From megane67@home.com Sat Jun 02 02:52:15 2001 *TURN OFF YOUR LIGHTS* (And give yourself a severe case of eyestrain) (The future isn't what it used to be....) "MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 6.7" (SEASON FOUR) EPISODE 31: LINES-AS-Q PART 2 (PT. 1) (A Star Trek: The Next Generation MSTing) MSTed From the Desk of Megane 6.7 This is a MSTing of a work of fiction created by another author. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. Any random mention of certain anime characters, song titles, etc. are the property of their respected creators/distributors/etc. Just covering my own ass here folks.... "Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Gene Roddenberry, and all the distributors of his work. "Lines-As-Q Part 2" is the property of David Hines and he's welcome to it. I do not intend to offend him for making fun of his work like this but I figure it's only a matter of time before someone does. Think of this as another form of C&C. It's all meant in good fun. ;) (This MSTing rated PG-13 for language and some mature content.) (Cue "Mystery Science Theater 6.7 Love Theme" in 5... 4... 3....) It's the not-too-distant future, Last Sunday BC There was this guy named Joel Not so different from you or me He worked at Gizmonic Institute Just another guy in a red jumpsuit He did a great job cleaning up the place, But his bosses really hate him So they shot him into space!!!! Joel: (OH... MY... GODDESS!!!) Crow and Tom: (IT'S MEGAMI-SAMA!) (Instead of holding messed up video, Frank's holding a computer printout) We'll send him crappy fanfics The worst we can find (lalala) He'll have to sit and read them all and we'll monitor his mind (lalala) (Instead of where it shows the guys watching the movie, it shows them ducking behind their seats for 'Artemis's Lover'.) Now keep in mind Joel can't control When the fanfics begin or end (lalala) Because he used those special parts To make his robot friends; ROBOT ROLL CALL: CAMBOT: 'Text only'? Gypsy: 'Oh, my!' Tom Servo: 'Sweet-o!' CROOOOOOOW!!! 'I'm not a hentai!' If your wondering how Joel eats and breathes And other science facts (lalala) Then repeat to yourself *It's just a MiST* You should really just relax for MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 6.7!!!! * * * THE DELTA QUADRANT "WE ARE THE BORG... YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED... WE WILL ADD YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS TO OUR OWN...." The oddly shaped satellite continued to show no signs of life as the Borg cube slowly approached it. The vessel had appeared in the Delta Quadrant by means unknown to the Borg, but that would soon change once the ship was brought into the cube. Its technology would be seized, its occupants assimilated, and the Borg would soon be brought another step closer to perfection.... A tractor beam lanced out from the Borg cube, attempting to lock onto the satellite only to be deflected by a shield. Likewise, a cutting beam, normally used to slice sections of a ship's hull away like a knife would carve a Thanksgiving turkey, proved to be ineffective. Undaunted, the Borg fired a cluster of torpedoes designed to drain the energy of the shields as well as the satellite... only to be quite surprised when they too failed to make any sort of impression. "LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND PREPARE TO BE BOARDED... RESISTANCE IS FUTILE...." A moment later, the satellite finally sent back a communication of their own. "Up your nose with a rubber hose!" a voice taunted. "NOSE IS IRRELEVANT... RUBBER IS IRRELEVANT... YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED...." the Borg replied. "Oooh! We're shaking! We're shaking!" a second voice giggled. "Face it, you guys haven't been impressive since 'First Contact' and since you have no hope in hell of tractoring us in, why don't you try assimilating something more your speed... like tribbles!" The tractor beam abruptly ceased, as did all other attempts to capture the satellite, and the cube was silent for a long moment, its hue gradually turning scarlet while wisps of steam leaked from various sections. Finally, there was a response. "YOU ARE IRRELEVANT... PREPARE FOR ANNIHILATION...." The cube suddenly lashed out with an impressive array of firepower, raking over the shields of the satellite. A second volley finally prompted the Satellite to perform evasive maneuvers as the Borg cube charged towards them, all its weapons blazing. "Hey! You guys better cut it out before we get mad!" the first voice from exclaimed as the Satellite of Love struggled to prevent a collision with the enormous cube while continuing to absorb a staggering amount of energy from the Borg's weapons. "ANGER IS IRRELEVANT... NOW DIE, YOU LITTLE TURDS...." was the Borg's final response as they began jamming transmissions. * * * SATELLITE OF LOVE "Oh, you're just trying to kill us to be friendly then?!?" Tom Servo retorted as the bridge shuddered again. "Captain, our shields are buckling, what are we going to do?!?" Crow T. Robot leaned forward in his command chair, scrutinizing the Borg cube as it continued to hammer them with everything at its disposal. His 'Wrath of Khan' Starfleet Uniform had oil spilled down the front and his Skipper's hat had seen better days. As the satellite shuddered once more, Crow bolted to his feet, yanked down his shirt, brushed off some lint, adjusted his belt buckle, zipped up his fly, and exclaimed. "All right, Borg, you asked for it! Mr. Servo, unleash... THE DETERRENT!" "Aye, Captain! One robotic Richard Simmons coming up!" "No, the OTHER deterrent!" Crow growled under his breath. "Huh? Ohhhhhh...." Tom nodded in understanding as he stabbed several buttons on his console with his mouth. "Deterrent away! Hang on to your bippy!" The satellite seemed to convulse for a moment before spitting out a torpedo towards the attacking Borg cube, smashing a hole into it before the Borg could react.... * * * BORG SHIP INTERIOR "HULL BREACH IN SECTION NINE... INITIATING REPAIRS... WARNING, UNIDENTIFIED LIFE FORM DISRUPTING REPAIRS... ALL DRONES IN ADJOINING SECTIONS PROCEED TO SECTION NINE AND ELIMINATE INTRUDER...." A group of drones converged on Section Nine in a matter of minutes only to find several of their comrades lying dead at their feet. A moment later, another drone fell from the ceiling, followed by a single humanoid life form with a staff landing awkwardly on its feet. "STATE YOUR DESIGNATION...." the Borg demanded in a single voice. The hunched-over figure slowly turned to face the drones, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at its lips, as a haunting piano theme suddenly filled the air. "I aM tORgO..." The humanoid stretched out his arms and suddenly, dozens of thick slimy tentacles shot out of the humanoid's abnormally large knees, impaling the entire group of drones in the blink of an eye. "TheRe iS nO WaY oUt oF hErE... It wiLL bE dArK sOOn... YoUr LiVeS aS YoU kNoW iT... ArE ovER...." Torgo's deranged warble echoed throughout the cube as he began staggering down a corridor, the tentacles from his knees dispatching drone upon drone with incredible speed and brutal efficiency as he made his way to the bridge. "I WiLL TaKe cArE oF tHiS pLAcE uNTiL tHe maSTeR rETuRNs...." "OR PERHAPS YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU?" Another voice, this one female, replied with amusement as Torgo whirled to see the Borg Queen step out of the shadows and walk towards him, her hips swiveling sexily with every stride. "T-TaKe cARe oF mE?" Torgo replied nervously as the Queen placed her arms around his neck and stared deeply into his eyes. "I BRING ORDER TO CHAOS... I CAN BRING ORDER TO YOU AND TOGETHER, WE CAN BRING ORDER TO THE GALAXY...." "BuT t-tHe m-MaSTeR...." "CAN'T GIVE YOU WHAT I CAN...." The Borg Queen finished for him as she ran her fingers lightly across his skin before leaning forward and tilting her head for a kiss.... * * * THE SATELLITE OF LOVE THEATER "Guys? You in there?" Crow and Tom glanced away from the movie screen to see their creator, Joel Robinson, standing by the theater doors. "Oh, hey, Joel! Come and join us!" Crow invited. "What are you guys watching?" Joel asked as he grimaced at the sight of Torgo sucking face with Alice Krige. "Oh, just a little Manos/Star Trek: The Next Generation crossover we whipped up in the Holocabana with a little self-insertion mixed in for fun!" Tom replied cheerfully. "Uh... why?" "Training, Joel! Earlier today, we decided to contact Deep 13 and see if we could find out what our experiment was for this week. While Frank wouldn't give us a direct answer, he did let it slip out that it's a Star Trek: The Next Generation fic," Crow replied. "Oh... you really shouldn't do that to Frank, guys. He's liable to get hurt again if Dr. F finds out," Joel admonished. "As opposed to being hurt the next time Dr. F does an experiment on him?" Tom retorted. "I see your point. So you're trying to create a horrible Star Trek fanfic in order to toughen up for the real deal?" Joel guessed. "That... plus we had nothing better to do at the moment," Crow replied. "Oh? What about cleaning the loadpan like I asked you two to do this morning?" Joel replied ominously. "Uh, well, that is...." Tom and Crow stammered only to be rescued by the theater's P.A. system as it crackled to life. "Hey, guys! Sorry to interrupt, but Manny Calavera and Glottis are calling...." "Probably for the best... training or not, I don't think any of us are ready for a Torgo lemon scene...." Joel remarked as he and the others quickly shielded their eyes from the movie screen and left the theater. * * * DEEP 13 Dr. Clayton Forrester stood in front of the viewscreen, hands clasped behind his back and looking quite pleased with himself as Joel and the bots quickly made their way to the bridge. "Ah, greetings, Brain Donors... good to see you're making more of an effort to be prompt when I summon you...." "Well, considering you nearly suffocated me the last time...." Joel muttered. "What was that?" Dr. Forrester inquired darkly. "Nothing, sir," Joel wisely replied. "That's more like it! Now pay attention, 007, while I unveil my latest malevolent marvel!" Dr. Forrester replied as TV's Frank brought out a silver tray with several rectangular boxes. "Ah, summertime... the dawning of a new season is nearly upon us... Joy... fun... a season in the sun is now less than a month away... but with it, comes the end of another season... a season where a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love... a season where April showers bring May flowers... which leads us into a season when some of us can barely breathe between fits of sneezing, sniffling, coughing, moaning and yawning, all thanks to hay fever and allergies making your life a living hell...." Dr. Forrester took a deep cleansing breath before continuing. "Yes, soon those poor shmoes with itchy red eyes, leaky red noses and scratchy dry throats will find relief as pollination draws to a close until next year... or so they thought." An evil smile played across his lips as he rubbed his hands together eagerly. "That's why I've taken the liberty to invent the first ever... POLLEN-LACED KLEENEX!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!" Dr. Forrester cackled as he abruptly gestured at the boxes on the silver tray. "Frank, why not give us a demonstration?" "Ohhh, I hate this part of the job...." Frank whined as he tenderly pulled a Kleenex free of one of the boxes and gave it a cautious blow. Moments later, Frank's nose began itching as he suddenly exploded with a sneeze. Blowing his nose into the tissue didn't help as he sneezed again and again. His eyes burned as he struggled to breathe through his abruptly stuffed nose. Finally he dropped the offending Kleenex and fled to his room while Dr. Forrester chuckled evilly. "That's right, Joel, hidden within each of these seemingly innocent tissues are millions upon millions of microscopic pollen particles! We got ragweed! We got dust! We got goldenrod! We got 'em all! The more you use them, the more congested you get! Now allergy suffers will be subjected to allergies ALL YEAR LONG! And when they're forced to rely on allergy medication on a yearly basis, guess who'll own a huge chunk of stock in all the major allergy medication companies? ME!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Dr. Forrester sighed with pleasure. "Ahhhh... it's not easy being EVIL... but damn if it ain't fun... but enough about me, Joel, let's see what puny little invention you've managed to cobble together this week, hmmmm?" * * * SATELLITE OF LOVE "Well, sirs, we seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to preparing inventions for the coming season. But while your invention strikes fear into the hearts of the allergic among us, my invention can lend a helping hand to anyone having trouble falling asleep on hot summer nights...." Joel gestured at the counter where a blanket and four pillows rested. "I got the idea for this invention from my grandma's old electric blanket. I realized that, to my knowledge, no one's been able to invent a blanket or pillow that'll cool you down at night without resorting to sticking it in the fridge or freezer. So I invented a blanket and pillow set that react to a person's specific body temperature and adjusts it accordingly to endure a cool refreshing sleep. No more sweating in your underwear at three in the morning...." "No more turning your pillow over every five minutes for relief...." Crow added. "No more high electricity bills from fans or air conditioning!" Tom chimed in. "And you don't even have to plug it in or use batteries or anything! Pretty neat, huh? I haven't decided on an official name for it yet but...." "How about 'Ice Pillows' for starters? It's a name *and* a compliment!" Tom suggested. "For the blanket, I still think 'Cool Sheet' says it all," Crow interrupted. "...as you can see, we're still working on it. Anyway, what do you think, sirs?" * * * DEEP 13 "Not bad, Mr. Freezie, but I know for a fact how difficult it is to get a spot on the infomericals and unless you're willing to inhale an entire asscheek of Mr. Popeil, you'll be lucky to get a guest spot on 'That's Incredible!'... Dr. Forrester snorted as he wiped his hands on his labcoat before proceeding. "But I digress... it's that time again, Joel. Time to begin your fourth year of hell! Normally, I would be subjecting you to an anime lemon to start the year off on a painful note, HOWEVER, I've decided to shy away from anime for the moment and rather than pick any old lemon, I've decided to try something a little... different." Dr. Forrester smiled mysteriously. "Here it comes...." Crow muttered. "Steady." Joel whispered back. "Yes, instead of bad anime fanfiction, which you obviously are well-schooled in by now, your experiment this week will be a Star Trek: The Next Generation fanfic... but then you already knew that, didn't you?" "H-huh?" Crow and Tom gulped simultaneously. "Very clever, trying to get information out of Frank like that. Fortunately, even HE wasn't aware of the horror I am about to subject you to! So, tell me... have you ever heard of a girl named Marrissa Picard?" Crow and Tom gasped, their jaws dropping in horror while Joel rubbed his temples and replied, "You're sending us a Ratliff story, aren't you, sirs?" "Oh, no, no, no, Joel, you are so wrong! This story merely CONTAINS Marrissa Picard and her brethren... but it was written by a Dave Hines who incidentally has self-inserted himself into the fic as well! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Tom and Crow began whimpering and clutching each other with fear. "O-okay... that sounds pretty bad...." Joel was trying his best to remain calm. "B-But we've handled self-insertion before and survived! We can do it again!" Joel replied defiantly. "True... but have you ever had to tackle a story from the halfway point? Have you ever been thrust into the middle of a story with no idea of what went on beforehand and STILL be expected to understand it without going insane?" Dr. Forrester added while flashing a smile of triumph. Crow and Tom promptly fainted while Joel suddenly felt like Chakotay when he saw fifteen Borg vessels bearing down on Voyager in 'Scorpion'... "My god...." Joel whispered. "Sorry, he can't get you out of this either!" Dr. Forrester gloated as he trembled with girlish glee. "So prepare yourselves, Trekkies, for the second half of Dave Hines 'Lines As Q' is now... upon you! Send 'em the pain on a platter, Frank...." Frank returned from his room, now heavily medicated, and wobbled over to the file cabinet. "It'll bee there in jussa second, boss...." Frank wheezed as he kept a respectable distance from the Kleenex boxes. * * * SATELLITE OF LOVE Joel had managed to revive the bots and was trying his best to reassure them when alarms wailed and multicolored lights flashed. "OHHHH, WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIGN!!!" Joel cried out. (Door 6: It's a metal door with no knob. Before you can do anything, it's yanked off its hinges from the other side by a tow truck.) (Door 5: It's an old fashioned elevator. Both sets of doors open for you as you pass through.) (Door 4: It's made of dominoes. You tip the lead one over and watch as the pile slowly lowers until it's half its original size and you step over it.) (Door 3: It's filled with cute stuffed toys. You cuddle them for awhile before proceeding.) (Door 2. It's solid black marble. An Akahn floats from behind you and touches the door. The door vanishes.) (Door 1: It's a castle gate that rises into the ceiling, revealing a drawbridge that slowly lowers to the ground. You cross it cautiously, looking for moat monsters.) (Door .7: It's a swirling blue vortex. Suddenly a large hand reaches out of its center and pulls you inside.) Joel emerged from the vortex into the theater with Tom in his arms, Crow emerging a moment later and following close behind. Stepping over the air grate that prevented Tom from entering the theater on his own, Joel placed him down on one of the theater seats and sat next to him, Crow sitting on his right. Tom: OK, let's have a quick refresher course on Marrissa Picard before we begin! One, she's an annoying Mary Sue type character and uhh... uhh.... Crow: Ooh, I know! She can't get enough of them strawberries and umm... shoot, there was something else... help us out here, Joel! Joel: Uhh... err... plot contrivances are her best friend? Tom: Yeah, that works! Okay, we can do this... I know we can do this.... Joel: That's the spirit, Tom! It's Sidney or the bush! (Crow and Tom stare at Joel) Bots: Sidney or the bush? Joel: Peanuts reference... you know... Chuck? Bots: Oh. >Chapter Nine: Joel: Chapter Nine... Chapter Nine... Chapter Nine.... >Marrissa walked down the corridors of her ship feeling better than >she had in days. Crow: Must've been the strawberry-flavored enema. >Getting the full night's sleep had done her a lot of good. >She would have to remember to thank Martin for his concern. Tom: Suddenly, she paused as she noticed the red alert lights flashing while the familiar voice of the computer announced a self-destruct countdown only seconds away from completion.... Joel: Heh heh heh... sucker! >When she reached V.I.P. Quarters, Suite 13, she pressed the chime for >admittance. >"Yo!" came the voice from within. Joel: Come back later! I'm eating! Hey, get back here, Lucky! Computer! My dinner won't stay still! >The computer interpreted that as an invitation to ingress, Tom: Huzzah! Crow: This way to the Ingress, indeed.... >so the doors parted for Marrissa. Joel: You know, you'd really look better in a ponytail.... >Dave was lounging in a chair before the computer panel grinning to himself. >He also looked a great deal more chipper than he had on the previous day Crow: Forget HAL... what the HELL are you doing, Dave? >"Mr. Hines," Marrissa began. >Dave looked up and saw Marrissa. "Ahh!" All: Tom: Finally! A logical reaction to Marrissa! >Then Dave shook his head and tried again. Tom: Um... Aahhh? Joel: He's stalling! Give him a bit of choke! >"Captain?" >That's definite progress, thought Marrissa. "You seemed to be happy >about something." Tom: Uh, yeah, I was just enjoying some... err... educational programming with your computer. Crow: My GOD, what are those Orion Slave Girls DOING with that Vulcan?!? Tom: Uhh... p-prospering? >"Oh, yeah!" Dave swiveled the monitor around, and showed Marrissa >a screen proudly proclaiming Crow: ...another crash-free day on the Windows NT server! >"Welcome to the Dave Hines HomePage!" with Dave's >picture repeated over and over again in the background. Joel: Dave... Dave... Dave... Dave... Dave.... Crow: And if you need to reach me, I'm DavieDuud on ICQ! >"HomePage?" Marrissa asked, confused. Then she remembered. "Oh, yes. >Your so-called 'Internet'. Tom: MY internet? It belongs to the WORLD WIDE WEB! >After World War III, a surprising amount of data was recovered on that >from old computers that somehow survived. Joel: Luckily, Intel decided to use a Styrofoam casing for the Pentium 5 before the bombs dropped.... Crow: Unluckily, Blue Man Group was horribly burned to death while in the process of filming the commercials.... >What has been found kind of stands as an 'online museum' to that era that >everyone can visit." Tom: Cool! Can I visit the Cindy Margolis exhibit first? Joel: They even simulate the old days of connecting by modem! All the pictures load slowly and it crashes every once in a while! >Dave scrolled the screen down to his counter and was a little depressed >to see that the number was not much higher from what he remembered >back in 1998. Joel: Not only that, but the Wesley Crusher fansites have survived and DAMN IT, they STILL have more hits than me! >Turning to Marrissa, he began, "Look, ah, Capt-" Tom: Ahh! >Marrissa interrupted. "Mr. Hines, you are not in my command, and I'm >not on duty. Crow: Slacker! >I do prefer Marrissa." >"Oh. Okay. Dave, then. Joel: No, that's YOUR name! We can't both be Dave! Tom: How about... Snugglebutt? >Marrissa, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. >I was... um... having a really bad day." Tom: Apology accepted. Crow: Thanks... you strawberry sipping FREAK! Tom: HEY! I demand an apology for that! Crow: Sorry, you'll have to wait till tomorrow. >"I know. I spoke with Martin before coming to see you. Effective >immediately, you are no longer confined to quarters. Joel: You'll get to use nickels and dimes as well! >Our current assignment lasts for another couple of days, after which we'll >be returning to Earth, so you should be back home within a week. Crow: Nah, that's okay. Just drop me off on Angel One and I'll be fine. Really! >Until then, here's a communicator pin, standard issue to all aboard. >The computer can let you know how it works." Tom: Cause damned if I know how it works. Joel: Oh yeah. Tap your chest. Real complicated. >"Hmm." Dave said noncommitally, accepting the pin and attaching it >to his t-shirt. Crow: Would that be above or below the picture of Martina Sirtis? Tom: Eh, I picture Dave as more of a Frakes fan, myself.... Joel: Maybe I'll use it... Maybe I won't... We'll just have to SEE, won't we? >"You don't sound too pleased." >"It's just that... I really don't expect there to be much left on >Earth for me after nearly five hundred years..." Joel: Aww hell, just get Jean-Luc to adopt you! Then you can work in the vineyards! Crow: I can make wine coolers?!? Score! >Consulting a PADD she had brought with her, Marrissa responded, Tom: Yes, Dave is a few parsecs short of a quadrant, isn't he? >"Well, Martin has done some research and has found some living descendants >of your first cousins, and..." Crow: ...he has received a court order from them, passed down from generation to generation, forbidding you from coming within fifty kellicams at all times.... >"Thanks anyway, but I wasn't that big on family when I was back home. >I'm a bit of a lone wolf." Tom: Yes, I rather sensed that from your webpage. Joel: Just call me Terry Bogard, baby. >"That's too bad. I've always felt that family, whether by blood, or >adopted, was one of my most cherished treasures." Crow: Well, that, and having a nice author to make me perfect in every way. >"Yeah. I know, I've read all about it." Tom: Duneedon lent me his copy of the Herbertville Chronicle. >"I was a bit curious about that. You claim to have read my history >in what you refer to as 'fan-fics'?" Crow: And the forth wall comes a tumblin down.... Tom: Um, not exactly... Actually, your history is well-documented by a series of text files known as 'MST-ings'. They commented on virtually everything you did and every aspect of your missions. Crow: Ah. They spoke of my triumphs and how important I was to the universe I presume? Tom: Well... you were on a par with the greats back at home! Your shrine was right next to Oscar the Immortal and Dr. Thinker the Incoherent! >"Yeah. Short for fan fiction. From my best estimate, this is the >fourth 'epoch' of your storyline, in which..." Dave trailed off. "I can't >remember!" >"What do you mean?" >"I remember all of your stories up to a certain point... now in your >time. That's it! I can't remember anything that happens after now!" >"Maybe that's Q's doing, to make sure you can't change what happens >with foreknowledge of events." Tom: Nah, it's most likely just a convenient plot device. Hey, might as well be honest since the fourth wall is down.... Joel: Luckily, I still have my magic eight ball... Wha!? 'Outcome hazy'?!? Son of a....! >"Maybe... hey, maybe he'll erase my memory of the end scene in 'The >Only Constant' too!" >"What are you talking about?" Tom: Oh, nothing much... just a lemon fanfic that's got you and Wesley Crusher falling in love and having LOTS of KINKY SEX.... Crow: Marrissa> W-What?!? Tom: Gotcha! Ha ha! Crow: Marrissa> Ooooh! You are SUCH a dork! >Just then, the intercom blared in Jay's voice, Joel: Somebody help me... I'M POSSESSED!!! Crow: Awwk! It's caught in my throat! Jay to Sickbay, medical emergency! Dr. Heimlech to the bridge! >"Captain to the bridge!" as the ship rocked. Tom: Oh no, it's FALLING DOWN! Crow: My fair lady! >Marrissa realized that they were under attack! Tom: Mars again? Can't they take a hint? Joel: Bridge to Engineering! I need a atomic wedgie beam in THREE MINUTES or we're all dead! >Unfortunately, the next thing Marrissa realized was that she was in a >transporter beam. Crow: All right! Now scatter her atoms all over the universe! Go on! Do it! DO IT! Joel: Sadistic little robot, aren't you? Crow: Bite me! >Chapter Ten: Tom: No, really... THIS is the last one... Honest. >"Get those shields up, Mr. Lochard!" Jay barked from the command >chair. >"Trying, sir." Ross Lochard responded. Joel: Give me a break, they're heavy! >"No good. They hit the rear shield generator. Damage control teams have >been alerted to the area." >"Tell them this has emergency priority. Mr. Rozhenko! Tom: Yeah, yeah, we'll get to it when we're damned good and ready! Crow: All they need is Captain Kirk and this can be another episode of Rescue 911. >Keep the front of the ship pointed towards the enemy vessel!" Joel: That way they can keep us in their sights and get a clean shot! Tom: I don't suppose the author could get to the REASON this attack is taking place? Crow: Reason, yes. Plausible, unlikely. >"Aye, sir." Alexander responded. >"Commander! I have identification on the enemy vessel." began Ross. Crow: Great! Now how about identifying that stain on your pants? Tom: Luckily, the enemy vessel had their driver's license stapled to the hull. >"It's Trakce. The ship's name is the Gilkarn." >Jay thought for a moment. No one he knew personally. Joel: Hmmmm, I once flew a Gilkarn in the Gamma Quadrant... nah, couldn't be her. >"Sir!" Ross exclaimed. "The Trakce have beamed two personnel from >this ship to their's! >Checking... they took Mr. Hines and..." Ross rechecked >his readings, "...and the Captain, sir." All: HOORAY!!! Joel: Quick! Get us out of here before they change their minds! Maximum warp! Crow and Tom: Aye aye, sir! >"Mr. Lochard, I want them back. Try to target the Trakce shield >generators. Tom: After all, the shield generators are the WEAKEST part of the shield system! Yes, they are! >Gordon to Engineering." Crow: Susan to Ten-Forward. Tom: Mr. Hooper to Sickbay. Joel: Big Bird to the Mess Hall. >"Sutter here, Commander." Although most of the former "Kids Crew" >knew each other quite well, they fell back to standard Starfleet protocol in >situations like this. Crow: Rig the workstations with squibs and lurch around violently when the camera shakes? Tom: Don't forget the dramatic posturing. >"Lieutenant, the Trakce vessel we are engaging has kidnapped the >Captain and our guest. >Send whoever is most expert in Transporter systems to Transporter Room One." Crow: ...then beam that asshole into space for making the Transporter systems so frigging complicated! Joel: If he's anything like the cable repairman, don't expect him for a few months. >"That would be Lieutenant Sachs, sir, and she's on her way." >Jay pondered what his next action should be. Crow: Translation: Writer's block. Joel: How about... knight to queen's bishop four? Tom: Um, sir? I've still got the shield generators targeted... just patiently waiting for your order to open fire... anytime now.... >Calling up a sensor schematic on the Captain's viewscreen, he saw that >the Trakce were jamming all frequencies, Crow: Raspberry... Only the Trakce would DARE give me the raspberry! >ruling out a call for help. In any case, the battle would already be decided >by the time help arrived, Joel: Pity for the Trakce that I'm so impatient. Ah well. Tom: I want us to have a nice quick defeat. Then we can knock off for some Starfleet-sponsored counseling and massage therapy on Risa! >and Jay was always a firm believer in the theory that universe helps those >who helped themselves. Crow: Of course, if I help myself then I don't need the universe's help... but if I can't help myself then the universe won't bail me out and... arrrrgh, my head hurts! Joel: Lawless AND godless. A perfect combination for a Starfleet officer. >His only choice at this point was to wait, and have a little faith in his >remarkable crew. Tom: This is the end! We're doomed, I tell ya! DOOMED!!! Crow: I'm frightened, Captain! Hold me! Joel: Maybe if I strike a dramatic pose like that Riker fella... nope. Well, I'm out of ideas! >Though he did know one thing: if those Trakce harmed >one hair on Marrissa's head, they would answer to him. Crow: We're going to shave Marrissa bald! Joel: Errrr... is that your final answer? >--- Tom: Hey look, it's a line! And it's masquerading as Q! Crow: >Marrissa felt disoriented. Tom: Strawberry flavored LSD... bad trip, baby... real bummer. Joel: Uhhh... Dave's not here, man! >She recognized the sensation of being transported, Crow: Mmmmm, feels like I'm buzzed on Jamie Jeans... errr, I mean JOLT!!! >but the phase inducers must have been barely within tolerance >levels, and way below Federation standards. Tom: Gawd, why do I have to settle for being kidnapped by a *lowly* transporter system! Like, I'm Marrissa Picard, you know? I deserve to be beamed up by the best! >As she opened her eyes, she found herself and Dave in a brig. Tom: Oh, GOOD ONE, Jay! Crow: Well, Dave, looks like you're going to be my bitch for a while... you know how to toss salad, right? Joel: Eep! >Dave was sitting down, and shaking his head, not being used to the >sensation of being transported at all. Joel: Anybody get the feeling Dave doesn't get out much? >Looking out through the forcefield, she saw an alien bridge, >being manned by aliens distinguished by colorful hair ribbons. She >knew this enemy quite well. Joel: Lady Lovelylocks... So we meet again. >"Ah, the little princess has joined us. I do hope you'll be >comfortable." said a voice from the command chair. Crow: Nice to see Chairy still getting work after Pee Wee's Playhouse. Joel: Aww crap, Jay... send out the Aestivalises! I'm in deep trouble here! Tom: This ain't a Nadesico crossover, Captain! >As the chair swiveled around to give Marrissa a look at her enemy, >she gasped. Joel: *SQUEAK!!!* Tom: Cripes! Oil your chair once in a while, willya?!? Crow: Holy crap! It's Captain Tylor! How the hell did YOU get here? >She recognized this Trakce and thought him to be long dead. >"Ath Ressel." she said in an amazed voice. Joel: Really? Sounded kinda flat to me. Maybe "ATH RESSEL?!?" would've been better....? Tom: Nah, sounds too hysterical. How about "A-Ath... Ressel!?" Crow: Nitpick, nitpick, boy we LOVE to nitpick! >Chapter Eleven: Crow: Starfleet goes bankrupt and Marrissa is forced to take a job as a galley chef on a Klingon ship, serving Gagh and Bloodworm pie? Tom: Someday, Crow. Someday. >"Not quite." said the enemy leader. "But I am glad you take the time >to remember your victims. I am Ath Dralnok, brother of the Ressel you >killed." Joel: Grandfather of the Ressel you will defeat four or five sequels from now. >"I did not kill Ath Ressel." Crow: I merely worked him over with a two-by-four. It's not my fault he was too much of a wuss to come out of his coma! >"You do not admit that you caused him to fail in his mission?" >"I didn't let him capture me, if that's what you mean." Tom: So you DID cause him to fail! Ah geez, I don't suppose it would have KILLED you to just let him have ONE little victory to build up his self-confidence and maybe lead our race to glory, huh? The hell with the Trakce and their little hang ups, is that it?!? You make me sick! Crow: Oh, calm down and have some dip. >"Yes, and the Trakce Central Authority executed him for that failure. >Therefore, I hold you responsible. Crow: Gee, with logic like that, I can't imagine how I was able to outsmart you guys.... Tom: You're one to talk about logic! How many plot contrivances have gotten YOU by, eh Marrissa? >And worse, you have acted on several occassions to deny the Trakce >their manifest destiny of expansion. Did you know, Captain, that >Trakcean children are taught to fear you?" Joel: Marrissa?!? Ahh! Crow: Not to mention all ST:TNG fans and MSTies, far and wide.... >"No, I was not aware of that." Tom: But now that I think about it... that's kinda cool! >"Because of this, I was ordered to take you for Trakce once and for >all. It was a simple matter. When Ressel held you, he implanted a >subcutaneous transponder set to only go off a few minutes ago, thus >avoiding detection. Joel: Ohhhh... I was WONDERING what that plate in my head was for! >When we came to where your ship was at the time, it was a simple >matter to locate you." Tom: You tend to leave a mess wherever you go. Joel: We just asked Ruri to use Omoikane's higher functions... and there you were! >Dave, who was busy trying to control feelings of nausea, finally >spoke, Tom: Ralph. Barf. Vomit. Puke. Joel: I've heard of colorful speech, but I didn't expect a Technicolor yawn! >"Mommy, make the bad man stop talking." >Ath Dralnok looked at him. Crow: I'm your mother now, pink boy! >"As for the large one, he was a special prize. Our transporter beams >aren't as focused as yours, Tom: Hey Davie boy, how would you like to be our prize tonight? Say, about nineteen hundred hours or so? >so he was caught in the fringe of the transporter effect. Crow: And, as we all know, the fringe has many benefits. Joel: >His quantum signature is interesting. We shall subject him to scientific >tests." Tom: Translation: Anal probes aplenty. Crow: Hey, I ain't Scott Bakula! You got the wrong guy, I tell you! >Marrissa knew what the Trakce considered as "scientific tests", and >knew that Dave had no hope of survival if they "tested" him. Joel: Their English finals are impossible! Even Shakespeare couldn't get an A! >Just then, the helmsman shouted, Crow: I'M GEORGE TAKEI, DAMMIT! Tom: Look out! WORMHOLE! Heh, just kidding. Joel: Look, ma! No hands! >"Ath! The Earther's ship is approaching quickly!" >"Idiot!" Dralnok roared. "You said that they would not be able to >track us if we used the anamoly's emanations as cover!" Crow: Sorry, sir. They must have used a tachyon pulse or altered the sensors to pick up emanations or modified a class one probe to detect our ship emissions or some other technological crapola that Star Trek pulls out of its ass every frigging episode.... >"Apologies and mercy, A-..." The helmsman was cut off as the Ath >pressed a control on the bridge and the helmsman simply disintegrated. Tom: Ath Dralnok *IS* Dr. Evil! Crow: See? You're responsible for THAT death too, Marrissa! >"Communications, signal for assistance. Relief pilot, take over." >ordered Dralnok. >Suddenly, the ship rocked, Joel: No, don' gettup! I c'n DO thish! Now, letsee what thish does... oops, we sheem to be shpining out of constrol! Whoa whoa whoa! SHTOP MOVING!!! Ooooo-kay... we shtopped. Tat's good. Huh? Me drinkin' on doody? Gettaouthere! I'm ash shober as shugar! Jus' uh... jus' gimmeaminuteandI'llmerJanthfgrr... *clunk*... ZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzz.... >and Dave and Marrissa noticed the brig forcefield shut off. In their >arrogance, the Trakce had failed to remove the duo's commbadges. Crow: Plot Contrivance anyone? Tom: Shyeah right! And I suddenly grew legs! >"Picard to Endeavour! Beam Mr. Hines aboard!" Crow: Aww, but we're making pretzels tonight, Captain! Can't we beam up Mr. French's instead? Tom: *HINES*, you moron! Not HEINZ! Joel: So he's the one with the fifty-seven varieties? Tom: ARRGH! >As she turned to Dave, he tossed something at her and said, "Catch." Joel: Mr. Hines! This is no time for Frisbee! >The world dissolved around her. Tom: Who needs global warming when we have Marrissa? Crow: This is just like the time Krypton blew up and my first parents were forced to put me in a rocket capsule! >The next thing she knew, she was standing in the Endeavour's transporter >room, holding an extra commbadge. She saw Shayna Sachs at the controls. Joel: Glad to have you back, Captain. And sorry about the beard, we're checking all transporter systems for the problem now.... Crow: Beard? What beard? *scratch scratch* YAAAAHHHHHH!?! >"Shayna, lock on to a human life sign over there, and beam him over >here." >"I can't, sir. Tom: Why not? Joel: I, uh... l-lost the key, sir. Tom: Oh lovely. And that was the last spare too. Oh well, might as well knock off for the day. Replicator, a strawberry smoothie please? >The Gilkarn's shields are up again, and..." >Marrissa didn't wait for Shayna to finish, as she raced out of the >transporter room and towards a turbolift. Joel: ...only to have her face bounce off the closed doors as they failed to open on cue! Crow: ...as I was about to mention, sir, we've been ordered by Starfleet to change all the door mechanisms so they only open when someone says 'Shh!'. Tom: Damn you, Kirk! Damn you to hell! >--- Crow: The 100 millimeter dash. Just one of the many sports that never really caught on. >Back on the Gilkarn, Dave smiled to himself as Marrissa disappeared. Joel: Good, one less load to worry about. Crow: Now, what was that about capturing a prize, Mr. Ath? >Shouting, "I like this part!", he raced out of the brig, and clotheslined >down Ath Dralnok. Tom: Oh, SHEESH. Give me a break. Joel: I like this part! Ooh, rock me Amadaeus! Ooh, rock me Amadaeus! Ooh, rock me Amadaeus! Ooh! Crow: I put in forty hours a week for *this*? >"That's for having a brig on the bridge!" Joel: And... and this is for not taking our communicators! And... and this is for not being a cool race like the Borg! And... and... this one's for my webpage! WHY WON'T ANYONE VISIT MY WEBPAGE?!? WHY?!? Tom: Hey, it's hilarity... so it MUST be hilarious. >Dave turned towards the rest of the crew and smiled. Crow: Don't make me silly. You wouldn't like me when I'm silly. >One of the Trakce soldiers was fumbling for his disruptor, but >Dralnok screamed, "Not on the bridge, you idiot! Tom: Well, where do you suggest I fumble for it then?!? >Take him down with hand-to-hand combat!" Tom: Thumb wrestling! Best three out of five! Crow: Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker's man... bake me a cake as fast as you... HI-KEEBA! >The Trakce couldn't quite get a handle on Dave's combat style, Joel: Luckily for Dave, the Trakce had never seen a Billy Quan sketch. Crow: Kids! Be Like Dave! Tom: Behold the awesome power of the Curly-Ken! Whoop whoop! >though as he leapt around the bridge, hopping on consoles, and >occassionally yelling things like "Whee!" or "I'm being a bad little >bunny!". Joel: Bad Usagi! You deserve a spanking! Crow: Sayyyyyy.... Tom: Y'know, we're coming DANGEROUSLY close to Ryan Landek territory here.... >However, Dave's luck couldn't hold out forever. Crow: Oooh, I'm going to give you such a PINCH! Joel: Hey, no fair! Marrissa's luck just keeps going and I run out? >A Trakce underling caught his leg and caused him to trip, smacking >his chin on a panel. >In the background, Dave heard Dralnok yell, "No! You've doomed us all!" Crow: You've activated the doohickey that controls the whatchamacallit that unleashes the thingumabob! Joel: I-Is that bad? Crow: I HAVE NO IDEA!!! Tom: Oops, speaking of doohickeys, mine just went off... time for a break, guys.... Joel: Groovy, let's take a walk. Crow: I hear ya. (Joel picks up Tom and follows Crow out of the theater.) * * * SATELLITE OF LOVE "Boy, that last scene was goofy, wasn't it? And speaking of goofy, here's something we hope you'll really like!" Joel exclaimed as the camera faded to black for a moment before fading up to a stillshot of Dave Hines. Crow: Only way he could be goofier is with dog ears, a long nose, and a "hyuck" laugh.... Tom: Just man the slide machine, Henny. (A question mark is superimposed over the stillshot.) Tom: Kids! How would YOU like to experience the thrill, wonder and whimsy of beating the living crap out of the Trakce?!? Well, now... YOU CAN! From the talented people that brought you RENEGADE, prepare yourself for adventure with 'Dave Hines' Battlerama'!" (Stillshot of Dave Hines assuming the crane position before a mystified Trakce solider) Crow: This is sure to make Seanbaby's new Top 20 list.... Tom: How many times have you purchased a video game with your favorite licensed character only to find out as you play that it actually... ... SUCKS! Whether it be a lame game engine, crappy graphics, product placement overkill or just plain half-assed programming, licensed games rarely if ever cut the mustard! Hell, they barely even dent the stuff! But no longer, for your prayers have forever been answered by the awesomeness of 'Dave Hines' Battlerama!' (Stillshot of Dave Hines launching a dropkick worthy of Erik Watts at another terrified Trakce solider.) Tom: Yes, you'll have SECONDS of fun as you help Dave kick keister and chew pack after pack of Bubbalicious as you control Dave aboard the bridge of a Trakce ship! Crow: It combines the fast paced gameplay of the original Final Fantasy with the dialogue of Metal Gear! Tom: He jumps, he bounces, he closelines, he even TALKS! (Stillshot of Dave Hines's face.) Dave: 'I'm being a bad little bunny!'... 'Whee!'... 'A winner is me!'... 'Whee!'... 'All your base belong to us!'... Crow: And he even has the classic Golgo 13 four-dot zingers. Wow. (Stillshot of Dave Hines using the Three Stooges Eye Poke on Ath Dralnok) Tom: And so much mor... well, actually, that's all he can say... BUT THAT'S NOT ALL! For 'Dave Hines' Battlerama' is proven to be better with women AND kids alike! Isn't that right?" (Stillshot of Gypsy) Gypsy: Huh? (Stillshot of Mary-Kate Olsen taken from an episode of 'Full House') Mary-Kate: You got it, dude! (Stillshot of Dave Hines leaping towards several Trakce with a pair of karate chops.) Tom: 'Dave Hines Battlerama' boasts more on-screen enemies than Smash TV, more blood than Resident Evil and more swearing than Conker's Bad Fur Day. Sure, it could be an empty boast, but with those kind of promises, CAN YOU AFFORD TO TAKE THAT CHANCE? (Stillshot of the Army of Darkness Movie Poster with Dave Hines' head superimposed over Bruce Campbell's) Tom: Yes, 'Dave Hines' Battlerama' will make you play until there's nothing left of your thumbs but a pair of huge, gooey, swollen, pus filled blisters! Crow: So be sure to ask your parents' permission first. Tom: In fact, we're so sure you'll like this game that we've included a money-back guarantee! If you're unsatisfied with the game in any way, send us your name, address and the telephone numbers of as many of your friends as possible and we'll send you FIVE DOLLARS of your money back! That's right, FIVE DOLLARS! What, are you deaf? I said FIVE DOLLARS!!! And don't worry about us, we'll more than make up the loss as we sell your contact information to anyone with the right amount of moolah!" Joel: Tom? Sorry to interrupt but it's commerical sign.... Crow: Anyone see the irony of that after reading this? Tom: Already? Uh-oh, I'd better wrap it up! Uh, er, um... that's 'Dave Hines Battlerama'! Order today, offer unlimited, visit Dave's Hines webpage at www.davedavedavehines.com and tell him he sent ya cause I really don't want the blame! This is Tom Servo announcing!" Crow: Good night and may God bless. Joel: Uh, right. Anyway, we have commerical sign.... *tap*.... TO BE CONTINUED IN 'LINES AS Q PART 2' (PT. 2).... Hiya! I hope you're enjoying this MSTing so far! As with my other mutiple part MSTings, there's lots more fun and weirdness to come, so don't skip it or you'll only be missing out on some great riffs and skits. ;) From megane67@home.com Sat Jun 02 02:52:20 2001 *TURN OFF YOUR LIGHTS* (And give yourself a severe case of eyestrain) (The future isn't what it used to be....) "MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 6.7" (SEASON FOUR) EPISODE 31: LINES-AS-Q PART 2 (PT. 2) (A Star Trek: The Next Generation MSTing) MSTed From the Desk of Megane 6.7 This is a MSTing of a work of fiction created by another author. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. Any random mention of certain anime characters, song titles, etc. are the property of their respected creators/distributors/etc. Just covering my own ass here folks.... "Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Gene Roddenberry, and all the distributors of his work. "Lines-As-Q Part 2" is the property of David Hines and he's welcome to it. I do not intend to offend him for making fun of his work like this but I figure it's only a matter of time before someone does. Think of this as another form of C&C. It's all meant in good fun. ;) (This MSTing rated PG-13 for language and some mature content.) * * * (Door 6: It's a metal door with no knob. Before you can do anything, it's yanked off its hinges from the other side by a tow truck.) (Door 5: It's an old fashioned elevator. Both sets of doors open for you as you pass through.) (Door 4: It's made of dominoes. You tip the lead one over and watch as the pile slowly lowers until it's half its original size and you step over it.) (Door 3: It's filled with cute stuffed toys. You cuddle them for awhile before proceeding.) (Door 2. It's solid black marble. An Akahn floats from behind you and touches the door. The door vanishes.) (Door 1: It's a castle gate that rises into the ceiling, revealing a drawbridge that slowly lowers to the ground. You cross it cautiously, looking for moat monsters.) (Door .7: It's a swirling blue vortex. Suddenly a large hand reaches out of its center and pulls you inside.) Joel emerged from the vortex into the theater with Tom in his arms, Crow emerging a moment later and following close behind. Stepping over the air grate that prevented Tom from entering the theater on his own, Joel placed him down on one of the theater seats and sat next to him, Crow sitting on his right. >Chapter Twelve: Tom: On the twelfth day of Christmas, Steve Ratliff gave to us... Twelve Snotty Space Kids! Crow: Eleven Ship Descriptions! Joel: Ten Prancing Horses! Crow: Nine Emasculated Husbands! Tom: Eight Imprisoned Naklabs! Joel: Seven Bootlicking Sutters! Tom: Six Irate Cardassians! All: FFFFFFIVE... PPPPPPLOT... CONTRIVANCES!!! Crow: Four Bald Captains! Tom: Three Glasses of Strawberry Juice! Joel: Two Much to Bear! All: AND A SMUG, FEMALE MARYYYY... SUE!!! Tom: Whew, fun.... Joel: Uh, you DO realize *this* story wasn't written by Ratliff, right? Crow: Sure, but why let that ruin a good joke? >"Captain on the bridge!" Tom: She's going to jump! Crow: Good. Joel: Aww, can I have a bo'sun's whistle next time? >Marrissa entered her bridge, and saw Jay move to the first officer >seat, and state, Joel: Ahh! Tom: The first officer has his own state? Crow: Yeah, it's called "shock". >"You have the conn, Captain." Joel: I know! It's such a beautiful trumpet too! Mr. B Natural gave it to me, you know. >"Thank you, Commander. Report!" >Ross checked his station, and reported, Tom: We have it tuned to 98.5 FM, sir. Joel: All muzak? Tom: All the time. >"The first Trakce ship, the Gilkarn has spiralled down into the Nexus. >A second one is approaching... and firing, Captain!" >"Return fire! Anything else?" All: Tom: Um, well, not really. Other than the fact we're under attack by a hostile enemy right now, it's been a pretty uneventful day.... >"Aft shield generators are still offline. Crow: What?!? Okay, that's it! Tell those morons in Damage Control if I don't have those aft shields back on-line in *three* minutes, I'm going to personally order the entire crew to watch me ROLL NAKED in STRAWBERRY JELLO and everyone will know WHO is to blame! Tom: GAHHHHH!!! Okay! Okay! We're fixing it! S-Stop pointing those phaser rifles at us! >We are keeping our front to the second ship." Jay completed. Tom: Are we shaking our goodies at the second ship too? Crow: Yes, Ensign Demi Moore is in charge of that. >"Execute attack pattern Marrissa Zeta Theta Three Kappa!" >"Aye, sir." Joel: Wait a minute, attack pattern WHAT? Crow: So Starfleet hires college cheerleaders to name their tactical maneuvers? >"Incoming phaser fire!" Joel: Only YOU can prevent phaser fire.... >The ship shuddered. Tom: I can't take these whiny brats anymore! I'm telling you, the first Doomsday Machine I come across, I'm throwing myself into it's gaping maw and laughing all the way to hell! >"Direct hit on their primary hull!" >"Sutter here! We're venting some plasma! Don't go to warp for a few >seconds until I can lock it down!" Joel: And don't... *chortle*... don't answer your communicator the next time it beeps or you'll be electrocuted... *giggle, chortle*.... Tom: Oh, grow up, Sutter! >"Captain!", Ross shouted. "The Gilkarn has reappeared on our >sensors, directly aft! There's no way we can protect our unshielded area!" Tom: Darn! I knew we should have stocked up on Kotex! Crow: Last chance, Damage Control! The aft shields go up or it's time for J-E-L-L-O! >"Captain, the second ship is launching torpedoes!" Joel: Oh, poopy. >"So is the Gilkarn!", Ross added. Joel: Oh, double poopy. >"Can we use the tractor beam to repulse one of the torpedoes?" >"No, it's offline.", Ross responded. Crow: FUCK! Even in the future, nothing works! Tom: Well, re-connect to the server then! Sheesh, people, do I have to think of EVERYTHING!? >Marrissa knew she only had one option left. She opened the intercom. Tom: I'm ready for my pudding, Mr. Cosby.... >"All hands! Brace for impact!" Joel: The rest of the body! Suffer! >The world went white around her. Crow: The world is black, the world is white! Tom: Oh no, it's a stroking beam! Oscar warned me about these! >Chapter Thirteen: >Marrissa was surrounded by white, as far as the eye could see. Joel: Whoa... did I get sucked into a suburb of Seattle? Crow: Either that or The Construct. Tom: It's an Upper Peninsula January! Whee! >Before her, she saw a being whose face was being obscured by the >strength of the light behind him. Tom: Oh, it's just Alfred Hitchcock again. Crow: But where are the rest of the marionettes? We have a march to do! >"Well done, my good and faithful servant," said a familiar and >sarcastic voice. Marrissa groaned inwardly as Q stepped out of the light. Crow: And if it makes you feel any better, I would have left David behind from the start. Joel: I heard that! Tom: Okay, we finally have Q here now where's the line? >She recognized this same approach from an experience her father once >told her about. Joel: Though the use of it here is kinda pointless since Marrissa isn't dying. Crow: No problem. Just give her five minutes on the Tonight Show. >"Sorry, Q, but I don't particularly believe that you're God, either." Joel: THIS coming from the original Godgirl of fanfiction.... Crow: What does Q stand for anyway? Quincy? Tom: Sam, get another pizza pie. It'll be a LONG night. >"Pity. Perhaps some angels would... no matter. We need to... chat." Joel: Q sets mode to +i Crow: n/s/a? Tom: In your dreams, Q. Crow: More like my nightmares. Tom: Zing! >"Q, this is hardly the time. My ship..." >"Your ship, your crew," Q interrupted. "Tell me something, do all >mortals have such pedantic concerns, or just Picards?" Crow: Well... just Picards, actually. But you don't have to rub it in! Tom: Hey, no need to throw your ten-dollar words in my face, you no-good... uh... no-goodnik! Joel: Whatever you say, Natasha. >"Q!" Marrissa was rapidly losing patience. >"Don't worry, 'Rissa. Crow: 'Rissa people gonna die? >All time is stopped right now. You're not even >aging. All I ask is a few moments of your time." >"Then get on with it, Q!" Joel: Geez, you wanted in surgery or something? >"I told you before that the Continuum had its eye on you. Well, >we'd like to make you an offer." Crow: We're selling these fine leather jackets.... >"An offer?" Marrissa asked skeptically. >"I'll be blunt. We'd like you to join the Q." >"Me? A Q?" Tom: HEL-LOOOO?? Q to Marrissa Picard! Are you receiving me? Crow: DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH?!? >"Think of it, Marrissa. You're worried about your ship? Wipe out >those two Trakce ships without so much as a thought? Wipe out the entire >Trakce race! Romulans, Cardassians, whomever would threaten your family, >friends and crew, all gone! Joel: You're sadistic and young enough to train. We here in da' Family think ya' gots some moxie, keed. Tom: So, could someone, preferably the author, give us a *REASON* Q is doing this? Crow: To satisfy the Manifest Destiny of Marrissa? >All you have to do is accept, and we'll wipe >those two ships out and head for the Continuum." Joel: Take the box! Tom: No, go for what's behind Door #2! Crow: The box! The box! >Marrissa was tempted... for about half a second. Joel: For a Godgirl... that is nearly an eternity. >"No, Q. Like I said, you aren't God, and I'm not prepared to be, >either. You like to think of yourself as omnipotent, but humanity has >something that you don't, and I don't want to lose it. Thanks for the offer, >but I'd rather be human." Crow: Yeah, you and Robin Williams. Tom: You know, I could change that. How would you like to be the first satyr in command of a starship? Hmm? >"Even if it meant your death, the death of your family, your crew, >and even Essex?" >"Yes, even then." >"As you wish." Crow: I'll put out a contract on those people right away. Joel: Wouldn't it be poetic justice for Q to send Marrissa back to the twenty-first century, where there was no Starfleet, no Essex, and no family for her? Tom: And have her wandering around *here*? Have you blown a gasket, Robinson?!? >The world again flashed around her, and if the Bridge crew of the >Endeavour thought it a little odd that Marrissa was smiling in a life and >death situation, they were too busy to comment. Tom: Shields have failed! Weapons are useless! Hull is breaching! Life support failing! AHHHHHHHHHHH... sayyyy, Captain, that's some BITCHIN' dental work you got there... AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! >Chapter Fourteen: >"The second ship's torpedoes should impact in five... four... >three..." Crow: ...weeks. Now, who's up for a few games of Parrises Squares? >Marrissa knew that her ship was going to be hurt. She briefly prayed >for a miracle. Joel: Suddenly, the warp plasma core turned into red wine and the water in Seven Slightly Starboard turned to blood. Tom: Focus, people... focus! >The front torpedoes impacted the shields, taking them down by fifty- >five percent. >"Thrusters!" Marrissa ordered. "Turn us around!" >"Aye, sir" responded Alexander. Tom: Now why didn't *I* think of that? Captain, you're brilliant! Crow: Marrissa pops her clutch and tells the Trakce to eat her dust! >"No time, Captain!" said Jay. "Torpedoes will hit in 2...1... they >missed us!" >"That's odd," said Marrissa. Tom: In THIS series? You gotta be kiddin'. >Before she could give another order, the Gilkarn's torpedoes impacted >the other Trakce ship. As the Trakce's shields were programmed to allow >Trakce weapons through them, the torpedoes hit the second ship unimpeded. Joel: HEY!! Just because it's CALLED *friendly fire* doesn't mean you're obliged to blast us!!! Crow: Hey, we ran out of olive branches. So sue us! >"The second ship is completely helpless, sir." Ross reported. >"Hail the Gilkarn, Ross." >"They are responding, Captain." Joel: Withdraw or I'll kick your butt. Tom: No need. Our comrades seem to be doing a bang up job of that already. >Instead of the scowling visage of Ath Dralnok, the screen lit up to >show the smiling face of Dave Hines. He was wearing a plethora of >Trakce hair ribbons. Joel: This one's for swimming... this one is for starting fires... this one's for knot-tying... and this one is for gadding about like an idiot! Crow: Pumaman would be proud. Tom: No, *Vadinho* would be proud. Joel: What the heck are you guys talking about? Bots: Nothing! >"Hey, guys! I'm the king of the Trakce! Look at all these ribbons!" >Marrissa exasperatedly shook her head. Joel: Hey, she's good! She must go to a lot of raves. Crow: It's Etch-A-Sketch Marrissa! Just shake her silly and rewrite her character to your liking! >"You do know, Mr. Hines, that the Trakce consider that sort of thing >to be highly sacreligious." Joel: Mmm... sacrilegious... Crow: Where's Ned Flanders when you really need him? >"Oh, you're just jealous, Miss I-don't-care-about-titles." >"Mr. Hines, exactly what happened to the Trakce?" >"I accidentally tripped on a control, and they all disappeared." Joel: Why they kept it on the floor, I'll never know.... >Marrissa remembered a previous encounter with the Trakce. "Ah, >their suicide equipment." Crow: The Trakce have a contract with Kevorkian? >"Personally, I think they just forgot to pay their existence bill." >Marrissa sighed. This man specialized in making no sense whatsoever. Tom: Bah! He was a rank amateur compared to... Dr. Thinker! >A beeping sound from Marrissa's chair panel attracted her attention. Joel: Can it, Artoo! I'm on the phone! >"Mr. Lochard," Marrissa ordered. "Lock torpedoes on the Trakce vessel." Crow: We can't! The chain's attached to my bike and I forgot the combination! >"Hey, now!" said a panicked Dave. "It was a joke! You can take a >joke, right?" Crow: Hahahahaha... kill him. Tom: Oh... does that mean you dance with the devil in the pale moonlight, David? Hmmm? >Dave's eyes went wide and he started pushing buttons at random. All: FWOOSH! >Alexander reported, "Sir, he's turned on the tractor beam... He's snared >an asteroid..." Joel: He's firing phasers... he's split the asteroid into two pieces... oh, this is interesting, now he's spinning the ship around like a milk bottle and taking pot shots at the other asteroids! Crow: Oh lordy... let's just pray he doesn't find the hyperspace button.... >Dave yelped in surprise as the Gilkarn shook beneath him. He fell to >the floor. >"The asteroid has hit him." Alexander finished with a bemused grin. Tom: It's fun to haze the newbie! >"Torpedo passing the Gilkarn," Ross Lochard reported, "and hitting >the third Trakce vessel." >Dave had picked himself up and heard this. "I knew about them." he >insisted. "I did." >Ross politely cleared his throat. Joel: *coughbullshitcough* >"Direct hit to their computer core, Captain. They've lost everything but >minimal impulse, tractors and life-support. They're moving to give the >second vessel assistance." Tom: Now now, we'll have none of that! Lock phasers on their warp engines and fire till they blow up real good! Crow: Uh, exactly WHEN did the Endeavour get fixed? >Jay Gordon was consulting his screen. Joel: I know you're out there, Ming the Merciless... You can't hide forever.... >"Captain, the Gilkarn is also moving towards the second Trakce vessel." >Marrissa looked up at the central viewscreen again. "Mr. Hines, what >are you doing?" >"You'll see..." came Dave's cryptic response. Crow: Now then, where are those pesky Deathblossom controls? Tom: My fist is the divine breath! Blossom, o' fallen seed, and call upon thy hidden power. Grant unto thee the power of the glorious 'Mother of Destruction'!!! >"He's firing disruptors," Ross reported. "Scoring strength." Joel: Tell me now, Ross, and give it to me straight. Is he going for the top shelf? Crow: My guess is the five-hole, actually. >As the Endeavour's crew looked on, Dave proceeded to carve words into >the Trakce vessel's hull. When he was done, the second Trakce vessel bore the >inscription, "We lost to one guy in one of our ships." Joel: And underneath, it read "Kilroy was here". Crow: Hey, that's MY trademark! Who said you could rip it off?!? Tom: You know, with all the humiliation dealt out by Starfleet and their flunkies, I'm surprised the rest of the universe hasn't banded together against them yet.... >Marrissa felt the beginnings of a migraine as a red liquid materialized in the >second vessel's path and the vessel cruised through it. She had a sick feeling >that the liquid was strawberry juice. Crow: Either that or it was the ship's time of the month. Joel: Ewww.... >Suddenly, the sound of one person clapping rang through the bridge. >In his traditional flash, Q arrived. Tom: I'm naked and beautiful! Crow: Oh yes, they call me the Streak, Fastest thing on two feet! >"Bravo." he said in a sarcastic voice. Then Q, Marrissa, and Dave all >disappeared in a flash. Joel: When did this turn into the Full Monty? Crow: Hey, quit ripping off Cutey Honey! >Jay took over. "Shayna, get some engineering and security personnel >over to the Gilkarn. I suspect we'll get the Captain and Mr. Hines back in >short order." Joel: Ten years later.... Crow: But weren't you the one who said it was Colonel Mustard in Ballroom with the Candlestick? >Chapter Fifteen: >"I would suppose congratulations are in order." Tom: Yeah, I suppose fifteen chapters IS an accomplishment for any story. Joel: It was labeled fifteen chapters, but the ORIGINAL material might be about three stanzas... >Dave was a bit dumbfounded by his new surroundings, so Marrissa >spoke up. "You tried to trick me. If I had accepted your offer, Dave would >have been wiped out of existence!" Joel: AHAHAHAHAHAHA... wiped out? >"Oops, I forgot to erase that from your memories. Here you go." Q >snapped his finger, and a flash appeared briefly over Marrissa's and Dave's >heads. Tom: Great! Now do us! Erase our memories too! Come on, I've got years of bad movies and fanfics to unload! Throw us a bone! Awwwww.... Joel: Now playing the part of Q: Tommy Lee Jones. Crow: Even Q can't make this story look good. >"Now then, we'll want to make this brief. Since you're not in a >crisis situation, time is passing." >Dave now spoke up, "Why did you bring me to this time?" Tom: Comic relief? Nah. Fruition? That's not it. The heights of passion? No, that's not right either.... >"Too bad Wesley isn't available, he would help in explaining it. No >matter. I'm sure you both have heard that Wesley is... shall we say... >'special'." Tom: He needs some happy pills and a special helmet so that he doesn't injure himself. Crow: Would you like to pet my llama? >At Dave's and Marrissa's nods, Q continued. "Well, the Q have >determined that the two of you also fit in that description." >"How?" demanded Marrissa. Joel: Rock, Paper, Scissors. It's not only efficient, it's fun! >"You are just so impatient, Marrissa. Remind me not to bring your >Christmas present too early. You'll both find out... in time." Tom: Oh! Time! I get it! Ha ha ha ha ha!! Crow: Laugh now, mortal, they'll be coming to take you away soon enough.... >"Pardon me," began Dave, "but couldn't I have been special back >home?" >"Not for too long. Permit me to demonstrate." A vision appeared >before Marrissa and Dave. Perhaps, more accurately, a window into hell >appeared before them. Tom: Been there, done that. Crow: Got the T-shirt too. Joel: Wow, look at all the mushrooms! >A single madman in power had gained control of a nuclear weapon and >launched it. Joel: See? You leave Tom Green unsupervised and this is what happens. >Automatic response systems thought deactivated kicked in and launched >a depleted, but adequate stockpile. Crow: Had Y2K not been a crock of monkey snot.... >Tens of millions died in the initial assault. Hundreds of millions more >died in the anarchy that followed. Tom: And then the missiles hit. Thank you! Joel: Geez, where were all the action heroes during this? Crow: Those fogies? Probably taking up lawn bowling. >Dave choked back a sob as the ruins of his home and his school appeared. Crow: S-School's... been blown... to p-pieces? Tom: Joel: If this scene doesn't cement my place as Star Trek's 'Luke Skywalker', nothing will! >The smile was gone from Q's face as even the omnipotent entity seemed >somewhat ashen. "I did what I could." he said in the faintest of whispers. Joel: I launched the first nukes... the rest was easy! >A cry of rage welled up from inside Dave, and faster than Marrissa >thought he could move he struck Q with a right cross directly on the chin. >Surprisingly, Q allowed it and fell down. Tom: Aww, they're both managed by Don King. He paid Q off to take that dive! All: RIP-OFF! RIP-OFF! RIP-OFF! >"You..." Dave choked, "everything I knew is gone! What do I do now?!" >Marrissa laid a hand on his shoulder. "You build something new." Joel: Of course! My course is now clear! I'm going to... REBUILD DISNEYLAND! Tom: Well, there's that ballfield I've always dreamed of building in the middle of the Iowa cornfields... >Q was back up. "You mortals do seem to be good at that." He snapped >his fingers and Dave and Marrissa were gone again. Joel: Hey, this is kinda fun! Yeah! I'm starting to dig this crazy beat! Crow: And with that, Q left the Continuum to form his own Doo Wop group. Tom: Scooby-de-bop ooh ooh we scooby-da scoo-da-boo-bee.... >Chapter Sixteen: Crow: ...Dave's Webpage Gets A Hit. Joel: Woo hoo! Someone DOES care! >Dave reappeared on the bridge of the Gilkarn as Marrissa reappeared >on the bridge of the Endeavour. Since the two ships were still in contact >with each other, they saw each other appear. Tom: Whoop-de-shit. >Martin was on the bridge of the Gilkarn and steadied Dave as he >faltered a bit. "Are you alright?" >"I'll be fine," Dave replied, wiping his eye and sitting in the >Captain's chair. Joel: Oh, I wouldn't do that, we haven't turned off the mass suicide machines yet and... *ZZZZZAP!* ...never mind. >Shayna entered the bridge of the Gilkarn. "Good news! I tapped into >the computer banks of this thing, and they've accumulated a good deal of >data on the Nexus as well. I'm transmitting it now." Tom: Well, that's a problem, Shayna. Cause on THIS spaceship, we obey the laws of thermodynamics! Crow: D'oh! >Back on the Endeavour's bridge, Ross responded, "Thanks, Shayna. We >are receiving." He paused. "Captain, the computer says we have enough data >to complete our mission with the addition of the Trakce data." Tom: Gee, that makes what? Five plot contrivances so far? Joel: Thank you, sir! May I have another? >Marrissa settled down in her chair. "Then it looks like we're going >home to talk things over with Starfleet, and then coming back to stop this >thing from hitting Essex!" >"One problem, Marrissa," Jay said, "what do we do with the Gilkarn?" >"We take her with us! They abandoned the ship... sort of... and that >makes it mine under maritime law!" Dave suggested. Tom: Uh, Dave? See the black stuff out there with all the white specks? That ain't the ocean, you know.... Crow: What, causing their deaths and mocking their religion wasn't enough for you? Yeesh.... Joel: Aww, but I always wanted to be a pirate! Weigh anchor, me mateys! We be settin' sail for the Seven Nebulae of the Unknown Sands. Arrg... >"Nice try, Dave, but the legal system no longer works that way." >"Well, the idea of bringing her back with us is appealing." Jay said. Joel: Yeah, we can just say that she followed us home! Please can we keep her? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! Tom: I'm... sorry... Dave... but... I... can... not... do... that.... Crow: Been saving that one for awhile, Tommy? Tom: Yep. >"The Trakce diplomatic corps would blow their tops over that one." >Marrissa replied. >"And if they had diplomatic ties with the Federation, that would mean >something." Dave rejoined. >"They don't." confirmed Jay. Joel: Then again... giving the ships back may be the first step towards PEACE between the Federation and the Trakce.... Crow: Traitor! You stay out of this, you... you evil pacifist! >"Then it looks like the Starfleet Engineering Corps gets a new toy >to reverse-engineer until the diplomats sort the whole thing out." Marrissa >remarked. "Shayna, set the transponder codes so we don't get attacked by our >side on the way in, then set course for Earth. Endeavour out." Tom: Never knew Starfleet had LESS morals than present-day China.... Crow: Soooo, basically any vessel of a race that doesn't have diplomatic ties with the Federation is subject to seizure as long as the crew is dead? Joel: Tsk tsk... shame on you, Marrissa! What would Jean Luc say? Tom: Martini. Shaken. DRY. >On the Gilkarn, Dave tugged his shirt down, sat in the middle chair >and confidently said, "Engage!" >Shayna simply looked back at him like he was a lunatic and continued >to operate the navigational console. Crow: You mean there's still some doubt after all this!? Tom: He wants to get engaged? We just met for pete's sake! >Martin leaned close to Dave and whispered, "She's kind of cute, isn't >she?" >Dave considered for a moment and responded, "I really hadn't noticed. >She's a little young for me." Joel: At the age of eighteen, Dave was older than 99% of the Endeavour. Tom: Besides, I'm waiting for the Olsen Twins to reach the age of legal consent. >The sun glinted off of the Endeavour and the Gilkarn as they made >their way home. Crow: WHICH sun? There's about two billion stars in the Milky Way alone! Tom: And as we bid the Endeavour and Gilkarn a fond farewell, the image of a prancing David on the bridge, irritating every last Trakce into an early grave will not be soon forgotten.... >[TO BE CONTINUED] Tom: ...in a fanfic that Dr. Forrester couldn't be bothered to send us. Joel: We can only hope. Crow: (stands up) Well now, that wasn't too bad.... >Epilogue 1: Tom: The Motion Conclusion. Crow: Oops... spoke too soon! (sits back down.) >Ensign McLees was bored. Joel: I left Toys-R-Us for THIS? What was I THINKING?!? >The Endeavour had just left on a classified mission, and a civilian's runabout >was about to depart. He hated civilian boats. Tom: What about gravy boats? Crow: Don't ask. Joel: Damn tourists! Give me a warship stuffed to the rafters with weapons of mass destruction over these pansies anyday! >"Docking control to Sol," he began. >A testy voice responded, "That's S.O.L." Joel: Well, excuse me for L.I.V.I.N.G! Tom: Hey Sol, it's Morty! Shalom! >(Writer's note: The story of the Endeavour continues in "Generations >2: Generations Ahead" by Anne-Lise Pasch.) Joel: Which incidentally I've also MSTed! Cool, huh? Crow: And since *OUR* author partakes the fine art of plugging as well, we'll refrain from further comment. >McLees decided it wasn't worth the effort of arguing. Tom: I'll just rat em out to the Borg later. >"We're seeing some peculiar energy readings from your ship." >A different voice responded, "We... um... dropped the toaster." >In the background, another voice hissed, "That's stupid!" >The first voice said, "Sorry!" Joel: Hey, I understand... one time we had a toaster that took out an entire starbase. Tom: Gee, really? Joel: Of course not, you boob! Prepare to be boarded! >McLees considered asking to leave early and report to sickbay for a >migraine treatment as the runabout shimmered, and seemed to reform into a >large cartoonish dog bone. Tom: It's the U.S.S. Snoopy! Crow: Nah, the U.S.S. Snoopy would look like a large cartoonish dog house. Joel: How about the U.S.S. Odie? >"Now departing," reported the S.O.L. >McLees left to go find his supervisor. Tom: I'm going to tell him I'm Ted Bundy, maybe he'll let me off early.... >Aboard the runabout, Dave whooped in happiness. Crow: Yessss! Another hit on my website! I'm more popular than Jesus! >A reward for helping to capture a Trakce ship, as well as a contract to be >interviewed by the Federation Historical Society went a long way. Crow: So it was all the more tragic when Dave got bombed on Romulan Ale, threw up all over the interviewer, and had to sell his runabout to cover his bar tab. Tom: Such is the fate of anyone who dares desecrate our sacred hair ribbons for a lame sight gag! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! >He now owned a civilian runabout with his own special touches. Joel: Tiki lights and pink flamingos EVERYWHERE.... >"Steady as she goes, Gypsy!" he ordered. Joel: Yeah, pretty much. Maybe we should invest in some new stabilizers? Tom: Oh NO... don't tell me.... >He turned to two other robots that he had created with the aid of the >replicator. "How about a movie, guys?" Tom: D'oh! Crow: Hoo boy... so is this a Meta-MSTing now? Joel: Maybe it's just a disquieting coincidence...? >The two robots, a red one and a golden one, began screaming. (Crow and Tom look at each other for a moment and shrug) Bots: ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHH!!! Joel: Guess not. >"You told us we wouldn't have to put up with those anymore, Dave!" >screamed the red one. Crow: Wonder if he's related to the... DARK ONE...? Tom: Aww, but I wanted to be the smart one! Joel: Maybe he's got a pair of Joey the Lemurs up there? >"No, Tom. I meant a *good* movie. How about those Star Wars prequels? >Never got to see those." Crow: Nah, I'm more of a Trek fan myself. I Grock Spock, ya know? Tom: Oh, ha ha. Very funny. Crow: Why, I'd gladly give up my underwear collection for Leonard Nimoy's autograph! I so adore his pointy ears.... Tom: H-Hey! Cut that out! Joel, make him stop! Crow: Hee hee hee! >"Fine with me! No more bad movies!" whooped Crow, the other robot. Crow: Well, it's better than being the other woman, I guess. Joel: Crow T. Robot *IS* Curly Q. Link! Crow: Ha! Good one, Joel! Come on, Servo! Riff away on me! I can take it! Tom: Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Well, I'm not stooping down to your level, Crow. You'll simply have to live with the shame of being a bully that needs to pick on others to feel better.... Crow: Suit yourself, gumball breath. Oh, Mr. Shatner! Have I told you how much 'Star Trek Memories' inspired me? Joel: Uh-oh.... Tom: RIGHT! THAT'S IT!! YOU JUST WROTE A CHECK YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH, PAL!!! DIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!! (There was a flash of fire from Tom's base as he shot up high above the theater seats as if propelled by a cannon and then dove to attack a surprised Crow. Crow: What the... AHH!? (Tom's body collided with Crow's head, knocking his net off and sending him crashing to the theater floor with the enraged Servo on top of his face and batting him repeatedly with his useless arms by rolling his body rapidly from side to side.) Joel: Oh, brother.... (Joel reached down and deftly picked up Tom, ceasing his weak flailing, while Crow lay sprawled on the ground, more stunned than hurt. Joel placed Tom back in his seat and held him there with one hand while offering the other to the fallen Crow who gratefully accepted it as he crawled back into his seat.) Joel: Now stay put and behave yourselves or no ramchips later for either of you! Crow: The truth hurts, eh Tommy? Tom: Oh, you want some more of this!? Huh!? Joel: Enough already! We've still got a little ways to go with the fic so let's try to keep our cool and remember we're all on the same side, okay? Both: Okay.... Joel: Thank you. >"Gypsy," Dave ordered a larger purple robot. "Second star to the right >and straight on 'till morning!" Crow: I can't! I've got a hot date tonight with Richard Baseheart! Would you settle for straight on 'till six? (Suddenly the theater P.A. system crackles to life) Gypsy: Keep my private life out of the theater, Crow! Crow: Oh, sorry... heh... just a little harmless ribbing, Gyps! Gypsy: Hmph! Tom: See, Joel? He just likes to invite trouble! Crow: Oh, put a sock in it, Servo. >"Dave, never quote Star Trek VI again!" shouted Tom. >"Sorry. Sorry." Joel: Ok, who slipped Tom the AA batteries? Tom: Dude! I need C batteries! C!!! >The Satellite of Love flew through space. Joel: ...with the greatest of ease.... Crow: ...having been set adrift from Earth's orbit, it quickly made its way towards the edge of the universe where its inhabitants were transformed into beings of pure energy before leaving the Satellite for a little while to explore the cosmos.... Tom: Shyeah, like that would ever happen! Get real! >Epilogue 2 Tom: The Wrath of Dave. Joel: This is the fic that never ends.... Crow: Bite your tongue! >Time passed. After an incident with the Nexus and Q, Jay finally >proposed to Marrissa, and Alexander proposed to Clara. Tom: And Dave proposed to Crow. Crow: Yeah, and... HEY!! Tom: Heh heh heh.... >The wedding on Essex was the social event of the season. Joel: Though it paled in comparison to the wedding at ACen 2001. Crow: Aww... that's sweet, Joel. Tom: Enough with the in-jokes, Miller! We've got fanfic to MST! >Dave was pleased to find a request to attend in his messages, as well as >a request to do something else. Crow: Well, I think I can stick my head between my legs but I dunno about this other stuff.... >At the reception, Dave was finishing a song he had learned from his time. Tom: Star Wars... nothing but Star Wars.... Crow: Hit him. HIT. HIM. >"...and time goes by... so slowly... and time can do so much... are >you still mine? I need your love... I need your love... God speed your >love... to me..." Crow: All I can say is... thank GOD this is just text! >Jay and Marrissa looked into each other's eyes with love as they >danced to the song. Joel: Hey hey hey! Keep those hands up where I can see them Commander! S-Stop dancing so close to her!! If you think for ONE minute that I'm going to let you go where no man has gone before with my daughter....!!! Crow: I knew it was a mistake to make him the chaperone. >"And, now to get this party rocking for our happy couples, here's >something a bit more up-tempo! 1-2-3!" All: MR. TAMBOURINE MAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN!!!!!!! >The background vocalists sang, "Good Love! Good Love!" Joel: Dave Hines *IS* The Wedding Singer! >After the song, Dave said "Best of luck, Jay, Marrissa, Clara and >Alex!" The party raged long into the night. Crow: And the hangovers long into the next afternoon. >THE END Tom: Executive Producer Dave Hines Crow: Whew! It's finally over. You know, for a Marrissa fic, this actually wasn't all that bad... Joel: Yeah, sure it was downright goofy in a few places, and plot contrivances saved Marrissa's butt yet again, but really, I'd say this wasn't much worse than an average episode of Voyager.... Tom: Okay, but what was the deal with that first epilogue? Did Dr. Forrester work out some sort of deal with Marrissa to trap Dave in space for his experiments? Crow: Yeah, maybe he promised her TV's Frank's weight in strawberries! Joel: One thing that puzzles me though... exactly why is this story called Line-As-Q? Tom: Hmmm... good question. Assuming the answer wasn't in the first eight chapters that we weren't allowed to see... maybe it refers to a line that we stand before every day. A line that we have to decide whether or not to cross outright or stand behind depending on the situation. Marrissa managed to stay behind the line when she was offered the powers of the Q, even if refusal meant the possible end of all she held dear.... Crow: But if that's true, didn't Marrissa and Dave cross the line when they took the Trakce ships with them? Even if it was an accident, Dave still MURDERED the Trakce crew and then for him and Marrissa to capture the ships instead of returning them to the Trakce... that's outright PIRACY! Tom: Well, maybe Marrissa wouldn't have been so hasty if Q hadn't REMOVED HER MEMORY afterwards! I mean, what's the point of testing her ethics if you're just going to snap your fingers and erase any lesson she may have learned from the experience? Joel: I'm impressed, guys. Those are some good observations. Of course, I seriously doubt this story was meant to be taken very seriously, what with Dave delivering a performance not unlike Jim Carrey in 'Dumb and Dumber'.... Crow: Hey, at least 'Dumb and Dumber' had Lauren Holly. Tom: Yeah... Lauren Holly would've made a nice addition to this fic... you guys ever see her in Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story? I'd bet she'd look great in a starfleet uniform.... Crow: She's married again, Tom. Let it go. Joel: Eh, let him have his fantasies... ...besides, ANYTHING is better than hearing another twisted fantasy by a certain robot about a certain Kim Cattrall.... Crow: Watch it, Robinson! That's the future mother of my children you're talking about! Sure, they'll be adopted but it's the principal of the thing! Joel: Anyway, my legs are getting stiff, so what's say we skip the cliché adjective and just go? Crow: Suits me fine. I think we've padded this conversation out nicely. Joel: Shh! You're not supposed to say things like that! Crow: Since when? (Joel shakes his head as he picks up a still daydreaming Tom and follows Crow out of the theater) * * * DEEP 13 Dr. Forrester smiled as he watched the trio leave the theater. "Cast your barbs while you can, boobies, for Marrissa is only the beginning...." He chuckled to himself as he walked over to the console and picked up a dusty folder marked 'DEEP HURTING'. "Already the first experiment caused you to turn on each other, however briefly, and little by little, I'm going to wear you out like a pair of cheap slippers until you're all at each other's throats and then... I'll unleash a fanfic that'll make 'Artemis's Lover' seem like a blessing! BWAHAHAHAHAHH... AHH... AHCHOO!" Dr. Forrester sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve as he noticed the dust on the folder was aggravating his dust allergy. "Frank! I need a tissue!" He called out. "Sure." Frank handed him one from one of the Kleenex boxes on the tray. "Thank you, Frank...." Dr. Forrester gratefully accepted the tissue and gave it a long hard blow with his nose. Suddenly, he wheezed and coughed as he stared at the tissue in horror. "Frank... where did you get this?" "From one of the boxes on the... heh, oops?" Frank cringed. "FRANK, YOU IDIOT!!! AH-AHCHOO!! AHCHOO!! Dr. Forrester sneezed into the kleenex again out of habit before shrieking in horror as he flung it away from him. His eyes were very puffy and red and his nose could lead Santa's sleigh through the worst of blizzards. "Uh... M-maybe I'd better just push the b-button?" Frank stammered nervously. "AHCHOO! YOU'LL BE PUSHING *DAISIES* BY THE TIME I'M THROUGH WITH YOU!! AH-AH-AHCHOO!!" Dr. Forrester's speech was impaired as he struggled to breathe. "YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS, FRANK!!! AHCHOO! OH GOD, WHERE'S MY DAMN ALLERGY MEDICATION?!?" He screamed as he fled the lab amidst a flurry of sneezes, sniffles, coughs and cursing. Frank watched him go and then the dust in the air began to tickle his own nose. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanky to intercept the sneeze and then did an exaggerated double-take as a look of realization washed over his face. "Gee, I had a clean hanky all the time... well, don't that beat all!" Frank took a moment to wink into the camera before pushing the button, whistling 'No more, Mr. Nice Guy' as he went to fetch an ionizer.... ...AND THE MSTINGS CONTINUE... I hope you enjoyed this and C&C is very welcome. (megane67@home.com) Author's Notes: Whew, it's finally done! After a VERY intense couple of weeks of stress, I finally got it together to finish this MST that I've had on the shelf for quite a while now. I'd like to give very special thanks to Alicia for letting me keep the dibs on this MSTing even though I took my sweet time with it and I'd also like to give very special thanks to Dave Hines for still being okay with this MST. I hope I wasn't too rough on ya. ;P MSTing a Star Trek fic was an interesting and fun experience for me and I hope to do more of them in the future if the opportunity arises. :) I've been MSTing for four years now and I want to thank each and every person who's send me words of support and encouragement and who have helped me throughout these last three years. I treasure every piece of fan mail I receive and I consider it a great honor that some people have dedicated their MSTings to me and tell me that I helped encourage them to start MSTing. To all of you, thank you from the bottom of my heart and I hope I can continue to inspire and make you laugh for a long time to come. :) I'd like to give personal thanks to Zoogz, who helped me with some in-depth C&C and suggested many riffs for this MSTing. He is a very funny and talented author and you can find his works at his new webpage http://www.nabiki.com/mst including his Utena MSTing 'Ma Vie et Roses'. He is currently working on a SM/Chrono Trigger self-insert called 'Sailor Trigger', and an original fanfic called 'Point Source', both of them coming soon to a fanfiction archive near you! Also, I'd like to give personal thanks, once again, to Gary Kleppe, whose C&C and suggestions are always appreciated. I can't say enough nice things about this guy! :) If you haven't had a chance to check out his latest works 'The Ghost Prison' and 'For a Dying Friend', you can reach him at kleppe@mediaone.net or his new webpage at http://www.akane.org/gary/comics.html and I'm sure he'll be happy to send the story along to you. Finally I'd like to thank Dave Hines once again for writing 'Lines As Q' and giving me his blessing to MST it as well as a lot of material to work with. I hope you're not offended. It's all meant in good fun. :) 'A MSTing for All Seasons' http://www.nabiki.com/mst Shinji's Vault of Anime MSTings http://lefty.simplenet.com/svam/ Shizen's Versatile Home Page V3.0 http://svhp.webjump.com/ (Alternate site: http://www.tass.org/fanfic/MST3k/) SEASON ONE ------------------ 101- "GAMES" by Artemis (SM Lemon) 102- "ARTEMIS'S LOVER" (Original Draft) by Oscar (SM Lemon) 103- "SAILOR JUPITER VS. GODZILLA" by The Flashman (SM/GODZILLA CROSSOVER) 104- "JUDGE BRAINITITE" by Dr. Thinker (SM Fanfic) w/short "RANMA 1/2: ACCUSED PT. 1" by Karmin (R1/2 Fanfic) 105- "THE WAR" by M. Llave (R1/2 Fanfic) 106- "TRANSITIONS" by Richard Lawson (Nuku Nuku Fanfic) 107- "HELLRAISERS" (Original Draft) by Aaron Eaton (La Blue Girl/Overfiend/Original Crossover) 108- "MEN OF BOKKEN" by M. Llave (R1/2 Fanfic) 109- "BISHOUJO SENSHI ROYAL RUMBLE" by Ken Hoinsky (SM/WWF Crossover) w/short "THE DINNER PARTY" by Chris Curzon (SM/RL Crossover) 110- "XMAS SPECIAL: SAILOR MOON MEETS FATHER CHRISTMAS" by Dr. Thinker (SM Christmas Fanfic) SEASON TWO ------------------- 201- "THAT GIRL" PT. 1-2 by Oscar (SM Lemon) 202- "VIRGIN WARRIOR SAILOR MOON" by Umino (SM Lemon) 203- "*R*P*M*" by Flynn (SM/SPAWN Crossover) 204- "RANKO'S LIFE" PT. 1-2 by Hitomi Ichinohei (R1/2 Fanfic) 205- "TRAPPED" by Mr_Jazz (SM Lemon) 206- "OSCAR TOON" PT. 1-4 by Oscar (SM/DBZ/WB Crossover) 207- "CALIFORNIA DREAMING" by Shakari (Mutiple Crossovers) 208- "A RANMA 1/2 FANFIC" PT. 1-2 by Sheep (R1/2 Fanfic) 209- "TRIANGLE TANGLE" by CATS (SM Lemon) 210- "THE KIDNAPPING" PT. 1-2 by SMendou (UY Lemon) SEASON THREE ---------------------- 301- "A WET DREAM COME TRUE" by Mike Rhea (R1/2 Lemon) 302- "TORTURED ECHO" PT. 1-4 by Trakal (R1/2 Fanfic) 303- "RANMA KILLS!" PT. 1-2 by Sir Asayogure (R1/2 Fanfic) 304- "OKONOMIYAKI SUMMER" by Mike Rhea (R1/2 Fanfic) w/short "UNDER THE MISTLETOE" by Mike Rhea (R1/2 Fanfic) 305- "XMAS SPECIAL: A CHRISTMAS FIT FOR A POKEMON" by Dr. Thinker (Pokemon Christmas Fanfic) 306- "9-BALL DREAMS" PT. 1-2 by Mr_Jazz (SM Crossover Lemon) 307- "WINTER" by Joseph Palmer (R1/2 Fanfic) 308- "UKYO GETS WHAT SHE DESERVES" PT. 1-2 by R_Vincent (R1/2 Lemon) 309- "I WANT TO MEET A PRINCE LIKE DEAR OLD DAD, MOM, SIS, BRO & FRISKY!" by Katherine (Utena Lemon) 310- "THE IO SAGA" PT. 1-4 by Sarah J. Gates (SM Fanfic) SEASON FOUR -------------------- 401- "LINES AS Q PART 2" by Dave Hines (ST:TNG Fanfic) SHORTY! ------------- 101- SUBLIMINALLY SEDUCE WOMEN INSTANTLY! 102- THE UGLIEST WOMEN ON THE NET! 103- PHEROMONES! 104- THE INTERNET SPY AND YOU!! 105- THE SECRET FLAW! OTHER MSTINGS I'VE CONTRIBUTED TO --------------------------------------------------------- "DIMISIONAL TROUBLE" by Dr. Thinker (SM Fanfic) "MOONDUSTED" by Stephen Ratliff (SM/TNG Crossover) Shinji's Vault of Anime MSTings http://lefty.simplenet.com/svam/ "THE COUNTESS CHRONICLES" by Lin Lin (SM Dark Lemon) "9 1/2 CHIPMUNKS" by Toon Dreams (Rescue Rangers Yaoi Lemon) Lefty's MSTings http://lefty.simplenet.com/MSTings/index.htm 'MYSTERY WRESTLING THEATER 3000', POST 105: DOUBLE TROUBLE! (Two interviews with the Ultimate Warrior and '3:16 Rulzs!' by Oracle) Website Number 9 MSTings http://neylonpc.engin.umich.edu/mst3k/mistings.shtml "THE DAY OF EMERGANCE" by Jeffrey Lee (Ranma 1/2/Eddings/SM Crossover) Gary Kleppe's Comics and Manga Page http://www.akane.org/gary/comics.html *New Collaberations* "REDHEADS" by Robert "Kenko" Haynie (Slayers/Ranma 1/2 Crossover) "WILD SILVER" by Francis Bourque (Sailor Moon/Ranma 1/2 Crossover) "RELATIONSHIPS" by Sidewinder (Neon Genesis Evangelion/Sailor Moon Crossover) "A LITTLE CHANGE OF PLANS" by Wishbringer (Neon Genesis Evangelion/Ranma 1/2 Crossover) OTHER GREAT WEBPAGES WORTH VISITING Zoogz's Fanfiction and Fandom Page http://www.nav.to/Zoogz The Homepage of Jeffrey "Oneshot"Wong http://www.anime.sobhrach.com\~jeffwong\index.html 'SuicideBlast' by: Keener http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Temple/3342/Suicide.html Additional links for Keener's stuff -- http://tmffa.com/ -- http://www.redrival.com/myrriden/index.html Flashman's Flash Point http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Dojo/3105/ JOLT!!! http://members.home.net/jolt.caffiene/welcome.htm Website Number 9 MSTings http://neylonpc.engin.umich.edu/mst3k/mistings.shtml Lord Carnage's Cursed Fanboys Page! http://carnage.fanfic.org A Sailor Moon Romance http://moonromance.simplenet.com/ Zen's Fanfiction Page http://www.mindspring.com/~databank/fanfics.html Webdragon's Lair http://members.tripod.com/~WebDragon/ Sean Gaffney's Webpage http://www.thekeep.org/~sean/index.html Seanbaby's NES Page http://www.seanbaby.com/nes.htm ">Dave looked up and saw Marrissa. "Ahh!" Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and (c) 2001 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. Keep Circulating the Fanfics....