From billfl@hiwaay.net Mon Nov 13 22:07:45 2000 Hiya! It's time once again for my latest MiSTing. Actually, it's "mine" only in the sense that I edited it. I couldn't have done it without my mad posse - Matt Blakwell, Doug Gale & TV's Francis. Anyway, this is "Out of Time", which is a sequel to by Dave Hines to Dave Hines's story "Lines As-Q". It's a self-insertion piece that takes place in the Marrissaverse and guest stars - ah, but that would be telling. Settle back and enjoy the latest from Bill Brains, Inc. Bill L. 57776 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ billfl@hiwaay.net http://home.hiwaay.net/~billfl "If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. And if you're smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you." Isaac Jaffee (Robert Guillome), "Sports Night" From billfl@hiwaay.net Mon Nov 13 22:10:03 2000 [SOL - Mike is sitting at the bridge console, reading a copy of the Sluggy Freelance collection "Game Called on Account of Naked Chick" and polishing off a plate of french fries] Mike: Hah! Man, this Plan Nine stuff is great! [notices Cambot] Oh, hey, all. Mike Nelson here on the SOL, relaxing and having a little snack while I catch up on my reading. I'm not sure where the bots have gotten off to, but I'm sure they're just - they - what th'... [As we hear the approaching sound of rhythmic clapping, Tom, Crow & Gypsy enter from stage left, dressed in what are obviously matching yellow-and- black striped waitperson outfits (Use your own imagination to design one for Gypsy - it's fun!). Crow, sporting a luxuriant handlebar mustache, is carrying a huge cheesecake with a candle on top]. Bots: [singing/chanting] 1! 2! 1! 2! 1-2-3-4! Happy happy birthday, to our friend so true, Happy happy birthday, that is our wish to you! So have a happy birthday, here way up above - Happy happy birthday from the Satellite of Love! *Hey!* Mike: You guys! No way! How'd you know today was my birthday?! Crow: Aaaah, that's our little secret, Mikey! But it's our policy that all birthday guests here at C.T. O'Robot's Satellite of Love and Grill get themselves a free dessert! Tom: Yeah, and you'll love this one - Megacheesecake! Mike: Wow! You bots are the best! Tom & Crow: We know. Gypsy: Make a wish, Mike! Mike: Oh, okay! [Closes his eyes for a second then blows out the candle to many cheers] Well, dig in, all! Tom: Thanks. Say, Nelson, how old *are* you today, anyway? Mike: I shouldn't tell but - oh, what the heck? I'm 36. Gypsy: Oh, my. It seems like only yesterday we found you on our doorstep. Mike: Yep. But it was actually a little over six years ago - well, if you don't count the 5 centuries we all spent wandering around as disembodied energy. Crow: And you know what that means, don't you, Mike? Mike: That it's a good thing I'm able to somehow get clean undies up here? Crow: Well, besides that! It means you've lived a *sixth* of your whole life on the SOL! Mike: Well - I suppose so, yeah. Crow: Just think - 17% of your entire existence has been spent right here, imprisoned on this little satellite, cut off from the rest of humanity - except for a few robots, a couple of sadistic mad scientists and all their evil henchpeople! Mike: [smile fading] Uhm, yeah, y-you're right. Crow: I mean, WOW!! Think of all the neat stuff that's passed you by while you've been marooned up here! Boy, too bad you missed out on all those prime years of your life, bucko! Mike: [Now looking vaguely disturbed] Uh-huh. Uh, that, that's true. Tom: Crow, maybe you shouldn't - Crow: And of course, almost every spare moment has either been crammed with wretched little films like "Neptune Men" or "Red Zone Cuba", or drippy little internet postings like "The Eye of Argon" or "Agent Action"! Mike: [looking *very* depressed] I, uh, I see, I see what you m-m-mean. Tom: [hissing] Crow! Ix-nay on the ecap-ray! Crow: [oblivious] On the other hand, of course, when you got here, you were just another loser tempie worker toiling away for sub-minimum wage. So hey! Being trapped 23,000 miles in space for over half a decade was no big loss, right? Say, pass me a slice of that cheesecake, willya? Mike: [devastated] Oh God! What have I done?!? I've wasted my entire life! I'm nothing but a miserable, useless failure! [begins beating his head against the counter in despair, moaning, in rhythm] *thump*Why?!? *thump*Why?!? *thump*Why?!? *thump*Why?!? Gypsy: Oh my! Tom: D'oh!! Good one, Crow! Crow: What?!? Oh, like *I* did this! I suppose just because *I* recited a comprehensive list of Mike's shortcomings and failures in remorseless detail, it's suddenly *my* fault he's miserably despondent!!! Tom & Gypsy: Yes!!! Crow: Well, geez, if you're gonna pick nits... [light flashes] Tom: We'll be right back. Gypsy: Mike? Mike honey? Tom: C'mon, Nelson, you're denting the Formica [We hear Mike's *thump*"Why?!?" continue under the meatball as we go to...] COMMERCIALS: 1) Less than 40% of users of this drug spontaneously imploded. 2) Stay tuned for this month's 877th "Battlestar Galactica" Chain Reaction 3) Cost of filming the ad - $2.5 Million Cost of airtime - $75,000 The thrill of paying cash - Priceless [SOL - Mike has his head buried in his arms. Crow & Servo, now sans waitstaff uniforms, are on either side of him.] Mike: [mumbling] Where did it all go so terribly wrong?!? Crow: Oh, snap out of it, Mike! What kind of wimpy, pathetic brickhead are you anyway? Tom: Crow, you're not helping! Crow: Tough love's the only way to snap him out of this, Servo. Mike: [still mumbling] Ashes... it's all ashes... Tom: Look, Crow, you've obviously touched some deep-seated neurosis in Mike's psyche here. The only way to snap him out of his little funk is through long and careful therapy, maybe a little anger management, some sessions exploring his... [Gypsy enters with a plate in her mouth which she sets next to Mike] Gypsy: I made peanut butter cookies. Mike: [perks up instantly] Peanut Butter? Wow, thanks, Gyps. Tom: Then again, this *is* Mike we're talking about. Crow: True. [Lights begin to flash] Mike: Look sharp guys, it's Martha & the Pearldellas. [hits button] Crow: [to Gypsy] Peanut butter cookies? Gypsy: It worked, didn't it? [CASTLE FORRESTER - Pearl, Bobo & Observer are all gathered around the camera, looking unusually cheerful, almost - perky] Bobo: Hello, Mike! Observer: Greetings! Pearl: How's every little thing? [SOL] Tom: Uh-oh. Crow: That look scares me. Mike: [mouthful of cookie] Um, hey Pfearl? Fwat's ub? [CF] Pearl: Oh, not much, Mikey. Bobo: Nothing at all. Observer: Just - stuff. Pearl: Stuff! [SOL] Crow: Why do I suddenly have this uncontrollable desire to throw myself out of an airlock? Tom: Tread carefully, all. Mike: So - what's on the menu for today, Mrs. Forrester? [CF] Pearl: Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, tell you what Nelson - I'm gonna answer that in the form of a riddle. Bobo: Ooh, is this like that one about the chicken crossing the road? Because I never did quite figure that one out, y'- [Pearl, still smiling widely, stomps his foot] OWOWOWOW! Pearl: Take it to the other side, monkey boy! Anyway, Nelsmat, here's your riddle. [SOL] Mike: Okay, shoot. [CF] Pearl: Ooooh, don't tempt me. Observer: Would you like for me to start it off, Pearl? Pearl: Please do. Observer: Thank you, madame. *Ahem* Listen carefully, Michael - when is a story about a power-hungry, title-obsessive, uber-successful Starfleet teenager... [SOL] All: Oh no! [CF] Pearl: ...*not* a story about a power-hungry, title-obsessive, uber- successful Starfleet teenager? [SOL] Mike: Oh, well that's - All: Huh? [CF] Pearl: Ah-ah-ah, any more would be telling! Just suffice it to say that as painful as this story will be for you, it will be even moreso for your little tinkertoys there! Brainyboy, do it. [Observer does the little doodley-doodley thing] Bobo: But where does the chicken fit into it, Lawgiver? Pearl: Hmmm, I think it fits right *HERE*! [stomps Bobo's other foot] Bobo: OWOWOWOWOWOW!!!!! [SOL] All: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! WE GOT QUASI-MARRISSA SIGN!!! [Chaos, doors, etc.] [6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O [All enter] Crow: So it's a Marrissa story, but it's *not* a Marrissa story? Tom: Sounds kinda zen to me. >Out of Time Crow: And out of luck. Mike: Is this a story about Dr. Brown's custom plate? >A Marrissa-verse story, All: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! > starring Dave Hines All: AAAAA- [Pause] Tom: The hey? Who is *that*? Crow: I dunno, but he's cutting in on Marrissa's action, so he's pretty much doomed. >by Dave Hines > [Long long long pause] Tom: So then - not only is someone writing fanfic based on Marrissa, but *self-insertion* fanfic based on Marrissa. Mike: Yep. Crow: Hold me, Mike. I feel cold - so v-very, v-v-very c-c-c-c-cold! >Introduction: > > Okay, folks. This story isn't going to make much sense Mike: Well, at least he's up front about it. > unless you've >first read "Lines As-Q", Tom: Why do I get the feeling no amount of advance reading will help this story make sense? > my self-insertion story Tom: [muttering] I'll tell you where you can insert this story. > where a parallel universe >"me" is transported by Q to the timeframe of Marrissa Picard and the >universe created by Stephen Ratliff. Crow: Oh dear sweet baby Torgo! The man is mad! Tom: Some people just plain shouldn't be given the power to create a universe. > As we left that story, Dave had just >purchased a civilian model runabout Mike: From Harry Mudd's used runabout shop, no doubt. Tom: Unfortunately, it had Firestone Landing Pads, and well... > and headed off to parts unknown with >replicated versions of Crow T. Robot, Tom Servo and Gypsy. Bots: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!? Tom: I - we - they - he - it - Crow: Boy, when my lawyer gets hold of *THIS*... > As far as >continuity is concerned, Crow: This story has none. Tom: If you're concerned with Marrissa-verse continuity, seek help. > this takes place between the two epilogues of >"Lines As-Q" and concurrently with the events of Anne-Lise Pasch's >"Generations 2: Generations Ahead" and the early portions of Stephen >Ratliff's "A Royal Wedding". Mike: And several hundred years after the action in "The Red Badge of Courage". > Until the time in which "Dave Hines" actually >appears in a Stephen Ratliff-written story, this is considered to be >"non-canon". > Crow: At that time, it will be considered "too scary for words". >Please send comments to my new e-mail address: boffo97@mail.com. > Crow: I'm just going to sit quietly and not say anything about that address. Mike: Well, that's good. Tom: What a clown this guy is. >http://i.am/davehines/ > Tom: http://i.am/ironman/ Mike: http://i.am/sci.fi/ Crow: http://i.am/sad.strange.little.man/ >Legalities: The majority of the characters and situations in this story are >the property of Paramount Pictures, Inc. Crow: Does that mean I'm now Sumner Redstone's pool boy? Yech! > No harm or dissolution of >copyright is intended. > Tom: That's kind of like trying to dissolve industrial grade titanium with spit. >Other characters and situations are Crow: *Completely* unbelievable, and should not be allowed to exist. > the property of Stephen B. Ratliff, >whose cooperation is very much appreciated. > Tom: Not to mention greatly feared. Crow: Great, we're reading the work of a Ratliff *groupie.* Mike: They prefer the term "Ratliff Enthusiast." >The Dave Hines character is based loosely on myself, and is thus my >property. Tom: Woops! Sorry, Dave, turns out *you're* Paramount property, too. Get ready to appear on a Very Special Episode of "Voyager", along with Triple-H and Urkel! > Nyah. Crow: Well, at least he's professional about it. > Those wishing to use this character in a story should Mike: Wait until they sober up and seriously reconsider it. >contact me at the e-mail address listed above. > Crow: But the warning did no good. Soon, alt.fanifc.davehines was the most prolific newsgroup on the net. >Freedom to archive or repost in any non-profit manner is granted, but >copyright over the story is retained by Dave Hines. > Mike: Curse you, Dave Hines! Have you no respect for freedom of the press? Crow: What about us, Mike? Tom: Yeah, don't we get any say about our copyrights? Mike: I don't think you guys own your copyrights. >======================================== > >Chapter One: > > Some say hell is hot, some say hell is cold. Tom: Some say hell is in the pot, nine days old. Mike: Some say hell is listening to two economists argue about the prime rate for all eternity. Crow: Still others think hell is being trapped in a Satellite and forced to watch bad movies. They're probably right. > Whichever it is, I do >think hell is humid. > Tom: So it's not the hate, it's humidity. > The young soldier allowed his mind to drift as he stalked through >the jungle after the enemy soldier. Crow: It's good he can make time to daydream during his soldiering. > Perhaps this is how it was meant to be. Mike: Trapped in the steaming jungle, with Marrissa so close he could *smell* her. Crow: Ugh! Thanks for the imagery there, Nelson! >Neither he nor the enemy had any squadrons, nor was any support inbound >from any headquarters. Mike: No phone, no lights, no motorcars. Not a single luxury. Tom: Like Robinson Ca-rusoe? Mike: As primitive as can be. > Seeing a flash of red, Crow: Wally West, no! > the soldier fired into the >brush. > Mike: And promptly wiped out the Pomona High Marching Band. > "Gotcha, Dave!" shouted a mocking voice behind him. Soon, the young >soldier felt a sharp pain searing through his back. > Crow: Maybe there's hope for this story yet. > "Ow! Servo! You're supposed to give someone an opportunity to >surrender before you shoot them in the back! Those things hurt!" > Crow: Amazing. Mike: What? Crow: Even in someone else's sick, demented fantasy, it turns out Tom's still a jerk. Tom: Yeah, who'da th- HEY!!! > "You just want to play paintball the wimpy way, don't you, Hines?" >Tom Servo responded as he floated down from his perch. Mike: [sweetly] Aw. It looks like someone's got a little stalker. Tom: Perch? Crow: Servo wanna cracker? Tom: Watch it, you! > These robots that >Dave had created were superior to the original models Crow: [Darkly] Oh, were they now? Tom: Someone's *really* uppity about their bot-building ability! Crow: Yeah, I bet he wouldn't last 10 seconds against Joel! > depicted in an old >television show. Mike: "Television show"? What's he talking about? Tom: It must be that community access special we hosted. The one about the best ways of making cheese fondues. Mike: Oh yeah. It must've had a wider audience than I thought. Crow: Never underestimate the power of cheese, Mike. > Using 24th century technology, it was child's play to give >all the 'bots working arms, and to give Servo a working hover system. > Tom: Hey, my hoverskit works just fine! Crow: How's the arms hangin' Tom? Tom: Shut up, Crow! Crow: Touchy today, Tom? Mike: It's okay, Tom. This story would put anyone in a bad mood. > "Look, I don't think that counted. Do you want me to go over the >rules again?" Dave countered. > Crow: Rule Number One - *never* talk about Paintball Club! > "I know the rules, and of course it counted!" Just then, a subtle >tremor went through the room. > Tom: Oh, now they're playing Quake! Mike & Crow: D'OH!!! > "Hold on, Tom. I didn't program in any seismic activity in this >simulation. Computer, what was that?" > Mike: [Computer] Oh, just your regular, every day starquake. Don't worry about it. > The standard model Federation computer for civilian model runabouts, >nicknamed "Magic Voice" by the ship's occupants Crow: Poor Magic Voice. Tom: Yeah, another innocent bystander caught in the line of fire. Crow: For shame, Dave. [pause] Say, where *is* Magic Voice these days? Magic Voice: [V.O.] Oh, just waiting for someone to speak to me. [sniff] Waiting all these lonely days. All alone. Excuse me. [She begins to cry loudly before exiting the theater.] Crow: But - but - I didn't - Tom: Hey, make Gypsy cry and you've got a hat trick. Crow: Shut up, Servo! > responded "In response to >the current attack upon this vessel, the holodeck's inertial dampeners were >lowered to standard ship's levels." > > "Attack?! Why didn't you tell us?!" > Crow: [Computer] I wanted it to be a surprise. > "You did not ask." returned the ever-monotone voice of the computer. > Mike: Daria Morgendorffer- ship's computer. > "Crap! Computer, end program and exit holodeck! C'mon Servo!" > Tom: [getting up] Ok... anywhere but this story. Mike: Sit down, Tom. Tom: Well, it was worth a try. > In response to Dave's order, the holodeck returned to its standard >appearance, that of a small black room with yellow grids on the walls. Tom: As well as a lovely print of dogs playing poker. Crow: Interior decorating by the Minneapolis Road Department. > The >addition of the small holodeck to the runabout had been expensive, but Dave >felt he deserved a treat. Mike: He had rolled over, shook hands, and played dead on command. Crow: So a holodeck's a "treat", huh? Apparently, Dave's never watched any actual "Star Trek" in his life. Tom: Why not just volunteer to carry 50 gallon drums of nitroglycerin? > As the doors swished open, Dave and Tom Servo >rushed to the front of the ship. > Mike: It must be hard to play "New World Man" while running, huh Tom? Tom: Laugh it up, dough boy. >Chapter Two: > > "Oh, is that the best you've got?! C'mon ya pansies!" The voice of >Crow T. Robot rang out as Dave and Tom entered the bridge. > Crow: Oh Lord, I hope my voice hasn't changed again. > "Gypsy? Tom: And now he's dragging Gyps into it! That's it! Put up your Dukes, Hines! I'll moiderlize ya! Crow: I hesitate to point it out, but remember the non-functional limbs thing? > Would you mind telling me what's going on?" Dave asked the >purple robot hooked into the ship's navigational sensors. > Mike: [as Gypsy] I think we're screwed. > "Hi, Dave! This big ship demanded we surrender, and Crow started >antagonizing them." > Tom: So, it's just business as usual with Crow then? Crow: Hey! Who was it who broadcast a Bronx Cheer on all hailing frequencies when that Borg Cube appeared? Tom: Yeah? Who the one who called the Zykonian ambassador, and I quote, "A Big Bag of Snot"? Crow: Well, who told the... Mike: Guys? Later, please? > "Evasive action, Gypsy!" > Mike: And Gypsy began to dodge about the room. > Gypsy turned back towards Dave. "Brilliant strategy, Sun Tzu! What do >you think I've been doing?!" > Mike: [Dave] It kind of looked like you were dancing "The Cabbage Patch" while singing "Tangerine Speedo". Crow: [Gypsy] Well, duh. What do you think evasive maneuvers are? > Dave did a slight double take at Gypsy as Crow hurled another >imprecation at the attacking vessel. > Crow: Hey, where's his cybernetic Mike at? Tom: Yeah, how come you escape unscathed here, Nelson? Mike: [a touch smugly] Just lucky I guess. > "Sheesh, you guys! Does Starfleet Academy teach people how to aim by >having them play Whack-A-Mole!?" > Crow: Yep. It's part of the carnival section of the training, along with ring toss, cotton candy eating, and Advanced Tilt-a-Whirl. > "Starfleet Academy?! Crow, get away from there!" Tom: And quickly! That game was a total dog! It might corrupt your hard drive just by being near it! > Dave lifted the >golden robot up and away from the communications station to a slight >protest Tom: [Crow] Waaah! Put me down! I'm afraid of heights! > and manned the station himself. "Um, hi. This is Dave Hines of the >S.O.L. Is there a problem?" > Tom: [Ship's commander] No, we just wanted some target practice... you guys just go on with what you were doing. > "Civilian Ship Sol," the response came. Crow: Sol Bernstein? The guy that runs the Deli on 112th? Mike: From Starfleet's "old Jewish Guys" line of ships. > Dave hated when people >confused the name of his ship with the home star of Sector 001. "This is >Captain Rehtul Naols Crow: Captain Re-tool Nails? Tom: I think he means Captain Obvious Anagram. > of the U.S.S. Neylon! Mike: Hey, it's Star Fleet #9! Crow: I know that ship! They starting building it and then left it sitting alone for 6 months! > You are hereby ordered to lower >your shields and head immediately to Deep Space Nine by the authority of >UFP Temporal Investigations! Tom: ["Naols"] Your misuse of established characters is a clear violation of Federation Protocols. I'm going to have to ask you to power down this story right now. > Further failure to comply immediately will >result in your destruction!" > Crow: In other words, immediately head to a highly populated area to disrupt the timeline further. Great idea. > That was no problem, thought Dave, since he was headed to Deep >Space Nine anyway. Mike: Dave's lifelong ambition was to count Ezri's spots, and he was an optimist. > For a man out of time, the wormhole inhabited by the >non-linear "Prophets of Bajor" seemed attractive. Tom: Almost alluring. Crow: Plus, it was "Time Travelers Drink Free!" Night at Quark's. > Bringing the ship up on >the tactical display revealed it to be a small cutter, Tom: Billy Barty, M.D.! > like the kind he had >heard of being assigned for TI work in his conversations with Martin. > Crow: [Martin Lawrence] What up! Mike: My TI hasn't worked since the early 80's. I sure would like to play Tunnels of Doom again. > "No problem! Sorry for the confusion. Gypsy, lower the shields and >come to the course that the nice man in the destructive ship wants, will >you?" > Bots: Wuss! > "Dave, you're just no fun at all!" remarked Tom Servo. > Tom: Say, he kind of reminds me of someone. [The bots turn in unison to face Mike.] Mike: Hey! > "Remind me to insert some sub-routines in the two of you that >indicate that self-preservation is a wee bit more important than being >funny, will you?" Mike: Ah, a John Belushi sub-routine. Good idea. > Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose. Crow: Then his finger entered the ready room of his nose. Mike: Ewww. > This promised to be >a long day. > Crow: [radio] And welcome back to our 28-hour Hoyt Axton song marathon! Tom: A *very* long day. >Chapter 3: > > General Kira Nerys manned the communication station aboard DS9's Ops >area. Crow: [Kira] Hmm. I *am* a general. I should probably order someone to perform these minor tasks for me. I'll think more about it after I fix coffee for the staff. > "Civilian Runabout SOL, please land at Docking Pad 3..." > > She was interrupted by a chorus of three voices responding from the >ship, "That's the one with the big 'Three' on it! Ha ha!" > Mike: Yes, it's easily found by its pictures of Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin. > "Um, yes... In any event, Mr. Hines, you will be required to >deactivate all systems aboard your vessel and deactivate your... automatic >systems." Crow: [Kira] Please shut down your heart, your lungs, and your eyeblink subroutine. > Kira was not all together sure about those robots the suspect >had. Tom: She's in awe from our presence. Crow: Natch. We're so much cooler than that Data guy. > The design seemed horrifically inefficient. Crow: Yeah, who wants a robot with a big gumball machine for a head? Tom: Or one with a goofy looking beak? > However, she was more >concerned about these charges Mr. Hines was being brought up upon. They >seemed contrary to both Bajoran and Federation law. > Crow: Well, the "biting a jawbreaker instead of sucking on it" *was* legit on Bajor, but everything else... > "You look like something's on your mind, General." a deep voice >behind her interrupted her reverie. > All: Sean Connery?!? Tom: He's run out of earth babes to hit on and now he's off to the stars! > "In your office, Admiral?" > Tom: [Sisko] No, it looks like you have something on your mind right here. > "You know the drill by now." > Crow: [Kira] Yessir! The Craftsman they have on sale at Sears this week with the extra bit set! You wanted it for your birthday, correct? > Although Admiral Sisko had claimed that his service as the Emissary >was finished when he had returned to corporeality, many Bajorans including >Kira still thought of him in that manner. Mike: Still many others remembered him fondly as "Hawk". > In addition, Benjamin had also >become one of her best friends, which was one of the main reasons the two >of them had both resisted reassignment despite their advances in rank. Tom: Besides, running a space station is hard - they really do need an Admiral and a General to keep it running. > The >two entered the office once occupied by the reviled Gul Dukat. > Crow: They moved over to stand by the reviled Gul Dukat's coffee maker. > Kira sat in the chair in front of Sisko's desk and began speaking >immediately. Tom: [Kira] Look, how come those weasels on the Enterprise get a movie deal, but we get bupkus? Come on! I can out-act Gates any day of the week! > "Ben, I don't like this. Mike: [Kira] I've *never* liked this chair! It's too itchy! > TI has offered no proof of these >allegations against this Mr. Hines. Crow: [Kira] And this "Knows all the words to Mambo #5" charge! We haven't prosecuted anyone for that in centuries! > I mean, 'Temporal Espionage'?! He was >transported to this time by Q, not some extraordinarily hypothetical late >20th century time travel project!" > Crow: [Kira] I mean, no one's even *seen* Dean Stockwell in years! Mike: She must not know about the Logan-Preston project of 1988. > "I agree with you, Nerys. I'm in the process of filing legal >protests on Mr. Hines' behalf, but the whole process is being bogged down >on technicalities of whether or not Mr. Hines is even a Federation citizen! Crow: I vote no, and that he be executed right now. >When Captain Clinton and her crew returned, Tom: [Sisko] They immediately started pestering Keiko for campaign contributions. It was so embarrassing. > they at least had been members >of the military in their time, Crow: Which is more than her dad could say. > but Mr. Hines doesn't have that luxury. Mike: So, only members of the military get Federation citizenship? The Marrissa-verse is a fun place, isn't it? Tom: That's no problem, just let him take the Kobyashi Maru test and become a Starfleet Captain. Then he'll have to be made a citizen. Mike: Wow, Tom. I think you've actually got this place figured out. > It >should all work out, but in the meantime, Odo will handle this all in his >way." > Mike: And Odo's way involved kazoos! And lots of them! > Kira smiled at the mention of her fiancee. Crow: Funny, I didn't hear Alexander's name mentioned. > Even before his brief de >facto assignment as Alpha Quadrant Ambassador to the former Dominion, he >hadn't been one to tolerate bureaucrats. Tom: Now, of course, he just chops them up into tiny cubes and sprinkles them on his salads. > His time in the Gamma Quadrant had >helped to erase the few insecurities he had. Mike: Well, that and the blankie he now carried everywhere. > Yes, Odo would handle it. > Crow: Al Pacino will handle things ... Odo's Way! >Chapter Four: > > "This is outrageous! Mike: I'm not gonna pay a lot for this muffler! > I demand that you beam the prisoner directly >to the brig!" > Tom: [Col. Klink] No vun has effer ezcaped from Deep Space 13! > Odo glanced back. "You *demand*, Mr. Naols?" > Crow: [Odo] Well, if I knew where Mr. Naols was, I might give him to you. > "That's Captain Naols!" > Crow: [Odo] Whatever. I still don't know where he is. > "On your own ship, you are the captain, and you will be addressed as >such. But on this station, Mr. Naols, the fact that you do not hold a rank >in any military organization confirms your title as Mister." > Tom: [Odo] Though if you prefer it, I can call you "Miss Thang". > "Admiral Sisko ordered that my request be complied with!" > Mike: ["Naols"] Plus, he complied that my order be requested! > "Admiral Sisko is complying with your request. He has some... >acquaintance with the Office of Temporal Investigations." > Crow: [Odo] He knows Phil. You know. From accounting? > "Then beam the man directly to the brig!" > Mike: But The Man is holding them back! > "However," Odo continued, "despite the fact that we are confining >Mr. Hines at TI's request, he has not been formally accused of any crime >that would warrant treatment as a criminal." Tom: Then why are they even locking him up in the first place? Crow: Ah, law enforcement agencies are always doing little favors like this for one another, y'know? "You unlawfully incarcerate my prisoner, and I'll unlawfully incarcerate yours." > Seeing that Mr. Naols was >about to comment, Odo continued. "I shouldn't need to remind you, Mr. Naols >of the findings reached in 'UFP vs. Berlingoff Rasmussen, Stardate 46172'. > Crow: [Odo] Rasmussen won with a ninth-round TKO. Tom: Uh, didn't he steal random things from the ship to take back to the past and pretend to invent? Crow: Apparently, TI didn't think changing the past was important that time. Mike: And it's not like stealing is a crime or anything. > "Mr. Hines has not been formally charged with any crime, and he is >surrendering himself to our custody voluntarily. Tom: [Odo] Yes, yes. We've already scheduled a mental competence check for him. > Although, I would imagine >that the fact that your ship fired warning shots without communicating with >the captain of the vessel would warrant some assault charges. Crow: Or if you're a Klingon, it'll get you a quick promotion. > Therefore, I >will at least permit Mr. Hines the dignity of being able to walk to the >holding cells." > Tom: If it was me, I'd beam myself *everywhere*. Crow: Yeah, walking is so... pedestrian. > Rehtul Naols was livid. Mike: Hmm. I have a sneaking suspicion that I've seen this character before. Crow: You're probably thinking of Iak Nniw or Lug Takud. Tom: Yeah, Naols is a completely new character. > "I will see you before a review board for >this, Constable!" > Crow: ["Naols"] Oh, before you go, can you get rid of this parking ticket for me? > Odo smiled at him with tight lips. "I'll be sure to look forward to >it, Mr. Naols." > Tom: [Odo] I love the smell of review boards in the morning. It smells like ... bureaucracy! >Chapter Five: > > "Look, I'm not sure what they're after. We just don't want any >trouble." > Mike: And suddenly, we're in a police drama. Crow: Harry Callahan will be busting through that door any second now. > "Come on, Dave! At least let us come with you! We can be your crack >legal defense team!" > Crow: [Tom] I've seen every Seinfeld episode with Jackie Childs! I'm sure I can fake it! > Dave looked at the golden robot, Crow. Mike: [Dave] Is that a bowling pin...? Tom: [Crow] No! It's my beak, and I'll ask you not to make fun of it. I'm very *sniff* sensitive about it... [crying] > "First off, you have gotten >us into enough trouble already. Crow: [Dave] I mean, okay. I haven't blown up any planets yet... Mike: Hey! I said I was sorry! > Secondly, DS9 control insisted that I shut >down 'all mechanical and electronic devices on board'. Mike: [Hines] And place my tray table and seat back in their upright position. > I don't think the >satellite illusion amused them too much. Tom: Yeah, but it slew 'em at the Montreal Comedy festival! Mike: [Dave] And broadcasting "Son in Law" over their shipboard communications... Well, that was just cruel. > Unfortunately, 'all mechanical and >electronic devices' includes you guys." > Tom: Typical - no respect. Crow: Yeah, just like a human. When the bots get too inconvenient, just toss 'em aside like an old toaster. Tom: How can you even stand to look at yourself, Nelson? Mike: So I have to suffer for the sins of Dave Hines? Crow: You're our vicarious human. > Dave finished flipping a few switches. "Computer, power down all >ship's systems except basic life support, Class C." Tom: Immediately, students with lower grade point averages were asphyxiated. > The computer emitted >its standard compliance tone as the ship became dark around them. The three >'bots remained active. > Mike: Drinking Ensure will help you stay active right into your five hundred fifty's. > "Trust me, guys. I'll get this squared away, come right back, and >we'll be off again. Tom: Just keep telling yourself that. > It'll just be like you took a short nap or something." Crow: I wanna finish watching cartoons first! Tom: Can we have a drink of water first? Crow: Read us a story! Tom: Yeah, "Hamster Huey & the Gooey Kablooie"! >With a heavy heart, Dave continued. "Computer, place Crow T. Robot, Tom >Servo and Gypsy into sleep mode." [Tom & Crow start snoring] > These automatons had been his only >friends outside of the now-incommunicado Martin Sussex since he had arrived >in this... dimension, as Dave preferred to think of it. Crow: Most thought of it as a sound stage. > Q had seemed to >infer that this was his future, as was also implied by some of the fanfics >back in the 20th century, but that whole concept seemed just too bizarre to >be true. > Mike: Not to mention just a little sad. Tom: But if it *is* true, well then, Sonic should be showing up soon. > "Computer, open airlock." The ship's door swished open, Mike: And the ship's atmosphere was sucked out into the airless void. Crow: [Dave] Whoops! Forgot we weren't docked! > and one of >DS9's airlock doors rolled open. At the other side of the airlock stood >Odo, whom he recognized from television back home, Tom: Dave's a big Benson fan. > and the man who had >commanded the ship which brought them in. > Crow: Why's Nick Seafort on DS9? > "Welcome to DS9, Mr. Hines. Tom: [Odo] Feel free to bring your 57 varieties with you. > I apologize for the necessity of having >to place you in our holding cells. Admiral Sisko is working on making that >stay as short as possible." > Mike: [Odo] He wants your fanfic-writing hinder out of here, toot sweet! > "Lead on, Constable. Though I don't mind tell you, I spend a lot of >time in holding cells for a law-abiding citizen." > Crow: And that citizen is extremely grateful. > Mr. Naols spoke up for the first time. "And are you a law-abiding >citizen, Mr. Hines? Are you really?" > Tom: And have you allowed the giks to disassimilate, Mr. Hines? Have you? > "I think so." > Mike: [Dave] I mean, I was drunk *most* of the time, but I don't *think* I broke any laws. At least not any important ones. > "We'll see." > Crow: Not very sure of himself, is he? Tom: Let's take five, guys. [All leave] O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6] [SOL - Mike & the bots are on the bridge] Tom: So this Hines guy is using us as peripheral characters in his little story, huh? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. Gypsy: [OS] AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! Mike: I'll take that as one vote for "insulted". Gypsy: [entering stage left] I am *mortified*! I am *outraged*! *I* *am* *humiliated*! Mike: I assume this is about the story, Gyps? Gypsy: Yes! Crow told me all about it! [Mike & Tom just look at Crow] Crow: What?!? Tom: Crow, do you even know what "tact" and "restraint" mean? Crow: Yeah. So what's your point? Mike: [starts to speak, then stops] Never mind. Look, Gyps, I'm really sorry Dave put you in his story without checking first, but look on the bright side - at least in his version of the future, you're still active and functioning 400 years in the future. Gypsy: *sigh* Yeah, I guess so. [she rests her chin on the console] Tom: Yeah! I mean, think about it, Gyps! In Dave's world, you'll be able to see all the wonders of the Star Trek universe! Crow: Boy! Wouldn't that be something? The entire United Federation of Planets, just waiting to be explored! Mike: It's something all right. What's the first thing you'd do, Crow? Crow: Ummmmmmmmmmm - I'd probably visit Graceland. Mike: [pause] But we have Graceland here in *our* time. Crow: Yeah, but I've never been to it. Mike: O-o-o-okay. Um, what about you, Tom? What would *you* do in the Star Trek Universe? Tom: Oh, that's easy. I'd take a flyer out to the Delta Quadrant and hook up with Voyager. Crow: Voyager? What in the world for? Mike: You'd lead the ship back to safety and home, right? Tom: Yes! Well, no. Well, kinda. Mike: Meaning? Tom: Meaning, I'd kick bring it home myself - my way! Crow: You wanna *steal* Voyager? Tom: Nah, just re-order it a little. You know, me as Captain, Janeway as Neelix's junior assistant floor scrubber, Chakotay with the stick out of his hinder, Naomi Wildman banished to the Wesley Crusher Memorial Alternate Dimension for Child Prodigies - like that. Mike: I see. Crow: Uh-huh. Tom: And of course I'd - create a couple of new positions. Captain's woman sort of things, y'know. Mike: Interesting. Depraved and demeaning but interesting. Tom: [whispering] Jeri, Roxanne - call me. Crow: Poor deluded little robot. Mike: Now me, I think I'd go and visit Sirius. Tom: Sirius? That's an odd choice. Crow: Any particular reason for picking Sirius, Mike? Mike: Well, yeah. I'd like to go into the field of cardiovascular research there. Tom: Okaaay, right. Mike, this isn't leading up to some lame joke about being "Sirius as a Heart Attack", is it? Mike: [looking deflated] Um, well - no? Crow: Wrong answer, but thanks for playing. Gypsy: *sigh* Crow: What about you, Gyps? Tom: Yeah, what would *you* do? Gypsy: Well, I'd *like* to get my own shuttle, the U.S.S. Richard Basehart, and cruise around sight-seeing. But I can't, because Dave put me to sleep, then abandoned me. Mike: Aw, Gypsy. [hugs her] Gypsy: *You* wouldn't just stick me in sleep mode and leave - would you, Mike? Mike: Of course not, Gypsy. [lights flash] We'll be right back. Tom: What about us, Mike? Mike: We'll talk. Crow & Tom: Hmmmm.... [The meatball takes us out to...] COMMERCIALS: 1) Trade online at throwing-good-money-after-bad.com 2) It's not just a Showtime cast-off, it's a SCI-NEMA ORIGINAL!!! 3) Einstein searches his soul and finds - the Pepsi girl? "Du-uuuh!" +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ billfl@hiwaay.net http://home.hiwaay.net/~billfl "If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. And if you're smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you." Isaac Jaffee (Robert Guillome), "Sports Night" From billfl@hiwaay.net Mon Nov 13 22:12:39 2000 [All Enter] Mike: Okay, fine, I promise if I ever stick you in sleep mode, I'll tuck you in first and kiss your teddies goodnight. Crow: And don't forget to leave the nightlight for Tom - he's scared of the dark, y'know. Tom: Am not! >Chapter Six: > > Some time later, Dr. Julian Bashir stood outside Dave's holding cell. Crow: [Bashir] Hello. I just thought I needed some screen time, so here I am. So, how about them Mets? >"Pardon me, Mr. Hines, but per station regulations, I have to do a brief >medical exam on all incoming prisoners. The examination is non-invasive. >May I proceed?" > Tom: [Bashir] Of course, I mean "non-invasive" for *me*. Now bend over while I put on the spiked rubber gloves. > "Sure," replied Dave with a smile flashing on his face, "But how >will I ever fit you into my busy schedule?" he sarcastically asked, while >waving his arms around the otherwise empty cell. > Tom: [Dave] Look! See how these invisible flying elves keep pestering me with memoranda? Crow: It's Trek, Tom. There might actually *be* invisible flying elves there. > "Guard, alter the frequency of the cell's forcefield to be permeable >to medical tricorder readings." Dr. Bashir instructed the ubiquitous guard. Mike: I remember that guy! He was a bank guard in "Heat"! Crow: Oh, and he was in the Volcano in "You Only Live Twice"! Tom: And he was a Secret Service agent in "In the Line of Fire". Mike: Wow! Dave went for the big names when he cast this. >"Fascinating. Dr. Johnson released a preliminary paper on your quantum >signature. Mike: [Bashir] Apparently, it only takes three of yours to get one Mark McGwire! > You really should be back in the 20th century according to this >readout." > Tom: [Dave] Well, I'm not going back until I see Episode Three. It's going to open any day now. > "What? And miss out on all these scenic holding cells?" > > "Otherwise, you seem to be in good health. Replicator food in the >24th century is generally a bit more healthy than what you're used to." > Mike: [Bashir] Heck, you simpletons in the 20th century thought steaks and cigarettes were bad for you. *snicker* > "Yeah, but the hamburgers taste a little funny." > Crow: [Bashir] Oh, that's just the cow testicles. You'll get used to it. > With that, Quark entered, holding a PADD. Tom: [Falsetto] Mom? Sometimes I feel fresh, but not Ferengi fresh. > "On behalf of the Bajoran >Provisional Government," Crow: So it's still "provisional"? Geez, when are the Bajorans going to get a real government going, anyway? > he began in a tone of voice that indicated he was >weary of this formality, Mike: Hey, just like the guy down at the DMV! > "Quark's Bar, Grill and Holodeck Emporium is happy >to offer delicious and sustaining food to its temporary guest." > Crow: [Quark] It's Cardassian leftovers. Hope you like warm lizard eggs. Mike: Does no one have anything better to do than hang around Dave's cell? > Just then, Bashir's communicator beeped, and Sisko's voice announced >"All Senior Staff to Briefing Room A, please." > Mike: Star Trek - Bureaucracy! This fall on UPN! > "We're done here." said Bashir, shutting his tricorder down. Crow: Good timing. > "Now >let me go see about getting you out of here. Guard, return the cell >forcefield to standard, please." > Tom: [as Bashir] On second thought, make it light blue with red polka-dots. > "What would you like for dinner tonight, Mr. Hines?" asked Quark. > Crow: [Dave] Hmmm, let's see - oh, how's about a nice big steaming plate of farm-fresh GET ME OUT OF HERE?!?!?! > "Do you know what pizza is?" > > "Of course!" > Tom: [Quark] Although why someone would want to eat molten rock is beyond me. > "Good. Give me a 12 incher with extra cheese, pepperoni and >pineapple." > > "Pineapple? On pizza? That's disgusting!" > Tom: [Quark] What about Canadian Bacon and Tube Grubs instead? >Chapter Seven: > > "Whoever this Mr. Naols is," began Sisko, Crow: [Sisko] He's definitely not just somebody named "Sloan" spelling his name backwards. Nope. Not at all. > "he seems to have some >sort of influence. Tom: Look! He's been in the Lincoln Bedroom three times! > When I took this 5th and 6th rank pip, I thought I was >done with the type of interference I'm getting on the issue of Mr. Hines' >freedom." > Crow: [Sisko] These focus group results clearly indicate the public wants Dave voted off the island! > "How so, Admiral?" asked Bashir. > Mike: [Sisko] The 6th pip *did* make me Supreme Ruler of the Federation, right? > "Apparently, the more xenophobic members of the Federation >government are a bit paranoid regarding our friend. Mike: And Ghidorah's little friends make a guest appearance. Crow: There's a lot of anti-human sentiment in the Federation. > At least that's the >impression they're giving." > Tom: Except for Admiral Jellico, who's doing his Nixon impression. > "This is preposterous!" thundered Odo. "That man is no danger >whatsoever to the station or anyone else. Crow: [Odo] I've got a gut feeling! Well, it would be if I actually had guts. So I guess it's an undifferentiated protoplasmic feeling. > I've been a security chief for a >long time, Admiral. You begin to be able to tell these things." > Tom: Which explains why there are so many con artists, thieves, scoundrels, and Ferengi on the station. > "What about a word from Captain Picard?" suggested Ezri Dax, the >station's counselor. > All: [Picard] Engage! > "We have her report, and reports from her crew, who are certainly >among Starfleet's best, Crow: Or at the very least, its youngest. Tom: Let's not let an opportunity to praise Marrissa and her crew pass by. > but the Endeavour's on a classified mission right >now, with an indeterminate length. Tom: Starfleet's finally wised up and exiled them to Delta Vega. > Waiting for Marrissa to save the day >again doesn't seem like a very palatable option this time." > Mike: Not that it ever did, mind you. > "I can speak with former First Minister Shakaar, sir." said Kira. Crow: Not even the non-regulars are spared from showing up in this fic. >"He still retains enough influence that I'm certain that the Provisional >Government would grant Mr. Hines asylum." > Tom: [Kira] Or he might remember that crack Dave made about the Prophets and ask the Kai to declare a jihad on him. Who knows? > "Unfortunately, since his holding cell is currently under Federation >control, no member of this station may aid Mr. Hines in leaving it. Crow: Can you get Vedek Ford to pardon him? > Even if >Mr. Hines' incarceration would later be proven injust, it would be a court >martial offense to any Starfleet officer, or any member of the Provisional >Government under the treaty. Tom: [Sisko] So even if he's innocent, we'll never be able to let him go. > However, if we can get around that conundrum >somehow, Mike: [Sisko] Okay, let's try it one more time - a runabout leaves Bajor heading east at Warp 4.5... > Mr. Hines' having received asylum from the Bajorans would take >priority as he would be on Bajoran territory." > Crow: [Sisko] Then he'll just be trapped on the stinking hellhole that is Bajor until he dies. Oh, no offense, Nerys. > "Sir," asked Lieutenant George Primmin, "isn't it possible that >Temporal Investigations has a reason to do what they're doing?" Lieutenant >Primmin was a Federation assistant to Odo in the station's early years, >before being replaced by Michael Eddington. Tom: And, once a game, he can nullify a Computer Crash. > He returned to the station >shortly after the departures of Worf and the O'Briens. > Mike: In other words, the characters that people actually wanted to see. Great timing there, Dave. > "No. I still have a friend in Temporal Investigations after the >incident with the Orb of Time and the original Enterprise and they're as >much in the dark as we are. If this is legitimate, it's being handled all >wrong." > Crow: Oh, c'mon! I mean, a government bureaucracy screwing up?!? No one would *ever* believe THAT! > Dr. Bashir frowned deeply as if troubled by a persistent bad >memory. Mike: He's still traumatized by the time he had to give Worf and Quark a physical on the same day. Bots: Ugh! > After the meeting dismissed, he quickly made his way into his >office and called up a filename he knew by heart. Tom: It was HOT_JADZIA_PIX.ZIP! > He had a suspicion to >verify. > Crow: That Dave's stealing background from game card text? I think that's pretty obvious, myself. Tom: And as it turned out, it *was* Professor Plum with the lead pipe in the conservatory. Who knew? >Chapter Eight: > > Aboard the darkened S.O.L., Dave's voice rang out, "Computer! Place >Gypsy, Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot into full operating status!" > Mike: [muttering] *That* would be nice for a change. Crow: What?! Mike: Nothing. > As the computer signaled its compliance, Tom Servo sprang back to >life yelling "Good morning, Vietnam!" > Mike: And Vietnam shouted back, "Good Morning, Tom Servo". Crow: You sure are a dork in this fic, Tom. > Crow remained on the floor muttering something about not wanting to >go to school today. > Tom: You were saying? Crow: It's that big fifth grader, Joey Curtis - he keeps snickersnagging on me! > Gypsy, was exultant. "It worked!" > > "Ugh! What worked, Gypsy?" asked the slowly rising Crow. > Mike: It's the House of the Rising Crow. Tom: I hear it's been the ruin of many a fanfic. Crow: And oh gawd! I think this is one! > "Hooking a facsimile of Dave's voice into an independent system, >set to issue our full power commands at a set time." > Mike: A tape recorder and an appliance timer would have had the same effect. Tom: I wonder how that worked without power. > "Uh huh." said Crow. "What does a 'bot have to do to get some >waffles aboard this ship?" > Tom: Hey, there's a Waffle House down by the holodeck. You need to get around the ship more. > "No time for that now!" said Tom. "There's trouble brewing, and it's >right here in River City!" > Tom: Trouble with a capital T, and that rhymes with C and that stands for crap! Mike: Somewhere, Robert Preston is spinning fast enough to run a turbine. > The other two 'bots examined the display screen Tom had called up >and familiarized themselves with the situation as it was currently >unfolding. > Tom: As suspected, we were stuck in the middle of a Ratliff side-effect! > "Alright! We can bust him out! It's station's night cycle, so we're >not likely to run into too much resistance." > Crow: Except for the hordes of vampires stalking the station. > Crow, with his long arms, jimmied the door open. Crow: I like the sound of that - [announcer] The Long Arm of Crow's Law! Tom: Heck, he could have done that with his big mouth. Crow: At least I have arms, slinky boy. Mike: How do you jimmy a giant gear, anyway? > Together, the >three 'bots, Tom hovering, Crow: [Tom] Oooh, look, I'm so special - I *float*! > Crow running with legs at full extension Tom: [Crow] Check me out - I can geek run with my skinny little legs! > and >Gypsy slithering Crow: Uh-oh. She won't like *that*. Mike: Say, how *does* Gypsy get around anyway? Tom: C'mon, Mike, she - uh - she - Crow: Well-l-l-l... All: Hmmmmm... > made their way out into DS9. > Mike: Anyway, I just don't picture Gypsy on a commando raid. Crow: Yeah. She's more of the grizzled Marine commander type. >Chapter Nine: > > "Hey Dave! Wakey-wakey!" shouted Crow. > > "Crow? Huh? What?!" replied a groggy Dave. Dave tended to wake up >slowly. > Crow: Slow seems to be Dave's normal state. > "Time to check out, Dave!" added Gypsy. > Mike: Sorry, Gyps, this is FANFIC MOTEL - where Self-Insertion characters check in, but they *don't* check out! > Tom Servo hovered up to the control panel and began to turn sideways. Tom: Yeah, man! I can Batusi with the best of 'em! >There was a soft clink as magnets attached Servo's bottom hoverskirt to the >control panel, and a whining noise Tom: Oh, that's just Crow, whining because *he* can't fly and dance real cool, heh heh heh. Crow: [muttering] Big show-off! > as Tom began to apply his hover-power >full blast to the panel. Mike: Geez, Servo, use some Gas-X or something!! Tom: Sorry. Bad clams for dinner. > As the panel melted, sounds of shorting out could >be heard, and the cell door flickered off. > Mike: So, you're jet powered now, huh, Tom? Tom: Looks like it. > "Thanks, Tom! Let's go!" The four raced out of the Security area, >past other fields that the 'bots had disabled Crow: Ebbets Field... Tom: Flanders Field... Crow: Field of Dreams... Tom: Mrs. Field's Fishsticks... Crow: We took no chances. Mike: So I see. > and an unconcious Security >Officer who Dave didn't want to ask about. Mike: Looks like Roy's been hittin' the Romulan Ale again. Crow: Luckily, someone forgot to turn on the security sensors, so the computer never noticed all the damage they caused. > Just as they entered the >promenade, they came face to face with Ezri Dax, who had just come off >shift. All: Uh oh. Mike: Well, this has "romantic interest setup" written all over it. > They drew to a halt, wondering what to do next. > Mike: Dave must have missed for Health class that day. Crow: Oh, *I* know what to do next - fall at the feet of the goddess and worship! Tom: Oh, mama! > Ezri regarded the group with a bemused confusion, then tapped her >comm-badge. "Dax to Kira." > Tom: Oh, WOW!!!! Crow: It's like a dream come true! *pantpantpant* Mike: Guys - no, never mind. Enjoy your fantasy life. > Kira Nerys, who had drawn station command during Gamma shift that >night answered, "Yes, Ezri. What can I do for you?" > Tom: [Kira] And no, before you ask, I still don't swing that way. > "Did former First Minister Shakaar grant the request you were >mentioning?" > Crow: [Kira] Yes! They *are* going to play "Hungry Like the Wolf" during the Retro-Lunch Hour! > "Yes, as a matter of fact, he saw to it personally. Why?" > Crow: It must be nice to have a ruler that pays attention to minor details brought to him by his underlings. Tom: Or that pays attention to *anything* brought to his attention! Mike: Sorry, Guys, I'm just not convinced the Satellite's gonna implode if we don't get a snow-cone machine. Crow: Well, don't come crying to us when it happens, Mike. > "Inform the Provisional Government to set out four extra placemats >at dinner. Dax out." > Crow: Bajor's having the Federation over for lunch. Mike: How about at least sending a medical team for the poor security guard they assaulted? Tom: Just an extra, Mike. Plenty more where he came from. > Ezri turned to Dave and the others. Dave was still a little >speechless, given his stress at the current predicament and his usual >shyness around beautiful women. > Tom: Great. He's even more of a geek with the girls than you, Nelson. Mike: Yeah, scary ain't - waitaminit!!! > "Get back in your cell!" stated Dax in an oddly-stilted voice that >resembled intentional bad acting. > Tom: No, no, no, this is "Deep Space Nine", not "Voyager"! > Now Dave was confused. Tom: Oh, only *now* is Dave confused. > "Um... no?" he asked lamely. > Mike: In a voice that resembled unintentional bad writing. > "Oh rats. Mike: Vote Bush! Bots: Whaaa...? Mike: Sorry. Must've been something subliminable. > I've done everything I can do to enforce the ever so >lawful incarceration you were under. Oh well." Ezri turned her back on the >group and walked away, trying not to laugh out loud. Mike: She must be having KitH flashbacks. > Due to the odd >legalities involved, Dave was now under Bajoran asylum. > Crow: They sent him to Arkham? Tom: For writing this? Oh, yeah! > Gypsy was quick to break the silence. "Run!" she yelled to the >others. The four proceeded to run like hell down the promenade, nearly >bowling down poor Rom in the process. > Tom: Yeah, that's a good way to start your stay in the 24th century - just run over the Grand Nagus. I'm sure the Ferengi won't take offense at that and start a crusade against you. >Chapter Ten: > > "Prepare to launch, Gypsy!" ordered Dave as soon as he shut the >internal door to the S.O.L.'s airlock. > Crow: [Tom] If you think that throwing her out of the airlock will help, Dave, then I'm all for it! Gypsy: [OS] I heard that! Crow: *gulp* > "What's all this preparing?! Just go!" Crow demanded. > > "Just go, Gypsy." > All: Gypsy is GO!!! > The S.O.L. broke away from the station and began to pick up speed. > Mike: Five. Six. Seven miles per hour! Tom: They'll reach safety in 7 or 8 millennia, folks! >Chapter Eleven: > Mike: Yep. This story is now creatively bankrupt. Crow: On the other hand, the chapters are getting shorter. Tom: Well, we're going nowhere, but we're making good time. > "What do you mean, he's escaped?" asked an outraged Captain Naols. > Crow: He's gone! Split! Vamoosed! Hit the bricks! Made like a hockey team and got the p- Mike: We get it, Crow, thanks. > "Just that." replied a smug Admiral Sisko, who had just been called >to Ops. "And TI will be receiving a bill from the Bajoran Provisional >Government for some disabled security fields. Tom: [Sisko] Of course, you can just ignore that since we don't use money... > After all, you failed to >inform us that Mr. Hines had access to equipment that could liberate him >from the holding cells. > Crow: [Sisko] If you had just told us he had hired the A-Team... > "Then allow the Neylon to undock to pursue him!" > Tom: Sorry, he's finishing his doctoral thesis. > "I'm so sorry, Captain." chimed in Kira Nerys. "But Bajoran Space >Control insists that all departures of capital starships Crow: Such as the USS Juneau, the USS Salt Lake City, the USS Atlanta... > be spaced at least >one hour apart to avoid environmental damage such as that currently >plaguing the Hakaris Corridor, Tom: Star Trek - Space Traffic Control! Mike: If Ralph Nader ran Starfleet! > and the I.K.C. Hegh'ta All: Gesundheit. > just departed fifteen >minutes ago. Mr. Hines, in our opinion, just does not qualify as the class >3 or higher emergency necessary to override that protocol." > Mike: Technically, wouldn't breaking out of the brig, taking out a security officer, and destroying station property count as criminal activity? Tom: Of course not. > Naols snarled at the two officers. Tom: Wow! He's tough as Naols! Crow & Mike: D'OH!!! > "Fine! Launching shuttlecraft!" > Crow: Oh, this'll be exciting! Like chasing a station wagon using a pair of mini-vans! >Chapter Twelve: > > "I see the shuttlecraft, Gypsy. Can we make for the wormhole?" > Mike: No, you fool! Not without the spice! > "I'm afraid not, Dave. [All start to speak] Mike: Okay, were we all about to do a "2001" Ref? Bots: Yes. Mike: Let's just mark it done and go on then, okay? Bots: 'Kay. > Two Bajoran Interceptors have just been >picked up on sensors! We won't make it to the wormhole in time!" > Mike: I guess you could say they were "Out of Time"! Huh? Huh? Crow: We get it, Mike. > Dave digested this bit of information. Tom: And then took some bromides to settle his stomach. > "Crap! We can't run. Mike: We can't hide! Crow: [Tom] Ooooh, but *I* can still *hover*! Tom: [Crow] Oh, Tom! Have I ever told you you're my hero? You *are* the wind beneath my wings! >The Neylon would catch us before we reach any other star systems. I need >options, guys!" > Mike: Well, there's always SVAM. Crow: [Tom] Let's call Superman! He can get us out of here! Tom: [Crow] If we wallow in our self-pity, maybe he'll let us go! > As the panel near Tom beeped, he exclaimed, "Dave. The Interceptors >are hailing us!" > Crow: They said, and I quote, "Hail you!" > "I'll talk to them!" piped in Crow. > Tom: [Crow] Ohohoh, let *me* be the center of attention! > "NO!" responded the other three in unison. > Tom: And the crew shows an astounding amount of good sense. > "Route it to my screen, Gyps!" Dave ordered. > > Dave's screen lit up, showing an attractive Bajoran female at the >helm of an Interceptor. "Mr. Hines, I am Lieutenant Stens Kara of the >Bajoran Provisional Government. Mike: "Stens Kara" - hmmm, what can we get out of that, guys? Tom: Lessee - there's "Kara Stens", um, "Arak's Nets"... Crow: "S-Net Sarak", "As Ten Kars", "Ass Tanker" - hmmm, I dunno, it's got me stumped. > Your request for asylum has been granted. >Please follow us to landing coordinates three four niner by seven four >zero." > Crow: Okay, right be- wait, that's not Bajor! It's, it's - APE CITY!!!! Mike: Quick, everyone! Bury the Wormhole in the sand up to its waist and get your Pagh Wraith costumes on! Tom: [Charlton Heston] You Maniacs! You blew it all up! > Dave's typical speechlessness when confronted by pretty girls >had just kicked in again, Crow: [Dave] Huh-huh, purty. Purty girl. Huhuhuhuh. > so he was gratified to hear Gypsy report that she >was setting a course for those coordinates. He would have hated to expose >his ignorance about landing coordinates to this girl. > Tom: I don't want to think about Dave exposing *anything* to a girl. > Just then, Captain Naols' face burst onto the screen. Mike: Bleagh! You can see right up his nostrils! > "This is an >unacceptable bureaucratic delaying tactic! The Federation council will >impose a complete embargo on the Bajoran system for this, I can assure >you!" > Crow: Hot embargo action! > Dave had had it with this strutting bureaucrat. Mike: But he'd enjoyed having it more from the cute Bajoran pilot. > He engaged his >ship's external holographic systems. Tom: And instantly, the image of Tom Servo, the most handsome bot in the universe, appeared. > However, rather than re-initializing >the Satellite of Love illusion, he simply made a rather obscene and >impossible anatomic suggestion appear in flashing bright red letters >underneath his ship to the pursuing shuttlecraft. > Mike: Great. The undreamed-of technology of the future at his fingertips, and all he can come up with is the equivalent of scribbling on the restroom wall! > "What does that mean?!" asked a perplexed Captain Naols. > Tom: ["Naols"] "Make Seven Up Yours" - the hell?!? > Dave sighed as he punched the button to terminate the communication. >Sometimes, he hated this century. > Crow: He *still* hadn't figured out what the seashells were for. Mike: And *I* still haven't figured out what this story is for! [All leave] COMMERCIALS: 1) It's Freddie Prinze Jr. & Rachael Leigh Cook in "Another Generic Teen Romantic Comedy"! Rated PG-13. 2) John Edward is a man who can talk to the dead - and bamboozle the living! 3) William Shatner sings Def Leppard for Priceline! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ billfl@hiwaay.net http://home.hiwaay.net/~billfl "If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. And if you're smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you." Isaac Jaffee (Robert Guillome), "Sports Night" From billfl@hiwaay.net Mon Nov 13 22:15:39 2000 [SOL - Mike is holding a large card with the words "ONARYC SENOJ" on it] Crow: Uh, Harry Mudd. Nonono - Cyrano Jones. Mike: Good. [changes to next card, reading "AKSES"] Okay, who's this? Tom: Lessee - Weyoun? No, not that's not right. Brunt? Mike: No, Jeffrey Combs is *not* involved. Crow: Oh, then it's Lursa and B'Etor! Hmmm - naah. Tom: How about - I know! It's Seska! Mike: Exactly! Now this one's a toughy! [changes to next card, "Q"] Tom & Crow: Hmmmmmmmmm.... [Suddenly, the satellite is rocked] Crow: Hey! Tom: What th'... Mike: Cambot, show me rocket # 9, muy pronto! [We see through Rocket 9 that the SOL is confronted with - itself!] Mike: Now what? Tom: Maybe it's from the mirror universe or something. Magic Voice: Careful, everyone. My sensors show that the other Satellite of Love is actually nothing more than a small shuttlecraft, disguised by a very cleverly projected holographic illusion. Crow: A hologram? Mike: On top of a shuttle? Tom: You don't suppose... [Sure enough, the Hexfield viewscreen opens to reveal a heavyset young man inside what appears to be a TNG-era shuttle] Dave: Hi, all. Dave Hines here. All: DAVE HINES?!? Tom: The same Dave Hines who did "Enterprized", or... Dave: [exasperated] No! No! No! I keep telling everyone, I'm *not* the guy who riffed on "Enterprized"! I'm just a guy who happens to have the same name! Crow: Waitasec, then - that means *you're* the Dave Hines responsible for "Out of Time", then, right? Dave: [brightening] Why yes, that's me. Gypsy: [entering stage left] Did someone say Dave Hines was here? Mike: Yeah, Gyps, he's right here. Dave: Hey, great to finally meet... Gypsy: WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA, PUTTING ME TO SLEEP LIKE THAT?!?!? Crow: And what's the deal with hijacking our likenesses anywho? Tom: Yeah, where's our royalty checks?!? Bots: Who do you think you... oughta come over there... how'd *you* like it if... lucky my chick's here, Hines! etc. etc. etc. Mike: Woah, woah, woah, guys, one at a time, give him a chance! Dave: [looking a bit nervous] Uh, heh. So. Um.... Mike: Not quite the reception you were expecting? Dave: Well, to be honest, no. I kinda thought they'd enjoy the wider audience exposure. Crow: I gotta tell ya, Hines, you scare me. And not in any good way. Dave: Whattaya mean? Crow: Look, if you wanna write self-insertion Star Trek fanfiction - hey, knock yourself out! But self-insertion Star Trek *Marrissaverse* fanfiction?!? What the heck were you thinking? Dave: That it's fun when it's fun until someone loses an eye? Crow: Oh. [pause] Well, I can't argue with that. Tom: Hey, Hines, I got a question for ya! How come there's no cybernetic Nelson in your little story, huh? Dave: Well, why? I mean, what would be the point? I'm kind of like the replacement Mike in the story. Not that anyone could replace you, of course, Mike, but, well, it's *my* self-insertion story, so there was just, uh, just no *room* for you. So to speak. Mike: [Waves it off] Don't worry about it. Say, where *are* your versions of these guys, anyway? Dave: Well, they kinda got bored just tooling around the galaxy with me, so they took a sabbatical. Gypsy joined Starfleet, and she's just been named captain of the USS Basehart. Crow decided to go to Earth - he wanted to visit Graceland, for some strange reason. And Tom, uh, Tom's opened a Federation-wide chain of Underwear shops. Mike: Wow! See, guys, you got your wish after all. Well, except for your little Voyager Harem fantasy, Tom. Dave: Actually, he tried that. Came back with a b'atleth through his dome and a Borg implant stuffed in his mouth. Crow: Harh! Tom: Grrrr! Gypsy: I'm still mad at you for putting us to sleep like that! Dave: Aw, Gypsy, don't be like that! It was just a plot device. Gypsy: Hmph! Mike: So what's next, Dave? Dipping back into the Marrissaverse? Dave: Oh, no. I'm expanding my horizons. Crow: You're doing a sequel to "Enterprized"? Dave: [angry] I'M NOT THAT DAVE HINES, OKAY?!?! Crow: Woah. Testy. Dave: [Calmer] Sorry. Anyway, I'm writing a series of self-insertion pieces all based in different universes. Mike: Uh, come again? Dave: Yeah. Look, see, first I return to today in order to lend a helping hand to Mulder and Scully as they investigate a series of bizarre happenings at Point Loma College. Crow: Uh-huh. Dave: [More enthusiastic] Yeah, and then in my next story, I get caught in a time warp and wind up in 1951 Korea, where I get to pal around with those lovably zany madcap doctors at the 4077th! Tom: Yyyyyyeah. Okay, then, well- Dave: Then - then, see, I go back to the future - so to speak, heh heh - but I wind up in the 31st Century, where I meet this bunch of super-powered teens who meet in a clubhouse, and I join them and help them fight off the evil sorcerer Urdrom and... Gypsy: LOOK OUT - CAPTAIN NAOLS IS APPROACHING!!! Dave: *Gah!* Gotta run, guys, it's been swell! So long! [The hexfield irises closed] All: Bye, good luck, don't forget to write, etc. Tom: Wow! Mike: Yeah. Hey, quick thinking, Gyps. Gypsy: No problem. "Plot device", my sweet Aunt Petunia! [The lights go off] All: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! WE GOT SELF-INSERTION SIGN!!! [Chaos, doors, etc.] [6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O [All enter] >Chapter Thirteen: > > "Mr. Naols! I am telling you again! You are not authorized to enter >Bajoran airspace! Mr. Naols! Respond!" > Tom: If you enter the no-fly zone, we *will* scramble the 144th Air Cav division! Mike: Very authoritative sounding. Tom: Thanks - I've been watching "West Wing". > Sisko was getting worried. Rather than break off their pursuit of >Mr. Hines' shuttlecraft, the two shuttlecraft from the Neylon continued on >towards the planet after it and its escort. > Mike: They're gonna shoot down Heidi Fleiss! > "Dammit!" Sisko swore. "General, get me the First Minister's >office." > Crow: Billy Graham on Line One, Admiral. > "Yes, sir." responded Kira. > > Just then, Dr. Bashir arrived on the bridge. "Admiral, request >permission to intercept the Neylon's shuttlecraft." > > "Doctor, this is not the time. We have a very large problem." > Mike: [Sisko] We're supposed to be having the Pattersons over for dinner, and the station is an absolute *mess*! > "It's larger than you think, Admiral. Tom: Braggart. > Our Mr. Naols is none other >than Luther Sloan." > All: GASP! NO! Mike: I would have never guessed! Crow: Sloan nearly outfoxed us all! Tom: No wonder Section 31 is feared throughout space! > Despite his African heritage, Sisko visibly paled at that. Tom: Insert your own Michael Jackson joke here. > Luther >Sloan was a top operative in the ultra-secret Section 31. Crow: [Sisko ] How did you figure it out? Tom: [Bashir] I spelled his name backwards! Crow: [Sisko] What an amazingly lame cover! Tom: [Bashir, muttering] Yeah, it fooled you, though, didn't it? Ya big non-genetically enhanced beef roast! > This >organization, while supposedly dedicated to preserving the Federation, had >conspired in the political downfall of the Romulan Senator Cretak, and >engineered a plague that would have spelled genocide for Odo and all of his >race. Mike: So in order to preserve the Federation, it attacked the Federation's enemies? Crow: Fiends! > Sisko thought that such an organization would cost the Federation so >much of its ideals that it wouldn't be the Federation anymore. Crow: So it'd be, what, the Collective, the Imperial Star Empire, the United Brotherhood of Teamsters Local 485? Help us out here, Dave. > Dr. Bashir >had intimate knowledge of Section 31, Tom: Saaaaay... > as Sloan had long tried to lure the >genetically-enhanced doctor into Section 31's fold. > Tom: Not to mention the fact that Bashir went walking around in Sloan's mind before he "died". > "Permission granted, Doctor. The Defiant is unfortunately offline. Mike: Damned Windows 2000! >You'll have to take a runabout." > Tom: Which is like going on a walkabout, only faster. > "Yes, sir." > >Chapter Fourteen: > > The S.O.L. and one of the Bajoran Interceptors touched down upon the >surface of the planet Bajor at the correct coordinates. Moments after >touching down, an enormous creature with a white hide leapt upon the hull of >the shuttlecraft and began to pound. > Mike: Aaaaah!! Louie Anderson's gone berserk!!! All: Gyah!!!! > On Dave's screen, Lieutenant Stens' face appeared again. "Oh no. >It's a rogue Jem. Tom: They're being attacked by Jem and the Holograms? Crow: That or Jemm, Son of Saturn's finally lost it. > Hang on, Mr. Hines." > > "Rogue Jem" was the slang term on Bajor for a nightmare that refused >to die. Mike: Even 400 years later, they just won't stop showing "Caroline in the City" reruns. > When the Dominion-Alpha Quadrant war ended, a number of the Alpha >Quadrant-bred Jem'Hadar had refused to return to the Gamma Quadrant. Tom: Finally, Janet Reno was forced to send in the INS. > When >their supply of Ketracel White diminished, they would have eventually died >off, had it not been for the Sona, Breen and other races supplementing >their economies with production of the drug, which had various narcotic >effects on other species as well. Crow: Hey - just say "No" to Ketracel White! Tom: Yeah, stop the madness! > Now these rogue soldiers, pathetic >withdrawl-crazed shadows of their former selves, could be turned into >dangerous killing machines by anyone who could supply the White and point >them in the right direction. > Crow: Well, they'd attack anyone in the wrong direction too. Mike: I suspect the Jem'Hadar don't get invited to many Tupperware parties. > The weapons on the Interceptor would eliminate the rogue Jem, but >would tear the shuttlecraft apart as well. Tom: [James Dean] You're tearing my shuttlecraft apart! > Lieutenant Stens had no choice >but to grab a phaser rifle from the armory drawer on-board and employ some >of the tactics she had learned during the occupation. Tom: She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and ran as fast as she could in the other direction! Crow: [Stens] So long, self-insertion boy! See ya in the next fanfic! > She bolted outside of >her ship without bothering to close the armory and began to fire upon the >rogue Jem. > Mike: Aim and shoot. It took her years to learn that. Crow: By the way, how exactly are all these Dominion warriors just showing up on Bajor? Tom: They took a bus, Crow. Duh. > The Jem'Hadar howled as his flesh began to burn away under the >phaser's devastating assault. Crow: Which is ironic, because he *really* needs a tan. > He slowly turned towards the source of the >blast and began to run towards Lieutenant Stens. > Mike: Let's see - someone fires a phaser set on "Deep Fat Fry" at him, so he runs directly *towards* it! Gee, it's hard to figure out why they lost the war. > On board the ship, Dave was monitoring the situation. "I need a >weapon, guys. Any ideas?" > Crow: [Tom] Sorry, my interociter's in the shop for repairs. Tom: [Crow] We could throw rocks at it. > Tom bent over his panel for an instant. "Hang on." Momentarily, a >Bajoran phaser rifle appeared. > Mike: Then, in a flash, it was gone again. > "Servo, I could kiss you!" > Tom: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's not go there! Crow: I don't know, Tom. A little man-on-bot action might be a daring change of pace in the fanfic world. Mike: Okay, Crow, now you're creeping me out too. > "Leave the drawer open, and it's mine. First rule of the underwear >collector." > [Silence] Mike: Tom, the more I learn about that sordid little hobby of yours... Tom: [indignant] It's not me! It's Hines! He's created a warped little shadow of me, *and* he's sullied the noble art of underwear collection! > Dave refused to contemplate that for a moment Crow: Huh. Dave *is* smarter than he looks. Tom: Hey! Crow: [Tom] Ooooh, once again, my pointless undie collection saves the day! Tom: [Crow] Woe is me, I cannot meet the blistering standards my idol, the inimitable Tom Servo, has set! Crow: [Tom] How will I ever... Mike: Enough is enough, guys! Sheesh! > as he opened the hatch >and opened fire on the Jem'Hadar that was advancing slowly on Lieutenant >Stens. > Mike: [Dave] Hey, hands off the chick, man! She's private stock! > The wretched creature had long since lost any tactical knowledge >beyond simple instinct, and couldn't deal with this two-front attack. It's >head Tom: It is head? Crow: Eet ees balloon-head! > turned one way and the other and Dave and Kara kept firing. Mike: [Jem'Hadar] Duuuh... Babe - dork. Babe - dork. Duuuuuhhhh... >Eventually, the poor creature was put out of its misery. > Tom: Yeah, but *we're* still here! > "That was disturbing." said Dave, shocked into understatement by the >fact that he had just killed a sentient, or at least formerly-sentient >being. > Mike: Escape, flight, destruction of property, assault of a security officer, and now he's killed someone. And he's the *good* guy! > "Welcome to the universe, Mr. Hines. Crow: You must be at least THIS TALL to enter the universe. > But thanks for saving my life" >replyed the Bajoran officer. > >Chapter Fourteen: > > Sloan gasped in pain. Tom: [Dr. Smith] Ooh, the pain - the pain! > His shuttlecraft, the U.S.S. Ashby, Mike: Oh, David, David, David. Crow: Dragging her into this too? Tom: Lynxie? We deeply apologize for Davey's actions. > laid in >pieces around him, and he wasn't too much longer for this world. Crow: [Redd Foxx] I'm comin', Elizabeth! > Oh well, >this body had served its purpose. > Mike: Time to trade it in for the newer, sportier "Charlize Theron" model. > As he finished his gasp, the sound of a standard Federation >transporter rang through the silence of the wrecked shuttlecraft and the >jungle beyond. > Crow: Crashed shuttle? Tom: Jungle? Mike: Dave's apparently a believer in the "Suddenly a Truck Ran Over Them" school of writing. > "Just when I think we've seen the last of you, you keep turning up >again, Sloan." > Crow: [Sloan] Mere death isn't enough to stop me! I'm back to save the Federation again by doing random bad things! > "Always (cough) a pleasure to see you as well, Dr. Bashir." > Tom: [Bashir] That cough sounds bad. Would you like me to take a look at you? > Bashir began his medical ministrations upon Sloan. The Hippocratic >Oath was the Hippocratic Oath despite how distasteful it could be at times. Mike: Hippocratic Oath - in Liver, Vinegar, Carp, and new Boiled Okra flavor! >"It wasn't too hard to figure out. These type of circumstances always seem >to point to your presence. The false skin color threw me, Tom: [Bashir] Blue was a bad choice. Makes you look like that bald chick from "Farscape"! > but the backwards >name was the clincher." > Crow: [Bashir] I knew you were lame, Sloan, but really... Mike: [Sloan] It fooled Sisko and the others, didn't it? Crow: [Bashir] That's not - okay, it did, but it's *still* lame! > "Sometimes, you can hide something by making it far too obvious. Tom: But if you're not careful, you'll just go back to the 5th Dimension. >Had to see if you're still on your toes, Doctor. The invitation to join >Section 31 stands, you know." > > "Not interested. Mike: [Sloan] Then how about my new, non-evil covert group, Noitces 13? Crow: [Bashir] Hey, cool! Sign me up! > I joined Starfleet to help people, not to topple, >murder or kidnap them. Crow: [Bashir] That's just a hobby, okay? > Tell me though, why try to kidnap Hines? What was he >to you?" > Tom: [Sloan] He was in a Nielsen Family. His not viewing "Freakazoid!" got it canceled! Crow: [Bashir] I'll get a phaser. > "What was he? Mike: [Sloan] He escaped from Marrissa *alive* and with all his limbs *intact*. We have to know how he did it! > Q managed to transport him more than four hundred >years into the future! An actual future, not just a fantasy world, mind >you. Tom: [Sloan] And certainly not a contrived fanfiction aberration. > His case was the most direct application of Q's power we've seen!" > Mike: I don't know. I thought when Q had tea and no tea at the same time was pretty impressive. Crow: I saw Q make Tom Green tolerable for an entire 15 minutes once. > "So?" > Tom: Ahh... the razor sharp insights of Dr. Bashir. > "So, some of the Federation's top scientists have beliefs that Q's >powers may be explainable by some of our advanced theories of hyperspatial >dynamics! Crow: Others believe Q just has some big powerful juju. > The chance to study him may result in our being able to >accomplish the same things as those in the Q-Continuum." > Mike: Irritating smugness and cloying condescension? > An unpleasant thought passed through Bashir's mind. Tom: [Bashir] They might try to put me on Voyager! > "You would have >just asked the man unless you needed to dissect him." > Crow: [Sloan] Hey, do you know just how prohibitively time consuming the paperwork for compulsory involuntary vivisection is?!? Mike: Pshaw. McCoy would have just passed a salt shaker over him and he'd have all the answers. Tom: They can do an autopsy with a tricorder, but they have to dissect someone to find out how they wrote a fanfic. > "One man, doctor. Isn't that loss worth it for a chance to be able >to simply wish away the next Borg or Dominion attack?" > Tom: Oh, he's trying to become Rick Berman! > "The second I make that choice is the second I betray everything >that the Federation stands for." > Crow: [Sloan] So, that'd be when, 10:15? > "Doctor, you never change." Crow: [Sloan] Admit it! The Disco look is over! Mike: [Bashir] Never! Retro is fashionable again! > With that, the body of Luther Sloan >turned to dust and started blowing away on the jungle wind. > Mike: Elsewhen, Kansas got a nice big royalty check. Tom: *sniff* We'll miss you, Trumpy. >Chapter Fifteen: > > Without warning, Deep Space Nine went completely dark. Tom: Somewhere, Ensign Ramirez had just plugged in his hair driver, overloading the entire system. Crow: That or Quark tried running his "Naughty Vulcan Milkmaid" program on all the holosuites at the same time. Again. > As artificial >gravity cut out, the hapless occupants may have seen the U.S.S. Neylon >undock and start flying away. > Tom: It had a new web address and everything! But it still hadn't been updated since March... Mike: He'll update it soon, Tom. Get over it. > Onboard, the hale and hearty figure of Luther Sloan ordered "Engage >the Cloaking Device." Mike: Immediately, the cloaking device's friends threw it a bridal shower. > The Neylon silently disappeared into the dark night. > Tom: Just like... Crow: Finish that line and I torch your underwear collection. Mike: Thank you, Crow. Crow: Hey, I owe him. He's got "Earth vs. Soup" archived there. >Chapter Sixteen: > Mike: Another five line chapter? Crow: Dave, once is artistic - twice is just plain lazy. > A few hours later, the affects of the worm program that had enabled >Sloane to escape had been completely flushed from the computer system. Tom: Deep Space Nine residents were once again able to play Free Cell. > Nog >was still a little insecure about his talents compared to those of the >absent Miles O'Brien, but especially when teamed with his father, was >able to make short work out of most computer crises. > Mike: Especially since those nice folks from User Friendly stopped by. Even if they did insist on trying to install UNIX on everything. > Dave was taking the opportunity, with his robot friends, to quickly >tour Deep Space Nine as a free man. Mike: [Dave] I am not a number! I am a free man! Tom: You are number six. Crow: Who is number one? > He wistfully remembered his taking >leave of Kara. Crow: She was heading back to Argo City - Faye Dunaway was up to her old tricks again. > "I declare you djen'kalra." she had said. Tom: Which was Bajoran for "minimum distance of fifty yards". > Roughly >translated, it was a combination of ally, friend and to a very limited >extent, betrothed. Crow: Wow! For a shy, socially backward geek, he sure works fast! Tom: Better take notes, Nelson. > He certainly intended to visit Bajor on a regular basis. > Tom: Dave's getting delusional now. > With Section 31's influence on the situation ended, progress on his >case was happening at a remarkable rate. Crow: It had gone from "glacial" to a blistering "molasses flowing uphill"! > A special session of the >Federation Congress had confirmed his Federation citizenship, by inferring >his American citizenship into United Nations citizenship and thus into >Federation citizenship. Mike: Immediately, the Federation Revenue Service hit him up for four centuries' back taxes. > He was originally a little awe-struck thinking that >the session was exclusively for his case, but soon realized that the >Congress Tom: Had nothing better to do anyway. > was worried about the precedents involved and wanted to set them >right for posterity. Tom: Plus, it was as good an excuse as any to vote themselves a pay raise. > Who knew what other visitors would be coming out of >the past? > Crow: Sammy Sosa, Dylan Thomas, Carson Daly... Tom: Crispin Glover, Pitt the Even Younger, funnyman Carrot Top... Mike: Charlemagne, Wendell Wilkie, Renee O'Connor of TV's "Xena"... > As he approached the airlock leading to his runabout, he encountered >Admiral Sisko there. Tom: Then Sisko rips off his mask, and Shazam! It's Sloan again. > "Mr. Hines, I wanted to apologize for your >inconvenience." > Mike: Inconvenience? Crow: To Sisko, supernovas are a mild set-back. > "Not at all, Admiral. Thanks for the help. I will be seeing you >again." > > "I look forward to that." With that, Admiral Sisko walked away. > Mike: [Sisko] I hope he bought that. The less I see of him, the happier life's gonna be! > Dave opened the airlock and entered his shuttlecraft. > Crow: Oh, is *that* what the kids are calling it these days? >Chapter Seventeen: > > "Guys, begin pre-launch sequence." > > Dave walked over to his console, alerted by the flashing "Message >Waiting" notation. Tom: It was a 3-D holographic message that began, "LEARN THE SECRET OF MULTI-LEVEL MARKETING!" > As he pressed the equivalent of play on the 24th >century's version of the answering machine, Martin Sussex's face appeared. > > "Hi, Dave. All: Dave's not here, man! > You wouldn't believe the time we've had on the Endeavour >since you left. I can't let you in on too many of the details, classified >information you know. Tom: [Martin] Let's just say we kicked a little Ardie-cay Utt-bay! > Suffice it to say, Jay finally proposed to Marrissa. [All snort] Crow: *That's* classified?!? Tom: Well, it *is* the impending mating of the Lord High Protectrix of the Universe, y'know, so everyone drop what you're doing and take notice! Mike: That's breaking a few regs, isn't it? Crow: Just morals, but what's that ever had to do with Marrissa? >Jay even commented to me later that defending her honor from you is what >got the ball rolling on that whole thing. [Stunned, appalled silence] Tom: Does - does that mean that - that Dave and - and... Crow: And that he - and he tried - tried to... Mike: With - with *Marrissa*? All: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! > In any event, both say that all's >forgiven, and they'd like you to come..." > Crow: But if she's marrying Jay, then... [notices Mike & Tom eyeing him] I should just shut up now, right? Tom & Mike: Right. > As the recording continued to talk, Dave frowned. "Sorry, I don't do >weddings." > Mike: At least not "Royal Weddings". Crow: Unless I'm on a "Field Trip". Tom: Or somewhere else "Away from Home". [pause] Crow: Um, do you guys realize we just, um... Tom: Let's not think about it, okay? > "...it's going to be the media event of the Federation, so I hear. Tom: It'll be even bigger than Brad & Jennifer's wedding. Mike: Woah, Servo, let's not exaggerate. >We've got a seat reserved for you inside of the chapel. All: o/` Marrissa's - gooooin' to the chapel and she's - gooonna get maaaarried... o/` > At the reception, >they're even going to be spending some time with the old earth custom of >karaoke..." > Crow: Ah, I see the theme for Marrissa's wedding will be as expected - "Pure, Unbridled Evil". Mike: Just when you thought humanity had evolved... > At that last word, Dave's face lit up. Mike: [Hines] Hey! I'm tone deaf! That'd be perfect for me! > "I'm there. Gypsy, set course >for Essex." > Tom: In its own way, that's even *more* disturbing than him having made a play for Marrissa. > "In any event, all the details are attached at the end of this file. Crow: [Dave] Damn, my Hotmail account won't let me get attachments that large. >I'll suspect we'll have some stories to swap, starting with the one about >how Marrissa had to be brought back from prehistoric Earth by Q!" > Crow: [Martin] There's this really great one about a priest, a rabbi and a velociraptor who walk into a bar... > In the background, Crow had gained departure clearance and the >runabout was on its way, carefully restoring the satellite illusion before >it had left the station. > Mike: Say, I wonder how he eats and breathes, and other science facts. Tom: Well, geez, Mike, I mean, he's got a replicator and an air recycler. Crow: Yeah, and a really complex on-board computer, too. Mike: Oh. Oh, yeah. Crow: Sheesh! Sometimes I worry about you, Nelson! >Chapter Eighteen: > > "In any event, all the details are attached at the end of this file. Mike: Wow! We're flashing back to - um, last chapter? Tom: Nostalgia's just not what it used to be. >I'll suspect we'll have some stories to swap, starting with the one about >how Marrissa had to be brought back from prehistoric Earth by Q!" > Mike: [Dave] Sorry, I don't do lame Marrissa stories. Oh wait, yes I do. > "Interesting. Very interesting..." Crow: [Arte Johnson] But shtupid! > said Luther Sloan to himself. >Placing bugs was a standard Section 31 tactic. Crow: Oh, I get it! Then they call up to get rid of the bugs, and Sloan disguises himself as the exterminator and they let him in the house! Tom: Hijinx, naturally, ensue. > His sources would offer more >information before he reached Essex, but it sounded like there would be at >least a million years, possibly even two or three million years of Q- >powered time travel apparent in Captain Marrissa Picard's cells, Mike: So being time-traveled leaves you charged up with Q-Continuum power? > as opposed >to the paltry four hundred or so he would have gotten from the troublesome >Mr.Hines. > Tom: YES! C'mon, Sloan, get out yer tools and let's go to work! Crow: Well, hell. Jean-Luc went back to the frelling start of the universe! Why not get *him*? Mike: Don't give him any ideas! > He ordered his helm officer to lay in a course for Essex, and >excused himself to his Ready Room. This was a plot that required some >finesse. Mike: So he broke out his evil shampoo and conditioner! > He had been a bit crude in his attempt to procure Mr. Hines and >that had led to failure, and the loss of one of his clones. Crow: He was beside himself with grief. > Picard was a >very high-profile officer and member of royalty. This plot would require >some finesse. > Tom: Or at the very least, some Pert Plus. > It was a pity that one of the finest officers in the fleet would be >lost, but Sloan alone knew what the Federation needed to survive. Tom: Finesse? Mike: No, according to him, it was a cheese grater, a mulberry-scented candle-in-a-jar, and one of those Singing Sunflowers. Crow: Luther's not a well man. > Sometimes >it wasn't as bright and cheerful as all the Julian Bashirs in the Federation >would hope for. > Tom: "*All* the Julian Bashirs"?!? Mike: I guess Sloan's not the only one out there with a clone squad. > He would let her have her wedding. He wasn't a cruel man. Mike: Just a very silly one. Tom: Actually, Jay might disagree with that point. > But soon, >oh yes, so very soon, she would be his. > Mike: Geez, now he sounds like Dr. F! >The End? All: YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT, PAL! Crow: Let's scrambola before we see any more of Tom's undie fetish! Tom: Oh, like *your* hobbies are any great shakes! Crow: At least mine aren't banned in 49 states! [Tom & Crow continue to bicker as they leave] O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6] [SOL Bridge - Mike is standing between Crow & Tom, who have their backs to each other] Crow: Cretin! Tom: Jerkwad! Mike: Look, you guys, enough is enough, and this is too much! Tom: Don't tell *me*, Nelson - tell the Golden Boy over there! Crow: Mike, please inform *Mister* Servo, provided he can tear himself away from himself long enough to listen, that the fault lies not with me, but with his own bubbleheaded bubble head! Tom: And in return, Nelson, please invite Mr. Crow to kindly *jump up my hoverskirt*! Mike: Aw, c'mon fellas! You're letting this thing get to you! Tom: Mike, I can take a joke as well as the next robot, but what Crow said just went too far! Crow: Oh, look who's talking about going too far! The king of the world! Mike: Well, just what *did* the two of you say to each other? Crow: He said, uh, he said - um.... Tom: And Crow said that - aaaaah, that is it was, uh... Mike: Now see? You can't even remember what it was that set you off, can you? Tom: Well, no. [pause] But it's the principal of the thing, blast it! Crow: Absolutely! We agree 100% - it doesn't matter what it is that we're mad about. Tom: Yeah, all that matters is that each of us has sworn undying enmity towards the other! Mike: *sigh* Look, you two have been friends for a long time, right. Tom: Yeah. Or so I *thought*! Crow: Oh, how sharper than a serpent's tooth... Mike: [interrupting] The two of you are semi-mature, reasonable facsimiles of adults. Are you going to admit that a little thing like a - like a *story* can come between you? Crow: [uncertainly] Well... Mike: A *Star Trek* story? A *Marrissa* Star Trek story? Tom: Ummm, I guess that... Mike: [twisting the knife] A *Self-Insertion* *Non-Ratliffian* *Marrissa* *Star Trek* story? [Pause. The two turn to face each other.] Crow: Awww, he's right, Servo! Are we gonna let something like that do us in, pal'o'mine? Tom: Heck no, buddy-boy! All for one, and one for all, I say! Crow: Yeah! Bots: YEAH! Mike: Now that's more like it. So, which of you two wants to give out the usual info? Crow: I say let my bestest pal ever, Tom Servo, do it! Tom: Oh, I couldn't possibly. The honor should go to the one and only Crow T. Robot! Crow: Nonsense, my friend, I defer to your expertise! Tom: Please, Tom, you can do it *so* much better than I! Crow: What's that supposed to mean? Tom: Nothing, just that.. Crow: I recognize that "sarcasm" thing of yours, Servo! You're mocking me! Tom: No I'm not! Not that that isn't a fertile field, of course, but... Crow: Oh, like *you're* so perfect, Underwear-Head! [The two continue arguing under as Mike shakes his head] Mike: Well, this is apparently pointless. Why don't you take care of it, Magic Voice? Crow & Tom: Huh? Magic Voice: Will do, Mike. To join the MiSTing Authors Dibs List, send an e-mail to "majordomo@pinky.wtower.com" with the message "subscribe dibslist" in the message body. Be sure to read the FAQ at "http://www.masemware.com/mst3k/faq.shtml", don't work blue, and treat your robotic chums right. I'm gonna take five, okay Mike? Mike: Sure thing, Magic Voice and thanks. Now, let's - Crow: Boy, Mike, you don't mess around when you play favorites, do you? Mike: Huh? Tom: We work and we work and we work around here, and then you stab us in the back in favor of Magic Voice! Mike: Now wait a second... Tom: I mean - boy! You have zero concept of loyalty, you know that?!? Crow: Friendship and devotion? Oooh, never mind those when Mike "Benedict" Nelson rides into town! Tom: C'mon, Crow, let's get out of here before he decides to sell us for scrap or something! Crow: Yeah! Boy, y'think you know a guy... [They wander off, leaving a very non-plussed Mike in their wake. The message light begins to flash] Mike: *sigh* Apparently, my role in life is to be the UN to their Yugoslavia. [hits button] So - what's happening with you, Pearly Whites? [CF - The three are still gathered around the screen, frowning at a clipboard] Pearl: Interesting, interesting. Apparently, the expected effect of turning the robots against each other was countered by Mike's presence. Observer: So perhaps the key to subverting their wills is separating them? Pearl: Yeah, but that's no good - according the Mad Scientists' Guild guidelines, they've gotta all go down together or it doesn't count! Observer: That does present a bit of a problem. Bobo, your opinion? Bobo: [studies the clipboard closely for a moment] Hmmm - I think I've spotted a pattern. Pearl: Really? Where?! Bobo: [pointing] Right there. That mustard stain looks almost exactly like John Stamos! Pearl: [rolling her eyes] Gosh, thanks, *so much* for that stunning insight, Chim-Chim! [to screen] Well, Nelgram, it looks you get to live and fight another day. But someday, somehow, I'll find the key to breaking your will. And when I do, Mike - when I do, you'll bow down before me and - [Suddenly, a great noise and commotion occurs off-camera] Observer: Heavens to Murgatroyd! Pearl: What the blazes was *that*?!? Bobo: Oook! Ack! Look out, Lawgiver! It's - it's *her*! Pearl: Who? *Who?!?* [In marches a very agitated young girl, dressed in a Starfleet Captain's uniform and brandishing a phaser rifle. If you don't know who this is by now, you haven't been paying attention.] Marrissa: All right, where is he?!? Send out that no-good louse!!! Pearl: Now look here, sister, you can't just - Marrissa: *Quiet!!!* I can do whatever the heck I feel like because I'm a Starfleet captain and a princess and whatever the heck else I feel like being! Now - where's that rat?! Observer: Perhaps it would help if you were to tell us exactly *which* rat it is you're looking for? Marrissa: Hines! I'm looking for Dave Hines! He's playing in *my* universe without my express written permission! Bobo: Um, *your* universe?!? Marrissa: That's right, *my* universe! I don't care what Ratliff and Berman say - it's my universe! Mine *mine* MINE!! Observer: Um, of course it is. Pearl: Riiiiight. Marrissa: Now - where's Hines? I followed his trail to this joint! Pearl: Well, sorry to disappoint you, dearie, but all we have is the story - we haven't seen hide nor hair of Mr. Hines himself. Marrissa: Blast! [gestures to screen with phaser] What about him? Pearl: *snort* Nelson?!? Yeah, right! He's stuck up in space - and what are the chances he'd run across your personal bete noir up there? Marrissa: [pauses for a moment] Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I'm off, then. Hines is out there somewhere, and wherever he is, I'll find him. [softly and sinisterly, while cradling the phaser rifle lovingly] Oh yes, I'll find you, all right! And when I do, mamma gonna hafta spanky! Spankytime, Daveykins! [she wanders off, muttering and giggling] [The three stare after her a moment] Observer: I believe it's safe to say, Pearl, we've found someone even more psychotically evil than yourself. Pearl: [upset] Do you say these things just to *try* and hurt me? Observer: Oh. Uh, sorry. Bobo: Um, Lawgiver, if it helps, *I* think you're the evilest evil person I've ever met. Pearl: No, buttering me up now won't work. Just - just go! [Fade out - and as we fade, we hear] Pearl: You really mean it? Bobo: Sure! Observer: [hissing] Kiss-up! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "OUT OF TIME" BY: Dave Hines MiSTING BY: Bill Livingston (billfl@hiwaay.net), editor; Matt Blackwell (mblackwl@ix.netcom.com); Doug Gale (doug@OverDriveMedia.com); TV's Francis (francis@net-thing.net) MiSTING DIBS LIST MAINTAINED BY: Michael Neylon PENTIUM III BY: Intel I'LL KEEP YOU BY: My Side with My Superhuman Might VERB: That's What's Happening SPECIAL GUEST STARS: Beez McKeever as Captain Princess Marrissa Amber Flores Picard THANKS: to MiSTies, MuSTies, RATMMers, the teachers of America, the cast of "The West Wing" and the inventors of the automatic ice maker. SPECIAL THANKS TO: Dave Hines, for letting me riff on his story; and Stephen Ratliff, for letting Dave work his territory. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" and all associated characters and situations are trademark of and (c) Paramount. All rights reserved. Come visit Scenic Bajor - home of the 2388 Summer Olympics! Marrissa Picard, Martin Sussex and the rest of the Kids' Crew aren't exactly copyright Stephen Ratliff, but they're an integral part of his fanfiction work, and is so noted. Remember, vote for Marrissa for Omnipotent Universal Dictator where you work or bank! Dave Hines is copyright Dave Hines. Remember, he's *not* the Dave Hines from "Enterprized". "Mystery Science Theater 3000" trademark of and (c) Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. Anyone home? Jim? Barb? Beez? Hello? Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by others is intended or should be inferred. No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are or should be implied. All characters in this work are fictional, and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The rest - is silence. No file found for Aram Fingal. Keep circulating the posts. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- > Ezri turned her back on the >group and walked away, trying not to laugh out loud. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ billfl@hiwaay.net http://home.hiwaay.net/~billfl "If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. And if you're smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you." Isaac Jaffee (Robert Guillome), "Sports Night"