KATE: Kinda like an IRS audit.

>
>"Thank god for small miracles.." whispered Geordi.

CROW: And for big-breasted bow-legged women!
KATE: CROW!!!!

>
>Beverley continued. "A large amount of, for want of a better
>word, green slime, was removed from the body

TOM: And killed with a burning hands spell. (whispering) God, I am SO, so
ashamed I know that ...

>and sent for
>analysis, results are not available at this time. That's all".

KATE: Hee Haw!

>
>Picard collected his thoughts

CROW (as Picard): Where's that thought of Bev in the satin-- Ah, here it
is.

>then addressed Worf. "Mr Worf,

TOM: How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?

>have security come up with anything???".

KATE: Well, we thought of pop-up books.

>
>"Very little Sir. There are no traces of anybody being in the
>room with Ensign Cortez.

CROW: No body? Kate Moss must be behind this!
TOM: Can't be, she has no behind.

>The computer records indicate

KATE: Riker keeps playing nethack during working hours.

>that a
>period of three minutes elapsed between Ensign Cortez entering
>the room and the arrival of security, no one went in or out
>between those times.

TOM (British accent): So the murderer must still be in that room!
CROW (Cockney accent): Or the murderer is able to warp time and space.
TOM (British accent): Shut up, Baldrick.

>Due to the short timescale it is highly
>unlikely that a murderer had time to remove any clues, yet we
>cannot find any.

KATE: Ha! Like you guys ever COULD!

>No hair, fingerprints, nothing.

TOM: We did find a business card for some guy named John Hinkley, but you
told us to clean up the place, so we threw it away.

>A tricorder
>was found in a battered state

CROW: Oklahoma?

>in the room and has been sent to
>engineering to see if any clues are obtainable on it. However,
>I am very doubtful of this".

KATE: Our lab guys are total dinks.

>
>"Geordi?"

TOM: Football practice!!!

>
>"My staff have been testing the tricorder to see if anything was
>recorded on it.

CROW: Turns out she was listening to some cool stuff: Velvet Underground's
first album.

>All we retrieved is a sound recording of Ensign
>Cortez's screams, that really upset my staff.

KATE: Probably didn't do her a hell of a lot of good, either.

>However, a
>radiation trace was found on the exterior of the tricorders case
>and is currently being analyzed".

TOM: Big help; it's probably infrared from Worf's body heat.

>
>"Will?"

TOM: Chief?
CROW: McCloud?

>
>"At this point,

KATE: The rabbit goes around the tree, ...

>whoever done it

CROW: also stole my knowledge of grammar.

>was either clever or not human.

TOM: Or maybe both.

>I can't believe that anybody on this ship would do something like
>this.

CROW: Apparently Troi hasn't told you what we all think of you, Polyanna.

>It gives me the shudders just thinking about it".

KATE: It makes me all tingly.

>
>BLOOP: "Bridge to Captain Picard",

TOM: Bloop? Who is this Bloop character?

>
>"Picard here"
>
>"Ships sensors have detected a small city on the planets surface.

CROW: Tell Riker they don't have a Denny's.

>It appears to have no life forms present.

KATE: Oh, it's populated by Deadheads.

>However, traces of a
>power source are registering on the sensors".

TOM: It's that damn Energizer rabbit!
CROW: Arm phasers.

>
>"Acknowledged, out.." replied Picard.

KATE: But my name's not out!

>"Will, form an away team
>and get down there.

TOM: And get the hell offa my ship!

>It may be that the clues we are looking for
>are in the wrong place. Dismissed".

CROW: Klink, you ee-diot!

>
>Riker stood up. "Worf, Geordi, Data, with me. Lets go".

KATE (singing): I love the night life baby!

>
>
>
> ____________
>
>
>
>
>Troi strolled down the corridor to her quarters.

TOM (falsetto): I know I left that roll around here somewhere.

>It was late in
>the day

CROW: I wonder who's on Letterman ... huh, Teri Garr and Marv Albert.

>and she had a backlog of reports to clear along with a
>condolence message to Ensign Cortez's family.

KATE: "Dear Ensign Cortez's family, we're sorry your daughter was flayed
alive, ..." No, that's too direct.

>The away team had
>beamed down

TOM: But Geordi was still asking for a Seagram's and 7.

>and there was little to do until they returned.

CROW (falsetto): Time to get out Mr. Buzz-Buzz!

>
>She cocked her head to one side.

KATE: Trumpy?

>A strange whispering chant
>seemed to emanate from somewhere.

TOM: It's those damn monks again! How many cds have they released?!

>Troi took a few more paces and
>stopped to listen again.

KATE: Puma?

>The sound had stopped.

CROW: Oh, that's right, Bev gave Wes a Close'n'Play for his birthday.

>She paused a
>few more seconds, then shook her head.

TOM: Yoggidayoggidayoggida!

>'It really is too late
>in the evening'

CROW (singing): And I went backstage to smoke myself a j!
KATE and TOM (imitating the horn section): De-det de-det-de-DEH-det!

>she thought as she continued down the corridor.
>Reaching the end she turned the corner and stopped dead.

ALL: Yay!
CROW: I love it when the cast thins out.

>
>The lighting appeared to have failed along this stretch of
>corridor.

KATE: "And I'll have to wait four days before Engineering gets around to
changing the bulbs. Crummy union."

>Turning, Deanna tried using the comm panel to inform
>engineering of the problem. The panel was dead.

TOM: So she had the replicator make a passenger pigeon ...

>She paused for
>a few seconds more, then carried on down the corridor.

CROW: Then she paused.
KATE: After pausing, she paused to pause again.
TOM: Having finished her pausing, she almost did something before pausing
again, then decided to pause a few seconds for the second pause.
CROW: Mr Hubbard, if you are reading this, DO YOU SEE HOW ANNOYING THAT
WAS???

>
>
>
> ____________
>
>
>
>Picard was sitting in his ready room.

KATE: I'm ready to heave, guys. How do you two stand all these bad fanfics?

>He had'nt eaten in over
>20 hours and food was the order of the moment.

TOM: Oh, very punny.

>Picking up his
>current piece of reading material,

CROW: "'You seem so tense, Geoffrey," she said as she remover her --" Hey,
that's DIRTY!

>he flipped along the pages

KATE: Ah, screw you, book!

>to
>the point he left off whilst munching on lettuce sandwiches.

TOM: Lettuce sandwiches?!?!
CROW: Whatever did I give the wife?
KATE: Nothing like a big ol' lettuce sandwich after 20 hours without
food...

>
>A whispering noise started up, coming from every direction.

TOM (as Picard): Look, Bev, I'm not in the mood for your role-playing.

>
>Picard turned in his chair and stopped dead.

ALL: Yay!
CROW: Another one bites the dust!

>A strange glow was
>starting to form at the far end of the room.

KATE (in ethereal, scary voice): You will be visited by three ghosts
tonight!

>After a few
>seconds, it resolved itself into the figure of a old man,

TOM: Get out of my ready room, Old Man!

>clearly
>in agony, pointing at Picard.

CROW: You brought the birds!

>
>"Oh my.....Father.........."

KATE: Forgive me, for.....I have.......sinned.............

>
>"Jean Luc" hissed the voice.

TOM (hissing): How long do you cook a pork roast?

>"Leave this place, go......, save
>yourself

CROW (hissing): and your family lots of money at Shoe Carnival! (Shoe
Carnival.)

>and your crew before they suffer my fate, my
>agony.....".

KATE (hissing): Mylanta.

>
>"Father, you know I cannot do that......"

TOM: It's part of my fraternity initiation.

>
>"GO.......Go while you can.

CROW (hissing): The next rest stop is 300 miles down the road...

>The devil himself has promised to
>drink your blood at his banquet.

KATE: Oh, so that makes me the guest of honor!

>Save yourself my son.

TOM (hissing): and redeem yourself for valuable cash prizes...

>Already,
>it is too late for the Betazoid........".

CROW (hissing): Her soul is doomed for being an Orlando fan...

>
>"What do you mean?.....Oh my God...Troi".

KATE: No! It can't be her! We were going to have an affair in the next
fanfic!

>
>A blast of air cowered Picard into submission, blowing away the
>figure of Picard's father.

TOM: Apparently they serve baked beans and cauliflower in the afterworld.

>Picking himself up off of the floor,
>he raced out of the door, grabbing a phaser as he went.

CROW (as Picard): Damn, now I have to change my uniform and shower again.

>
>
>
> ____________
>
>
>
>Troi walked to the end of the corridor.

KATE: Hello? Hel-lo-o! Boy, just try to get these DMV people to help you.

>A smell of sulphur
>suddenly sprung up from nowhere,

ALL: Waah!

>the chanting got louder.

TOM: Hey, would you keep it down! Bloody Jesuits!

>A
>green slime started dripping down the walls onto the floor.

CROW (falsetto): Hey everyone, I found out where Worf hid Wesley's body!

>
>Ensign Cortez stood at the end of the corridor.

KATE: Selling drugs to Jennifer Capriati.

>
>"Sandra...."

TOM: Fro-derick!

>exclaimed Troi. "Your dead!!!!!!!"

CROW: My dead WHAT?

>
>The form of Ensign Cortez slowly glided towards Troi who was
>rooted in fear on the spot.

KATE: Hey, who left this pot of fear in the corridor?

>
>"I have come for your soul, Deanna..." cooed the wraith.

TOM: And also that cute green sweater with the blue ribbons.

>
>Finding her voice, she addressed the figure.

CROW: I am NOT gonna pay a lot for this muffler!
TOM: Then may I suggest this scarf, madam?

>"You can't have my
>soul.

KATE: Riker has the title.

>You don't exist .

TOM: Oh? Then why are you talking to her?

>There is no such thing as ghosts".

CROW: The Titanic is unsinkable!
KATE: Bush was out of the loop!
TOM: Chuck Robb only got a massage from Tai Collins!

>

CROW (to Tom and Kate): That's one riff against a Republican, one against a
Democrat. So no one should complain.
KATE: They will.
CROW: Oh I know they WILL ...

>At this, the form changed into a demon,

TOM: Mitch Miller???

>it's pointed tail
>whipping behind its back and it's voice altering to a low
>thunder.

KATE: Barry White???

>
>"Maybe you would like to feel the lash of my tail...."

CROW: Oh, it's Bob Crane!

>it
>growled, then screamed a horrible demonic scream.

TOM: That was Counting Crows, with "Rain King" on 99.1 HFS.

>"I want your
>soul for my collection.

KATE: It'll look so cute with my Hummels.

>Come Deanna, you know this is what you
>want.

CROW: Just like you really want a cigarette.

>I can feel your heart yearning for it's release into a
>eternity of suffering and torture".

TOM: And improper use of indefinite articles...

>
>The demon reached out to her, it's clawed hand glistening in the
>half light.

KATE: Someone forgot to wipe his hands! You get back in that bathroom THIS
INSTANT, young man!

>
>"Noooooooooo" she screamed.

ALL: Yeeeeeeeees!

>
>Suddenly, a phaser burst hit the demon.

CROW: Message for you, sir.

>It staggered back and
>shot obscenities

TOM: Bullets might be more effective.

>at the newly arrived Picard, then slowly advance
>again.

KATE: Losing all sense of verb tense.

>
>Picard upped the phaser to kill and fired.

CROW (mumbling): Yer de Cure; I'm de Fixx. No, dat ain't right. Yo,
Adrian, what's my line here?

>the shaft of light
>hit the demon and threw it back against the bulkhead.

TOM: That shaft is one mean mo--
KATE and CROW: Shut cho mouth!

>It lay
>there, stunned for a few moments,

KATE: You stunned 'im just as he was waking up! Norwegion Blue Demons stun
easily.
CROW: So do DePaul Blue Demons.

>then picked itself up off the
>floor and advanced again on Picard.

TOM: Wouldn't be easier to advance on the floor?

>A wind picked up

KATE: Okay, who ate the burrito?

>and
>billowed around Picard and Troi.

CROW (singing): The theeeeeeme from A SUUUMmer Plaaaaaaaaace...

>
>"You fool Picard.

TOM: You fool him, I'm bitter.

>You think you can hurt me, the devil himself.

KATE: Sure, I'll just play my "Rosanne Sings Irish Ballads" cd.

>Hurting me does nothing,

CROW: Oh, it's FUN, ...

>it only tortures the souls I have
>collected.

TOM: Well, since we know you have McCauley Culkin's, I'm for it.

>Already I have plans for your father.

KATE: Dinner, dancing, drinks, who knows where it may lead.

>His soul will
>burn a thousand agonies..."

CROW: I'll force him to eat 1000 chili peppers and burn his gut.

>
>"The dead are gone and buried.." cried Picard.

TOM: Then what IS that smell? You step in something?

>"The living are
>more important",

KATE: A counterexample: Martin Luther King, Jr. and Al Sharpton.

>and with that he opened fire again on the demon,
>holding the trigger down.

CROW: Amazing how the phaser fires when you do that!
TOM: Ain't it, though?

>The demon flew back in a hail of fire

KATE (dj voice): From their second album, _October_

>and vanished, the lighting returning to normal.

CROW: So, it was all a dream ...

>
>Troi staggered to her feet and looked in the direction that the
>demon had disappeared.

TOM: Boy, Deanna, Mom's gonna be pissed.

>"Where is he?" she asked.

KATE: Jamaica?
CROW: No, she wanted to go!

>
>"It appears"

TOM: WHERE!?!?

>replied Picard, " that our demon is, to quote
>Dickens, more gravy than of grave.

KATE (British accent): Of course that's 'Dikkens' with two k's, the
well-known Dutch author.

>Come on, we've got to get to
>the bridge and warn the away team".

CROW: I pity da fool that mess with the away team!

>
>
>
>
> ____________
>
>
>
>

TOM: What, there's MORE to this part?


>The Turbolift doors parted allowing Picard and Troi onto the
>bridge.

KATE: Billy goat, billy goat, ...

>Going to the communications panel, Picard tried to call
>the away team.

TOM: Fiji Island beachside!

>No response was forthcoming.

KATE: We're sorry; we are unable to complete your call...

>
>"Sensor sweep.

CROW: Detector mop.

>Where is the away team?" called Picard.

TOM: They stopped at the 7-11.

>
>"The away team is still registering on the sensor's Sir

CROW: What the HECK is a "sensor's Sir"?

>but
>someone or something is blocking our communications planetside.

KATE: It's the planet, you moron; they're on the other hemisphere!

>we have no way to contact them".

CROW: Not even Western Union?

>
>He turned to Troi.

TOM: Darling! Alone at last!

>"It appears that someone is desperate for us
>not to give the game away".

KATE: Milton Bradley?
CROW: Connie Hawkins?
TOM: Alex Groza?
KATE: Roger Brown?

>
>
>
>
>
>End of part 3.

TOM: FI-nally!

>
>~~~ Blue Wave/RA v2.12 [NR]

CROW: Yes, it's Buddy Guy with A Flock of Seagulls!
KATE: Crow, you are OUT there, man!

>--
>| Standard disclaimer: The views of this user are strictly his own.

TOM: And he can HAVE them.


Commercial we'd like to see: Well, no commercials, really.


MSTed by Richard Burton (T-Bone; bur...@lobster.gsfc.nasa.gov) and
by Kate Wrightson (kwri...@moe.coe.uga.edu)

Disclaimer: MST3K and related situations/characters/settings/scenarios are
the property of Best Brains; they had nothing to do with our writing this.
This MSTing was done for the sole purpose of entertainment and is not
meant to be a personal attack on the original author(s) in any way. We
intended no flames on any organizations, characters, products, people, or
ideas which were referenced in this MSTing. This MSTing reflects my and
Kate's own personal viewpoints, and not always both of ours, and does not
necessarly reflect the views of the University of Georgia, NASA, Goddard
Space Flight Center, or my employer, Hughes STX.

Clarinda Carrington

unread,
Nov 15, 1994, 9:38:20 AM11/15/94
to
In article <3aao0s$9...@paperboy.gsfc.nasa.gov> bur...@lobster.gsfc.nasa.gov (T-Bone) writes:

>>Ensign Sandra Cortez was no exception.
>CROW: That's no exception, that's my wife!

HA!

>>Crusher
>CROW: Damn near killed 'er!

Bwahahahaha!

>>she thought as she continued down the corridor.
>>Reaching the end she turned the corner and stopped dead.

>ALL: Yay!
>CROW: I love it when the cast thins out.

heeheeheehee

>CROW: The Titanic is unsinkable!
>KATE: Bush was out of the loop!
>TOM: Chuck Robb only got a massage from Tai Collins!

HA!!!

>>"The living are
>>more important",
>KATE: A counterexample: Martin Luther King, Jr. and Al Sharpton.

hahahahahahaha

>>"Sensor sweep.
>CROW: Detector mop.

ROTFL!

Bravo!!!

Clarinda

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