"Dear Isabella III"
MiSTed by Adam Cadre
Original story by Stephen Ratliff

> Dear Isabella,
>         Marrissa finally broke down.
Crow: Guess we'll have to have her destroyed.
Mike: Off to an awfully dark start, aren't we?
Crow: Hey, I could've said we'd have to put her out to stud.
[all shudder]

> After speending two months acting like a Vulcan,
Tom: You mean wooden and showing no trace of personality?  All Ratliff's characters act 	like that!

> she suddenly started crying when Captain Picard complimented her
> prize winning science project.

Crow [as Marrissa]: "Daa-aa-aad!  You're making me look like a geek in front of the whole 	school!  Now I'll never be popular!"

> Poor Captain.  He gives glowing praise to his adopted dauther
> and she breaks out in tears.
Mike: "Good job, daughter" is "glowing praise"?
Tom: Sure.  Remember, we're dealing with Ratliff here.  He thinks "your
     latest story was marginally less mind-bogglingly awful than usual"
     is a rave review.
     
> To make matters worse, Marrissa fell asleep while he held her on his lap,
Mike: Uh, boy.  Ratliff once again lives out his fantasies through ol' Jean-Luc.

> attempting to comfort her and having no idea why she was crying.
Tom: Makes sense.  Humbert could never figure out why Dolly was crying either.

> While it was obvious that the Captain cares for her, I don't think he
> ever thought that he'd have Marrissa cry herself to sleep in his lap.
Crow: Yeah, usually you'd have to pay an extra $50 for something like that.

> Any way, Marrissa is returning to normal now.
Tom: Wiping out alien races, obsessively recounting her accomplishments,
     crushing all who stand in her way...

> She's laughing at Shayna's practical jokes again,
Mike: Ha.  Whoopee cushion.  Fun-nee.

> and woe to the crewman whose holodeck adventure extends into her training time.
Crow: Just yesterday she threw a naked and disoriented Geordi LaForge out into the hall!

> She still hesitates when mentioning someone's parents, and has a sad look in her eyes,
Mike: Sad, psychotic, same difference.

> but she is no longer hiding it.
>         Now if I could get her to get out some more ...
Tom: Out?  Out where?  Into the screaming vacuum of space?
Crow: We can only hope.

>                                     ____   
>                                    /  |/  / Your Friend,
>                                   /      /  _       _
>                                  |      /  / | /_  / |
>                                  \___/ /\_/\/\/ /_/\/\/
Mike: Dear Clara, Why do your letters always revolve around Marrissa?
      Don't you have a life of your own?  Please, don't write back
      till you've gotten over this dangerous fixation.  Your friend,
      Isabella.  PS: There's no such thing as strawberry juice.

  -----
 Adam Cadre, Durham, NC
 http://www.duke.edu/~adamc