Royal And Prime Directives
[Opening Theme]
[SATELLITE OF LOVE - Mike is on the bridge, reading a copy of "Us"
Magazine with Jennifer Lopez on the cover (which is to say pretty much
any copy of "Us" Magazine). He is surrounded by Crow, Tom and Gypsy]
CROW: Please?
MIKE: No.
TOM: Please?
MIKE: No.
GYPSY: Pretty please?
MIKE: No. [looks up] Oh, hi all. Mike Nelson up here on the Satellite
of Love...
CROW: Yeah, Mike "Spoilsport" Nelson!
TOM: Mike "Stodgy Old Fart" Nelson!
GYPSY: Mike "Michael" Nelson!
MIKE: Look, I - huh? Well, never mind. Anyway, we all stayed up to watch
a movie marathon last night, and now the bots are being obsessive.
CROW: We're not obsessive, Mike, we just want to celebrate a little!
MIKE: I just don't think it'd be appropriate.
TOM: Oh, *now* he's worried about propriety!
CROW: C'mon, Nelson, it'll be a blast!
GYPSY: Yeah, let our funny flag fly high!
MIKE: I'd just feel - I dunno, kinda odd about it, is all!
CROW: Oh come on, where's that zany, fun-loving Mike Nelson who used to
hang out here, huh?
MIKE: [Wavering] Well-l-l-l...
GYPSY: Do it for Otis Driftwood!
MIKE: Otis Driftwood?
TOM: Do it for Dr. Hugo Z. Hackenbush!
MIKE: For Dr. Hackenbush.
CROW: Do it, Mike! Do it - for Captain Geoffrey T. Spaulding!
MIKE: [stands to attention] For CAPTAIN SPAULDING! Yes! Okay, I'll,
I'll do it, then!
CROW: That's the spirit, Mike!
GYPSY: Yeah!
TOM: Let's go!
[All sprint off. Then Mike returns.]
MIKE: Hello, we must be going. But we'll be right back. [taps light]
COMMERCIALS
1) Steven Spielberg presents "Taken" - over and over and over...
2) Bowflex - because who *doesn't* want to spend an obscene amount of money
on useless exercise equipment?
3) Use 1-800-CALL-ATT or we keep Carrot Top on the air! And don't think we
won't, cuz we will if you make us!
[SOL - The crew is now in high spirits (mostly). Mike's dressed in a long
swallowtail coat, with a pair of bushy eyebrows, glasses, a greasepaint
mustache and brandishing a huge cigar. Tom is all decked out in a tweed
jacket and a small, oddly-shaped hat. Gypsy sports a bright yellow-
orangish fright wig and battered top hat, with what looks like a bicycle
horn in her mouth. Crow is - well, Crow. And he's not happy about it.
For the balance of this host seg, Mike speaks with a Groucho Marx-like
voice, and Servo uses an exaggerated Italian accent, a la Chico Marx]
MIKE: So how much do you charge for not playing *and* not rehearsing?
TOM: Ah, you couldn't afford it.
GYPSY: *honk*
CROW: [shaking head] I still think I was robbed.
MIKE: Nonsense, my good man. We drew straws, fair and square. It's not
my fault you can't draw - even if you *are* fairly square.
CROW: It's still not - I mean, it was *my* idea in the first place!
MIKE: Look, it's all right here in the contract.
TOM: Hey, whatsa that clause right there?
MIKE: This part is the part that says you gotta be in your right mind to
do this. It's called the sanity clause.
TOM: The what?
MIKE: Oh, I shoulda stayed away from that one, I can see right now.
[Lights flash]
CROW: Uh-oh, brace yourselves, guys! It's Flywheel, Shyster & Flywheel.
MIKE: And two hard-boiled eggs.
GYPSY: *honk*
MIKE: Make that three hard-boiled eggs.
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Hello, Mike, I - [pause] What in the...
[SOL]
MIKE: Ah, Mrs. Rittenhouse! Say the secret woid and a duck'll fly down
and give you $50.
TOM: Yeah, but vhy a duck?
[CF]
PEARL: Huh? Listen, what're you clowns up to...
[SOL]
CROW: Oh, hi Pearl. It's kinda...
TOM: Sorry, lady, you can't come in unless you givea da password.
MIKE: Say, what *is* the password?
TOM: Aw, no! You gotta tell me. Hey, I tell you what I do. I give you
three guesses. It's the name of a fish.
MIKE: Is it Poil?
TOM: Ha-ha. That's-a no fish.
MIKE: She isn't? Well, she drinks like one
GYPSY: *honk*
[CF]
PEARL: Okay, what's the gag here? Art! Tell me what's going on!
[SOL]
CROW: Well, y'see...
MIKE: Art? Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is
water! And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries
and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than
rhubarb does.
CROW: Um, can you give us a second here, Rufus?
MIKE: Hpmh - I've got a good mind to join a club and beat you over the head
with it.
CROW: Right. Basically, what's happened is we had a little Marx Brothers
Film Festival last night, so we decided to indulge ourselves a bit.
We all drew straws, so Mike is Groucho, Tom's Chico and Gypsy's
Harpo. And I - uh - I'm Zeppo.
[CF - Pearl has been joined by Observer and Bobo]
OBSERVER: Well, at least you're not Gummo. *snicker*
BOBO: Oh, I like gummo. Especially Juicy Fruit. It's just so...
PEARL: Pipe down, youse two! So, unauthorized film activity, eh?!? That
is *completely* unacceptable! Nelson, I demand that you...
[SOL]
MIKE: Ah, Poil! Can't you see what I'm trying to say, I love you! Meet me
tonight under the moon! Just think, when the moon is sneaking around
the clouds, I'll be sneaking around you! I can see it now - you and
the moon! You wear a necktie so I'll know it's you!
[Crow suddenly runs past, chased by Gypsy honking frantically]
CROW: AAAAH!! GYSPY, CUT IT OUT!
GYPSY: *honk**honk**honk**honk**honk*
[Both zoom offstage]
MIKE: That's the first time I ever saw a taxi chase a passenger.
[CF]
PEARL: Look, you cretins, I - Ooh! [stomps foot]
BOBO: Hey, I saw this on Turner Classics last night! It was funny!
PEARL: Shut up, monkey business! This is *not* funny!
OBSERVER: Let me try to reason with them, Madam. *ahem* Greetings,
gentlemen, I....
[SOL]
TOM: Hey, don't I know-a you?
[CF]
OBSERVER: Well, of course, I'm the Observer.
[SOL]
TOM: Nah, that ain't it. Hey, I got it! You're Brainy the fish guy!
You remember him, right?
GYPSY: *honk*
[CF]
OBSERVER: I most certainly am not! I am the nigh-omnipotent, nigh-
omniscient Observer, before whom you are all as amoebas!
BOBO: Amoebae.
OBSERVER: Whatever!
[SOL]
TOM: Nah nah, I remember you now - Brainy da fish guy. You used to
sell fish down at-a da pier.
GYPSY: *honk*
[CF]
OBSERVER: I did no such thing! I am - okay, one time, but...
[SOL]
TOM: Ay, I knew it, huh? You're Brainy da Fish Guy!
GYPSY: *honk*
[Tom prances about chanting "Brainy the Fish Guy" as Gypsy honks]
[CF]
OBSERVER: Now see here! I - you - oh dear.
PEARL: Okay, that's it, Nelstaff! I try and I try to make your existence
as dreary and unbearable as possible, and *this* is the thanks I get!
It's my own fault, I suppose - I simply haven't tried everything to
suck as much of the fun out of your lives as I can. Booboo - hand
me to it.
BOBO: Yes, Lawgiver. [hands Pearl a zip disk initialed "R&PD"]
PEARL: I was hoping to save this for a special occasion, but I think
you need to see it now. Do you know what this is?
[SOL]
CROW: Hmmm - "Rich & Poor Derivatives"?
MIKE: "Ritzy & Pretty Dames"?
TOM: Nah, datsa no good. It stands for "Left Handed Moths".
[Pause]
MIKE: Y'know, you've got the brain of a 4-year old boy, and I bet he
was glad to get rid of it.
[CF]
PEARL: [exasperated] No, you stale animal crackers! It's the latest
Marrissa story from none other than Stephen Ratliff!
[ SOL ]
MIKE: You expect that to frighten me? A man who's licked his weight in
wild caterpillars?
[ CF ]
PEARL: Look, can it, capisce?!? This story's called "Royal and Prime
Directives", and it has about as much to do with Star Trek as coat
hangers and JuJuBees!
BOBO: Oh, but there's lots of royalty in it, though.
PEARL: [smiles evilly] That's right - lots and lots and *lots* of
Royalty! So eat it, ya lousy Marxists!
[SOL]
MIKE: Ratliff, eh? This is an outrage! Jameson, take a letter to my
lawyers - Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga & McCormick!
CROW: [writing] Right. Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga & McCormick.
MIKE: You let out a Hungadunga. The most important one, too.
[Lights flash]
TOM: Hey, never mind that now, boss! We gotsa da MOVIE SIGN!!!
[Gypsy continues honking furiously as chaos, doors, etc. ensues]
[6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O
[All enter - and are back to their normal voices]
TOM: Welp, Too bad our little psycho-drama didn't protect us from
Pearlikins.
MIKE: [removing Tom's little hat] Yeah, but at least we had our fun.
CROW: Easy for you to say, Nelson - next time, *you* get to be Zeppo!
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-02!supernews.com!
CROW: Faster than a speeding flamewar!
MIKE: More powerful than a FAQmaster!
TOM: Able to leap huge binaries in a single bound!
> newsfeed.direct.ca!look.ca!
>newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newsmaster1.prod.
>itd.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
TOM: Crosswinds, huh? That's nice, I guess, but... *sniff*
MIKE: Tom?
TOM: Sorry. *sniff* I just kinda miss the old Radford domain.
MIKE: You sentimentalist, you.
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives
MIKE: Crown Royale and Prime Rib? Now *there's* a directive I can go for!
> (Marrissa Stories) 0/16
>Message-ID: <r3do0uk3s5ipbnqqk3glt6n2mobt180gjm@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
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CROW: Heeey, it's gonna be a *short* Marrissa story!
TOM: Yeah, *that'll* be the day!
>Date: Tue, 04 Dec 2001 02:47:28 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.80.217.245
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1007434048 216.80.217.245
>(Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:28 PST)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:28 PST
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
TOM: And just in case you missed it - EarthLink.
>X-Received-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:22 PST (newsmaster1.prod.
>itd.earthlink.net)
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:155263
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
TOM: In England they call it a Royale Prime with...
MIKE: I think we've done that joke to death by now.
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 1/16 Serialized Weekly
CROW: And satirized weakly.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: [Marrissa] Hey, what's the deal, bub? *I'm* the only royal in
*this* Starfleet!
>Author's Notes:
>
CROW: [Stephen] Stop at dry cleaners. Call Susie for lunch. Set out
fresh Alpo for Scooter.
>It's been a while since I've had something new to post here.
TOM: All good things...
> My muse has
>been a little more rare since I got a job.
>
MIKE: [Stephen] The well-done ones gave me big time heartburn!
>The story you are about to read was orginally started in 1995.
TOM: "Orginally". 15 lines. Who wins the pool?
MIKE: [checking something] Hold on... Magic Voice.
MAGIC VOICE: Boo-yah!
> It's gone
>through many changes, since that time,
CROW: Originally, it was about a 75-year old Wal-Mart greeter named Zeke
and his wise-cracking pet llama, Chester.
> and finally it's ready for you to
>read it.
MIKE: [Stephen] I finally figured out a way to deliver electric shocks
over the Internet!
> At present, the end of the story is not quite ready, but that's
>not a problem.
>
TOM: [Stephen] I plan to have a truck run over everyone at the end.
>You see, I'm a frim believer in serialization.
CROW: New Frim cereal - now with extra fiber for extra-ASC action!
> Royal and Prime Directives
>will be coming to you, one part, one chapter, a week, just like the other
>of my stories have come to you.
MIKE: Thus making our every waking moment a living nightmare on a
*regular* basis.
> Every month there will be a repost of
>previous chapters, as well.
TOM: Now there's something to look forward to in your mailbox.
> I may speed up or slow down the posting, based
>on demand, and my muse.
[Crow does speeded-up tape player noises]
> My muse may also render that part number wrong,
TOM: His parts supplier is relabeling everything in the catalog.
>but I don't think so, at the moment.
>
CROW: So Ratliff's muse is responsible for all the errors in his stories?
MIKE: I don't think that's possible for just one muse.
>For those of you who haven't read my works,
CROW: Count your blessings.
> that shouldn't be a problem for
>the most part with this story, but if you are curious about just how
>Marrissa got to where she is in the beginning of this story, you can check
>out:
>
>http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff
>
TOM: The shrine of evil.
CROW: Alternatively, you could poke your eyes out with a
knitting needle.
>I, as always eagerly await feedback, of all types.
>
MIKE: [Ratliff] Even from those three guys up in the space station.
>Stephen
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family
>
MIKE: SNORRRRRRRRE!!
TOM: Pheeeeeeeeew!!
CROW: Eebeebeebeebeebeeb!!
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-03!supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!newsfeed.direct.ca!
>look.ca!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>newsmaster1.prod.itd.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.
>POSTED!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives(Marrissa Stories) 1/16
>Message-ID: <sqco0uk5dksp0vmgfrmvcpniubgh1mthfo@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
TOM: Now *that's* an irregular fraction!
CROW: 0.05530293...
TOM: Oh, don't be a show-off!
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>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
>X-Received-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:17 PST
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>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:155262
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
MIKE: First Directive: Enforce the law.
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
TOM: The spamproofing! It's impenetrable!
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 1/16 Serialized Weekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet
CROW: Yep, it's a planet. The End.
> where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>Prologue
>
> It had become deathly still in Enterprise-E's bar.
MIKE: Someone had ordered an Old Milwaukee. Willingly.
TOM: Plus Data was doing stand up again.
> The bar had
>been full of activity. Everyone was still there,
TOM: o/` Closing time - you don't have to go home but you can't stay
here. o/`
> but they were all staring
>at Lieutenant Ferguson Calgary
MIKE: And his roommate, Ensign McGillicudy Saskatoon.
> and Lieutenant Marrissa Picard.
TOM: A.K.A. The Devil You Know".
> Lieutenant
>Calgary was La Forge's new second assistant. Picard was the Chief of
>Security.
CROW: And me? I'm just your friendly omniscient narrator. Have a good
evening, folks.
> As for why they were being stared at, that was Calgary's fault.
TOM: She'd told him tutus weren't considered proper Starfleet attire.
>He had just insulted Picard by questioning her right to hold her position,
MIKE: Memorial services will be Thursday at 4:00 PM in the ship's chapel.
>insinuating that she had got the position because her father was Captain.
CROW: Sleeping her way to the t- wait that doesn't apply here.
TOM: He's wrong of course. She got it due to deus ex braindeath on
Starfleet's part.
>But that was not why Marrissa was mad at him.
CROW: [Marrissa] I so can't believe you didn't get me *squat* for my
birthday!!
MIKE: [Calgary] But you said I shouldn't buy you anything!
CROW: [Marrissa] And you didn't! How *dare* you?!?
> " Don't call me that.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Call me Ishmael!
> My name is Marrissa Amber Picard. My title
>is Princess. My rank is Lieutenant. My job is Chief of Security,"
MIKE: [Marrissa] My favorite color is blue.
TOM: [Marrissa] My broker is E.F. Hutton.
CROW: [Marrissa] My turn-ons are Mozart, long walks on the beach and
conquering aliens.
>Marrissa began, standing up from her seat. "I'd appreciate it if you would
>call me by any name or title that I am entitled to use instead of Risa"
CROW: A Marrissa story by any other name would still bore me to death.
> "Oh the poor little baroness can't stand a nickname," Calgary
>sneered back.
MIKE: Wow! He *is* taking his life in his hands, isn't he?
TOM: Yeah, sure. By the end of this, he'll either be dead or Marrissa's
newest boot-licking sycophant.
> "If you're going for royal titles, it's Princess," Marrissa
>responded.
TOM: [Marrissa] As in, "Off with his head!" Get it, Montreal?
CROW: [Calgary] Calgary.
TOM: [Marrissa] Whatever.
> "Oh I'm not, Miss Ensign."
> "Lieutenant."
TOM: When they get to Commander, sell!
> "I stand corrected, Miss Insecurity."
CROW: Y'know, even granted that it's Marrissa, it's still probably not real
smart to go out of your way to antagonize the security chief.
MIKE: [Marrissa] What's that, Fergie? Trapped by J'Em Hadar Troops? Don't
worry, I'll send down a rescue squad - just as soon as I finish all
of last month's paperwork! BWHAHAHAHAH!!!!
> "I don't have to listen to this."
TOM: [grumbles] Yeah, but we do...
> "No, you don't," Calgary shot back. "You can go hide behind those
>titles of yours. Tell me Risa, is their anything under them?"
[All sigh]
MIKE: And there we go.
CROW: Or their we go.
TOM: Or even they're we go.
> Marrissa glared at Calgary.
MIKE: The sprawling Canadian city will soon be drenched in strawberry juice.
> She raised her hand as if she was
>going to slap him,
CROW: Suddenly a hockey game breaks out!
> but apparently decided against it.
MIKE: Instead reaching for her trusty phaser.
> Marrissa turned away
>and walked out of the bar.
TOM: Thus nullifying the joke.
> From over on the other side of the bar, Commander William T. Riker
>moved out of the shadows.
CROW: [Kosh] Riker has always been here.
> "Mr. Calgary, you've got some explaining to
>do..."
>
CROW: [Lucy] But Riker, waaaaaaaah!!
> Marrissa sat in her room lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
MIKE: [Marrissa] When did I get mirrors installed up there?
CROW: [Marrissa] And what's that "fap fap fap" sound I keep hearing?
>She had been unable to get Calgary's last words out of her mind.
TOM: [Calgary] Straw... berry... fields...
> Was there
>nothing to her without her titles?
MIKE: Well, there's her obsession with strawberries.
TOM: And let's not forget her fantastic piano playing.
CROW: Plus, there's her browbeating of Jay Gordon. That'll get you up
in the morning.
> Lately, it seemed like that was true. She did nothing but work.
CROW: It's called a "job", Marrissa - look into it!
TOM: [Mel Brooks] Work, work, work, work, work, work!
>She hadn't had any time off since she had boarded the Enterprise-E, some
>three months ago.
MIKE: Please - don't talk to *me* about bad work experiences.
> Her off duty hours were filled with classes and Kid's Crew
>business.
TOM: And destroying alien races, brokering peace treaties, quashing
mutinies! Oh! And decoupage!
> In fact that night had been the first time she had gotten to the
>Enterprise-E's bar.
MIKE: And now she was sloshed out of her skull.
> Marrissa couldn't remember doing something not associated with her
>jobs since she had become Chief of Security.
CROW: Hey, after all she drank tonight, she's lucky she remembered where
her quarters were!
> All the other senior officers
>had spare time to do other things, why didn't she?
>
TOM: [Marrissa] *Sigh* Man, building an evil empire is such a drag!
> Prince Avery,
CROW: *Tex* Avery.
MIKE: And his consort, Red Hot Princess Hood!
TOM: *A-wooooooooooo!*
> son of King Robert of Ellosia, was riding among the
>fields of Suppor.
MIKE: He had already passed the meadows of Lonch and the glades of
Breakfost.
> They were part of the Earldom which he held title to, as
>heir to the throne, not that the job meant much.
CROW: Oh! They're British royalty!
> His father always told
>him that there would be a time when he'd wish he still was just the heir.
MIKE: It's the Frank Sinatra Jr. Story.
>As Avery saw it, being Crown Prince had very little to recommend it.
CROW: Apart from the life of comfortable luxury, the foxy royal babes-
in-waiting and wanting for nothing, being Crown Prince sucks.
> He
>was expected to know everything his father knew, but could do nothing about
>it. He had no choice in his eventual bride.
MIKE: Although ABC did give him some roses to hand out.
> Though he preferred the oldest daughter of the Duchess of
>Castrome.
TOM: He wants Castro's eldest daughter? Man, is he messed up!
> Unfortunately, the thirteen-year-old Lady was not considered
>high on the list for the sixteen-year-old Prince.
CROW: But his cousin, Prince Jerry Lee, was all over her.
> The Duchess had little
>influence in court, while the other Dukes, who had been around since his
>Father took the throne, did.
MIKE: Especially that up-and-coming Sir Edmund Blackadder.
> The Dukes were putting forward various
>foreign Princesses.
CROW: [Waylon] Yep, them Duke boys was at it again - this time they'd
tricked Sheriff Coltrane into marrying old Lucretia Dalrymple.
> The Duke of Armedge had suggested Princess Clotilda
MIKE: Note to all future royalty: avoid giving your princesses names that
start with "clot".
>of Janvart, a hulk of a woman
TOM: HULK SMASH PUNY PRINCE!!!
> who some said slept in full armor.
MIKE: I hope she doesn't *swim* in full armor
> The Duke of
>Avtra was always spouting the merits of Princess Fay of Grimall.
TOM: As well as emphasizing her vast real estate holdings.
> Avery had
>met Princess Fay, during a peace negotiation a couple years back.
CROW: They were settling some ... hundred year ... war of the rose ...
bushes or something. Doesn't matter what.
> The
>fragile health of the tiny little girl would never survive the sea voyage
>across the straights of Astra,
TOM: This reads like "How The Grinch Stole Royalty"!
> much less the month long journey from her
>home, besides, she was too quiet for his tastes.
MIKE: He preferred them loud, brassy, and obnoxious.
CROW: [Avery] I'd let her risk a horrible death at sea, but she's too
quiet!
> The Duke of Fasstime
ALL: Aloha, Duke Hand!
>was set on Avery's marriage to Queen Kaitlin of Dinath.
TOM: So we know who's in the Kaitlin with Dinath.
MIKE: Wow. An exposition sequence combined with a introduction sequence.
I think Ratliff's hit a new personal high.
> The match with someone
>three times his age
CROW: Charles Nelson Reilly - but it's enough for a win.
> was not something he wanted to dwell on.
TOM: This is diverting and all, but why've we been dropped into the middle
of "Ivanhoe" all of a sudden?
MIKE: *sigh* I have a feeling we'll find out before long.
> There were times when Avery wished his father had never chosen to
>take the throne. Avery sighed, it wasn't likely that another starship
>would crash and her crew take over.
MIKE: Really? Why not?
CROW: Yeah, it's standard Trek plot #114.
> He looked up to see the first star of
>the night rising ...
CROW: Sandra Bullock's flying lessons are paying off.
> it was time to head back to Odyssey
>
TOM: We've got the backstory, now, run! Run like the wind!
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family"
>
CROW: He had a dream.
TOM: He had an *awesome* dream.
>From ???@0x000060FC Mon Dec 10 17:56:29 2001
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 2/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
>Message-ID: <jc6a1ukg0n0vffh9s003qm4d9shp0cq3qc@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
TOM: FORTE AGENT ONE POINT EIGHT BACKSLASH THREE TWO POINT FIVE
FOUR EIGHT!!!
MIKE: Ow!
TOM: See, cause forte means loud.
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MIKE: Hey, I think that's the title of a Yes album!
>Status: N
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 2/16
CROW: That's 1/8 in lowest terms.
> Serialized Weekly
TOM: For your protection.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: And is vanquished with ridiculous ease by the crew of Voyager.
CROW: So what else is new?
>Chapter One: Tavern
>
TOM: Immediately followed by "Chapter Two: Drunktank".
> Captain Picard took a deep breath as he entered the tavern.
MIKE: [Picard] Mmmm, fresh-baked cookies.
>Ah, the smell of the local ale.
CROW: It reminded him of wet Tellarites on a muggy summer day.
> It had been thirty years since he had been in
>the Lonely Dragon.
MIKE: The statute of limitation expired the moment he stepped in!
> The town of Alripor
TOM: Huh? The town of Al Roker?
> was literally light-years off
>ship's usual station.
CROW: But somehow less than 12 parsecs if you're in the Millennium Falcon.
> It was nice to see that some things stayed the same.
TOM: His hairline...
MIKE: Stinky French cheese...
CROW: Rick Berman's insatiable moneylust...
> True, the
>barkeeper's hair was no longer sandy brown,
CROW: He was shaved bald, and wearing a jacket made of hemp.
> and the signs of wear were more
>evident along the edge of the bar.
TOM: Although some of the dents fit the foreheads of the people he knew!
> Most of the patrons were unfamiliar to
>Picard, but it had been quite sometime. There was an old sea captain,
CROW: Arrrh, Jim lad!
>a young man with a young woman on his lap,
MIKE: Or it could have been a young woman with a man on her lap. Picard
decided he was better off not knowing.
> a man in an old ducal tunic,
TOM: It was made of duckskin?
CROW: It rubs the lotion on its feathers...
>and a couple men who were quite drunk.
MIKE: Then there was Paul the real estate novelist who never had time for
a wife. He's talking with Davy who's still in the Navy and probably
will be for life.
> "Ah Captain, it's been some time since this establishment has seen
>your like," the barkeep said.
CROW: [Barkeep] Someone who's had a bath this year!
> "Twenty-two years, I believe," Picard said. "I decided to return
>to sail the seas of my youth for the last year before I retire."
MIKE: Translation - Sad old man trolling for young tail.
> "Old Captains never retire, they go down with their ship!" a old
>seaman in the corner shouted.
CROW: [Picard] So what are you doing here, then?
TOM: [seaman] Um... shore leave?
> "It's a harsh life on the sea, and only a couple men survive on the
>Stargazer since the last time I set foot in Alripor," the Captain
>acknowledged.
MIKE: [Picard] I killed the rest myself. Shame really, but someone had to.
> "Times change.
TOM: And newspapers evolve.
> I figure I'll retire while I still have my
>health.
MIKE: [Picard] Funny, my - my arm is numb. I - it - *thunk*
> Then I'll settle down in my family's village up in the high valley
>below the Double Peaks."
CROW: [Picard] I've bought a house just below the Great Northern Hotel, and
I've met a lovely girl named Laura Palmer.
> "You won't last away from the sea," the old seaman said. "I've
>plied the coves and seas around this isle for half a century,
MIKE: And still you don't have a job.
> and I've yet
>to see a old seaman who could stay away from the sea."
CROW: [Picard] I repeat: what are you doing here, then?
TOM: [seaman] Look, can't a guy have a holiday once in a while?
> "'It is a wild call, a clear call,
MIKE: A 1-800-COLLECT call!
> which can not be denied,'"
>Picard quoted.
MIKE: But enough about becoming a Rescue Ranger.
> "True, so true, it's a story that we never want to end," the old
>seaman remarked.
ALL: Unlike this one.
> "Speaking of tales, I hear there is an interesting one regarding
>how this land received it's current king," the Captain said. "Perhaps you
>know the tale."
CROW: Good segue, Jean-Luc!
TOM: He's got all the subtlety of a Joint Congressional Inquiry.
> "Old Giles knows it, he was there," the barkeeper said.
MIKE: [Giles] Was not!
CROW: [Barkeep] Was so!
MIKE: [Giles] Big fat liar!
CROW: [Barkeep] Scurvy little snitch!
> "Aye," the sea captain said. "I know the tale."
TOM: [Captain] 'Tis the tale of a fateful trip! It started from this
tropic port...
> "Barkeep, a round on me, while Giles tells his tale," Picard said.
CROW: [Giles] Yes, you see I was assisting my charge, the Slayer, in our
investigation of an undead ice cream truck driver...
> "It was twenty years ago last Spring.
MIKE: Sgt. Pepper taught the band to swing!
> I was working as First Mate
>on the fishing vessel Herold's Hawk
CROW: Starring Bruce Willis and Danny Aiello!
> out of the village of Bluepor,"
TOM: And its neighboring town, Praktikal Joak.
>Giles began his tale.
> "Hey, last time you said you were Second Mate," a young man with a
>day's growth of beard said from his seat beside a blonde lass.
MIKE: [Young man] And you were wearing a full body cast. And it was
sleeting. And you had to walk to school uphill both ways. And the
fish was ten feet long.
> "And the time before that, Third," the blonde said.
CROW: And before that, he was the ship's purser, Gopher.
> "Okay, I was just a Midshipman," Giles said. "Any way ..."
TOM: [Giles] But we had Staubach back in those days!
> It wasn't a big ship,
CROW: It's all in how you use it.
> just a single mast and only 50 yards long,
>but the late Captain Mallard,
[All make quacking noises]
> God rest his kind soul, paid well.
MIKE: [Giles] In fact, I still don't know why we stripped him naked,
tied him to the anchor, and tossed him overboard!
> We were
>just about to enter Sapphire Bay, when we first heard it.
>
TOM: [Giles] It was horrible! A terrible screech powerful enough to
jostle the very corners of Hell itself!
MIKE: [Picard] It wasn't by any chance a group called Genesis, was it?
TOM: [Giles] Yes, how'd you know?
> It came from the sky.
TOM: IN MONSTER-RAMA 3-D!
CROW: AND THUNDERSOUND!
> A white marble stone, shaped like two dinner
>plates placed so their bottoms faced out wards, was descending from the
>sky.
MIKE: And mashed potatoes and peas and applesauce were leaking out from
the middle, I mean, it was just gross!
> It made a ear splitting roar as it skipped like a stone on thrown
>across a pond.
TOM: From the sky.
> I spun the wheel, to avoid the object as it impacted the
>water, making another hop into the bay.
CROW: From the sky.
MIKE: Cut that out!
> The Herold's Hawk was pushed back,
>on to the rocks
MIKE: That ain't no big surprise.
CROW: Yeah, just pour me a drink and I'll tell you some lies.
> on the east side of the entrance to the bay.
TOM: Hey, do you mind? We're saving this spot for the Mayflower.
> Only the
>extraordinary swell created by the saucer's bounce saved us from being
>hulled by the rocks.
CROW: Yeah, I think Popeye was saved by that trick once.
> After a brief check to make sure that we weren't leaking,
MIKE: [Giles] Thanks to the wonders of Depends...
> Captain
>Mallard ordered us to sail for the town of Sappor, at the back of the bay.
TOM: Translation - Beat cheeks!
>The Captain feared, rightly it turns out, that the object we had just
>avoided was headed towards the town.
TOM: Didn't I read this in Watchmen?
> Now Sappor at the time was one of the largest of our towns, just
>short of becoming a city.
CROW: [Giles] Of course, you'd know that, being from this planet and all.
> It was known as resort, its baths being renown
>for their healing purposes.
MIKE: Not to mention their scrubbing bubbles.
CROW: They work hard so you don't have toooooooooo.
> For years, Kings have maintained a castle on
>the harbor there,
TOM: After centuries of trying it the other way around.
> as sort of a retreat from the business of court, which
>use to be set in the city of Vestra.
CROW: [Giles] But, again, a native of this planet would know that, so why
am I even explaining it to you?
> It had been the custom of King
>Ferral,
MIKE: King *Will* Ferral.
TOM: He entertained the court with his Dubya impression.
> the ninth of that name, to spend the winter and early part of
>spring in Sappor, and he was residing in the Castle, along with all the
>royal family at the time.
TOM: Hey, Giles? Signal when you get near a point!
> When the town of Sappor appeared, we were shocked. The harbor
>was gone. The Castle was gone.
MIKE: The Costco Warehouse Store was gone. The Jiffy Lube was gone. All
85 Starbucks were gone.
> The only buildings left standing were the
>old Grey Eagle Inn, which was on the east end of town, and the Church of
>Our Lady of the Sea on the west end of town.
CROW: Somebody call in Secret Squirrel! *And* Atom Ant! Hurry!
> Between the two was the large
>saucer which had embedded itself where the harbor use to be, extending back
>to the old edge of town.
CROW: Sounds like "Alien Nation".
TOM: Nah, more like "Haven" to me.
MIKE: You guys really scare me sometimes.
> Around it's edges were the crushed remains of the
>town of Sappor.
>
MIKE: Yeah, we gathered. Thanks.
> At that, the man in the tattered ducal tunic interrupted. "It
>wasn't damaged that bad.
CROW: Ah, Spokesman for the Sappor Realtors Commission here.
> I visited the town a month after the disaster,
>and there were plenty of houses standing."
>
> "Whose telling this story?"
TOM: The Stephen Ratliff Motto.
> Giles said, gesturing with his glass of
>ale.
CROW: So, it's the booze talking?
> After a moment's silence, he took up the tale again.
>
TOM: And Cecil B. DeMillertime continues...
> After staring at the remains for what seamed like an eternity,
>Captain Mallard
CROW: ...Put on a cape and shouted "I am the terror that flaps in the night!"
> decided to send a boat to look for survivors and lend any
>aid. We went armed with our swords,
MIKE: They're going to *kill* the survivors? I fail to see how that helps.
> as we had no idea where this saucer
>had come from.
TOM: Gee, you don't think *the sky* would be a safe bet, do ya?
> I was on the first boat, and it was when we came ashore on the west
>side of the saucer that I met the lady who would become our Queen.
CROW: I asked myself, "Is this a real life? Is this just fantasy?"
> She was
>dressed in a strange blue and black outfit and was leading a group of five
>people in freeing a young girl from the wreckage of a house.
CROW: Caught in a landslide, no escape from...
TOM: Shut up!
> Queen Claire was a Doctor,
ALL: Not a bricklayer.
> apparently from the vessel which had
>crashed into Sappor. As we worked to free the young girl, and others, I
>learnt many things from watching her and her fellow crewmates.
TOM: Too bad how to tell a shorter story wasn't one of them.
> The ship
>was called the Odyssey, after a famous voyage in their homeland, which lies
>far beyond the stars.
MIKE: Produced by Roger Corman.
> They claimed that their ship was damaged and they
>had no choice but to make a crash landing.
CROW: And being rock stupid, you accepted that without question.
> All that day we spent freeing people.
TOM: They're with Amnesty Interstellar.
> At nightfall, the crew of
>the Odyssey retired their vessel,
MIKE: They gave it a dinner, a gold watch and a couple of wheelbarrows full
of Enron stock.
> which was nearly completely intact save
>for some damage from the rear and some forward windows which had been
>knocked out.
CROW: I call no way! The Enterprise-D was Galaxy-class ship, and its
saucer was trashed by crashing into a field!
TOM: Yeah, but the Enterprise-E rammed a great big huge giant Reman
warship with just paint scratches!
MIKE: Say what you want about Starfleet - they're constantly improving
their shock absorber technology.
> I and my crew mates returned to the ship.
CROW: And the townspeople returned to the piles of their houses and waited
for dysentery, cholera, and typhoid to set in.
> The next morning, a rider was spotted, heading towards town on the
>old road from Vestra. He was proceeding at a rather fast pace,
MIKE: Hey, fella, watch out for that gigantic wrecked...
TOM: *whumpf*
MIKE: ...starship.
> and I was
>surprised that he got as far as he did before he stopped his horse to gape
>at the ruins.
CROW: Hmph! Medieval rubbernecking!
MIKE: Take a lithograph! It'll last longer!
> The rider was wearing the insignia of the household of the
>King, apparently returning with some urgent message.
TOM: "Royal astronomers warn falling stars, evacuate Sappor soonest
possible"... uh-oh.
> After a moments
>pause, he resumed his journey.
CROW: [Messenger] Hm. The town's a smoking pit, and there's a giant
Frisbee where the palace used to be. No problem!
> It was around noon when the rider reached
>the Grey Eagle Inn.
CROW: Named for its owner, Sam the Eagle.
> The rider demanded to speak to who was in charge, it was then that
>the man in red and black made his presence known.
CROW: It's Santa Cash!
> He was a tall strong
>man.
MIKE: [Giles, dreamily] His arm muscles glistening with sweat. His strong,
firm thighs outlined by his riding tights. [Starts giggling]
> Strapped to his side was a saber, which glimmered as if it had never
>been used.
TOM: If Ratliff brings Mackenzie Calhoun into this, I will give him *such*
a pinch!
> "I guess that's me," the man said.
MIKE: [Giles] I'm withholding his name to heighten the suspense of it all.
> "I'm Captain Richard York
>of the Odyssey.
CROW: Intergalactic Studmuffin!
> That's my ship that crashed into this town, and I guess
>it's my job to clean up the mess.
MIKE: [York] I guess. Why do I always get the hard work? First I have
to load the dishwasher and now this!
> It was then that Captain York learnt the extent of the problem.
>King Ferrel was dead.
ALL: Gasp!
CROW: We'll never hear his Neil Diamond imitation again!
> His whole family was dead.
MIKE: All the royal pets: dead.
CROW: Wormer - dead. Neidermeyer - dead.
TOM: Heck, the whole world was dead! It's George Romero's King of the Dead!
> To make matters worse,
TOM: There was a fresh load of kittens in the castle that day.
> the four Dukes of the Kingdom were all one
>step from warring with each other.
CROW: And that step would be actually declaring war.
> In fact, the rider had just come from
>Laville where the Duke of Castrome
MIKE: The Duke was a bearded commie in a tinpot military uniform.
TOM: Great - the whole thing's a botched CIA operation!
> had forbidden any of the Duke of Astra's
>retainers from entering his Dukedom under pain of death.
TOM: Aw, but he spent ages polishing the upholstery!
> Now it looked
>like there would be civil war, because King Ferrel had always solved these
>problems
MIKE: Agh, what a bunch of wusses!
TOM: Car broken down? Call King Ferrel!
CROW: King Ferrel - the Mr. Fixit of the Kingdom.
> and now he was gone, so it would be even worse than before.
CROW: Yes, a civil war would definitely count as "worse than before".
> Captain York had an unreadable expression during the rider's
>explanations.
MIKE: Mainly, it was boredom.
> He then began asking questions. He asked about the Dukes.
>He asked about other nobles. He asked about alliances.
CROW: He asked about prime-time TV schedules.
MIKE: He asked about our local cheeses.
CROW: He asked why the sky was blue, and what was Vietnam, and
about a tree falling in an empty forest, and...
> Within an hour,
>he had picked our brains clean of any knowledge we had about the situation.
MIKE: [Giles] Basically, he left us a bunch of drooling morons.
> Finally, asked for someone who could write for him, and dictated a
>message.
CROW: [York] "Dear mom, have crashed on feudal planet, will be taking over
soonest, don't hold supper. Love, Ricky."
> He asked all four dukes to come to Sappor in four days. He
>signed it, the King, just that, nothing else.
TOM: Immediately, hordes of crazed Elvis fans crowded into the city.
> Then having four copies
>made, he had the rider pick three new riders and sent them off.
MIKE: It's an intergalactic chain letter.
> The next four days where spent with the Crew of the Odyssey
CROW: Where Crew?
MIKE: There Crew. There pips. There wolf.
TOM: *sigh* Sometimes, it's just too easy.
>clearing up the remains of the town of Sappor.
TOM: Great, they're obsessive-compulsive emergency medical technicians.
> By the time the Dukes
>arrived,
CROW: [Waylon] ...Boss Hogg was hopping mad, cuz they'd stolen all his
moonshine.
> all the wooden rubble had been cleared and some of the stone.
>They also had staked out the layout for what was to come the new city of
>Odyssey.
TOM: And the contractor had already told them they were over budget and
behind schedule.
> The four Dukes arrived with their usual large companies of
>soldiers. Each came in the company of a dozen knights and three dozen men.
MIKE: This is going to be an awkward doo-wop group.
>They each had a squire and page for each knight, a couple personal
>ministers, and a priest.
TOM: Given all this, how many knights, men, squires, pages, ministers
and priests did I meet on the way to St. Ives?
> The Duke of Fasstime brought his pet cat.
CROW: [Spicoli] Dude! That was my cat! I'm *so* wasted!
>The Duke of Castrome was accompanied by his daughter.
MIKE: Meadow Castrome.
CROW: Next up, a Duke and a Dame!
> The Duke of Avtra had
>his speaking bird which spoke more than the Duke.
CROW: And now, "Silent Cal" Avtra and his pretty birdie!
> The Duke of Armedge
>played his flute as his men marched to the cadence of his drummer.
CROW: And finally, Duke Future Embarrassing Scandal!
TOM: Let's give them all a big hand, they're here to bemuse us all until
such time as they get out of the story!
> They each were met by a man dressed in the King's livery, who lead
>them to camps situated away from the town, where tents bearing their arms
>were pitched.
MIKE: And where they could be executed in a neat, orderly fashion.
> The next day, they were summoned into the Odyssey.
TOM: How did they get into a book?
MIKE: They used Gumby technology.
> I don't
>know what was said in that meeting, only the Dukes do,
CROW: [Waylon] They wouldn't even tell ol' Cooter down at the garage.
> but I do know that
>they left the Odyssey changed.
TOM: [York] Screw the Prime Directive! Break out the mind sifter!
> Since then not a single incident has
>occurred between the dukes.
CROW: [Waylon] Yessir, the ol' Duke boys are nice an' peaceable now.
MIKE: I think we get it, Crow.
CROW: Not yet you don't. It has to be made *clear*!
> Upon the Dukes' return to their castles, they
>proclaimed Captain York, King Richard I of Ellosia..
MIKE: [Giles] Now let me tell you about the first year of his reign...
> Since then he has built up our navy, defended our shores from
>attack, and ruled us well.
>
TOM: [Giles] And, uh, he hasn't been struck down by a bolt from the sky
either, so that's another big bonus.
> "Surely there is more to the story than that,"Captain Picard said.
TOM: God, please, no!
MIKE: I think Stevie's been taking narration lessons from Pete.
>"You just don't lock yourself into a room and hope that an agreement will
>come,
TOM: Of course not. You lock the *other* guys in a room and wait for them
to agree.
> although I have heard of that technic working a time or two."
CROW: Got a problem? Legos will solve it!
MIKE: That's "Technix" Tom.
TOM: Oh! Never mind.
> The man in the ducal tunic raised his cup. "I was there when the
>Dukes met our current King," he said. I was once known as Lord Byron,
CROW: Oh, and have I mentioned that you walk in beauty like the night?
>the late Duke Carlisle of Castrome's Chamberlain.
MIKE: Try saying that four times fast with a spoon full of spinach.
> For another round, I'll tell
>you the sad tale of that meeting."
CROW: [Byron] *Two* more rounds and I'll give you the happy version!
MIKE: [Byron] *Three* more and I'll tell the story in the style of
a 50's radio program!
> "Barkeep, another round for Byron and my friends," Captain Picard
>said, raising his cup to clink with Byron's, sealing the deal.
>
CROW: Six hours later.
MIKE: [Loud and drunk] So there we were *HAW HAW*, tying the duke naked
to a goat!
> Duke Carlisle was a gaunt man in his mid fifties at the time of
>our King's ascension to the throne. He was engaged in an ongoing feud with
>Murdock,
TOM: The Duke Who Knows No Fear.
> who is still Duke of Avtra over Janna Bay and the town of Janna.
CROW: A town designed to fit well with the Name Game song.
TOM: So, he's Duke of a town and some water.
MIKE: Yep.
TOM: We're in Hell, aren't we?
MIKE: Yep.
>The Duke was tending to his estate at Castrome Cross when the royal
>messenger reached him, requesting his immediate appearance at Sappor.
MIKE: They have to get to Sappor before the food all cools off.
> The
>Duke was rather worried when he received the message. You see, he'd just
>finished a little raiding on Fort Janna, which overlooked Janna Bay and was
>manned by Murdock's men.
TOM: Fort Janna, protecting Janna City on Janna Bay. *Somebody* was up
all night thinking up the geography.
> But the late King Ferrel was not one who you
>disobeyed so blatantly.
TOM: But apparently you could kill him with little or no repercussion.
CROW: Laws are laws.
> A little raiding on a fellow Duke was easily
>ignored,
CROW: [Waylon] Except that one time Uncle Jesse caught Luke going through
Daisy's clothes closet! Boy howdy!
> but when the King summoned you, you came.
TOM: Looting and pillaging? Eh, that's small stuff! But you damn well
better be punctual!
> The Duke left the next morning with myself and his daughter,
>Desiree, in the company of about forty men.
MIKE: [Byron] Let's just say Desiree was... popular... and leave it at that.
> His advisers had argued
>against bringing Desiree, but the Duke loved his daughter and could not
>deny her request to come with him to Sappor's famous baths.
CROW: Ohhh ho ho! I smell a steamy bath scene coming up!
> I had remained
>silent, so I was the only advisor to go.
TOM: Once again, brown-nosing practice pays off big-time.
> The Duke had a low tolerance for
>disagreement when it came to requests from his daughter.
CROW: Being a spineless wimp and all.
MIKE: [Byron] Of course, in his defense, Desiree had a killer Kobayashi
Maru time.
> It was early on the second day when Sappor came into view. We were
>all shocked.
TOM: [Byron] None of us had expected "Spin City" to be canceled, and
we forgot to tape the season finale.
> The town was smashed beneath a large upside down ivory
>colored saucer.
CROW: Yeah. We covered this part. Get on with it!
> As we stood there and took in the view in the early
>morning, the Captain of the Duke's guard pulled out his scope.
MIKE: Just because it's the end of the world is no excuse for bad breath.
> He handed
>the scope to the Duke, pointing to the center of the saucer. The Ellosian
>Royal Standard was flying from a pole on the highest point of the saucer.
TOM: It may look bad, but at least Fort McHenry's held.
> Duke Carlisle took it all in stride. "I see the King has changed
>his castle," he said. "Some deal with some magician I'd imagine. Well, we
>haven't all day. Onward!"
CROW: They're sure hard to impress, aren't they?
MIKE: [Duke] The sun's turned blood red, you say? Just swamp gas. Now keep
moving!
> When we arrived at the edge of the town, we were taken to newly
>prepared camps in the fields.
MIKE: [Duke] Canst thou send me the Mayor?
TOM: [Peasant] Yes, milord, we'll slip him under your door.
> It wasn't until all of the Dukes had arrived
>that we were finally summoned in to the Odyssey.
CROW: Please stay in single file. Don't wander away from the tour guide.
Souvenirs are available in Ten-Forward. Keep moving, please.
> Duke Carlisle did ask
>several times why, but the only reply was that "that's what the Captain
>said." This worried the Duke greatly.
>
MIKE: He was late for a meeting with his dealer!
> When we were called, the Duke was only allowed two advisors and two
>guards.
CROW: Or he could choose three advisors and one guard; or three guards and
one advisor; or one guard, one advisor, and two chickens.
> For Castrome our party consisted of the Duke, myself, little
>Desiree, and two knights, Sir Percy
TOM: Famed for his touching ballad, "When a Knight Loves a Woman".
> and Sir Oswald.
MIKE: Who was later slain by Sir Jack of Ruby.
> We were taken into the
>Odyssey by what appeared to have been large windows. We were taken into a
>small room which then opened up onto an entirely different set of
>corridors.
CROW: It's a maze of twisty passages, all alike.
> Our destination was a large room with five tables. Each of
>them had the arms of one of the Dukedoms,
MIKE: Meanwhile, the armless Dukes lay bleeding to death.
> save for the fifth, which was on
>a platform and bore no marking. But a sturdy chair, much more impressive
>looking than the simple ones at the other tables was at the middle.
TOM: They Came From Planet Ikea!
> One by one, the other dukes joined us in the chamber, taking their
>seats at their adorned tables, with an advisor at each side, and their
>guards standing behind them.
MIKE: [Picard] You do realize that stretching out this story won't get you
more beer, right?
CROW: [Byron] Oh, poopie!
> The Dukes all engaged in hostile staring
>contests.
MIKE: Then a bear and a woman holding a sign reading "Andy's Mom" appeared
behind one of them and started making out.
> The Duke of Fasstime petted his cat.
TOM: He'd auditioned for the role of a Bond Villain, but couldn't make the
final cut, poor sap.
> Duke Murdock's pet bird
>began repeating various hostile comments about his rivals.
CROW: RRawk! Frank Burns Eats Worms!
> Desiree began bugging her father for a bird and a cat.
MIKE: [Little kid] And a bunny and a hamster and a ferret and a dinosaur
and a pony and a hippo and a unicorn and a fairy and an elephant.
> It was into this hostile atmosphere that Captain Richard York
>walked into the room. He was accompanied by his wife,
TOM: Elizabeth Montgomery.
> who would become the
>lovely Queen Claire, and a burly man named Harlan.
MIKE: Yeah, ask him when he's putting "Last Dangerous Visions" up on the
Internet. See if he'll eat you.
> They took the seats at
>the head table, as men in yellow and black uniforms took up posts at the
>doors and beside the head table.
CROW: This is the first "Camelot" fan fiction we've read, right?
> "It appears that this is going to be tougher than I thought,"
>Richard mumbled before raising his voice to address the Dukes.
TOM: [John Wayne] Well, hel-lo there, pil-grims!
> "Good
>Afternoon, your graces. I know who you are,
CROW: [Dr. Forrester] And I saw what you did!
MIKE: You used to be able to do that voice so much better, Crow.
> and I believe you know
>everyone but, me,
TOM: The punctuation in, this sentence, is kind of, awkward.
> so I better introduce myself and tell you why I'm here.
MIKE: And why I'm wearing this dress.
>I'm Captain Richard York of the Starship Odyssey.
TOM: [York] Now, have any of you ever heard of a thing called "Amway"?
> The structure you are
>now in is what remains of my ship. I was on patrol of this sector of
>space, guarding it from Cardassians when a Cardassian Warship attacked my
>ship.
CROW: If you listen closely, you can hear this going way over their heads.
TOM: What happened to telling myths of the island "Earth" from far across
the sea?
> The Odyssey and her crew managed to destroy the warship, but the
>ship was damaged beyond repair,
CROW: [Random Duke] But isn't everything still working? You've got power
and everything!
MIKE: [York] DO NOT QUESTION ME! NEVER QUESTION ME!!!
TOM: [Byron] It was then that he earned the name, King Richard the
Hair-Triggered.
> and we were forced to make a barely
>controlled landing on this planet.
TOM: Barely controlled? They picked out the one stinking town in a hundred
mile radius!
> In the process, we crushed the town of
>Sappor and killed many people, including, according to what I've been told,
>the entire royal family.
CROW: [York] Sorry 'bout that. Now, who's for some lunch?
> As my ship caused the problem, I feel it is my
>responsibility to see that nothing suffers because of it.
TOM: [York] And when I say "nothing", I'm not counting the hundreds of
natives horribly mangled beneath this metallic leviathan.
> I've spent the
>last five days speaking to various surviving members of the late King
>Ferrel's court, and have come to the conclusion that
MIKE: [York] Ferrel really *is* a ridiculous name.
> none of you would
>support another one of your fellow dukes as King, and that there is no
>clear candidate to become King.
CROW: [York] Apparently, Lord Bush and Lord Gore are deadlocked, and the
Duchy of Palm Beach is rioting.
> Is that a good assessment, your graces?"
MIKE: Oh, I hate taking class evaluations. If I say something bad about
the instructor, I feel guilty. But if I make them sound too good,
I'm afraid it won't look realistic.
> It took a while for the Dukes to digest this new information.
TOM: [duke] What the hell's a Cardassian?
>Each of them began looking at their counterparts with suspicious glares.
CROW: So, he's *completely* insane then?
> As that confirmed his opinion, the Captain continued. "In
>addition, no one can become king without your support.
TOM: Them and the parliament or diet or witenagemot, sure.
MIKE: The *what*?
TOM: England, before William the Conqueror. Look it up.
MIKE: Get away from me.
> I'd like to have it."
TOM: [York] Seeing as you backward hicks couldn't even *hope* to govern
yourselves properly.
> That caused the room to break up in sputtering "What? No way!
CROW: Way!
TOM: No way!
CROW: Way!
MIKE: Baron Garth and Duke Wayne, ladies and gentlemen.
>Who do you thing you are?"
TOM: [Morticia] Thank you, Thing.
> The Captain let that go on for a minute or so
>before calling the room back to order.
> "Your Graces!" he ordered. "Sit down, and shut up!"
MIKE: Smartest thing anyone's said in the entire fanfic.
> Somehow that
>settled them down.
CROW: Yes, most royalty reacts positively to being treated like 4-year olds.
MIKE: Though all the guards leveling their pulsed phaser rifles at them may
have helped a bit.
> "That's better. Now I realize that this is not what
>you expected when you were called here.
MIKE: [York] Heck, that's not even what *I* expected when I called you here.
> I'm sure every one of you, down to
>the last guard and with the possible exception of the young girl chasing
>the cat, want to be King."
CROW: Yes, even the cat has an evil plan to take over the kingdom. Of
course, that's not really unusual for cats...
> During the uproar, the cat had left the Duke of Fasstime's table
>and was now being chased by the young girl on the far end of the room.
MIKE: Oh really? I couldn't gather that from the previous sentence.
Thanks for clearing that up for us.
TOM: Hey, look, it's a metaphor for the search for power!
>Her father called her back, and she returned to the seat, with the cat,
CROW: Yeah, and there are the constitutional limits on that power...
>who had been captured just short of pouncing on the bird.
MIKE: Just short of the prize! It'd be a brilliant foreshadowing of where
we know this story is going if we weren't sure it was just padding.
> "I think you'll find that my administration would be a lot easier
>than you taking the job.
TOM: [York] I just thought I'd emphasize some more what a slovenly,
backward country this is.
> I'm sure that there are days when you wish you
>never had become a Duke.
MIKE: Like "Dunk the Duke Fridays" down at the bar.
> Well, I've been told by several Kings that a
>King's job is much, much worse."
TOM: It's a great argument - if you're trying to scare Kelly Bundy out
of the job.
> "Duke Murdock of Avtra, I understand you are unwed.
CROW: [York] So, are you, like, busy Friday night and stuff?
> If you took the
>throne you would be pressured into a marriage for political purposes.
TOM: He'd have to marry Jenna Bush?
>Duke Carlisle, your daughter would suffer the same,
MIKE: Then she'd be forced to join the Go-Go's.
> never being able to marry
>for love.
CROW: This guy is completely unaware of the concept of mistresses, isn't he?
TOM: And he says he knows royal politics...
> Duke Lionel of Fasstime, I understand you had some trouble
>maintaining the Fasstime-Arm Road through Hammer Pass.
CROW: [sputtering] Arm? Hammer?
TOM: [Stephen] Let's see, what shall I name my fictional creations? I
think an inspirational trip to Krogers is called for here.
> If you were King,
>that wouldn't be the only road you had to worry about.
MIKE: [York] You'd be in charge of all those old Hope & Crosby movies too.
> Duke Nolan of
>Armedge, I understand that shortly after you became duke, you had to clear
>out the corrupt administration of the port of Arm.
TOM: Did you ever find the Earl of Hoffa, by the way?
> As King you would have
>to oversee over eight major ports.
CROW: And you clearly don't want somebody with experience and zeal for
that sort of work doing it.
> My Lord Dukes, I haven't even got to
>taxes, mediation, and ceremony.
CROW: [Duke] Boy, being King is sure hard work!
MIKE: [Duke] Yeah, if only there were someone who'd do it for us.
> I find it hard to believe that any of you
>want this job.
TOM: [York] Just how dumb ARE you guys?
> I am willing to take it on because I feel it's my duty
>because I caused the mess. Now, what say you?"
CROW: [Duke Lionel] I say you're a filthy, murdering usurper. And I'm not
going to...
MIKE: [York] SILENCE!
CROW: Yessir...
> Duke Murdock was first to speak. "After listening to your words, I
>do not want the job.
CROW: [Murdock] Being a king and stuff sucks! I wanna play in my band!
> I would not support any of my fellow dukes,
>so I believe I must pledge my loyalty to you, my King."
TOM: [Murdock] Your flawed, logic-less arguments have swayed my opinion.
> At the end of his statement, the colorful bird on his shoulder
>announced, "Long Live the King!"
MIKE: Then it pooped on the guy's shoulder.
> Duke Nolan was next, standing at his table.
TOM: Could we have some bread, *please*? And a menu finally?
> "I do not want the
>job.
CROW: Although I do want the power and prestige that comes with it.
> I spent three years rebuilding the port of Arm after corruption and
>raids from pirates nearly destroyed it.
TOM: You'd think he could at least have hired some tradesmen to help.
> I do not even want to think about
>what it would take to restore Sappor."
MIKE: Geez, maybe York's right - these guys sure aren't king material.
> Duke Lionel stood next. "I've been duke for ten years. During that
>time I've seen much infighting among my fellow dukes and attempted to end
>it among my vassals.
CROW: [Lionel] Which is why I had their sword arms all hacked off. Results
are mixed.
> I do not wish to see this fighting increase unto
>civil war.
TOM: [Lionel] Because if you think I'm hanging a Confederate flag in *my*
castle, you got another thing coming!
> I do not know you, Captain York,
MIKE: But there is nothing I wouldn't do for your Peppermint Patties.
> but I know my fellow noblemen
>too well. I will consent to your Kingship, because I do not believe anyone
>I know can do it."
CROW: Turns out alien planets are *easy* to conquer.
> Duke Carlisle was last to rise. "You have shown us that you are a
>take charge fellow, filled with duty.
TOM: That's a line designed to make our inner nine-year-olds titter.
> That is good. You've commanded this
>ship in space battles, you tell us.
MIKE: [Carlisle] So obviously you're some kind of outer demon or something!
> Your technology appears much greater
>than ours, yet you still ask us for your support when you could no doubt
>take us against our will.
CROW: Or maybe his injured, battle-wearied Starfleet officers are
vastly outnumbered by your standing armies. Dink.
> That is good. You are in short, just what we
>need. I will not stand in your way."
MIKE: Here's a man who knows which butt to kiss and when.
> It was with the tentative support of the Four Dukes that King
>Richard began his reign.
>
TOM: How to become king: Step 1 - Kill the current king and all his
relatives.
CROW: Step 2 - Convince all the nobles that they don't want the job.
MIKE: Step 3 - Inform the nobles that you *do* want the job.
TOM: Step 4 - Since you want the job and all the other nobles don't,
therefore you become king.
> "Now, Captain, we've told our tale, perhaps you can regale us with
>a tale or two about your adventures on your ship," Byron said,
MIKE: [Picard] Well, for that, just tune in to TNN every weeknight at
8:00 PM, 7:00 PM Central.
> emptying his
>glass again. "Barkeep, another ale!"
CROW: So, is this a Captain's Table story now?
> "I believe I have a tale," Captain Picard said. "It is about my
>third mate, truly an unusual officer."
TOM: [Picard] He's a Jell-O based being from the tenth dimension and he
only talks in ferret noises.
MIKE: [Byron] That's at most eccentric.
> "There is no such thing as an unusual seaman," Giles replied.
MIKE: *Ahem!*
TOM: *mmmmmmmmmwah!* Goodnight, everybody!
> "I disagree," Captain Picard replied. "But I ask that you reserve
>judgement until after I tell you how I acquired my second mate."
>
MIKE: Picard has a trophy wife?
CROW: He dumped Beverly for a 22-year old aerobics instructor named Mandi
from Spandex III.
> It was three years ago when I was sailing the Northern Seas, when
>my Third Mate at the time, came to me with a request.
TOM: [Picard] But what *good* would a shipboard version of "Plinko" do?
> It seemed that he
>had a wife in the port we were at that had just died,
CROW: He was the kinda guy that had a dead wife in every port.
> leaving a twelve year
>old child behind. He wondered if I might allow that child to serve as my
>cabin boy.
TOM: Instead of doing something stupid, like going ashore and raising the
kid himself instead of endangering him on the open sea.
> I had no objections, having lacked one for some time.
CROW: He shoulda just joined the Chris Elliot fan club.
> The next morning, he brought the child aboard. The child appeared
>quite scruffy, with blond hair that appeared to have been cut off with a
>knife.
MIKE: Hair by Mr. Scissorhands.
> However the outfit was clean, brand new looking in fact. So I put
>the child to work.
CROW: [Picard] I ran a sweatshop in the lower decks!
> We had been out to sea for three weeks on a two month trip, when
>the pirates attacked.
TOM: It began with their detaching the saucer section of the sailing ship
and traveling at warp speed around the whirlpool to - oh, forget it.
> We had been too predicable with our regular spice
>trip.
MIKE: [Picard] They shall come all - for violence!
> We fought them off and sunk their ship with a broadside of four of
>our ten cannons, but their attack had been with a heavy price.
TOM: $10,345.95
> Seven men
>were dead, including my third mate.
MIKE: [Picard] Also dead were my third chum, fourth pal, and fifth buddy.
> The child took it hard, but I gave the child no chance to drown in
>grief.
CROW: Yeah, yeah, daddy's dead, boohoohoo. Now go get me a flagon of grog,
Earl Grey, hot!
> We needed every hand. I put the child to work, mending sails,
>repairing damage, and so forth.
MIKE: Ironing my shirts...
CROW: Reading me bedtime stories...
TOM: Fluffing my pillow...
> There wasn't a job on the ship that the
>child hadn't learnt by the time we hit port. Unfortunately, I lost another
>five men who deserted in that port, so we were even more shorthanded on the
>return journey.
MIKE: [Picard] Then everyone died, including me. Boy, that was rough.
> During the return, the child became a fixture at my side.
TOM: [Picard] Later, I remodeled and had a wet bar put in instead.
> Anything
>I needed, the child provided.
CROW: You'd think that'd work the other way around.
> I, in turn, provided the child with
>knowledge.
TOM: The Young Radar O'Reilly Hornblower Chronicles.
> I taught the child how to sail, how to sword fight, and how to
>read and write.
MIKE: [kid] But I've already read "A Christmas Carol"! 35 times this week!
> But the child harbored a secret, one that I did not learn until a
>year later.By then the child was acting as the junior most of my
>officers, taking the second dog watch,
TOM: But who was watching the first dog?
MIKE: There are some things man was never meant to know.
> and I had a new cabin boy.
MIKE: [Picard] The boy having grown large enough to fight me off.
> We were traveling though the same sea on nearly the same voyage as
>the one in which I had lost my Third Mate, the child's father.
MIKE: You'd think he'd at least know "the child's" name by now.
> I had set a
>watch, but thick fog was impeding our progress. It was the fog that
>allowed the pirates to get close enough to board us.
CROW: Sure. *Always* blame it on pirates.
> But my sword fighting
>practice served us well, and we fought off the pirates,
MIKE: Thus clinching the NL Wild Card spot.
> the child making
>several impressive kills.
CROW: [Picard] Though killing that last guy with a 90-hit Ultra *was*
a bit much...
> However, the pirates did not leave the child
>unharmed, for they made several glancing cuts on the child.
TOM: Hi, Stephen? I'm a pronoun. Have we met?
> At the end of the battle, the pirates had lost, but the child's
>clothes were barely hanging on her body.
MIKE: Wait a sec... this is the result of several 'glancing' cuts?
What is she wearing, taffeta?
> It was apparent that I hadn't had
>a cabin boy, but a cabin girl.
CROW: [Picard] Suddenly, images of "Boys Don't Cry" floated through my
brain!
TOM: Geez, Sherlock, what was your first clue - the high-pitched voice or
the bumps on her chest?
> The girl was worried that I would throw her off the ship, now that
>I knew, for it is well known that ship captains prefer not to have women
>among their crews. I admit that the thought crossed my mind, but the girl
>had proved her merit.
TOM: Plus, she looked pretty good in tattered clothing!
> I certainly wasn't going to let her go in the middle
>of the sea,
CROW: But if you let her go and she comes back to you, she's yours forever.
> and I had promised her father that I would take care of her,
>although if I ever meet her father, somewhere beyond the grave, we're going
>to have a long talk.
TOM: So Captain Picard's view of the afterlife is interminable conferences.
MIKE: That's his view of life anyway.
> It was then that the death of my Fourth Mate at the
>time was discovered.
CROW: Fortunately, by subtracting his Fifth Mate from his Ninth Mate, he was
able to make do.
> I told the girl to go get dressed and began asking
>the rest of the officers who they thought could best fill the position.
MIKE: They named Frank Lautenberg.
>It was to my great surprise that the girl was their choice.
TOM: [Picard] Only Botswain Manitoba objected, so we pitched him overboard.
MIKE: Calgary.
TOM: Whatever.
> The door of the bar opened, and banged shut behind the person who
>entered.
ALL: NORM!!!
> The person was dressed in the same style of ship's uniform that
>Captain Picard wore, though less adorned.
TOM: Withholding her name isn't going to leave us any doubt who she is.
> Her hair was shoulder length,
>and blond. She, taking her beret like hat off, approached Picard's table
>and said, "Excuse me, Captain, but Commander Riker's compliments.
CROW: ...are fawning and insincere and he wants your job so bad he can
taste it.
>He wishes to inform you that we've obtained passengers for Odyssey, and
>are ready to embark on the evening tide."
TOM: Huh?
CROW: Translation: We're all aboard and ready to take off.
> "Very well, Marrissa," Captain Picard said. "I will be along as
>soon as I settle up my tab.
MIKE: Sadly, Picard soon discovered all they had was Diet Rite.
> Please wait for me outside."
> "Aye sir." The young girl left as Picard moved over to the bar to
>pay the barkeeper.
> "That's a nice young girl, you've got there," the barkeep
>commented.
ALL: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!
> "That will be 5 silver."
> "She's a fine officer," Captain Picard said, handing over the
>silver pieces before departing the bar.
TOM: His career as a lawyer was at an end.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff ASC FAQ Maintainer
>http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff/FAQs
>
CROW: So we've learned that if you're a Starship captain, you can drop your
ship on a primitive city, pretty much wipe out their entire royal
family, denigrate and bully the local nobles, and in return, they'll
gratefully make you king. Right?
TOM: Well, it worked for Nixon.
>From stephenratliff@crosswinds.net Tue Dec 18 18:53:20 2001
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 3/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
MIKE: Uh... Two things Stephen Ratliff should never write about.
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
>Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2001 00:53:20 GMT
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 3/16 Serialized Weekly
CROW: Must be one of those 45-day metric weeks.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>Chapter Two: Sailing Away
>
CROW: No!
TOM: What? What's wrong with o/` Sailing away? o/`
[Crow shudders for a moment before...]
CROW: Ahhhhh! o/` Setanopencoursetothevirginsea o/`
MIKE: You'd think he'd learn.
TOM: Apparently not.
> The ship's boat was waiting for Captain and Lieutenant Picard.
TOM: I see the ship's boat has acquired sentience.
CROW: But not intelligence.
>They boarded, and the men began to pull for the Stargazer.
MIKE: Go for it, Stargazer!
TOM: Yeah, you can do it, buddy!
> The sea was
>choppy, and the golden sunset was obscured by heavy grey clouds.
CROW: So nobody could see it. But trust us, it was golden.
> Marrissa
>took the tiller, and steered the boat towards the three masted ship.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Excellent. Mr. Ottawa, open fire!
CROW: It's Calgary.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Whatever!
> The
>Stargazer showed some wear, but was freshly painted, having just been
>beamed down from a specially designed cargo carrier that the Enterprise had
>towed.
MIKE: So Picard drags this specially designed cargo carrier around that
can hold and repair seafaring ships just on the off chance he
might want to go for a short sail?
CROW: Someone's getting eccentric in his old age.
> The smell of the sea air was a tonic to the Captain.
MIKE: Specifically, a *gin* and tonic.
TOM: [Marrissa] C'mon, dad, sober up a little, willya?
> It renewed
>his sense of adventure, propelled him beyond duty, and made him wish for
>simpler times.
CROW: Then he remembered he'd done this a thousand times on the holodeck,
and broke down into tears.
> Ah, to sail on the power of the air on your sails, to
>follow the sea's current on the sound of the breaking waves.
TOM: To fight scurvy and rickets.
MIKE: To smell like rotting fish all day.
CROW: To be trapped on a boat with 40 unwashed sailors for weeks and weeks.
TOM: To not see a woman for months at a time.
MIKE: To hit a patch of sharp rock and die a watery death.
CROW: To die halfway around the world at the hands of yo-yo wielding
cannibals.
> To Marrissa, this was a new challenge.
CROW: But for Marrissa there would be another day.
> Challenges were not
>something that Marrissa backed down from.
MIKE: Marrissa likes to view them not as challenges, but opportunities.
> She was, in a way, like a
>character in one of her anime, Ranma Saotome.
TOM: If you throw hot water on her, she turns into a guy?
MIKE: It would explain why Picard couldn't recognize her gender during
his flashback.
> A challenge was a call to
>battle, and she wouldn't quit until she won.
CROW: No matter who she had to kill.
> They pulled along side. "Oars up!" Marrissa ordered. The ship's
>boat team had spent several hours on the holodeck learning how to do this.
TOM: Tha hell? They had to *learn* how to take the oars out of the water?!
MIKE: These guys weren't exactly head of their academy class.
>"Mr. James, take the tiller."
TOM: ...Please!
> First Marrissa, then the Captain,
MIKE: What next? Penguins?
> climbed on
>board. As the Captain climbed up, the bosun's whistle rang in a three tone
>greeting.
[Tom imitates the NBC chime]
MIKE: [plugging nose] Now hear this, now hear this, prepare for arrival of
scientist from Earth.
> "Welcome back aboard, Captain," Commander Riker said.
> "Ship's status, number one?" Picard asked.
MIKE: [Riker] Ten seconds away from sinking, sir!
TOM: [Picard] Up from three. Excellent!
> "We're fully stocked
CROW: With booze.
> and ready to depart," Riker said. "The
>Duchess and her party are aboard and in the passenger quarters.
CROW: [Riker] I took "special" care of the Duchess, if you know what
I mean...
TOM: [Picard, exasperated] Yes, Number One, congratulations on nailing
one of the locals. Again.
> The
>evening tide begins in a quarter hour."
MIKE: [Riker] Shuffleboard is available up on deck, and we have some
excellent live shows this evening at five, seven, and nine.
> "Very well, Number One," Picard said. "We will sail into the
>setting sun.
TOM: [Riker] Won't that make us catch on fire and burn up?
CROW: [Picard] That's why we're going to sail mostly at night.
> Raise anchor and prepare for departure."
>
TOM: INTENSE DEPARTING ACTION!
> Marrissa stood on the quarter deck, to the right of the helm. It
>was the last dog watch,
CROW: [sobbing] No! Old Yeller!
> and she was in command.
TOM: [Little phaser noises] Tzoo! Tzoo tzoo tzoo! Tzoo tzooooo!
> The sun was just coming
>up, and the Stargazer had picked up a fresh westerly breeze.
CROW: Say, what ever happened to Westerly Crusher?
TOM: He was at Riker and Deanna's wedding, but most of his scenes wound up
on the cutting room floor.
> She looked down at the main deck. A young girl had just come up
>out of the hold.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Oooh! Royalty! 500 point shot!
> It appeared to be the Lady Hayley, who was the Duchess's
>daughter.
TOM: It's Hayley Mills and Hayley Mills, in "The Marrissa Trap".
> Marrissa had met the girl briefly at dinner the previous night.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Hi, I'm Marrissa.
CROW: [Hayley] Hi.
>The young blonde girl was Marrissa's age and seemed to be quite curious.
MIKE: Fortunately, she had a man with a yellow hat to watch her at all
times.
>Lady Hayley had spent most of dinner questioning La Forge about the ship.
CROW: [Hayley] What's that thingy that makes the sails go poof?
TOM: [Geordi] That's called "the wind", dear...
> The girl climbed up the starboard ladder to the quarterdeck. "I
>hope you don't mind me coming up here," the girl said.
TOM: In response, Marrissa snapped her neck and dumped the body overboard.
> "I just want to see
>the sun rise.
CROW: [Marrissa] Enjoy it. I gotta go or I'll turn to dust and ashes.
> "I don't mind," Marrissa said. "Other officers of the watch may,
>though."
ALL: [Officers] We don't mind.
> "Officers of the watch?" Lady Hayley asked.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Some lame-o cult Riker formed that worships Timex.
They're really touchy.
> "The person left in command of the ship for a certain length of
>time," Marrissa said. "It's usually
TOM: [Marrissa] Me, Clara, or one of the other Powerpuff Kids Crew.
> the top five officers, excluding the
>Captain."
> "Why not the Captain?" Hayley asked.
CROW: [Marrissa] He's just a figurehead for our bourgeois overlords.
> "He's in command all the time," Marrissa said. "An officer of the
>watch only commands the ship when he's not here.
MIKE: So only people who aren't there are in charge?
> Some people call the
>position the duty officer."
CROW: And some people call it the gangster of love.
> "Who are those officers?" Hayley asked.
TOM: And you can make sure it's a very long and detailed list?
> "Well, our first mate, Commander Riker commands the first watch,"
>Marrissa said.
CROW: Hawkeye and Trapper John take the other two. They may be trouble,
but they're the best darned doctors in the whole Korean theater.
> "He's that bearded guy who made that colorful toast last
>night at dinner."
MIKE: [Hayley] The one with all the drunken laughter and hand gestures?
> "Your captain looked like he was going throw something at the
>Commander," Hayley said.
CROW: [Marrissa] Yeah, well, Riker inspires that.
> "Quite possibly," Marrissa said.
TOM: [Marrissa] They're thoroughly hate-filled, you know.
> "Our second mate, Lieutenant La
>Forge commands the second watch. He answered your questions last night at
>dinner.
MIKE: [Marrissa] He asked me to tell you not to talk to him again. Ever.
> He came up though the ship's carpentry
CROW: Left a huge hole in the floor.
> and still does some work on
>the side.
TOM: Port side only, though - he's a specialist now.
> I'm third mate, and I command the last of the dog watches."
CROW: [Marrissa] You know. In case we're attacked by dogs. On the ocean.
Oh, hell. I'm just making this stuff up as I go along.
> "Dog watches?" Hayley asked.
MIKE: Yeah, you know, like Satchel wears in "Get Fuzzy".
> "The three watches between dusk and dawn,"
TOM: Starring George Clooney.
> Marrissa said. "They're
>also called ticks.
ALL: SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!
> The first two both last four hours, but the last one
>can last longer, depending on the time of year, giving it the name 'the
>long tick.'"
CROW: [Tick] Look, Arthur! I'm all stretchy and bendy! It's keen!
> "You know a lot," Hayley said, leaning against the rail.
MIKE: Yep, I can just picture it - Haley standing there. Vacant stare on
her face. Idly twirling a curl around her finger...
TOM: I can almost hear the bubble gum popping.
> "Dad insists that I study a lot," Marrissa said.
CROW: [Marrissa] He says it keeps me out of his hair. [normal] Ha!
See? Cuz Picard told her about the hair, y'see, and - he's -
y'know, all bald.
TOM: We got it, Crow.
CROW: It's funny, see?
MIKE: [pats Crow on head] Of course it is.
> "Especially when
>we have to go off ship. Be careful with that rail, it's a little lose"
TOM: Tom Stewart killed me! Tom Stewart killed me!
> "Why then?" Hayley asked, moving back from the rail.
TOM: Then promptly falling off the other side.
MIKE: [Hayley] Oopsieeeeeeeee....
> "It helps prevent you from making mistakes," Marrissa said.
CROW: [Marrissa] Like messing with me! Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!
> "Not
>all places have the same rules as Ellosia.
MIKE: [Marrissa] I mean, there are some places that don't even allow a
Starfleet captain to murder the local king and take over!
CROW: [Hayley] How horrible!
> If you don't know the rules,
>it's a lot harder to avoid breaking them."
MIKE: Like not allowing children onto the bridge of a starship?
CROW: Or giving children command of a starship in times of war?
TOM: Or altering history for your own selfish whims?
MIKE: Actually, Janeway broke that altering history rule.
CROW: So did Kirk.
TOM: That was different. Kirk did it to save earth from mortal danger.
Janeway was just irritated that she didn't get a parade.
> "Oh," Hayley said. "You have nice sunrises at sea."
TOM: Quite an attention span on that one.
MIKE: [Hayley] My hair smells nice.
> "Sometimes," Marrissa said. "You can see a lot at sea, with
>nothing to block your view.
CROW: Namely, water. Lots and lots and lots of water.
> Even more when you're at the top of the
>masts."
MIKE: [Marrissa] And more still when you blast the shoreline flat!
> "You climb all the way up there?" Hayley said, craning her head to
>look up to the top.
CROW: [Hayley] It must be six feet up!
> "Sometimes," Marrissa said. "The Captain doesn't like it when I do
>though. Calls it a foolish stunt."
TOM: Puts it on NBC. Leaves us all feeling degraded.
> "It is, but the view is amazing," Commander Riker said. Marrissa
>turned to find him standing behind her.
MIKE: Yeah, yeah. And the love that you've found ever since she's been
around puts you at the top of the mast. Move along already.
> "Good Morning, Commander," Marrissa said. "I believe you know Lady
>Hayley, she got up to see the sunrise this morning."
CROW: That's why I've been talking her ear off instead of letting her look.
> "Good Morning, Lady Hayley," Riker said, dipping in a slight bow.
TOM: [Riker] Hi, ladies. I know I've been out of the story for a while.
Don't worry, you'll be able to enjoy me the rest of this scene.
>"Lieutenant Picard, anything to report."
TOM: [Marrissa] Well, I've discovered the Romulans are preparing to
invade...
CROW: [Riker] Good, good. Say Hayley, you ever seen the sunrise from
Inspiration Point?
> "Wind is out of the south-east, and our speed is at 12 knots,"
MIKE: Barometric Pressure is 30.12 inches and rising, and local humidity
is about 105%. Let's go to Doppler and see what's heading this way.
>Marrissa said. "I adjusted course five points to port a half an hour ago.
>Based on current speed, we should arrive at Sapphire Bay late this
>afternoon, if the wind holds."
TOM: If it doesn't hold, we'll get there day before yesterday. I can't
explain it.
> "Very well, Lieutenant, you are relieved," Riker said,
MIKE: [Marrissa, muttering] I will be once *you* leave, ya big jerk!
> turning to
>stand by the wheel.
TOM: o/` Stand by your whee-e-e-el... o/`
> "Yes sir," Marrissa said. "If you'd follow me, Lady Hayley,
>perhaps we can get an early breakfast from the cook."
>
MIKE: [Marrissa] It's flapstick day!
BOTS: WOO-HOO!!
> Beverly Picard adjusted her robe as she entered the Inn.
MIKE: Are you sure it's wise to visit an Inn in your bathrobe?
>It had been a long ride from Arlipor
MIKE: Isn't it "Alripor"?
CROW: I think you're right.
TOM: Which is worse: That Stephen misspelled the name of a place he
invented, or that we've been paying enough attention to notice?
> to the town of Castrome Cross. Though the
>robes of the Healing Sisterhood of the Order of Saint Cecilia were made
>thin for the tropical weather of Ellosia,
TOM: Woops! A little *too* thin - especially when she's got the sun
behind her like that, heh heh heh.
> they were somewhat unmanageable
>compared to the uniform of a Star Fleet Doctor.
CROW: But still better than the lime green muumuu the elder sisters
wanted her to wear.
> At her side was Clara,
MIKE: The quiet Beatle.
> who
>was dressed in the common attire of the daughter of a wealthy landowner.
TOM: Tommy Hilfiger and BUFU.
CROW: [Beverly] Stupid Kids' Crew punks, get all the good clothes...
> "Welcome to the Inn of the Flying Dragon, revered sister," the
>Innkeeper said. "How may I be of assistance?"
TOM: [Beverly] Uh, yeah... hi. Is there a Marriot around here somewhere?
> "My charge and I require a simple room for a night's stay
MIKE: They're not up to handling the complicated rooms.
CROW: They'll be stumped if they get a room with a door that doesn't
open just by walking at it.
> and would
>inquire about possible companions for our journey to Odyssey," Beverly
>said.
TOM: [Inkeeper] You want the "Raging Stallion" next door for "companions".
CROW: [Beverly] That's not what I meant. But thanks for the tip!
> "We have a room available for just a silver," the Innkeeper said.
MIKE: [Beverly] I... can give you three toothpicks and a Monopoly piece.
> "That will be fine," Beverly said.
> "I believe the minstrel in the corner is on his way to Odyssey,
>perhaps he will be able to accompany you."
CROW: Oh... my... God!
TOM: Nonononono, not a minstrel!
MIKE: Wait, guys, maybe he won't sing!
TOM: C'mon, Mike, introducing a minstrel who doesn't sing is like having a
Starfleet redshirt who lives!
> Over in the corner was a minstrel, dressed in worn traveling
>clothes that were rather well tailored for such a roving harpist.
TOM: [Beverly] Umm... Could you point out someone less useless and
effeminate?
CROW: A *harp*?!? A freakin' *harp*?!? Geez, why not just lug around
a Steinway or something?
MIKE: He's from the Island of Misfit Harpo Marxes!
> He was
>signing a popular air,
MIKE: Wouldn't it be easier just to close-caption him?
> as those in the common room gathered around him.
>
CROW: Clubs and tire-irons in hand...
> "Once there was a king from heavens above
> A royal beyond measure was he.
MIKE: o/` He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum... o/`
> The Lord above sent him to rule our fair country
>
TOM: Oh come on, that didn't even rhyme.
> "Once there was a Duchess, Desired was she
> Her beauty was the call of the whole country
CROW: o/` In that thong, th-thong-thong-thong! o/`
> It's a shame that little brother captured Desiree.
>
TOM: Okay, I am officially confused.
MIKE: I just don't think you can do a blank verse sonnet is all.
> As the minstrel shifted into a instrumental piece,
MIKE: PLAY "WHIPPING POST"!!
TOM: FREEBIRD!
CROW: [Bad southern accent] EAT A PEACH! WOOOO!!!
> Beverly
>approached.
TOM: [Beverly] Here's $50 if you promise not to sing until we're gone!
> "Pardon me, sir minstrel, but the Innkeeper tells me that
>you're heading towards Odyssey on the morn."
CROW: He's riding the guy from Deep Space Nine?
> "Why, yes, I'm heading to see my younger brother and his wife," the
>minstrel said.
MIKE: [Minstrel] Though not necessarily in that order, if you know what
I mean...
> "I'm Sister Beverly, and this is my charge Clarrissa.
[All start to speak at once, then stop]
MIKE: Were we all about to do a "Clarissa Explains It All" riff?
TOM: Um, yeah, I was.
CROW: Me too.
MIKE: Right. Let's just retire that one and move on with our lives.
ALL: Agreed.
> We're also
>going that way, and wondered if we might accompany you."
CROW: [Minstrel] Well I *have* been needing a drummer and a bass player...
> "Certainly, honored sister. My name is Cedric.
TOM: [Cedric] I'll be meeting up with Bernie Mac and Steve Harvey later,
if that's okay.
> If you'll be kind
>enough to meet me after breakfast is served?"
MIKE: [Cedric] And bring plenty of cash - I can eat lotsa pancakes!
> Beverly nodded. "Then it's
>settled." Then he took up another song. "Here's a little song I used to
>play in my youth."
>
CROW: [solemn, minstrel-y,] Right about now, the funk soul brother...
> "The minstrel boy off to war has gone
MIKE: But he'll return your call as soon as he can. Please leave your
name, number and insipid lyrics after the beep.
> In the ranks of death you will find him
TOM: Oh, right, this is the second verse to the "Cheers" theme.
> His father's sword he hath girdith on,
ALL: [Monotone] And in the darkness bind him.
> His wild harp slung behind him
>
TOM: Somehow, I just don't see the words "wild" and "harp" as being
compatible.
CROW: Actually, free range harps are tastier and have less fat.
> "Land of song sang the warrior bard
CROW: o/` Shootin' out the walls of heartache... o/`
MIKE & TOM: o/` Bang, bang! o/`
> Though all the world betrays thee
TOM: [Cedric] o/` Like that little hussy Fiona, who ran off with my
so-called "best friend" Nigel! o/`
> One sword at least your rights shall guard
CROW: And one lance with speed your sticks!
> On faithful harp shall praise thee.
>
MIKE: Thank you! We love you, Castrome Cross! Rock on!
> The road was dusty, and the gait of the rinnebeast was really
>hurting Clara's rear.
TOM: Unfortunately, the locals had yet to develop pillow technology.
> For perhaps the hundredth time that day, Clara
>wished that she could have traded assignments with Marrissa.
TOM: She was sure she'd make just as cruel and ruthless a dictator.
> At least the
>journey from Arlipor to Castrome, and then to Castrome Cross
CROW: Is that anything like the Southern Cross?
TOM: Maybe. Desiree does kind of remind me of Dana Sterling.
> had been by
>coach.
TOM: And boy, were Steve Spurrier's arms tired!
MIKE: Good.
> Unfortunately the coach didn't go past Castrome Cross so here Clara
>was riding on a rinnebeast on a dusty, rutted road through the middle of
>nowhere.
CROW: MTV's getting really desperate for new "Road Rules" episodes.
TOM: It's what they get for canceling "Daria".
> Marrissa was the one with riding experience, she'd won the darned
>Belmont Stakes after all.
MIKE: Actually, I believe the horse won the race - she was just along for
the ride.
TOM: Kinda like us, huh?
MIKE: Yes, only with less wailing and gnashing of teeth.
> True rinnebeasts weren't horses, they were
>lizards who ran on their rear legs.
CROW: Mike, is Steve Tyler a rinnebeast?
MIKE: It's possible.
> How much further was this Capital City
TOM: o/` It's a long long wait while I'm sitting in committee... o/`
>and why the heck didn't it have a nice paved road with coaches running back
>and forth going to it?
TOM: The Craig T. Nelson Taxi service. For all your travel needs.
> "Pardon me, young lady, but you look as if you aren't having a good
>time," Cedric, the minstrel said.
TOM: [Clara, sarcastic] Oh, I'm *so* sorry! Shall I frolic and gambol to
keep you from feeling sad?!
> "I'm riding a beast I've barely ever rode before, in a dusty road,
>under the hot sun, and you think I should be having a good time?" Clara
>muttered.
CROW: Sure! What's not to like?
> "I know what you need," Cedric said. "We need a traveling song."
ALL: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
> A traveling song.
MIKE: Yes, as bad as an idea as it seemed, a traveling song.
> That brought horror stories to Clara's mind.
CROW: Endless Grateful Dead songs. Over and over and over...
>Shayna's rendition of "the Laughing Vulcan and his Dog," for instance had
>particular vivid memories of a near lynching. Then there had been that
>field trip.
CROW: And the ensuing wackiness, zaniness, and biochemical warfare.
> It had taken a week for her to get those darn Disney songs out
>of her mind.
>
MIKE: Oh, thanks you so bloody much, Steve.
CROW: o/` Tale as old as time... o/`
MIKE: Don't you start.
CROW: It's a perfectly good song.
TOM: So is o/` I'm saiiiling away... o/`
CROW: AIIIEEE!!! o/` Setanopencoursetothevirginsea o/`
MIKE: Thank you.
> There once was a boy from Verlie
TOM: Who drank thirty-four cups of iced tea.
CROW: He went up to bed
TOM: Didn't go to the head
Both: So he woke up all covered in pee!
MIKE: [shaking head] I am never telling you guys camp stories again.
> His mother a chambermaid
> His father was a stable hand
TOM: Ooooh, it's one of *those* songs!
> Loyal Servants they were
TOM: It doesn't even rhyme!
CROW: That's that 'New Poetry' crap for you.
> The same was expected of him
> But the young boy, dreams he had
>
MIKE: Mainly, they involved Leah Remini and a tub of maple syrup.
> Oh the sea, the beautiful sea,
TOM: o/` Oh the beautiful sea. You and me, you and me, oh how
happy we'll be! o/`
> So far away, adventure it seems
CROW: For I'm Robin Hood, and I'm very good/
At avoiding the sheriff's eye...
> Let the wind blow me away
MIKE: [Clara] Oh yes, *please*...
> and someday a hero I'll be.
>
CROW: Which kind - the noble, god-like, "Superman" kind, or the brooding,
butt-kicking "Batman" kind?
TOM: As long as it ain't the whiny, angst-ridden "Spider-Man" kind, I'm
all right either way.
> By the time they stopped for lunch, Clara had forgotten her
>gripes.
>
MIKE: And focused tightly on burying Cedric neck deep in rinnebeast scat...
TOM: [Clara] Okay, if we kill him now, and dump the body in those woods...
> The late afternoon sun shimmered across the deep blue waters of
>Sapphire Bay, highlighting the tops of the waves. The Stargazer had just
>arrived and was dropping anchor off shore.
CROW: Hey, wait, we need that -
TOM: *Splash!*
CROW: Oh, never mind.
> As it was Second Watch,
MIKE: NBC was almost ready to take a look at the pilot.
>Marrissa was standing in the bow of the ship. As the anchor dropped, she
>pulled out her telescope.
TOM: [Marrissa] Hey, I can like, totally see into some guy's bedroom!
> Extending it, she scanned the shore. She
>avoided the town and the saucer,
CROW: Not to mention the village and the butter knife.
> as she wanted a feel for the normal
>culture, not what ever changes this renegade Captain had made.
CROW: So that's, like, bear-baiting, watching people get hung, and
tossing garbage into the streets.
> Riding
>along the coast on towards town she spied a young man on a strange beast.
MIKE: Shaggy and Scooby had arrived to solve the mystery.
> It looked like a lizard of some sort, running on it's hind legs.
CROW: [Marrissa] Sleestaks! Cool!
>It's fore legs seemed almost useless. It was a golden yellow in color and
>had a head like some illustration of a dragon Marrissa had once seen.
CROW: Ooh! A Frazetta!
TOM: [Sean Connery] I *am* the lasht one!
>After a moment's thought, she remembered the animal in her briefing, a
>rinnebeast.
MIKE: And remember, buy your rinnebeast from Team Goeway Rinnebeast this
month and you could get the first five months' financing at ten
percent off! And be sure to say hi to the Save Money Bunny!
> As the beast ran, the rider's dark blue cloak with gold edging
>billowed out behind him.
CROW: Gainsborough's "Blue Boy with Sauropod".
> The sun glinted off the hilt of his sword, as it
>was revealed in the rippling wind.
TOM: [Marrissa] Well hey! Is that a banana in his pocket or is he just
glad to see me!
> The rider's cowl fell back, revealing
>his medium length blond hair.
CROW: AAAHHHH!!! It's a Backstreet Boy!!!!
[The Bots dive behind their seats]
MIKE: Get a grip, you two - it's just Prince Avery.
BOTS: Oh. [Crow & Tom return to their seats]
> Prince Avery pulled up his rinnebeast by the West shore gate to
>Odyssey Castle.
TOM: Taking advantage of the valet parking there.
> He was probably going to get a lecture from his father
>about his ride.
CROW: [Avery] Boy, he always gripes just cuz I bring the lizard back with
an empty tank!
> The Duchess of Castrome was due in any day, especially
>since the Duchess preferred sea travel, and he was expected to be there.
>He was hoping that this meant he could get his choice of bride.
MIKE: [Waiter reading specials] The bride tonight comes in your choice of
Sarah Michelle Gellar, Angelina Jolie, or Gillian Anderson.
CROW: I'll try one of each, please. Rowr!
> Never mind
>that he hadn't seen Hayley since she was five.
TOM: Never mind that that had just been last year.
> She was definitely his
>choice.
CROW: Okay, now this is just getting creepy!
MIKE: At least he waited this long.
> Avery just plain hated all the other proposed candidates.
MIKE: He was voting for Nader!
> And all
>this haggling and looking over by various ambassadors was making him feel
>like he was a rinnebeast at action.
TOM: Prince Avery *is* Agent Action!
> He got off his mount.
MIKE: Remember, don't exploit symbolism without warming up first.
> His father had a quainter and older expression for it. A piece of
>horse flesh.
TOM: A Big Mac?
> Horses were rare on this planet, none were currently in
>Ellosia.
MIKE: No one having made the connection that riding the horses and
immediately eating them might have something to do with that...
> The Patriarch claimed to have ridden one when he attended a
>Church Council in Ferigal.
CROW: Of course, he also claimed it talked about "Wilbur", so his reportage
wasn't exactly taken at face value.
> Avery thought that the Patriarch was becoming
>senile.
MIKE: Although it certainly *was* possible that giant ants were stealing
his morning coffee to give to the Tri-Lateral Commission.
> This was not an uncommon thought among the young nobles of
>Ellosia,
TOM: Boy, a Patriarch commits his people to dynastic war with the bunnies
*four* times, and he never hears the end of it.
> and to tell the truth, among the elders as well.
MIKE: The Deacons, too. The church board's going to vote on him next week.
> Avery's father
>said that such beasts were once preferred over rinnebeasts.
CROW: For their lack of taste for human flesh for one thing...
> Avery stroked
>the supple skin over the left eye of his rinnebeast, if his father said it,
>it probably was true. Though Avery couldn't see why.
CROW: Ratliff, whatever you've been taking, stop taking it.
TOM: And if you're not taking anything, maybe you should start.
> His personal mount
>may have not been one of the prize blue green calvary beasts of Fasstime
TOM: [Spicoli] All I need are some tasty waves, a cool rinnebeast, and
I'm fine.
>or like the dark gold special royal breeds (his own gold was considered too
>light in color)
MIKE: I imagine Threadfall will be coming soon.
> with their steady and precise gait, but he couldn't find
>anything wrong that would make some horse a preference.
CROW: You mean aside from the fact they're NOT GIANT FREAKING LIZARDS?!?
> The chamberlain met him
MIKE: Wilt the Stilt!
TOM: He had to scramble to get all 10,000 girls out of the castle before
the Prince got back!
> as he handed off his rinnebeast to the
>stable hand.
CROW: And Stablehand passes to Chamberlain, who lays it up for a truly
spectacular full-court basket!
> "Your highness, where have you been?" the thin man with white
>hair said, trembling.
TOM: [Avery] Just checking out the subplot!
> "Your father has been looking all over for you."
MIKE: [Chamberlain] He looked in the dining room, the parlor, the upstairs
maid's bedroom, everywhere.
CROW: [Chamberlain] Yeah, both he *and* the upstairs maid searched her
bedroom *very* thoroughly for fifteen whole minutes - she was so
distressed when they couldn't find you that she cried out several
times.
MIKE: You just *had* to take that too far, didn't you?
CROW: Of course!
> "I was out checking on the Dunstlay Fields," Avery said. "It was a
>nice five mile ride. Did you know that they are planting the new grain in
>them this year?"
CROW: [Chekov] Aaaah, qvadrotriticale!
> "I did not, but you father needs you," the chamberlain said.
MIKE: [Chamberlain] He's got a June bug cornered in the basement, and he
wants you to finish it off.
> "The
>Duchess's ship has just come in the harbor, and they are expecting her at
>the palace dock any minute.
TOM: [Chamberlain] Hurry! Put on your ape suit and help bury the castle!
> You've not time to change, so I guess your
>riding outfit will have to do. Hurry now."
>
CROW: So Marrissa saw all that dialogue through her telescope?
> Marrissa called out the cadence as she steered the Captain's gig
>toward the dock. "Stroke, Stroke."
MIKE: The crew responded " White Stripes! White Stripes!"
> The Duchess and her daughter were in
>the bow.
TOM: All tied up nice and neat. It was a really big package with a very
elaborate ribbon.
> Behind her, the ship's boat was taking Commander La Forge to the
>harbor to arrange shore lodgings and deliver the Duchess's luggage to her
>residence in town.
MIKE: [LaForge] *Ooof!* Geez, how many cases of Revlon does she need?!
TOM: From Chief Engineer to bellhop. Ratliff's really done a number on
poor Geordi, hasn't he?
CROW: Forget about poor Geordi, what about poor us?
> They moved toward the dock. "Raise oars, toss the rope
>ashore!" Marrissa ordered.
CROW: o/` Raise oars, toss the rope ashore, Hallelujah! o/`
> As protocol demanded,
TOM: [C-3P0] Protocol? Why, it's my primary function!
> Marrissa climbed off
>first,
MIKE: But *only* because protocol demanded. Definitely *not* because
Lieutenant Commander Saskatchewan back a few chapters was right.
> to help the Duchess and her daughter off.
MIKE: [Marrissa] No, no, the *other* side, the *other* -
TOM: *SPLASH!*
MIKE: [Marrissa] Well, you're the royalty.
> "Thank you, Lieutenant," the Duchess said, as she climbed out.
>Marrissa made to return to the boat and the ship, but the Duchess stopped
>her.
CROW: [Duchess] We've rented you for the whole afternoon, Marrissa.
> "If you don't mind, I'd like to introduce you to the King, since your
>Captain and First Mate were not able to come."
TOM: [Marrissa, quickly] Oh I couldn't possibly well all right let's go say
is this guy married or what.
> "I'm sorry for causing that problem, your grace," Marrissa said.
>"I should have been more careful, and not knocked the Captain off the back
>of the ship."
CROW: [Marrissa] We probably should've gone back and found him or something.
MIKE: It *was* an accident, mind you, and not her bumping off the grownups
and taking charge by reflex.
> "There was no harm done," the Duchess said.
TOM: [Duchess] We're lucky Triton took pity and turned the Captain into
a merman and master of the oceans. We can only hope his courting
of Scylla goes well.
> "The Captain can
>probably get an appointment with the King any day, as he's known to make
>time to talk to the Captains of his merchant ships.
CROW: Aw, no - if the King and Picard agree to swap places for the day, I'm
outta here.
> The King has often
>remarked that his best information on this island nation about other
>countries comes that way.
TOM: Obviously, he hasn't checked out www.islandnationnews.org yet.
> However, it's not every day that a third mate
>gets to meet the King, and it's not every day that the King gets to meet a
>female third mate.
>
MIKE: Much less the first female third mate to switch-hit over thirty home
runs in a season in both leagues.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family"
>
TOM: Well, there's one good thing I can say about this segment.
MIKE: What's that?
TOM: It's over.
>From stephenratliff@crosswinds.net Tue Jan 01 00:28:47 2002
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 4/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
>Date: Tue, 01 Jan 2002 06:28:47 GMT
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
MIKE: I prefer the term 'Perpetrator', myself.
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 4/16 Serialized Weekly
>Rating:
MIKE: Negative twenty on a one to ten scale.
> [PG]
>Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain
>who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: Cambodia.
>Chapter Three: Life in Odyssey
>
CROW: Starring... Jean-Luc Picard as Danny Thomas!
MIKE: Beverly Crusher as Ann Southern!
CROW: Will Riker as Danny Thomas!
TOM: Marrissa Picard as Shelly Fabares!
MIKE: Geordi LaForge as Danny Thomas!
TOM: Clarissa Sutter as Joyce Randolph!
CROW: And, of course, Data, as Danny Thomas!
> Marrissa met her father and the Stargazer's Command Crew at the
>Golden Rinnebeast Inn. It was a quant Inn in Marrissa's opinion.
CROW: A quantum inn?
TOM: Any minute now, Archer's gonna leap into Picard and mutter "Oh Boy".
> It was of what Marrissa would term a Tudor style,
CROW: Speaking of which, I just let out a little Tudor.
MIKE: [Sniffs] Man! Crow, did you have scrambled eggs and red beans for
breakfast again?
CROW: I like how they taste together!
> thick dark beams
>with panels of white mud plaster
MIKE: o/` Knights in white mud plaster! o/`
> composing the wall. Someone had gotten
>creative along the beam above the door, carving a dragon in relief.
CROW: Oh! A dragon! What a relief!
> She
>stepped though the door, just as the afternoon rain began in earnest.
CROW: Jim Varney stars in "Star Trek XII: Ernest in Space"!
MIKE: [Ernest] KnowhuddImean, Cap'n Vern?
> The Innkeeper's wife noticed Marrissa's outfit and the badge she
>wore on her shoulder
TOM: [Wife] Hmm, I wonder what that big red letter "A" means?
> "You would be the Third Mate I was told to expect?"
>she asked.
MIKE: [Imitates shotgun being cocked]
> "Lieutenant Marrissa Picard at your service," Marrissa said.
TOM: [Marrissa] Avoid the rush. Surrender to me now.
CROW: Hey, if this is all vaguely medieval setting, shouldn't they spell
those s's so they look like f's?
MIKE: Yeah, so she'd be Marriffa Picard.
CROW: Carry on, Marriffa!
> "Your First Mate purchased your own room for you, it's the second
>one on the left on the third floor," the Innkeeper's wife said.
MIKE: Third one on the right for the fourth floor.
CROW: Two rights, then the third room on the left.
TOM: Up, left, down one room, right, up again.
> "He wanted
>to see you as soon as you arrived. He's on the second floor, first door on
>the left."
TOM: [Innkeeper's Wife] Or was it the first floor- oh forget it!
> "Thank you," Marrissa said. "May I inquire as to when dinner is
>served?"
CROW: [hostess] About twenty minutes after I check the traps.
> "When the church bell chimes six," the Innkeeper's wife said. "It's
>an extra two pence."
CROW: Fourth down on your left.
> "I shall be there," Marrissa said,
MIKE: [Marrissa] Or I shall be square!
> before heading up the stairs.
>
CROW: Readers - don't reveal the outcome of the gripping "Check-In and
Dinnertime" scene to your friends!
> Marrissa opened the door to Commander Riker's quarters. "Reporting
>as ordered, sir," she said.
TOM: [Marrissa] What's with the candles?
CROW: [Riker] Just trying to blend in with the natives. C'mere, kid...
TOM: [Marrissa] Is that Barry White?
> "Lieutenant, you have some explaining to do," Riker said.
TOM: [Riker] How come Data gets better billing than me?
MIKE: [ditto] Why did they make me shave my beard after First Contact?
CROW: [tritto] Scott *Bakula?*
> "You do
>not under push anyone overboard at any time,
MIKE: Not even if it's Bernie Kopell!
> and most especially the
>Captain."
CROW: [Riker] When he dies, it shall be by my hand!
> "But if the..." Marrissa began.
> "I'm not asking for your excuses, Lieutenant," Riker continued.
TOM: [Marrissa] You're not? Darn! 'Cause I had this really good one
about a Ferengi and a couple of Vulcans and a can of cheez spread!
>"We did not have to include you on this mission,
TOM: Come to think of it, why WAS she included on this mission? They
could've gone without her.
MIKE: And have this be a *normal* Star Trek fanfic?
CROW: Isn't that sort of a contradiction in terms?
> and if you hadn't already made
>yourself too well known, you would be on your way back to the Enterprise.
CROW: Yeah I'd hate if they sent me back to all those 24th century comforts
instead of keeping me in the land of the medieval lizard riders.
>If you ever do something like that again, you will be confined aboard the
>Stargazer for the rest of the mission, and we will be having another talk
>about this when we return.
MIKE: [Riker] You don't get the other half until you finish whacking old
Cueball! Remember that!
> Do I make myself perfectly clear, Lieutenant?"
TOM: After using new All-Purpose Windex (tm)? You bet!
> "Yes sir!" Marrissa said. "Will that be all sir?"
MIKE: [Riker] Not just yet. Do you think I'd be good as the lead actor
for a remake of "Big Top Pee-Wee"? Tell me honestly.
> "For now, Lieutenant," Riker said. "The Captain will met us at
>dinner. Dismissed."
CROW: [Riker] And try not to become royalty this time!
> Marrissa turned smartly and
TOM: ...Smacked face first into the wall.
MIKE: [Riker] Umm... The door's over there, Marrissa.
> moved quickly out of the room. It was
>not until she got to the room that she was assigned that she broke down in
>tears.
>
CROW: [Marrissa] Dangit, he got me a room without HBO!! How could he?!
TOM: She aches just like a women, but breaks just like a little girl.
> The dinner was rather somber.
MIKE: [Somberly] Would you like to try our Pizza Feast-a Wackyzilla Super
Sampler Platter tonight?
> The main course was a thin bread
>pocket with a meat and vegetable filling.
MIKE: Ah, Ye Olde Hotte Pockettes.
TOM: Could've been worse. Economy service was uncooked fish sticks.
> It was served hot, with plenty of
>ale to drink. Marrissa asked for milk instead of the ale, and got some for
>a little more money.
CROW: Free Booze with every meal! Nourishing drinks slightly extra.
> She ate her meal slowly, avoiding looking at anyone.
TOM: But remembering to chew twenty times before swallowing.
>Riker and Calgary were seated across from her, and every time she looked at
>Calgary,
MIKE: ...that blob of mustard on his chin made her burst out giggling.
> his sneering expression made her feel like she was a failure.
TOM: Playing the part of Lieutenant Calgary - Draco Malfoy!
>Oh, she knew her reasoning was good. Captain York knew her father.
CROW: [Mr. B] Knew your father, I did!
> If they
>came into contact too early, the mission could fail.
MIKE: You know, you'd think the captain would let Riker in on unimportant
little details like that.
> That's why she had
>pushed her father overboard.
TOM: Plus, after a month at sea, he needed a good bath.
> He couldn't go meet the King all wet.
MIKE: Wouldn't it have been easier if Marrissa simply *told* Picard rather
than unexpectedly pushed him off.
CROW: Admit it, Marrissa, you always wanted to do that to him.
> But
>Riker wouldn't listen,
CROW: And why should he have?
MIKE: [Vince McMahon] Because I'm Marrissa Amber Flores Picard, dammit!
> and Calgary, well Calgary was basking in the joy of a
>man who thinks he's just been proved right.
TOM: Man! I know that feeling! Right, losers?
MIKE: Yeah, well I don't care what Trivial Pursuit says, the capital of
Florida *should* be Miami is all I have to say.
> Captain Picard arrived in the Inn's dinning area. The Captain sat
>down next to Marrissa, sliding his chair closer with a scraping sound.
CROW: That's just his soul shredding again. Pay it no mind.
>"Ah, Missus Bath, I could I trouble you for a helping of your famous meat
>pie?" he said.
CROW: That is the weirdest pickup line I've ever heard!
MIKE: [The Rock] The Picard likes... Pie!
> "Here you go," the Innkeeper's wife replied, placing a plateful in
>front of him, along with a cup of ale.
MIKE: Thursdays, wet bald captains drink free.
> "Enjoy your meal, Captain."
TOM: [Generic foreign accent] May I tell you something? May I tell you
something? Enjoy your meal! Hee-HEE!
> The Innkeeper's wife left the room to tend to other duties as the
>Captain dug into his meal. It took only a few moments for the Captain to
>figure out the mood of the room.
CROW: Gee, and he managed it without Little Miss "I sense great danger".
> "Mister Calgary, I've been meaning to talk
>to since before we left the ship," the Captain said.
MIKE: [Picard] Tell me, have you ever heard of a thing called "Amway"?
> "I understand you have
>some problems working with my daughter."
TOM: [Picard] What the hell's wrong with you Canadians, anyway?
MIKE: That's right, Tom, stoke the fire... I just hope they never get
nuclear capacity.
> Marrissa looked up at Calgary and then at her father.
TOM: She wondered which of them to kill first.
> This was not
>what she expected to hear when her father arrived.
MIKE: She'd been waiting for the drunken belches and the non-stop cussing.
> However, Calgary still
>had that smug expression on his face that had depressed Marrissa.
CROW: The part of Calgary will be played by Pernell Roberts.
MIKE: [Pernell] My job. My way.
> "I find her qualifications lacking," Calgary stated.
TOM: [Darth Vader] I find her lack of qualifications disturbing.
> "I see, and have you always had this problem respecting superior
>officers?" Picard said in an even tone.
CROW: Fwah...? "Superior"? They're both lieutenants, for pity's sake!
MIKE: Yeah, but Marrissa the Superior lieutenant, just cuz she's Marrissa.
Crow. Oh. Yeah.
> Calgary's expression blanked. The color drained from his face.
TOM: [Marrissa, thinking] The poison's kicked in! Excellent!
>There was only one reply that he could make to that question. "I respect
>all of my superior officers," he stammered.
CROW: [Calgary] Except for you, ya Limey frog Bastard! I mean - D'OH!!!!
> "See that you do," Picard said. "You'll probably have to work with
>Marrissa a lot during this mission, and I don't want any problem from
>either of you."
MIKE: [Picard] Is that understood? Any more bickering and I will turn this
ship *right* around and head home.
BOTS: Yes, Mom.
> "Yes sir," Marrissa and Calgary responded in unison.
TOM: [Marrissa] Well done, my pet.
CROW: [Picard] As you command, Dark One.
> "Now, Marrissa, tell me about your visit to the Palace," Picard
>asked.
TOM: [Marrissa] I signed a contract to do two shows nightly, and I'm
opening for Tony Bennett starting next week.
> "Not much to say, sir," Marrissa replied.
CROW: They closed the little teacups ride.
> "I brought the Duchess
>and her daughter to the royal dock and let her off.
MIKE: [Marrissa] We probably should've let her off on the side facing the
dock, but hey, live and learn.
> The King and his son
>met us there, and asked a few questions."
CROW: Then they advanced to the lightning round, where the value of the
questions is doubled.
> "What did he ask about?" Riker asked.
MIKE: [Marrissa] He wanted to know how the Vikings did.
> "How long our trip was, and if we encountered any problems,"
>Marrissa said.
TOM: [Marrissa] Also what the ending of "Seinfeld" was. They're really
behind on this planet.
> "Fairly standard stuff. He seemed rather keen on if we had
>encountered any Rogian ships, which we haven't."
TOM: I bet Picard's busy looking for Rogain ships, too!
CROW: He's not only the captain - he's also a client.
> "Marrissa, describe the King and the rest of the welcoming party,"
>Picard said, as he scraped his plate clean.
[All groan]
CROW: That's it, Jean-Luc - just give her an excuse to make up another
long, pointless list!
> "The king appears to be an aged man,
MIKE: [Connoisseur] Oh, an 1845 Monarch. A *very* good year for kings.
> with a well kept white beard.
TOM: Cameron Mitchell in a role so rare it will give you E. Coli!
>His clothing was a long purple robe, with gold stitching to make it look
>more formal.
CROW: [Austin Powers] And that's all he wore, too! Groovy, baby, ye-heah!
> He wears a rather simple crown.
MIKE: [Marrissa] It says he's the king of someplace called "Burger".
> His son is sixteen according
>to Lady Hayley.
TOM: [Marrissa] He keeps saying he's "going to be seventeen", though.
It's so annoying.
> He was wearing a dark blue tunic with black pants, and dark
>blue cloak.
MIKE: We believe him to be on "Miami Vice".
> He was accompanied by several soldiers dressed in the royal
>crest
CROW: Recommended by 4 out of 5 Kings who have their lackeys brush their
teeth for them.
> and a stout man with a red beard dressed entirely in black.
TOM: Wait a minute... Stout, red beard, dressed in black... My God! It's
Yukon Cornelius!
> The stout
>man was never introduced, but he was constantly looking around and
>examining things intently."
MIKE: Will all this be on the test?
> "That does sound like a good description of Chief Harlan, the
>Odyssey's Security Chief," Picard said. "Was the Queen there?"
CROW: RuPaul?
> "No, the King apologized for her absence, she's apparently ill,"
>Marrissa said.
TOM: The illness set in shortly after the King had her beheaded.
> "Okay, the Doctor and her party should be coming into town some time
>tomorrow," Picard said. "I'll be meeting her in the market.
MIKE: [Picard] In the cereal aisle, over next to the Count Chocula.
> Meanwhile,
>Commander Riker, I want you to see what you can learn from other seamen in
>the local bars.
[Silence]
MIKE: Whatever you're thinking, fellas - don't.
TOM: Don't look at me - I'm too scared of that sentence to even breathe.
CROW: You're a bot, Servo - you don't *have* to breathe!
TOM: Oh. *Wheeew!* [pause] Heeeeey...
> Marrissa, Lieutenant Calgary, pair up and investigate the
>town.
TOM: Five bucks says Edmonton "accidentally" falls off a building.
MIKE: Calgary.
TOM: Whatever.
> I want to know any technological improvements you may find.
CROW: [Picard] Specifically if they have DSL.
> Remember
>this is supposed to be a fourteenth century level planet.
MIKE: [Picard] If you see someone who's bathed and not infested with lice,
be suspicious.
> Set up some other
>teams, Security and Engineering pairings, to help you.
TOM: What? A Starfleet crew just up and taking over a planet isn't enough
to take them in?
> La Forge will remain
>on the Stargazer and observe the seaside comings and goings from the Castle.
CROW: Once again, the crappiest possible job is reserved for Commander Load.
>Any questions?"
TOM: Is Bob Barker as nice in person as he seems on TV?
> After a moments pause, he pushed back his chair. "Then I
>suggest we all get a good night's sleep."
>
MIKE: Well, that wasted a good half-page.
> Prince Avery entered the bedroom of his ailing mother. It pained
>him to see the once active Queen laying in her bed, coughing.
CROW: So he left.
> Last year she
>would have accompanied Avery on his ride, on her own deep gold rinnebeast,
>with her long gray curly hair streaming behind her.
MIKE: Her lizard has long curly hair?
> It had been a month
>since she had even seen outside, except through the large window in her
>room, but that was practically a sky light, for all the view it offered.
TOM: It's only good for making sure the place retains no heat whatsoever.
> "Good evening, honored mother, may I hope that you are getting
>better?" Avery inquired,
MIKE: I bet she spends the whole time complaining how he never comes to
visit her.
> coming to kneel next to his mother's bedside, and
>taking her hand in his.
> "Avery, I'm not going to get better," the Queen said. "I'm dying."
TOM: Well, sure, with *this* act!
> "Surely the Odyssey has something to make you better," Avery said.
CROW: [Queen] Yep. Just hand me that bottle of booze from 10-Forward
and I'll be a-a-a-all better in no time!
>"You said that this was a ship from the heavens. Such a ship would have to
>have miracle cures."
MIKE: Not only that, it has this miracle cleaner that harnesses the pure
natural power of orange oil!
> "Avery, we took apart everything that we could that didn't fit," the
>Queen said.
TOM: [Queen] I had to tear up my Comic Book collection.
> "Even if there was something that could cure me, it hasn't been
>in this castle for over fifteen years."
MIKE: That's a long time to be out of Tylenol Plus.
> "Why did you do that?" Avery said. "You could have done lots of
>good with all of that."
CROW: Billions of credits put into their ship and their training, and it
turns out they're just too dumb to use it.
> "Because it wouldn't have been right," the Queen rasped.
MIKE: It's Queen Donna Corleone.
CROW: [Brando] I spent my whole life trying not to be careless. Dukes and
princes can be careless. But not queens.
> "Why?"
> "Ask you father about the Prime Directive," the Queen said.
[All laugh]
CROW: So King Whatsit has no problem with seizing power from the local
hicks, but won't lift a finger to cure wifey's consumption?!?
MIKE: Sounds like he's got his royal eye on Her Grace, Princess Sandee.
>Now let me rest. I want to be able to last to at least your betrothal."
> "You mean they've decided who I get to marry?" Avery said.
> "Your father has," the Queen replied, settling down to rest.
CROW: [Avery] So what's she like?
TOM: [Queen] Well, she's - uh - she has a very nice personality.
CROW: [Avery] AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOT THAT!!!!
> Avery left the room with much on his mind. What was this Prime
>Directive?
TOM: It's the fantastic elastic plot point that can do anything you need.
It's brassy, it's sassy, it gets you into or out of a story faster
even than random explosions. It encourages cheap, false drama and
gets you out of real conflict. *Now* how much would you pay for
the Prime Directive?
> Why did was it preventing his mother from getting well?
MIKE: Why did was that sentence not make a whole lot of sense?
>And more importantly, who would he get to marry?
CROW: And back to the sex again.
TOM: So Avery can't go for more than five minutes without thinking
about sex?
MIKE: He'd have thought about it sooner, but his Mom was in the room.
> Oh he hoped it would
>be Lady Hayley. She was so cute. In fact she was beautiful.
>
CROW: [Avery] Too bad about mom wasting away and dying painfully like that.
Oh well. Boy, I hope they hook me up with a hottie!
MIKE: Well, at least he's not wallowing in his grief.
> An hour latter, Prince Avery wandered into the place garden.
TOM: He'd tried the person orchard and the thing grove, but it just
wasn't the same.
>It was one of the few areas open to the sky in the palace.
TOM: The sky's been banned from most other places for security reasons.
> He wandered among
>the roses and rare flowers, occasionally stopping to smell a few, as his
>tutor had suggested when he was small.
CROW: *Sniff* ... oh, no, this flower smells of poi...sonnnnn...nnned....
> The prince hadn't been in the garden
>long when he heard the voice of his father speaking to Lord Harlan.
MIKE: [King] We gotta change the Script to "City on the Edge of Forever".
TOM: [Harlan] No way, man!
> "So you can't confirm what her Grace told us," the King said.
MIKE: Princess Grace?
TOM: Peyton Place?
CROW: Trouble in the Suez?
> "No, sir. I have found no evidence of a plot yet," Harlan said.
MIKE: Why do you mock us so, Ratliff?
CROW: I prefer to think of it as his inner conscience, rebelling
against all the terrible stories he's produced.
>"That does not mean there isn't one, though."
CROW: [King] I just know the Underwear Gnomes are conspiring against me!
> "Such a plot does make sense," the King said.
TOM: Glinn Gusat said it did.
> "Lady Hayley is heir
>to both Castrome and Avtra. Whoever marries her will be the most powerful
>man in the Kingdom,
MIKE: [King] And no, I'm not counting John Ashcroft.
> especially if he comes from either of the other
>dukedoms."
CROW: At least until the people find out "Castrome" and "Avtra" are just a
motor oil and a cheap brand of TVs, anyway.
> "That's why I advised against your matching Desiree, Duchess of
>Castrome
MIKE: And Queen of the Desert.
> with Lord Elden of Avtra," Harlan said.
CROW: Huh? Murphy Brown's house painter is nobility?
> "I know, but it solved the problem," the King replied.
TOM: Which was...?
MIKE: It's giving us exposition under the guise of a conversation,
and that's all it needs to do.
> "It gave
>Desiree a chance to rule.
TOM: She had to be fast, she had to be strong, she had to be wiser.
> The Duke of Avtra withdrew his objections, and
>the regency council solved the rest."
CROW: [King] Now, let's get back to tearing up the Treaty of Westphalia and
return to serious religious faith-promoting warfare.
> "You could have solved it without uniting the lineage of two of the
>ducal lines," Harlan said.
MIKE: But they were from the same ducal line.
TOM: Oh, right. Hey, how's their new baby?
MIKE: He's a radish with teeth and hair.
TOM: Excellent.
> "Perhaps," the King replied. "But look at what I've gained.
TOM: [King] A hotel! On Park Place, no less!
>Lord Elden has turned into an able and loyal administrator for the crown.
CROW: [King] And Optimus Prime has turned into an 18-wheeler.
>Duchess Desiree is the much beloved ruler of Castrome, who also feels
>indebted to the crown.
MIKE: She owes the king thirty large.
> The kingdom has remained a peace,
TOM: You want a peace?!! Huh? Huh?! HUH?!!
> and everyone
>praises my leadership abilities."
MIKE: [King] Plus, I've become quite adept at backstory narration.
> "They think you are some sort of saint come down from heaven,"
>Harlan said.
CROW: Yeah, Saint Garth of Izar - patron saint of clutching, cruddy
megalomaniacal Starfleet captains.
> "And what about that problem when Drake, Earl of Avtra was
>murdered seven years ago?"
MIKE: [King] Hey, I had an alibi. I was golfing! In Chicago! I cut my
own hand in the hotel room! Really!
> "That had no relation to the Castrome problem," the King said. "It
>was because Drake couldn't keep his hands of the Earl of Dunsen's four
>lovely daughters.
TOM: Hey, who can?
> I had hoped that that saint idea would die down over time."
MIKE: Well, it's kinda lost its appeal in New Orleans, but otherwise...
> "Forget about that idea," Harlan said. "The common people have
>spoken.
TOM: Which explains why "Survivor" is still on the air.
> Even if you die a normal death, or even are killed in battle,
>someone, sometime, is going to claim you never died, and were assumed into
>heaven.
MIKE: Or you'll be spotted scarfing down Big Macs at the Avtra Mickey D's.
> Your grave location will be lost, and before long they'll be
>telling tales of Good King Richard."
MIKE: Hey, that reminds me of a story I wrote on spec about -
TOM: Mike, if you pull that old "Good Will Hunting" gag one more time...
MIKE: Okay, okay, it's just a joke!
CROW: And it's been the *same* joke for the last 4 years!
> "That, my old friend, is my nightmare," the King said.
CROW: The last thing a King wants is to be beloved and well-remembered
and longed for by his people for centuries after his passing.
TOM: Maybe he should start a reign of arbitrary terror.
> "Come,
>Avery, you don't need to hide in the bushes, my son."
MIKE: Jeb and Neil can no longer shield him from prosecution.
> Avery approached his father and his father's advisor. "I'm sorry if
>my presence interrupted something, father."
MIKE: [King] Well, ya been doin' it for 16 years, kid - don't start
apologizing for it now!
> "No, it didn't, at least nothing I didn't want your opinion on," the
>King said.
CROW: Mike, my parsing subroutine is throwing a Quadrupal Negative Error.
TOM: Same here, buddy. Just click "Ignore" and move on.
> "My opinion?"
CROW: [King] Does this cape go with these pants? They don't look right for
some reason.
> "Yes, Avery. Someday you will be King,
TOM: [Mufasa] And all of the Pride Lands will be yours.
> and it's problems like the
>ones I've been discussing with Lord Harlan that you'll have to solve. Now
>how much did you hear?"
MIKE: [Samwise Gamgee] Something about - the end of the world.
> "Just some discussion about some sort of plot involving Lady Hayley
>and then how you're perceived among the people."
CROW: Latest New York Times/Gallup poll has you up a quarter-point in the
flash overnight phone bank surveys, if that helps.
> "Lord Harlan, perhaps you'd like to brief my son on what the Duchess
>of Castrome informed us."
TOM: So this is a medieval spin session?
CROW: I guess.
> "Of course, sir. My prince, this afternoon Duchess Desiree of
>Castrome arrived by sea and asked to see the King.
MIKE: I hope this won't become one of those Imzadi love triangles.
> When she was able to get
>alone with the King and his chief advisors,
CROW: [Harlan] She showed them why she was once known as the "Queen of
the Cake-Jumpers"!
> she informed us that her
>husband, Lord Elden,
TOM: Of the famed marbles.
> had been approached by Lord Henry of Fasstime.
TOM: [Spicoli] No shirt, no shoes, no duke!
MIKE: Learn it, know it, live it.
> Lord
>Henry proposed that he marry Lady Hayley and insinuated that such a move
>could result in 'a shift in the leadership of the Kingdom.'
MIKE: Specifically, about 4 feet to the right.
> He was no doubt
>unaware of Lord Elden's involvement in the ruling of Castrome, and position
>as Chief Naval Architect for the Royal Navy.
CROW: Oh, that's good planning. I would've made him Chief Naval Architect
for the Department of Motor Vehicles or something silly.
> Lord Elden wisely said that he
>would think about it. He then talked to his wife, the Duchess, who set off
>immediately for Odyssey along with her oldest daughter."
TOM: And now we're all here. Which begs the question, "SO WHAT?!?"
CROW: Was there a flowchart attached to this thing? I'm feeling a little
lost.
> "What is Lord Elden doing now?" Avery asked.
MIKE: [Harlan] He's muttering to himself and fondling an ax. We put him
on a bus and are trying not to think about him.
> "He's taking care of the daily business of Castrome in his wife's
>absence,
CROW: He's the man of the castle, so long as the missus isn't around.
> and has contacted the Earl of Avtra to see if he's been approached
>as well."
MIKE: He's also checking on some virus warning someone sent him over e-mail.
> "That takes care of Avtra and Castrome, but what about Armedge?"
>Avery asked. "Has anyone found out if someone has approached either Duke
>Nolan or any of his three sons?"
TOM: Is Uncle Charlie in on the plan?
> "Good point, your highness, I'll check that as soon as we're done,"
>Harlan said.
MIKE: [Harlan] Lemme get my day-planner. Sorry, batteries are low on my
Palm Pilot.
> "And shouldn't Duke Lionel be informed about his son's ambitions?"
>Avery asked.
CROW: Nah, he's too busy playing with his toy trains.
> "Not at this stage, the Duke will want proof,
MIKE: 90 proof.
> and we don't have it
>yet," Harlan replied.
TOM: [Harlan] We have to wait until it's too late to do anything about it.
> "It does bring up another worrying point, though. We
>haven't heard from Duke Lionel in over a month.
CROW: [Harlan] And now that you mention it, all his letters keep coming back
signed "Lord Hen- I mean Duke Lionel".
> He usually sends weekly
>letters to the King, and the last one was rather short."
TOM: [Harlan] It just said "Dear King" and the rest of it was blank.
> "Still worried about the handwriting on that last sentence?" the
>King asked.
MIKE: Ow!
CROW: What is it?
MIKE: I just got a blinding flash of the obvious.
> "I am," Harlan replied.
TOM: [Harlan] Plus, we still don't know what that "All Your Base" line of
his meant.
> "I'm beginning to see your paranoia may be justified in this case,"
>the King said.
CROW: [King] Hmm, we haven't heard from Duke Lionel in months and his last
letter contains strange handwriting. Oh well! I'm not worried.
> "So, Avery, what would you do in my case?"
MIKE: [Avery] Crash my ship into a backward yahoo planet and take it over.
CROW: [King] *sniff* My son, today you are a man!
> "I'd marry Lady Hayley, taking her off the marriage market," Avery
>said.
ALL: Of course.
CROW: That's his solution for everything, including high humidity.
MIKE: I'm sorry, but the marriage market is fresh out of Lady Hayley. But
there's still plenty of Marrissa and Clara to go around!
> "Then I'd see if I can get Lord Henry to make a mistake that reveals
>his plot, and send him into exile."
CROW: So, his brilliant plan is to wait for somebody to blurt something out?
> "Well, I can't marry Lady Hayley, but you can and I will have her
>marry you," the King said.
TOM: Ah, sweet romance!
MIKE: Wish I could've gotten a sweet deal like that when I was his age.
CROW: Missed out on the bubblehead of your dreams, did you?
MIKE: Yeah... She ran off with the captain of the wrestling team. Last
time I saw her, her shift at Taco Hell had just ended.
TOM: [Pause] Your high school years were just one big ball o' suck,
weren't they?
MIKE: *sigh!* Pretty much...
> "I'll arrange for the betrothal early tomorrow.
>Lord Harlan, I want all my dukes in town by the end of the month,
CROW: [King] Even Coy and Vance.
> Lord Henry
>and Earl Cedric too."
MIKE: Wait a second, wasn't the minstrel's name Cedric too?
TOM: I think we just deduced a major plotline.
> "Very well, sire," Harlan said. "Is there anything else tonight?"
TOM: [King] Well, is "Two Towers" out on video yet?
CROW: [Harlan] Only in bootleg, sir.
TOM: [King] To the Bootleggery!
> "No, Harlan," the King said. "I'll see you early tomorrow." Lord
>Harlan rushed off to see to his tasks and the King turned to his son.
MIKE: [King] Son, don't ever loan that man any money.
> Avery had a big smile on his face.
TOM: Dude! You're gettin' a Dell!
> "I can't believe it," Avery whispered, sitting down on a bench.
> "You can't believe what?" the King said, sitting next to him.
MIKE: That it's not butter.
> "I got my choice for a bride," Avery said.
CROW: See, you gotta get to the Marriage Market early, so all the best
brides aren't taken.
> "All the times my tutors
>said that I wasn't going to get a chance to chose my bride, and I got the
>one I wanted."
[All hum "When You Wish Upon a Star"]
> "Only because it was a good move politically, Avery," the King said.
>"You are lucky in that respect. Your children probably won't be."
MIKE: Well, you could establish a constitutional democracy, and remove that
silly problem, but hey, if you'd prefer to hang onto outdated forms of
political systems...
> "And you listened to me about something important," Avery said.
>"I've never really been asked my opinion before. It was always do this."
CROW: [Avery] It's like I can form my own crew now! All made up of kids!
MIKE: [King] That's just crazy talk, boy!
> "Get use to it," the King said. "It's time you get some real
>experience.
TOM: [King] Because all the enemies are the same level as you.
> Until now, I've been just having you taught the things you need
>to know.
CROW: Tomorrow, we'll stop teaching you what you need to know and teach you
drivel and boilerplate instead.
> I should have brought you into my council before now, but I guess
>I didn't realize how grown up you are.
MIKE: [King] So what are you now? Sixteen? Seventeen? Sorry I haven't been
around much these day. You need some money?
TOM: Stephen Ratliff: We know drama. Well, we'd know it if we saw it.
> Starting tomorrow morning I want you
>at every morning meeting of my advisors."
MIKE: [King] We need to start building your tolerance to ass-kissing.
> "I guess that means I can't sleep in anymore," Avery said.
CROW: Sure you can! The advisors do it all the time!
TOM: This kid is Grade A leadership material.
> "You guessed right," the King said.
TOM: [Avery] What about my lessons where Merlin turns me into a squirrel
or a fish or whatever and I go running around and get into trouble,
and he bails me out?
CROW: [King] Oh, those will continue. You'll just have to turn into a
squirrel in the afternoons.
> "Father, what is the Prime Directive?" Avery asked.
TOM: [King] A plot device beyond all our understanding, son.
> "Who mentioned it?"
TOM: He just did, weren't you listening?
> "Mother did."
CROW: [King] Has she been skipping her little green pills again?
> "Come with me, Avery," the King said, standing up. "Today is
>apparently a big day for you."
>
MIKE: This is just like "Dune", except I haven't got a clue what's
going on.
TOM: In other words, it's just like "Dune".
> The King and his son climbed the long spiral staircase to the top
>of Odyssey Palace.
MIKE: [King] "Get the elevator," she said. "What for? We'll never use
it," I said. "Besides, the walking will do us good," I said...
I'm such a sack of doorknobs.
> It was seven levels from the garden to the top of the
>staircase.
CROW: ["Impossible Mission" villain] Stay awhile. Stay FOREVER!
> Avery expected them stop at each level, but his father pressed
>onto the top,
TOM: If they don't stop before they reach 25, they'll fall off the cliff
and lose that fabulous new car. But they'll be back for the Showcase
Showdown either way.
> pausing only to make sure the doors were closed properly.
MIKE: Because they weren't trying to heat the whole outdoors, for Pete's
sake.
>Finally, they reached the top.
CROW: [Avery] You okay, dad?
TOM: [Richard] *WHEEZE* *WHEEZE* Just - just *GASP! fine, son. Fit
*ACCCCK* as a fiddle. *WHEEEEEEEEEEEZE!*
> The King pulled a key out from under his
>outer tunic and opened the door. Avery had never been to the top room.
TOM: [Avery] Dad? Why does this door say "Killfloor"?
> They entered the large domed room.
MIKE: It was an exact replica of the Montana state capital building.
> The room had inclined desks
>running around most of it's walls,
TOM: Man, they must be tough to work at.
MIKE: Still, saves on floor space I guess.
> save two doors and a large floor to
>ceiling map of the world.
CROW: They've broken into an architecture school!
> The center of the room was a step down,
TOM: Well, be fair - after living in the royal palace, *any* place else
is bound to feel like a step down.
> and had
>railings around it, broken by four openings.
MIKE: So it's a ticket line, then?
> Towards the front of the room
>was a table with a scale terrain model of Ellosia.
CROW: Little orange flags marked the location of each and every Ellosian
Howard Johnson's.
> While there were several
>chairs at the desks along the walls, only two were in the center.
MIKE: The chairs are enjoying a rousing game of duck-duck-goose.
> One was
>on a raised platform, his father's, Avery assumed, and the other beside it,
>with a small slanted desk on it's right side.
TOM: This was known as "The Chair of Shame".
> "This, Avery, is known as the Map Room," the King said.
CROW: [King] Before we put the map here, we called it the "No Map" room.
> "It's were
>most of the details about running the kingdom are made.
MIKE: Right. This room and the Ye Olde Not a Despotic Starshippe Captain
Bar and Tavern.
> Very few actually
>are invited to it.
TOM: The Map Room is more exclusive than Studio 54.
> When this was a ship flying in the heavens, it was my
>Bridge.
CROW: [King] I bought it from this guy in Brooklyn...
> It was in that very seat that I was sitting in when the Odyssey
>crashed into Sappor."
TOM: [King] Yep. This is where I horribly crushed thousands of innocent
people to death under tons of metal.
CROW: [Avery] Cool! Can I sit in it?!
> "Wow," Avery said.
MIKE: Dialogue director Ben Stein.
> He was looking around the room, his attention
>caught by this little detail or that.
TOM: He's like a kitten in a yarn factory.
CROW: [King] Son, I'm worried you're missing the big picture he-
MIKE: [Avery] Look, dad! A Zagnut wrapper! A piece of lint! A penny!
> He had seen a lot of the Palace, and
>explored it's lower levels when he was younger,
CROW: When he accidentally fell into the Earth's core.
> but the top levels, that
>he'd never gone into. He'd never seen a map like what hung on the wall or a
>model so well detailed.
TOM: The king's big into Risk.
> It had ever town, road, and port. Small carved
>models, out of scale with the model, but still there, of the fleet were in
>the harbors, along with some vessels flagged merchant, like the Stargazer in
>Odyssey's harbor.
MIKE: Now that was an interstate freight train of a sentence...
CROW: [Stephen] I've got commas, and by God I'm going to use them!
> His father sat down in his chair, and motioned for Avery to sit in
>the other one.
MIKE: [Regis] You've got three lifelines, now let's play - WHO WANTS TO BE
HEIR TO THE THRONE?
> "This room is the most secure room in the Palace," the King
>said.
MIKE: 'Scuse it, yer highness, just passing through.
CROW: [falsetto] Hi, Richie - some party we all had list night, huh?
TOM: Hey, King where's the necessary? Gotta take a top secret whiz!
> "Anything said in it, goes no further that this room. In it, I ask
>my advisors to be candid.
MIKE: Only sometimes, Sir Allen of Funt carries things a bit too far.
> They can tell me I'm wrong,
TOM: [King] And I may be wrong for all I know. But I may be right.
> that I'm a fool,
>or even that I'm dooming the Kingdom,
CROW: So basically, it's like being on "Hardball".
> but it goes no further."
MIKE: [King] And when I kill them for daring to question me, no one hears
a thing!
> "You let them talk back to you, you're the king!" Avery
>interrupted.
TOM: [Yul Brynner] And when you are king you too will know everything.
> "Yes I am, but it doesn't mean I'm perfect," the King said.
CROW: [King] It just means I'm always right.
>"Sometimes I need people to remind me. This is where they can do so without
>endangering the crown.
MIKE: So he has to come here when he wants someone to disagree with him?
Seems like an unnecessarily complicated way to have someone contradict
you.
TOM: You're forgetting we're in Ratliff-land. If it seems like the
simplest solution would be the best, it's probably not.
> It's also where the secrets of the Kingdom are kept.
CROW: Down there are the brutally dissected bodies of secret alien visitors -
like his First Officer, his helmsman, his transporter chief...
>I'm going to let you in on some of them now, but I want you to understand
>that what I tell you goes no further.
MIKE: [Avery] Dad, we already learned about this in school.
> Some day, when you have a son that
>has grown in wisdom and trustworthiness,
CROW: Note: only sons may be wise and trustworthy.
> you may bring him in on the
>secrets, but please take the same precautions I have."
TOM: [King] Yes, wait until he's as repressed and bitter as I made you.
> "I will, Father."
MIKE: [Avery] I'll be sure that my son is smart, handsome, powerful,
perfect, and I'll trust him with the secrets of the universe!
> "Very well," the King said. "Perhaps I should start with how the
>Odyssey and I came to this planet.
[all groan]
TOM: Well, settle in guys, this won't take much more than forever!
MIKE: Haven't we already heard all this? Several times?
CROW: Stephen's granting the king equal time for rebuttal.
> A long time ago,
TOM: ...back when this story began...
> I was part of an
>organization called Star Fleet. We guarded a federation of planets, much
>like this one,
CROW: And occasionally held horse races for the giddy fun of it all.
> save that the technology was much more advanced.
TOM: [King] For example - have you ever heard of a thing called "Amway"?
>That Federation, know as the United Federation of Planets,
MIKE: The Department of Redundancy Department, an official branch of
Ratliff Inc.
> had gotten involved in
>a war with another nation, the Cardassians.
CROW: Fortunately, it was only a backstory war, so the casualties were
light, but all-important to the current plot.
> At the time war was declared,
>I had been a Captain for three years.
TOM: [dryly] He was probably the youngest Captain in existence as well.
> With my experience, and because of a
>couple early skirmishes I won before we declared war, I was assigned to
>command a squadron
CROW: They gave him a command based on acts of naked aggression?
TOM: Maybe this is the mirror universe.
CROW: Y'think?
MIKE: I dunno, I think we'd have seen the S&M version of Kira if it was.
> consisting of the Stargazer, the Custer,
TOM: *snort!*
MIKE: For some reason, his crew was not encouraged by this.
CROW: Lemme guess - the rest of his squad consisted of the USS McClellen,
the USS Cornwallis and the USS Westmoreland.
> the Connecticut,
>the Magna Carta and my own Odyssey.
TOM: [HAL] This is highly irregular, Dave.
> One day the squadron engaged three
>Cardassian warships. Two of them we destroyed easily, but one escaped.
CROW: [King] We'd have let it go, but we strongly suspected they were
going to say bad stuff about us.
>I ordered the Odyssey to pursue, and the other four ships to respond to
>another distress call.
MIKE: It was Bajor's cat stuck up a tree - again.
> That turned out to be a mistake.
CROW: [King] I should have suspected something when I noticed the distress
signals were sent from over Macho Grande.
> I have no idea
>what happened to the other ships, but the Odyssey ran into a ambush. We
>managed to survive it, somehow, but we lost the stardrive section..."
MIKE: Did you try retracing your steps from the last place you saw it?
> "The what?"
TOM: [King] The big thing.
> "The part that made this ship go," the King explained.
CROW: Fortunately we still had the part that made it stop.
>"and severely damaging the saucer section.
MIKE: But thankfully having no effect on the rhythm section.
> "What?"
CROW: Look, kid, stop asking questions or he'll *never* get through it!
> "This palace. We made it to this planet, but could not keep
>ourselves in orbit, nor call for help.
MIKE: Nor eat, nor bathe themselves, nor observe basic rules of hygiene,
nor...
> So we made a barely controlled
>crash-landing, which resulted in the near total destruction of the town of
>Sappor, and the total loss of the Ellosia royal family.
CROW: The biggest surprise? The ship's counselor *wasn't* driving!
> "To make a long story short,
TOM: Hah! *There's* a ship that's already sailed!
> I chose to replace the royal family
>myself, rather than let the country disintegrate.
CROW: [King] And the Ellosians, being complete wussies, let me.
> That's when I broke the
>Prime Directive."
MIKE: [King] And except for being an absolute ruler and basking in the
fawning glory of millions of people, I've just been sick about it.
> "What's the Prime Directive?"
TOM: It's usually the excuse used to delay the obvious until the fifth act,
and to try to make us believe that Picard or Janeway is being
daring and rebellious.
> "The Prime Directive is a Star Fleet regulation about dealing with
>less advanced cultures.
CROW: [King] Like this dump.
> To quote:
> It is forbidden to interact with a less advanced culture in such a
>way that inhibits or changes in any fashion it's natural path of
>development.
>
MIKE: Oh, and there's a long part regulating the export of DVD's.
TOM: So the Prime Directive can't tell the possessive its from the
contractive it's?
> "Why was that a rule? I'd think helping a less advanced culture
>would be good."
TOM: Yeah, but when you raise the subject, Canadians always get so
uptight...
MIKE: [hanging head] Tom, *please*!
TOM: Yeah yeah yeah, like Lieutenant Yellowknife's gonna come busting
in here after me!
> "Not always, and more often than not it results in the less advanced
>culture being exploited."
CROW: Which can sometimes be a good thing, such as with Shaft.
> "How?"
MIKE: [King] Son, remember when the Yankees got Ruth from Boston?
> "Well, they could be used as slave labor, or treated as second
>class citizens.
MIKE: Which, of course, is certainly not happening here.
TOM: Nope.
> It's generally better to let the culture advance on it's
>own.
CROW: That way they'll be forced to be backwards and easily controllable
for the foreseeable future.
> Of course, I didn't have much choice with Ellosia. By our crash
>landing we severed the whole Ellosian government.
TOM: [King] Course, we missed a few the first time, but we eventually
got 'em all !
> All my actions since then
>have been trying to lessen the impact of that. In essence, I'm trying to
>keep the spirt, not the letter of the Prime Directive."
CROW: Look, there's no point in him telling us all this *now* - he's just
going to have to repeat it for Picard later, and again when he's
let go to keep ruling here.
> "Father, will I have to follow this directive?"
TOM: [Avery] And can I have my own starship, too? Huh? Can I?
> "I don't think so. You aren't a Star Fleet Officer, and I've done
>everything I can think of to prevent high technology from causing problems
>once I'm gone."
CROW: And leaving a frelling big half space ship in the middle of a
medieval kingdom helps?
MIKE: The second he kicks off, the whole palace's wired to go off like
a bottle rocket.
> "Is that why Mother is dying?"
TOM: [King] No, that's because of the stuff I slip into her coffee ev-
dyah! Uh, I mean, no, son, of course not.
> "Your mother was this ship's Doctor.
CROW: Boy, so much for the whole "physician, heal thyself" thing.
> She says that there is nothing
>that could have been done even if we hadn't dismantled Sickbay.
MIKE: [King] She's pretty incompetent.
> Your mother
>and I have had a long life, son. How old do you think we are?"
CROW: [Avery] I dunno, about a million billion kajillion years, I guess
> "Forty something."
MIKE: Melanie Mayron and Timothy Busfield star in yet another classic
reunion show.
> "I am sixty-three and your mother is fifty-seven.
TOM: [King] We average out to 60.
> Of the leaders of
>Ellosia only Patriarch Isaiah is older than me, and he's not in the best of
>health.
MIKE: [King] Thanks to me. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!
> I've probably got five more good years in me, if I'm lucky.
CROW: And about 20 mediocre years, then another 3-4 years that kinda suck.
>Hopefully you'll be ready to take over by then."
TOM: [Avery] Whaddaya mean, "by then"? I want you and mom out of town
by sunset!
> "I don't want that to ever happen."
MIKE: I want to be a coddled, powerless prince till the end of my days.
> "I'm afraid that's one want that isn't going to be filled.
TOM: Yeah, that and the one about Tina Fey.
> Someday
>this whole land and it's worries will be yours.
CROW: [Avery] What, the curtains?
MIKE: [King] No, not the curtains!
> So we better get to bed
>early, because early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and
>wise."
TOM: And a penny saved is a penny earned.
CROW: [King] I also discovered electricity. Did you know that?
> Together, father and son, they descended from the Map Room and off
>to the Royal Quarters.
>
MIKE: It's nice that they can find time to indulge their numismatic urges.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family"
>
CROW: But make sure it's not the one about the wilting bananas.
TOM: Let's clear outta here, guys.
[All leave]
O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6]
[SOL - Crow is seated on a bench, strumming a guitar. He is visible only
from the waist down]
CROW: [Singing to the tune of the Theme from "Dukes of Hazzard"]
Just some good old dukes - never pallin' around.
Beats all you never seen, been in trouble with the king
Since his ship hit the ground.
He's destroyin' the towns, flattenin' out hills.
Someday Starfleet might get him but the law never will.
They made him ki-i-i-ing, now he's runnin' the show,
And that's just a little bit more than the dukes wanna know.
Just some good ol' dukes, couldn't change if they would.
They surrendered their system like their heads were made outta wood!
[Cut past Crow to Mike & Tom. They are dressed normally, but each wears a
floppy, medieval-type hat. They are standing next to life-size cardboard
cutouts of Fidel Castro and Sean Penn (as Spicoli), who are also decked out
in floppy, medieval-type hats.]
MIKE: [Very bad southern accent] Forsooth! Howdy, yall! I'm Avtra
Duke, an' this hyar's my brother Armedge Duke, anon.
TOM: [Even worse southern accent] Yeeeeehah! Felicitations an'
Tally Ho! An' this's our cousin, Castrome Duke...
FIDEL: [Bill Corbett's voice with cheesy Cuban Accent] Hola, Senors and
Senoritas. Death to Yankee Running Dog Capitalist Scum, no?
TOM: An' this here's our other cousin, Fasstime Duke.
SEAN: [Paul Chapin, doing a Spicoli Impression] Aloha! Royal Surf's up!
MIKE: Hey, listen yall! We gotta get the crown back from that flatlander
in his big ol' ship from the sky!
CROW: [VO, as Waylon Jennings] Yep, them ol' Duke boys was comin' up with
another plan to get Boss York outta his castle and off the throne
of Ellosia.
TOM: I gotta idea! We kin drop a starship on him like he did to poor ol'
Will Ferrell!
MIKE: Armedge, ya big galoot! Where're we gonna get a starship to drop
on him? He's got the only one in all Ellosia!
TOM: Hey, I'll talk to th' ol' Baron of Cooter - he'll *build* us one!
MIKE: That's a purty good idea, heheheheh!
SEAN: Dudes!
FIDEL: Ay, Comrades, I still think we need to incite revolution of
proletariat to overthrow el rey del cielo!
TOM: Naw, that'll take too long!
MIKE: 'Sides, th' only reason we wanna overthrow the bloodthirsty tyrant
is cuz *we* all wanna be the bloodthirsty tyrant.
SEAN: Hey, cousin-type dudes! If you get your ship, how ya gonna drop it
on him?
MIKE & TOM: Hmmmm....
CROW: [Waylon VO] Yep, them ol' Duke boys was really in a mess, all right.
But leave it to their sister, the Duchess Daisy, to come up with a
plan!
[pause]
CROW: [Waylon VO] Uh, I *said*, leave it to their sister, the Duchess
Daisy, to come up with a plan!
[more pausing]
CROW: [normal voice] Uh, Gypsy, that's your cue to come out and...
GYPSY: [O.S] No!
TOM: [nor-mal *voice*] C'mon, Gypsy...
GYPSY: [O.S.] Nuh-uh! No way! For-*get* it, Jackson!
MIKE: [Nor-mal VOICE!!!] What's wrong, Gyps?
GYPSY: [enters stage left, carrying a wad of denim in her mouth, which she
angrily spits to the console] I'll tell you what's wrong! I refuse
to parade around dressed in those cut-offs like a piece of meat!
CROW: Lighten up, Gypsy, it's just part of the character.
TOM: Yeah, this is what she wears.
GYPSY: Well *you* wear it then. I plan to keep my dignity! [storms off]
TOM: Huh. Well, that's it for this sketch, I guess.
MIKE: Guess so. Hey, who's for some liquid refreshment?
FIDEL: How about a Cube Libre, mi amigos? Heh heh heh!
SEAN: Hey! Learnin' about Cuba, having some booze!
MIKE: Let's go, then.
[Mike & Tom leave, along with the cardboard Fidel & Sean (they're on wheels
of some sort), leaving only Crow perched alone up on his stool.]
CROW: Uh, guys? Someone wanna get me off this stool? Hello? Anyone?
Hello? [Pause] Ah, well. [Resumes strumming] o/` Mamas, don't
let your babies grow up to be cowbots... o/`
[Crow continues singing over the meatball as we go to...]
COMMERCIALS
1) Steven Spielberg! "Taken"! Love it!
2) McGrill Scrapings! Because you'll buy anything for 99 cents!
3) Can you hear me now? Can you hear me *now*?! CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW!!!
[All re-enter]
CROW: Okay two new rules: number one, no more costume pieces for the
duration of the fanfic.
MIKE: Agreed.
CROW: And number two, no leaving Crow trapped up on the ridiculously
elevated stool.
TOM: Um, we'll get back to you on that.
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 5/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
>Message-ID: <00dj3u0p6ff41vl69bdjup8gdl9kgt6pc5@4ax.com>
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>(newsmaster1.
TOM: *fzzt* Ah, Newsmaster Base, this is Newsmaster1, target is in sight,
request permission to proceed with journalistic strike, over. *fzzt*
> prod.itd.earthlink.net)
>Path: corp-news.newsgroups.com!propagator-la!news-in-la.newsfeeds.com!
>news-out.visi.com!hermes.visi.com!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.
>earthlink.net!newsmaster1.prod.itd.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.
>earthlink.net.POSTED!not-for-mail
>Xref: news4 alt.startrek.creative:104982
>Status: N
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 5/16 Serialized Weekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship
>Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: Turns out it's the Rhythm Nation. Captain Janet Jackson is sought
for questioning.
>Chapter Four: View from High Places
>
MIKE: Wow, man, Ratliff is, like, totally baked!
BOTS: Dude!
> Prince Avery woke up just before the sun broke over the horizon.
TOM: [Neil] Morning has broken.
>This was unusual for him,
MIKE: He usually staggered drunkenly in around this time.
> but he wasn't going to miss his first morning
>council meeting. He quickly washed and dressed,
CROW: And this time, he remembered to do it in that order.
> thankful for the plumbing
>of Odyssey Palace.
TOM: It was working for once?
CROW: Avery's not the type to take something for granted, I guess.
> Verifor Castle and Castromepor Villa,
MIKE: Now with beautiful 1, 2 and 3 bedroom townhomes overlooking the lake.
> the other two
>royal residences lacked plumbing in the private washrooms.
TOM: They just had serfs with buckets.
> Then he hurried
>toward the Map Room stairs.
TOM: Trampling six maids, two guards, and a steward.
CROW: [Avery] Sorry!
> On his way, he encountered Lord Harlan.
CROW: The prince asked for an autograph and got a punch in the gut.
> The Minister of
>Intelligence was carrying several covered clip boards and appeared to be
>disturbed and tired.
CROW: Yep, it's Harlie, all right.
MIKE: He's the only guy I know who was born with an ulcer.
> "Morning, your highness," Harlan said.
TOM: [Harlan] Hey, why don't you be a good Prince and fetch your ol'
Uncle Harlan some coffee and a shot?
> "Good Morning, Lord Harland," Avery said. "You look like you
>haven't slept."
TOM: He has no mouth and he must snore.
> "You'll find out why, soon," Harlan said,
CROW: [Harlan] When you become one of the unde... Daaa, I mean "Soon"!
> as they reached the Level
>6 entrance to the Map Room stairs.
MIKE: Oh yeah? Well *my* Map Room stairs are level seven with Charm +87.
CROW: Hah! Mine are level 10 with extra resistance to Ice magic attacks!
TOM: Amateurs! I've got the level 100 Map Room Stairs of Isendur which
reflect ALL magic attacks AND only accessible through a sub-quest
only available when you pour grape soda all over your Playstation!
> The King's usual guard stood at
>attention there. "Good Morning, Roland."
ALL: Roland Warner?
> "Morning, sir."
TOM: Written any more stories about inflatable cars and giant virus eggs?
> "Good man, Roland," Harlan said,
MIKE: [Harlan] Long, tedious, bloodthirsty Song of his, but a good man.
> as they began to climb the stairs
>"His mother was one of my officers, before she married a merchant and
>started having babies.
CROW: [Harlan] Too bad she had to pretty much sacrifice all her rights when
we crashed here, but, heh, whattaya gonna do?
> I think Roland has four little brothers and seven
>sisters.
CROW: Zowie!
MIKE: Boy, when she decided to blend in, she really went all the way!
> Ah, her we go."
TOM: Uh, no, I think her's gone a few times too many already!
> The door to the Map Room was already open. Inside were the King and
>the rest of his advisors.
MIKE: Rand and McNally.
> They seemed to be having bread and jam, waiting
>for everyone.
TOM: Yes, the height of royal privilege: bread and jam.
> "Good Morning Harland, have some bread and jam,"
CROW: It's waiting for everyone.
TOM: So are they having bread and jam, or not?
MIKE: I'm not sure. Stephen is being very ambiguous on the subject.
> the King
>said. "It's yellowberry this morning. You too, Avery. We're waiting for
>Toshio."
MIKE: [King] I'm sure he'd like some bread and jam as well!
> "Well pardon me if I can't run up the stairs like the rest of you
>young folks," a wizened old man said from the door way.
ALL: Gandalf?!?
CROW: [Toshio] You young kids with your stairs and your iambic pentameter
and your bear-baiting and ... ah, I dunno what's wrong with you!
> Toshio was one of
>Avery's favorites of his father's advisors, with his white long whiskers,
>and the colorful robe he always wore.
TOM: I bet it was red and yellow!
CROW: And green and brown!
MIKE: And scarlet and black!
CROW: And ochre and peach!
MIKE: And ruby and olive!
TOM: And violet and fawn!
ALL: And cream and crimson and silver and rose and azure and lemon and
russet and grey and purple and white and pink and orange and red and
yellow and green and brown and blue!
> "Toshio, none of us are young anymore," the King said.
MIKE: Except for Lord Dick Clark.
> "That's why
>I decided that Avery should start sitting in on these meetings.
CROW: [King] He's the only one in the room who doesn't need a hearing aid.
> We need him
>to know everything.
CROW: Like the airspeed of an unladen swallow.
MIKE: And the proper way to prepare crepes suzettes.
TOM: And where to get parts for a 1969 VW Microbus.
MIKE: And the sound of one hand clapping.
TOM: And why is a mouse when it spins.
CROW: And the best way to get stubborn stains out of linen.
TOM: And who put the overalls in Mrs. Murphy's chowder.
CROW: And how to operate a TiVo.
MIKE: And the wonderful world of Andrew Lloyd Weber.
CROW: And the way to drive with a stick shift.
MIKE: And how to spot a counterfeit bill.
TOM: And who was *really* Keyser Soze.
ALL: *Everything!*
> Now, since Avery doesn't know all of you, or all of
>your roles, I'd like you to preface today's reports with you job titles.
[All groan]
TOM: Well OF COURSE you would! You'd like that EVERY SINGLE FRICKING
TIME, wouldn't you, huh?
MIKE: You'd think someone would've invented "HI I'M _______" nametags by now.
>Harlan, you go first today, and I'd like a full summary of all intelligence
>today, both external and internal."
CROW: [King] And don't forget to include your favorite bread and jam.
> "Very well, your Majesty," Harland said as he opened one of his clip
>boards.
MIKE: Fresh from the hands of the clipboardsmith.
CROW: Good thing there's no cultural contamination going on here.
> "Your Highness, I'm Chief of His Majesties Intelligence force.
MIKE: [Harlan] I like wheat with strawberry jam.
>We'll start with External affairs. Janvart is still engaging in piracy
>along the Rogian coast.
CROW: [Harlan] Although why anyone would want to bootleg Jasmine Guy
CDs is beyond me.
> They suspect we know that.
TOM: [Harlan] But they're wrong. We don't have a clue.
> It looks like Rogian is
>going to invade Grimall.
CROW: They have fierce Grimalli warriors!
> The Archduke is getting rather anxious, spending
>lots of time upgrading his border outposts.
MIKE: It wouldn't take so long if they'd download the right DLL files first.
> It makes me glad Ellosia has no
>land borders. Dinath's Queen Kaitlin is courting King Louis V of Rogia,
>again."
CROW: [Harlan] He thinks he might even be able to get her to let him kiss
her tonight, too! (giggles girlishly)
> "Isn't he already married?" Avery asked.
TOM: So "intelligence" is just another word for "vicious gossip".
MIKE: Yeah, pretty much.
> "Queen Theresa died two months ago," Harland said.
CROW: News travels slow here, doesn't it?
> "King Louis is
>keeping it quiet, but our intelligence indicates that Prince Louis pushed
>his stepmother out a window.
TOM: All hail Louis the Defenestrator!
CROW: And it turns out jumpers always take of their glasses.
MIKE: What have I told you about watching CSI?
> Now on to internal affairs, and boy is this a
>mess, gentlemen."
MIKE: [Harlan] Things got complicated. My innocence has all but faded.
> "When has it not been?" Toshio interrupted.
CROW: [King] Remember last year's annual Christmas Party? Things were
pretty simple then.
> "You have a point," Harland said,
TOM: For the love of... is it Harlan or Harland? Decide!
MIKE: Maybe funnyman Harland Williams wandered in.
> opening another clipboard. "We'll
>start with Avtra. Duke Murdock has sent his soldiers to the border with
>Fasstime again,
CROW: Where they'll kick 100% of his ass!
> but word is this time that Cedric asked him to do it and
>hold steady. In the seven years Cedric has been Earl of Avtra, he's never
>done this before.
MIKE: [Harlan] We're pretty sure the old boy's finally wigged!
> Cedric has also disappeared from his castle on Dragon
>Island.
TOM: We believe he's been eaten.
> Rumor is he might be on his way to see his younger brother, as a
>message from Lord Elden had arrived shortly before the current chain of
>events began in Avtra.
MIKE: [Harlan] It read: "Dear Cedric, let's see if we can ool-fay the
ing-Kay from ars-May." We're trying to decode it.
> Oh, and Duke Murdock's annual request for an
>adjustment of his border near Janna Bay arrived yesterday, with his taxes."
TOM: [Harlan] Along with a note saying "Death to the Bloody Tyrant From
The Stars".
> "Pen the usual response, Lord Kelsey," the King directed.
CROW: Lord Kelsey Grammar?
TOM: The usual combination Emmy acceptance speech and rehab release
statement.
> "Only
>this time tell him that I've decided to question Earl Cedric and Lord Elden
>on their lord's respective behalf's, next time I see them.
MIKE: Oh, man, they pulled a pop quiz!
> I've let that
>issue go on too long."
> "Very well, your Majesty," Lord Kesley, the youngest member, save
>Prince Avery said. "I'll have it ready by this afternoon for your
>signature."
TOM: Thank you, Lord Brownnose!
> "Now on to Castrome, and perhaps our biggest problem," Harlan said.
> "Since when has Castrome been a problem," Toshio said. "I thought
>we solved that one years ago."
CROW: [Toshio] Didn't we drop a starship on them, too?
> "Since other Dukedoms started butting in again," Harlan said.
TOM: Wow, Mike, do real government officials use phrases like "butting in"
in official government meetings.
MIKE: I doubt it, but it would make the meetings more interesting. Even
more so if they used the "f" word!
>"It seems someone realized the importance of Lady Hayley.
MIKE: [Harlan] They just took her off the market yesterday. It's
extremely rare to find one now.
> Being in the direct
>line for two dukedoms makes her a very marriageable woman.
TOM: Despite being in the 8th grade.
> In particular,
>Lord Henry of Fasstime has approached Lord Elden of Castrome about marrying
>her, and opposing the King.
CROW: He proposed it all wrong and wound up marrying the King and opposing
Lady Hayley.
> Lord Elden immediately informed his wife, and
>Duchess Desiree and Lady Hayley immediately set out for Odyssey.
MIKE: And what of John's love for Marsha?
> Since
>then, Lord Elden has communicated with his brother and told Lord Henry that
>'he'll think about it.'"
CROW: And knowing his brother the way he did, that was the biggest laugh
Henry'd had all year.
> "What about the other two daughters of Duchess Desiree and Lord
>Elden?" the King asked.
TOM: Horseface and The Schnozz? Ah, who gives a rip?
> "Lea and Whitney have been moved to Castromepor Villa, and placed
>under Royal guard at Lord Elden's request," Harlan said.
CROW: *That'll* teach 'em to stay out partying past midnight!
> "We'll be sending
>a naval vessel to pick them up and bring them here soon. That's on Admiral
>Sidney's agenda.
MIKE: Battleship, taxi - pretty much the same thing.
> I believe you have an announcement concerning Lady Hayley,
>your majesty?"
CROW: [Harlan] I believe the coop is about to be nested. The sled is about
to get hitched, Spain is ready to claim the island.
> "Yes, I've decided that Lady Hayley will be marrying my son, as soon
>as practical," the King said.
TOM: [King] Namely, when they're both old enough to get a driver's license.
> "Duchess Desiree proposed the match, and I
>have informed her of my acceptance of the match.
CROW: So - there's a match?
MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions.
> A public announcement will
>be made in today's session of Court.
TOM: Right above the "Dilbert" cartoon. It's a scream.
> Try not get dusty riding before then,
>Avery."
CROW: Is that a euphemism? That's a euphemism, isn't it?
TOM: Hope he remembers to wear his riding boots.
> "That solves part of our problem," Harlan said. "It seems Lord
>Henry has been busy.
MIKE: [King] He's mowed the lawn, painted the deck, *and* fixed that leaky
sink in the utility room.
> In response to my quires last night,
TOM: Huh? "Quires"?
MIKE: Maybe he meant "queries". Or "squires".
CROW: Or possibly even "choirs". You know, he sent the Royal Chorus out
to sing and spy.
> I have learnt
>that all of the Duke of Armedge's sons have been approached about an
>unspecified alliance with Fasstime.
CROW: They could tell because the first side of Led Zeppelin IV was playing.
> Since Duke Nolan is a very smart ruler,
MIKE: [Harlan] Compared to the rest of you...
>and his sons have spent quite a bit of time at court, the offers were
>rebuffed.
TOM: They're shinier now, and dangerous to walk on.
> In fact, Lord Henry's representative was thrown off the side of
>the second son's ship."
MIKE: And *immediately*, Riker showed up to chew the guy out!
CROW: This isn't a story, it's a dunking game.
> "I wasn't aware that Trevor had gotten a ship," the King said.
TOM: These guys sure do take nobles getting bumped off in stride.
MIKE: They take their cues from Good King Crash'n'Burn over there.
> "He took over the Godspeed from Captain Farley last week," Admiral
>Sidney said, flipping though his papers.
CROW: [Farley] You'll have plenty of time to be a sea captain when YOU'RE
LIVING IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!!!
> "That would be one of our fast cutters?" the King asked.
MIKE: It can do an appendectomy in just under 2 minutes.
> Admiral
>Sidney nodded. "Where is it now?"
TOM: [Sidney] In the cupboard between the cuisinart and the blender.
> "It's docked at Bluepor," Admiral said. "It's been reprovisioned
>and is await reassignment."
> "That's a quarter day's ride from Odyssey," the King said.
TOM: More if there's construction on the Bluepor-Odyssey Bypass!
MIKE: And there's *always* construction on the Bluepor-Odyssey Bypass!
> "After
>we're done here, Avery, I want you to take a ride to there, and give Captain
>Lord Treavor Armedge some new orders.
TOM: [King] But be back here in an hour for the wedding announcement. And
don't get dusty riding!
> Admiral Sidney, those orders are to
>go to Castromepor and retrieve Ladies Lea and Whitney and bring them back
>here."
CROW: Heeeeeey. "Lea Whitney" is almost the last two names of Grace Lee
Whitney, Yeoman Rand.
TOM: Very *good*, Crow. Do you think it's possible Ratliff is a Trekkie?
> "Now on to the center of this mess, Fasstime," Harlan said.
TOM: Amy Heckerling has a lot to answer for!
> "I'm
>not sure how long Lord Henry has been scheming, but he's been good about
>hiding it.
CROW: [Counselor] How good could he be if you know all about it?
MIKE: [King] YOU DARE QUESTION ME?!? GUARDS!!! GUARDS!!!
> Duke Lionel is most definitely unaware, as Lord Henry has been
>intrusted with the Ducal seal.
TOM: Fortunately, he and Tennessee Tuxedo escape almost daily.
> Previous patterns indicate that he may have
>arranged the whole Drake mess. He was the one to introduce Drake to the
>Earl of Dunsen's daughters.
MIKE: How fortunate they were able to crash on a planet with such English-
sounding names and titles.
TOM: Yeah, "Blrphul, the Suj of Nooo!rhsk" just doesn't have the same
majestic ring to it.
> I suspect that at least one of the three
>children, if not all, were actually his.
TOM: So - not so much "Star Trek" as "As The Backwards Feudal Planet Turns".
> When looking at the evidence from
>another angle,
CROW: It looks like a duck wearing a funny hat jumping rope.
> I've found a connection between Lord Henry and the poison
>used on Earl Drake.
MIKE: [Harlan] And this document here not only links him to the Kennedy
assassination, but prove he was the mastermind of the whole thing!
> Lord Henry was, and still is, in charge of customs at
>Dunsen on Fasstime.
TOM: So he's the guy who decides if it's still a 15 percent tip, or if it's
gone up to 20 percent or more.
> If anyone can sneak in poison, he can."
CROW: Actually - pretty much anyone *can* sneak in poison.
MIKE: It's not like it's gonna set off any metal detectors.
> "I wish you'd found that out seven years ago," the King said. "Then
>I would still have my court musician.
TOM: Oh, trying to subvert the kingdom is one thing, but messing with the
musicians' guild is asking for trouble.
MIKE: Yeah, the RIAA is going to be all over this guy.
> I've summoned all the Dukes, Lord
>Elden, Earl Cedric, and Lord Henry to Odyssey.
TOM: Along with Eubie Blake! Funnyman Guichee Guy! And the Mighty Ratliff
Art Players!
> Hopefully we'll be able to
>break this plot out into the open.
CROW: [King] If not, we'll just call in Sir Mulder and Countess Scully.
> Any thing else, Harlan?"
> "No, sire."
MIKE: [Harlan] Can I go back to just being a cranky SF writer now?
> "Then get some rest before court," the King said. "Lord Toshio."
TOM: [Toshio] I like Jewish rye and boysenberry!
> "Your highness, I'm the head of the King's Diplomatic services,"
>Toshio said.
TOM: [King, whispering] We just tell him that. Keeps him quiet.
> "Since Lord Harlan took up so much of our time,
CROW: [Toshio] The big blabbermouth!
> and Lord
>Kelsey does hate when we mess up his schedules, though he'll probably deny
>it,
MIKE: [Kelsey] I deny it!
> I'll stick to new business and updates today.
CROW: A sentence that can't be diagrammed in less than five dimensions.
> Rogia is still not
>accepting our overtures of peace, but they never do.
TOM: Try a movement of appeasement, with a quick arpeggio of isolation.
Then start singing "Itsy-Bitsy Teeny-Weeny Yellow Polka Dot
Bikini" until they surrender.
> It's a hopeless cause.
CROW: [Toshio] Life sucks, basically! Let's just kill ourselves!
>Grimall has asked for assistance in defended their shores."
MIKE: [Ed Grimley] Oh, I must simply insist, I must say! All this navy
business is just making me completely mental, doncha know?
> "Admiral Sidney, look into the possibility," the King ordered.
>"Toshio, I need more detail on that,
TOM: [King] There a small portion of my brain not yet clouded over with
meaningless facts.
CROW: [Toshio] I'm on it!
> see if you can get a representative of
>their navy to sit down with myself and Admiral Sidney."
TOM: [Toshio] Threaten to wipe out his entire family - got it!
> "Very well," Toshio said. "Queen Kaitlin of Dinath still wants to
>marry Avery, but that's now a moot point.
MIKE: Hrmph. You're de king! Make polygamy legal! Make both parties happy!
> That's all I have."
> "Admiral Sidney."
TOM: [Sidney] French loaf with Apple Butter.
> "Your highness, I am Lord Admiral of the Fleet.
MIKE: Have the orchestra standing by in case he starts singing Gilbert &
Sullivan.
> Since Lord Palmer,
>Army Chief of Staff, is currently reviewing training in Avtra, I'll be
>handling all of the Armed Forces briefing today," Admiral Sidney said.
TOM: [Sidney] Now, have you ever read a book called "Seven Days in May"?
>"Lord Palmer reports that all of the Army units are up to his standards,
>though he is worried about the loyalty of the Fasstime unit.
MIKE: [Sidney] He thinks they're a bunch of stinking, commie bastards, sire.
> Castromepor
CROW: That's an anagram for 'Rope Toms car.'
MIKE: That's unusually cryptic even for Stephen.
>Shipyards indicates that the new Ship of the Line that Lord Elden designed
>will be ready to launch in a week.
TOM: Of course it's made out of creamed chipped beef, so it won't get far.
> I must report that the frigate Caroline
>went aground and sunk off the coast of Rogia, after being chased by a Rogian
>ship of the line.
MIKE: It's the Dread Pirate Westley up to his old tricks.
> Her crew was captured, save a midshipman and some crewmen
>who evaded capture in the ship's boat."
TOM: Good lord. In space and at sea, the battle scenes are the same length.
> "See that the midshipman gets a reward," the King said.
CROW: For what? Bailing out and leaving his shipmates to their doom?
MIKE: Just my luck. I sit through hundreds of bad movies and internet
trash, and this guy gets rewarded for not dying.
> "Done, sire," Sidney said. "That's all I have to report."
> "Lord Kelsey, my schedule," the King asked.
CROW: [Kelsey] "Press Your Luck", "Spongebob Squarepants", "Monty Python's
Flying Circus", and a SuperChunk of "Hong Kong Phooey" cartoons.
> "9 o'clock, meeting with the Duchess of Castrome," Kelsey began.
MIKE: 9:15, make sure there are no lipstick stains on the royal collar.
>"10 o'clock, meeting with the Odyssey City Council about sewage and
>marketplace price gouging.
TOM: Man, people just have no respect at all for prices. They're always
either gouging them or slashing them!
> 11 o'clock, early lunch.
CROW: Maybe scheduling the lunch *after* the sewage discussion was a
bad idea.
> Noon to 3 o'clock,
>Court.
MIKE: [King] Look, I'm the absolute ruler of the planet! Can't you
just get the suit dismissed or something?
CROW: [Sidney] She's hired Johnny Cochrane.
MIKE: [King] Blast!
TOM: 3 o'clock, lunch.
> 4 o'clock, tea with the Queen.
CROW: [Kelsey] 4:30, Photo-op with Boy Scout who sold the most popcorn
this year.
> 5 o'clock meeting with the
>Ambassador of Dinath.
TOM: 6 o'clock, lunch.
> Please try not to insult him about his hair again,
>your majesty.
MIKE: [King] I'm telling you, it's a wig! Anybody can see that.
> 6 o'clock meeting with the Duke of Armedge about teenaged
>sons.
CROW: You're to come out in favor of sons in the abstract, but against
every particular one.
> 7 o'clock, annual town ball.
TOM: 8 o'clock, lunch.
> Recommend a short stay, as this is more
>for Prince Avery's set.
CROW: Although a kingly rave does sound like a good idea...
> Your highness will be glad to note that as a newly
>engaged man, the Prince will not have to dance with all the young ladies
>regardless of how ugly he may think they are.
TOM: Ah, he's the sensitive prince.
> You will be expected to stick
>to Lady Hayley."
MIKE: [Sidney] I've got some Krazy Glue right here.
TOM: 10 o'clock, lunch.
> "That, I can handle," Avery said.
> "That will be all at the moment," Kelsey said.
CROW: [Kelsey] Oh, wait! Bagels with blueberry!
> "Very well, I'll see you gentlemen early tomorrow, or if you're so
>inclined, at the ball," the King said before heading down the stairs."
>
>
TOM: 11 o'clock, lunch.
MIKE: We're done there.
> Clara had never slept on the ground before.
MIKE: And now, back to our regularly scheduled characters, barely in
progress.
> She also had the
>misfortune to sleep on a rock.
CROW: That's not "misfortune", Clara dear, it's "deep personal stupidity".
> So she didn't sleep well, and she was
>finding the minstrel to be overly cheerful.
MIKE: Plus there's the fact that he's - well, y'know - a *minstrel*!
> Clara was blaming it all on
>Marrissa.
TOM: Oooooooh, finally the scales are falling from her eyes!
> After all, she wouldn't have volunteered if it wasn't for
>Marrissa suggesting it.
CROW: [Clara] Wah! She *made* me do it by asking me!
TOM: Clara's the type that could be held up by e-mail.
> "Good morning, Ladies," Cedric said.
MIKE: [Clara] Well it was before *you* woke up!
> "It's time to get moving, if
>we want to get to Odyssey before midday."
TOM: One question, why didn't they just all beam down to the city? I mean,
they have no sensors, so they won't be able to detect it. And I doubt
it'd be too difficult to find a safe, quiet place to beam down.
CROW: Remember, Tommy, in a Ratliff stories, logic has been known to fly out
the window, go once around the planet and crash into a sand dune.
> The dry bread did not make for a good breakfast. If she was still
>on the Enterprise, Clara would have been having a good breakfast with a tall
>glass of apple juice, pancakes covered with maple syrup, and two eggs, sunny
>side up.
CROW: And then she's off to her daily liposuction and angioplasty
session!
> "You seem eager to get to Odyssey, Minstrel," Beverly said,
>smoothing out her robes.
TOM: [Cedric] Yeah, I gotta go throw a bone in the air and watch it turn
into a spaceship or somethin'.
> "Once I was King Richard's court minstrel, Sister," Cedric said.
MIKE: His name was "Sister"?
CROW: Wow, I can see how he went with "Cedric", then.
>"I have lots of old friends in the city I'd like to visit."
MIKE: Would that be before or after the giant ship turned the city
into Scrapheap Acres?
> "Then perhaps you might know of a good place to stay for my charge?"
>Sister Beverly said.
TOM: [Cedric] Uh, sorry, they don't take American Express.
> "I will be staying at the Cloister of the Overflowing Cup,
MIKE: The one with the big statue of Saint Dolly Parton.
>but they have limited space, and my charge's school does not open for
>another couple weeks."
> "For a young lady, staying alone,
TOM: [Cedric] She can always stay with me.
MIKE: [Clara] Enterprise? Beam me up now!
> I'd recommend either the White
>Dove,
CROW: It softens your hands while you do the dishes.
> or the Prancing Faire," Cedric said.
MIKE: Guys, didn't we explicitly order Stephen to never, under any
circumstances, attend a Renaissance Festival?
> "Personally, I used to stay at
>the Golden Rinnebeast, but that is mostly for sailors, well off merchant
>sailors, but sailors none the less."
CROW: [Clara] Wow! Hey, Bev, can we...
TOM: [Beverly] No! Well, *you* can't!
> Clara mounted her rinnebeast. It was not, as the herdmaster had
>said, a well tempered beast,
MIKE: Or even a well tempered clavier.
> at least in Clara's view. It tended to rear
>when she prompted it to move forwards, and its gait was rough.
TOM: Plus - again - it's a giant lizard!
CROW: Clara's affectionately nicknamed it "Walking Salmonella".
> Of course,
>since this was her first rinnebeast, she had no idea if this was normal.
MIKE: Check the owner's manual, in the dashboard.
>In any case, she'd be glad when they left this planet, because she never
>wanted to ride a rinnebeast again.
CROW: She wanted to be - A LUMBERJACK!!!
> Riding was Marrissa's gig, not hers. She was
>an engineer.
>
TOM: [Clara] Damn it! I'll build a horse!
> Marrissa, meanwhile, was dealing with her own problems. Most
>notably of these was her morning companion, Lieutenant Calgary. He was
>getting on her nerves.
MIKE: Okay, fellas - place your bets: Humiliation, death, or both for
Mister Moosejaw? I say death.
TOM: Humiliation - how can Marrissa lord her superiority over a dead guy?
CROW: Both. This guy's got "Redshirt that deserves it" written all over him.
> "So what are we going to do now, Miss Picard?" he asked, as they
>walked toward the docks.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Well first, I'm going to drag you behind these boxes and
slap you sideways...
TOM: Lieutenants on the Verge of a Sissy Slap-Fight.
CROW: Okay, okay, we get it already - Vancouver's a dillhead!
> "First thing we are going to do is to get a couple things straight,"
>Marrissa replied. "First, we are fellow Lieutenants on the same ship, with
>only a couple days seniority separating us.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Which means *I'm* the boss around here! Capisce?!
> Following naval tradition, we
>are expected to be on first name basis, and I don't know yours."
TOM: Yeah, the navy's real big on making sure all its lieutenants call each
other by their first names.
> "Kendrick, but everyone calls me Ken," Calgary said.
TOM: o/` He'll try to kill her with a forklift! Ole! o/`
CROW: Kendrick Calgary! He's a rogue Canadian Lieutenant who won't play by
the rules - but he gets results!
MIKE: Hey, I thought his name was "Ferguson".
TOM: Yeah, but he uses his middle name. Wouldn't you?
> "Marrissa, but you knew that. I never had a nickname I really
>liked," Marrissa said.
CROW: [Marrissa] Except for "Dread Lord" - that one was kinda neat.
> "And the other thing, ask if I'm dressed before
>entering my room, tomorrow."
MIKE: Then barge in anyway, in true romantic comedy fashion.
> "Sorry," Calgary said. "I'll try to remember. So, what are we doing?"
MIKE: [Marrissa] This! <SLAP!!!>
> "You're supposed to figure out if any of the Odyssey's technology
>has been used in the surrounding city," Marrissa said.
TOM: That sign that read "This Way to Ye Olde Anti-Matterre Fluxe
Inducter" might have been a slight clue.
> "I thought a tall
>tower might allow you to figure out where to look."
TOM: They're completely ignoring the large saucer-shape castle in the
center of the city, aren't they?
MIKE & CROW: Yup.
> "Where are we going to find this tall tower?" Calgary said, somewhat
>sarcastically.
TOM: One rude Canadian in all of space and time and he's posted to the
Enterprise.
> "I thought the Church of Saint Dominic might do the job," Marrissa
>said. "According to the Innkeeper it's known for it's hundred and two feet
>tall twin bell towers, and its clock.
CROW: Yeah, and the gift shop, too.
TOM: Plus they have a great little cafe just around the corner.
> I thought you might want to look at
>the clock as well.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Cuz my birthday's coming up, ya know.
> The accuracy of time pieces is supposed to be a good way
>to judge how advanced a place is."
CROW: Or how obsessive their clockmakers are.
TOM: But how do they know if a time piece is accurate?
> "How would you know?" Calgary asked, as they turned up a broad
>avenue towards the distant church.
TOM: [Marrissa] I'm the Avatar here, I'm supposed to know everything.
> "I read about it in 'Evaluating Pre-stellar Culture,'
MIKE: ...'And How To Crush Them'."
> Captain
>Harrington, 2285," Marrissa said.
MIKE: Starfleet has enough Harringtons that they have to number them?
CROW: Honor's been busy.
> "I may not have much experience, but I am
>at least book smart."
>
MIKE: And in that sentence, she has summed up all that is wrong with the
modern educational system.
> If there was one vice that Prince Avery had, it was racing his
>rinnebeast.
MIKE: That and trendy redrum heroin.
TOM: Mike! No!
> He liked to ride his pale gold colored lizard as fast as he
>could go.
CROW: A blistering half-foot per hour.
> At the normal sedate pace that everyone else traveling the road
>to Bluepor was taking, it took about two hours to get there.
MIKE: Man, I don't care what century you're in, traffic's always murder.
> Avery did it
>in half that. Of course, his rinnerbeast nearly ran over several of his
>fellow travelers,
TOM: [Avery] Outta my way! Stupid non-royal type travelers!
> but most of them were locals, who knew that when you heard
>Prince Avery coming, you got out of the way.
MIKE: So it doesn't matter that he almost ran over the peasants. He's
royalty, they should know better than clogging up his country!
> So, it wasn't surprising that
>Avery's rinnebeast was breathing heavily when he reached the dock where the
>Godspeed was docked.
CROW: He's making the world's first obscene rinnebeast call.
> Avery tied up his rinnebeast and approached the
>gangplank.
> "Who goes there?" a sailor said from on board.
TOM: [Avery] Yo' mama!
> "Prince Avery, from Odyssey. I bring orders from Admiral Sidney and
>the King for Captain Lord Trevor Armedge."
CROW: *ahem* Two pounds of salami, a loaf of pumpernickel, a bottle of
spicy mustard and a six-pack of Sam Adams Honey Ale.
> Lord Trevor quickly appeared by the sailor side. "Welcome on board
>your highness," he said.
TOM: And the buttkissing will commence - now.
> Avery bounded up the gangplank. "Thank you, Captain," Avery
>replied, carefully pulling the folded and sealed orders out from under his
>over tunic. "Is there some place that I can give these to you in private?"
MIKE: It's the map to Olive Oyl's Gold Mine!
> "Certainly," Trevor said. "May I show your highness to my
>quarters?"
CROW: Hey Mike, remember when I showed *my* highness to your quarters?
MIKE: Yes, but somehow a mooning doesn't mean as much when it comes
from a robot.
> Together they went aft and into the Captain's Quarters. It wasn't
>very big, in Avery's standards, but it had a desk, a couple chairs, and a
>bed of sorts.
MIKE: Hey, it's bigger than my old dorm room.
CROW: A janitor's closet was bigger than your dorm room, Mike.
MIKE: Well, I went to UW-Stout on the economy plan.
> On the bed, nearly hidden, was a garment that Avery thought
>looked similar to his sister's breast bindings.
TOM: How does he know what his sister's...
CROW: Avery's just a Jack of all Perversions, isn't he?
MIKE: Whole Weird Area, hard to port, Cap'n!
> "Still taking the ladies to bed, Trevor?" Avery asked.
TOM: [Trevor] Yes, then tucking them in and singing them lullabies.
> "A lady in every port, as Admiral Sidney once said, your highness,"
>Trevor replied.
TOM: And a shot in every infirmary.
> "We are alone, Trevor," Avery replied, handing over the sealed
>orders. "And I don't know how you do it."
TOM: [Trevor] I don't! I just make it all up! God, I'm so lonely!
> "Don't knock it until you try it, and I'm sure your father wouldn't
>mind a few royal bastards around," Trevor replied,
MIKE: Bringing shame to your house, fighting bloody wars for a piece of
their birthright...
CROW: Their kids growing up to have other royal bastards.
TOM: A real vicious circle.
> opening the orders with a
>knife from his desk.
TOM: Action Plantagenet!
> "He might not mind, but I'm sure Lady Hayley would," Avery replied.
> "So they finally decided who to betroth you to. I wish you all the
>luck,"
CROW: [Trevor] And I mean that in the most fawning, insincere, misogynistic
way possible.
> Trevor said as he read over the orders. "It seems I'm to go pick up
>your future sisters-in-law.
CROW: [Trevor] Ho-yeah! Score two for the T-Man!
> May I assume that you've been briefed on Lord
>Henry's ambitions?"
TOM: He shall never become the Wendy's shift manager while I breathe! Never!
> "I've been told that you threw his messenger off your ship," Avery
>said.
MIKE: [Trevor] Yeah, but I kept his palm pilot.
> "I had him tossed overboard when he threatened me," Trevor said.
TOM: They're throwing more people in the water than we're joking about
throwing them in the water!
>"Then he snuck back on board that night and tried to kill me. I lost three
>men, including my first mate, as a result.
CROW: At that point I began taking it personally.
> Let your father and Lord Harlan
>know just how far Lord Henry will go. I'll depart within the hour."
MIKE: If you can't leave in an hour, you can leave in a huff. If that's
too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff.
> The two walked back up on deck, and Prince Avery took his leave,
>racing back to Odyssey.
>
MIKE: [Doodles] And in last place by 40 lengths, I believe it is, yes it is,
Feetlebaaaaaaaaaaaum!
> Up with the bells of the Church of the Overflowing Cup,
TOM: Overseen by Bishop Norm.
ALL: Norm!
> Lieutenant
>Calgary was finding it hard not to tell Marrissa that this had been a good
>idea.
TOM: D'oh! No, c'mon, Calgary, fight the mindspell!
CROW: Yeah, don't wimp out on us like Jellico did!
> This city, was not a typical city compared to Earth's in the
>fourteenth century.
MIKE: The strip clubs were a dead giveaway.
> It had wide avenues, no sign of open sewage drains, and
>if he wasn't mistaken, those were aqueducts bringing in running water to
>most of the city.
CROW: Sanitation - your sign of pure evil!
> The aqueducts were within the tech level, but not generally this
>wide spread. Every part of the city had access to one of them.
CROW: So it's not up to Renaissance levels but it is up to Roman Empire
standards?
MIKE: [deadpan] Truly these marvels could not have been possible without
Starfleet technology.
> He looked over at Marrissa, who was peering into one of the bells.
TOM: Their clean copper clappers had been copped by Cleveland kleptomaniac
Claude Cooper.
>It was almost time for the things to ring. "Get out of those bells," he
>called.
CROW: Thanctuary! Thanctuary!
> Marrissa ducked out of them, just as the monk below started to pull
>the rope. The bell rose, tilting upward until it reached halfway.
MIKE: Ummm - halfway *where*?
TOM: It's a Zen question, Mike.
> The monk
>let it go, and the bell swung down, ringing it's deep tone. Beside it other
>bells began to ring, in the classic peal of the hour.
CROW: Meanwhile, wagonloads of angels get their wings,
> "What were you doing?" Calgary said. "You could of been killed when
>that bell rang."
MIKE: But I was nowhere in sight when the church bells rang.
CROW: [warningly] Mike...
MIKE: Oh, c'mon! One little Christopher Cross reference.
TOM: That's the way it *always* starts, Nelson - with just one!
> "Sorry, I didn't know," Marrissa said nervously, barely heard over
>the bells.
CROW: Her tintinnabulation is just getting worse and worse.
MIKE: She didn't know? Has she never watched a cartoon in her life?
> "Some day you are going to get yourself killed if you don't start
>being more careful," Calgary said.
TOM: [Marrissa] I knew I wouldn't die - I'm the author's pet character.
MIKE: [Calgary] That's ridiculous!
TOM: [Marrissa] You *did* just save me, right?
MIKE: [Calgary] Yeah, but - D'OH!
> "I don't want to be the one to tell your
>father that you did something stupid and got yourself killed."
CROW: Oh! Oh! I'll do it!
TOM: Me! Me! Me!
MIKE: Spread out, you two - *I'll* handle this!
> Unfortunately for Calgary, this rant went unheard,
TOM: His Lewis Black CD was defective.
> as the tolling of
>the hour was much louder than his voice.
>
CROW: And the whole concept of "tell her again after the bells are done
ringing" escaped him.
>
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family"
>
CROW: So - five chapters in, and so far all we've got is a secret engagement
so secret even the *bride* doesn't know, lots of boring royal types
sitting around jawboning, Marrissa goes clock climbing, and a wet
Captain Picard.
MIKE: Yeah, that pretty well sums it up.
TOM: *sigh* Makes me long for the rip-roaring action sequences of
"Monster-a-Go-Go".
>Path:
>sn-us!sn-xit-01!supernews.com!207.217.77.43.MISMATCH!newsfeed1.
>earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!
>newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenbratliff@earthlink.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 6/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
>Message-ID: <c5q0euotvo9riacsgdc23k85mos4k8ni8i@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
CROW: X-Newsreader! Anne Curry gains super mutant powers!
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>Date: Tue, 14 May 2002 01:35:59 GMT
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>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 13 May 2002 18:35:59 PDT
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:159075
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 6/16 Serialized Weekly (resuming this week after awards delay)
MIKE: Awards delay?
CROW: Stephen takes time off every year to picket the Oscars.
TOM: Well, you never know - one day they may actually give Marina Sirtis
the Best Supporting Actress award.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship
>Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: His name? Saddam Hussein.
>Chapter Five: Leaders exit stage right
>
MIKE: [Snagglepuss] Immediately, even!
> Beverly, Clara, and Cedric had just reached the gates of Odyssey.
TOM: But there's still a 45 minute wait to actually get on the ride.
>They could hear the church bells toll ten times as they rode their
>rinnebeasts through the tall white gates.
CROW: Meaning it's time for "The Price is Right"
> As they reached the first
>intersection, Cedric paused. "I believe it's time for us to part company,"
>Cedric said.
MIKE: [Cedric] You can't get me drunk. You won't get me laid. Your
usefulness is at an end.
> "Sister, the cloister is four streets down,
TOM: [Cedric] And your Charmander is across town.
> and two streets to
>the right.
MIKE: And straight on 'till morning.
> Young Clarrissa, you'll find both the Prancing Faire and the
>White Dove, two blocks from here."
CROW: Why's he sending Clarrissa to gay bars?
> "And if I want to try the Golden Rinnebeast?" Clara asked, with a
>mischievous grin.
TOM: Try it with duck sauce.
> "And why would you want to do that?" Cedric asked
> "I've got a friend who's third mate on merchant vessel," Clara said.
MIKE: [Cedric] Hey, hey! Say no more, sister!
>"I want to see if she's in town."
CROW: [Clarrissa] I promised her we'd pub crawl tonight, maybe take in
a rave!
> "Third left, and all the way to the docks," Cedric said. "And if
>you have time before school starts, feel free to stop by to see me."
ALL: Ewwwwww!
> "And where do you live?" Clara asked.
> "Duke of Avtra's residence, near the West gate, It's impossible to
>miss," Cedric said.
MIKE: [Cedric] It's the butt-ugliest house in town.
> "A Duke's residence?" Clara said, somewhat surprised.
TOM: [Cedric] I'll be the one outside begging for scraps.
> "I am the Earl of Avtra, now, so my father frowns upon me living in
>the old sailor quarters I used to frequent," Cedric said.
MIKE: It used to be fine back when he was a boy, but now...
> "I must be off.
>The King will no doubt want my report, and I believe one of the gate keepers
>recognized me.
TOM: [Cedric] And I think I owe him ten bucks! I gotta bail!
> Good day, honored sister, young lady."
MIKE: [Cedric] Whateveryournamesare!
> With that, Cedric
>turned his rinnebeast and rode off towards the west end of town.
CROW: Where he was mugged, pantsed, and his rinnebeast stripped for parts.
> Now that Cedric was gone, Clara turned to the Doctor. "Did you
>notice those gates?" Clara asked.
TOM: *snort*
MIKE: [Clara] So that guy was royalty. Hey, check out that fencework!
CROW: Kind of ironic that she's asking Dr. Crusher about Gates though,
isn't it?
> "The ones that look like they were made out of the hull of a
>starship?" Beverly said. "Yes. Jean-Luc will want to know about those.
TOM: [Beverly] He's been looking all over for a pair. Home Depot was out.
>I want you to go get yourself a room. Try the White Dove first.
CROW: [Clara] But I hate white chocolate!
> I have to
>meet Jean-Luc at the market.
MIKE: Yeah. "Meet me at the market a couple days from now." That's not
directions, that's how you ditch the weird girlfriend.
> Give me your rinnebeast. I'll sell them off,
>and meet you at the inn around two."
>
MIKE: Wonder what the used Rinnebeast market is like?
CROW: Hi! I'm Cal Worthington, and this is my Rinnebeast, Spot!
> In the center of the marketplace, Beverly Picard waited. She'd
>gotten rid of her nun's outfit,
TOM: Now she was wearing her "Naughty Policewoman" costume.
> and now wore the typical dress of a merchant
>seaman's wife,
MIKE: An extra-short Japanese schoolgirl uniform!
> that is a well worn skirt and blouse, sort of a cream in
>color, highlighted with a red twine belt, the sign of a captain's wife.
CROW: All the other women wearing red rope belts had been arrested for
impersonating a wife.
>The marketplace was quite full.
TOM: Even John Flansburg was there talking about Napster.
> There were butchers and bakers, farmers and
>candlestick makers.
MIKE: And there was Jack and Mrs. Sprat, Little Jack Horner, Mary Quite
Contrary, and all the kings horses and all the kings men were there
having scrambled eggs for breakfast again.
CROW: And loan sharks. Don't forget the throngs of loan sharks.
> A woman passed by, with a basket full of eggs and a
>couple young children following her. The children wore little or nothing,
>not an uncommon trait of tropical cultures.
TOM: But since we never established that we're in a tropical culture, these
kids are just exhibitionists.
> In the center of the market place, there was some sort of memorial.
TOM: The VFW put up another statue of General Pershing.
>Beverly walked over to it, as it would be a typical meeting place. It was a
>granite half disk, sent in the ground at about a sixty degree angle.
MIKE: It's Albany's "Egg" arena at the Empire State Plaza.
>She took the time to read it's inscription.
TOM: *sigh* Yes, it is inscription.
MIKE: You're picking at the little things again, Crow.
TOM: I know. Sometimes, I just can't help it.
> "For the dead of the town of
>Sappor, dead the last day of the reign of King Ferrel IX.
CROW: Well that's what happens when you make a ferret a king. He spends
all day poinging around the palace, proclaiming every day National
karaoke day, getting distracted by shiny objects, running from
switchblade-carrying rabbits...
> May the world
>remember, but not suffer, their loss.
TOM: "Unless there's something good on TV."
> Erected on this ninth day of the
>second year of the reign of King Richard I." It was followed by a long list
>of names.
MIKE: Oddly, it turned out to be the 1927 Yankees line-up.
> Beverly found the inscription puzzling.
CROW: [Beverly] "Make Seven Up Yours". What the...
> She was still looking at it when Captain Picard arrived. "Good
>Afternoon, my love," he said, as he came up beside her.
> Beverly jumped,
TOM: Well, might as well jump.
CROW: Yeah, go ahead and jump.
> a little startled. "Don't do that!" Beverly said.
> Jean-Luc nuzzled up to his wife,
TOM: What is he, a porpoise?
> "Do what?" he whispered in her ear.
MIKE: [Beverly] Grab my butt and make that honking sound!
> "Startle me," Beverly replied, as he embraced her. "What do you
>make of this?"
CROW: [Johnny] Why, I can make a hat. Or a broach! Or a pterodactyl!
> "Remember, but not suffer?" Jean-Luc read. "Captain York always did
>have an interesting turn of the phrase."
MIKE: Of course, he makes less sense than most Dadists...
> "Shall we be going?" Beverly asked. "I've been wanting to see your
>ship again."
TOM: Was that a euphemism?
MIKE: Hard to tell.
> "I thought we might make a little detour to a little alcove I
>found," Jean-Luc said, kissing her.
TOM: Okay, that was *definitely* a euphemism.
CROW: Whoa! Picard must've picked up some Sapporan Viagra!
> "Captain Jean-Luc Picard!" Beverly said, acting scandalized at her
>husband's behavior.
MIKE: Um... mission? Focus, guys? Before the plot hits you?
> "Or perhaps a stop at hotel..." Jean-Luc said, throughly enjoying
>teasing his wife.
CROW: [Picard, sing-songily] Free HBO!
> "Or perhaps a stop in the brig," a stout man with a red beard said.
MIKE: Yukon Cornelius strikes again!
TOM: [Yukon Cornelius] Have I ever told you about bumbles? Bumbles bounce!
> The Captain and the Doctor looked up to discover a man on a golden
>rinnebeast, surrounded by his accompanying guard. "I don't believe we've
>met," Picard said, recovering from his surprise.
MIKE: [Picard] Or at least I hope we haven't! [mumbling] Damn Viagra-
induced blackouts...
> "Well, I know you, Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation
>Starship Stargazer," the man said.
CROW: They're so backwards on this planet they haven't even seen the "Next
Generation" tech manual!
> "And if I'm not mistaken, your companion
>is that strumpet that Jack Crusher always had on his arm...
TOM: Strumpet?
CROW: I guess that means Troi is Riker's strombone.
> Beverly, If I
>remember correctly. I'll have to put a watch out for him.
MIKE: [Harlan] He likes Seiko, right?
> I'm Lord Harlan,
>Chief of Palace Security, and I'm charging you with treason."
CROW: John Ashcroft *is* Lord Harlan!
> "I don't know what you're talking about," Jean-Luc said. "I'm just
>the captain of a small ship in the harbor."
TOM: [Roger Whitaker] o/` I'm the captain of a shiiiip in the hah-ah-arbor!
And I'm not here to spy on yooooou at aaaaall! o/`
> "We'll see about that." Lord Ellison said.
CROW: Ellison? It *is* Harlan Ellison! See?
> "Guards, seize them."
CROW: [Larry] We seez them!
TOM: [Curly] Yeah, dey're right dere!
MIKE: [Moe] Get with it, you knuckleheads!
> Two men took hold of Beverly, one grabbing hold of each arm.
TOM: Quickly, they disarmed her.
MIKE & CROW: D'OH!!!
> As she
>struggled futilely, she saw two more soldiers had Jean-Luc.
CROW: Sheesh! Kirk would've needed like five guards fighting him off
one at a time to get caught.
TOM: Or one cute technicolor woman bonking him with a rock from behind.
> "Charge them with public lewdness, and put them in the bottom of the
>dungeon," Lord Harlan said.
>
MIKE: He tried putting the last prisoners on the *side* of the dungeon, but
they just wouldn't stick.
TOM: So, let's recap. Public nudity is okay, but kissing sends you to the
dungeon. Everyone clear on this?
CROW: Daaamn! They landed on Planet Taliban!
> Prince Avery entered the throne room
MIKE: Geez, now I've got to use the throne room.
CROW: You should have thought about that before you came in here, Mike.
> from the door labeled "Portside
>Gym." It was one of the original entrances to the throne room, located just
>to the right of the throne.
TOM: So the bridge was right next to the gymnasium? What, did Jack La Lane
design the Odyssey?
> He'd just come from his room, where he'd
>changed out of his dusty riding clothes.
MIKE: So much for trying not to get dusty.
> Now he wore a clean cut outfit.
CROW: In fact, he looked just like Fred MacMurray!
>It was dark blue, his favored color, and had the rather simple symbol of
>the Royal Family embroidered on the left breast in silver and gold thread.
TOM: Oh c'mon, it's just an old Izod shirt!
CROW: Now, this is *not* his gym outfit, right?
>His mother appraised his attire as Lord Kelsey announced his arrival.
CROW: She offered him $50 - $55 if he threw in the shoes.
> He hadn't
>expected to see her.
CROW: [Avery] MOOOOOM! Stop it! I can dress myself!
MIKE: [Claire] Not until you stop putting underwear on the outside.
CROW: [Avery] But it's the style!
MIKE: [Claire] Not *MY* underwear, it isn't!
> Queen Claire wore a woven white dress that hid her thin body.
MIKE: As dresses are wont to do.
> She'd
>lost a lot of weight in her latest illness, and it showed in her haggard
>face. She did not look like she should be up.
TOM: Overall, just remember: don't get old. And if you must get old, don't.
> "Mother, you should be in bed," Prince Avery whispered as he took
>his usual spot next to her.
MIKE: [Avery] And why do you keep calling me Oedipus?
> "I will not miss this day," the Queen said, back "You can have me
>packed up to bed after we make the announcement."
TOM: Only if he has enough styrofoam peanuts.
> "The Duchess of Castrome and her daughter,
CROW: [Announcer] Princess Bag'o'Hammers! D'OH! I mean...!
> the Lady Hayley," Lord
>Kelsey announced. The door men pulled the rope that opened the siding door
>where most entered the throne room.
MIKE: The siding door - it's attractive, and lasts longer than wood.
CROW: Get a free estimate today at 1-888-SIDINGDOOR! No salesmen will call!
> Prince Avery immediately was drawn to his future wife.
TOM: Her powerful electromagnetic broach worked like a charm.
> Lady Hayley
>was dressed in a deep green gown, and wore a short white cape with the
>crimson Latin cross of Castrome on it.
CROW: The adventures of Feudal Woman!
> She and her mother approached the
>throne. They curtseyed deeply,
TOM: In fact, it was 3 hours before they came up for air.
> Hayley looking directly at him. She had
>beautiful deep blue eyes.
MIKE: You could see the back of her head through them!
> They took their place in the Castrome seats to
>the left of the throne.
CROW: Castrome Convertibles?
> Of the four Dukedoms, Castrome had the closest
>seats to the King in the throne room.
MIKE: Early in the process of national identity-formation, they called
"shotgun".
> Avery decided that it was time he sat
>in his, and crossed in front of his mother and father to sit in his chair,
>just one step down from his parents.
TOM: *gasp* He crossed the thrones!
MIKE: Is that bad?
TOM: Try to imagine all royalty as you know it stopping instantaneously,
and every molecule in your castle exploding at the speed of light.
MIKE: Alright, important safety tip.
> Lord Kelsey was announcing more arrivals. "The Earl of Avtra and
>heir to the Dukedom, Cedric."
CROW: The Original Earl of Comedy.
> "Ah, Earl Cedric," the King said. "May I hope that my former
>minstrel brings this court good news?"
CROW: Yes! Important news on life insurance that no monarch can afford to
be without! You cannot be turned down!
> "Some, your majesty," Cedric said.
MIKE: [Cedric] We *are* getting a PetsMart, but Krispy Kreme still won't
touch us.
> "Our best dragon just flew with
>30 stone. We may have that air force you mentioned sooner than you think.
[pause]
MIKE: If we're getting the Pern Kids Crew in here I'm leaving.
TOM: Not before you pull out my memory modules, you're not.
>And my lady wife is with child."
CROW: His gentlemen wife is still barren, though.
> "I wasn't aware you had wed," the King said.
TOM: [Cedric] Oh really, uh, I'm sure I sent you an invitation... (Under
his breath) Car-keys-car-keys-car-keys!
> "Yes, just five months ago," Cedric said.
MIKE: [Cedric] And she's only three months along. Get your mind out of
the gutter, sire.
> "Perhaps you remember
>Lady Abby of Arlipor?"
MIKE: Angie Harmon!
CROW: No, Stockard Channing!
TOM: Either way - *grrrrrrrwl*!
> "Wasn't that the girl that broke your favorite lute the day before
>you became Earl?" the King asked.
CROW: [Cedric] Yep. I made her marry me!
TOM: [King] You're a cruel, cruel man, Cedric.
> "The same," Cedric replied. "I also have some private communication
>for you and my honored sister-in-law."
MIKE: [Cedric] I'd read it to you now, except it gets kinda randy.
> "Lord Kelsey, reserve some time after court for Earl Cedric," the
>King said. "I look forward to our chat."
TOM: [King] I'll be HunniBunni421 and you can be Born2bone.
> "Lord Edwin of Fishmong..." Lord Kelsey announced
ALL: [bored] Yay.
TOM: [Kelsey] Mr. and Mrs. George W. Grizzwald.
[Everybody cheers excitedly]
> as Avery lost
>attention.
TOM: Quick! Break out the Ritalin!
> He was too busy examining Lady Hayley.
CROW: Subject: Human adolescent female age between 16 and 19. Current
status: bootylicious!
> Hayley wasn't paying
>attention either. She was staring at her feet,
TOM: Trying to remember which one had the "L" written on it.
> while one hand played with
>her golden hair.
CROW: And sucking on a lollipop too, no doubt.
> Avery had built up an image of her in his day dreams when
>he had decided that Lady Hayley was who he wanted.
MIKE: [Avery] Hey, she doesn't look a *thing* like Charlize Theron!
> She didn't disappoint.
TOM: Now, is that the real Lady Hayley, or is that Lady Amidala pretending
to be the servant, or what?
>True her cleavage was slight,
CROW: Aw, man, Noah's gonna be so disappointed.
> and she was rather small, as evidenced by her
>swinging legs, but she had all Avery wanted.
MIKE: Property, power and the brains of a mayonnaise sandwich.
> She was cute. She was Avery's
>age, and she was his.
TOM: o/' You're sixteen - you're beautiful - and you're miiiine! o/`
> With the entry of the last of the observing members of the nobility,
>the Countess of Dunson and her son, Lord Kelsey lifted his ornate staff
CROW: Eww, not in public!
>and pounded it for order. The room quieted.
TOM: [Noble] Well, better listen up, Old Starchy wants to talk.
MIKE: [Noble] Yeah, time for the daily crockpot!
> "Welcome to the Court of Odyssey,
>on this the fourth day of the third month of the twentieth year
TOM: Now add that up, and reduce the answer to shillings and pence.
> in the reign
>of his most tranquil majesty, Richard the First of Ellosia.
CROW: [Kelsey] Let's give it up for King Dicky, and a shout out to his
mad posse!
> Before we take
>up the petitions before the throne, his majesty has ask me to read the
>following proclamation."
MIKE: [Kelsey] *ahem* "His most gracious Majesty, the King, wishes to
inform his loyal subjects of the opportunities available in Amway."
> "To all Lords and Ladies of Ellosia, it gives great pleasure for me
>to announce the engagement of Prince Avery Richard Paul,
TOM: Prince Richard Paul?
CROW: Handle it, Roy. Hannleit, hannleit!
> heir to my throne
>and Earl of Suppor,
MIKE: And baron of between-meal snacks.
> son of our self and our most gracious Queen Claire,
TOM: [Kelsey] We think...
>to Lady Hayley Desiree,
CROW: I think that's actually her porn star name.
> heir to the Dukedom of Castrome and daughter of the
>Duchess of Castrome and Lord Eldon of Avtra, third son of the Duke of Avtra.
CROW: [Kelsey] Pretentious title, pretentious title, unnecessary lineage,
yadda yadda yadda...
TOM: If they get the counting wrong the monarchy's dissolved and they have
to start from scratch.
>The blessed union will occur three weeks from last Sunday.
MIKE: So that would be two weeks from this Sunday and five weeks before
seven Sundays from now.
> We hereby summon
CROW: ...Candyman! Candyman! Ca-
TOM: Crow, no!
>all the ruling Lords of Ellosia to Odyssey for this most scared union.
TOM: [Avery, voice cracking] I-I-I'm not scared! Th-the thought of-of
marriage d-d-d-doesn't scare memememe a b-b-bit!!
>Signed King Richard."
MIKE: A.K.A., Grand Funkmaster Most High.
> Lady Hayley looked up cautiously.
TOM: [Nature documentary] The young female pops quickly out of her hole
and ascertains her surroundings before making any rash movements.
> She was blushing, and everyone
>was looking at her.
CROW: [Hayley] I *knew* I shouldn't have worn these shoes! They make my
feet look so fat!
> Avery stood up. He walked down to his intended bride.
>"My lady, I believe we are wanted on the dais,"
BOTS: o/` On the dais, on the dais - ohohoh, on the dais! Hayley's wanted
on the dais! o/`
MIKE: Okay, if I can't mention Christopher Cross, where do you two get
off with the Falco bits?
CROW: It's a matter of, um, perspective, Mike.
MIKE: "Perspective"?
TOM: It's complex. You wouldn't understand.
> Avery said, reaching out for
>Hayley's hand. She took it and stood.
TOM: And of course she can't shout "NO!", flip over the table, and run out
the door crying. No, *that* might actually be *interesting*!
> Her hand was so soft and small.
MIKE: He actually thought she was Dale.
>Side by side, they walked up the aisle to the throne.
TOM: Nay! They skipped, lighting the world aflame with their transcendent
love!
> As Avery bowed before his parents and Hayley curtsied, the Queen
>collapsed, siding out of her throne and on to the floor.
CROW: There's cheap aluminum everywhere! Oh, the humanity!
> A cry of alarm
>rose up in the room,
MIKE: A shot rang out and the lights darkened. When they were lit again,
somebody lay dead on the floor.
> as the King moved to his wife's side, gently laying her
>out on the dais before the throne. "Send for the Royal Doctor!" the King
>ordered.
MIKE: [Guard] CALLING DR. BOMBAY!
TOM: [Ditto] CALLING DR. BOMBAY!
> Almost before he completed the command the Doctor brust into the
>room from a side door, two men carrying a litter behind him.
TOM: Of course! Puppies will make this all better!
> As the doctor made his way to the Queen's side, he could be heard to
>mutter,
CROW: [Doctor] I bet the HMO won't cover this!
> "I told her she needed to stay in bed, but did she listen to me..."
CROW: [Doctor] Now I suppose they're gonna blame *me* her jaw fell off.
> Avery watched as his mother was placed on the litter.
MIKE: Bad Queen! You go here! Not on the carpet!
> Hayley had
>found her way under his arm,
TOM: Even now, she was turning an interesting shade of green from his
noxious bodily funk.
> and he drew comfort from her steady presence,
CROW: And copped a feel at the same time.
>but he still was worried.
MIKE: [Avery] Jeez, I'm at a major booty call and I'm *still* worried about
my mother. What is wrong with me?
> His father's face was drawn with lines of worry,
TOM: Probably by Frank Miller.
>as the King held his wife's hand. The litter began to leave the throne
>room.
CROW: Wait! Don't forget to separate your recyclables!
> The King looked around the room as he moved as if to follow the
>Queen.
MIKE: [King] If I follow as far as the foyer, I can slip away to Ye
Olde Royal Strippe Clubbe.
> Then he approached his son. "Avery, I know this is a little sudden,
TOM: But get out!
>and you've had no time to prepare," the King began,
CROW: Still, it's gonna count as 20% of your final grade.
> "but I want you to
>handle court today.
MIKE: Sifuentes is out sick, and Kuzak's got too many cases of his own.
> I'm too worried about your mother to make decisions
>today."
CROW: [King] I'm just gonna go back to bed and watch Oprah.
> "Father, what makes you think I'd do any better," Avery replied.
MIKE: [Avery] On the other hand, I could hardly do any worse...
TOM: [King] Hey!
>"She is my mother, and I've never held court before."
TOM: Why not just ask everybody to use their best judgement for eight hours?
CROW: Right. Last time they did that the Duke of Fasstime sold Ellosia for
a set of magic beans.
> "Try for me, Avery," the King said.
TOM: [King] C'mon, don't make me do any actual work here.
> "If you don't feel comfortable
>deciding something, you can have it wait until I can handle it,
CROW: [Townsperson] Your Majesty! A giant monster is attacking and half
the city is on fire! What should we do?
MIKE: [Avery] Hmm, I'd better wait on this one.
> and my
>ministers will give you any advice you need. Chin up, son.
MIKE: [King] That's good. Now, stand up straight. Tummy in. Chest out.
You too, Hayley!
> I'm sure your
>mother will recover."
CROW: [Avery] But her torso just fell off!
MIKE: [King] A minor setback. No biggie.
> Avery looked at his father. The words did not match the worn lines
>of worry etched into his father's face.
MIKE: He's been badly dubbed!
TOM: [Bad Kung Fu movie] Youmyson! You! Must hold court! Inmyplace! *GRUNT!*
> But what could Avery do?
TOM: Well, he could order a pepperoni & sausage pizza.
MIKE: Or prance and gad about like a ninny.
CROW: Or depose Ma & Pa and seize the throne in a vicious, bloody power grab.
> He wasn't
>a doctor, and if he joined is father in pacing outside his mother's room
>he'd only get in the way.
CROW: My sister's cat is more aware than Avery, and the cat keeps walking into
the wall.
> "I hope so, father," Avery said. "I'll try my
>best."
TOM: It took the king 10 minutes to stop chuckling.
> "Thank you, Avery," the King said before turning to hurry to his
>Queen's bedside.
MIKE: [King] Claire? Honey? C'mon, seriously, where'd you hide the key to
the liquor cabinet?
> Avery went over to move his chair, Hayley at his side. "Have you
>ever done this?" he whispered
MIKE: [Hayley] Oh sure, with lots of guy- oh wait, the holding court thing.
CROW: Ahem, Mike?
MIKE: What? Oh all right, I'll put ten bucks into the "Pot Calling the
Kettle Black" jar.
CROW: Fifteen, Mike. You know the rules.
> as he moved it to sit on the step in front of
>the throne.
MIKE: He's using a booster throne?
> Hayley moved her chair, which had been discreetly moved to sit
>beside Avery's on the lower dais. "No," Hayley whispered back. "I've only
>watched in my mother's ducal court."
TOM: Y'know, I'm not even convinced "ducal" is even a word.
CROW: Then why'd you use it in Scrabble yesterday?
> "Same here," Avery said. "Pay much attention?"
CROW: [Hayley] Umm... What?
MIKE: Too bad none of them saw inheriting their parents' kingdoms as a
possibility.
> "No," Hayley replied.
TOM: I remember that we're supposed to give the claimants polearms and
babble about quatloos though.
> "We're in a trouble, aren't we?" Avery said, sitting down.
TOM: [Haley] Bah! How hard can it be?
MIKE: [herald] Sir, first we have two women, both of whom claim to be the
mother of this baby.
CROW: [Avery] Oh poopie!
> Hayley
>sat down next to him, and grabbed his hand, giving him a squeeze of support.
>"Lord Kelsey, we're ready as we'll ever be."
>
CROW: And that's so very sad.
> Clara had nothing to do.
MIKE: Well, if you don't count the away mission, no.
TOM: Let's watch a bored Clara make a foolish mistake with the phaser pistol.
> This wasn't a common event for the young
>girl. She'd checked into a room at the White Dove an hour ago.
CROW: It sings a song just like she's singing - ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh.
> Since then,
>she had lunch and left the Inn to began learning her way around town.
TOM: Now she was beginning to suspect that when the waiter warned about the
"Castrome Two-Step", he wasn't talking about a dance move.
>Waiting around was not something Clara did.
CROW: She waited only in a straight line.
> The sun was shining high in the sky as she made her way through the
>town. The broad cobblestone main streets were mostly empty, under the heat
>of the day.
MIKE: But they do have a nice "Riverwalk" festival every spring.
> Still there were the usual merchants and towns people walking
>around. A city constable, with his black helmet, nodded to Clara as they
>passed each other.
TOM: But except for the merchants and the townsfolk and the cops, it was
just plain empty.
> Tranquil, was the word to describe the city of Odyssey.
CROW: Nyquil, was the thing you drank to live there.
> As she turned the corner, Clara spied a couple familiar forms,
MIKE: It was William Rehnquist and Li'l Kim.
>two sailors, one male, one female.
TOM: Admiral Dewey seen on the town with Princess Serena!
> "Lieutenant Calgary, Marrissa!" she hailed.
ALL: Hail, Clara!
> Both turned to face Clara. "Clara!" Marrissa said, as Clara ran up.
CROW: [Marrissa] We weren't making out! I mean, Hi!
>"I didn't expect to see you for another day or so."
TOM: [Marrissa] In fact, I don't think I'm seeing you now.
> "I just arrived an hour ago," Clara said. "What have you been up to?"
CROW: [Marrissa] The belltower.
TOM: Bdum-dump.
> "She's trying to get herself killed," Calgary said.
TOM: Yeah, and just our luck, it's the one thing she's *not* any good at!
> "In just the
>last hour, she stuck her head into a bell that was about to ring, stepped in
>front of a running rinnebeast, and nearly had her head chopped off when she
>dislodged an ax from a wall display.
MIKE: And we missed it *all*?
> And that's not even counting the harp
>that just missed her when it fell out a third story window."
TOM: The Odyssey Philharmonic! The Galaxy's most feared assassins!
MIKE: [Calgary] Then there was the whole anvil incident, and the time when
she strapped on Acme Rocket Skates and started chasing me around with
a giant magnet.
> "You've got to be kidding," Clara said.
MIKE: Sadly, though, he's not.
> "I remember the bell,
TOM: o/` Ah yes! I remember the bell! o/`
> and the rinnebeast, but as for the harp and
>the ax, I have no idea what he's talking about," Marrissa said.
> "Of course you don't," Calgary said. "You're a nexus of disaster,
CROW: And she doesn't even have Captain Kirk with her.
>totally obvious to the dangers around you.
MIKE: Just like Anna Nicole Smith!
> And I have to be assigned to a
>team with you."
CROW: Yes, you are truly the Buttons to her Mindy.
> "What are you doing, here anyway?" Clara asked. "I thought you'd be
>too busy running the boat."
> "Ship," Marrissa corrected.
TOM: [Clara] Whatever. Is the old tub still floating?
> "Technological assessment. I'm
>supposed to be guarding him while he pokes around for technological
>inconsistencies."
TOM: Seems like it's the other way around.
> "May the Lord have mercy on my soul," Calgary murmured.
CROW: [Basso] If I did, do you think you'd be stuck with her?
> "Then have you seen the Castrome Road Gate?" Clara asked.
TOM: Oh, you mean the one that has the sign that says "Abandon hope all ye
who enter here"?
> "No, we just came from looking at the clockworks on that big church
>over there," Marrissa pointed to the visible towers of the Church of the
>Overflowing Cup.
MIKE: Why do I get the feeling that Bob and Doug McKenzie would be right
at home here?
> "It was a fascinating weight and chain design," Calgary said.
>"In line with technological levels, but also very innovative.
CROW: [Calgary] Who knew you could cram that many hamsters into a clock?
> The automatic
>weight switching and chain looping,
MIKE: That's the secret that helps you tone your muscles while you shed
those extra pounds.
> well I don't think I've ever seen
>anything like it."
> "It was boring," Marrissa said.
CROW: Leave it to Marrissa to deflate anything that could possibly be
interesting.
> "I got more out of the murals.
TOM: She was intrigued by the huge ones reading "SEE ROCK CITY" and "WALL
DRUG, 151.2 LY AHEAD".
>There was this great one of the Last Supper, the artist put real emotions
>into those apostles. It's too bad that part of Matthew is missing, and
>Thomas has a crack going through his face.
MIKE: [Marrissa] And I'm not sure at all what the poker playing dogs are
doing there.
CROW: Should I bother to point out the goofiness of having a painting of
The Last Supper on an alien planet with no ties to Earth?
TOM: Nope.
> Perhaps we should take a look at
>that gate though."
> "Follow me," Clara said, leading them down a broad avenue.
>
TOM: The Kids' Crew hits Sunset Boulevard!
> In the throne room of Odyssey Palace, Lord Kelsey's voice echoed, as
>he called forth the next case.
CROW: Today-ay-ay, I consider myself-self-self, the luckiest lord-ord-ord
on the face of Ellosia-ia-ia!
> "Edward, Baron Darkmore,
TOM: Oh, yeah, he's not a future antagonist. Why not just name him
Baron Evil von Henchling?
> appealing a ruling
>of His Grace, Murdock, the Duke of Avtra."
MIKE: [Kelsey] Something about B.A. not letting him drive the van, I believe.
> "Baron Darkmore, please state your appeal to the Crown,"
CROW: [Baron] Well, I'm tall, and I'm good looking, and I have a great sense
of style...
> Avery
>asked, dredging the formal response out of the depths of his training.
CROW: [deeply] I seek additional funding for my research into the dark
arts. Muah-ha-ha!
> "Your Highness, I wish to appeal the order of His Grace, the Duke of
>Avtra to move the guard post of my ancestors
MIKE: That guardpost has been passed down from father to son!
> along the Lake of Galilee -
>Janna Bay Road," the Baron said.
ALL: Galilee?
CROW: Ratliff's making a story out of five loaves and two fishes.
> "To move it would do a great disservice to
>the travelers along that road,
TOM: Where else can you get Premium Unleaded for only $1.26-9?
> and would break the sacred duty which my
>ancestors have preformed for centuries along this road."
CROW: Namely, shaking down unsuspecting peasants.
TOM: Plus, the Stuckey's next door will probably have to go out of
business, so where would people get their pecan candy then?
> "Hmmm, and who speaks for the Duke in this matter?" Avery asked.
MIKE: Wasn't it usually Ward Bond or Walter Brennan?
> Cedric stood, and approached the throne. "I do," he said.
CROW: [Avery] I now pronounce you sissy minstrel and wormy duke.
You may kiss the noble.
> "Earl Cedric, please state the reason for moving this post of long
>establishment," Avery said.
TOM: The Vogons want to build a highway.
> "My Lord Prince, the reasons for the movement of this post are
>many," Cedric said.
CROW: [Cedric] Tectonic plates, planetary rotation, the spin of the
galaxy, you name it!
> "Perhaps first and foremost is that we are also
>relocating that stretch of road. The construction of the Galilee Janna Bay
>Canal has almost reached that location,
MIKE: And Israel's already annexed it.
> and the road is the path which the
>canal will take. Second, we wish for a post to guard a spring along the new
>road."
CROW: [Springy] NOOOOOOOO SPRINGS! *cuckoo*
TOM: Hey! Stephen did a "Ranma" joke earlier, now he's talking about a
spring - you know what this means? Before we're done, Marrissa's
gonna get turned into a panda!
> "Earl Cedric, will the building of the canal require you to take
>down this guard post?" Avery asked.
TOM: [Reagan] Mr. Gorbachev, take down this Guardpost!
> "No, the guard post is on a hill," Cedric said.
MIKE: You laugh, but this same squabbling goes on over where to post
mall cops.
> "However, it will
>be unable to access the road once the canal is complete, rendering it
>useless as a guard for the road. That is why my Father ordered it moved."
CROW: Thrill as the spine-tingling, heart-stopping, guardpost-relocating
action never lets up!
> "Baron Darkmore, do you have any response to the Earl of Avtra's
>reasoning," Avery asked.
TOM: [Baron] He's a big boogerhead.
> "No, you highness," the Baron replied.
CROW: And they couldn't have talked this over before schlepping up here
and wasting everyone's time?!? Sheesh!
> Avery was going to simply find for the Duke of Avtra, when suddenly
>he heard one of his father's favorite quotes.
MIKE: "Today, I do not want to hear about fur-bearing trout." - Robert
Benchley.
> "The best solution to a
>dispute is one which both sides win."
TOM: Ah, an Olympics ice-skating judge.
> "Earl Cedric is this post about half way between your border and
>Lake Galilee?" Avery asked.
CROW: [Cedric] Closer to Mt. Sinai, sir.
> "Close to, your highness, but only about a third of the total length
>of the canal from Lake Galilee," Earl Cedric said.
TOM: Uuuuh - huh?
CROW: Pert near.
TOM: Ah.
> "We plan to have the
>half way post closer to the current border."
TOM: See adjacent map, not enclosed for clarity.
CROW: Mike, will you kill me?
MIKE: Only if you kill me first.
CROW: How will that work?
MIKE: It won't. So shut up and read the story.
> Avery looked over at Lady Hayley, and whispered,
CROW: [Avery] Ix-ney on the footsies, dollface - I can't concentrate on
Dull and Duller over there!
> "How likely is it
>for Duke Murdock to get a border adjustment for the canal."
MIKE: Aw, you know he hates to go to the doctor!
> "Mother says that Grandfather will only get it over her dead body,"
>Hayley whispered back.
CROW: [Avery, whispering] Really? Because I know some people...
> "Does she have an objection to the canal itself?" Avery asked,
>suddenly concerned.
TOM: [Hayley] Yeah, it clashes with her steam train.
> "She wants the canal," Hayley replied. "She just wants to control
>the end point.
CROW: Oh, yeah, type A personality.
> Castrome needs the trade."
> "Earl Cedric, Baron Darkmore," Avery said, raising his voice so it
>could be heard. "I have made a decision.
MIKE: [Avery] I feel like chicken tonight!
> Baron Darkmore, you will hand
>over the control the guard post in question during the construction of the
>canal.
CROW: Oh, now he's gonna staff it with a bunch of teamsters, I bet.
TOM: Hey, a campaign promise is a campaign promise, y'know.
> Earl Cedric, inform your father that it is our wish that this post
>be made into one of the canal guard posts, and that the Baron be the first
>choice to run this guard post when the canal is completed.
TOM: [irritated] Look, I appreciate a good canal/guard post/real estate
confrontation as much as the next bot, but *is there a frickin'
point to all this*?!?
MIKE: Let me put it this way - no.
> Baron, I hope to
>be there when this canal is opened,
MIKE: [Avery] But you know how hard it is to find giant novelty scissors.
> and take a meal at your historic guard
>post,
CROW: [Avery] And it better not be a stinking Happy Meal, like *last* time!
> as my Father did at the mid post of the Avtra Honalee Canal when it
>opened."
[All snicker]
TOM: That must have been during the reign of Baron Jackie Paper.
> "Thank you, your highness," Baron Darkmore said.
MIKE: [Baron, muttering] Thanks a lot, ya little snot-nose-
CROW: [Avery] What was that?
MIKE: Nothing! Nothing, your great and powerful highness! Heh!
> "Lord Kelsey, next case please," Avery said, with newly acquired
>confidence.
>
TOM: Next we have a Mrs. Julie Andrews verses a Mr. Christopher Plummer...
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
-- Stephen Ratliff is the next case?
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco.
MIKE: Well, there goes the Rolling Stones' career.
> Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO."
CROW: Oh, well you've never tried those Little Debbie snack cakes, then!
> ~ Greywolf
>
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-06!supernews.com!newsfeed.wirehub.nl!news-
>out.visi.com!hermes.visi.com!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>31600fab!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenbratliff@earthlink.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 7/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
TOM: 7/16! Seven of Nine's shy, bucktoothed cousin!
>Message-ID: <0ku5fug8c30tnij18tituf6qr62l889qvv@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
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>Date: Tue, 28 May 2002 03:51:14 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 67.208.131.246
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
CROW: [writing] Abuse at earth...
MIKE: I don't think that'll work for us.
>X-Trace: newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1022557874 67.208.131.246 (Mon,
>27 May 2002 20:51:14 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 27 May 2002 20:51:14 PDT
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:159245
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 7/16 Serialized Biweekly
TOM: The Perils of Pauline!
CROW: Commander Cody!
MIKE: Six Gun Justice!
TOM: The Kooky Antics of Martin Sussex!
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: You know, when Hollywood gets around to filming this, it'll be a teen
sex comedy set in Victorian England starring Nelly and Dame Judi Dench.
>Chapter Six: Sewers and Siblings.
>
CROW: Or, "Dinner With the Kennedy Family".
> Prince Avery was pacing outside his mother's rooms.
MIKE: I don't want to say Prince Avery's fat, but when he paces around
the rooms, he paces *around* the rooms!
>The doctor was still attending to the Queen, and only his father had
>been let inside.
TOM: [Bouncer] Hey, you're not on the list.
MIKE: [Avery] But I'm the prince!
TOM: [Bouncer] You're breakin' my heart. Beat it 'fore I bust your
kneecaps!
> He was worried about his mother. She had been so weak
>and sick lately. He did not want to lose her.
CROW: Which is why he had the tracking chip implanted in her skull.
> So he paced, waiting
>for any news, never straying far from the door.
TOM: Hanging around, pestering everyone, making a nuisance of himself.
> "Avery, could you sit down and stop pacing?" Lady Hayley said,
>from her seat on the bench next to the door.
MIKE: [Hayley] You're making me even dizzier than I normally am!
> "I think you've torn a
>hole in the carpet already."
> Avery looked down, to discover that where he had been turning
>there was a small rip in the carpet.
CROW: It's kooky 'cause it's minor wear and tear!
> "Oh boy, another hole in carpet,
TOM: Well, it matches the one in the plot.
>and this time I can't blame it on my little sister."
MIKE: There's the "random street mugging" form of delivering exposition
we love from Stephen!
> "Little sister? How come I haven't seen Princess Brittany?"
>Lady Hayley asked.
CROW: She's been moping around her room ever since she broke up with
Count Justin of Timberlake!
> "She should have been at court, shouldn't she
>have?"
> "Britt hasn't attend court in two years," Avery said.
TOM: Oops. She *didn't* do it again.
>She's off at Arm studying swordsmanship and tactics under Duke Nolan.
TOM: He's also teaching her how to throw a wicked fastball.
>Perhaps you saw Squire Brett when the Duke visited your mother's court
>a couple months ago?"
MIKE: [Hayley] No, but I saw Brett Somers on a "Match Game 74" rerun
a few days ago. Does that help?
> "That was her?" Hayley responded. "I never would have
>guessed."
TOM: [Hollywood Squares fanfare] BadaDAHdadaDAHdahdahdahDATdahdahDAaaaah!
MIKE: Brett's the Secret Squire! She's good for a trip to Mexico!
> "She's got Father wrapped around her little finger," Avery
>said, sitting down beside Hayley.
TOM: Must be some kinda new chiropractic therapy.
> "When I started sword lessons at
>eight, she started a week after me, even though she was only seven.
CROW: She even started shaving a week after I did!
>Britt wants to do everything I do, and do it better if possible.
MIKE: Either Marrissa's found a kindred spirit, or she'll have to kill
her as a rival for power.
>And she's really pretty good, though not as good as I am.
CROW: The story's message: Hard work and determination are no match
for slackish meandering.
> Father
>encouraged her, much to the court's dismay. Especially after she
>started to wear her sword to court.
TOM: She was cited for contempt 29 times in 3 hours.
> Then Father asked her what she
>wanted for her twelfth birthday.
MIKE: She wanted a starship.
> When she replied to be a knight,
>they came up with a plan for her to pose as a boy, and she's been
>living at Arm since."
MIKE: Well, you gotta hand it to her.
TOM: Yep, she's got her finger on the pulse of the nation.
CROW: And she's not gonna knuckle under.
> "Does Duke Nolan know?" Hayley asked.
TOM: I hope so. They've been married since she was eight!
> "Yes," Avery replied. "Britt thinks the Duke is giving her
>too many favors. Especially after she was made his personal squire.
MIKE: [Avery] She keeps complaining that he makes her sleep in her
uniform. With him. Not sure why she mentioned that...
TOM: It's TWO! TWO! Two kinks in one!
>I'll have to let you read her letter after she got that post. Father
>was quite amused by it.
CROW: [Avery] Course, Dad's amused by "Jackass", too, so...
> Especially since she complained about all the
>work just a paragraph later."
MIKE: [Avery] She keeps complaining about having to work with someone
called "Filthy Sanchez".
> The door to the queen's rooms slid open, revealing the King.
CROW: Wearing the Queen's robes.
>Prince Avery and Lady Hayley stood immediately, Lady Hayley offering a
>curtsy.
TOM: [Hayley] Have a curtsy, sir?
MIKE: [King] No thanks! I've just had twelve.
> "Hayley, you're almost family now,
TOM: [King] Seeing as how you have no choice but to marry my son
and all!
> you can stop doing that
>outside of public functions," the King said.
CROW: [King] Around here, you prostrate yourself. Now hop to!
> "Can I see Mother, now, Father?" Avery asked.
TOM: [King] No, we're seeing what happens if we put her in the
cloaking device.
> "The Doctor has ordered her to rest, but you can talk to her
>after dinner, Avery," the King replied. "Walk with me."
MIKE: If I could walk that way I wouldn't *need* a doctor.
> Hayley
>remained by the door, as Avery moved to follow his father. "You too,
>Hayley. So, Avery, how was court?"
TOM: [Enthused] It was great fun! I had everyone put to death!
> "Lots of work," Avery replied. "I hope I wasn't overstepping
>my bounds when I made a few decisions, Father."
MIKE: Well, he kinda told you to, kid.
TOM: [King] After I told you to run things, you go and run things!
You're no son of mine!
> "Aside from perhaps the Avtra case, there wasn't too much you
>could do wrong, Avery," the King said.
CROW: [King] You really *blew* that Avtra case, by the way.
> "I won't second guess your
>decisions.
MIKE: [King] I'll just countermand them behind your back.
> So, how did you solve that case?"
CROW: Shaggy pulled off the Baron's mask and showed us he was really
old Mr. Vernon from the mill.
TOM: Jeepers.
> "I told the Baron that the move was temporary,
CROW: And Baron von Dumbkowski bought it.
> and ordered the
>Earl to put the Baron on the top of the list for the guard post when
>the canal opens in about twenty years," Avery said.
MIKE: That's working things out ahead of schedule.
CROW: They learned their lesson from dealing with their Y2C problem.
> "I also had it
>designated as the mid point guard post, as it is about the mid point,
>if you only count the length inside Avtra."
TOM: "Law and Order: Special Guardpost Measuring Unit".
> "That canal could be trouble down the road," the King said.
>"Watch in carefully.
CROW: [King] Measure it every day. Set up guardposts every three feet
if you have to!
> Avtra and Castrome have nearly gone to war
>several times over lesser problems."
MIKE: Yeah, remember that one border incident?
CROW: The one caused by the softball through Mrs. Callaghan's window?
TOM: Or the one because of the armadillos?
MIKE: I was thinking about the time that one guy forgot to tape "24".
TOM: Oh, yeah. Boy, that was a bad one, wasn't it?
> "I know Father," Avery said as they reached his father's
>office.
CROW: [Avery] I read the Cliff Notes.
> The King unlocked the door, and proceeded them in. Avery once
>had dreaded his father's office. It was painted black,
TOM: What, without even *seeing* a red door?!
> even the
>ceiling, with a silver pattern on the wall, and irregular outline that
>Avery had tried to find a pattern in, when ever he was waiting for his
>father's punishment.
MIKE: Oh, that's just the outlines of all the crewmen who tried to stop
him that he had vaporized.
CROW: Yeah, pay it no mind.
> In the center was his father's heavy dark wood
>desk. It was one of the few things that had made it's way to Odyssey
>when the Capital had moved from Verifor.
MIKE: Wow, sentient, self-propelled furniture. No wonder York decided
to stick around.
> His father took his place
>behind the desk, and Avery and Hayley sank into the comfortable chairs
>on the other side.
TOM: They proceeded to pull out their handy-dandy notebooks and
crayons.
> You could tell how the conversation was going to
>go by which chairs were in the room.
CROW: They got a guy, Gary, full-time on the castle payroll - does
nothing but move chairs around all day.
> Avery was fairly sure that he
>wasn't going to be chewed out.
CROW: However, beatings, torture, and wedgies were still an option.
> "Avery, the doctor has given your mother a month to live,"
TOM: [King] And a bill for $5000.
> "No!" Avery exclaimed, standing up.
CROW: [Avery] We can't afford $5000!
TOM: [King] That's okay, he'll give her another month.
> "You can't let this
>happen!"
CROW: [King] Oh, like it's *my* fault.
> "Sit down," the King ordered. "Despite what you may think,
>people don't have to go to me for permission to die,
MIKE: That's what HMO's are for!
> and I can't stop
>death.
CROW: That's *my* domain.
MIKE: No it isn't.
CROW: Well it *should* be.
> There is nothing I can do about your mother's health, save
>getting the best doctors Ellosia has,
CROW: They insist on only the *finest* quality leeches!
> and insisting that she rest.
MIKE: [King] And scope out replacements.
>You know how hard it is to get her to rest, and as for the best
>doctors,
TOM: [King] You can hang *that* up!
> there is only one in Ellosia better than Doctor Anderson, and
>that's your Mother. She can't treat herself."
MIKE: Why not? This isn't Earth! Hippocratic Oath, Schmippocratic
Oath!
CROW: Yeah, who do you think she is, Abigail Bartlet?
> "If it weren't for you stupid Prime Directive, she would be
>well already," Avery said.
TOM: [Avery] And we'd have a space program and cable and I'd have a Beemer!
> "Perhaps, perhaps not," the King said. "There is no sense
>second guessing decisions made before your were born.
CROW: That kind of attitude could put soc.history.what-if out of business.
> You just have
>to live with the consequences.
MIKE: Yes, if it's an old, ill-informed decision with life-threatening
consequences, it can't possibly be wrong.
TOM: Changing things? That's for suckers and wussies!
> Your mother wants to see you married,
>and I intend to do everything possible to make sure she does.
CROW: [King] I had cable installed, and I've sold broadcast rights to E!
>Therefore, I'm moving up your wedding to nine days from now.
>I realize that's a short time to prepare for the rest of your life,
>Avery, Hayley, but it's the time you've been given.
TOM: They're gonna plan a whole royal wedding in nine days?! Give me
a break! That's not even enough time to pick out the flowers!
MIKE: Well, it helps move things along when your monarchy is absolute.
> Now if you'll
>excuse me, I'm expecting the Ambassador from Dinath."
TOM: That'll be a tough delivery.
> Avery and Hayley took that dismissal, and exited the room,
>passing by a servant bringing in one of the hard straight backed
>chairs.
CROW: Once again, ladies and gentlemen - Gary!
[All applaud]
> Avery nearly ran into the servant, his fists balled in
>frustration and anger
>
MIKE: [Avery] Stupid old man! Who died and made him king? Oh, wait...
> Later in the week, Marrissa and Calgary left the Golden
>Rinnebeast through the back exit.
TOM: Hair tousled, uniforms askew...
> By that door was a sewer access, a
>rough wooden board in a square metal frame. Calgary lifted it,
>revealing a ten foot drop to a shallow stream of sewage.
CROW: The world's worst Bungee Jumping exhibition!
> A ladder ran
>down one side, so they'd be able to come back up this way.
MIKE: Or even go down that way, if they wanted.
TOM: On the same ladder? No way!
> "Now let me get this straight, we're going to follow the sewer
>to it's source to try to find how they're handling it," Marrissa said.
TOM: With gloves, I hope! Yuck!
> "Yes, if they're using the Odyssey's waste extraction systems,
>we've got a Prime Directive violation.
MIKE: I don't want to say the city has a sewage problem, but when they
used the starship's plasma venting coils, they *really* used the
plasma venting coils!
BOTS: Huh?
MIKE: Uh - um - oh, look! Words!
> So far," Calgary said. "I
>haven't found any major ones,
TOM: Apart from taking over the country.
> and the minor differences are well
>within the expected variations in technical development."
MIKE: [Calgary] Although I still wonder about that holodeck they built
out of straw and tar.
> "Okay, I've got the lights, so as soon as I take off my pants,
>we'll get going," Marrissa said,
CROW: Oh, well sure, you gotta - tha hell?!?
> pulling off her pants,
TOM: [Calgary] Marrissa, are you sure? I mean we just met.
CROW: Mike? We're not getting the setup for a scene where Marrissa
becomes a woman, are we?
MIKE: I certainly hope not.
> leaving her
>only clad in her tunic, which went down just far enough to be decent,
>barely.
CROW: Now she's ready for her "Maxim" cover shoot.
> "I'm not going get sewage stains on my pants, if I can help it."
TOM: [Marrissa] I'll just cake my bare legs in it up to my thighs.
CROW: [Marrissa] And now that I think about it, this bra is itching me
something awful!
MIKE: Crow!
CROW: Stephen started it!
MIKE: Yes but... but... well... *sigh* I don't guess I can argue with you
there.
> "I'd be more worried about what comes from above," Calgary
>said, putting his tunic beside her pants.
CROW: So, is he going to be doing handstands through the sewage?
MIKE: Steve's plot is running through non-Euclidean space here.
> "I'll go first, and then
>you can hand the lamps down to me."
>
CROW: [Calgary] Then the end tables, then the area rug.
TOM: Uh, considering the fact that they're shucking off all their
clothes, I'd avoid using the word "area" for a while.
> Captain Lord Trevor had Castrome Point in his sight.
CROW: The time was approaching. Soon, the ferrets would be unleashed!
> Once he
>was beyond that, Castromepor would be just an hour away, and in clear
>view.
MIKE: It's the Thruway Rest Stop of Castrome.
> His vessel was traveling at full sail, a good knot above the
>speed most of the other vessels in the Ellosian Navy were capable of.
TOM: "Snail's Pace", as opposed to "Molasses Uphill".
>Below the Ellosian Ensign he flew his family's standard, modified with
>his Captain's knots.
CROW: [Kevin Meaney] Running junior officers up the flagpole! That's
just not right!
> He was proud of his new rank, and the trust he
>had been shown by being given this important assignment.
CROW: I'm proud of my new rank!
MIKE: I'm proud of the trust I'm shown!
TOM: And he thinks about this constantly.
> If at all
>possible, he was going to bring his friend Avery's future
>sister-in-laws back to Odyssey in record time.
>
TOM: *snicker*
MIKE: [Avery] Captain, I have a very critical assignment for you -
give my in-laws a lift, will ya?
TOM: And this episode of "Pointless Interlude Theater" comes to
a close.
> Avery had just come from seeing his mother again.
MIKE: [Avery] Boy, all she ever does is nag nag nag!
> The Queen
>seemed to sink into her bed, looking so thin and frail, not at all
>like the vibrant and active mother of his childhood.
TOM: Like he can remember that far back anyway.
> It disturbed
>him, so he was planning to try to put it out of his mind.
TOM: [Avery] Mom who?
MIKE: It didn't help that folks kept saying mommy wouldn't be dying on
him if he were a better boy.
>He'd stopped briefly at his rooms to put on some older clothes,
>before heading to the stables.
TOM: [Avery] I'll go terrorize the peons. That always cheers me up!
> As usual, he used one of the security poles
>to descend down the one floor to the stables.
[Laughter]
CROW: He arrived fully attired in his Batman outfit.
MIKE: The King must have built this castle based on the designs of
his dream treehouse.
> As he strode away from
>the pole, he heard a cry of pain behind him.
TOM: Oops, there goes little Bonnie Blue Butler.
> He turned around to see his intended sprawled at the base of
>the pole, grimacing. "Are you okay?" he asked, moving to her side.
CROW: [Hayley] Yeah, I just like to fall and clutch my guts randomly
from time to time. Keeps life interesting.
> "I think so," Hayley replied, accepting Avery's assistance to
>stand. "I've never done that before."
MIKE: [Hayley] I think it's the thought of marrying you!
> "It takes practice," Avery said.
CROW: [Python] Hold your head more like this - Waah! Waah!
> "I'm really not supposed to
>use the poles.
TOM: [Avery] Cowznofksy and Stankeiwicz get upset easily.
> They're for the guards, but it's a lot faster to use
>this one to get to the stables. So where are you heading?"
MIKE: No place in particular.
CROW: Man, I wish I was you!
> Hayley blushed, and said, "I was just following you in hopes
>that you'd get back to a part of the Palace that I know."
CROW: [Hayley] Is this the part Mickey Mouse lives in?
> "Well, I can have the stable manager take you to any place you
>need to go," Avery said. "Or you can join me in my mid-morning ride."
TOM: [Hayley, calling out] Stable manager! Stable manager!
> "I can?" Hayley said. "We don't have round up some major
>guard detachment first?"
MIKE: Sure, *they* go off riding their lizards, while the poor guards
stay behind and spray the castle's weeds!
TOM: Well, it's part of their job duties, Mike - to serve, protect and
defoliate.
> "I think they gave up on that a couple years ago," Avery said.
CROW: I see "Operation Get Rid of the Idiot Heir" is proceeding along.
>"I just have to have my sword, and my fast rinnebeast."
>
MIKE: [Avery] And my posse of doe-eyed nympho maids. Say hi, girls!
BOTS: [Maids] OHAIYO!!!
> In the dungeon of Odyssey Palace, Jean-Luc Picard and his wife
>were finally getting a visitor.
MIKE: [Picard] All right, all right, we *should* have expected the
Spanish Inquisition!
> Lord Harlan had just arrived and
>dismissed the guard.
TOM: they contribute nothing to the plot, so they're easily dismissed.
> "Lieutenant Harlan Foster, I hope you've come to release us,"
>Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [Harlan] Yes, but first you have to admit my script was better
than Roddenberry's.
> "It's Lord Harlan now," he said.
TOM: Oddly, this is an exact quote from Ellison.
> "And what makes you think
>I'd release one of the biggest threats to my King."
MIKE: [Picard] How about a fresh, crisp, brand new dollar bill, hmm?
CROW: [Harlan] You guys don't use money any more!
MIKE: [Picard] Blast!
> "My threat to your King, who I believe is Captain Richard
>York, the last known Captain of the starship Odyssey, depends on his
>actions in the last twenty years," Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [Picard] For example, how are his Amway sales going?
> "Your actions
>indicate that the likelihood of a court-martial is quite high."
TOM: Yeah, *that's* gonna convince him to let you go! Good job,
Captain Sack-of-Lugnuts!
CROW: Jean-Luc appears to be using the "Please Kill Me, You
Insufferable Clod" defense.
MIKE: He's the kinda guy who thinks yelling at the waitress helps.
> "And the likelihood of you being executed for treason is even
>higher," Harlan said.
MIKE: Vegas has it at 7-5.
> "I find that quite unlikely, Lieutenant," Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [Picard] Look you moron! We can't be charged with treason!
We're not citizens! We'd be charged with spying, not treason!
TOM: [Harlan] Fine! You're spies! Thanks for confessing! GUARDS!
CROW: [Picard] Oh, poopie!
> "As long as you're in my jail, it's my odds that count,"
TOM: Ah! Nice to see that the Mob still has influence in the future!
>Harlan said. "Now how many people do you have in Ellosia?"
CROW: Well, there's Stinky, and Rey-Rey, and Big Bertha...
MIKE: And Condor, and The Kid, and Old Man Carruthers...
TOM: And Roxie, and No-Nose, and Joey the Match...
> "Just the usual for the situation," Jean-Luc replied, laying
>back on his bunk.
MIKE: [Picard] Plus my compliment of demon ninjas. Say hi, fellas!
BOTS: [Ninjas] WASSAAAAABI!!!
> "Let's see if I remember regulations...
TOM: Since you've promoted yourself from "Lieutenant" to "Lord", my
guess is that you don't.
> ah yes," Harlan began.
>"A Prime Directive investigation team must include of the Chief of
>Security, the Chief Engineer, and the First Officer, and be lead by
>the Captain.
CROW: So basically, the entire senior staff of a starship goes on a
probably dangerous, possibly life-threatening missions BY RULE?
MIKE: Need a way to put all your command crew in jeopardy? Use
Regulations!
> So, I've got at least 3 more people to track down, since
>I doubt that Jack Crusher's wife would be anything other than Chief
>Medical Officer."
CROW: She might be the ship's dancing instructor, you know.
TOM: Aaah, women don't need multifaceted personalities anyway.
> "Jack died almost seventeen years ago," Beverly said.
>"Jean-Luc and I married last year."
MIKE: Yes, just rule out suspects so that the bad guy doesn't have to
look for them. Good job, Bev.
> "I'm sorry to hear about that," Harlan said.
CROW: [Beverly] Jack wasn't real thrilled about it, either.
> "Jack was a good
>officer. I remember him from the Fleet meetings during the Cardassian
>War. I assume that's over with?"
MIKE: [Picard] Yep. We lost. The name's "Gul Picard" now, by the way.
> "We had a cease fire about a year after the Odyssey
>disappeared," Jean-Luc said. "The formal treaty was signed five years
>ago."
TOM: And then broken again during that pesky war.
> "It sure took them a long time," Harlan said.
TOM: What is this? They go from a heated confrontation to small talk?
MIKE: Once again, Ratliff narrowly averts tension!
> "You know how long some diplomatic negotiations can take,"
>Picard said.
CROW: [muttering] Almost as long as this scene!
> "Ambassador Sarek's work with the Legerans took 93 years
>to complete. In the case of the Cardassians, I think we were quite
>lucky."
MIKE: Maybe you were unlucky both times. Couldn't that be the case?
> "You may say you're lucky with the Cardassians, but I don't
>think I am," Harlan said.
TOM: He's bitter because the Cardassians stood him up on a date.
> "After all, because of them we've spent 20
>years trying not to break the rules on this planet.
CROW: And doing a piss-poor job of it, too!
> I don't even know
>what happened to my little sister who was just joining Star Fleet."
TOM: She died a horrible, screaming death. What, you didn't get the
telegram we sent?
> "She's the new Captain of the Venture," Jean-Luc said.
TOM: [Picard] That's a Ferengi garbage scow, by the way. She got kicked
out of the fleet after the Jell-O incident.
>Do you have any family here in Ellosia?"
CROW: [Harlan, sniffling] This - *This* is my family now!
MIKE: [Bester] The Corps is mother. The Corps is father.
> "No," Harlan said. "My job as Chief of Intelligence doesn't
>let me have the time to have a family.
TOM: [Harlan] I tried having a second cousin once, but it just didn't
work out.
> Not that the Queen hasn't
>tried to match me up with a promising young girl."
>
>
CROW: Her Most Royal Yentaness!
CROW: And the scene ends here - why?
MIKE: Why not? As long as it ends.
> Marrissa put another crystal in the waters of the lamp
MIKE: Crystal Waters?
TOM: o/` She put it back in the middle and round again... o/`
>before replacing the stopper. The sewers seemed to go on forever.
CROW: [Marrissa] Just because I'm Marrissa doesn't mean I have to
smell poo-gas!
> She hoped
>she had enough crystals for the glowing water lamps.
MIKE: Fuel? Nah. Better put some kryptonite in instead.
> Up ahead, she
>thought she heard someone talking.
>
TOM: Sewer Urchin!
CROW: [Urchin] Uh-oh. Trouble. Definitely, definitely trouble.
> Captain Lord Trevor passed Castrome Point, his sails full, as
>he caught the coming tide on the mouth of the Castrome. Two ships
>were moored next to the point, with their guns run out.
TOM: They'll never get his cargo load of supporting characters!
> The town of
>Castromepor was now in view. The majestic spires of Saint Ignatius
>stood visible above the town's red walled battlements.
CROW: Right next to them stood the stately Golden Arches of Lord Ronald.
> Most of the
>fleet that regularly anchored at her docks were gone, but the jewel of
>Ellosia's ports still sported several merchants and ships under
>construction,
MIKE: Repealing the luxury tax sure boosted the economy.
> including the Victorious, a ship of the line in the
>final stage of construction.
> "Mister Bracegirdle,
[All snicker]
MIKE: Bracegirdle's out today, sir. I'm his sub, Ensign Jockbuckle!
TOM: *That's* a really unfortunate name!
CROW: It's not as bad as his uncle, Lord Trussscaffold.
> weigh anchor and ready the ship's boat,"
TOM: And get the car's auto warmed up, too.
>Captain Treavor ordered. "I intend to make this a quick stop, so no
>shore leaves."
CROW: [Trevor] And if there's time, maybe I'll get a tape from
Blockbuster. *But no promises*!
> "Aye sir," Bracegirdle said. "Furl the sails!
MIKE: Mop the poopdeck! Batten down the hatches!
CROW: They're battened, sir!
MIKE: Well, batten'm down again - we'll teach those hatches!
> Prepare to
>weigh anchor!"
>
TOM: [Bracegirdle] 55 pounds, sir!
CROW: Goodbye characters we know nothing about!
> Marrissa and Calgary pressed themselves up against the side of
>the sewer tunnel
MIKE: Now they're sorry they wore their Armani tunics.
> as the voices got closer, covering their lamps.
CROW: They were really dark, heavy voices.
> "This is really an undignified way to enter the city,
>Sargent," one voice said.
TOM: It's Sargent versus York, in the Ultimate Darren Battle!
> "It is the only real way that someone of your stature can
>enter the city without being spotted, your grace," the Sargent
>replied.
MIKE: Or you could pretend to be a wandering morris dancer!
CROW: That was an old Three's Company episode.
> "Let alone sneak in the large numbers of troops your
>require."
CROW: They're invading via the *sewer*!?
TOM: Their brilliant plan is foiled when Mrs. Willoughby calls in
Dave the Plumber.
> "Personal guards, Sargent," the first voice replied.
MIKE: [Sergeant] Yeah, call 'em whatever you want, they still smell like
an Exxon restroom at this point!
> "Yes my lord," the Sargent said as the light of their lamps
>began to show around the turn.
>
TOM: Well forget about that, let's go onto something else, shall we?
> Captain Lord Trevor paused at the entry to Castrome Villa to
>show his orders to the guard.
CROW: [Trevor] Remember, 3 of them have no onions, and supersize the
one for the king.
> Despite the fact that the Royal Family
>was rarely in residence there, a rather large compliment of guards
>were posted at the fortified compound.
TOM: The orders to never open the basement doors or to ignore the
screams confused a great number of them.
> The black and scarlet guards
>had probably never seen the King,
CROW: [Clark Gable] Frankly, scarlet guard, I don't give a damn!
> Prince Avery was a more frequent
>visitor.
MIKE: To the guard's delight, however, the doe-eyed nympho maids were
there daily.
BOTS: [Maids] OHAIYO!!!
> It took only a couple minutes for the guards to verify the
>Captain's orders
TOM: [gruff] Yeah, that's right - *three* with no onions!
> and escort him to the quarters of Lady Lea and Lady
>Whitney.
CROW: Lea Thompson and Whitney Houston star in "Bodyguard in the City".
> Trevor was surprised to find the young girls being visited
>by their father, Lord Elden, the Ducal Consort of Castrome.
TOM: Royalty? Being around their children? I'm surprised as well.
> "Lord Trevor, what brings you to Castromepor," Elden said.
CROW: [Trevor] A big honking boat, your Ducalshipness.
>"I thought the Godspeed was posted off the coast of Armedge."
MIKE: It was a longwinded era, but you were never short on exposition.
> "I have orders from the King to transport your daughters to
>Odyssey," Trevor said. "If you'd like to see them?"
MIKE: [Elden] I can see my daughters just fine, but thanks for asking.
> "No need," Elden said. "Desiree told me to expect them before
>she set off for Odyssey. I assume you wish to travel light?"
CROW: Who says he can't ride a rainbow?
> "I'd wish to, but I expect that young ladies of your
>daughters' eminence require a considerable accompaniment," Trevor
>replied.
CROW: Girls! Pack the piano! He expects it!
TOM: Hundreds of trunkloads of Lip Gloss, unicorn posters and N*Sync
CDs are already standing by.
> "I know the Godspeed, Captain," Elden said. "So I'll just
>send along Whitney's nanny.
CROW: [Fran Drescher] Oooh, Mistah Sheffield, hahahahahah!!!
> Lea can do without a tutor for a while.
TOM: [Elden] Yeah, it's not like she can get any stupider. Can she?
>And we'll keep the luggage down to a chest of clothes."
MIKE: [Whitney] I only need the one trunk of clothes - oh, and my
troop of male strippers. Say hello, boys.
BOTS: [Strippers] WAZAAAAAAAP!!!
> "Goodie!" Lea said.
> "Lea just started her schooling," Elden said. "We can't
>afford ignorance in the person second in line for Castrome.
MIKE: [Elden] Of course, I've done okay, and I'm dumber than a
box of wet gophers.
>I'm afraid she hasn't taken to her studies."
TOM: Well, she *is* still two.
> "There is still time," Trevor said. "I wasn't very taken with
>my studies at first."
CROW: [Trevor] I was voted "Most Likely to Eat Paint Chips for a Living".
> "I heard," Elden said. "Your father has been trading stories
>with me.
MIKE: [Elden] So you thought if you put mud in the oven it would turn
into food? Man, are you a doorknob!
CROW: [Trevor] C'mon, I was FOUR!
> Tell me, what ever possessed you to replace your tutor's
>water with yellowberry wine?
TOM: And just what kind of slack-jawed mouthbreather doesn't notice?
> "I heard he was more entertaining drunk," Trevor said. "How
>soon can your daughters be aboard the Godspeed?"
CROW: [Elden] I can have 'em loaded in the catapult in two minutes!
You, uh, you still got that net on board?
> "The chest is already packed,
TOM: [Trevor] Yes, yes, I've met the nanny already!
> so as soon as you're ready,
>we'll head down to the docks," Elden said.
MIKE: They're going up on deck to sing "Cosi, Cosa".
> "However, if you can spare
>a minute, I'd like to show off my latest design.
CROW: [Elden] Time is of the essence! But first, here's what I've
puttering around with in the old workshop.
> The Victorious is
>finally ready for launch.
TOM: [Elden] I mean lunch! The cafeteria's been built and stocked!
> As soon as the stores all arrive,
MIKE: [Elden] Macy's doesn't open until week after next.
> I'll be
>taking her out for her maiden voyage."
>
TOM: Y'know what? We just saw a 14th-century Invention Exchange!
MIKE: Hey, yeah! Think they'd be impressed if I built *them* a robot?
CROW: Mike, we discussed this - remember?
MIKE: But -
TOM: No more robot building! Get it, Nelson?!
MIKE: Okay, okay! [mumbling] Geez, blow up one lousy half of the ship,
and you're branded for life.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco.
TOM: Caffeine, sugar, carbohydrates, making whoopee...
> Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO."
CROW: "IMHO"?
MIKE: International Marrissa's House of Omelets.
> ~ Greywolf
>
>Path:
>sn-us!sn-xit-01!supernews.com!129.8.52.88.MISMATCH!nntp!tethys.csu.net!
>news-hog.berkeley.edu!ucberkeley!newshub.sdsu.edu!west.cox.net!cox.net!
CROW: Then on to Wally.Cox.Net
MIKE: Over to Nikki.Cox.Net
TOM: And finally Courtney.Cox.Net
CROW: Or would it be Courtney.Cox.Arquette.Net?
>newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newstest450b.news.pas.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenbratliff@earthlink.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 8/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
CROW: Hey, we're at the halfway point!
TOM: Which only means we have to do what we've already done all over again.
CROW: Wow, you're little Mr. Bot-of-Sunshine today.
>Message-ID: <laskhu40md7nbbksrqp8qsvm2d4b0bjsct@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
>MIME-Version: 1.0
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MIKE: Story-Content: 2-bit.
>Lines: 381
>Date: Thu, 27 Jun 2002 02:02:38 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.191.160.172
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newstest450b.news.pas.earthlink.net 1025143358 63.191.160.172
>(Wed, 26 Jun 2002 19:02:38 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 26 Jun 2002 19:02:38 PDT
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:159709
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 8/16 Serialized Biweekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: Well, he's only really been ruling in the very loosest sense
of the word.
>Chapter Seven: The First Fights.
>
MIKE: *Never* talk about First Fight Club!
> Lieutenant Calgary ran through the sewers,
CROW: o/` And he ran through the brambles and he ran through the
bushes where a rabbit couldn't go! o/`
> chased by what
>sounded like a hoard of swordsmen.
TOM: But was really just two Foley guys and some boards.
> Some where he'd been separated
>from Marrissa.
CROW: Oh, now see? There's an upside to every situation.
> The last he had seen of her, she'd taken a cut to her
>tunic along the left side and dodged past the swordsman, heading
>downstream.
MIKE: She was at the 40, the 30, the 20 - she *could* *go* *all* *the*
*way*!
> He hadn't been so lucky, going back up stream. If he
>didn't find a quick way up soon he was going to end up trapped when
>the tunnels got smaller. Already he could feel the walls closing in.
>
CROW: If there's a garbage compactor monster in there, I'm gonna scream.
> Captain Lord Trevor took his post beside the wheel of the HMS
>Godspeed.
TOM: Odd place for an Internet terminal.
> She was raising her sails and preparing to leave the mouth
>of the river Castrome. The great white sails dropped down as the
>anchor was reported to have been brought aboard.
CROW: Duke Stone of Phillips is piped onto the ship.
> She wasn't the only
>ship preparing to leave harbor. The ships moored near the point where
>also active.
MIKE: They're just looking busy until the boss stops checking on them.
> "Mr. Bracegirdle,
TOM: [Trevor] Cinch it up and get over here!
MIKE: [Trevor] And change your name - the cabin boys won't stop giggling!
> what do you make of the two ships at the
>point?" Lord Trevor asked of his able First Mate.
CROW: [Bracegirdle] Is this one of those "One hand clapping" questions, sir?
TOM: [Trevor] Shut up, Bracegirdle.
CROW: [Bracegirdle] Shutting up, sir!
> Mr. Bracegirdle pulled out his glass
TOM: Ah, the *real* first mate - sweet, sweet booze!
> and examined the ships.
>"They appear to be putting to sail, sir. They're also manning the
>guns."
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] Or they're gunning the men. I'm not sure.
> "And what do they fly?" Lord Trevor asked.
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] United, I think
TOM: [Trevor] HA! We got 'em now, boy!
> "The ensign of the Duke of Fasstime, sir," Bracegirdle said as
>he put his glass away.
TOM: It's Phoebe Cates' bikini top!
CROW: Now *there's* something to pledge allegiance to! *grrrrrrwl*
> "Order the Ladies bellow, Mr. Bracegirdle," Lord Trevor said.
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] Well, they don't really bellow, they just kind of
shriek a little bit.
>"Once we're under sail, man the guns. I have a feeling we're not
>getting out of this without a fight."
>
TOM: [Ali] I want Duke Frazier! I want Duke Frazier!
CROW: They will fight nobly to defend whatever the heck they're doing.
> A gust of wind filled the ensigns of the two ships off
>Castrome Point.
CROW: When Pavel Chekov has that bloated gassy feeling, he reaches
for Gaviscon.
> It was all the Ducal Consort needed. Lord Elden had
>feared this.
TOM: Stephen's passing off a low pressure system as an action sequence.
> The Castrome Fleet wasn't due in for another day,
MIKE: That's what he gets for not shipping UPS.
CROW: The Brown can save your kingdom, too.
>and his daughters were now in danger from two enemy ships in his own
>harbor. Fortunately, the HMS Victorious was ready ahead of schedule.
>It was Tuesday,
CROW: So this must be Belgium.
> and two Fasstime Frigates were about to feel the might
>of a ship of the line.
>
TOM: So what's Captain Morgan Bateson doing there?
> A plume of spray rose in front of the Godspeed. "They have
>our range, Captain!" Bracegirdle informed.
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] And they're coming back for our fridge and blender!
> "Prepare to return fire as we pass by," Lord Trevor ordered.
CROW: [Bracegirdle] Sorry, sir, we lost the receipt.
TOM: [Trevor] Blast it, man! Check your wallet again!
>"Helm 6 points to starboard.
TOM: They scored a touchdown!
> We're faster than them, if we can get
>past them, we'll be fine.
>
MIKE: Bravely, the veteran naval officer runs away like a woman.
CROW: Thirty seconds later...
TOM: [Trevor] OHMYGOD! WEREGONNADIE! WEREGONNADIE!! WEREGONNADIE!!!
> The Victorious left dock in record time.
TOM: They laid skid marks in the harbor.
> Her 52 guns were
>primed and ready for the engagement
MIKE: Twenty weeks on Broadway!
> against the ships that dared fire
>on her Captain's daughters' ship. Above her second mast flew the
>ensign of her Captain,
CROW: Harry Kim, you get right down from there!
> the Crimson Latin Cross of Castrome quartered
>with the Green Celtic Cross of Avtra.
TOM: It's a lot of marginally relevant detail, but it does pad the story.
> This day two ships had earned
>the ire of three dukedoms.
MIKE: And four dukedoms had scorned the ire of three ships!
TOM: And four ships from three dukes had ired two ships from two dukedoms'
three dukes!
CROW: And three ships, two dukes and a rabbi walk into a bar and, and -
oh, blast, I lost it.
> And the regent of Castrome was planning to
>do his own dirty work today.
>
CROW: He's remaking a Norm McDonald movie? He's mad, I tell you!
> A spar and some rigging fell at Lord Trevor's feet. The
>Godspeed had just lost her mizzen mast top gallant.
MIKE: Now Ratliff's just making words up!
TOM: [Trevor] You there! Steady the mildefot! You! Turn the
fazzostile 18 degrees to the left! And you! Keep an eye on
that twizzelwacker!
> "We've lost some
>speed, Captain," Mr. Bracegirdle said.
TOM: [Bracegirdle] We're just Cherubspeed now.
> "The wind is more favorable to them."
CROW: Stupid wind! Always taking sides and stuff!
> "Understood, hard to port," Lord Trevor ordered. "Take us in
>close. Ready starboard guns. Aim for the waterline.
MIKE: [Trevor] They're leaving a ring around the bathtub, gentlemen!
> Fire as we pass!"
TOM: [Trevor] Brace all girdles!
MIKE: [Bracegirdle] Very funny, sir.
> The first shot went high, taking out the top gallant of the
>first ship.
MIKE: The goofus, however, was completely unscathed.
> The second fell short, but the third hit hard, right into
>the middle of the at the base of it's main mast.
TOM: Gah! Stevie overloaded his word processor!
> The fourth hit just
>above the waterline.
MIKE: Suddenly a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.
> The Godspeed's fifth shot missed cleanly.
CROW: It's the world's first completely itemized naval battle!
>In the interim, the Godspeed's mizzen mast was shortened by a third.
MIKE: I'm guessing Steve got some CS Forrester books for a gift.
> "Mr. Bracegirdle, what do make our opponents?"
TOM: Probably some shipwrights and lumberjacks, sir.
> "The Abigail and the Lady Rose both out of Arlipor, sir,"
>Bracegirdle said. "28s."
CROW: They're being hit on by a couple of 28 year-old chicks?
TOM: Awwww yeeeeeah...
> "We're outgunned by a little more than 4 to 1, but they're
>aiming for capture, Mr. Bracegirdle," Lord Trevor said. "Fortunately,
>I'm not so constrained.
MIKE: He refuses to capture himself!
> Ready portside cannons! I want to hull those ships!"
>
TOM: I suppose he'll be opening hulling frequencies, huh?
> On the quarter deck of the Victorious, Lord Elden pushed
>against the finely polished wooden rail,
CROW: [Snickering] Shouldn't he do that in the privacy of his quarters?
> as if he could make the ship
>close the force of his will. The crew would not bet against it.
MIKE: Of course, the crew also bet on the Clippers to clinch the NBA
title, so that doesn't say much.
>"Captain, coming into range," his Lieutenant ordered.
> "Ready the bow chasers," Lord Elden said.
TOM: That's vermouth and beer, right?
> "Then prepare for a
>full engagement.
CROW: [Elden] Call my old girlfriends and tell them it's over!
> We're going to turn those two ships into driftwood."
>
TOM: Ahhhh! Witchcraft!
> "Captain! The Victorious is out of dock and coming into
>range," Bracegirdle announced, almost shouting into his ear.
MIKE: [Captain] You don't have to shout!
CROW: [Bracegirdle] SORRY SIR. IT'S MY VOICE MODULATION SYNDROME
KICKING IN AGAIN.
> The Lady Rose turned to meet the Victorious. As she did, she
>dipped enough to bring her hole to the water.
TOM: This scene is just packed with nasty bad imagery.
> She floundered, before
>righting herself and finishing the turn.
MIKE: That's the same way my great-uncle Bert drives.
> "Close on the Abigail," Lord Trevor ordered.
TOM: [Trevor] Hurt her feelings some, if necessary.
> "We've got a
>chance now."
> The roar of the Victorious's first broadside covered
>Bracegirdle's mumbled reply.
CROW: Geez, this guy needs diction lessons.
> The Lady Rose would never recover from
>the maiden battle.
TOM: It's Chyna versus Sable! On Pay-per-view!
> From the Godspeed's view, the main mast was simply
>blown right off the ship, along with a good portion of the mizzen mast
>and her foresail.
CROW: And if any of that sounds dirty it's because you have a filthy,
filthy mind.
> The Lady Rose leaned away from the Victorious at
>first,
MIKE: The perils of bad breath.
> but then tilted back, and went completely over, keel up with
>all hands aboard in less than a minute.
TOM: The HMS Foster Brooks, ladies and gentlemen. Thought you'd like
to know.
> Meanwhile, the Godspeed had closed on the Abigail.
MIKE: John Adams is furious!
> On the
>Abigail's decks, the materials for boarding where being prepared.
CROW: The captain was reminding them that "Oh yeah? Well you
fight like a cow!" won't work as a retort in sea combat.
>Closer the ships came.
TOM: Step by step ... inch by inch ...
> Then in unison, the Godspeed's port cannons
>fired.
MIKE: And the recoil knocks the ship on its side and it sinks.
TOM: D'oh!
> The Abigail suffered several holes in her hull, as the
>Godspeed picked up her sails, and put on speed out of the battle,
CROW: Fleet Admiral, His Grace, Lord Trevor the Big Giant Scaredycat!
>leaving the angry father on the Victorious to deal with the Abigail.
>
MIKE: Young lady, you are *grounded* for a *week*!
> Marrissa emerged from the sewer at it's end and quickly hid
>behind some bushes.
CROW: Too bad they couldn't mask the stench of the congealed human
waste that coated her from head to toe.
TOM: She's Marrissa LePew!
MIKE: And ironically, *now* she has to go!
> The last hundred meters of the sewer had a
>maintenance walkway along one side, which was a good thing, as before
>she'd gotten to it the sewage level had already topped her knees.
MIKE: And brown's not even in this year,
CROW: Good thing green is.
MIKE & TOM: Ewwwwwww!
> It was about three minutes before her pursuers left the sewer.
CROW: So how many pursuers per sewer?
>She watched as they scanned the lagoon and the lush tropical brush
>surrounding it. As they scanned, another swordsman came into veiw.
TOM: Another one of those Japanese soldiers who hadn't heard the war
ended. Sheeeesh.
> "Foster!
MIKE: [Aussie] Foster! Australian for Throwaway!
> Have you seen any one exit the sewer?" one of the
>two men who had been following her asked.
CROW: [Foster] Yes, sir! Four turtles, a rat, and a reporter in
a yellow jumpsuit.
> "No, sir," Foster said. "I've been standing guard all day,
>and everyone I've seen entered the sewer."
TOM: He's been guarding a sewer all day? Man, he must've punched out
a general or something to draw *that* fine duty posting!
> "He must have hidden in a side branch," the second said.
>"Foster, I need you to join the search.
CROW: [Guard] Log on to Google and check under "Starfleet", "Escape"
and "Poo Gas".
> Two men attacked Lord Henry
>in the sewer, and we've got to find the one who went down stream."
> Marrissa watched as the three re-entered the sewer.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Suckers!
> As soon
>as they disappeared, she carefully walked away through the bush making
>as little noise as possible.
TOM: Pretty soon, all she could hear were the voices in her head.
> Soon she came to a small cove. Looking
>at her sewage covered legs, she stopped there to clean herself off.
CROW: I think you need more than the little bottle of Purell here.
>She took her tunic off, which had somehow escaped stain, but did have
>a rather large cut in it, which got larger when Marrissa took it off.
TOM: Great. I was going to get through this whole story without
having to think about Marrissa naked and now this!
>She then took a dive into the salt water.
MIKE: : [Marrissa] Ooh! Ow! Ow! Stingy stingy hurty! Owowowow!
> The wash and swim was a pleasant one. The wash especially.
CROW: Thanks to new Tide with extra Raw Sewage-Removal action!
TOM: She's taking a bath while being pursued by hostile swordsmen?
MIKE: She's operating under slasher flick rules.
>Marrissa had missed baths since leaving the Enterprise for this
>mission.
MIKE: Yeah, at this point, even B.O. Plenty is covering his mouth
and gagging.
> The cleaning methods on board the Stargazer just didn't
>measure up with a bath in sun warmed tropical water.
CROW: The cleaning methods on Stargazer consist of throwing Picard overboard.
> And to have a
>pleasant swim afterwards ... well Marrissa would never admit it to her
>friends,
TOM: But she owed the Gambino family 300 grand.
> but she loved skinny dipping.
MIKE: Okay, Steve's just taunting us now.
> The flow of the water past her
>naked body as she swam felt much better than when she wore a swimming
>suit.
[Stunned silence]
MIKE: Well then - she's not just a power-hungry conqueror of worlds,
she's an *exhibitionist* power-hungry conqueror of worlds.
CROW: This *definitely* falls under the "Too much information" clause
of our contract!
TOM: Please, cut away to anything! Anything is better than this!
> It was too bad that she couldn't afford to stay at the cove
>all day, but as she swam to shore she heard the bells of Church of the
>Overflowing Cup toll the hour of four. Marrissa was expected back at
>the Inn at five.
CROW: [Marrissa] Just enough time for a quick streak through town.
> Once she was ashore,
MIKE: And she adjusted her main riggings...
> Marrissa pulled her tunic over her head,
>only to discover a cut creating a gapping hole just even with her
>belly button.
MIKE: Marrissa challenges Britney and Christina for the pop princess title!
TOM: Suckers! My money's on Jalea Bates!
> But she had little choice but to wear it, as it was the
>only piece of clothing she had.
CROW: Too bad there isn't a starship around that could beam down a fresh
set of clothes to her.
> It was better to have the hole on
>this side though. There at least she'd have some control over it
>ripping open further.
CROW: Now she can rip it off at her own leisure.
TOM: I get the feeling Ratliff's perused one too many copies of FHM
lately.
> Still, she didn't really want to enter town
>like this.
CROW: With no fanfare or advance PR. It was just embarrassing.
MIKE: She may be overthinking her minor fabric damage.
> Mulling this dilemma over she walked down the shore, towards
>town.
TOM: [Marrissa] I can't go into town like this! Let me think it over
while I go to town.
> Soon the Bluepor Road curved towards shore and she began to
>walk along the cobblestone road. So entranced,
ALL: [monotone] "Royal and Prime Directive" was much better than "Cats".
I will read it again and again.
> in her thoughts, she
>failed to notice the pair of rinnebeasts heading towards her.
>
MIKE: Oh no! It's a ride-by swording!
> Lieutenant Ken Calgary was strapped to the rack.
CROW: Thanks to his rigorous workout schedule, he'd soon be buffed up
and his abs ripped!
> His arms
>were attached to one rope which wound around a bar which could be
>turned to pull them further from his legs, which were embedded in a
>tight restraint on the rack's bottom.
TOM: That is to say, he was strapped to the rack.
MIKE: This is how I've always pictured a chiropractor's office.
> The room he was in was not the
>expected dungeon, but what appeared to be a rather opulent quarters.
TOM: Guests of "Royal & Prime Directive" are tortured at the luxurious
Adams Mark Hotel in scenic downtown Ellosia!
>Calgary was an Engineer.
CROW: And he couldna take mooch moora this!
> He wasn't trained to undergo torture.
>Actually, most Star Fleet Officer's weren't,
MIKE: Well, except for the Special Tactical S&M squad.
> especially mediaeval
>torture.
TOM: "Mediaeval" torture?
CROW: That's where they keep adding on vowel after vowel until you break.
> Still, the torturer has to be asking the right questions to
>get out the information.
MIKE: Just Calgary's luck, he got one interested in macrame.
> Otherwise, Calgary would have been telling
>how to build a starship.
MIKE: Unfortunately, that's exactly what Lord Henry wanted to know.
CROW: [Henry] Yes, yes! Death from the stars! The infidels shall feel
my holy wrath!
> "I ask you again, who sent you to intercept me?" Lord Henry
>asked,
TOM: [Calgary, hysterical] BUDDY RYAN! He called Cover 2-blitz!
I swear I didn't know you were throwing over the middle!
> his hand caressing the wheel that would pull Calgary further
>apart.
CROW: Ooooh, lovely lovely wheel! No on understands you like I do,
my dear sweet wheel!
TOM: Henry enjoys that wheel a little too much.
> "No one!" Calgary screeched, already in pain after a hour of
>this.
TOM: Now, is it safe?
> "Why were you in the sewers?" Lord Henry asked,
CROW: [Calgary] Pitching! Been - needing new - closer - all season!
> bringing the
>rack up a notch.
MIKE: To eleven.
> "Captain Picard sent me!" The pain increased.
> "Now we're getting somewhere," Henry said. "And who is this
>Captain Picard?"
CROW: Stewart, Patrick. Born 7/13/40, Midfield England. Joined Royal
Shakespeare Theatre 1966. Cast in 1987 as Jean-Luc Picard.
> "He commands the merchant ship Stargazer!" Calgary could feel
>his joints popping loose.
> "Oh but that's not all he does, is it?"
TOM: Well, there's his one-man show of "A Christmas Carol". Does
that help?
> "No..." Calgary moaned as the rack pulled him further appart.
TOM: He's leader of the X-Men!
CROW: He's mixed up in the battle for the Spice Trade!
MIKE: And he also seeks the great white whale!
> "Perhaps you'd care to tell me what you know about this
>Captain Picard."
MIKE: [Calgary] Bald! Prissy! French! Or English! Or something!
> "I'll tell you anything, just stop this pulling," Calgary
>sobbed.
TOM: Planck's constant! The stats for the 1954 Giants! The
secret formula for Kentucky Fried Chicken! Anything!!
> "We'll see," Henry said, reducing the pull by two notches.
>"Isn't that better. Now who is this Captain Picard."
CROW: Is he Batman? ANSWER ME!!!
> "He's the commanding officer on the flagship starship
>Enterprise."
> "Starship? I think you're lying to me."
MIKE: [Henry] Or you're high. In which case, share!
> "No, I swear I'm not. We come from the same organization as
>the King was from."
TOM: [Calgary] See? Here's my Amway sample case!
> "And I suppose you're here to bring the King back. Pardon me
>if I've heard that one before.
ALL: You're pardoned.
> In the last twenty years over a dozen
>'prophets' have claimed that.
TOM: Then that blasted emissary showed up...
> They're gone now, and the King is still
>here.
MIKE: That proves something, but I don't know what.
> Though, he won't be much longer.
CROW: He's gonna be shorter?
> You can do better than that.
MIKE: [Henry] Where's the brilliant young Calgary I hired?
>Who was that swordsman with you?"
MIKE: That was no swordsman, that was my knife!
TOM: *ba-dum-dum*
> "She was the Captain's daughter, Marrissa," Calgary said.
> "Still lying," Henry sighed. He turned the rack up a notch,
CROW: [British] Cardinal Fang, give the rack another turn!
>and Calgary screamed.
> "I'm telling the truth!
ALL: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
> She's the Chief of Security on the
>Enterprise! A member of the Royal Family of Essex! The youngest ever
>to serve in Starfleet!"
CROW: She's the captain of the Kids' Crew!
MIKE: She's the first Triple Crown winner in 350 years!
TOM: She has the best Kobayashi Maru time ever!
CROW: Oh, but don't mention any of it in front of her, cuz she hates
her titles.
ALL: Yeah, sure, that's right, absolutely, etc.
> "I think the pain has addled your brain," Lord Henry said.
TOM: Y'know, a semi-reasonable villain would give Calgary the benefit
of the doubt, but this Henry guy's a jackass.
CROW: Yeah. This is gonna sound weird, but I hope Marrissa kicks this
jerk's hinder.
MIKE: Me too - anybody with that big of a hole in his head deserves to
get his butt handed to him on a silver platter.
>"Too bad. I thought we were getting somewhere.
CROW: Hey, "No" means "No"!
> Perhaps you'll be
>able to talk coherently later.
TOM: So until then, let's mambo dogface through the banana patch.
> Unfortunately, I just don't have the
>time anymore. I've got a King to capture and kill,
CROW: [Henry] And I'm telling you this because I know it won't come
back to bite me.
> and I'm afraid
>that after I'm done, any information you have will be totally
>inadequate to your continued existence."
MIKE: [Henry] Lower him into the unnecessarily slow death machine
and leave him alone.
CROW: Tonight, the part of Lord Henry will be played by Prince
Humperdinck.
> With that, Lord Henry brought up the rack three more notches,
>popping Calgary's arms out of their sockets.
[Crow makes popping sounds]
> As he turned to leave,
>Calgary's screams were music to his ears.
>
TOM: Ah, the Toccata and Fugue in Pain Minor.
> Marrissa was hoping that she wouldn't run into anyone she knew
>before she got back to her room at the Golden Rinnebeast.
CROW: Just how likely *is* it? There are only about 5 people on the
entire frickin' planet who know her!
MIKE: Just watch. This is where fate and chance take a dive in the
fourth round.
> It was a
>hope that didn't even last halfway to the city gates. The coastal
>road she was walking on wasn't very well traveled, but there were some
>people riding the local replacement for horses.
CROW: He means rinnebeasts, right?
MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions.
> "Stop for a moment, Avery," a girl said from her mount. "I
>think I recognize that girl."
CROW: She stole Mike's keyboard!
TOM: A little *too* obscure.
> "Okay, Hayley," Avery said.
>
CROW: Jeez, not even married yet and she's already got him whipped!
> The Godspeed rounded Castrome point and put on all sails.
TOM: Everything must go! Well over forty percent off!
>Captain Lord Treavor intended to make record time, even with a damaged
>mizzenmast.
MIKE: Oh, we can't have nice mizzenmasts.
> Repairs on the mizzenmast would only take a couple more
>hours, anyway.
>
TOM: Which calls into question the need for a mizzenmast to begin with.
CROW: The ship was designed by committee. Parts made all over to keep
Ye Olde Armed Forces Committee happy.
> Captain Jean-Luc Picard adjusted his tunic as he stood at the
>door to the throne room. His wife stood at his side, and two guards
>at his back.
MIKE: And they were all surrounded by a squad of boy scouts with
compasses and GPS units.
> The former security chief turned chief of intelligence
>had already entered the room and was talking to the King and his
>staff. Finally, the door split open, revealing Lord Harlan.
CROW: Oh, it's *you*. For a moment there, you gave me quite a start.
> "Come on in, Captain," Harlan said. "Roland, do not let
>anyone disturb us. This could take a while."
CROW: Eww! They're gonna share Beverly!
TOM: Hey, hey! You're jumping to conclusions! Ratliff would never do
that to us.
MIKE: Unless Marrissa was involved...
CROW: [Pause] ...You're paying for my therapy bill, Mike.
> "Are you sure you don't want someone to guard them inside?"
>Roland asked.
MIKE: [Harlan] Yes. Crawl into their spleens and stand ready.
> "The Captain and his wife are not a physical threat," Harlan
>said. "If his highness wishes to join us, he may. Tell him that our
>meeting is a matter of the Prime Directive, if he asks."
>
TOM: [Harlan] If he *doesn't* ask, tell him that it's about changing
the drapes in the dining room to a floral pattern.
> The guard on the main entrance to Odyssey was thin,
CROW: The city is guarded by Sir Kate Moss and Sir Iggy Pop!
> no one had
>tried to force their way in before, and over the years, it had been
>gradually reduced.
TOM: The guardpost was so small, even the mice were hunchbacked.
> So when Lord Henry's troops emerged from the
>nearby sewer junction
ALL: [Troops] COWABUNGA!!!
> and rushed the entrance, it was easily taken,
MIKE: Ugh! Mainly by force of odor alone!
TOM: Henry's troops better hope he stocked up on Lifeboy back home.
>with no losses on Henry's side.
>
CROW: Except for their dignity.
> As the Captain walked passed Lord Harlan into the throne room,
>he took stock of the room. It was a typical Star Fleet Gym.
CROW: *snicker* The throne room is the ship's *gym*?!
TOM: The bowling alley just wasn't formal enough.
MIKE: Not only is he the absolute monarch of all he surveys, but he
can bench-press 180.
>Two stories, running track around the second level.
MIKE: Somebody tell me why they filmed this at the Guilderland YMCA?
> A large tapestry
>covered the end of the room farthest from the door, and below it sat
>five thrones, arranged two on the highest dais, two still placed in
>front of them, and another on the left hand side.
TOM: Further feng shui bulletins as they become available.
> No one was seated
>in them. Instead everyone was seated in a loose grouping of chairs
>under the Castrome banner,
MIKE: Those banners are just for sale to the tourists.
> one of four ducal banners placed around the
>room.
TOM: Even in the future, you can't escape pop-up banners.
> The door slide shut behind him.
> "Welcome to Odyssey, Jean-Luc," the white bearded King said
>standing.
CROW: Hooray! We've finally reached plot!
> "I'm sorry that I didn't meet you sooner.
MIKE: [King] Too busy slaughtering everyone who opposes my absolute
rule. You guys wanna soda or something?
> Harlan didn't
>tell me you were here. Who's this beautiful young woman?"
CROW: [Deep voice] Captain Slam Hardrock.
> "This is Commander Beverly Picard, MD, my wife, mother of my
>daughter, and my Chief Medical Officer," Jean-Luc said, quite
>obviously proud of her.
TOM: And obviously remembering to praise at all opportunities or get
cut off again.
> "Beverly, this is Captain Richard York, of
>the Odyssey."
CROW: [Beverly] Darrin?
MIKE: [Picard] No, a different one, I'm afraid.
> "And lately King of Ellosia, though I wish it weren't so, most
>of the time," the King said.
MIKE: He keeps saying that, and we keep not believing it.
> "Perhaps later, you can exchange
>professional courtesies with my wife,
CROW: In those rare moments when she's not vomiting.
> she's missed having doctors she
>can talk to."
TOM: [King] I'd ask you to cure her horrible wasting disease, but that
would just cheapen all of us.
> "It should be interesting to hear what Doctor York has done
>here," Beverly said.
MIKE: [Beverly] What's her Blue Cross payout like, anyway?
> "Not much, I'm afraid," the King said, sitting back down.
>"We've avoided introducing any new concepts, instead relying on
>encouraging native innovation.
TOM: [King] Except for that little Viagra factory we have on the
outskirts of town.
CROW: Penicillin and MRI scans are out, boiled frogwort and leeches
are in.
> Claire has spent most of her time
>raising our two children and breeding rinnebeasts."
>
TOM: Well, if she did it the other way around, it'd just be silly.
> The path to the throne room was cleared rather easily as well,
MIKE: Sure, once you got all the Butterfinger wrappers and empty
Schlitz cans outta the way.
CROW: This Kingdom could be conquered by the Soggies.
>as other teams went after other key parts of Odyssey. They were after
>the King,
TOM: [Elvis] Thankyavurramuch!
> the Prince,
CROW: They just want his extra time. And his kiss.
> the Princess,
MIKE: As you wiiiiiiiiiiish...
> and any member of the King's
>council, as well as securing the palace.
>
CROW: These guards are operating at almost imperial stormtrooper
levels of efficiency.
> "You do realize that you're violating the Prime Directive by
>just being here," Picard said, taking a seat.
TOM: [King] But I'm *not* breaking it by *not* being here.
CROW: [Picard] Save your Zen trickery!
> "I had no choice but to break the Prime Directive once my ship
>landed on the last King and the Royal Family," the King said.
CROW: So they had to seize power in order to preserve the status quo?
MIKE: A fine, Pentagonian line of thinking of there ever was one.
> "Surely there were other claimants for the throne," Picard
>said.
CROW: They ran that ad in the Ellosia Times-Herald, but the only ones
who answered were the Safeway produce manager, the "Time to Make
the Doughnuts" guy and Ted McGinley.
> "A few, but they were so remote as to be unclear, and likely
>to throw the kingdom into civil war," the King said.
MIKE: I thought that just meant the Secretary of Agriculture took over?
> "Both the Duke
>of Fasstime and the Duke of Castrome had claims of equal degree, and
>Avtra and Armedge to a lesser degree.
TOM: [King] Yeah, had to kill 'em all, pretty much.
> The best claim was probably of
>the Lord of Music,
CROW: [King] Who's also the Duke of Ellington, Count of Basie and
Prince of TAFKA.
> the bastard son of a bastard son of a bastard son
MIKE: o/` Of a bastard son of a sailor... o/`
>whose great-grandfather was King Avery III."
CROW: King Avery *Schreiber* III.
TOM: Hakim! Hakim!
> "It sounds to me like the monarchal line was on a thin
>thread," Picard replied.
CROW: We're not talking the Hapsburgs, here.
> "It does, until you realize that our landing killed over 150
>members of the Ellosia Royal Family," the King said.
MIKE: [King] Our pilot really outdid herself, there!
> "Once I learned
>how much of the Ellosian government that my barely controlled landed
>had taken out, I felt that I had a moral obligation to take over."
TOM: [King] Because if I hadn't, the next king wouldn't have been me!
> The door to the throne room opened, and Lord Harlan turned see
>who it was,
TOM: It's the wacky next door neighbor, Lord Kramer.
CROW: [Kramer] Your majesty! My boys can swim!
> expecting that maybe Prince Avery had come to join,
>knowing that none of the guard would interrupt.
>
CROW: Just because you *can* compound a sentence doesn't mean you *should*.
> Prince Avery, Lady Hayley, and Marrissa rode into the royal
>stables. Marrissa shared Lady Hayley's mount,
MIKE: And that mount is Sinai.
CROW: [Heston] I bring you these commandments!
> and wore Avery's cloak,
>wrapped around her own tattered tunic.
TOM: These scenes were cut from "Shrek" for clarity.
> Avery dismounted first,
MIKE: But Keri Strug still won the gold.
>and then helped Hayley and then Marrissa down from the rinnebeast.
> "Welcome to Odyssey Palace, Marrissa," Avery said,
CROW: We hope you enjoy your stay. If you need anything, just dial
"6" for room service.
> turning to
>the stable hand. "You!
TOM: Lick me!
> go get my sister's extra outfit, for this
>sailor lady.
CROW: [Jerry Lewis] Oh, the sailor lady guy! And the clothes and
the lulla-baby-bye, Froin-LAIVEN!!!
> Brittany always keeps an extra outfit out here."
MIKE: So she just leaves her clothes lying around the house?
TOM: Sounds like a normal teenage girl to me.
> It took only a minute for the stableboy to return with the
>extra pants & tunic. Marrissa took the offered pants, but left the
>tunic. While the pants were of thick and sturdy cloth,
TOM: They haven't even got Dacron on this planet!
CROW: That's the daytime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy-
head, fever ... wait ...
> the tunic was
>of a thin and almost translucent pale blue cloth.
TOM: Yeah, it's Brittany, all right. Well, or Christina. Or Beyonce.
Or Shakira. Or...
> "Thanks," she
>replied. "I'll return the pants once I get back to the Golden
>Rinnebeast for mine."
MIKE: I hope we get to see all the people Marrissa meets on the way
to returning her pants.
> "Don't go so soon, Marrissa," Hayley said, as Marrissa turned
>as if to leave.
TOM: [Hayley] But when you do, leave more.
> "Yes, at least come in and get some refreshment," Avery said.
CROW: [Avery] We're having juice and cookies before nap-nap.
>As he did, the sound of clashing swords started to be heard.
MIKE: Somewhere, someone was filming a Gillette commercial.
>Suddenly, a solider burst from the Palace entrance.
CROW: Those playing along at home are encouraged to pick any line from
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail" here.
> "Your Highness!" the solider said. "Someone has taken the
>King hostage in the throne room. They're heading this way!"
MIKE: [Avery] So why are you heading towards US instead of THEM?
TOM: [Guard] Umm... To protect you, sire?
MIKE: [Avery] Remind me to have you executed later.
TOM: Yessir...
> "Can any of you handle a sword?" Avery asked the stable hands,
>drawing his own, and eyeing the rack of broad swords next to the
>stable door.
TOM: Then he turned to Hayley and Marrissa and examined the broads' racks.
> "I can," Marrissa said,
MIKE: [Dully] Gee. What a shock.
TOM: [Ditto] Yes. I never even saw. It coming.
> picking up one of the swords.
>"Hmmm... a little out of balance, but useable."
CROW: [Marrissa] Where's the phaser on it?
> "Okay, we'll head to the Avtra Ducal House," Avery said as a
>couple other stable hands also armed themselves.
MIKE: [Teen] Their folks are out of town, and we can have a bitchin'
party there, dudes!
> "Collect any other
>soldiers as we go."
TOM: Save them in polymer bags. They may be valuable someday.
> He spied a young stable boy, who often had helped
>him saddle his rinnebeast. "David, head to Castrome's Ducal House. I
>want the Duchess to meet me at Avtra."
CROW: [kid] Do it yourself, prince boy! I got horseflops to shovel!
> A trio of swordsmen burst from the palace door.
CROW: o/~ Helloooo! o/~
TOM: o/~ Helloooo! o/~
MIKE: o/~ Helloooo! o/~
ALL: HELLO!
> They were
>armed with short swords,
TOM: 34 petites.
> and looked to have been fighting for a while,
>judging from the torn and sweaty clothes.
MIKE: That or they've been listening to Alan Greenspan describe the Fed's
monetary policy for 10 minutes.
> Avery raised his sword.
CROW: Leaving his chest completely undefended, so one of the enemy
soldiers plunged his sword into it, killing Avery instantly.
>Marrissa and the soldier did likewise.
TOM: The Three Doofusteers!
> Together they leapt into
>battle.
MIKE: [Avery] YIPPIE!!
TOM: [Marrissa] YAPPIE!!
CROW: [Soldier] YAHOOEY!!
> The soldier was, perhaps a moderately skilled swordsman,
>certainly capable of holding his own in a battle.
CROW: Or, if necessary, holding someone else's.
> He took the left
>most opponent, a man more used to stabbing a short sword than welding
>a broadsword.
TOM: He accidentally fuses his broadsword onto the water pipe.
> Prince Avery had been training with various swords
>since he was little,
CROW: If you count the little "incident" with the cat.
MIKE: You mean good ol' Stumpy?
CROW: Yeah, poor kitty.
> and had, due to a breach in security, once
>assisted in driving off a Pirate landing party in Bluepor.
MIKE: [Avery] Daddy, I saved the kingdom!
TOM: [King] What?!? You march right up to your room, young man!
> The Prince
>took the man in the center, a fairly skilled swordsman in his own
>right. That left Marrissa to take the right most opponent.
CROW: Fortunately for her, that man was Eddie Deezen.
> Marrissa's skills were rather eclectic.
TOM: Galaxy conquering, refrigerator repair, scrimshaw and third base.
> That came with both
>being Chief of Security on the Enterprise, and being just thirteen.
MIKE: Thanks, Steve, for throwing in a jarring reminder of the utter
unreality of the situation.
TOM: The lesson here: youth equals swordsmanship!
>She was skilled with ba'leths and mek'leths, and other Klingon blades,
>but her real talents came with the saber. She'd been training with
>the saber since she was seven,
TOM: Is this what all kids do in the Star Trek universe - just play
with sharp things all day?
CROW: Of course not - there's also horseback riding.
> but that training was the formal
>dueling training. While it was good for the defense, offensively, her
>bladed weapon technic stank with the broadsword.
CROW: *sniff* *sniff* Naw, that's just Mike.
MIKE: Hey!
> Still she held her
>own, and given that her opponent wasn't expecting to go up against a
>young girl, she had some advantages.
TOM: Mainly, he was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight.
> Prince Avery was the first to finish with his adversary.
CROW: And he was delicious!
> His
>opponent had over extended just a little bit, and Avery had gotten in
>his guard, and cut open his opponent's neck.
TOM: Luckily, he needed the tracheotomy right then.
> Seeing Marrissa's
>skillful parrying, Avery turned to help the soldier,
MIKE: [Avery] Let's see, should I help the trained fighter, or the
little girl? Hmmm...
> who was dodging
>due to the fact that the left most man was using his sword like a
>spear.
CROW: He'd throw it, then they'd have to wait while he went and picked
it up, and the whole thing'd just start all over.
> It may not have been honorable to take a man down from behind,
>but Avery wasn't following the dueling code for this.
TOM: Suddenly, 5 billion Klingons showed up to berate him.
> It was about then that Marrissa decided to try a technique
>from her mek'leth training.
CROW: It was called "running away in terror".
MIKE: It sounds crazy, but it just might work!
> Her sword clashed once more, it's tip
>piercing her opponent's wrist, before she stepped in close, passed her
>opponent, trailing her sword behind her.
TOM: Ummmmm...
CROW: So she just did - what exactly? Whacked him in the kneecap?
MIKE: It's called the "Tonya Harding Special".
> A wound in the belly is not always fatal, and if it is, the
>death is usually slow.
TOM: On the upside, it's an excellent way to get rid of those unwanted
extra pounds.
> With proper medical attention, this one
>wouldn't be. It was, however, coupled with the scratch on his wrist,
>enough to cause the man to drop his sword.
MIKE: They're vicious rebels, but quite vulnerable to paper cuts.
> The next wound would be
>fatal. Marrissa's height made cuts to the neck and head on the
>six-foot tall man hard.
CROW: Too bad a man who's just been gut-stabbed doesn't, y'know,
bend over in agony or something!
TOM: Yeah, if only.
> A slice an inch deep into the man's belly,
>that was what made his funeral bell ring,
TOM: And a slice of sausage pizza was what made his dinner bell ring!
> even though it would take
>the better part of an hour for him to die.
CROW: She forgot to use that cursed henbane on it, so he'd die before
the end of the act.
> His hands tried to keep
>his intestines inside him, as Marrissa lost her breakfast to the sight
>of her first real hot-blooded kill.
>
TOM: This must be Marrissa's stunt double.
> Into the throne room marched several swordsmen, and entering
>from one of the doors onto the running track were more swordsmen and
>several archers.
MIKE: It's the Scott Bakula Brigade!
TOM: Blasted Temporal Cold War!
> Striding in behind them, as if he owned the place
CROW: Which, at the moment, he kinda does...
>was Lord Henry of Fasstime.
MIKE: And he was immediately all up in the King's business.
> "Good Afternoon Richard," he said. "You
>don't mind if my men relieve you of your weapons."
>
TOM: [King] Oh, thank you. They were getting a bit heavy.
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
MIKE: Geez, no plot for seven chapters, then all heck breaks loose at once!
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
CROW: Kids, just say "No" to Word Processors!
MIKE: Stop the madness!
TOM: We gotta go.
[All leave]
COMMERCIALS
1) Did we mention that we have Spielberg's "Taken"? Cuz we do.
2) The future of on-line services is - a guy in a weird butterfly costume?
3) Catherine Zeta-Jones for - ah, who cares? It's Catherine Zeta-Jones!
[SOL - Mike and the Bots are at the console]
MIKE: You know guys, I've been thinking. What with all those Guerin
things and Doc Thinker Scooby-Doo/Superman stories, I've really
come to appreciate these good old-fashioned Ratliff fics.
TOM: I know what you mean! This story is a real breath of fresh air
after the Digi-Defenders series!
CROW: Yeah! After all those, Reuben and Prime Ribs is a real breeze!
And at least Ratliff's stories, flawed as they are, have some
semblance of logic and coherence to them - well, in their own
charming yet unintelligible way!
MIKE: Hey, you know what we should do? Call Stephen and thank him!
TOM: Yeah! It's the least we can do.
CROW: Yeah, let's do it!
MIKE: Okay, here goes... Hello, Stephen?
[The Ratliff Residence - seated at a computer is a young man who looks
suspiciously like Edward Norton (I know he usually looks suspiciously like
Brad Pitt, but Brad declined to appear in this fanfic due to his unexpected
yet fortuitous discovery that he's now married to Jennifer Anniston).]
STEPHEN: Yes? Oh - it's you guys. What's up?
[SOL]
MIKE: We just wanted to call you and let you know how much we
appreciate you and all you've done to brighten up our lives. So...
thank you... just... for being you!
[La Casa de Maison Ratliff]
STEPHEN: Oh. Well, gosh, I, I don't know what to say. You're welcome...
I guess. It's nice to know my fanfics have made a difference.
[SOL]
TOM: Oh and they have! And you know, things can get pretty tense in that
theater, and I'll be first to admit, some of our riffs go WAY over
the line. But you realize that it's all in good fun and you keep
sending us fanfic after fanfic, never once complaining that we're not
being fair, or in any way attempting to get revenge on us.
[Ratliff Estates]
STEPHEN: Really guys, it's nothing.
[SOL]
CROW: Oh, but it *is* something! It shows strength of character to just
turn the other cheek when we question Marrissa's sanity. Or *yours*.
MIKE: Uh, Crow...
TOM: And that time when we got subscriptions to Playboy, Penthouse, and
Hustler in your name and had them sent to your mother's house, well,
anyone else would have tried to get us back. But you simply took it
in stride!
MIKE: Tom, I think...
[Stately Ratliff Manor]
STEPHEN: [A bit suspiciously, yet calmly] I always *wondered* how that
happened. And Mom never looked at me the same way after that.
[SOL]
CROW: Or that time we got access to your credit card number...
MIKE: Crow, perhaps we shouldn't-
CROW: ...and ordered 12 million copies of the DVD of "The Lost World:
Jurassic Park II" off Amazon.com delivered to your house. Did you
swear you would not rest until you got revenge? No, you simply
smiled and took it with dignity.
[Ratliffwalker Ranch]
STEPHEN: [Fuming, but controlling himself] Oh, that was *you* guys, huh?
[SOL]
TOM: Or when we ordered that Singing Strip-O-Gram and-
MIKE: Okay! I think we've thanked him enough!
[Ratlifficello]
STEPHEN: Okay, that's IT!!! I *was* going to refuse to give Pearl the
rest of "Royal and Prime Directives" so you guys could relax - but
FORGET IT!!! All bets are off! It's you or my story. Now back into
the theater, worms!
[SOL]
TOM: But...
CROW: But we...
[Lights flash, usual craziness]
MIKE: Save it. WE'VE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!!!
[Chaos, doors, etc.]
[6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O
[All enter]
TOM: Man, I didn't think he'd be *that* mad.
MIKE: Yeah, well I'm just glad you guys didn't get to the one where you
reported him to the FBI for drug trafficking.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-06!supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!nntp-relay.ihug.net!
>ihug.co.nz!cox.net!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephenbratliff@earthlink.net>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 9/16 (Marrissa Stories)
CROW: The next chapter in the saga of the Great Marrissa and her voyage
to the sea to the great and boring Prince Avery!
>Message-ID: <6fmkiu0q8van51bbpev48m636l15i9dn3b@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548
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>Date: Tue, 09 Jul 2002 03:39:14 GMT
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>(Mon, 08 Jul 2002 20:39:14 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 08 Jul 2002 20:39:14 PDT
>Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:159836
>
CROW: So, if I'm reading this right, there've been almost 160,000
posts to ASC?
TOM: Yep, pretty much.
CROW: Wow. That's an awful lot of bandwidth dedicated to getting
Janeway and Chakotay to play snugglebunnies.
MIKE: Well, now, be fair - some of it is devoted to other pursuits.
CROW: Such as?
TOM: Getting Harry Kim and Seven to play snugglebunnies.
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 9/16 Serialized Biweekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: Captain Khadaffy was unavailable for comment.
>Chapter Eight: Uncertainty and Hope
>
CROW: Two words that have nothing to do with each other.
> By the time Marrissa had seen Prince Avery to safety, the
>midday sun had been replaced by the rolling clouds of the coming
>afternoon and evening thunderstorm.
CROW: I see a bunny.
MIKE: I see a ducky.
TOM: I see a painting by Thomas Eakins.
> She had promised to do a little
>delivery for Earl Cedric,
MIKE: See, people say that Marrissa is horrible as a comedian because
she has no sense of comedic timing, but no one can beat her delivery.
TOM: Yeah, she's one of those where it's not necessarily that what she
says is funny. It's more how she says it.
> who Avery had appointed acting guard
>commander. It was fortunate that two thirds of the guard were off
>duty and in town when the attack had come.
MIKE: Because they might have actually stopped the attack or something!
> They wouldn't be enough to
>take back Odyssey, but they would be enough to contain the invaders.
TOM: And just barely enough to get up a game of Squamish.
>As a light rain began, the remaining guard were beginning to converge
>on Avtra's Ducal Residence in town, where Avery was.
MIKE: [Avery] My leadership skills are best used when I'm soaking
in the Duke's tub!
> Marrissa had stopped in many of the Inns in town,
CROW: But there was no room at them for the baby Marrissa.
> the Red
>Lion, the Blue Wyvern, the Silver Eagle, and now was on her way to the
>White Dove.
TOM: Next to the Maroon Moose...
MIKE: The Teal Weasel...
CROW: The Puce Elephant...
MIKE: The Hot Pink Orca Whale...
TOM: The Orange Basselope...
CROW: The Daniel Striped Tiger.
MIKE & TOM: Huh?
> This wasn't one of her stops for Earl Cedric.
MIKE: She was just in the mood for booze.
> At her
>last stop, she'd sent word to Commander Riker about the attack, via
>Ensign Ikari, one of her security officers.
TOM: And his shipmates, Ensign Dikari and Ensign Doc.
> Here, her objective was
>to stack her deck.
CROW: And this is why Marrissa isn't allowed back in Atlantic City.
> Sitting in the corner of the main room of the Inn, next to one
>of the corner fireplaces, was another young girl,
CROW: [mouse voice] Cinder-Elly!
> dressed in a simple
>tan tunic.
MIKE: It's Alicia Keys, here to sing her hit single, "Fallin'".
> Her bare feet were tucked under her body, as she sat on
>her knees, drying herself.
TOM: I don't care how limber she is, that's *gotta* hurt!
> The girl's long black hair was strung
>together in black pleats, dripping water. Apparently she'd gotten
>caught in a downpour, which Marrissa had thus far avoided.
TOM: Thank goodness she didn't risk getting wet after skinny-dipping.
MIKE: She probably used a gutter bumber shoot.
CROW: A what?
MIKE: My first invention?
CROW: Not ringing any bells, Mark.
MIKE: It's Mike!
CROW: Whatever.
> "Clara!" Marrissa called out, heading towards her friend.
>Clara looked up, and seeing Marrissa, clambered to her feet.
CROW: [Clara] I wasn't plotting against you! I mean, Hi!
> "Marrissa, boy am I glad to see you," Clara replied, as
>Marrissa lead her over to a nearby table.
MIKE: [Clara] I've been looking for a table for *hours*!
> "Sister Beverly is missing
TOM: [Marrissa] Huh?
MIKE: [Clara] Sorry, I mean Doctor Picard... er... Doctor Crusher...
ah, the CMO of the Enterprise.
TOM: [Marrissa] McCoy's still alive?
MIKE: [Clara] Wrong Enterprise.
TOM: [Marrissa] Phlox?
MIKE: [Clara] No!
>and I didn't know wear to find anyone."
CROW: Oh wear anything but what you have on, girlfriend! Something
with a little kick, some Dior or something.
> "I guess I should have told you where the rest of us were
>getting lodging," Marrissa replied,
TOM: [Marrissa] We like to try the *in*doors.
> sitting down behind the table,
>facing the door. "But now we've got more problems.
MIKE: [Marrissa] It's time for the lunch buffet and we're all out of
crab dip!
> The King and the
>Captain are being held hostage in the Odyssey."
TOM: [Marrissa] Doctor Crusher's stuck in The House of Seven Gables,
Commander Riker's in the Three Musketeers, and the whole engineering
crew is trapped in the Greater Mineral County Area Yellow Pages!
> Clara took a seat to the right of her, and signaled for the
>waitress. "What does this do to our investigation?"
CROW: Screws it up big time, it does.
> "It's now storm-tossed,
TOM: Soggy and disheveled.
> and I'm not sure any of us will be
>able to make heads or tails of it
CROW: Except Commander Harvey Dent.
> unless the King comes through okay,"
>Marrissa said as the waitress arrived at their table.
> "What will you girls have?" the plump waitress asked.
TOM: Thrill as Ratliff describes the weight of minor characters!
MIKE: [Ratliff] And then a portly gyro vendor walked by the trim
insurance salesman.
> "How are the meat pies?" Marrissa asked.
CROW: [Waitress, nervously] Not made out of people, if that's what
you've heard. Ha-ha. [Clears throat nervously]
> "Fresh out of the oven, and the meat was just killed
>yesterday," the waitress said.
MIKE: [waitress] You want it with or without the bloody gristle?
> "Helped cook them, myself.
TOM: It's Shake 'N Bake! And Ah hayulped!
> "Then I'd like a plate of it, and a cup of milk, if that's
>possible," Marrissa said. "I missed lunch."
MIKE: Lunch was a great meal. I wish it was still here.
TOM: [Sobbing] Goodbye, Lunch! And Godspeed to you!
> "That will be two pence," the waitress said.
CROW: It's nice to know that no matter where you go in the universe,
you can always count on finding Medieval England somewhere.
> "Can you make change?" Marrissa asked, pulling a gold coin out
>of her pouch.
TOM: [Marrissa] Oh wait, this is just a chocolate coin I picked up
at Mr. Bulky's.
*Sound of cash register*
MIKE: Selling airtime again?
TOM: Hey, that Godfather DVD collection isn't going to pay for itself.
*Another sound of cash register*
TOM: My mistake, it just did.
> At the waitress and Clara's stare, she continued.
>"Third Officer on a merchant ship pays well,
CROW: Since when?
TOM: Yeah, but how's Alice here gonna know that?
CROW: Hmmm - okay, I'll give him that one.
> and by the time you get
>the post, you've proven that being a girl isn't a problem, so you
>don't have to hide it anymore."
CROW: She could've just said "Don't ask".
MIKE: Marrissa needs to learn that sometimes silence speaks volumes.
> "Change will be no problem, ma'am," the waitress said.
TOM: Of course, first you have to *want* to change.
>"And what will you have, Miss Clarrissa."
MIKE: We could've gotten an Iron Chef to *fix* us a meal in the time
it's taking these two to order!
> "Do you still have that delicious red vegetable stew, today?"
>Clara replied.
CROW: [Waitress] No, all we have left is the yucky, mushy grey stew.
> "Most certainly, it's the cook's speciality, after all," the
>waitress smiled.
TOM: Yeah, so's ptomaine.
> "Some more of that, and that yellowberry juice," Clara said.
CROW: The Ellosians didn't put much thought into naming their foods,
did they?
MIKE: [Ellosian] We'll call it "Greenfruit".
TOM: [Ellosian] Uh, Steve, we already *have* a greenfruit.
MIKE: [Ellosian] Um, then we'll call it - "The Other Greenfruit"!
> "Put hers on my tab," Marrissa said, before the waitress
>walked away.
> "So, what happened today?" Clara asked.
MIKE: After all the excitement of ordering lunch, who can remember?
> "The King is being held hostage, and some how the Captain and
>the Doctor end up with them," Marrissa said. "I was with the Prince
>when it happened.
CROW: [Marrissa] We just had time to get dressed. DRESSMAKERS! We got
uh, the royal dressmaker to cover us. *For* us! Cover *for* us
while we made out. OUR WAY! MADE! OUR WAY! OUT!
> He barely got out of it.
TOM: Sure, all the interesting stuff happens off-screen, but it does
keep the budget down.
> We think it's some Lord
>Henry, heir or possibly Duke of Fasstime.
MIKE: [Marrissa] But I've decided that nothing I say is going to make
sense until I find out. [pause] Chalk monkey!
> I've secured a place with
>Prince Avery,
CROW: He's going to make me Minister of the Exchequer or something.
> and I'd like you to join me. I want to see if I can get
>you inside the Odyssey.
TOM: They'll have to get Gary Lockwood and Kier Dullea to scooch over.
> After all, that was what you're here for."
CROW: I thought she was there simply to assist Beverly?
> "How are you going to convince the Prince to trust me?" Clara
>said.
MIKE: Just hold your hand out, palm down, and let him sniff it.
> "After all, his father is currently being held by a noble that
>I've heard called everything from cruel to perverted.
CROW: But ya doesn't has to call him Johnson!
> It's rumored
>that he was behind the late Earl of Dunsen-on-Fasstime's death, and
>the four children on the Earl's three daughters."
MIKE: [Marrissa] Ah, I see you've decided not to make any sense either
purple socks face!
> "I thought those children were those of the late Earl Drake of
>Avtra," Marrissa said.
CROW: Wait, I thought they were from when Ross had that fling with
Rachel when Joey and Chandler entered that pie-eating contest!
> "Lord Harlan met someone here last night and I happened to
>over hear," Clara said.
TOM: [Clara] Plus, there was this big expose on "Inside Edition".
> "The oldest has green eyes and red hair, just
>like Lord Henry.
MIKE: Sounds like this guy I knew in high school. The Army asked him
to quit.
> The Countess of Dunsen-on-Fasstime has blue eyes and
>brown hair, and Earl Drake had blond hair and blue eyes. It can't be
>Earl Drake's child."
CROW: Yeah, cuz there's no such thing as recessive genes and suchlike.
> "Now that puts an interesting spin on things," Marrissa said,
>as their food arrived. "Now, what's this I hear about you and Bert
>Manning on the ship?"
MIKE: Huh? Clara's dating Glenn Manning?
CROW: I guess that new bread-scented cologne did the trick.
> "He's just a friend," Clara said, before digging into her
>food.
TOM: Nah, I don't see it. They're incompatible. Glenn Manning's a
soulless, slobbering, stumbling, destructive lout, while Clara's
an engineer! They - oh, wait...
> A long drum roll of thunder filled the room,
CROW: Ladies and gentlemen, the Fasstime Raddison is proud to present,
in concert - REO Speedwagon!
> and in the
>silence that followed, the beat of pounding rain could be heard on the
>windows of the inn.
>
MIKE: Kind of a ominous way to end such a boring scene.
TOM: Reading Ratliff's sense of drama is like listening to Mitch
Miller try to sing the Theme from "Shaft".
> Lightning streaked the sky outside the room in the Avtra Ducal
>Residence that Avery and Hayley had been assigned.
ALL: Frau Blucher!
> The room was on
>top of the building's central tower, and not really that big.
TOM: So you folks at home, don't go getting all jealous or anything.
> Just
>room enough for the bed, a night stand, a fire place, and that was it.
CROW: Well, okay, maybe a dressing table and an orchestra pit, too,
but that was *really* it!
> Avery stood next to the window, candlestick in hand.
MIKE: It's like Hitchcock practice.
>The thick window pane was streaked with rivulets of the pouring rain,
TOM: George Clooney and Marky Mark were looking worried.
> but
>even so, he could just make out the Odyssey when lightening lit up the
>sky.
CROW: But not when darkening darkened it.
> Most of the people that Avery felt he could trust were gathered
>in this edifice on the edge of town.
MIKE: Sadly, that list consisted of the castle janitor, the night shift
manager from the Circle K, and his blow-up Jolene Blalock doll.
CROW: Sounds like someone has an Edifice complex!
TOM: [Annoyed] Shut up!
> For a moment his eyes were drawn to Hayley, who was trying to
>find a comfortable position to sleep in.
TOM: Despite what Marrissa told her, hanging upside down by her knees
just wasn't gettin' it!
> She'd definitely get to sleep
>before Avery did. He had too much on his mind. Tomorrow, he was
>taking charge of things.
MIKE: But tonight? It's a Micheloeb moment.
> It was his right, his responsibility, his
>duty. True, he wouldn't have his majority for another year and a
>half, but there were precedents.
TOM: Yeah, it never stopped Dubya.
> His own namesake, King Avery II, had led an army to rescue his
>father, King Ferrel IV, when the Duke of Avtra at the time had held
>him hostage.
CROW: You know, this sounds like a sequel to the Apple Dumpling Gang.
> That probably wouldn't help him though. Avery really
>had no idea what he was going to do,
TOM: And Ratliff's probably not too sure, either.
> so he stood by the window,
>watching the rain and lightning, and listening to the patter of rain
>between the peels of thunder.
CROW: Oh, God, this scene has "song cue" written all over it!
MIKE: It's Prince Critter.
> "Are you going to stand there all night?" the soft voice of
>his intended came from the bed.
MIKE: [Hayley] You're starting to really creep me out!
> Avery turned to see Hayley sitting up,
>holding the covers up against her breasts.
TOM: [Disgusted] Gaah! Stop talking about her breasts!
CROW: Why? What's so bad about it?
TOM: Crow, she's like, thirteen!
CROW: So, it's- [Thinking about it] Eww! That's unsavory!
> "I can't sleep," Avery said. "I've got too much on my mind."
> "Well, you need sleep, and you're not going to get it standing
>by the window," Hayley said as a lightning flash illuminated the room.
MIKE: [Hayley] Unless you're like, some kind of freak who can sleep
standing up. You freak.
> "Maybe not, but I'm not sure I'd get it in bed either," Avery
>said.
CROW: He shoulda sprung for the quarter-activated jobbie.
> "I promise that I won't do any of the things that my mother
>suggested," Hayley said,
TOM: Whoa! Hey, is this Ratliff's idea of a lemon? Because if
it is, I will hurt someone very badly.
> as the distant roll of thunder reached the
>tower room. "I don't want to have a wedding like mother's."
> "How's that?" Avery asked, as he walked over to the night
>stand.
CROW: [Hayley] Locked in the bathroom crying while dad sang old
sea shanties outside all night.
> "Mother was six months gone with me by the time that they
>finished arranging the wedding to my father," Hayley said, laying back
>down as Avery placed his candle on the night stand.
TOM: So she was married posthumously?
> "Okay, not tonight then," Avery said, pulling back the covers
>a little and sitting down on the bed. "My mind is elsewhere, anyway."
MIKE: Wichita. No one knows why.
> "I know," Hayley said, as Avery blew out the candle and
>crawled under the covers. "Why don't you tell me about what's on your
>mind?
TOM: Now it's turned into an hilarious teen sex romp! Haha, what fun!
[Turns to Mike] Kill me.
MIKE: No.
> Mother always said that talking to Father helped her sort out
>things. Maybe I can be... what did she call it... your sounding
>board."
CROW: Weekend nights on Time Warner cable channel 7.
> "Sounding board?" Avery asked.
TOM: [Hayley] You know - a big, dull piece of lumber.
MIKE: [Avery] I dunno, you're over qualified.
> "It's a musical term from Uncle Cedric," Hayley said,
>snuggling her warm body up against Avery. "He once made a living as
>the Court Minstrel.
MIKE: Now he has his own band, The Shrieking Silverfish.
> It's the piece of wood on the back of a lute or
>violin that reflects the sound back out of the instrument. It
>improves the richness of the sound the instrument...
CROW: Except in Uncle Cedric's case.
> I spent too much
>time talking to Uncle Cedric, did I not?
MIKE: And the correct response when a woman asks this kind of question is...?
BOTS: [In unison] What's on TV right now?
MIKE: Good. I have trained you well.
> Avery turned to face Hayley before responding. "I don't know.
>My mother always said that a good ruler should always be well rounded.
TOM: [Avery] 'Course, she'd blimped out to 350 when she said it.
>I play the flute myself."
MIKE: Bah! Only sissies play the flute!
TOM: Oh, got pretty good at it, did you, Mike?
MIKE: [Sheepish] Well, I wasn't too bad.
> "I play the lute, violin, and piccolo," Hayley said.
MIKE: All at once? I wanna see.
CROW: I bet she's got to take her shoes off to do it.
> "At
>least I do those well. Uncle Cedric gets tired of me asking him to
>teach me to play different instruments.
CROW: She keeps blowing into the cello, but nothing happens.
TOM: Still, it sounds better than the bagpipes.
> He's good on over thirty,
MIKE: Don't trust anyone over thirty.
>master of at least seven of those."
> "So you're why he was always late coming back from Avtra,"
>Avery said,
TOM: Me, and that White Castle stop on nine.
> placing an arm around her.
> "He's not allowed to pass through Castrome without stopping to
>see Mother and Father," Hayley said.
CROW: [Hayley] He still owes for 3 months' room and board. Probably never
see a dime, but they keep on trying.
> "It's Mother's orders, with
>Grandfather's concurrence, it's probably one of the few things they
>both agree on."
TOM: Well, they also both agree on Jif Brand Peanut Butter (TM)!
*Sound of cash register*
MIKE: I gotta start selling more airtime.
> "Do your Mother and Grandfather disagree on almost
>everything?" Avery asked.
CROW: No, I just said that they only agree on that one thing because
I was trying to mislead you because I hate you!
> Hayley thought for a moment, before replying. "Not really.
>Mother has her positions that she won't give on, and Grandfather tried
>to push on those when she was young, but she held to them.
TOM: The awful legacy of being forced to eat string beans.
>Grandfather respects Mother for it, and generally they get along
>pretty well."
MIKE: [Hayley] Although there was that massive land war last year.
> "That's not what I heard," Avery said.
CROW: So my questions regarding how they got along were designed to trick
you into revealing a contradiction to my experience.
> "I recall hearing
>about something called the Great Ducal Grape Fight."
CROW: Huh? The what?!
MIKE: Maybe he just means the Tom and Jerry Great Grape Ape Show.
> Hayley giggled. "That was so fun. Would you believe it all
>started over the charge for transporting grain down the Castrome?"
TOM: [sighs] Sadly - yes. Yes we would.
> "A Castle-wide food fight between Dukes started over grain
>prices?" Avery said.
CROW: Wasn't this same plot just on "What About Jim"?
TOM: Yeah, and before that it was on "Seinfeld", and "Bosom Buddies",
and "One Day at a Time", straight back to "I Love Lucy".
> "This I have to hear.
MIKE: Good God, no you don't!
TOM: Really! Put it outta your head!
CROW: We're begging you, please, d-
> How did that happen?"
[All groan]
TOM: Oh, thank you Avery - thank you SO VERY MUCH!!!
> "It wasn't Castle-wide, just in the main hall, where Mother
>was inspecting the latest grape samples, trying to decide which crop
>to press into wine under the Ducal label," Hayley said.
TOM: It was a choice between grapes and pine needles.
> "Grandfather
>had just heard that some of the bargemen had raised their fees,
MIKE: Oh, teamster troubles.
> and
>had ridden 4 days straight from his Castle, or at least that was what
>he claimed, he was entirely too clean to have ridden that far and
>long,
CROW: [Brit] Me grandfather's really clean, then!
> to bring his people's complaint directly.
MIKE: Hayley, princess of the run-on sentence!
> Mother refused to do
>anything to stop the price raise, suggesting that they just get other
>bargemen to do the job, as she knew there were cheaper barges running.
TOM: So she just barged on ahead?
MIKE & CROW: D'oh!
>Grandfather said that only if you wanted them crushed, like some of
>these grapes, grabbed a hand full and demonstrating.
TOM: [Hayley] Now, keep in mind Gramps was off his meds that day.
CROW: So none of this would have happened if only they'd had a more
vibrant trucking industry?
> He got some of
>the juice on Mother's dress, in the process.
CROW: And the royal laundry was all out of Oxy-Clean!
> Mother wasn't happy, and
>decided to return fire,
MIKE: Tales of a Fourth Grade Dukedom.
> saying that of course some grapes would get
>crushed, and tossed a hand full of crushed grapes at him, nothing is
>perfect."
CROW: Oh, verily, for thou art a wise duke, eh? Nyuk nyuk nyuk!
> "I can't believe it."
TOM: Oh, nonononono, don't come whining to us now!
CROW: Yeah, you're the one who started it!
> "Believe, especially since Mother missed, and hit Uncle
>Cedric, who returned fire with a nearby wine skin.
MIKE: Wine's got skin?
TOM: Wine probably has a beard by now - can we pick this up just
a smidge, *please*?!
> He also hit
>Father, who then returned fire and hit me. By the time we were all
>laughing on the floor, covered with grape stains, laughing,
CROW: [Hayley] Did I mention we were laughing?
> the
>argument was forgotten, though."
TOM: [desperate] This is still a Star Trek story, right, guys? I mean,
there's still a bunch of real-life Next Generation characters around
here somewhere, huh? Huh?
MIKE: [Grim] I just don't know anymore, Servo.
CROW: All I can remember at this point is grapes. And laughter - the
bitter laughter of madness.
> They were silent for a while, listening to the soft patter of
>the rain, and the distant rumble of thunder. "Hayley, what do you
>think I should do about my Father tomorrow?" Avery asked.
MIKE: [Hayley] Throw a coconut cream pie at him.
> "What do you want to do?" Hayley asked.
CROW: I want to sing!
> "I want to go in there with my sword slashing, working killing
>everyone who dares to hold my father," Avery said. "But I can't.
TOM: [Avery] I - I didn't register my sword.
CROW: [Heston] Don't let this happen to you! Join the National Sword
Association today!
>I don't know enough. I don't have enough men. Lord Henry has all
>the cards."
MIKE: [Avery] So I can't play solitaire, either.
> "No he doesn't, but you've got to find yours," Hayley said.
>"You need to get information. The Army has to join you.
MIKE: Not a very effective recruiting slogan.
CROW: Beats the one about being an army of one, though.
> You can keep
>Lord Henry were he is, and time is on your side."
MIKE: o/` Ohhh yes it is... o/`
> "Do you really think I can win?" Avery said.
TOM: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha - no.
> "Yes, you are Prince Avery of Ellosia, son of King Richard
>from beyond the stars, you can do anything," Hayley said.
CROW: Can he stampede a herd of three-legged water buffalo through
the desert while riding a tapir?
MIKE: Um, I doubt it.
CROW: Well, he can't just do "anything" then, can he?
> "I'm not that good," Avery mumbled, before snuggling back up
>to Hayley, and falling asleep. His last though was on how good it
>felt to hold Hayley's body up against him.
>
MIKE: He said she had a beautiful body, so she *did* hold it against him.
> "Captain and Doctor have been detained.
CROW: "Leave 50,000 bars of gold-pressed latinum in the trashcan at
corner of Elm and 29th or you'll never see them again!"
> I'm investigating,
>and will report later, Marrissa." The note sat on the table in front
>of Commander Riker.
TOM: [Riker] Who do I know who's named "Captain"?
> It was all he'd received from Marrissa since
>she'd left the previous morning to explore the sewers.
MIKE: And naturally, he was more than a little concerned about the
thick brownish goo it was covered in.
> So, it sat in
>front of him on the table he and La Forge had taken in the main room.
>Her partner, Lieutenant Calgary, had not returned either.
TOM: And since the note was postmarked Vegas, they were worried,
CROW: Oh, I don't think Prince Edward Island will be reporting in
any time soon.
> "Why do I get the feeling that Marrissa is rushing off on some
>spur of the moment rescue plan?" Riker said, tossing the note off to
>La Forge.
MIKE: Let's see, hmmm - oh, yeah, because she's Marrissa.
> "Maybe so, but I don't think we can do anything about it,
>Commander," La Forge said, looking it over.
CROW: [LaForge] You know we're just supporting cast. We can go
drinking at the Verdant Hippopotamus until we're needed.
> "Except be ready for
>whatever comes our way.
TOM: This is just the kind of clear, concise planning that's made
Starfleet the premiere military organization it is today.
> I'll tell Ensign Gonzalez
MIKE: The fasted ensign in all Mexico!
> to prepare a team
>to do a quick rescue assault.
CROW: Of course, they *could* use the Enterprise's transporters to
teleport the hostages away.
TOM: Naah. That'd just be *rude*.
> It's about the only thing I can think of."
CROW: [LaForge] That and those tasty Hostess fruit pies.
TOM: [Riker] Yeah, I'd rescue the captain for one of those!
> "I should have known that Marrissa would do something like
>this," Riker said.
MIKE: [Riker] I was just too busy hitting on the serving wenches here
to do anything about it.
> "She's just like James T. Kirk. Always taking it
>upon herself to solve problems without help or back up."
TOM: Plus she's romancing a crazy green alien babe in a metal bikini
and shilling for Priceline.
> "One could look at it that way," La Forge said. "Of course,
>like Kirk, she's got extraordinary luck to go with it."
CROW: Except in this story.
> "She's also giving me gray hairs," Riker replied.
MIKE: Uh, no, that's one thing you really can't palm off on her.
TOM: [Riker] She made my beard limp and unmanageable too! Really!
> "Especially
>when I have no idea where that little girl is."
>
TOM: When she should be, say, in school or back on the ship, and not
flouncing around on a highly sensitive away mission.
CROW: So why did none of them have a communicator? Were they afraid
of solving problems quickly?
> Duke Nolan rode into the courtyard of the Avtra Ducal
>Residence on his deep blue stately rinnebeast.
TOM: Ah, the rare Smurfy Rinnebeast.
MIKE: Hey, do you guys think Duke Nolan was a better player or coach?
CROW: Well, I do know you can't teach anyone to throw fastballs like
he did.
> At his side was his
>squire, who went by Brett, everywhere but in this town.
TOM: Here, he's known as Mr. Fuzzy Pants.
> The squire
>was on a golden rinnebeast, a gift that was the envy of all the
>squires at Duke Nolan's Castle in Arm. As he came to a stop, Nolan
>looked up at the frontage of the Avtra Ducal Residence.
MIKE: [Rob Schneider] Frontage! The Frontmaster! Frontman and
Chronic! Makin' copies!
> The building
>had a black stone facing, with three towers along the front.
TOM: Sauron will be so jealous!
> Between
>them were carved black stone spikes.
CROW: [Shrek] Sure it's big, but look at the location.
> The Duke was in the majority
>when it came to the dislike of the looks of the building, but he had
>to agree with what Prince Avery had said in the message that had
>reached the Duke around midnight the night before.
TOM: The chicks *did* love it.
> It was the easiest
>to defend of all the Ducal Residences in the City of Odyssey.
MIKE: Maybe because it's so mind-numbingly ugly that no self-respecting
marauder will invade it.
> His squire dismounted first, and then helped Nolan off the
>rinnebeast. "Take the rinnebeasts to the stables, and unsaddle them,"
>the Duke ordered.
TOM: [Duke] Then saddle them again, then unsaddle them twice, then
saddle them one more time.
> "Once you're done, you can resume your real
>identity."
CROW: That of Duke Clark of Kent, a mild-mannered scribe!
> The Duke then turned to the main entrance, discovering
>Earl Cedric standing in it.
TOM: I claim this Earl for Spain!
> "Good Morning, Earl Cedric.
MIKE: [Nolan] How fares the inventory down at Earl Cedric Oldsmobile-
Buick-Mazda?
CROW: [Cedric] Forsooth! We are heavily overstocked! Everything!
Must! Go!
> May I hope
>that events have not conspired to worsen our situation since His
>Highness's dispatch to me?"
MIKE: You may, if it makes you feel any better.
> "So far, no, but it's pretty bad," Earl Cedric said, as he
>opened the door for the Duke. "We've got them contained inside
>Odyssey,
TOM: [Cedric] It took every Ziploc we had, but we did it!
> but that's all we can do at the moment. My sister-in-law,
>the Duchess Castrome,
CROW: Just in case you've forgotten.
> is in the main hall going over the reports as
>they come in. The Prince and Lady Hayley have not gotten up yet."
MIKE: [Nolan] Figures. Lazy bum.
> "We'll send Her Royal Highness to wake the Prince then," Duke
>Nolan said, entering the cool air of the stone building.
TOM: [Cedric] Uh, I wouldn't just yet! The prince doesn't like to
wake up before noon, he's been drinking all night and I'm pretty
sure he has a shotgun in there!
> "My niece will no doubt enjoy the interruption," Earl Cedric
>said,
CROW: [Cedric] She's getting tired of playing canasta all night.
> leading the way the main hall, a two story tall room, lined with
>the shields that the Dukes of Avtra had taken over the years.
MIKE: Along with their Yarnells, too.
> Duchess
>Desiree was seated at the table, not at the head though.
CROW: Of course not. You're silly for even suggesting it.
> That was
>pointedly covered with a dark blue cloak that had gold edging on it
>and the subtle insignia of the Royal House of York.
TOM: A picture of Fergie hawking Slimfast?
> A similar ladies
>green cloak was occupying a chair behind and to the right of the head
>the table.
CROW: Got it?
MIKE: Hold on - [scribble] "behind - and - to - the - right". OK, got it.
> The Duchess looked up. "I hope she doesn't," the Duchess
>said. "I had them together for a reason.
CROW: [Duchess] His creepiness and her vacuousness cancel each other out.
> Ellosia needs more heirs
>soon. Lord Henry's coup attempt shows us just how badly."
TOM: So this is, what, the royal version of a puppy mill?!?
MIKE: This is just wrong!
CROW: But still less offensive than "Temptation Island".
MIKE: True.
> "So security wasn't your only concern last night," Earl Cedric
>said,
TOM: I think it takes more than a night or two to get an heir.
> taking a seat across from the Duchess. "You better not let
>Avery hear about your other motive."
MIKE: [Cedric] In fact, I wish you hadn't told me. I feel a bit ill now.
> "Is someone trying to hide something from my brother?" said a
>new voice.
TOM: Liberace!
CROW: [Liberace] I wish my brother George were king.
> It was Duke Nolan's squire, who had unbound her breasts,
ALL: GAAH!
TOM: That one just snuck up on us!
>and switched her tunic to the light purple and silver one she favored
>as a member of the Royal Family. "Maybe something I can tease him
>about?"
MIKE: Thank God - a mature point of view at last.
> "Just about encouraging him to produce an heir," Duke Nolan
>said, turning back from where he'd been about to take a seat by
>Cedric, closer to the head of the table. "Which reminds me,
TOM: [Nolan] I need it. Badly!
> I should
>talk to your father about you and my son Treavor. And don't you go
>denying the ball two months ago, Princess Brittany."
CROW: Yeah, I don't care what the ref said, you were double-dribbling!
> Princess Brittany blushed and looked away, refusing to meet
>anyone's eyes as she replied, "I don't know what you're talking
>about."
MIKE: Well you see, it started twenty years ago when the USS Odyssey
was damaged in a battle with the Cardassians...
> "Perhaps I can refresh your memory,
CROW: [Brittany] Can I get a 4 Gig DIMM unit?
> the balcony over the
>garden and a certain discarded sword of my son's that you threw off
>it," the Duke said.
MIKE: Yep, sounds like a date to me!
> "But I've already told you about my middle son's
>ways. Earl Cedric, where is Prince Avery quartered?"
TOM: Over there. And there. And there and there.
> "At the top of the middle tower," Cedric said. "If you'll
>take the main stairs to the next floor, then a right, the stairs to
>the upper parts of the tower are straight ahead.
MIKE: [Cedric] Go back downstairs, turn right, go ahead ten paces, turn
left, go up, turn right, walk back down, and make noises like a duck.
CROW: Every single building on this planet was designed by M.C. Escher!
On crack!
> Wake up the Prince
>and his intended. He's supposed to be in charge here."
>
CROW: Ah, this makes me nostalgic for the Reagan Administration.
> Lord Henry strode into the throne room,
TOM: o/` I'm Henry the Eighth I am, I am! o/`
> as his men began to
>search the King and his gathered friends from the fleet.
MIKE: Man, airport security is just ferocious these days!
> He stroked
>his medium length red beard, as he approached the throne.
MIKE: That's not Lord Henry! That's Duke Henry from "Army of Darkness"!
CROW: [Bruce Campbell] Well HELLO Mr. Fancy Pants!
> Before he
>took sat down, he paused, looking over the chair.
MIKE: [Henry] I could sit in it, but that'd be a little obnoxious,
don't you think?
> It was a high
>backed chair, with golden rinnebeast hide.
TOM: It's mirror-universe Kirk's chair.
> The arm rests were
>supported with engraved silver rods. It wasn't the traditional one
>that all the Kings of Ellosia sat in during their coronation.
CROW: It didn't have the Velveteen Royal Remote and TV Guide holder.
> "Where is the real throne?" Lord Henry said, turning fast.
MIKE: There is none. They're all props.
> "If you're talking about five century old throne of kings,"
CROW: Yes, the *real* throne, thank you.
>King Richard began, from his seated position, not even facing Lord
>Henry, "it's under repair, if it can be repaired.
MIKE: [King] I let Louie Anderson sit in it.
> I'm afraid it
>didn't stand up well to Brittany's last visit home."
TOM: She hit it, baby, one more time.
> "Where is it being repaired? And where is Princess Brittany?"
MIKE: [Henry] And where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?
>Lord Henry asked, approaching the King.
> "The throne is at William Woodsmith's on Salisbury Street,"
>Lord Harlan replied for the King.
MIKE: With a name like William Woodsmith he had to become a carpenter.
TOM: Or just bitter.
> "Under guard of course.
TOM: Yep, the king is basically on his own, but they've got a lousy
chair surrounded by a full platoon.
CROW: Well, kings are a dime a dozen, but really nice chairs are hard
to come by.
> You can't
>leave such a historic object without protection. Who knows who might
>march in and steal it."
CROW: If *you* know, write us here at the studio and tell us.
> "Like I just marched in and took your castle?" Lord Henry
>replied.
MIKE: [King] Yeah, just like th- hey!
> "So much for your vaunted protection.
CROW: [Henry] I have your vaunts in custody!
> Sir Walter!
MIKE: Go out and discover tobacco!
> Prepare
>a plan to pick up that throne. We're going to need it soon.
MIKE: [Sir Walter] Why don't I just go get it, sir?
> Sir
>Edward!
MIKE: [Lord Henry] Where did you go that you were gone so long?
> I find out whose in charge in the city, and deliver our terms
>for the surrender of the city to us."
CROW: [Henry] And don't forget the part about the big bowl of M&M's
with all the brown ones picked out!
> As the two knights exited the throne room, King Richard spoke
>up. "My condolences on the death of your father, your grace,
TOM: [Henry] Oh, don't try to butter me up.
> but we
>don't believe assaulting your liege lord is a very good way begin ones
>rule.
MIKE: Why not start with a simple insurrection in the morning, another at
lunch, and a sensible bloodless coup d'etat in the evening?
> In fact, it's quite likely to prevent your confirmation as Duke
>of Fasstime."
CROW: I get the feeling the king's not real quick on the uptake.
TOM: That or he has the most inappropriate sense of humor since, um...
CROW: Since you, pretty much.
TOM: Right, he's - huh?!?
> Lord Henry turned walked back to the throne, and sat down on
>it before replying. "I don't think you get it Richard.
MIKE: [Henry] Let's try it again. Three monkeys walk into a bar...
> I'm not here
>to ask to succeed my weak father, who could not stand up to an
>interloping foreigner
TOM: [Henry] I'm here to fail in my own unique way.
> and let the throne slip through his fingers.
CROW: Boy, those are some widely spaced digits.
MIKE: All that inbreeding.
>I'm here to replace you.
TOM: You have an hour to clear out your desk. Leave your badges with
the secretary!
> By the end of the week you and your son will
>be dead, and your daughter will be starting her life as the mother of
>my heirs."
MIKE: You know, if I ever decide to get married and I have to get her
parents' blessing, I'm gonna do it by raising an army to invade
their house and threatening the lives of their other children.
CROW: What if they don't have any children?
MIKE: Then I'll threaten their pets.
TOM: What if they don't have any pets?
MIKE: Then I'll threaten Vince Coleman.
CROW: Oooh.
TOM: Well thought out.
> Not a single sound came from the King or his advisors for the
>next ten minutes.
>
CROW: Wisely, Henry had used the Royal "Mute" Button.
> Prince Avery awoke to the pounding on his door and a familiar
>voice calling for him to wake.
TOM: [Avery] Aw man, did I fall asleep in the stockroom *again*?!?
> As he woke, he pulled Hayley closer,
>like he would have normally done to his blankets.
MIKE: Scrunching her up and pulling her over his head, then tossing
her in the laundry basket in the morning.
> It was Hayley's
>mumbling of "morning already" that finally woke him up fully to his
>surroundings.
CROW: o/` The best part of waking up... o/`
> He looked slightly down at his intended, before moving
>in for a kiss. As he pulled away from that kiss, he spoke,
MIKE: [Avery] Urgh, talk about morning breath!
> "Time to
>get up Hayley."
> His intended's eye's slowly opened, taking in the view as he
>got out of bed,
CROW: She did her best to stifle her sarcastic snickering.
> and reached down to where his tunic and trousers were.
TOM: Oh, this is the one where he's been sped up thousands of time
mere mortal speeds.
>"What we aren't going to try any of those things Mother told me
>about," Hayley said,
MIKE: She wants to run with scissors and not brush after every meal.
> in a tone that Avery was beginning to classify as
>teasing.
CROW: And which he was already sick and tired of.
> "Avery, get up and open the door now, or I'm going to take the
>door down!" said his sister Brittany from the other side of the door.
TOM: Is this *really* the time to remodel?
> "I would, my lady, but I'm afraid that my royal sister would
>interrupt us before we got any where," Avery replied. "You better get
>dressed before she takes down the door."
MIKE: It's TLC's newest hit series, "Trading Castles".
> Then Avery took a deep
>breath and replied to his sister. "I'm up Brattany!
TOM: "Brattany"?
CROW: Johnson's Brat-tanies?
> I'll be out as
>soon as I get dressed."
> "I'll believe it when the door opens!" Brittany yelled back.
TOM: [Brittany] I have no faith without empirical evidence!
>"And don't call me Brattany!"
MIKE: Well, it's nice to know the fate of the kingdom rests in such
mature, capable hands.
TOM: Yeah, the peasants are already getting their "Yey for Henry"
banners drawn up.
CROW: Or they would if they weren't totally illiterate.
> Avery swiftly put his clothes on, and walked over to the door.
>He looked back at Hayley, who was still in bed. "Better stay there
>until I handle Brittany," he said, before jerking the door open.
CROW: [Avery] Try to look as naked and whorish as you possibly can.
MIKE: Oh, *this* certainly won't give her any reason to mercilessly
tease and ridicule him.
>Princess Brittany immediately tumbled into the room. "Really, sister,
>you shouldn't lean on the doors like that. You never know when I'm
>going to open one."
CROW: That's why she wants you to wear this bell around your neck.
> "Humph. Is this any way to greet your sister whose been away
>for six months?" Brittany said, as she stood up.
TOM: At CIA training camp, apparently.
> "When she tries to barge into my room, yes," Avery said.
>"Let's step outside to finish this conversation, so Hayley can get
>dressed."
MIKE: Let's step out of this dry wit and into a warm martini.
> As the door closed behind the two, Brittany replied with a
>saucy smile,
TOM: Oh, saucy Worcester!
> "Get dressed? What interesting and perverted things did
>you do with the Duchesses's oldest daughter?"
CROW: So remind me again, *how* old is this kid?
MIKE: Thirteen. Going on about 45, apparently.
> Avery sat down on the steps down to the floor below to wait,
>and said. "We just cuddled last night. We're not scheduled to get
>married for another week.
TOM: After that, no more cuddling. Ever.
MIKE: I get the feeling these guys are going to need instructions
when they finally do get married.
> Though I think the Duchess wanted us to do
>some of those things."
CROW: This is almost as creepy as that whole "Peeping Mom" thing we
saw in "Soultaker".
TOM: Yeah, but on the bright side, at least we won't find Robert Z'dar
and his immense chin waiting for us around the corner.
> "Mom did tell us about where she found the Duchess during the
>Council on the Castrome succession," Brittany said,
CROW: Hiding in the cellar, bitterly cursing her life?
> idly adjusting her
>sword belt. "It was darn right stupid
MIKE: Well gosh willickers heck!
> to exclude her from that
>discussion, and even stupider to let her and Lord Elden go without any
>escort."
TOM: Or a Taurus, or even a Fiesta!
> "I heard you nearly got caught with my friend Treavor in Arm a
>couple weeks ago," Avery said.
CROW: They're arm in arm in Arm.
MIKE: And now it's time for Abrupt Change of Subject Theatre. I know
people who like to go deer hunting!
> "So I got a little carried away," Brittany said, slumping
>against the outer wall.
TOM: I wish someone would carry *me* away right now. Far, far away.
> "He's one of the few people I encounter that
>know I'm a girl when I'm posing as Squire Brett, and I can let the act
>down around him."
CROW: It's like a wacky, backwards, smutty, unfunny version of "Some Like
It Hot".
> "That's not all that I heard went down!" Avery replied.
ALL: WOAH!
CROW: This - I mean - it's not -
TOM: Mike, what's happened here? Ratliff's suddenly gone from
Treknotripe to penny dreadfuls about bawdy, barely-pubescent
royal twits!
MIKE: I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.
TOM: One that *doesn't* include mass hysteria on our parts?!?
MIKE: Well, geez, if you're going to qualify it...
> Brittany blushed, as she stammered her reply, "We just
>kissed."
MIKE: With our tingly parts.
> "And one of your bindings ended up in his quarters on the
>Godspeed, how?" Avery asked.
TOM: [Brittany] I was doing my book report there, okay?
> The door opened to reveal Lady Hayley, saving a red-faced
>Princess from explaining. Lady Hayley had been fortunate enough to
>get a change of clothes.
CROW: Everyone else was buck naked.
TOM: Right now, I wouldn't be a bit surprised.
> Avery was still wearing his riding clothes
>from the day before, minus the cloak, which he'd left behind in the
>main hall.
MIKE: Surprisingly, a lot of your princess-types gravitate towards
guys who smell like day-old lizards.
> Lady Hayley, however, was now dressed in a deep green
>frock,
TOM: She's ready for her first day waiting tables at O'Charleys.
> with golden clasps holding a similarly green cloak, emblazoned
>with the golden Latin cross of Castrome.
CROW: Reformed orthodox liberal traditionalist reestablished denomination.
> "Good Morning, your
>highness," Lady Hayley greeted her future sister-in-law.
> "Good Morning Hayley," Brittany said. "I'm sorry if I
>interrupted your sleep when I woke my brother."
> "I needed to get up anyway," Hayley said.
TOM: [Hayley] He snores like a buzzsaw in heat!
> "I hope you don't
>plan on waking Avery up like that every day, though."
MIKE: [Brittany] Oh no! Of course not! I have an endless supply of
airhorns.
> "This was a mild one.
CROW: [Brittany] Most mornings we start with death threats and work
our way up from there.
> Usually I barge in and throw some water
>on him," Brittany replied, as they reached the bottom of the tower
>stairs.
MIKE: [shaking head] It's like the Tudors and the Plantagenets
as played by the Three Stooges.
> "Yeah. It's a good thing that my bed dries quickly," Avery
>replied,
TOM: Oh, man, so *many* double entendres here I don't know *where*
to start!
> as they turned passed though the archway that opened up on
>main hall. "Good Morning, your graces." Avery called from the head of
>the stairs.
ALL: How ya doin'?
> As he descended, he continued. "I supposed it's too much
>to hope that events have improved our situation since her grace
>suggested that I get some sleep with her daughter."
MIKE: Let's see - father captured...
TOM: Mother gravely ill...
CROW: On the run from hostile forces...
TOM: Your little sister's just arrived...
MIKE: In need of a cold shower - and not just because you smell like
yesterday's rinnebeast...
CROW: And your destiny's in Marrissa's hands.
MIKE: Yep. Better just give up now.
> "I am afraid not, your highness," Earl Cedric said, as Avery
>walked over to the table. "No one really is sure whose in charge.
TOM: I keep telling you, it's Cheney!
CROW: Oh, c'mon, obviously Condie Rice is the true power.
>Lord Henry is still holding your father and most of the privy council
>hostage. We have at least confined him to the Odyssey."
CROW: So he's "trapped" in the palace made out of a starship, and
everyone else is squatting in piles of rock. Good thinking.
> Prince Avery reached his chair, and picked up his cloak,
>putting it on before taking a seat. "Your grace, Nolan, Duke of
>Armedge, and your grace, Desiree, Duchess of Castrome,
TOM: [Avery] You two know each other? OK, just checkin'.
> I request that
>as two of the senior dukes of Ellosia, a determination on my Father,
>his Majesty, King Richard's
CROW: All three of them?
> ability to rule the kingdom at this time,"
>he asked.
> "As the King is currently being held hostage, I believe that
>he is not able to rule as long as that condition remains," Duke Nolan
>responded.
MIKE: Quite perceptive, that Nolan.
CROW: All this and more, in the next issue of "Duh!"
> "I agree, with his grace," Duchess Desiree said. "Though I
>fail to see how that helps us."
TOM: Hey, if it gets this shipwreck of a story moving, I'm all for it!
> "I do," Earl Cedric said. "As a member of the Privy Council,
>and a representative of my father, his grace, Murdock, Duke of Avtra,
CROW: The three of *them*?
>I move that a call for all members of the Council who are available be
>summoned, and that per the determination of Castrome and Armedge, rule
>of Ellosia has devolved
MIKE: Og King now! Hail Og!
BOTS: Hail Og! Him King!
> onto the shoulders of his highness, the Crown
>Prince, Prince Avery and the Privy Council until the King is freed."
TOM: No matter what century you're from or what planet you're on,
children always grow up fast.
> "He's still short of eighteen," Duchess Desiree said. "He
>can't rule yet."
CROW: [Avery] Well, how about making me King of the Kids' Court, then?
> "I can't rule alone, yet," Prince Avery replied. "I can head
>the Privy Council, though, now that I'm sixteen.
MIKE: And can work the plunger.
> Now can we get onto
>business?"
TOM: The kingdom is saved via a shrewd profit and loss statement. At
least until the Feds stick their crummy noses in, anyway!
> "Certainly, your highness," Earl Cedric said. "What would you
>like to hear about first?"
MIKE: [Avery] Is it true about J Lo & Ben Affleck?
> "Let's start with what forces we have available around us, and
>their loyalties," Avery said.
CROW: All Cubs fans on one side of the room, all the White Soxers
on the other.
> "Earl Cedric, any problems with the
>guard force in the city?"
MIKE: [Cedric] They keep taking five-hour coffee breaks.
> "I haven't found any, yet," Cedric said.
TOM: Other than the fact that as guards, they're about as effective
as Corporal Klinger.
> "They are some what
>demoralized, given how the Odyssey was taken. I don't know how Lord
>Henry got all those men within our layered defenses."
CROW: [Cedric] But I'm sure that giant wooden rinnebeast we brought
inside the city had nothing to so with it.
> "I do," came a voice from the door. It was a young girl who
>looked sort of like Lady Hayley,
TOM: ...if you squinted hard and kind of turned your head sideways.
> accompanied by a younger dark-haired
>girl.
CROW: Daria Morgendorffer and Jane Lane, ladies and gents!
> The elder of the two was wearing the tunic and trousers of a
>merchant ship's officer. "Marrissa Picard, third mate of the merchant
>ship Stargazer,
MIKE: And coffee achiever.
> at your service.
TOM: [Marrissa] You may bow down and pay homage now.
> This is my friend Clara, whose going
>to be attending the Royal School soon."
CROW: [Marrissa] She's going to learn to be as big a twit as you
clowns already are.
> "Please join us, Marrissa," Avery replied, pointing to a
>couple open chairs. "Marrissa helped Hayley and I escape from Lord
>Henry's men at the stables."
TOM: They fell for the old pantomime rinnebeast gag. Suckers!
> "Hayley told me about your sword work," the Duchess said.
>"Most impressive work, even if you did lose your lunch afterwards."
CROW: [Duchess] As a reward, please accept this coupon good for a free
Whopper at most participating Burger Kings.
> "Thank you, your grace," Marrissa responded.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Let me drape intestines all over you and see how *you*
react. Pompous twit...
> "So, just how did Lord Henry get five hundred men inside our
>defenses?" Earl Cedric asked.
MIKE: He just made an end sweep around the left side of the field.
The whole league knows you guys always block right.
> "He used the sewer," Marrissa said.
TOM: [Cedric] Well, that explains why all our forces reported the
invaders were icky.
> "I barely escaped from
>him when I came across him there and barely escaped him early
>yesterday."
CROW: So she barely escaped?
MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions.
> "What were you doing in the sewer?" Duke Nolan asked, with a
>suspicious glare.
CROW: [Marrissa] Have you seen the lines at the ladies' room?!?
> "Dad, my Captain, wanted to see if the reason he was being
>undercut when he sold his goods was because someone was sneaking goods
>in without paying the harbor tax," Marrissa said, with a grin.
TOM: [Marrissa] I can't believe they're actually buying this.
Mike The ol' harbor tax down the drain gag, works very time.
> "He
>was right, and I bet Lord Henry was running that operation as a cover,
>as it looked like it was being taken down."
CROW: The natural first step to overthrowing the crown - running a black
market cigarette ring.
> "Cedric, get some guards on those sewer outlets," Avery
>ordered.
TOM: Now that it's too late, we should take the obvious defenses.
> "And if you get Dustin, in the City Services Office to work
>on something to prevent people from using them as a way into the city
>again.
CROW: It's called a grate.
> He taught me how they work a couple years back, and might be
>able to fix it without backing the sewers up.
MIKE: Boy, I hate it when the lines get clogged up with enemy soldiers
and stuff - Roto-Rooter charges a premium for that.
> Duke Nolan, since we're
>in your Dukedom, perhaps you can tell us about the forces we have
>here?"
TOM: [Nolan] None in the sewers, your pretend majesty.
> "I've got most of the forces on the move at the moment," Duke
>Nolan said. "Oswald is talking a detachment to the Fasstime border so
>Lord Henry can't send any reenforcements.
MIKE: He says he's gonna stake it out from some kind of book depository.
> Geoffrey is collecting the
>Armedge Army between here and Arm,
CROW: He only needs one issue to have the whole series.
> and should arrive early tomorrow I
>hope. I don't know about the disposition of the King's forces."
MIKE: Sheepishly embarrassed, I'd imagine
> "We've got a significant force at the fort on Point Sapphire,"
>Avery said, looking up at the ceiling, where a map of the Kingdom was
>painted and trying to recall what he'd heard a couple days ago.
CROW: That's the weirdest place to put a map I've ever seen.
TOM: They probably built the room upside down.
>"There is the garrison at Hammer Pass, but we can't move that.
CROW: Not until they find roles for Christopher Lee and Boris Karloff.
> The
>rest of the forces are either in small forts along the coast, or in
>the field in Avtra for the annual training and ducal tourney."
TOM: Oh and God forbid something as minor as a *war* disrupt the
sports season.
MIKE: Hrmph. A nuclear holocaust couldn't keep my Packers from playing.
CROW: Probably couldn't help them win, though.
> "Didn't Fasstime decide not to send anyone to the tourney this
>year?" the Duchess asked, picking up her quill to make some notes.
MIKE: Nah, they said it wasn't the best tourney they were ever in,
and they wanted their money back.
> "Yes, which I found strange, especially since they cleaned up
>last year when it was their turn to host it," Duke Nolan said.
CROW: Boy, these guys are really on the ball today.
> "Yet another sign of Lord Henry's planning," Princess Brittany
>said.
TOM: So if they'd paid better attention to the sports page, they could've
headed off the attack?
> "I wonder how many pieces of the puzzle we've missed.
MIKE: Well, there's one of the corners, and it looks like you're missing
part of Marrissa's ear and hair there...
> Avery,
>I'd like to get in contact with some of Lord Harlan's staff in town,
>if you don't mind."
TOM: [Avery] Not now, Brittany.
CROW: [Brittany] But Chad *promised* he'd call!
> "Fine, in fact, I want you to run our intelligence operation,"
>Avery said.
TOM: The kingdom has no intelligence? I'm not surprised.
> "Please, Avery, I'm only thirteen," Brittany replied.
CROW: ["Clerks"] I'm not even supposed to *be* here today!
MIKE: She's much too old to run things in the Ratliffverse.
> "Brit, you're the only one of us that Lord Henry and his ilk
>wouldn't spot," Avery replied.
TOM: Damn these antlers and bright orange skins!
> "The Duke and Duchess are well known,
>and Earl Cedric has spent his life at court. Marrissa encountered
>Lord Henry in the sewer.
MIKE: So you can go in as you are, but the rest of us have to wear
goggly eyes.
> Where as you look nothing like you did a
>year and a half ago at court, the last time Lord Henry was here.
CROW: Thanks to her implants, no one actually looks at her face any more.
> In
>fact with that short hair cut you've got now, Marrissa's friend looks
>more like you did."
TOM: This is all leading up to a way to sneak her into Ricky's new
show down at the Tropicana.
> "You've got a point as far as a front line operative, as Lord
>Harlan calls them, goes, but I'm not ready to step in for Lord
>Harlan," Brittany said, pushing her back her short hair.
MIKE: The most awkwardly constructed sentence in the history of the
English language, everyone.
TOM: A sentence that can't be diagrammed without going into hyperspace.
> "I certainly
>wouldn't be recognized by anyone.
CROW: We don't even know who you are now.
> I spent lots of time perfecting
>disguises."
TOM: [Dana Carvey] Turtle! Turtle!
> "She does a pretty good cabin boy," Duke Nolan said, with a
>big smile.
CROW: Would you like to buy a monkey?
> "I think my son's last ship's crew was totally fooled."
MIKE: Brittany must get her disguise lessons from Marrissa.
> "Sister, when we're out of this, Father and I will be talking
>with Duke Nolan," Avery said.
CROW: They're gonna trade her for two outfielders and a relief pitcher
to be named later.
> "Maybe we can even make it a double
>wedding."
MIKE: Oh, let's be puckish and make it a pentuple wedding.
> Princess Brittany's face was rabidly turning redder.
TOM: RRRRRRRRRRR!!!! RRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!
>I can't have my little sister taking a chance of having children out
>of wedlock, after all.
CROW: Well, abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.
> Treavor may claim to have a lady in every port,
MIKE: [Avery] That's a goal I want you to work towards, too, Brit.
>but if you're going to be one of them, you're going to be the legal
>one."
TOM: So she has to get her law degree before she can date?
MIKE: Wow, strict family.
> Suddenly the main door to the hall opened with a bang,
TOM: First rule of musical theater, always open the main door to the
hall with a bang!
> as it's
>well oiled hinges allowed it to swing all the way open.
CROW: Look, everyone! The door worked!
[All cheer]
> Standing in
>the doorway was an army courier, identified by his tan and olive tunic
>and cloak.
MIKE: Or he may be part of the staff at the Castrome Pep Boys.
> The insigna on his left breast identified him as part of
>the direct royal controlled unit, and attached to Lord Palmer's
>command.
TOM: There was also a 400-mile rope tied to his waist.
> The man quickly took in the room, and noted Prince Avery
>sitting at the head of the table. The heavy breathing courier
CROW: *hunnh* *hunnh* So, your majesty, *hunnh* *hunnh* what kind of
shoes are you wearing? *hunnh**hunnh**hunnh**hunnh*
>approached and kneeled. "Your highness, I bring bad news from Army
>Command.
MIKE: [Courier] We're out of creamed chipped beef on toast.
> Lord Palmer is dead."
CROW: Wrapped in plastic.
TOM: Call Chief Royal Inspector Cooper!
>
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
CROW: And in the "Bring the Pain" sweepstakes, Stevie makes his move
for the lead, threatening to pass Guerin by a hair.
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
MIKE: He'd huff and puff and blow your house down, but he just threw his
hip out.
>
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-01!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!
>nntp-relay.ihug.net!ihug.co.nz!west.cox.net!cox.net!
>newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
MIKE: Huh? "Trekiverse"?
TOM: This bodes ill.
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 10/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <snfkmus8kgi93rcpl3as8obpvv28jd9qta@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
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>Date: Mon, 26 Aug 2002 13:48:20 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.188.177.232
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
CROW: Dear abuse@earthlink.net, my shorts are too tight
MIKE: Hey, abuse@earthlink.net, I think I ate some baloney last night
that was a little past its date, and now my tummy hurts!
TOM: Listen up, abuse@earthlink.net - your junky little Toyota Celica
put a scratch in my brand new Navigator, you punk!
>X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1030369700 63.188.177.232
>(Mon, 26 Aug 2002 06:48:20 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 26 Aug 2002 06:48:20 PDT
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:160611
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 10/16 Serialized Biweekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
TOM: That was actually original premise for "The West Wing"
>
>Chapter Nine: The Shortcomings of Planning
>
MIKE: Sure, planning *sounds* good, but it won't keep your laundry
rainwater fresh.
CROW: Boy, what a gyp planning is!
> Princess Brittany had drawn dawn watch from the harbor town in
>her Squire Brett guise. She was trying to maintain that image, for
>the moment.
TOM: She had 8 PR firms working around the clock!
> It gave her a little edge in the information line. She
>could pick the brains of the men,
MIKE: Then when she was done picking their brains, she'd eat them.
BOTS: Brains! Arrrrh! Arrh! Brains!
> as a male squire, getting the wisdom
>and knowledge of the general solider.
TOM: So basically she learns how to make deer jerky.
> As a Princess, she'd have to
>use other methods to get the same information, methods she wasn't
>comfortable with.
CROW: You mean like just flat out asking them?
TOM: Ah. just 'em in a room with Marrissa for 5 minutes - they'll crack
faster than cheap New Jersey plaster!
> Today Brittany was paired with a young neophyte to the army,
MIKE: He's a baby-faced, wet-behind-the-ears soldier guarding a feudal port!
CROW: She's a persnickety, pubescent princess who loves to cross-dress!
TOM: Together, they fight crime!
>not the best choice for getting information on what the army thought,
>but this time at least, it was the post and what could be seen from
>there that lead her to ask for the assignment.
MIKE: She can see the drive-in screen playing "My Big Fat Greek Wedding".
> As the sun rose from
>the sea, she looked across the harbor. There were about a dozen ships
>in the harbor at the moment, none of them being warships.
CROW: Didn't Descartes say, "I think, therefore I am a warship"?
TOM: No, that sounds more like Lycan.
> In Sappor
>Bay, most of those were posted at Bluepor, reserving Odyssey Harbor
>for mostly merchants.
CROW: Stupid bourgeoisie harbor jerks.
> The biggest ship in the harbor at the moment
>was the merchant 42 gun, Stargazer.
CROW: A ship with 42 guns on it, and it's *not* considered a warship?
MIKE: Are we sure this isn't a Klingon colony?
> Taking the scope, she took a close look at the Stargazer.
TOM: [Jimmy Stewart] Honey, come here! There's a menacing-looking
merchant ship I want you to see!
>A black man was standing at the watch,
TOM: Flava Flav!
> apparently arranging a drill of
>some type, judging from the frantic movement of the sailors around the
>ship.
CROW: Commodore P. Diddy choreographs his next video!
> The guns were run out, then back in.
MIKE: Then they did the Hokey Pokey and they turned the guns about.
> Brittany could see the
>black man calling out some more orders,
CROW: [Geordi] A double Whopper with cheese, large fries, and a Coke!
Bacon cheeseburger with extra large fries and a Dr. Pepper! Eight
piece chicken strip with extra dipping sauce!
> but forced herself to look
>further out.
MIKE: Thus completely ignoring the fact that "the black man" had a pair of
abnormally blue eyes.
TOM: Or wore a cross between a banana and a pair of sunglasses.
> On the horizon, she spied three ships,
MIKE: She saw three ships come sailing in!
BOTS: On Christmas Day?
MIKE: On Christmas Day.
> whose flags she could
>not see. Quickly she turned her attention to near the entrance to the
>bay. Signal flags were being run up.
TOM: As were long distance charges.
> Three hostile ships, entering
>harbor.
CROW: It's the Bismark, the Yamato, and the USS Monkey Business!
MIKE: She could tell they were hostile because the symbol on the flag
was a huge middle finger.
> "Mister James, run up our signal flag with the query to fort,
>'alliance and type.'" Brittany ordered.
CROW: [Brittany] Then just go ahead and raise the white flag. No point
in putting it off.
> "Aye, Squire," James said, going back to the flag pole, and
>choosing the signals to run up.
TOM: [James] Now let's see. This one's color scheme is all wrong. This
one is a fashion nightmare. This one's got jelly stains all over it.
This one - is this the poster to "Rattle and Hum"?! Ah, here we go!
> It wasn't long before the fort replied.
MIKE: Hey, they ran up the flag that means "Cram it"!
> "All Fasstime,"
TOM: "Are belong to us."
> Brittany read. "Dagger, 28; Saber, 28;
>Malcore, 36.
CROW: And Malcore wins by 8! Let's give them a hand!
> James, signal the fort our acknowledgment."
> Brittany picked up a piece of paper and quill, and began to
>compose a quick message.
MIKE: Dear Heath Ledger, I am your number one fan. Will you send me
an autographed picture? Love and kisses, HRH Brittany.
> Once James had come back to the watch cover,
>she handed it to him.
TOM: [Brittany] Here, cover my watch - it's getting all wet and stuff.
> "Take this to Prince Avery at the Avtra
>Palace."
MIKE: [Brittany] And don't stop at McDonalds this time.
> "Aye, Squire," James said. As he began to descend the steps,
>he noticed the signature.
CROW: [James] Cool! I can get a hundred smackers for this on YeBay!
> "H.R.H. Princess Brittany, Intel."
MIKE: Ah, she's a Pentium-Powered Princess.
>He'd have to have a talk with Squire Brett when he got back.
>
TOM: [Brittany] I hope I didn't do anything to give away my identity.
> Prince Avery tumbled as he boarded the Stargazer. It was not
>easy to board from a boat. A young girl met him, with short brown
>hair,
CROW: [girl] Here's the wig you asked for, your highness.
> in what he believed was a typical merchantman's midshipman's
>uniform. "I need to see whoever is in command, midshipman," he said,
TOM: The commander, then?
MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions.
>as she helped him to his feet.
> "Lieutenant La Forge has command at the moment, sir," the
>female midshipman said.
CROW: [Midshipman] We're doomed, pretty much.
> "He's on the quarter deck. I'll take you to
>him."
CROW: So where's Riker?
TOM: He got while the getting was good.
> "The merchant fleet appears to be much more lenient in
>recruiting requirements," the Prince said.
TOM: What, just because they left the blind guy in charge?
> "We don't have any females
>in the King's Navy."
MIKE: The Queen's Navy has just scads of them, though.
> "The Captain finds he gets better service with cabin girls
>than boys,
ALL: WOAH!
MIKE: I don't think he meant it like he wrote it.
CROW: You mean "Again"?
> and some of us have moved up, sir," the midshipman.
TOM: Just ask our new second mate, Lieutenant Commander Lewinsky.
>"My friend Marrissa is third officer, now."
> "There must be a story behind that," the Prince said as they
>reached the quarterdeck.
>
CROW: Yes. A long, dull, incomprehensibly unlikely story.
>"Someone to see you, sir," the midshipman said.
TOM: Which, considering it's LaForge, is kind of ironic.
> "Lieutenant La Forge, I presume," the Prince said.
MIKE: [British] Actually I'm Dr. Livingstone. Now who are you, and
where in the blazes is Stanley?!?
> "I'm
>Prince Avery, heir to the throne, and I'm afraid that I'm going to
>have to press your ship into service, temporarily."
>
CROW: [Avery] I need a lift to Suncoast. Third Season "Buffy" boxed
set hits the shelves at 4:00.
> Lord Henry entered the throne room, stomping.
MIKE: Just keeping time on his brooms, pails, garbage can lids...
> His face was
>red, and one could practically see the steam rising from him.
TOM: [Scotty] Cap'n, Lord Henry's overheatin'! He's gonna blow!
>One of his men approached nervously with a piece of parchment.
CROW: [Lackey] Sire, this is the ad we were thinking of putting in
tomorrow's paper.
> "Response from
>the town leaders, my lord," the man said.
MIKE: [Soldier] Sir, they called us weenies!
> Lord Henry unfolded the parchment, and began to read, "To Lord
>Henry, heir to Fasstime and currently occupier of the Odyssey, From
>His Royal Highness, Prince Avery, acting head of the Privy Council
>during the King's unavailability, the Privy Council, and Odyssey City
>Council."
TOM: [Henry] Hmm. That's the entire note.
> From over in the corner with the other hostages, Lord Dorian
>perked up with interest.
CROW: [Dorian] Did someone say "Twinkies"?
> "Hmmm, the boy may have actually listened
>when I was tutoring him," he mumbled.
TOM: [King] Say Dorian, could you please inadvertently reveal all
the information that could possibly be of use to Lord Henry?
> "It is with great pleasure that I inform you that the City of
>Odyssey will not surrender to your forces.
MIKE: We will, however, surrender to Cameron Diaz. Immediately.
> Furthermore, I, with the
>complete agreement of the Privy Council, hereby order you to surrender
>control of the Odyssey,
TOM: *You* surrender!
CROW: No, *you* surrender!
TOM: Nuh-uh, *you*!
CROW: No, *you*!
MIKE: Both of you surrender or I'll turn this car right around!
> and depart the City of Odyssey with in a day
>of your surrender, and the Kingdom of Ellosia within a week of that
>time.
CROW: Or we'll harm you!
> Should you not deliver your surrender to the Privy Council,
MIKE: ...within 30 minutes, the next invasion is 50% off.
>currently residing in the Avtra Palace,
CROW: [Avery] Which has weak security on the north wall, and a secret
entrance that can be accessed through a cave five miles to the
northeast which, if utilized, would compromise all security and make
all efforts to defend the palace completely futile (Detailed
directions from Odyssey appear on the back of this paper).
> by sunset on the ninetieth day
>of the twentieth year of the reign of our most noble father, King
>Richard I of this noble realm..."
> "He's not doing too bad, sire," Lord Dorian remarked to the
>King.
TOM: Geez, he's in the middle of a hostage situation, and he's
critiquing the guy's writing style?!
CROW: Boy, I wish *we* had that kind of devotion.
MIKE: Well, it's the journey that matters, guys, not the destination.
[Pause]
TOM: Pretentious much, Nelson?
> "...Should you decide not to take this proposal, the following
>charges will be levied against you:
TOM: [Henry, mock fear] Oh no! Charges will be filed against me!
Not charges! Anything but charges!
> Treason, against your king and
>ruler; Conspiracy to commit Treason;
CROW: Well, if they get him for actual treason, that's kind of a gimme,
isn't it?
> Murder of Lord Palmer, late
>General of His Majesty's Army; Murder of the late Earl of Dunsen;
TOM: [Prince] Plus, we think you may be involved with that whole
Jon-Benet Ramsey deal.
>Conspiracy to Commit Murder; Unlawful Imprisonment of his majesty,
>the King; Unlawful Imprisonment of various members of the Privy
>Council;
MIKE: It's Lord Rick James of Fasstime!
> Trespass on Royal Grounds; and Defilement of Public Property,
>in particular the City of Odyssey Sewer System.
CROW: *snerk* So it's treason, murder, rebellion, and making Old Man
Grundy's sink back up!
MIKE: Can a sewer system really be defiled? How could you tell?
> Sentences for these
>crimes runs anywhere from Death to a fifty pound fine..."
MIKE: [Henry] Hmmm, I think I'll take the fifty pounds.
TOM: Um... shouldn't that run in the opposite order?
> "Defilement of Public Property?" the King said.
CROW: [King] What was he thinking?! Oy, I've got a moron for a son.
> "Avery really
>must have paid attention."
> "And he has better intelligence than we do," Lord Harlan said.
TOM: [Harlan] Let's face it - collectively, we have all the brains
of a bottle of Clamato juice!
>"The murder charge of the late Earl of Dunsen means that he's got some
>information we didn't have."
CROW: So in short, Avery is doing better at ruling the kingdom than
the king.
MIKE: Sad, really.
> "Do you think Duke Murdock is going to be out for blood?" Lord
>Sidney asked.
MIKE: If he is, you can just leave a message on his machine.
> "He'll be lucky if Murdock doesn't challenge him in single
>combat," Lord Toshio said.
CROW: Hey, Murdock must be a Klingon.
> "... I await your response, signed Prince Avery Richard Paul,
MIKE: He's Mayor Teddy Burnside, your Mayor by Landslide!
>Privy Council Chair, Duchess Desiree of Castrome, Duke Nolan of
>Armedge,
CROW: Who still throws a hell of a mean fastball.
> Earl Cedric of Avtra, Princess Brittany Celeste,
TOM: Who disappeared mysteriously many years ago.
> Privy
>Council members."
CROW: NFL Commissioner Paul Tagliabue...
MIKE: AOL Chairman Steve Case...
TOM: Iron Chef Chen Kenichi...
CROW: Daily Planet Editor-in-Chief Perry White...
MIKE: Queen of Soul Aretha Franklin...
TOM: And the entire cast of "Malcolm in the Middle".
> "I want Prince Avery dead," Lord Henry concluded.
CROW: I want his family DEAD! I want his goldfish DEAD!
> "It appears that Prince Avery did listen to his lessons," Lord
>Dorian said.
MIKE: Is there an echo in here?
TOM: No, Lord Dorian is just being played by Mojo Jojo.
> "I must apologize for saying otherwise."
MIKE: Must he?
CROW: He must, Mike - he must.
> "Sometimes you don't show what you know until you get in the
>field," King Richard said.
MIKE: And sometimes you don't know you use cliches until the cow
is halfway out of the barn.
> "We certainly study the Prime Directive enough," Picard said.
TOM: AAAGHH!! Come on, you twits! FOCUS! You're being held hostage
by an unscrupulous, bloodthirsty, power-mad traitor - save the
grammar lessons and regulation-quoting for *after*!!!
> "Jean-Luc, if you can find a better way to minimize our Prime
>Directive violations, I'd like to hear it,
MIKE: Hmmm... hey, here's one. How about *not* crashing your ship into
the capital and seizing power?
> because I couldn't find one
>in all this time," King Richard said,
CROW: [King] And believe me, I pondered it for 10, almost 12 seconds!
TOM: [Picard] Oh so now you want ME to clean up YOUR mess.
> as Lord Henry called for his
>writing equipment.
CROW: One diesel-powered pencil, coming up!
> "On the surface, this seems to be an open and shut case,"
>Picard said. "You're on the planet, ruling a nation. All the flags
>are thrown up.
TOM: Flag in the spew. How did it get there?
> Of course, rarely do you encounter a true open and
>shut case."
MIKE: Umm... Picard, baby? HE... TOOK... OVER... THE... ENTIRE...
FRICKING... *PLANET!!!*
> "I had no real choice to avoid a Prime Directive violation
>here," King Richard said. "I was chased here by that Cardassian
>warship.
TOM: [King] They were awfully pissed - seems someone had phasered
"We were beaten by a bunch of kids" on their hull.
> I had to abandon the stardrive section, which exploded, then
>I destroyed the warship, and that explosion left me with just two
>thrusters and a decaying orbit.
CROW: Plus a thing his aunt gave him that he didn't know what it was.
> The only control I had on that
>landing was speed."
MIKE: [Keanu] Woah!
> "That does not explain why you ended up as King," Picard said.
TOM: [King] I explained that to you before we got shanghaied! Weren't
you paying attention at all?
CROW: [Picard] Who are you, again?
TOM: *SIGH!*
> "I landed on the Royal Family," King Richard said.
CROW: And boy, were their arms tired! They - oh, wait.
>"Apparently King Ferrel was having a family reunion. When my saucer
>section crushed his castle, I took out every known related royal with
>a known claim."
MIKE: One more reason not to go to a family reunion! Threat of being
crushed to death by a random, out-of-control starcraft!
> "Surely there was someone with some relation to the throne,"
>Jean-Luc said.
CROW: [King] Yeah, but we managed to get them, too.
> "Not within memory," Lord Dorian said. "We think the Dukes of
>Castrome might have a claim through an illegitimate daughter about
>four centuries ago, but that's pushing it.
MIKE: These guys should talk to my grandfather. He's into that
genealogy stuff. He could figure out someone who was related
to the royal family.
> Even then, it took fifteen
>years to find that relation.
CROW: So doing it the right way was, what, too hard? Too time-consuming?
Too boring?
TOM: [King] Making myself absolute monarch was just my little way of
simplifying things for me.
> Lord Henry will no doubt tell you about
>his great grandfather's claim to the throne,
MIKE: But he can't produce a pawn ticket.
> but he had seized the
>throne by force of arms and was executed for treason by King Avery
>II."
CROW: I'll say this for Ellosia, it's never a dull moment.
> "Lieutenant Dorian Gray has become our expert on Ellosian
>history over the last couple decades," King Richard said.
TOM: [King] So have my other officers - Lieutenant Oliver Twist,
Ensign Silas Marner and Commander Jane Eyre.
> "He's also
>my son's tutor. He knows what problems this realm has had since the
>Preservers transported humanity here.
CROW: Huh? Since the who did what to who?
MIKE: Suddenly, the plot heads for weirder pastures, leaving the readers
sadder but dumber.
> Lord Dorian once was my Chief
>of Staff, until he decided to retire to research and teach."
TOM: Yeah, and now he hits the lecture circuit at $3000 a pop.
> "Lord Dorian, what was the state of Ellosia when the Odyssey
>landed?" Jean-Luc asked.
MIKE: [Dorian] Well, I remember there were a lot fewer things on
fire and much less screaming...
> "Ellosia was on the verge of civil war," Lord Dorian said.
>"Avtra and Castrome were preparing to fight each other.
CROW: And immediately, Don King shows up offering Avtra 100 G's
to take a dive in the 4th.
> King Ferrel
>was gathering his family in order to break it up.
MIKE: Good. Because Family Reunions are always such peaceful, orderly
gatherings.
TOM: C'mon, Mike, not every family is like yours.
CROW: Yeah, just because Nelsonfest always ends with a visit by the
SWAT team and/or animal control...
> He'd been
>successful in breaking up the Avtra/Armedge problem two years before,
TOM: He declared they *both* had the silliest names on the planet.
>so there was a great likelihood that he would have succeeded, with a
>full royal press."
CROW: Now, does that beat a Royal Flush?
MIKE: No, but it does beat two of a kind.
> "So, you took it upon yourself to replace the King," Jean-Luc
>said. "How did you acquire the throne?"
TOM: [King] Big Joey's Discount Furniture Warehouse. Corner of 59th
and Armedge.
CROW: Didn't we go through this way back in chapter one? And two?
MIKE: This is for the people who just came in.
> "Originally, I was just going to see if one of the Dukes could
>take the job," King Richard said.
CROW: But they were too busy working on the General Lee, so...
> "A negotiated transition being
>better than the fight I'd doomed them to otherwise. Then I met the
>dukes.
MIKE: [King] There was one called Daisy, and she had the most amazing
pair of cut-offs!
> Duke Murdock of Avtra was, and still is, a first class pain in
>the ass who can't work with anyone."
CROW: [Murdock] I'm right here, sir.
> "He's getting better,"
TOM: [British] No he's not, he'll be stone dead in a moment.
> Lord Toshio said. "His last
>chamberlain lasted 3 weeks."
TOM: So... Just what stopped you from just saying "Sorry your future
king's probably going to be a complete tool. Sorry I took out the
entire royal family. Couldn't be helped. Have a nice day."?
CROW: Obviously, he's a graduate of the Janeway "Do The Right Thing,
Even When It's The Stupid Thing" School of Leadership.
> "That's still not good," King Richard said. "Duke Carlisle
TOM: Kitty Carlisle?
> of
>Castrome was some how hanging onto life. It's simply amazing that he
>hung on for the seven years he did.
MIKE: The part of Duke Carlisle will be played by Strom Thurmond
> Duke Nolan of Armedge was new to
>his job and didn't want more.
TOM: More what?
MIKE: Jobs, I suppose.
> Duke Lionel of Fasstime, I've never
>seen a man so indecisive."
CROW: [King] Well, maybe I have. No - no I haven't. Except maybe I did.
No, forget it. Wait!
> "That's why he's dead now, and I'm taking over," Lord Henry
>said.
TOM: [Henry] Oh, sorry, I forgot - I'm not part of this conversation.
> "Joshua, take this to the signal man."
TOM: [Extremely manly] Signal Man! The only man powerful enough to signal
the Amazing Rando!
CROW: Haha! That Rando stuff still gets me!
> "So, I asked for their endorsement to become King, after
>convincing them that they didn't want the job," King Richard said.
MIKE: He had a little help from his officers - Commander Paulie Walnuts
and Lieutenant Big Pussy.
>"I stripped the Odyssey of her advanced systems, as much as possible,
>and turned her into my primary seat.
TOM: [King] But there's still a half-bathroom functioning on Deck 8.
> I still use the old castles at
>Verifor and Castromepor, but a sea port is a better place to govern an
>island from, even a large one like this."
CROW: Yes, because it's much harder to attack a port than an inland city.
> "How much of the Odyssey is still functioning?" Jean-Luc
>asked.
MIKE: Welp, had 'er up on the blocks now for 20 years. Transmission's
pretty much shot, but we can get 'er to turn over ever now'n'then.
> "The automatic logging function is still running on battery
>back up here and on the old bridge, but we can't do any play back,"
>Lord Sidney said.
CROW: [King] We also had to delete Winamp from the hard drive, so
we can't listen to MP3's any more, either.
> "We took apart all but the padding on the beds in
>Sickbay after about three months.
TOM: [Picard] A-HA!!! A bed pad violation! The Admiralty will have
your hide for this!
> The Impulse engines were slag, and
>the shuttles were scrap."
>
>
MIKE: [Picard] That still doesn't explain why you couldn't send up some sort
of distress signal. You only had most of a starship to work with...
CROW: [King] Well... I... Shut up or I'll tell Lord Henry you said that
robe made him look fat!
> Prince Avery stepped out of the heat into the main room of the
>Golden Rinnebeast. As Marrissa had instructed him,
TOM: Okay, everyone who's *not* surprised that Marrissa winds up
bossing around the crown prince raise your hands!
> he'd chosen to
>dress down,
MIKE: Foregoing the evening gown for a blue blouse/skirt ensemble with
a simple yet tasteful strand of pearls.
> wearing a rough white tunic with the insignia of a squire
>in the Castrome household. He'd been in a few taverns in his life,
>but never for very long.
TOM: He had the alcohol tolerance of a spider monkey.
> The Golden Rinnebeast was perhaps typical
>for a tavern in Ellosia's Capital. White plaster walls, with dark
>wood beams, surrounded the room's dozen rough square tables.
CROW: Still, the tables fought bravely on.
> Sturdy,
>was how Avery would describe the room's furnishings.
MIKE: Also, "cheap", "dull" and "tacky", but we'll just concentrate
on the whole "sturdy" thing for a sec.
> There was a
>fireplace, but it wasn't lit, since it was still the heat of the day.
CROW: Why do authors think they need to describe every little thing?
> In the back corner sat Avery's little sister, though the
>sister part was somewhat questionable at the moment,
TOM: After the disowning, we mean.
> as she was in the
>guise of a male squire, with the faded arms of Armedge on her tunic.
CROW: Well just because she's a transvestite doesn't mean she's not
your sister! Jeez, show some sensitivity!
>It definitely wasn't Brittany's best tunic, or as she was going by,
>Squire Brett's.
MIKE: Wait, is "Squire Brett" Brittany's alias when she's dressed up
like a man? I wasn't sure because the story only told us that
TWELVE THOUSAND TIMES ALREADY!!!
> "Avery! When did you get back?" Brittany said.
> "I just got off the Stargazer a few minutes ago," Avery
>replied, taking a seat across from her. "Her commanding officer and I
>had some disagreements.
TOM: [Avery] Stupid non-royal types thinking they can run things!
CROW: [Avery] By the way, do you know what "Piss off, Lord Fauntleroy"
means?
> So, have you learnt anything, oh exulted
>Chief of Intelligence?"
MIKE: She's being touted in song and verse?
CROW: Boy, I've heard of "The Singing Detective", but this is ridiculous!
> Brittany blushed. "I think I've discovered how Lord Henry is
>getting messages in and out of Odyssey," she said.
MIKE: [Brittany] He's using a very sophisticated device fashioned out
of a couple of cups and a string.
> "I can disrupt it
>now, or we can find the whole route and see if we can put it to our
>use."
CROW: Or you can just pretend none of it ever happened and live the rest
of your lives in denial. Whatever's easiest, y'know.
> "Can we intercept any messages now, without their knowledge,"
>Avery asked.
MIKE: [Brittany] Don't worry, our boys are devising a method of listening
wherein we put a cup up to the door.
> "That we're already doing," Brittany said. "I've got a young
>army officer copying their signals between the upper dinning room and
>a house near the Odyssey.
TOM: [Brittany] So far, we've gotten two dinner orders and a request for
caviar on those little toast points.
> He thinks this is some sort of grand
>adventure.
MIKE: [Brittany] He's dumb, but useful - just the way I like 'em.
> They are using common semaphore flags for signaling,
>holding them up to the windows, but not everything is transmitted in
>the clear. I'm still trying to figure out what 'Proof in Pretender's
>Pudding' means.
TOM: *gasp* Bill Cosby's spiked Jared's Jell-O Pudding Pop!
> Have some meat pie. Marrissa said it was good here,
>and she wasn't lying."
CROW: Threatening and scheming, maybe, but not lying.
> "I'll order my own," Avery said, drawing the attention of the
>waitress.
>
MIKE: It was *how* he did it that was the problem.
TOM: But since he was a prince, the judge let him off with a fine,
>Across the room, Marrissa nervously approached another table.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Excuse, Mr. Estrada, can I have your autograph?
> Seated
>at the were Commander Riker, and Geordi La Forge. "Lieutenant
>Marrissa Picard, reporting as ordered, sir," she said.
CROW: [Marrissa] Ready to make you two look like a couple of blithering
jackasses again.
TOM: [Riker] Proceed, Lieutenant.
> "Marrissa, take a seat," Riker said, pointing at the one
>directly across from him.
TOM: [Riker] And ram it straight up your meat pie hole.
> "Where have you been the last couple of
>days?"
MIKE: [Marrissa] Not hitting on the prince! I mean, nowhere!
> "Sorry, sir, but I got caught up in a little side adventure,"
>Marrissa said.
TOM: Throw me the idol!
CROW: Throw me the Prime Directive!
> "Would this adventure have anything to do with Prince Avery
>shanghaiing our ship?" Geordi asked.
TOM: [Marrissa] I didn't do it! It wasn't my fault! You can't prove
anything!
> "Maybe a little, but I never suggested that," Marrissa said,
>nervously.
MIKE: [Marrissa] I told him to take it over completely! Boy, he never
gets *anything* right!
> "Let's start at the beginning," Riker said.
CROW: *Ahem* Stately, plump Buck Mulligan descended the stairs...
> "I know you and
>Lieutenant Calgary, who still hasn't returned, were going to
>investigate the sewers for potential prime directive violations."
TOM: They found someone using toilet paper with a Federation imprint!
> "Right," Marrissa said, with a little more confidence. "We
>were tracing the route of the sewers so we could see if they were
>using the Odyssey's waste reclamation systems. They're not,
MIKE: Nope, just dumping the stuff right into the reservoir.
> but in
>the sewer we encountered Lord Henry and his men, who attacked.
TOM: And you don't want that!
>Calgary and I got separated.
CROW: [Riker] Did you at least try counseling first?
> I ended up in a swamp about a mile from
>town. Fortunately I was able to get a ride with Lady Hayley and her
>finance, Prince Avery,
[all snicker]
MIKE: I think Stevie's Freudian Slip is showing.
TOM: Maybe not - never attribute to bile that which can be adequately
explained by sloppy spelling.
> back to town on Prince Avery's rinnebeast."
> "So you spent the night on the Odyssey?" Riker said.
CROW: [Marrissa] Yes, and between some guy running in circles on the
ceiling and the damn computer yammering about the stupid pod bay
doors, I didn't sleep a wink!
> "I wish," Marrissa said. "We were attacked when we reached
>the royal stables. I defended myself and we retreated to the Avtra
>Ducal Palace. Lord Henry now controls the Odyssey.
MIKE: Much to Homer's disgust.
> I stayed with
>them over night, as my leaving would be suspicious.
TOM: Though welcome.
> This morning and
>late last night I did a few errands for the Prince's Privy Council,
MIKE: She picked up their dry cleaning, mailed a couple of letters, and
made a deposit at First Avtra Savings & Loan.
>then brought the Prince here to see his sister and report in."
> "Did you give this Prince any advice, at all?" Riker asked.
TOM: Just on women and how to highlight his hair.
> "Only in clothing choices to come here," Marrissa said.
CROW: [Marrissa] Oh! AND I gave him the name of a good investment banker!
And I told him not to put a dark shirt in with a load of whites!
>"His usual tunic stands out too much for a clandestine meeting."
MIKE: [Marrissa] Now he's naked. *No* one will notice him.
> "Then why did Prince Avery take control of the Stargazer for
>three hours to fight off some Fasstime flagged ships?" La Forge asked.
TOM: [Marrissa] Because he owed Martin Mull a favor! I don't know what
that has to do with the ships, I'm just telling you what he told me.
> "Because no other ships were in range that he could use, and
>it's an accepted practice," Marrissa said. "Read the contract the
>Captain signed so he could fly the Ellosia Merchant Flag.
CROW: The presence of the term "Everlasting Soul" should've been a tip-off.
> It's right
>there in paragraph four."
MIKE: [Groucho] The party of the first part shall be known in this contract
as the party of the first part.
TOM: [Chico] Nah, datsa no good!
> "She's right," Riker said. "Star Fleet won't like it, but we
>agreed to it,
CROW: [LaForge] What are we, morons?!
TOM: [Riker] Look at it this way - yes.
> and it's exactly the same as the one on file from our
>last use of the Stargazer here, save the signatures,
MIKE: Contribute now to preserve the Federation's dwindling signature
supply.
CROW: Remember, the autograph you save - just may be your own.
> and the fact that
>we get some cash if we're impressed for more than a week.
TOM: *snort* No danger of that. I haven't been impressed since we
started reading this!
> Marrissa,
>you'll need to file a full and detailed report on you activities while
>you were with Prince Avery.
CROW: [Marrissa, nervous] Uh... does it have to be 'every' detail? Because...
um... I... kind of... well... stripped in front of him and uh...
TOM: [La Forge] Well I'm going to bed.
MIKE: [Riker] No, wait, Geordi, don't leave me here with... damn. Um...
so, completely naked, eh?
> Meanwhile, I'd like you to continue to
>work with the Prince, as we need to figure out how much contamination
>he's had."
CROW: And what antibiotics he'll need.
> "He's the son of two Star Fleet Officers who's heir to the
>throne," Marrissa said. "By definition, he's cultural contamination."
>
MIKE: Geez - kinda harsh, ain't it?
CROW: Well what do you expect after he broke her heart like that?
MIKE: Er - like *what*?
TOM: Well, if you can't read between the lines, Nelson, don't expect us
to spell it out for you! Sheesh!
>
> Prince Avery returned to his temporary headquarters though the
>afternoon rains. He'd borrowed Marrissa's spare cowl,
TOM: Fortunately, she has many, many dominatrix outfits.
MIKE & CROW: Ewwwwww!
> to help him
>keep dry, and was glad he did so, as the rain came a little earlier,
>and quite hard.
CROW: But later, it was all soft and mooshy.
TOM: He'd also borrowed Marrissa's spare underwear, and was glad
he did so, as it made him feel pretty.
> As he entered the main hall, he found the room in an
>uproar. Staff were going in and out. The Duke and Duchess were
>shouting for this and that.
MIKE: He's walked into the middle of a "Lockhorns" comic.
> "What is going on here?" he asked.
> Every eye turned towards him, and the room was suddenly
>silent.
ALL: [ominous music] Dunh-dunh-*duuuuunh*!
> For a minute, the room remained a still tapestry.
MIKE: Then the Duke broke out into his rendition "You Make Me Feel Like
a Natural Woman".
> The
>stillness was broken by Duke Nolan. "Thank the Lord, our God, you're
>alive," he said.
> "Why wouldn't I be?" Avery asked.
TOM: [Nolan] You left with *Marrissa*! Are there any broken bones?!?
> "You went to the Kitchens before you left, and the Cook has
>been poisoned," Duchess Desiree said.
CROW: Well, you buy your meat at Safeway, you take your chances.
> "We thought you might have
>sampled some of the stew and collapsed out on the street."
MIKE: [Avery] Good thing I had my Royal Rolaids with me.
> "I was going out to eat with Brittany, so I didn't need a
>snack," Avery said. "I just had to change to blend in a little.
CROW: That's why he only wore the small crown and the sable-lined
cape instead of the ermine.
>How is the Cook?"
TOM: And the Thief?
CROW: And his Wife?
MIKE: And her lover?
> "She's dead," Duke Nolan said. "And where is my squire?"
TOM: [Nolan] Yeah yeah, peasant dies, boo-hoo. Where's my personal
servant?!
> "My sister has taken it upon herself to set us up a little
>intelligence network," Prince Avery said.
MIKE: PBS?
> "She's doing quite well.
>We've already intercepted some of Lord Henry's messages.
CROW: [Avery] It was something about Nigerian diamonds. Sounds quite
promising, actually.
> Tell me, was
>it the pudding that was poisoned?"
TOM: [Bill Cosby] Now, y'see, the poison - was in the Jell-O - Pudding
Pop. Y'see.
> "Yes it was," Duke Nolan said. "I can't countenance that
>young girl running a spy network."
MIKE: [sigh] Attention span of a gerbil.
TOM: [Nolan] Yes, I understand, we're in deadly peril! Who tracked
mud all over my nice clean castle!?
> "Who better?" Duchess Desiree said. "No one should know be
>able to tell whose running a spy operation,
CROW: And no one should realize have the opportunity to read a sentence
like that.
> and who would expect a
>Princess to be in charge?"
MIKE: Darth Vader?
> "I told the King that little girl was going to cause trouble,"
>Duke Nolan said.
CROW: How dare she help stop the king's overthrow.
TOM: Yeah. Huh! Dumb ol' girls and stuff!
> "Becoming a knight, okay, it's not often done, but
>it's not unprecedented. The great Queen Diane the Dragon-tamer
MIKE: [Avery] If this is the "Diane the Dragon-tamer" story again,
I swear I will rip out your entrails and strangle you with them!
>was one before she married King Ferrel II.
TOM: [Nolan] So NYAH!!!
> But Brittany thinks she can do
>anything a man can, and that will be trouble."
MIKE: So it's all right for women to be knights and kill dragons and such,
but not to look at someone waving stupid little flags in a window?
CROW: That's because they're such manly flags.
> "And a woman can't do anything a man can?" Duchess Desiree
>asked, sweetly.
MIKE: Well, several things, but we shan't name them here.
> "Humph," Duke Nolan replied.
TOM: And with that witty remark, we wrap up the "Point/Counterpoint"
portion of our fanfic.
> "I see Brittany hasn't converted you yet," Avery said.
MIKE: [Avery] She'll be around with a copy of "Watchtower" any minute.
> "I'm
>convinced that she's the right person, at least for a little local
>activities, for the post. I'm going to meet her for dinner at another
>Tavern to get more updates,
TOM: And more booze.
> but we've got other things to do at the
>moment.
CROW: [Avery] I've got a ton of popcorn and the "Moulin Rouge" DVD.
Who's with me?
> Duke Nolan, how long until Lord Gregory gets here with our
>reinforcements?"
MIKE: [Nolan] The secret commando squad? They're already here. Say
hello, boys!
BOTS: [Squad] YO, JOE!
>"They should arrive early tomorrow morning," Duke Nolan said.
TOM: [Nolan] Old grey beard told us to expect them at the dawn of
the fifth day.
>" I haven't had any word from my son Oswald on the border with
>Fasstime though."
CROW: [Nolan] All I get is a bunch of notes signed "Alek Hidell".
> "Duke Murdock has sent word that he's taking control of the
>Army that Lord Palmer was commanding, and is moving on Fasstime,"
>Duchess Desiree said.
MIKE: He wants to get there in time to see Phoebe Cates get out of
the pool.
CROW: Hey, who doesn't?!
> "Sorry Cedric, but he's not going to hold off
>anymore."
> "He did it long enough," Earl Cedric said, as he adjusted his
>lute strings.
TOM: [Avery, whispering] I thought you got rid of that damned lute.
CROW: [Nolan, whispering] I did! I swear he's pulling them out of
hammerspace or something!
> "Your highness, with your permission I'd like to see if
>I can get the weekly music for the people show to start up a little
>early to night.
[All laugh]
TOM: Death! Destruction! Utter Annihilation! But first, a little tune.
CROW: What *is* it with these people?! They lurch from war plans to child-
rearing advice to a Vaudeville revue like it's all equally important!
MIKE: No wonder a lousy ship's captain was able to take over. He probably
just distracted them all with shiny things while he snuck in.
> It's supposed to be in Procession Square, just within
>hearing distance of the front gate."
> "So you have some new tunes to play?" Prince Avery said.
TOM: [Cedric] Yeah, check this one out! *ahem* o/` Now this looks
like a job for me, so everybody - just follow me! o/`
> "Of course, and Lord Henry and his men won't like a single
>one," Earl Cedric said,
CROW: Yeah, but who is he to judge the kids of today and their music?
MIKE: He's the power-mad tyrant who's forcing his way into the kingship.
CROW: Oh. Well, all right, then.
> as a commotion developed outside the hall.
> "Duke Nolan, see what is going on out there," Prince Avery
>said. Duke Nolan left quickly. "Should I make an appearance there?"
MIKE: Yes, that's a great idea. Prince Avery, the Human Target.
> "Yes, but we won't let anyone know you're coming," Duchess
>Desiree said. "Hayley should be with you, and make it short."
TOM: [Desiree] And from what Hayley tells me, making it short
shouldn't be any problem for you.
MIKE: [Avery] Hey!
> After a couple minutes Duke Nolan reentered, his face pale.
CROW: [Nolan] Sh... She... was n... na... naked.
>"Your highness, Lord Henry has sent his response," he said.
> "He refused to surrender, I assume," Prince Avery said.
TOM: [Nolan] Well, he says he won't unless we can get him a date with
Elisha Cuthbert.
> "Yes, but he also set proof of his seriousness," Duke Nolan
>said.
CROW: [Nolan] Pudding. Want some?
> "Lord Dorian is dead, and Lord Henry sent his head along with
>the message."
>
MIKE: Oh, he just did that so he could get the bulk rate.
TOM: [announcer] Lord Henry Express! When you absolutely, positively have
to be decapitated overnight!
CROW: So is this how the rest of the chapters are going to go? Avery and
Friends are going to plan an operation, they'll carry it out and
achieve a small victory, and Henry responds by killing somebody?
TOM: And we'll be told how great Marrissa is but not shown any proof.
>
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-01!sn-xit-04!
>supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!logbridge.uoregon.edu!snoopy.risq.qc.ca!
>newsfeed.news2me.com!newsfeed2.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
CROW: Not for really much of anything else, either.
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 11/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
TOM: They have a computer-generated Romulan as a secretary.
>Message-ID: <qhoqnuchvkvn8dhjam0n86mlii6b180vcl@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
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>X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1031623984 65.177.81.17
>(Mon, 09 Sep 2002 19:13:04 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 09 Sep 2002 19:13:04 PDT
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:160791
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 11/16 Serialized Biweekly
MIKE: Or Weeklized Biserially.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small
>nation
>
TOM: We join "Heart of Blandness" already in progress.
>Chapter Ten: The Earl of Avtra's Own
>
MIKE: Actually, Earl of Avtra's Own is a pretty good spaghetti sauce.
>
>Clara crouched in the shadows of the alley, along with Earl
>Cedric and his team.
CROW: Wow. I didn't think Clara was that kind of a girl.
TOM: It's always the quiet ones.
> They were waiting for the last point of
>distraction before they began to sneak into the Odyssey. The fog
>had rolled in, which would make the distraction even better.
CROW: Hmm... I see they recruited the local X-Men chapter...
>Clara couldn't see more than twenty feet in front of her.
>
MIKE: This would also make the distraction even better.
>The whine of bagpipes began.
CROW: [Scottish] Ach, but ah don' wanna go-o-o-o-o-o!
> It was the Earl of Avtra's Own, the
>acknowledged best in the whole country.
TOM: They could annoy more people per square mile than anyone else
torturing an octopus.
> Clara had watched them
>practice for tonight's performance. They were led by a man who
>directed them with a large staff,
CROW: It took 30 guys just to move the baton.
MIKE: Tough union.
> dressed in a dark green tartan
>kilt, with a tan tunic tucked under it. He wore a sash with a
>silver metal on it, which he had earned in battle.
CROW: For your bravery in battle, we award you this lump of antimony.
> There were a
>dozen bagpipes that followed him, expert in their art. Then
>there were the drummers, who beat the cadence.
MIKE: Then came the juggling clowns, 55 of them crammed into one
tiny rinnebeast.
> Those were what
>had attracted Clara's attention. Especially the drummers who
>appeared to twirl their sticks, yet never missed a beat as they
>did so.
TOM: [announcer] Clara feels all confused inside as her hormones
finally kick in.
> Earl Cedric had told her that it took years for drummers
>to perfect that trick.
>
CROW: What this has to do with anything? It doesn't! Enjoy the
rest of the show!
>She could just imagine the guards at the entrance looking out,
>hearing the march of the band, peering through the fog.
TOM: When suddenly, John Elway came bursting through the band
to score the winning touchdown!
> The beat
>of the drums providing the impression of a large army's progress
>through the city.
MIKE: Or of a bunch of band weenies on drums. Whichever.
TOM: The Neil Piert Commandos make their move.
> Then they'd see the conductor, his staff
>raised, stopping just as he could see the entrance.
CROW: [Conductor] Okay, c'mon, who has the tickets? We can't
get in without tickets, people!
> He'd be an
>almost insubstantial ghost,
MIKE: It's the Drum Major of the Undead.
> as the Earl of Avtra's Own split
>behind him, spreading out along the line his staff defined,
>constantly moving behind him.
TOM: Mocking him, making funny faces...
> The music would continue along
>with the pacing as the conductor stood still, at the edge of
>sight, a vaporous vision out of the range of their swords.
>
MIKE: Viciously taunting them with his caterwauling bagpipes.
CROW: Fiend!
>With a tap on her shoulder, Cedric began the mission.
[All hum the "Mission Impossible" theme]
> Two men
>moved with a ladder towards the outside skin of the Odyssey.
CROW: Wow, that's some radical acne treatment.
> As
>soon as it was secured, the rest of the team headed up it, Clara
>being the third of the nine.
MIKE: Thus making her less than half the woman Jeri Ryan is.
> Behind them the ladder was removed,
>and no evidence was left of their passing.
>
CROW: [Guard] Hey, look! Lots and lots of footprints! And some
suspicious looking ladder-like marks!
TOM: [Guard] Aaah, just the darn chipmunks again. Fuhgeddaboudit!
>Across the saucer they moved, the white hull and thick mist
>making navigation difficult,
MIKE: Can't - move! Hull - too - white!
> but with slow progress the moved
>across it, towards the garden. The hull had been opened to the
>air there, and that was where they'd get in.
>
CROW: That makes it sound like they're scaling a fog-covered
sunflower seed!
>***
>
>Under the cover of the fog, Captain Lord Treavor arrived in
>Odyssey harbor.
TOM: Hey, he came in on little cat's feet, heh heh.
> He'd been stopped before entering earlier by a
>pinnacle bearing a message from the Prince.
CROW: Well sure, it - the hey?!?
MIKE: Okay, time to play "*Now* What's Steve Talking About?"!
CROW: Maybe a giant pyramid came down and handed the guy a note.
TOM: Nah, it's obvious - a huge volcanic peak rose out of the
harbor and formed into a gigantic natural e-mail message.
> Tonight he'd begin
>to prepare his part in the attack.
CROW: It consisted mostly of hiding and whimpering.
> His boat slid noiselessly
>into the water, though stealth was not really necessary in this
>stage.
TOM: It was Friday night, and the pier guards were higher than lab rats!
> His passengers were placed in the boat before he joined
>them, turning his ship over to his first officer.
MIKE: [Basso] Remember, be home by 11:00. And bring it back with
a full tank this time!
> They pushed
>off and soon were on their way to the city docks.
>
MIKE: [Random Soldier] Hookers and booze! Hookers and booze!
I'm gonna get me some hookers and booze!
TOM: So what *is* the plan?
CROW: I think it's actually several plans in one.
>The fog hugged the waters of the bay tightly,
MIKE: [soprano] Oooh, Foggy, hold me closer. Closer! Closer!!!
CROW: [Groucho] If I held you any closer, I'd be in back of ya!
> so only the compass
>allowed him to navigate towards shore. Soon, the docks peaked
>through the clouds,
TOM: And - no, wait, I guess that worked either way.
> and he pulled along side. Troops stood at
>the ready along the dock, and a cry for the Duke of Armedge's
>Squire rang out,
CROW: [whispering] Shhh, silence is our ally. [shouting] *PHWEEEET!*
HEY, SQUIRE BOY! GETCHER HINDER OVER HERE, TOOT SWEET! THE
DUKE WANTS TO SEE YOU!
> as they assisted him and his passengers out of
>the boat.
>
>"Treavor!" was the cry.
MIKE: Was it?
TOM: It was. No one knows why, but it was.
> The voice was familiar as well.
ALL: RICK DEES?!?
>He turned towards it. Out of the fog approached Squire Brett,
TOM: A.K.A. Secret Agent Woman.
>otherwise known as Princess Brittany, though you couldn't tell
>that at the moment,
CROW: Unless you actually looked at her.
> as her breasts were bound,
MIKE: Her breasts being held prisoner? That's just kinky!
TOM: But with the way Ratliff's been writing lately...
> and she was
>dressed in the typical squire's attire of Lord Treavor's father's
>household.
>
CROW: Namely, a Nehru jacket and corduroy culottes.
>"Squire," Treavor returned, with affection. "I assume you are
>currently in charge of the docks."
>
TOM: [Brett] Yep, I'm the new chief of surgery.
>"Until your arrival, sir," Squire Brett replied. "I'm to brief
>you on the latest plan of the Prince's,
CROW: [Brett] Remember, he might show up any time, so no giggling.
> and then turn the
>operation over to you.
MIKE: Remove funny bone. Ha ha ha.
> I've arranged for a private room off the
>dock master's office. We'll be the only ones in the building."
>
TOM: Nope! Can't read anything salacious into that! Not at all!
>"I need someone to take care of the Ladies of Castrome that I've
>brought with me," Treavor said. "I felt it unwise to leave them
>aboard ship in the current plan."
>
CROW: He wants Squire "Brett" to take care of some ladies he brought
with him? Privately?
TOM: This could be the first Kids' Crew adventure ever filmed - for
Cinemax After Dark!
>"Captain Black!" Squire Brett ordered. "Take these ladies and
>their stuff to our headquarters in the Golden Rinnebeast.
TOM: [Captain] "Stuff"? What kind of stuff?
MIKE: [Brett] Well - um - you know, woman-type *stuff*!
>Princess Beatrice should be there to pick them up in an hour."
>
MIKE: [Brittany] And if the owner offers you a taste of her
meat pie, decline. Quickly.
>"Aye, Squire," an older solider said.
>
>Treavor moved closer and whispered in Brett's ear, "Planning to
>leave the post?"
>
CROW: To which newsgroup?
TOM: alt.feudal.planets.dull.dull.zzzzzzz
>"Only after you help me change," she whispered back.
>
TOM: Eww! I thought we were only kidding about that!
MIKE: For Steven, this is really letting the kink flag fly!
>"Squire, your father would be shocked," Treavor said in a normal
>tone, as they began walking towards the dock master's office.
>
>"My father isn't here," Brett replied.
MIKE: [Brett] He's, like, not the boss of me!
> "And we've got business
>to handle first, and I want him to be proud of what I've been
>doing."
>
TOM: [King] My daughter-son is the best transgendered princess *ever*!
>"That depends on what you've been doing," Treavor said, as he
>opened the door to the dock master's office.
>
CROW: It would, wouldn't it?
>***
>
>Prince Avery, Lady Hayley, and Duke Nolan were looking over the
>map.
CROW: So we take I-65 up to US 31...
MIKE: But what about this shortcut at State Road 36?
TOM: Never mind that, is there a Cracker Barrel around? I'm starved!
> It was a large tapestry that had been taken down and placed
>over the table so that Armedge and Castrome were visible.
>They'd placed several icons of forces to track where things were.
>
TOM: [Avery] Okay... So we've got :) on the northern entrance,
^_^ coming in from the south, and :P and @_@ backing them up.
CROW: [Nolan] Well what about :-) and ^o^?
TOM: We're holding them in reserve!
>Hayley wasn't really doing much, save moving icons as messengers
>went in and out.
MIKE: Finally, a job that doesn't overtax her mental processes.
> The Prince was concentrate on where everything
>was, while the Duke talked.
>
TOM: And talked, and talked, and talked, and...
>"You see, Avery, if the Fasstime forces head down the road from
>Hammer Pass,
CROW: [Duke] Why they'll be 2 Legit 2 Quit!
> they'll run right into my son Oswald's force,"
MIKE: [Nolan] *sigh* My boy's dog food!
>the Duke said. "He'll probably not be able to hold off them for
>long, but we need the delay.
TOM: [Duke] I'll gladly sacrifice the lives of my son and all his
troops to buy us a couple of minutes.
> Duke Murdock has begun his advance
>into Fasstime, and he's moving fast.
CROW: But he's leaving Time pretty much where it is.
> Those dragons of his will
>be rather helpful, I'd think."
>
TOM: [Duke] And his Orcs and his Leprechauns and his pretty, pretty
fairies!
>"Your grace, who is covering the coastal road?" the Prince asked.
>"It looks like they can march all the way to Arm right now."
>
TOM: Yeah, but they have to watch out for the soft shoulder! BWHAHAHAH!
MIKE & CROW: Ugh!
>The Duke looked at the map a while. "So they can, but I wouldn't
>worry," he said.
MIKE: Well, of course, *he* wouldn't worry. He's too busy fretting
over minor procedural improprieties to worry.
> "If they come that way they'll have to go
>through Arm to cross the bridges, and I've left the City well
>defended."
>
CROW: By two 67-year old rent-a-cops named Hank and Carl.
>"Very well," Avery said. "Can you see any other area we've left
>uncovered?"
>
MIKE: Come on, Avery, pull your pants up and quit joking around!
>"Not to my knowledge," the Duke said.
>
TOM: Is this a good time to say "INTENSE PLANNING ACTION!!!"?
MIKE: Considering you just did, I guess so.
>"Then we better get some rest," Avery said. "The attack is set
>to begin at dawn. Have the staff wake me an hour before.
>Hayley, let's go get some sleep."
>
TOM: o/` Let me rest in peace, let me get some sleep... o/`
>***
>
MIKE: Orion must be losing weight - he's tightening his belt.
>Inside the Odyssey, Lord Henry slept in a room near to the throne
>room. He'd found the bed most comfortable,
MIKE: Much more so than, say, the china cabinet or the walk-in freezer.
CROW: Plus, the porridge wasn't too hot *or* too cold.
> and was sure that the
>one in the King's chamber would be even more so, but didn't want
>to stray far from the throne room, since he didn't know the
>Odyssey well.
TOM: He and Odyssey are "just friends".
> He slept well, secure in his position of the next
>King of Ellosia, at least in his mind.
MIKE: Of course, in his mind, he was also hot-tubbing with his
wives, Halle Berry and Rose McGowan.
> He had no clue,
CROW: Or Monopoly, or Rook, or even a lousy Scrabble board!
>nor watch, on the garden.
>
TOM: How much you wanna bet that soon Henry will be cursing
every garden in existence?
MIKE: Boy, remember when this was a Next Generation fanfic?
CROW: Barely.
>***
>
CROW: I'm not sure I'd give this story three stars.
>In the garden, Earl Cedric and his men were descending down its
>walls.
TOM: o/` Spider-Earl, Spider-Earl! o/`
> Softly, they landed on the richly fertilized soil
[Tom makes disgusting squishy noises]
> covered
>with short grass.
MIKE: Sounds like they're on the turf at Lambeau!
> As quietly as possible they made their way
>towards one of the exits, finding it unguarded. In the carpeted
>hallway, Clara directed them,
CROW: Well, good for her. She's always wanted the chance to direct.
> her study of the Odyssey's plans,
>not only in the keep of the Avtra Dukes, but up on the Enterprise
>giving her the edge to the mission.
>
TOM: Bono was staying on board and co-ordinating.
>Into a jefferies tube entrance they went,
CROW: Where they bumped into a grumpy Scotty.
> and up a couple decks.
>It was slow going, but they had until morning to get into place.
>
MIKE: Isn't Clara breaking the prime directive by showing these
guys a Jeffries Tube?
TOM: She cleverly concealed it by calling it a Geoffories Tube.
>***
>
>Inside the throne room, Captains and Counselors slept,
CROW: Captains and Counselors? Isn't that another ASC series?
TOM: Yep. And look - there's Ghidorah sleeping off a bender.
> unknowing
>that rescue was on the way. The water lights had been turned
>down,
MIKE: Along with the dirt noises.
> automatically, by cutting the bacteria's feed of sugar,
TOM: Eliminate bacteria that cause tooth decay in your bacteria!
> so
>the room was only lit by dim glows. Around the Captains and
>Counselors were soldiers, trying to keep their eyes open.
>
TOM: So they shouldn't SLEEEEEEEEP!!!
MIKE: Woah!
>***
>
>Up in the tower of Avtra Keep, Prince Avery slept fitfully,
CROW: No, I - doesn't - you can't - uh uh uh - BAND PRACTICE!!!
>Hayley in his arms.
MIKE: [Hayley] This would be much more enjoyable if he didn't keep
calling me "his little Binky"...
> The wake up call would come all too soon.
>
TOM: He's on Central Time, and the Concierge is on Eastern.
>***
>
>At dockside, his sister slept in Lord Treavor's arms. The
>afterglow was more than enough to send both to sleep,
CROW: Um, fellas, isn't this the *thirteen* year old sister?
TOM: Uh - yeah. It is.
[pause]
ALL: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!
CROW: I've now officially lost track of how many showers I'm gonna
need once this is over!
MIKE: It's a bad sign when even Marrissaverse stories start needing
a "Parental Guidance Suggested" label!
> while the
>troops boarded Lord Treavor's ship in preparation for the
>morning.
>
TOM: They were making plans to stop at Hardees for sausage biscuits.
>***
>
>And at the Odyssey's main entrance, the guard stood increasingly
>more ill at ease.
CROW: Huh. They musta just read the whole "afterglow" scene, too.
> The Earl of Avtra's Own was still giving their
>personal concert, late into the night. The bagpipes blared, and
>the drums thumped,
MIKE: And the banjos zinged, and the tubas oompahed, and the kazoos
screeched...
> as the fog obscured, partially, the music
>makers. Several times, they left only to return later.
>
TOM: And each time, it cost more to make them go away.
>As dawn approached, the Earl of Avtra's Own approached one last
>time. Their bagpipes blaring out the marching theme favored by
>the Duke of Armedge.
CROW: Oddly, it was the theme to "Gomer Pyle USMC".
> One last time they crossed in the mist.
MIKE: "Bagpipers in the Mist". Starring Sigourney Weaver as an
anthropologist who lives among a wild tribe of bagpipers.
>Then, unlike the pervious times,
CROW: He became impervious.
> near the end of the tune the
>conductor's staff was raised above his head,
TOM: You *will* believe a bunch of bureaucratic weenies can fly!
> then tilted at a
>slight angle. With a swift twist, he straighten it on the beat.
>The tune died.
>
CROW: As did a little piece of my soul.
Tom: I bet that if this was televised, it would just have the music
play and no dialogue.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-01!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!newsswitch.lcs.mit.edu!
>snoopy.risq.qc.ca!
MIKE: Here's the World War I Flying Ace, in his Sopwith Camel, shooting
down the Prime Directive.
[Tom does machine gun chatter]
MIKE: Oh no! CURSE YOU, RED RATLIFF!!!
> newsfeed.news2me.com!newsfeed2.earthlink.net!
>newsfeed.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!
>newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 12/17 (Marrissa Stories) [PG]
TOM: Waitasec! Twelve of *Seventeen*?!?
MIKE: Oh, that wacky Steve - he's snuck another part in on us!
CROW: Because darn it, boring horny royal twits just *need* more
space to have their story told!
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <mrdjpu8urluj9i6jani2vqemg1rippbt23@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
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>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.191.161.162
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1033480670 63.191.161.162
>(Tue, 01 Oct 2002 06:57:50 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 01 Oct 2002 06:57:50 PDT
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161150
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 12/16 Serialized Weekly
CROW: Um, not that I'm quibbling or anything, but didn't he just get
through saying it was 12 of *17*?
MIKE: His word processor hasn't caught up with his brain yet.
TOM: A scarier thought I've never heard.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>
>Chapter Eleven: Waking up dead.
>
CROW: Oh, man, what did I drink last night?!? Did I kiss a moose?!?
> Lord Henry had left two dozen men manning the main entry room into
>the Odyssey, but only two were looking out at the fog.
MIKE: The rest were watching the wacky new hit comedy, "Eight Simple Rules
for Dating My Teenage Daughter".
> In the mist stood
>a single man, staff raised straight and high,
TOM: Good morning!
> as the last sounds of the
>bagpipes and drums echoed off the nearby buildings.
MIKE: Or it may have just been someone strangling an accordion.
> Soon the staff dropped
>down, hitting the ground. With that another sound echoed though the square,
CROW: [Henry Fonda] It was the sound of the Ambassador's phone meltin'!
>that of swords being drawn.
> With a cry of "For King Richard!" the mist suddenly disgorged a host
>of swordsmen.
[Tom makes upchucking noises]
> Lord Henry's tired two dozen never stood a chance, as sword
>after sword, slew the usurper's guard, the blood and gore hidden by the fog.
MIKE: And by network Standards and Practices.
>Only the sound gave evidence of the battle.
ALL: Oof! Ow! Watch it, ya dink! *shumf* Hey!
> Through it all, the single man
>stood, his hands folded over the tip of his staff.
CROW: To hide his hairy palms, obviously.
> Finally, the entrance secure, and more troops entering the Odyssey,
>he raised his staff, parallel to the ground.
TOM: It's Generalissimo Arturo Toscanini.
> His band formed up behind him,
>and he flipped it straight up and down, and made 3 pumps in the air with it.
MIKE: Causing planes for miles around to attempt to land nearby.
>Once again the sound of pipes echoed through town, as the Earl of Avtra's
>Own began marching back towards the Headquarters, playing a melody of a
>victory in progress.
>
TOM: Then they went into a rousing rendition of "Sk8ter Boi".
> Clara had several objectives when she climbed through the Jefferies
>tube above the throne room.
CROW: One was to discover the magical orb of Nod.
TOM: Then she had to assemble the Millennium Puzzle
MIKE: Followed by removing a sword from the pit of the dragon.
> The team of locals she was assigned to expected
>her to report on the positions of the people in the throne room.
MIKE: Because, after all, this *is* a Marrissa story.
TOM: Yeah, and knowing everyone's precise location is much more important
than minor things like, say, plot and characterization.
> She also
>had to find out the status of her Captain, and make a brief report to the
>Enterprise.
TOM: Finally! I was beginning to think this was Final Fantasy, not Trek.
> She popped open the access to the air recycling system, allowing her
>to look down on the people below.
CROW: Isn't that usually Marrissa's job?
> The Captain was easy to spot. He was the
>only one who was bald.
MIKE: At least until the blue chick from "Farscape" shows up.
> The enemies appeared to all be along the edge of the
>room, which would help. She carefully put down the access panel and pulled
>a small object out of her tunic.
TOM: It's a can of spray-on hair - just for Picard.
MIKE: What a suck up!
> They'd hidden the usual communicator
>inside a carved wood ornament on a rope.
CROW: [Clara] Just let me consult with my Tiki idol.
> "Lieutenant Sutter to Enterprise."
> "This is Enterprise, go ahead," Commander Data's voice said.
TOM: Finally, someone with talent.
MIKE: Yeah, but don't forget this is a Ratliff fic.
TOM: Yeah, but at least Data has a reason to act wooden.
> "I've found the Captain, directly below me." Clara said.
CROW: Clara's plan for rising through the ranks becomes crystal clear.
TOM: I dunno, maybe this *is* the Mirror Universe.
> "The locals
>are about to attempt to rescue him and their king. Have Sickbay standing by
>for the Captain if things go wrong. I'll try to get him to some place out
>of view. Any additional instructions?"
MIKE: [Data] See if you can pick me up an "I Love Ellosia" snowglobe while
you're down there.
> "No instructions have been logged for you, Lieutenant," Data said.
>"Do you need assistance? I detect a large force preparing to enter the
>Odyssey."
TOM: [Data] Some kind of - monolith?
> "No, I don't think so," Clara said. "That should be the local army
>preparing to retake the Odyssey.
CROW: Or it might just be the Jennifer Garner Appreciation Society.
> I'll be back in contact later today.
>Clara out."
TOM: [Data] Wait a minute, what did you mean by... rats, I hate it
when she does that.
> Now Clara turned to deliver the information to Earl Cedric and his
>team. It was time to get moving.
>
MIKE: The van was here, and everything was packed.
> It had taken an hour for Squire Brett to bring the boat around the
>rocky and metal-strewn shore.
CROW: [Robin] Holey Rusted Metal, Batm-
TOM: Crow, no!
MIKE: Don't make us do an intervention again.
> It was a path the squire was very familiar
>with, but the thick fog made a difference. Still, they were close to
>schedule, as the Squire brought the boat up against the dock across the rear
>of the Odyssey.
TOM: I don't care what you say, that was *definitely* a euphemism!
> With a hand signal, she sent her dozen passengers, hand
>picked from the Godspeed's crew, up the ladder.
CROW: They immediately headed for the local trinket shops and Burger Kings.
> "Report in!" the voice called above, moments later.
MIKE: We're reading a Marrissaverse medieval future Star Trek fanfic.
TOM: Ahem.
MIKE: Oh, sorry. We're reading a Marrissaverse medieval future Star
Trek fanfic, SIR!
> It was answered
>only by four splashes.
MIKE: Okay, this time report in *after* you hit dry land, ya dopes!
> Then there were sounds, like someone was dropping
>off a crate, thump, thump, thump, as they worked their way down to the
>dock's planking.
CROW: The post office drops off another load of delicate crystal figurines.
> A minute later, a head poked back over the side of the dock to look
>down at Squire Brett. "Squire, the dock is secure."
TOM: They've set up a firewall and installed Norton Antivirus.
> "Good, put out the signal lights for the Godspeed," Squire Brett
>said, climbing up the ladder. "Did we get any alive?"
CROW: [Guard] Nope, we're all dead. Sorry.
> "Just the head guard, as ordered, sir," the sailor said. "We killed
>nine of them. You might be interested in one of them."
MIKE: [Sailor] He's an *unmarried* corpse.
> "Oh?" Squire Brett asked, standing on the dock now, hand on the
>pommel of the sword she wore.
> "He was wearing the Earl of Airipor's arms," the sailor said.
CROW: [sailor] He's doing his Shiva impression. Pretty good one, too.
> "Her Grace will be interested in that little tidbit," the Squire
>said, looking around, not that she could see much. The fog was lightening,
>but still oppressive.
TOM: [British] Help! Help! I'm being oppressed!
> It would probably be a good hour before the Godspeed
>could dock, safely.
>
MIKE: Or possibly a mediocre hour and a half.
CROW: It depends on daylight savings.
> The King woke from his uncomfortable sleep on the floor of the
>throne room
TOM: It was the third time this week.
> to the sound of arrows flying through the air.
CROW: [arrow] Wheee!!!
> He could see the
>tips of a second round poking through the curtain behind the throne. Across
>the room, the two archers on the upper level that Lord Henry had left guard
>were falling to the floor below.
CROW: Bungee-Guarding is really hot with the younger guards these days, I
hear.
TOM: Yeah, it has a certain thrill in-line skateguarding lacks.
> The King's eyes searched the room.
MIKE: His nostrils kept a lookout for the fuzz.
>The first round had taken out six of the eight guards.
> The second round took out one more, five arrows in his chest.
TOM: [archer] Did we *all* aim at the one on the left?!?
MIKE: [archer] He's a bigger target, okay?!
>The last guard was up against the curtain, out of range.
CROW: Plus, he completely clashed with the decor.
> From behind the
>curtain, two swordsmen vaulted over the rail and down to the floor below.
TOM: Sic Semper Tyraaaaniiiiiiiiiiiiis!
>Over to the left side of the room, the curtain parted,
MIKE: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to our stage, the one, the only -
BARRY MANILOW!!!
> revealing Earl Cedric
>leading a young girl, who carried a rope ladder.
TOM: She likes to kiss him, but she's *really* short!
> Now everyone was awake in the room. The remaining guard was engaged
>in swordplay, trying to get to the door where he could escape and warn Lord
>Henry.
CROW: Or just run screaming into the night in terror. Whichever.
> He would not make it, as he found a knife in his back.
MIKE: [Guard] What th- I *wondered* that had gotten off to!
> "Harlan, you had that knife all the time?" the King said, looking at
>his Chief of Intelligence, who still was posed at the end of his follow
>through.
MIKE: [Harlan] Yes, sir.
CROW: [King] Well why didn't you tell me that before?
MIKE: [Harlan] You never asked.
> "Well, a couple knives aren't very much use against the forces we
>were up against," Lord Harlan said, standing straight and looking up at the
>second level. "And they didn't check my boots very well."
TOM: He strategically hasn't washed his socks for 5 months.
> "Your Majesty, we need to get out of here," Earl Cedric said, as he
>tested Clara's knots.
MIKE: And then awarded her a merit badge.
> "Very well, Cedric," the King said. "It wouldn't do to get
>recaptured."
> They began climb up the ladder to the next level, first the king,
>followed by his advisors and the Captain.
CROW: [King] Outta the way! Women, children, and ex-Starfleet monarchs
first, not necessarily in that order!
> As Captain Picard reached the top
>of the ladder, he paused to say to Clara, "It's nice to see you again,
>Ensign."
TOM: [Clara] Thank you, Mr. Shiny Head... I mean Captain.
> Clara smiled nervously, as he climbed over the railing. "Just
>following your daughter's orders," she said.
>
MIKE: As are they all.
> King Richard exited the Odyssey in tears.
TOM: Homer left all his scenes on the cutting room floor.
> He'd gone by the Queen's
>quarters and discovered her cold dead body.
CROW: Someone took her seriously when she said "only when you pry it
from my cold dead fingers.
> It was only the hurrying of
>Earl Cedric and Captain Picard that had gotten him out of the Odyssey.
>Behind him were two men, bearing a stretcher, carrying the Queen's body,
>covered with a spread from her bed.
TOM: Don't forget to stake her first so she doesn't turn.
> The dock was covered with Royal Marines, and the Godspeed was stopped
>at the end of the pier, ready to sail at a moment's notice. At the gangplank
>of the Godspeed stood Captain Lord Trevor and Squire Brett.
MIKE: Ah, it's "The Icky Couple".
> At first the
>Squire's face lit up, as she saw the King on the dock. Then she spotted the
>draped stretcher.
TOM: A corpse for me? Awww, dad, you shouldn't have!
> The face of the princess posing as squire boy lost all of
>it's color, as she stumbled forward, towards the King.
CROW: [Brett] *Ooof* Man, I'm tripping over everything today.
> "Mom?" she asked plaintively, of her father as she reached him.
MIKE: [King] No, honey, I'm dad. Don't let the ballgown and heels fool you.
>His tear stained face gave her the answer before his slow nod confirmed it.
TOM: His face is a big snitch!
> She
>threw herself into her father's arms, tears flowing. Together they sought
>comfort in the embrace, as the late Queen's body made it's way up the
>gangplank.
>
CROW: Her Serene Highness, Queen Zuvembi.
> The skies had cleared, and it was almost noon, when the Godspeed
>pulled away from the dock.
MIKE: They're making a leisurely stroll for safety.
TOM: Yeah, once you've rescued the king and killed all the big bad's guards,
you can pretty much just take your time in escaping.
> The King stood at the front of the quarterdeck,
>lost in thought.
TOM: [King] Geez, why do the Braves always make the Playoffs and then choke?
> Above him the royal standard flew on a ship for the first
>time in over a year.
CROW: They'd finally been ISO 9001 certified.
> A flag that he'd have flying at half staff for his
>beloved Queen Claire starting in the morning. He had know that his wife was
>dying, but to come across her cold body, left alone in her room after his
>escape from Lord Henry's clutches...
MIKE: [King] Run run run run run - oops! Forgot the old ball and chain!
Get wife and run run run run...
> He wasn't prepared for that. No one
>was prepared for that.
CROW: Well - we were, weren't we?
ALL: Yeah, I think so, sorta, I guess, yeah.
> The King's attention returned to the deck below him as his daughter,
>in her squire guise took the steps up to the Quarterdeck. There was
>something different about the way she walked.
TOM: Well she *is* trying to be a man.
MIKE: And men don't just sway along the road.
> "Brittany, over here, now," he said, in clipped tones. His daughter
>turned towards him, instead of continuing to the ship's Captain."
> "Yes, your majesty," she said, curious.
> "Who was it?" the King said stiffly.
CROW: Professor Plum in the library with a lead pipe.
> "Who was what, sire?" the Squire said, trying to keep in her role.
> "I take it wasn't forced, or you would have told me first thing," the
>King said. "Or told your brother, and the bastard would have been dead in
>an hour.
MIKE: That's not a nice thing to say about your own son!
CROW: It does explain why the Prince looks so much like the Royal Milkman.
> He still might."
> "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a little more descriptive,
>father,"
TOM: In a Ratliff Story? Not a problem.
> the Princess said, dropping all pretense of being a squire.
> "I want to know who made you a woman, Brittany," the King said.
MIKE: [King] And can they make one for me, too?
CROW: Wait wait wait - he can tell just by watching her *walk* that she's
not a - that she's been - that she's had -
TOM: Apparently his Royal Spidey-Senses were on full alert.
> Brittany blushed. "Trevor," she said, then softer "It was my idea."
CROW: [Princess] He may be a horndog, but I'm a great big old ho.
> "Lord Trevor!" the King bellowed.
TOM: Meanwhile, Trevor has abandoned ship and started swimming for Alaska
as fast as his grubby little arms can go.
> It didn't take long for the Captain to rush to the King's side.
MIKE: It took even less time for the King to kick him in the nads.
>The King, meanwhile had turned to stare at the second son of the Duke of
>Armedge.
CROW: Who was he? Why was he here? No one knows.
TOM: Just sit back and watch as the vague background characters flow in and
out, folks.
> The glare was one that had turned his children to quivering masses
>before him, the rare times he had brought it to bear on them.
CROW: So he can melt and remake them at will? Cool!
> "How can I help you, sire?" Captain Lord Trevor said, saluting his
>king.
TOM: [King] Sword! Neck! Now!
> "How long have you been fornicating with my daughter my daughter?"
>the King asked in a deadly growl.
CROW: A deadly stuttering growl, apparently.
MIKE: Crow, he's confronting the sailor who's been boinking his teenage
daughter - we're lucky he's even coherent at this point.
> "And what are your intentions towards her?"
>
TOM: [Trevor] Hot monkey love, your majesty!
> Prince Avery stood at the dock, Duke Nolan and Lady Hayley at his
>side. He watched the complex dance of the dockworkers as they tied down the
>Godspeed.
CROW: I *love* the Complex Dance of the Dockworkers! It's just so graceful
and - and -
MIKE: Complex?
CROW: Exactly!
> Up on her mast flew the royal standard, white Yorkist Rose, on a
>golden skewed chevron,
TOM: Right next to a sideways platinum Texaco.
> with a purple background. It had been years since it
>had flown on a ship.
MIKE: It was just that tacky-looking.
> The gang plank made a thudding sound as it hit the
>dock. His father stood at the top of the plank, saying something to a bald
>man in the same outfit as Marrissa was wearing.
CROW: [Avery] Boy, she has minions *everywhere*!
> Avery glanced over to the left. The young sailor girl was perched on
>the edge of a box, staring intently at the docked ship, as if she was
>looking for something as well.
TOM: She's using her X-Ray Vision to scan for strawberry juice.
> He turned back to the ship. His father had
>been joined by his sister, now dressed back in her Princess attire. Avery
>was sure that his sister hadn't gone on the mission with that on.
MIKE: She kept it hidden in her quarters - same as he does.
> Father
>and daughter, they descended from the ship. Avery reached out for Hayley's
>hand, then walked to meet them.
CROW: Instead she gave him her foot.
TOM: Straight up his... well you know.
> As his father stepped on to the dock, Avery stopped, less than five
>paces from his father, and bowed deeply, Hayley and Duke Nolan, taking his
>lead.
TOM: Subclauses ahoy!
CROW: Ratliff paid for all these extra commas, and by golly, he's gonna use
every last one! Even if it kills us!
> "Rise, my son," the King said.
MIKE: And kill the envious moon.
> "Lord Trevor and your sister tell me
>you have done well while Lord Henry had us beyond reach."
CROW: [Avery] Yep. Made a killing on the big board by short-selling
LordHenryCo!
> Avery stood straight, again. "It is my hope that I find favor, when
>you review the actions I and the council took in your absence," he said
>formally. "May I present my chief advisors during your staff's
>confinement?"
TOM: [King] No! I need plausible deniability!
> "Please, do," the King said. "Then we shall repair to a place of
>security, as another needful absence shall be coming."
>
MIKE: [King] I'm takin' a few days off and headin' to Barbados! I'm a
bachelor now, y'know.
> The main room of the Golden Rinnebeast was only occupied by three
>people.
TOM: Piper, Paige and Phoebe.
> Up against the far corner was Commander Riker, sprawled out in his
>seat against the wall.
CROW: His oily, doughy body was splayed out for all to see as he snored
himself into a stupor.
> Captain Picard sat stiffly in his chair, looking
>over hand written reports.
TOM: Oddly, for Picard, this *is* how he relaxes.
> The last of the occupants was standing, her
>hands clasp behind her back. Marrissa's report was the latest to be added
>to the piles in front of the Captain.
MIKE: [Picard] Hmm, I see you're preparing to subjugate yet another innocent
world to your evil, twisted whims.
CROW: [Marrissa] Yep, that's me.
MIKE: [Picard] Make it so.
> "I must say that your handwriting is much improved, Marrissa,"
>Captain Picard said. "This is a very through report on the political
>situation.
TOM: [Picard] But I still don't understand what happened in the New Jersey
Senate race.
> Number One, are we ready to proceed with the trial?"
CROW: Just as soon as Dylan McDermott pulls himself out of his latest funk.
> "As soon as the other Captains arrive, and Captain York turns himself
>in," Riker replied.
> "He will be here in the morning," Picard said.
>
MIKE: [Picard] But not until I've had my first gallon of coffee.
TOM: Out of the frying pan into the fire.
MIKE: Speaking of which, I'm starting to get a bit peckish.
TOM: Yeah, me too.
CROW: Really? Hey, I know a great new restaurant you oughtta try.
[All leave]
O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6]
[SOL Bridge - Mike & Tom are looking around]
MIKE: So where's this place supposed to be?
TOM: Crow said it was here someplace. It's gotta be - ah! There it is.
[We pull back to see a table and a couple of chairs set up to the right
of the theater entrance. Above them is a sign that reads "Sir Crow's
Authentic Ellosian Edibles". Mike and Tom go over and sit in the chairs
(don't ask how Tom does it - just accept it and move on with your lives).]
MIKE: Nice place.
TOM: Yeah, the atmosphere's not bad either.
[Enter Crow]
CROW: Ah, good afternoon, gentlemen, and welcome to Sir Crow's Authentic
Ellosian Edibles, the only place on the whole entire Satellite of
Love to feature genuine Ellosian cuisine. I'm Crow, and I'll be
your waitron for today. Now, what can I get you?
MIKE: Hmm, well, it's our first time here - what do you recommend?
CROW: Well, to start off with, I'd suggest every Ellosian's favorite
appetizer, bread and jam.
MIKE: Sounds good - I'll have sourdough and blackberry.
TOM: Lessee, pumpernickel and - hey, you got any apple jelly?
CROW: [incensed] JELLY?!? Listen, bub, this is basic Ellosian cuisine,
okay? Jam is what we got, not your precious *jelly*!!!
TOM: Woah!
CROW: Whattaya think, I have every single obscure food served anywhere
on the planet or something?
TOM: Well yeah. It says you do on your brochure!
CROW: And who are you gonna believe - me or my own stinking brochure?!
MIKE: Look, let's just skip the appetizer and go on, okay? How about
something to drink?
CROW: [effusive] Excellent idea, sir! We have a wide selection of
complementary house drinks, including wine, beer, ale, grog,
sour mash, white lightning, Sterno, furniture polish, and
Prestone Anitfreeze.
TOM: Got any iced tea?
CROW: Slightly extra - about 250 bucks.
MIKE: Milk?
CROW: Five hundred.
TOM: How about just a glass of tap water?
CROW: Okay, but I'll have to run a credit check.
MIKE: Yeesh. Okay, just bring us some ale along with the main course.
CROW: Oh! I suggest the meat pie - it's quite good today.
TOM: Well, let's just go with, then.
CROW: Very good. In the meantime, enjoy our complimentary fruit plate
while your meal is being prepared.
[Crow lifts up a platter bearing a lemon, a yucky-looking ball of fuzz,
a cluster of small red objects, something wrapped in paper, and a roundish,
shiny, silvery thing.]
MIKE: Um, and these are...
CROW: Delicious native Ellosian fruits - specifically, yellowfruit,
grayfruit, redfruit, bluefruit and silverfruit. Enjoy yourselves -
I'll be right back with your yummy meat pies. [exeunts]
TOM: I'm almost scared to ask, but what do we got here?
MIKE: Well, looks like the yellowfruit is a standard lemon.
TOM: Weird - that actually almost makes sense.
MIKE: Almost. And lessee, the grayfruit - oh, yuck! It's a moldy,
spoiled tangerine!
TOM: And look! The redfruit's nothing but - radishes?!
MIKE: The bluefruit looks like a banana or something.
TOM: A blue banana?
MIKE: Yeah, it's, uh, it's wrapped in Blue's Clues "Happy Birthday" paper.
TOM: Nice. What about the other one, the silver thingy?
MIKE: [picks it up and scrutinizes it] Near as I can tell, I think it's
either a mango or a papaya covered in - I dunno, Krylon?
[pause]
MIKE: I'll be honest, I'm starting to have a bad feeling about this.
TOM: Okay, it's been kind of disappointing so far, but I've heard the
meat pie here is really really good.
MIKE: Who told you that?
TOM: Well, Crow did, so it *must* be - oh, here he comes now.
[Crow returns, bearing two suspiciously dessert-looking pies.]
CROW: Well, here we are! Bon Apetit, boys!
MIKE: [looking at it very much askance] Um, and these are...
CROW: Meat pies, of course.
TOM: Heh, I don't mean to be nosy, but, uh, what kind of meat pies,
*exactly*, are talking about here?
CROW: It's today's special - Catfish Meringue!
MIKE & TOM: [look at each other blearily for a second, then] URRRMPH!
ARRGGHH! BLEAH!
[Both make a dash for clear air, Mike holding his hand over his mouth.]
CROW: Hey, wait! You haven't even tried it yet! C'mon! *sigh*
Dang! I *knew* I should've gone with the souse a la mode.
[lights flash] Oh well. Huh? Hello, Sir Crow's Authentic
Ellosion Edibles - who's calling please?
[CF - Bobo, licking his lips]
BOBO: Um, did I hear someone say - catfish meringue?!? [rubs hands
together] Oh please, *please* tell me you deliver! Mmmmmmm..
COMMERCIALS
1) Spielberg good! "Taken" good! "Shield" Bad!
2) Dude, you're gettin' a new ad campaign!
3) I'm Harley Earl, and I've come back to build you a great car that
you can't possibly afford unless you make Tiger's salary!
[All enter]
MIKE: Sorry about running out on you like that, Crow.
CROW: That's okay, I found an alternate buyer.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-01!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!news-
>spur1.maxwell.syr.edu!news.maxwell.syr.edu!newsfeed-
>east.nntpserver.com!nntpserver.com!newsfeed1.easynews.com!easynews.com!
>easynews!nntp2.aus1.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!
CROW: So Giganews is equal to, what, one billion newses?
TOM: Yeah, a billion copies of a regular newspaper. Or one Sunday edition
of the New York Times.
> newsfeed1.earthlink.net!
>newsfeed.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!
>newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 13/18 [PG] (Marrissa Stories)
MIKE: Look out, he's going up again!
CROW: This *is* the Marrissafic that never ends!
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <cd77qu4hem7gp6d0l3qneofgglr7r2i1ke@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
>Lines: 194
>Date: Wed, 09 Oct 2002 02:12:35 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.188.72.76
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1034129555 63.188.72.76
>(Tue, 08 Oct 2002 19:12:35 PDT)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 08 Oct 2002 19:12:35 PDT
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161312
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 13/18 Weekly
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>(speed of posting increased)
>
[Tom does speeded-up tape noises]
>Chapter Twelve: The Stars of Destiny
>
CROW: Ladies and Gentlemen, Kelly Clarkson!
> Prince Avery laid back on the grass in the Odyssey's garden,
>looking up at the stars.
MIKE: Waiting for the Narcs to show up.
> The cool night air off the bay was very
>relaxing. Somewhere above him was the ship that his father was on, the
>Enterprise. Avery had been left in charge while his father faced trial.
TOM: Well, so much for Sovereign Immunity.
>It had been a very busy day for the young Prince, and this was really the
>first time he'd been able to get away from it.
> It had started with the arrangements for his father.
CROW: Yeah, who knew he could go through that many hookers a day?
> He'd be
>sending a daily report back and forth via the Stargazer. That was how he'd
>escaped from the pressures of the day,
MIKE: Y'know, if you're doing paperwork to *relax*, you've made a serious
career mistake somewhere.
> by taking the report to the dock
>himself, then not coming directly back to his father's office. It was time
>to end the day anyway.
CROW: [Avery] Welp, no point puttin' it off - better break out the cyanide.
> He heard the grass rustle beside him. Turning his head, he was
>surprised to see his sister actually wearing a dress.
TOM: Usually, she just ran around naked as a jaybird.
CROW: Especially since she started seeing sailor boy.
> "Hello Avery,"
>Brittany said. For a long while they just stared up at the stars.
TOM: [Avery] They're all so... big!
>"Which one is the ship Dad's up on?"
> "I'm not sure," Avery said. "Father said I probably wouldn't be
>able to spot it, though. How long have you known?"
CROW: [Brittany] Since a couple of nights ago, but now I can't walk straight.
MIKE: [wincing] Crow, please.
> "Two years," Brittany said. "I was hiding in Dad's Office when
>Lord Harlan talked to Dad about the possibility Dad being put on trial like
>he is now.
CROW: [Brittany] By the way, what's the "Twinkie Defense"?
> I never really believed, it's a little hard to, isn't it?"
TOM: [Mulder] I want to believe.
> "A little? My father, long time King was flying around among the
>stars for years before I was born, and was born on another planet," Avery
>said.
MIKE: I felt the same way when I found out my folks had been to Woodstock.
> "I knew they were different, but this ..."
TOM: Scene is going nowhere.
> "Why just Dad though?" Brittany asked. "There are still about
>three score of Dad's crew alive in Ellosia."
CROW: And someday he'll find out where they're hiding, the big snitches!
> "He said that the Captain is responsible for the actions of his
>crew," Avery said. "I guess it's a noble idea, but I'd rather he not have
>to do it at all. Especially after yesterday."
TOM: But - but I *believe* in yesterday!
> "I know," Brittany said. "What are we going to do?"
> "I don't know what you're going to do," Avery said. "I've got all
>the big problems. Do you know just how many reports that Father gets?
MIKE: [Avery] Dad's life's on the line, and the paperwork is just *horrible*!
>Then there is the decision of what to do with all the captive members of
>Lord Henry's forces that Father left to me.
CROW: Let's see, hmmmm, oh here's an idea, how about JAIL?!?
> I'm actually glad Lord Henry
>escaped, because I don't want to handle dealing with that scum.
MIKE: Yeah, you scrub and you scrub and you still can't get him out.
> He locked
>up mom and left her to die alone!"
TOM: You just know that'll never come back to haunt him in the future.
> "I know," Brittany said. "Do you want me to handle the
>arrangements for Mom's funeral?"
CROW: [Brittany] I can get Creed to play it for only $125,000!
MIKE: [Avery] Hmmm, what can we get for $500?
CROW: [Brittany] Either a William Shatner impersonator or Molly Hatchet.
> "Sure," Avery said, going silent for a while, staring up at the
>stars. He was sure a dim trio of them weren't moving like the others.
>
TOM: Once again, the Baldwin Brothers make their mark on Hollywood.
> Captain Richard York, late of the USS Odyssey, and current King of
>Ellosia,
ALL: And a good friend!
> was trying to make his dress uniform collar comfortable when the
>door chime rang.
TOM: [Doorbell] Los-er!
> Rear Admiral Picard had decided to give him quarters
>instead of keeping him in the brig.
CROW: Give the guy a few rounds of Q*Bert and he'll stay in one spot forever.
> True there was a pair of guards
>outside the door, but he appreciated the courtesy. The door chimed again.
>"Enter."
TOM: Without even checking to see who it is first? That's how he almost
got himself coup d'etat-ed.
CROW: He has a trusting soul - and the brains of a cheese slicer.
> "Captain York, the court is ready to go in session," the young
>girl's voice said.
MIKE: Which was strange, because it was coming out of a 49-year old man.
> Captain York turned around to discover the same blond
>girl that had arrested him the previous night.
MIKE: Geez, suddenly she's all over the place!
TOM: I hear she's taking over *all* the roles on "Boomtown".
> She was now in her own
>dress whites, with the gray insert instead of the white he had.
CROW: He's been away so long, he didn't even realize it was after Labor
Day, the poor dope.
> On her
>mustard yellow mock turtle's collar, there were the two pips that denoted
>the girl's rank.
CROW: You know, I'm genuinely surprised that Marrissa actually isn't getting
as much air time as she usually does.
> "Please show the way, Lieutenant," Captain York said.
TOM: Then take me tonight to the river and wash my illusions away.
> The hallways of this ship were a lot darker than the ones from his
>era.
MIKE: They replaced all the 75 watt bulbs with 40 watt ones. Saved a real
bundle, from what I heard.
> This was the Federation Flagship, he'd been told, USS Enterprise
>NCC-1701-E. Apparently the D hadn't lasted long.
TOM: Hey, seven whole seasons - and most of a movie.
CROW: Everything was fine until they let the ship's counselor drive.
> It was different that he
>expected.
CROW: Duller.
MIKE: More derivative.
TOM: Fewer babes in miniskirts.
> The girl leading him to trial proved that.
MIKE: [Marrissa] If you'll look at this irrefutable data I've collected,
it's different than what you expected.
CROW: [York] By Jove, she's right!
> She couldn't be much
>older than his own daughter, but he'd heard her referred to as Chief,
CROW: [Marrissa] Don't call me chief.
>and she wore Lieutenant's pips.
TOM: She's a chief *and* a lieutenant! It's wacky!
> Ahead he could see two more officers standing guard at a plain
>door.
MIKE: It's the high-security vanilla storeroom.
> The Lieutenant seemed to be heading for it. The door opened. Just
>a few more steps and he'd see the room he'd been dreading since the day his
>ship had crashed.
>
CROW: The Madrid Room at the Sheraton.
TOM: Now he has to explain all those low Amway sales figures.
> The court room was rather plain, with dark gray walls. A judges
>bench dominated one wall, with places for three,
CROW: And plenty of trunk space.
> and a witness stand to one
>side. A table for the defense, and a table for the prosecution,
TOM: And a kids' table.
> plus a
>court reporter's stand, all in burnished silver.
CROW: Plus an icebox with a mini-bar
> The only adornment in the
>room were two flags, the blue banner of the United Federation of Planets,
>and the white and red one of Star Fleet.
MIKE: Both of them had pictures of Marrissa that covered 95% of the banner.
> Captain York took his seat beside Commander Riker.
CROW: [Riker] Welcome to the Cool People Table! Everyone knows that only
losers sit at the prosecution table!
> The prosecution
>appeared to be a light skinned alien with Lieutenant Commander's pips.
CROW: The Michelin Man joins Starfleet.
>The court reporter, a Bolian, was the only other person in the room at the
>moment.
TOM: How about that - a Bolian who hasn't been killed yet.
> Captain York barely had time to wonder what was taking the
>remainder of the court's time to arrive, when the door opened and another
>young girl, this with short brown hair entered.
MIKE: Captain York had the sinking feeling his court martial was being
handled by the Aaron Carter Fan Club.
CROW: And he was right.
> She went to stand in front
>of the bench, and said, "This special court martial session under Section
>847 of the Star Fleet Code of Justice Regulations is now in session.
TOM: [Girl] Attorneys are asked to leave the customary bribes at the
front desk.
>Rear Admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise, presiding,
MIKE: [Girl] Anyone caught snickering at the term "Rear Admiral" gets
30 days in the brig.
> Captain T'Gwen
>Washington of the Miranda,
CROW: Anyone else having "Premier Ma(r)qui(s)" flashbacks at this point?
MIKE: I am.
TOM: Me too.
TOM09: Me three.
TOM02: Me four.
CROW: Yeah, I - huh?
TOM: What?
> and Captain Yuki Yoshida of the Tian Men
>complete the panel. Please rise for the Judges."
CROW: Captains Paula Abdul and Simon Crowell.
> Captain York stood, and examined the judges as they entered. He
>hadn't been aware that Picard had been promoted, but it was high time that
>the Captain of the flagship carry flag rank.
TOM: Because darn it, no ordinary Captain can do the job!
> Captain Washington appeared
>to be Vulcan, which probably meant she'd be a literalist when judging him.
MIKE: So he had to be careful not to tell the panel, "Bite Me".
[Crow nips Mike]
MIKE: YOWCH! What was *that* for?!?
CROW: I've become a literalist in my spare time.
>Captain Yoshida was a short Japanese man, who seemed to be quite serious,
TOM: Actually, though, he was quite silly.
>as he sat down to the left of Admiral Picard. It didn't look like the
>panel would be very in favor of his case.
MIKE: Even though it was made from the finest imitation Moroccan leather.
> "Please be seated," Admiral Picard said. "Shayna, please read the
>charges."
> "The Defendant, Captain Richard Paul York, late of the USS
>Odyssey,"
CROW: I'll say! We waited for him for over an hour!
> Shayna began, reading from a PADD, "is charged with violating the
>Prime Directive in his actions in the last twenty years,
TOM: He "pulled a Kirk".
MIKE: I once pulled a Kirk. Had to stay off my feet for a week.
> while stranded on
>the planet designated Gamma Hydra Three.
TOM: There's just something poetic and moving about the way Starfleet
chooses such lyrical names for planets.
> In particular, his is charged
MIKE: His *what*?
CROW: His own bad self.
>with taking over the government of the primitive nation state of Ellosia on
>that planet, and ruling it for the last 20 years,
CROW: And he did it all without rigging the Supreme Court vote, too.
> failure to destroy items
>of technology above the planet's level,
MIKE: Soap.
TOM: Combs.
CROW: Bread.
> and use of the said items to
>accomplish that rule."
TOM: [Washington] Guilty!
CROW: [Yoshida] Guilty!
MIKE: [Picard] Ix-nay! We haven't done the trial yet.
> "How does the defendant plead,"
MIKE: Probably on his knees like a coward.
> Admiral Picard asked, his eyes
>focused on Captain York.
MIKE: That Lasix surgery really paid off for Jean-Luc.
> Commander Riker stood, and said, "Your honor, the Defendant wishes
>to plead Not Guilty to the charge of use of technology to take over
>Ellosia, and Provisionally Guilty to the charges of takeover, ruling, and
>failure to destroy."
CROW: [York] It's a fair cop, but society's to blame.
MIKE: [Picard] Agreed. We'll be charging them, too.
> "The court will hear the provisions," Admiral Picard said.
CROW: He wants a big bowl of orange Reese's Pieces and a fresh bottle of
Evian each shift.
> "On the charge of failure to destroy, Captain York contends that he
>complied with it to the best of his abilities, but was unable do more with
>the materials available," Riker said.
TOM: [York] Hmm, guess you can't paper-cut a phaser to death. Oh well, may
as well hang on to it, then.
> "On the charges of take over and
>rule of a primitive nation state, Captain York contends that by doing so,
>he is preserving sprit of the Prime Directive, given that his ship crashed
>and crushed the previous ruling body in it's landing."
MIKE: [Riker] So you can see how committing a simple act of mass homicide led
him to make his compassionate decision to grab power with both fists.
> Admiral Picard looked left and right, getting brief nods from
>Captains Washington and Yoshida.
TOM: Party in 10-Forward after the lynching. Pass it on.
> "The Court will accept those provisions,"
>he said. "Mister Data, do you have an opening statement prepared?"
MIKE: [Data] No sir, because I don't think I'm in this scene.
> "Your honor, I do," Data said, standing.
CROW: ["Airplane" guy] Check it, bleed! Bro - was *on*!
> "The defendant crashed on
>this planet twenty years ago in the middle of the First Cardassian War, and
>is currently ruling a small country known as Ellosia as King Richard I.
TOM: His other aliases include "The Big Y", "Ricky the Weasel" and "Tiffany".
>These are the readily observable facts. The Prosecution intends to prove
>that King Richard is not only King, but became so by force of arms,
MIKE: He had help from Doctor Octopus.
>and uses technology to maintain that rule. Furthermore, the Prosecution
>contends that the Defendant has made no effort to maintain even the sprit
>of the Prime Directive."
TOM: [Data] And the Prosecution contends that the defendant is a great big
doody-head!
CROW: [Riker] Oh yeah? Well the defense contends that you should shut up!
> Data sat down once again.
> "Commander Riker, do you have an opening statement prepared?"
>Admiral Picard asked.
TOM: [Riker] Yes, I'd like to discuss some exciting new products from
the Amway corporation.
MIKE: [Picard] Overruled! This is *my* territory, Beard Boy!
> "I do your honor," Riker said, standing. "Captain Richard York is
>a man who had to make many difficult decisions.
CROW: Why, just this morning, he had to choose between IHOP's Rooty-Tooty
Fresh'n'Fruity and the Denny's Grand Slam!
> These were decisions
>which he spent lots of time considering. He worked to minimize a Prime
>Directive violation situation that was beyond his control to prevent.
MIKE: The planet just swerved right in front of him! Honest!
>We shall prove that the initial violation was beyond his control and since
>then he has done as best as he could to implement as many ways to reduce
>that violation.
TOM: Yeah, like letting his wife die a horrible and painful death!
> While it is true that he rules a small nation on the
>planet below,
TOM: [Riker] ...He only does that in his spare time.
> we shall prove that Captain York acts in line with rules of
>the planet, and only took over due to his saucer section crashing on his
>predecessor.
MIKE: [Riker] And if you're not careful, he'll do you the same "favor".
> He felt that this gave him the responsibility to insure
>orderly succession. He has made it his life's work to make sure his
>arrival has had as little impact as possible.
TOM: He kinda blew that goal on day 1, huh?
CROW: It was all a stone skipping contest gone horribly wrong.
> It is that dedication to the
>spirit of the Prime Directive that deserves not to be punished, but
>rewarded."
>
MIKE: Of course, he's forgetting the fact that he killed off the old king
and all of his court.
CROW: He had no choice, Mike. They wouldn't get out of his ship's way.
> Captain Richard York sat at his desk in the quarters he'd been
>assigned, gazing out the window. Before him was a couple sheets of
>parchment, a quill, and an ink jar.
MIKE: HE HAS - a fish, a screwdriver, an aspirin, a thing his aunt gave
him and he doesn't know what it is, and no tea.
> The first day of his trial had been
>draining, but he had hopes still. He picked up the quill and began to
>write.
>
TOM: "Dear Diary. So, what's new with you?"
>Dear Avery,
> As it's still my first day back in the stars,
CROW: From captain to king to "ET" Correspondent - his dream finally
come true!
> I have yet to receive
>your report. Our letters will probably pass each other's, most of the
>time.
TOM: [York] So don't make me come down there!
> Not much has changed up here, only the uniforms. It's still the
>same old Star Fleet, out exploring the galaxy.
MIKE: New life, new civilizations, boldly going, blah blah blah...
> I hope you're handling everything down there. I really left you a
>mess this time.
CROW: No kidding. Avery is definitely the Sarge to York's Beetle Bailey.
> I will return for at least your mother's burial,
TOM: [York] Just to make sure.
> and
>probably your wedding. Beyond that, it depends on the trial.
> So far the trial is going well.
TOM: Cogley hasn't even resorted to masking anyone's heartbeats yet.
> Commander Riker is making a very
>spirited defense of my case. I haven't really figured out Lieutenant
>Commander Data, who is prosecuting me.
CROW: Nobody can figure out Data - he's...
ALL: The wind, baby!
CROW: [pause] I'm using that too much, aren't I?
MIKE: A tad, perhaps.
> He seems quite unemotional.
TOM: And immediately, Lucas signs him to appear in "Star Wars III".
> I really didn't have the time to tell you just how proud I am of
>how you handled the situation of the past week.
MIKE: He doesn't have time in a letter?
CROW: He - types - very - verrrrrrrry - sloooooooooooooooooooooow...
> The whole kingdom could
>have easily fallen into civil war, but you managed to contain Lord Henry
>and then engineer his defeat.
TOM: Even better, the peer review committee accepted your draft proposal.
> I know you had help, in the form of Earl
>Cedric,
CROW: Shape of - Water!
> Duchess Desiree, Hayley, and your sister, but you were in charge,
>and both Cedric and Desiree have made that clear to me.
> Speaking of your sister,
MIKE: And by now, half the navy is.
> please try to keep her and Lord Treavor
>from intimacies, at least until that betrothal agreement is signed.
CROW: Better call Peter Graves, because that's Mission Impossible.
> And
>just in case, see if they'll consider making your wedding a double wedding.
TOM: [York] Marry two chicks, if you can. You're royalty, so you can get
away with it, y'know.
>I'm pretty sure it's going to be necessary.
> I'll write again tomorrow night.
>
MIKE: Don't threaten the boy! He needs encouragement.
>Sincerely,
>
>your father, Richard R II
>
TOM: *beedle-blorp*
CROW: [C3P0] Oh, do come along, Artoo!
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
MIKE: Well, it is a proven fact that all writers die.
TOM: Yep, and statistics show that most violent criminals have written
something at least once.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-06!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!newsfeed.news2me.com!
>newsfeed2.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
CROW: SIGNED!
MIKE: SEALED!
TOM: DELIVERED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 14/18 (Marrissa Stories)
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
CROW: "Virtual Staff"? Is that kind of like an imaginary friend for a
manager?
>Message-ID: <bk7sru8d2u9n0ci8vqvus4iobdu7k3l9mn@4ax.com>
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>Date: Tue, 29 Oct 2002 04:38:25 GMT
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>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:38:25 PST
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161581
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 14/18
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E
TOM: Appearing now in "Nemesis", a lucky even-numbered film...
MIKE: Well, until it got beat out on opening weekend by a Jennifer Lopez
romantic comedy.
[Pause]
TOM: I thought we agreed not to speak of that ever again.
MIKE: Oops. Sorry.
> investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: Commander Adama invades Liechtenstein.
>Chapter Thirteen:
>Debates of Fate
>
TOM: The League of Wrasslin', Nightie-Clad Women Voters presents Torgo
vs. The Master!
MIKE: [Torgo] ThE mAsTeR wAnTs YoUr VoTeS, bUt He CaNnOt HaVe ThEm!
> The throne room was silent as Prince Avery stood at the door.
CROW: Then he switched on the "Applause" sign.
>It was a grim task he was handling today.
MIKE: It was his turn to change Michael Jackson's nose putty.
> Hayley was at side, her hand held
>gently by his own.
CROW: That's nice, but what about the rest of her?
> His sister stood behind them, for once actually in
>a dress,
MIKE: Well, technically it was a kilt, but at least it was a step in the
right direction.
> though not with out her favorite sword, a gift of Duke Nolan upon
>her receiving her squire's rank.
CROW: [Brittany] Just like a man - can't remember your dress size, so
he buys you a sword!
> "All rise for His Royal Highness, Prince Avery, sitting in
>judgement for the crown," he heard as he stepped across the threshold.
MIKE: *sigh* Well, guys, he did it - it's the Kids' Court.
CROW: At this point, Mike, I can't even pretend to be shocked.
>He'd arranged for plenty of witnesses today, on Earl Cedric's advice.
CROW: That way, he has an alibi.
>He'd asked for a wide range of people, including one of the cooks from
>Avtra Keep,
TOM: [darkly] This better not be turning into another stinking food fight!
> the entire City Council, and the Earl of Avtra's Own.
CROW: And for no reason at all, the Flaming Lips.
> Avery was very nervous, especially as he saw Duke Nolan sitting
>next to Duchess Desiree and Earl Cedric. He passed them without comment
>though,
CROW: Oooh, the silent treatment.
> then took a seat on a chair that had been placed in front of the
>throne.
MIKE: He likes to sit really really really close to the screen.
> Brittany sat on his left, and Hayley on his right.
TOM: I'm Hillary Clinton, and you're sitting in my chair.
> "The crown sits in judgement!" the chamberlain announced. "Call
>for the first defendant!"
TOM: It's Brent Spiner, reprising his wacky role as Bob on "Night Court".
CROW: [grumbling] Might as well! Not like he's doing anything *else*
these days!
MIKE: Still bitter over how "Nemesis" ended?
CROW: Continually, Mike - continually!
> A gasp went through the nobles as the first defendant entered.
MIKE: I can't believe Winona went *back* to Saks!
> He
>was in shackles. From his tunic, it was clear that this man was a noble.
TOM: And a tacky one, at that.
>His bearing merely confirmed that, as he held his head high, and his
>shoulders squared.
CROW: Or he's just a peasant with excellent posture.
> Brittany stood, and read from a parchment she held. "Dale, Earl of
>Arlipor, you are charged with treason,
TOM: I thought he betrayed Dale.
> having rose up in arms against your
>lawful king, Richard, the second of that name. How do you plead?"
CROW: [Dale Gribble] I would first of all like to point out that I do not
recognize this court's authority on the account that my attorney is
not present and one has not been appointed to me. Second: can I use
your bathroom?
> The Earl of Arlipor remained silent.
MIKE: But violent.
> Avery stared at him, saying, "You can either say guilty, or not
>guilty.
CROW: Well, he *could* say pretty much anything he wanted to.
> If your yelling earlier in the day wore out your voice, you can nod
>for guilty, shake for not.
TOM: C'mon, boy, shake! Shake! That's it! Ooo's a good boy, ess oo is!
> Otherwise, we'll assume you're guilty and get
>on with the sentence."
MIKE: [Avery] Now, as you can see, we've diagrammed the subject and the
predicate like so...
> The Earl remained stiff and unmoving.
TOM: Pretty much like this whole story, in other words.
> "Let the record indicate that Earl Dale pleaded guilty by his
>silence," Avery said.
CROW: Mike, isn't this why America left England in the first place?
MIKE: One of many reasons.
> "The court has received letters in defense of the
>defendant from the Court Defender.
CROW: [Avery] These defenders are defending the defense of the defendant
to be defensively defendable.
> Does anyone have words to add in the
>defense of the accused?"
CROW: [bystander] He never missed a mortgage payment!
TOM: [bystander] He makes a heck of a tuna salad casserole!
MIKE: [bystander] He always had the best candy at Halloween!
> The room remained silent. The Earl remained standing stiffly.
CROW: I hear this guy had to practice all night to get his lines just right!
> "The court, having read the charges, and the defense presented, and
>receiving no further evidence in open court, is prepared to issue a
>decision," Avery said.
TOM: [Avery] So screw you, Jack Klugman and Henry Fonda!
> "I find you Guilty as charged.
MIKE: Of love in the first degree.
> Given the nature of
>the charges, I sentence you to death by beheading.
CROW: [Avery] Or, if you prefer, you can keep your head and we'll simply
remove your torso from the neck down.
> Furthermore, your
>titles will be stripped, and your lands returned to the Duchy of Castrome.
CROW: Ya know, Avery, maybe you should try the smaller punishments first!
You know, to kind of *build up* to the beheading.
>Your title will be given to the future husband of the Lady Leia.
ALL: HAN SOLO?!?
> From this
>day forward you will no longer be counted among the nobility of Ellosia."
MIKE: Because you'll be, y'know, all dead and stuff.
> The Earl did not move, but his face became very pale. Without his
>nobility the Earl would no longer be beheaded by the sword.
TOM: Oh - well see, there's *one* good thing about all this.
> Instead, an ax
>would take his head, which would no doubt be displayed around the kingdom.
MIKE: Wow, the Smithsonian traveling exhibit's getting desperate!
>Still, he remained silent as soldiers took him away.
CROW: Lord Marcel of Marceau, everyone.
> "Call for the next
>defendant!"
TOM: Please pick up on line 2. Next defendant, please pick up line 2.
> The next defendant was a stout man, wearing the arms of the
>Fasstime Army.
CROW: It was a meatball sandwich, a medium coke & some girl's phone number.
> Unlike the former Earl, this man stood slumped, his head
>bowed.
TOM: [moaning] Oooh, did I hit the hard stuff last night.
> "Sargent Garret, you stand here accused of murder of the Lord
>Dorian, Royal Tutor and former Chamberlain,
MIKE: And former guest star on "The Practice"...
> as well as participating in a
>treasonous rebellion against His Majesty, King Richard the Second of the
>name," Princess Brittany said. "How do you plead?"
CROW: [Garrett] Uh, like this - PLEEEEEEEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!
OHPLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASE!!
> "I was just following orders," Garret replied firmly.
TOM: Nein! Nein! Zie sprechen der falsen!
> "Record the Sargent's plea as Guilty with provisions," Avery said.
MIKE: "Provisions"?
CROW: Maybe he gets to carry a backpack full of canned meats and smokes
to the chopping block with him.
>"Does the defendant have anything to add to his defense?"
ALL: DE-FENSE! DE-FENSE! DE-FENSE!
> "Defense? You've misdirected your charges," Garret replied. "I
>was merely the instrument Lord Henry used this time.
TOM: [Garret] Look! See these strings? I was his banjo!
> He's been like this
>since before King Richard took the throne. He killed Prince Ferrel, and
>blamed it on Duke Nolan when he was just sixteen.
MIKE: Wow, and I thought my brother was bad for knocking down mailboxes and
blaming it on me.
> Drake, Earl of Avtra was
>his victim too. He used to boast on how he got away with it.
CROW: Or he would have if not for those meddling kids and their dog!
> No one would
>ever expect the head of Fasstime's Customs Service to smuggle in a deadly
>poison like the scarlet death."
TOM: [Garret] Which I wasn't suppose to tell you... damn!
> Avery turned briefly to Hayley, and whispered, "remind me to have
>Lord Harlen compile a list of people who died by the scarlet death."
MIKE: [Avery] And sort them by zip code. We can market funeral services
big time!
> "He conspired with the Earl of Arlipor, the Baron of Greenstone
>Keep, and Lord Oswald, to take your father's place, and you're persecuting
>me?"
CROW: [Avery] Yes I am.
MIKE: [Garret] Alright, thanks for clearing that up.
> "Rest assured that Lord Henry will be on trial as soon as we find
>him, if we can get him here alive," Avery said. "Are you willing to
>provide evidence against Lord Henry and others?"
TOM: Who was the man with the umbrella in Dealey Plaza?! Where was Woody
Harrelson's father!? What's Castro's phone number?!?
> "Evidence ... I'll give you chapter and verse if it helps my case."
CROW: [Garret] I'll manufacture it if I have - uh, what I mean is, yes.
> "Your sentence will remain,
MIKE: [Garret] You haven't sentenced me yet.
TOM: It's a double-secret sentence. Now hush.
> the method of carrying it out, however,
>might be changed, and it will be delayed as long as you are useful and
>truthful," Avery said.
MIKE: Once he's spilled his guts, though, he's dog meat.
TOM: "Useful"? Since when did Avery start turning into a Bond villain?
> "Guards, please take Sargent Garret back down.
>We'll resume his case later. Brittany, next case."
CROW: This guy is the Dr. Phil of medieval trial judging.
> "Bring in, Lord Virgil of Arlipor," Brittany said, before a young
>boy no older than ten was brought in.
TOM: *snicker* Obviously a hardened criminal.
MIKE: Being named "Virgil" drove him to a life of reckless candy store
robberies.
> Unlike the previous prisoners, he
>was not restrained in any matter. "Lord Vigil stands accused of
>participating in the capture of the Odyssey and assisting his father in the
>furtherance of the conspiracy."
TOM: Dad bought him a Playskool "My First Conspiracy" kit.
> "Lord Vigil," Avery said. "You stand accused of serious crimes
>today, however, you are young, and as such we do not hold you accountable
>for much of them.
TOM: Because, as a child, you have no control of your own actions and are
incapable of free thought. It's probably all because of those
Moral Combat and Resident of Evil Creek games you play.
> I am not even asking for a plea from you,
CROW: [Avery] Although if you want to, you can go right ahead.
> as you are an
>innocent who has not yet reached his eleventh year."
TOM: So he's ten, then?
CROW: That's one theory, yes.
> "Thank you, your highness," Virgil said politely, with a bow.
> "You are welcome, young lord," Avery said. "You may note that we
>have stripped your father of his rank and station.
MIKE: [Avery] We did it off screen, though. S&P already wants our scalps.
> We do not propose to do
>so with you, though you will likely never have your father's earldom, save
>if you marry into the family.
CROW: So to get his title back, he has to - what, marry his cousin?
TOM: Aaah, for royalty, that's no big deal.
> That post needs to lay fallow. As you are
>not of age, the crown and your duchess will take it upon ourselves to see
>to your remaining education.
MIKE: [Avery] The Allies won World War II. Well, that's done!
TOM: The kid's best shot at this point is a football scholarship to good
ol' Castrome U.
> If you will swear loyalty to the crown and
>your Duchess."
CROW: [Avery] If not, it's choppy choppy! Uh, Mike, could you do the
slitting motion across your throat? My arms don't work?
[Mike does so]
CROW: Thanks.
> Virgil prostrated himself before the throne and said, "I swear I
>will never betray my King or my Duchess."
MIKE: [Virgil] At least until something better pops up.
> "Lord Treavor of Armedge, step forward," Lady Hayley ordered.
TOM: It's the return of Captain Roman Polansky.
> The
>Captain and second son of the Duke of Armedge approached and bowed to the
>Prince and Princess. "In this matter I speak for the Duchess of Castrome.
CROW: And he does it while drinking this glass of water.
>Are you willing to accept our vassal, Lord Treavor of Armedge as your page,
>and future squire?"
MIKE: Or maybe even as the Secret Squire?
TOM: I'll take Earl George of Gobel to block.
> "I will gladly accept your charge, Lady Hayley," Treavor said.
CROW: [Treavor] For I have brought my 220 volt adapter!
> "Lord Virgil, since you are the first page to be called to serve
>Lord Treavor, Princess Brittany will see to your outfitting as her final
>duty as Duke Nolan's squire," Avery said.
TOM: [Virgil] Aw, man, I *hate* shopping for school clothes!
> After a minute's pause, Avery stood and announced, "Court is
>adjourned."
MIKE: Fifty dollars and...
ALL: TIME SERVED!
> To little fan fare,
CROW: But an absolute glut of fan fiction.
> the three exited, Lord Treavor and Lord
>Vigil following in their wake.
>
>
TOM: It's the hippest, deffest new X-Game - Peer-Skiing!
> Jean-Luc Picard led his fellow starship captains to a nearby
>lounge, already stocked with refreshments.
MIKE: Meaning he's charging 20 bars of latinum for a Butterfinger from
the minifridge.
> They had sat through three days
>of testimony and evidence.
TOM: Which are nothing compared to the O.J. trial.
> All the reports of the Enterprise's
>investigation had been read, and their authors cross examined.
MIKE: And now... Crossfire, Star Trek style.
> Several of
>Captain York's surviving officers had been brought on board briefly for
>testimony as well. Testimony was over.
CROW: Now it's time to kick back and pop a few brewskis!
> "Captain Yoshida, what is your impression of Captain York?" Picard
>asked.
TOM: [Yoshida] Awful, but I do a pretty good Christopher Walken.
> Yuki Yoshida was the Captain with the least seniority on the board,
>having received his Captaincy only four months before.
MIKE: At this point, he's willing to give it back if Picard will just
stop yammering at him.
> He was of Japanese
>descent,
TOM: [snicker]
CROW: For those of you who may have missed the subtle clue of his name.
> with dark black eyes and hair.
MIKE: Black eyes? Did someone pull the binocular trick on him or does he
just get into a lot of fights?
> He sat on the edge of the white
>cloth covered chair, seeming ready to bolt from the room at any moment.
MIKE: I know how he feels.
TOM: The second anyone even mentions the prime directive, he's outta there.
> "He's a good leader in a bad situation," Yoshida said.
MIKE: [Yoshida] Or maybe he's Bad Andy with Good Pizza. I dunno.
> "Just the
>fact that he's ruling a small country look bad. But he didn't really take
>it to extremes.
TOM: He only dropped a *small* starship on them.
> With the forces he has at his command, he could quite
>easily have taken over a good portion of this planet instead of just ruling
>an island nation. In my opinion he upheld the Prime Directive to the best
>of anyone's abilities."
CROW: [Yoshida] It's also my opinion that Saddam Hussein is just a little
grumpy. And that guppies are eating my toes.
> "I must disagree, Captain Yoshida," Captain T'Gwen Washington said.
> Washington was half Vulcan.
TOM: But all woman!
CROW: Oh, baby!
> To many this meant she was a female
>clone of Captain Spock. Washington wasn't.
TOM: What would a transgendered Leonard Nimoy look like?
MIKE: All I can think of is Janet Reno with pointed ears.
ALL: Ewwww!
> Her mother had been the
>Vulcan, and she had grown up on Earth. In fact her own mother had grown up
>on Earth.
MIKE: In fact, no one in her family was even *from* Vulcan.
CROW: Gwennie might be T'Pol's great-great-great-great-granddaughter.
TOM: Her skintight catsuit's been handed down from generation to generation.
> Still, logic and rules were almost a racial characteristic for
>the modern Vulcan, and like most half-Vulcans of her age, they were dear to
>her.
MIKE: And not just that it's easier to caricature than to characterize.
BOTS: Oh, no, of course not, no no, etc.
> "Please, explain," Picard asked.
> "The Prime Directive clearly forbids any interference with any
>primitive culture," Washington said, sitting stiffly in the most stiff and
>least padded chair in the room.
CROW: She was also wearing shoes with no arch support and flossing with
barbed wire.
TOM: Because it's logical to be as uncomfortable as possible.
> "As King, I do not see how you can state
>that he did not interfere with that culture. From the moment he took that
>post, he was in violation."
> "I say it's because he took that post that he's not," Yoshida said.
MIKE: And I say because he picked those apples he's a pear thief!
[pause]
CROW: What the Sam Hill does *that* mean, Nelson?
MIKE: Um, I was just trying to be, um, evocative.
TOM: Huh?
MIKE: You know, an - an analogy? Trying to - be - analogous?
CROW: Well don't try, okay? Just - just don't.
MIKE: [dejected] Sorry.
> "I fail to see how that could be."
TOM: No! Don't ask him to explain!
CROW: Yeah, because then he will!
> "Let's look at the facts," Yoshida said. "The Odyssey had crashed.
>It wasn't going anywhere,
ALL: [monotone] Like this story.
> and the ship couldn't be taken apart or
>destroyed.
CROW: Well, it *could* have. They were just short on metric crescent
wrenches.
> It had landed on the previous King and the entire Royal Family.
>If he hadn't taken over, his actions most likely would have resulted in
>civil war in the country. If he hadn't defended and remained around his
>former ship, it would have been taken over ..."
TOM: And if he hadn't crashed in the first place, none of it would matter.
> "Which I understand it was for a brief while just before Captain
>York was brought in," Washington said.
MIKE: Boy, picky-picky.
CROW: There's just no pleasing some Half-Vulcans.
> "It was, but they had almost twenty years to strip the ship of her
>higher technology.
CROW: All the coffee makers have been sold for spare parts
> They've done an admirable job of getting the ship
>stripped down,
[Tom does stripper music]
> and that's something that has taken many years, especially
>given how hard it is to dispose of it.
CROW: If they'd crashed in downtown LA, it woulda been stripped before they
could get the hatch open.
> I'm not sure it's even possible to
>get rid of the ship herself without causing an even greater interference."
> "So you admit that he interfered with the culture," Washington said.
> "In a small, limited manner
TOM: He only wiped out a *few* royal bloodlines.
> that did not make any lasting changes
>in the culture above that which a normal enlightened king of the era would
>have, T'Gwen," Yoshida said.
CROW: Mass destruction and megalomania? Never mind that, he founded the
Ellosian chapter of Ducks Unlimited!
> "Enlightened King?" Washington said. "Let me review for you what
>the other Kings on this planet have been doing.
TOM: All this and more on "Ellosia Tonight"! But first, a word from Dodge.
> The current King of Rogia
>killed three Earls by beheading with a dull knife.
CROW: Is that cruel, or just stupid?
MIKE: Why can't it be both?
> The Arch Duke of
>Grimall once killed seven lords in single combat.
CROW: And in mixed doubles with Gabriella Sabatini, they took out 28.
> These people are not
>ready for kindness and compassion."
TOM: They're not even o/` ready for some fooootbaaaaaall! o/`
> "Perhaps they are, and have gotten," Captain Picard interrupted.
>"Dinath's Queen, for instance acts very much like Captain York.
MIKE: [Picard] She's starting out small by dropping gliders on people,
but give her time.
> She deals
>rather than battles, and runs a quite fair court."
> "Perhaps," Washington said. "There is still the matter of the
>ship."
TOM: It's set aground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle.
> "The ship is a problem, but not one that Captain York could solve,"
>Yoshida said. "It's actually more of a long term problem than one of
>immediate nature.
CROW: Within moments, a Senate committee is formed to study it.
> As far as the current technology level of this world is
>concerned, they don't know how to construct anything remotely like it, and
>are centuries from being able to figure it out.
TOM: It's like the question of Wil Wheaton's career.
> As long as we get rid of
>some of the hardware that remains that Captain York couldn't,
MIKE: [Tim Allen] Like the Binford 4400 Power Saw! Arh arh arh!
> it won't be a
>factor in technological advances for quite some time."
> "Perhaps you are discounting the inspiration factor of such a
>structure," Washington said.
CROW: [eerie whisper] Wooorship the staaarship! Wooorship the staaarship!
> "It is the single largest structure on the
>planet."
> "Yes, and it no doubt will attract as many visitors some day as the
>Pyramids on Earth," Yoshida said.
TOM: Otherwise known as the U.S.S. Tomb of Ramses II.
> "The mystery of it's construction may
>take millennia to figure out.
MIKE: It's that sturdy vinyl siding that lasts for years!
> It will grow to be like the Pyramids, the
>Great Underwater Palace of Risa, and the Hall of Ancient Thought on Vulcan.
CROW: Trent Lott is from Vulcan?
>Important architectural mysteries of their time, but hardly a source of
>cultural advancement."
TOM: So the conspiracy theory wacko X-Files fans are right and the
pyramids *are* from aliens?
> "As long as we strip it throughly, we should have no problems with
>it's presence," Picard said.
MIKE: [Picard] So it's agreed: they keep the hull, we get the comfy sofas
and the booze.
> "Indeed, it's removal would cause more of a
>legend to grow up among the people of Ellosia than it's continued presence,
TOM: I hate to mention "it"...
CROW: Then don't.
TOM: But - he's doing the whole "it's"/"its" thing just to mess with my mind!
I know he is!
MIKE: Steady on, Tom. I'm sure its okay.
CROW: Yeah, give the story it's due.
[pause]
TOM: I hate you both.
>in my judgement. Captain Washington, how do you see the case?"
CROW: With maddening tunnel vision, apparently.
> "I find every violation of the Prime Directive to be a problem,
>however, that is not what we're here to decide," Washington said. "The
>question is did he have a choice in it. And to that question, I must
>regretfully say that he did not."
TOM: [Washington] Too bad. I haven't keelhauled anyone in months.
> "I agree with that," Picard said. "Captain Yoshida?" Yoshida
>nodded. "Then we will have to render a verdict of not guilty."
>
MIKE: [Picard] Otherwise, the author will make our lives hell.
> Marrissa sat in the center seat of the Enterprise-E. With her
>father, Riker, and Data involved in the trial, and La Forge still on the
>planet below, day-to-day command had fallen to her.
TOM: And by "fallen", he means "snatched hungrily".
> It was the first time
>she'd had to deal with the banalities and nuisances of command.
CROW: So she got bored and spaced the whole crew in their skivvies!
> Before
>she'd only gotten command briefly,
TOM: Which was like giving a tiger shark *one* sardine.
> and when she had command for a longer
>period, like during the Naklab Negotiation, Jay had handled day-to-day as
>her number one.
MIKE: Hey, where *is* the Future Mister Poster-Boy-For-Whipped-Hubbies?
CROW: If he's smart, he skipped town and joined the cast of "Charmed".
TOM: Yeah, but this is Jay we're talking about.
CROW: Oh. Well, he's probably chained up in Marrissa's rumpus room.
> For the past three days, she'd had to learn to prioritize
MIKE: [Marrissa] I can't worry about the Dominion invasion - there's a
printer out of toner on Deck 10!
>and what truly needed someone else's attention.
CROW: [Marrissa] Let's see... Clara, you feed all the tigers in the zoo,
take the hose and spray the flesh-eating space crabs off the hull,
settle the riot with the flamethrower manufacturers' union, and taste
test some blowfish. If you need me, I'll be on flower sniffing duty.
> Her eye caught an entry. Lieutenant Calgary hadn't returned from
>Ellosia yet.
ALL: D'OH!!!!!
CROW: Good thing she's LEARNED TO PRIORITIZE!
> How had she forgotten about him.
TOM: She'd dumped him for the Prince, then went into a snit when he
wouldn't leave Lady Goodbody.
CROW: Heck, even Picard forgot about Toronto.
MIKE: Picard was in the middle of a Prime Directive Trial! He'd forget
*Beverly* for that!
> Marrissa stood quickly.
CROW: [Marrissa] Whoa, vertigo.
>This was a job she'd have to handle personally.
MIKE: [Marrissa] This time, it's *personal*!
> She was the only one that
>had contacts where they were needed for this.
TOM: She'd get Big Joey's boys to take care of this Regina problem.
*Permanently!*
CROW: Calgary.
TOM: Whatever.
> "Computer, list senior
>officers available for command for the remainder of the day. Include only
>those qualified to be considered for day to day command."
ALL: And NO TROI!!!
> "Commander Beverly Picard, Lieutenant Savol, Lieutenant Luke ..."
TOM: Luke Perry?
MIKE: Luke Skywalker?
CROW: Luke Duke?
> "Stop.
CROW: Collaborate and listen!
> Marrissa to Admiral Picard."
> "Picard here."
> "Sorry to interrupt your deliberations, Dad,
MIKE: [Picard] Don't call me that on duty.
> but I'm going to have
>to hand off command for the remainder of the day to the Doctor."
CROW: [Doctor] Hello all! Just passing through! Would anyone like a
jelly baby?
> "You didn't interrupt, Marrissa," Jean-Luc's voice echoed. "We're
>just about to render our decision.
TOM: It's linguine with clam sauce tonight.
> What is so important that you have to
>leave the ship?"
MIKE: [Marrissa] I forgot to pick up some souvenirs. Who knows when we'll
be here again?
> "We forgot about Lieutenant Calgary," Marrissa explained, as she
>pulled up some duty rosters on her PADD.
TOM: Last time I saw him, he was in Alberta.
> "He was last seen right as Lord
>Henry's prisoner. He wasn't with those that they released from the
>Fasstime Ducal Residence."
> "Okay, call the Doctor to take command," Jean-Luc said.
MIKE: In fact, having Marrissa in the big chair proves you can give command
to anyone at all.
CROW: Well, except Deanna.
> "I'll send
>Clara and Shayna to meet you in transporter room five.
CROW: [Picard] Because having adults along would just bore you and cramp
your style.
TOM: [Marrissa] Yay! I finally got dad trained!
> You've got four
>hours until sunset. If you haven't found him by then,
MIKE: [Picard] ...then too bad for you! Bye now!
> I'll send Commander
>Riker down to help."
TOM: Oh, now he's making with the threats!
> "Aye sir. Marrissa out."
>
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack,
TOM: Percodan.
> heroin,
CROW: Airplane glue.
> whiskey,
MIKE: Peppermint Schnapps.
> tobacco.
TOM: Red Man chaw.
> Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
CROW: Wow guys! At this point, I'm glued to my seat!
TOM: Really?
CROW: Yeah, some jerk put gum in my chair.
MIKE: Try a little club soda.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-06!sn-xit-08!supernews.com!nntp2.aus1.giganews.com!
>nntp.giganews.com!ord2-feed1.news.algx.net!dfw3-feed1.news.algx.net!
>allegiance!
MIKE: I pledge allegiance to Marrissa, and to the Federation for which
she conquers.
> newsfeed.news2me.com!newsfeed2.earthlink.net!
>newsfeed.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!
>newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
CROW: You know, Steve's actually quite brave to keep putting his e-mail
address on these.
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 15/18 (Marrissa Stories)
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <7n7sruk2o3h51kurvq1dfh9odjfhp7e482@4ax.com>
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>Date: Tue, 29 Oct 2002 04:39:43 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.188.161.23
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
CROW: [Python] I'm sorry, this is abuse. Complaints are down the hall.
>X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1035866383 63.188.161.23
>(Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:39:43 PST)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:39:43 PST
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161583
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 15/18
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>Chapter Fourteen:
>The Cup of Salvation
>
MIKE: It's going to be the cup of a carpenter.
TOM: Karen?
MIKE: What?
> Lieutenant Calgary stared up at the ceiling from where he had been
>moved.
MIKE: He was still trying to figure out how the stain had got way up there.
> He was tied up in the loft of the Sanctuary of the Cloister of the
>Overflowing Cup. Not that they really needed to tie him up.
TOM: But he enjoyed it so much.
> After three
>days on the rack his arms and legs were all out of joint.
MIKE: Out of joint? Calgary's gonna be lucky if he can ever lift a
tricorder again!
> He had never in
>his life lived with so much pain.
CROW: Except for the time he sat through "Pluto Nash".
> His voice was long gone from screaming,
>leaving his pain to only be expressed though silent sobs and pain-filled
>grimaces.
MIKE: Well, now he's at least as good an actor as Keanu Reeves.
> He'd been moved here three days ago. It was a quite place, and he
>was pretty much left alone to his pain, being hand fed by a nun three times
>a day.
>
CROW: Sister Mary De Sade.
> Marrissa had left her communicator on her sailor's outfit when she
>left the Stargazer. It was a mistake.
TOM: Chalk it up to a lazy animator and a director who wasn't paying much
attention to continuity.
> She was fortunate that she was only
>in the presence of those that knew her position, Avery, Harlan, and
>Brittany when it went off. She excused herself promptly, and answered the
>call.
MIKE: [Marrissa] For the last time, I'm *not* switching my communicator
service to Sprint!!
> "Marrissa to Enterprise."
> "Enterprise, this is Commander Picard," Beverly said. "We've
>located Lieutenant Calgary."
CROW: They disarmed him and he got his nose out of joint, but they were
just pulling his leg.
> "Where is he?" Marrissa asked.
> "The Cloister of the Overflowing Cup," Beverly replied. "His
>lifesigns indicate a major injury of some sort."
MIKE: [Beverly] We won't tell you what kind. Try to guess which one! I
think you'll be pleasantly surprised!
> "Thank you, Doctor," Marrissa said. "I'll be trying to rescue him
>shortly. Marrissa out."
> "The Cloister," Harlan commented from behind Marrissa. "I don't
>believe we've checked that yet."
TOM: [Harlan] The nuns just don't respond to my SupaPlaya moves.
> Marrissa jumped at the sound of Harlan's deep voice.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Aaah, the Ghost of Orson Welles!
> "Don't scare
>me like that," she said,
TOM: [Harlan] Well how *should* I scare you, then?
> turning to discover that she hadn't quite gotten
>away from the Royals and their advisor.
CROW: She started her pitching career in Kansas City.
> "You weren't supposed to overhear my communication," Marrissa
>stated.
> "Don't worry, Marrissa, we won't tell," Brittany said.
MIKE: [Brittany] As long as you give me your lunch money and do all my
math homework tonight!
> "Yes. Care to join us on our assault on the Cloister?" Avery said.
CROW: [Avery] Those nuns always *were* on thin ice with me. Now it's
payback time!
>"I'm tired of sitting around listening to people plead for their lives."
CROW: He doesn't know Marrissa very well, does he?
TOM: She's got the "People Pleading for their Lives" station programmed
first on her XM radio.
> "It's better than signing forms on the Enterprise," Marrissa said.
>
MIKE: Death before Carpal Tunnel Syndrome!
> Captain Richard York could practically hear Chopin's Funeral March
>as he entered the courtroom.
TOM: [whispering] I hear dead people's music!
> He rose as the young officer who had been
>serving as bailiff announced, "All rise for the honorable Captains Picard,
>Washington, and Yoshida."
MIKE: [Picard] Hey! I'm a frigging *Admiral* now, you little punk!
> As they entered, Richard examined each of them.
TOM: [York] Turn your head and cough. Turn your head and cough. Turn
your - oops! Sorry, Gwen.
> Captain Yoshida
>appeared to be smiling... he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
CROW: They say he always smiles just before he disembowels his victims.
> Both
>Captains Picard and Washington had a studied neutral expression. "Please
>be seated," Picard said, as he sat behind the bench.
TOM: They've got him on the 30-day disabled list.
> "Captain Richard York, commanding officer of the USS Odyssey, this
>court-martial stands ready to render its decision," Picard said. "Do you
>have any words before we do so?"
MIKE: [York] Several, actually, but since this thing's already teetering on
the verge of NC-17ness, let's just skip 'em for now.
> Richard shook his head.
> "Very well. The court finds that though you did violate the letter
>of the law,
TOM: The law is bought to you today by the letters "S" and "R", and by the
number "18".
> you did so only because there was no other choice. We find
>that despite trying circumstances, you did maintain the sprit of the Prime
>Directive to the best of your ability.
CROW: [scoff] If he'd tried any harder to uphold the prime directive, he'd
be running the whole farging planet!
> Therefore, it is the decision of
>this court that you are not guilty of the charges filed against you."
MIKE: [Picard] And we also name you the Amway Salesman of the Year!
TOM: Soon, starship captains all over were plowing their ships into
yahoo backwater planets and seizing their crowns.
> Captain York released a deep breath that he had not been aware of
>holding.
TOM: [York] *gaaaaaaaaaaaaah* Gotta remember to exhale more often!
> "Thank you, Captains," he said.
CROW: So that's it? He's just going to let him off like that? Not even
suspension or anything like that?
MIKE: They were gonna give him 60 days' desk duty, but figured it would
just be superfluous.
> "There is no need," Picard said. "Court is adjourned. Captain
>York, I will meet you tomorrow morning so we may talk about your future
>assignments."
>
MIKE: [Picard] Seems the Iotians aren't coming through with their regular
"piece of the action". Go drop a ship on Vic Tayback.
TOM: You know, given how lax Starfleet is on the whole obeying the Prime
Directive thing, it's a wonder they don't just do away with it
altogether.
> Calgary laid back in pain. It had taken all of his will power to
>activate his beacon.
TOM: So why didn't he do that earlier?
CROW: He had his hands full at the time... oops, sorry.
> Now he had to hope and wait. Drifting up from the
>Sanctuary below, he could hear the words of Communion, bread and wine.
>"Receive the Body of Christ" "Amen." "Receive the Cup of Salvation."
>"Amen." It echoed throughout the loft, over and over again, some how
>comforting him.
TOM: Okay, one more time, does someone wanna explain to me how this is
occurring in a COMPLETELY ALIEN CULTURE?!?
MIKE: I think it has something to do with the Preserver guys they were
talking about earlier.
TOM: So one line of explanation is all we get out of a tax-code sized
story? Thanks for clearing this all up, Stevie!
> Suddenly the Mass was interrupted by the sounds of the heavy wooden
>door from the narthex being thrown open.
CROW: Action Pope! In color!
> It was followed by the sound of
>armed men, entering the room.
>
ALL: Hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup, hup.
> Marrissa and Avery were at the lead of the two score sized force
>that Avery had rounded up, as the Prince threw open the door to the
>Sanctuary. Apparently they'd arrived late for Evening Mass.
MIKE: [Avery] Phooey! We missed the Eucharistic prayer! If you come this
late, there's no point coming at all. Pack it up boys, we're gonna
have to catch Last Chance Mass at the Newman Center.
> The Presiding Priest looked up from where he was distributing
>communion. Handing the eucharistic bread to his novice altar server he
>proceeded down the aisle, his voice booming.
CROW: It's Monsignor James Earl Jones.
> "How dare you violate this
>holy sanctuary with your drawn swords."
> Marrissa sheaved her sword,
CROW: In the bale of hay she carried for just such an occasion.
TOM: Boy, talk about finding a needle in a haystack.
> and kneeled, doing the sign of the
>cross, while her male companions stood there, swords still drawn.
MIKE: You'd think that at some point someone would have pointed out that
what they were planning to break into was a CHURCH!!!
> "I beg
>your pardon, holy father, but I seek one of my fellow sailors
CROW: Little guy, big forearms, smells like moldy spinach...
> of whom I've
>received word that he has received succor for his injuries within these
>walls."
TOM: At the mention of "within the walls", Father Montresor gave her a
very strange look.
> "We have such a sailor, who has been treated quite badly by some
>unwanted guests within this sanctuary," the priest said. "Sister Catherine
>can take you to him.
CROW: Hey, it's Sister Mary Fish Eye No Miko.
TOM: Formerly known as Sister Mary TCurryfan.
MIKE: You two just can't stop picking at that fourth wall, can you?
> And what brings you to the Cloister, Prince?"
CROW: [Avery] A rinnebeast, your holiness.
> "Monsignor, I heard of your unwanted guests and thought to protect
>my friend here, and offer my assistance in ridding your holy ground of
>them," Avery said, sheaving his own sword.
TOM: [Priest] Well, thanks all the same, but Max Von Sydow is on his way
over and he should be able to handle it.
> "I assume that the condemned
>former Lord Henry of Fasstime is here, and has not sought formal
>sanctuary?"
MIKE: Friday is "Casual Sanctuary Day" at the cathedral.
> "He is, and has not. In fact he holds the Patriarch hostage in our
>contemplation tower."
CROW: Which kind of begs the question why he hasn't just gone back home.
MIKE: Well, why run back to your protected castle or ask a holy man for
sanctuary when you can just take a bunch of hostages?
> "We've got to get him out of there," Avery said. "It's way too
>defensible. "
> At that the soliders parted
CROW: Becoming liquider.
> to reveal a nearly breathless Princess
>Brittany. She was dressed in her squire's outfit,
TOM: The outfit with the huge snake was just way too cumbersome.
> as was her recent
>custom. "Finally caught up with us Brit?"
> "I couldn't find my rinnebeast," Brittany said.
MIKE: [Avery] Locked your keys in the lizard again, huh?
TOM: [Brittany] Shut up!
> "What's this about
>Lord Henry being holed up here?"
CROW: [Avery] He's holed up in the tower.
TOM: [Brit] Oh. Not quite as complex as I thought.
> "He's in the contemplation tower with the patriarch," Avery said.
MIKE: Contemplation tower?
CROW: Yeah, it makes them contemplate why they needed a tower to begin with.
>"I'm thinking of challenging him to single combat."
CROW: One game of Uno, winner take all!
> "No, Avery, you can't," Brittany said. "You're too important to do
>it. He could kill you."
TOM: [Brittany] And that would leave me the heir appar- hey, wait! No,
just go ahead and challenge. Here, use my lucky Wiffle Sword.
> "I've learnt a few tips since you left for Arm," Avery said. "Who
>should we have deliver the challenge?"
MIKE: Ellosian Express! For when you absolutely, positively have to kill
a traitorous noble overnight!
> "I will," Brittany said.
> "You can't," Avery said. "You're too valuable."
CROW: [Avery] There has to be someone here who isn't valuable.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Hey, why are you all looking at me?!
> "In my guise as Squire Brett, he'll never know it was me," Brittany
>said.
> "No, Brittany," Avery said. "He might take whoever we send as an
>additional hostage. The Patriarch is enough.
TOM: He doesn't *deserve* another hostage!
> You were one of his
>objectives. He wanted to marry you in order to secure his succession to
>the throne after he killed Father and I."
CROW: [Brit] Oh, how sweet of Snookums. I mean, how dare he! The scoundrel!
> "All the more reason why you shouldn't be fighting him," Brittany
>said.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Um... guys, you *are* aware you just blurted out Brittany's
secret identity to everyone in this church?
CROW: Meanwhile, as these two bicker and whine, Marrissa slips up the stairs
and quietly eviscerates the guy.
> "It's the only way we'll be able to get the Patriarch out safely,"
>Avery said.
MIKE: Ben Cartwright *must* be rescued!
> "Captain, find me a squire or page to deliver my challenge.
TOM: [Avery] Preferably someone not too valuable.
>We'll give him free passage if he gets me to yield. Brittany, we need to
>talk alone."
>
CROW: [Brittany] No way!
MIKE: [Avery] Look, just go out with him once, see if you like him.
> Captain Richard York's boat drew up aside the Royal dock. He'd
>missed the salt tang of the seaside air. Quickly he climbed up the side,
>taking a big breath of it
CROW: And retching loudly as the odor of rotting fish hit his gut.
> as he reached the top. His Chief of Intelligence
>met him.
> "Good afternoon, Lord Harlan," Richard said, putting his hand on
>his back.
TOM: Boy, the queen's not dead a week and he's already getting fresh.
> "Good afternoon, your majesty," Harlan replied. "May I assume that
>you were acquitted?"
CROW: Remember, if you assume he's acquitted you make an ass of u and
acquitted.
> "You may, Harlan," Richard said. "Admiral Picard will be down
>tomorrow to discuss further assignments and situations. Meanwhile,
MIKE: [announcer] ...back at the Batcave, Batman had just hit upon a
vital clue.
CROW: [Batman] Robin! Who do we know that could train a pigeon to poop
on the Batmobile at will?
>where are my children?"
TOM: [Bela] Come to me, my children! Ah-hah-hah-hah!
> "They left to confront Lord Henry with a company of the Palace
>guard about thirty minutes ago," Harlan said. "Lieutenant Picard had
>reason to believe that Lord Henry was at the Cloister of the Overflowing
>Cup.
TOM: They're bringing in Pamela Anderson for questioning.
> Or rather, one of the Enterprise's officers was, and had been
>captured by Lord Henry."
MIKE: [King] *sigh* They let New Brunswick wander off again, huh?
> "Have my rinnebeast waiting at the stables," Richard said. "I have
>to make sure that Avery isn't doing something foolish."
CROW: [Harlan] Uh, sire, this *is* Avery we're talking about.
MIKE: [King] Right, right. Have the police, fire department, hospital,
and morgue put on full red alert.
> "Why would he be doing something foolish," Harlan said.
CROW: He's with Marrissa, ain't he?
> "Avery wrote that he wanted to kill Lord Henry personally a couple
>days ago," Richard said,
TOM: [King] I told him, *I* wanted to do it! Durn kids!
> beginning to rush down toward the stables, only
>slightly slower than the page that had rushed off to have the King's
>rinnebeast saddled.
>
CROW: [Page] Too slow, old man! Woooo!
> Lord Henry sauntered out into the courtyard, the Patriarch being
>dragged before him with a knife at his neck.
TOM: Oh please! Knife necklaces are so over - he should have a brass
knuckle choker!
> He wore a thick leather
>doublet dyed the pale blue and green of his house. His head was covered
>with a contoured to his head metal helmet.
MIKE: Just a typical day at the Osbourne household.
> Prince Avery was already there, waiting. He had the advantage in
>armor, but only because his helmet was peaked.
CROW: And after that last night with Hayley, he -
MIKE: You're just actively trying to get us all to get in trouble now,
aren't you?
CROW: Oh, like that's wrong or something?! Boy, Mike, you can be so
judgmental! Sheesh!
> His doublet was a deep
>blue, with a slight tint towards purple in the light. Avery had already
>drawn his sword,
TOM: And been accepted at the New Jersey Art Institute.
> which flashed along it's silver colored length as Avery's
>hand twitched nervously.
> At Avery's side was his sister, functioning as her brother's
>squire, in her disguised form.
MIKE: When she put on those glasses and combed up her spitcurl, no one
suspected mild-mannered Squire Kent was actually SUPERPRINCESS!
> She was bent over in front of him, making
>sure the laces of her brother's shoes where tight and tied.
TOM: [Avery] Ha! Let's see him try to get me with that "Your shoe's untied"
gag *now*!
> "Remember what
>I told you about his, style, Avery," Brittany said.
MIKE: [Brittany] Pink with little blue bears.
> "I know," Avery said, looking at Lord Henry's bulky form. "Lord
>Henry."
TOM: He's a steel-driving noble!
> "Avery of York," Lord Henry responded. "I have come to your
>challenge."
CROW: [Henry] I *will* break your puny record for Eating the Most Hot Dogs
at one sitting!
> "Monsignor Samuel will read the agreement," Avery said.
> "Avery, Prince of Ellosia, and Heir to the Throne challenges Lord
>Henry, Hier to the Dukedom of Fasstime
TOM: Played by Judge Reinhold.
> to single combat on order to free
>the Patriarch of Ellosia and others from his custody," Monsignor Samuel
>said. "Should Lord Henry win, he shall be granted free passage to a ship
>and out of the country.
MIKE: [announcer] Plus this lovely set of genuine Samsonite luggage!
BOTS: Oooooh!
> Should Prince Avery win, Lord Henry will surrender
>himself and all hostages. The duel shall be conducted with broad swords
CROW: But Henry cheated and used a guy sword instead.
>and shall continue to either yielding or one combatant is unable to
>continue. Lord Henry, do you accept the terms and conditions?"
TOM: If so, click "Yes" to continue.
> "I do," Lord Henry said, striding to the middle of the courtyard.
> "Prince Avery, do you accept the terms and conditions?" Monsignor
>Samuel asked.
> "I do," Avery said,
CROW: [Monsignor] I now pronounce you dolt and jerk. You may slay each
other - horribly, for all I care.
> joining Lord Henry at the center of the court
>yard, with his back to the well.
> "Very well, gentlemen," Monsignor Samuel said. "Raise your swords
>and begin on my mark."
ALL: MORTAL KOMBAT!!
>Avery and Henry raised their swords and stared into each other's eyes,
[Tom whistles theme from "The Good, the Bad & the Ugly"]
>hoping for a hint as to how they were going to fight. The sun
>disappeared behind the clouds as Monsignor Samuel raised his arms
>
MIKE: Wow. Now *that's* problem BO.
>
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
CROW: That's my favorite species of wolf, by the way.
MIKE: Thanks for sharing.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-05!sn-xit-01!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!
>newsfeed.news2me.com!newsfeed2.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 16/18 (Marrissa Stories)
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <lp7srus6ka5c9nuavshkvj2uncjo1bif73@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
MIKE: That was 7 of 9's original designation, until they, uh, rounded
her off. So to speak.
>MIME-Version: 1.0
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>Date: Tue, 29 Oct 2002 04:41:08 GMT
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>(Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:41:08 PST)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:41:08 PST
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161579
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 16/18
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: So would that make him Captain or King?
MIKE: Yes.
>Chapter Fifteen:
>Through our Hope and Despair
>
> The deep gold rinnebeast was quite accustom to the King's rushing
>through the streets of Odyssey.
MIKE: However, it wasn't accustomed to him doing so naked.
> The strong legs of the lizard easily
>propelled the King around the corner and through the alley
TOM: And over the river and through the woods...
> and he sought
>the quickest route to the Cloister of the Overflowing Cup.
CROW: Too bad he missed the I-44 cutoff.
> The dull grey walls of the Cloister quickly came into view, next to
>the higher cream colored walls of the City. A detachment of Royal Guards
>stood out front of the main entrance, and they parted as the King's
>distinctive beast road up to the door.
TOM: [Guard] Hope he doesn't plow his lizard into the crowd again.
> A solider grabbed the King's rinnebeast's reigns as the King came
>to a stop in front of the main gate. "Where is my son?" the King asked.
> "He's in the central courtyard engaged in a duel with Lord Henry,"
>the solider said,
MIKE: [Guard] Yeah, I was gonna protect him, but I got busy. Sorry.
> barely finishing the sentence before the King had
>dismounted and rushed into the Cloister.
>
> Clang.
CROW: Clang! Clang! Went the Trolley!
> Clash.
MIKE: o/` Shout weeee don't like it - Rock Ellosia! Rock Ellosia! o/`
> Shing.
TOM: Shing, dammit, SHING!
> Brittany watched her brother fight Lord
>Henry. Avery was darting around the courtyard,
MIKE: Looking for a convenient hole to hide in.
> so far unable to get inside
>Lord Henry's guard. It was clear that Lord Henry was putting lots of power
>behind each of his blows, as most of them were tilting Avery's sword as
>they impacted.
TOM: Isn't a sword *supposed* to tilt when you duel?
> It was a battle of brawn and age verses
CROW: Yes, the book of Ratliff, Chapter 16, verses 5 through 11.
> speed and youth. Brittany
>had watched many fights with that match during her training as a squire.
MIKE: With her good friends Ariel and Ookla the Mok.
>In fact, most of her training sparring had been that way, as her tutors in
>the sword had advanced her beyond the level of most of her fellow squires.
TOM: All the big sixth grade girls picked on her after she got moved up
straight from 3rd grade.
>If Avery could survive the first ten minutes or so of Lord Henry's hard
>pressed attack, and keep moving without getting hit -
MIKE: Then he would need to survive the *next* ten minutes. Good plan.
> Behind her, Brittany heard her father approaching. Quickly she
>turned, and headed to intercept her father.
TOM: Good thing he can't pass worth a dang inside the red zone.
> A bellowing mad father would
>not help her brother win this fight.
>
CROW: Yeah, no one needs two-to-one odds in their favor.
> Above the sanctuary in the choir loft, Marrissa found Lieutenant
>Calgary.
MIKE: I thought he was under a rock in Canada.
CROW: Right now I wish I was.
> He was laying out on his back, arms limply at his side. His pain
>filled eyes were focused on the star studded ceiling above, as he almost
>silently whispered.
TOM: [Calgary, whispering] The clowns - the clowns are coming to get me.
> Marrissa was almost within reach when she heard what he was
>whispering. "Saint Perpetua and Saint Felicity..."
MIKE: He's asking for the latest Joan Osborne album?
> Marrissa supposed
>that the Litany of the Saints was something that could keep one's mind
>off pain,
CROW: So remember, if you ever have *your* limbs cruelly ripped from their
sockets, reciting random lists of facts will relieve the excruciating
pain!
> but had no idea that Calgary knew it.
TOM: Or that *anyone* would, for that matter.
MIKE: Well, be fair - it's not like there seems to be any religion left
in the 24th century.
CROW: Unless you're Bajoran.
> She lightly touched him
>to get Calgary's attention.
TOM: Bad touch.
> "Lieutenant, we're going to get you out of here," Marrissa said
>softly, motioning to two sailors who had accompanied her with a streacher.
CROW: A stretched bleacher?
>"Gentlemen, be very careful. We've got a carriage out front to take him to
>the harbor."
> "Angels..." Calgary whispered
TOM: [Calgary] Finally won the Series! I see Gene Autry smiling!
> "I think the pain has made him delusional," Marrissa commented, as
>Calgary was carried out of the room.
>
> Avery dodged another of Lord Henry's hard strikes.
MIKE: The Taft-Hartley act was doing its job.
> King Richard
>could tell that Lord Henry put lots of power behind each of his strikes.
>So far, Avery hadn't been able to do more than dodge.
TOM: But he was saving up to get a Chrysler.
> Another strike, and
>Avery spun out of it, allowing Lord Henry's sword to pass him by.
MIKE: Pass by. Pierce him through the heart. Same thing, really.
> At least that had been the intention. However, Lord Henry reversed
>the stroke, and caught Avery on his back, just above the bottom of his
>ribs.
CROW: o/` Henry's Princely-Back Ribs! o/`
TOM: [Basso] o/` Barbecue sauce o/`
> The cut was not big, as Avery had already been spinning away from
>him, but it was first blood to Lord Henry.
MIKE: Sylvester Stallone *IS* Lord Henry *IN* "Ellosia: First Blood, Act II"!
> King Richard let out a gasp at the appearance of blood on his son's
>tunic, but his son did not seem to be affected by it.
TOM: Okay, so first he won't lift a finger to save his dying wife, and now
he's just gonna sit back and let his kid get disemboweled by some
asshat traitor! What kind of king *is* this guy?!?
CROW: Richard is a low-key, hands-off kind of monarch.
> With a quick turn,
>Avery parried Lord Henry's latest thrust, letting the sword go by as he
>turned.
MIKE: Because that move worked so well just now.
> Clang.
TOM: Oops. The plot just hit bottom.
> The sword hit the well in the middle of the court yard.
>With another clash,
CROW: We miss you, Joe. <sniff>
> Henry and Avery were engaged in battle again.
>
TOM: [Avery, grunting] Unh! Will you- ah- be my- oof- wife?
CROW: [Henry, ditto] He- gaah- asked me! Err! He- oh- asked me!
> As soon as Calgary was taken out of view, down into the cabins
>under the quarterdeck, the transporter chief locked on. He materialized in
>the transporter room
CROW: Wasn't he already there?
TOM: Who?
CROW: He.
TOM: "He"? "He" Who?
CROW: Huh?
TOM: Which he?
CROW: He who was there - was he there?
TOM: What?
CROW: Huh?
MIKE: Guys? The Ratliff story is now officially *less* irritating than
you two.
> along with the two men carrying the improvised
>stretcher,
CROW: [Clive] A thousand points to Josie for singing so beautifully,
and one point to Greg because that's all he deserves.
> and Marrissa.
TOM: It'd probably go better if they didn't have to carry Marrissa too.
CROW: Privileges of rank, don't ya know.
> "Chief, beam Calgary to Sickbay," Marrissa ordered, stepping off
>the platform.
MIKE: [Chief] "Clumsy" Calgary did it again, huh?
> "Aye sir," the transport chief said, as Marrissa turned to the
>other person waiting in the room.
CROW: Hey wait a minute, couldn't they have just beamed him directly
to Sickbay? Jeez, do I gotta think of everything around here?
> "Ready to take back command for a while?" Jean-Luc Picard said.
TOM: Then Marrissa and Jean-Luc had a good laugh at the absurd question.
> "I can, but shouldn't Riker and Data do that since the trial is
>over?" Marrissa asked.
MIKE: Or couldn't Picard do it?
CROW: He's too busy rehearsing for his one-man all-Klingon presentation
of "A Christmas Carol".
> "I do have homework to do."
MIKE: Thus the inherent dichotomy at last is made clear.
> "Commander Riker has already left for the surface," Jean-Luc said.
>"He and Counselor Troi are taking some of their accumulated leave.
CROW: It's the kind of leave that doesn't involve clothes.
>Data's cat is sick.
[All laugh]
CROW: And what a well thought-out reason that is.
MIKE: "Dear Captain Picard. Data's cat is sick, and he needs to be excused
from command activities today. Signed, Data's mother."
TOM: He's been granted leave under Starfleet's "Annoying Whiny Android"
program.
> If you're really worried about your homework, you can do it
>in the ready room. We just really need someone on standby."
TOM: [Paul Harvey] For NEWS!!
> "Data's cat is sick?" Marrissa asked.
TOM: See?! Even *Marrissa* can't believe it!
MIKE: We can laugh, but Picard bought it.
> "Yes, and he's activated his emotion chip," Jean-Luc said. "I'd
>stay away from his quarters and Sickbay.
MIKE: [Picard] He keeps hitting on Nurse Ogawa, then crying himself to
sleep when she turns him down.
> How are events progressing in
>Odyssey?"
TOM: The two guys are locked out, and the "Blue Danube Waltz" is cranked up.
> "The heir to the throne is fighting Lord Henry at the Cloister of
>the Overflowing Cup," Marrissa said. "I expect that King Richard is either
>there or on his way.
CROW: [Marrissa] He said something about getting turned into a hawk, though
so he might be a tad late.
> We found Lieutenant Calgary in the loft of the
>Sanctuary there."
CROW: Do these people do anything besides updates?
> "The Cloister is on the West side of Odyssey next to the Arm
>Gates?" Jean-Luc inquired, stepping towards the platform.
MIKE: It's Stephen Ratliff's Jean-Luc Picard's "West Side Next to
the Arm Gates Story"!
TOM: o/` Ellosia - I just grabbed the crown in Ellosia. o/`
> "Yes, it's rather hard to miss," Marrissa said,
TOM: [Marrissa] Unless you're an idiot.
> as her father stood
>on the platform.
> "You have the ship, Marrissa," Jean-Luc said. "I'll check your
>homework when I get back.
TOM: [Marrissa] But daaad...
CROW: [Picard] No buts. The old math was good enough for me, it's good
enough for you too.
> Chief, energize."
>
> Lord Henry's tunic was soaked as he continued to engage the younger
>and still going strong Prince.
CROW: Gyah! Even when he doesn't mean, to, Ratliff's prose is turning
turgidly provocative!
> "Lord Henry is getting tired, isn't he,"
>Brittany pointed out to her father.
MIKE: Well, so are we.
TOM: Yeah, if we have to suck it up, he's got to, too!
> "Lord Henry has too much weight," King Richard opinioned
MIKE: Aah, he's King Richard *Simmons*.
CROW: [Richard Simmons] C'mon, girls, put those hips and thighs into your
swordplay! Melt the pounds off while you skewer your opponent!
> as Lord
>Henry continued to deliver blows to Avery's sword. "It's good for putting
>power behind the blows, but that doesn't help when your opponent is moving
>like Avery does.
TOM: Like a spastic ostrich wearing lead boots.
> He gives and changes Henry's approach too much."
MIKE: Well why don't YOU do it then, Mister Smart-Guy-Pants?!?
> Some quick foot work by Avery pulled him out of Lord Henry's attack
>for a moment, nearly getting behind Lord Henry's guard.
CROW: Sloppy mistakes like that won't get Lord Henry to the NBA finals.
> "I've got to spar
>with Avery some time," Brittany said, wincing as Lord Henry barely missed
>her bother
TOM: [Pooh] Oh, bother!
> in the follow up. "It looks like he's improved since I left for
>Arm."
MIKE: [Brittany] At the very least, he's no longer throwing his sword down
and sprinting off with a high-pitched shriek.
> "It's the endurance that is helping him, not the hour he spends on
>most days practicing," the King said,
CROW: Well then, why bother practicing?! Geesh!
MIKE: The king is practicing the ancient art of parent fu.
> smiling as his son went on the
>offensive, actually causing Lord Henry to back up.
TOM: Wow! Lord Henry got back!
> "He usually takes a
>ride out to the fields near Bluepor every morning, then after putting his
>rinnebeast in the stables takes a jog the long way to breakfast.
CROW: Because the only thing more obnoxious than a snotty, pampered royal
brat is a *sweaty*, snotty, pampered royal brat.
> I'm
>pretty sure he goes around the outer edge of at least two decks. Oh, that's
>got to hurt."
MIKE: It's the Royal Edition of "Sportscenter".
> Avery's offensive had paid off with a deep cut on Lord Henry's
>non-sword arm.
TOM: Aquaman, no!
> Though it was starting to bleed rather bad, Lord Henry
>still fought on, with a renewed offensive, though his sword was a little
>lower the before.
>
CROW: [Henry] Gaah! He cut the arm that I don't have my sword in! Now the
arm I have my sword in hurts! How did he find out my weakness?
> Captain Jean-Luc Picard strolled through the streets of Odyssey
>searching for the Cloister of the Overflowing Cup and King Richard.
MIKE: And he was going to check every bar and strip club in town to find
it if he had to!
>He'd heard the story of the Cloister's origin in a miracle, a cup of
>blessed wine that never ran out.
CROW: Ahh, big deal! O'Leary's Pub has a Bottomless Cup of Blessed Wine
and All-You-Can-Eat Chicken Strip Basket for $4.99 every Friday.
TOM: Isn't "Cloister" a Pokemon?
MIKE: Probably.
> It did not seem likely to Jean-Luc, but Marrissa
>had found the story to be fascinating, telling him all about the miracle
>and the Cloister that grew up around it.
TOM: Soon, Picard was fast asleep.
> The Cloister had originally been for that of contemplative order,
>who still resided in a section of the buildings. However one day, after a
>great storm, the abbot at the time
CROW: HEEEEEY ABBOOOOOOOOOTT!!!
> had offered the use of the Cloister's
>Sanctuary for first communion. However the wine supply had been low, and
>the abbot considered forgoing the wine for the girls among them.
TOM: Abbott Smooth makes his move, heh heh heh.
> So the
>girls were lined up last. When the girls came, the cup was still full,
>when the girls were done, the cup started to overflow.
MIKE: There's enough symbolism in that last sentence to put a dozen psych
majors through grad school.
> That night, reflecting over the day, the abbot decided to start the
>first school in the kingdom for girls of all classes.
TOM: I once knew an ab bot. Annoying chap - kept flexing all his
overdeveloped processors trying to impress all the femdroids.
CROW: That's nothing, I once met an AbFabBot - all it did was chain smoke
and obsess about LaCroix armor plates.
> Not many nobles had
>ever attended. In fact, Princess Brittany had been the first member of the
>Royal family to even occasionally attend the classes.
TOM: The rest of 'em had been content being drooling idiots.
> Every year since,
>the monks took in at least two-dozen girls for the five-year program of
>reading, writing, and arithmetic.
MIKE: [Redneck] Wow! Them gurls gets a fith-grade edgy-cashun!
> With the glowing terms that Marrissa had talked about it will
>reading the planetary briefing,
TOM: Hah! Marrissa makes Riker do her homework for her!
> Jean-Luc had expected a large and stately
>building.
CROW: If it's Wayne Manor, I'm leaving now.
> Not a somewhat dilapidated collection of gray stone buildings.
>Nor did he even think to start looking on the very edge of the city. After
>all, this was a center of learning.
MIKE: Let Parliament prorate the education budget enough times and this is
what happens.
> Though in reflection, Jean-Luc thought
>as he walked up to knock on the main door, cloisters were not generally the
>best looking buildings in town.
> A tired monk answered the door.
CROW: Tony Shaloub's been up all night, obsessively straightening the nunnery.
> "I'm looking for King Richard,"
>Jean-Luc said. The monk gestured outwardly.
TOM: Because gesturing inwardly would be physically unlikely, not to
mention quite painful.
> "He's already left?" The
>monk nodded.
>
TOM: And yet another scene ends with a tense, dramatic climax. Sometimes.
However, this scene contained neither tension, nor drama. It might
have a climax, depending on how much of whatever you've taken.
> The cut on Lord Henry's arm and his increasing fatigue were taking
>it's toll.
CROW: Seventy-five cents per mile.
> His sword wasn't quite as high in it's attacks. Avery had
>slowed to match Henry, now it was time to pushing that to his advantage.
TOM: So he got even slower.
>With a hard swipe high, he moved in as Lord Henry reached to block high. A
>second strike, lower caught Lord Henry right behind his wrist, cutting to
>the bone.
MIKE: Say, how long has this battle scene gone on?
CROW: At least a chapter or two, I think.
MIKE: Wow. That's impressive - Stevie's Starship battle usually don't
last more than a paragraph or two.
TOM: Say what you will - Ratliff likes his extremes.
> As Lord Henry's sword began to fall, Avery reversed his stroke,
>digging a wide cut from Henry's right breast up to his neck, where it ended
>in a spurt of blood. Avery backed off and let Lord Henry fall to the
>ground.
TOM: There being no place else to fall.
CROW: I love a good action scene! I wish we were watching one now.
> For a moment Avery watched Lord Henry on the ground, as the last
>convulsions of life left him. He kept his bloodstained sword at the ready
>for several minutes before lowering it and breaking eye contact with his
>foe.
CROW: So apparently, the Ellosians haven't quite hit on the concept of
"Call 9-1-1" yet.
> With a deep breath he turned where he knew his sister was waiting.
TOM: [Avery] You're next, ya little brat!
> Standing beside his sister was his father with the biggest grin
>he'd ever seen. "You're back!" Avery exclaimed, dropping his sword and
>rushing over to his father, the King.
MIKE: Who quickly gutted him with a swipe from his short sword.
TOM: [King] *Never* let your guard down, kid!
> "Good job, Avery," the King said as he embraced his son. "I was a
>little worried at first, but you did quite well.
CROW: [King] I woulda rushed in and saved you, but y'know - prime directive
and all that.
> I didn't even see that
>final move coming."
> "I was slowing down to match Lord Henry's speed. Then I sped up
>suddenly and he wasn't ready," Avery said, standing back to look at his
>father. "Are you back for god now?"
MIKE: [King] Yeah, I'm giving Him a lift to the Pearly Gates. You
wanna go with?
> "Yes, Avery, I am," the King said, placing his arm around his son
>and daughter. "I'll have a little more to do, but you've shown me that I
>can delegate more to you.
TOM: [King] Job's all yours. I'm taking Duchesses Viki and Niki and
heading for the beach! Ciao, kid!
> Now, I've heard from various sources that the
>meat pie at the Golden Rinnebeast is fit for a King. Let's go test that."
MIKE: Okay guys, remember: Golden Rinnebeast Meat Pies = Good. Got it?
CROW: Wait, I'm confused. Meat pies at the Golden Rinnebeast are...?
MIKE: Good.
CROW: Oh! I get it now!
>
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
TOM: You know, when I die, I think I'm going to have that as my epitaph.
MIKE: What, Greywolf's quote?
TOM: No, this entire story.
MIKE: That's it. I'm not paying for your tombstone.
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-06!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!newsfeed.news2me.com!
>newsfeed2.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 17/18 (Marrissa Stories)
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <bs7srusvp1aahdk88sr9aj5qtd5l0ruff7@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
MIKE: Fort Agent, Wisconsin! Home to the Longest Paper Clip Chain in
America!
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
>Lines: 192
>Date: Tue, 29 Oct 2002 04:48:56 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.188.161.23
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1035866936 63.188.161.23
>(Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:48:56 PST)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:48:56 PST
TOM: Wait, he posted it at 4:48 AM on the 29th *and* at 20:48 PM
on the 28th?!? What's the deal?
MIKE: I think that's just the time difference between Roanoke & London.
TOM: Oh.
CROW: You sound disappointed.
TOM: Ah, I was just hoping Stephen had access to a time machine or
something equally cool.
MIKE: Why?
CROW: Because second-hand coolness is as close as Servo'll ever get.
TOM: Why I oughta...
MIKE: Guys? Can we settle it *after* Pearl finishes torturing us?
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161585
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 17/18
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
>Chapter Sixteen:
>Your Final Orders
>
TOM: And hurry it up - the kitchen closes in 15 minutes!
> Jean-Luc returned to the Golden Rinnebeast to check himself out,
MIKE: [Picard] Hey, check me out! Heh. I am one foxy bald admiral!
>and pick up his equipment. As he approached, he noticed the royal guards
>standing outside. He approached and asked the lead guard, "May I assume
>that King Richard is inside?"
TOM: Aye! He's back from the Crusades!
> "His Majesty is enjoying a family dinner," the guard said.
CROW: Doh! So much for post-coup attempt security!
MIKE: [Guard] C'mon, I'll take you to him. Hey, that looks kinda heavy -
want me to carry it for you?
> "Inform the King that Captain Picard has a message for him,"
>Jean-Luc said. "Is there a problem with me accessing my room?"
> "No, I will walk you to the staircase before taking your message to
>the King," the lead guard said.
>
TOM: [Guard] And then maybe we could go to the movies sometime.
> Three minutes later, Captain Picard's packing was interrupted with
>a knock on his door. "The King would like you to join him for the
>remainder of his dinner."
>
CROW: You're just in time to pick the scraps from His Royal Platter.
TOM: [grumbling] He'll probably order the freaking meat pie.
> Jean-Luc Picard entered the private dinning room to find the King
>sitting with his son on his left and daughter on his right.
MIKE: They'd all gorged themselves senseless on meat pies!
> "Jean-Luc,
>have a seat," the King said, motioning to a seat across from him. "Would
>you like something to eat? Your daughter told mine that the meat pie here
>was excellent and she was definitely right.
ALL: [dully] As usual.
> Madame, put Jean-Luc on my bill."
[Crow makes a quacking noise]
> "Who can refuse the Golden Rinnebeast's meat pies?" Jean-Luc said.
TOM: Since Tony Soprano bought them out? *Nobody*!
>"If it wasn't for the fact that she's married to the owner, I'd suggest you
>steal the cook for the palace."
MIKE: King Richard *IS* Pierce Brosnan *AS* Steve McQueen *IN* "The Thomas
Meat Pie Affair"!
> "At the very least, I'll arrange for regular delivery - though
>things tend to get cold by the time it reaches my table," the King said.
MIKE: Sheesh, he's the king and he *still* always gets served last.
TOM: Probably because the cooks get confused by his complicated orders,
like "No lettuce", "No tomato", or "I don't want fries with that".
>"I assume we need to talk?"
CROW: Well, it *is* a basic communication skill.
> "Yes," Jean-Luc said. "And I'll have a large slice of that pie,
>Madame."
> As the pie was placed in front of Jean-Luc, the King said, "That
>will be all, Madame. Tell the guard that we do not wish to be disturbed."
MIKE: Any further.
> The cook left quickly. Only after the cook was gone did Jean-Luc
>speak up. "Are you sure you want your children in on this?"
TOM: [King] Hey, if *I* go down, *they* go down!
> "In this world, they've become two and three on my chain of
>command, and I know the folly of not letting my command team not know my
>orders," the King said.
CROW: The whole "Guess What I Want Done Now" program was a dismal failure.
> "Plus, they're Federation Citizens,
TOM: [scoffs] On what grounds? They've never been to the frickin'
Federation in their entire lives!
CROW: Daddy's a starship captain and mommy's a starship doctor.
TOM: And they deserted their posts to become ROYALTY! Try again,
Perry Mason!
> the Prime
>Directive's restrictions on what we can tell them doesn't apply. I doubt
>my orders are classified enough to have other previsions apply."
TOM: Post-visions, though, may occur. Consult your ophthalmologist.
> "They aren't," Jean-Luc said. "Given your situation it might be
>advisable to give your children the line officer's field training course
>though."
MIKE: [Picard] Someday, they may want to crash a starship into a planet
of their own, you know.
> "We have field training for that now?" the King said.
CROW: Yes. All you need is a field.
> "Yes, it's how my daughter managed to get her rank," Jean-Luc said.
TOM: Well, along with intimidation, blackmail and sheer outright bribery.
>"She's actually never attended the Academy, save for a couple Security
>Seminars."
MIKE: Admiral Tony Robbins!
> "The short blond who helped out Avery?" the King asked. Jean-Luc
>nodded. "Excellent officer. How old is she again?"
CROW: [King] Cause, you know my wife just died so I'm in the market again...
> "Thirteen, almost fourteen," Jean-Luc said.
TOM: Just in case you need a fresh dose of the absurd to wash out any
last vestiges of normalcy.
> "And you made her your Chief of Security... Jean-Luc, they must
>think you're crazy," the King said.
MIKE: [Picard] Well, confidentially - I *AM* CRAZY! HOOHOOHOOHOO!
BLAHBLAHBLAH!! AHOOOOOGGA!!!
> "Some did, but not many after Starbase 72's Security Competition,"
>Jean-Luc said.
> "How well did the Enterprise do," the King said.
TOM: [Picard] We blew the rest of Starfleet away! Literally!
> "We won four out of the nine events, and came in second on two
>more," Jean-Luc replied. "She came in second the individual bladed weapons
>contest with bat'leth."
CROW: Third with a mayonnaise spreader.
> "So, she's good with a sword," Avery interrupted. "Brittany would
>probably find her a challenge."
> "And yourself?" the King asked his son.
MIKE: [Avery] Oh, she'd wipe the floor with me, no problem.
> "Brittany beats me, unless she's in a dress," Avery admitted.
CROW: She's the best naked swordsgirl in all of Ellosia!
> "Should I arrange a challenge before we leave?" Jean-Luc asked.
MIKE: Yes, let's have all the major characters try to kill each other.
TOM: All joking aside, you may have an idea.
MIKE: Did I sound like I was joking?
> "I could use the practice," Brittany said. "I just know I'm going
>to be stuck too much in court while I'm in Odyssey."
CROW: [Brittany] The destruction of property lawsuits alone will have me
tied up for years!
> "I'll order her down then," Jean-Luc said. "Richard, I've arranged
>for the starship Sir Edward Pellew
MIKE: The USS Sir Edward Pellew - winner of the "Longest Starship Name"
award of 2378.
> to assist you in removing any of the
>advanced technology that can be removed.
TOM: [Picard] We'll be starting with your fillings, so eat up while you can.
> There is nothing we can or should
>do to the Odyssey's hull or space frame, of course.
CROW: I dunno, a little coat of Turtle Wax wouldn't hurt.
> Our projections say it
>will take a couple of years to do it properly and without the notice of the
>general population."
MIKE: They'll have one officer who spends the next two years outside the
castle yelling "Look!" and pointing the other way.
> "That's just about what I figured," the King said. "The Computer
>Cores alone will take a year, with the reinforcement we'll need as they're
>removed."
CROW: Boy, it's tough to get new memory chips out there.
> "For the moment, you'll report to me," Jean-Luc said. "Commander
>Lozano of the Pellew will report to you,
MIKE: [Picard] And for some reason, we all report to Missy Elliot.
> and is assigned to the project for
>the duration."
> "How long will you be in the sector?" the King said.
CROW: [King] You wanna come by Sunday and watch the game?
> "Another two months," Jean-Luc said. "They're giving the
>Enterprise a thorough shakedown cruise. Afterwards, we'll be doing the
>three on one off Neutral Zone rotation.
TOM: It's the phattest new dance groove in the quadrant!
> Even when we're on that, your
>chain of command will go through me after the sector commander. Any
>questions, Richard?"
MIKE: [King] Yeah, could you repeat all that, I missed it.
> "How often do you want reports?" the King asked.
> "Every three weeks," Jean-Luc said, finishing off his meat pie.
CROW: [Picard] I love bossing kings around! It's fun! BWAHAHAHAH!!!
>"You're right, this is good."
>
TOM: Meanwhile, the malevolent entity in the meat pies slowly takes
over their minds!
> Admiral Jean-Luc Picard exited his ready room a couple days later
>to find all of his Command Crew on duty for the first time since the
>mission began.
MIKE: Thank God they finally got Riker sobered up.
> He approached his seat as he said, "Number One, Counselor,
>I assume our business with the Odyssey is concluded?"
TOM: [HAL] Daisy, Daisy, give me yoooour answeeeerrrrrr doooooooooo...
> "Aye, sir," Riker replied. "Thanks for the shore leave."
> "You're welcome, Number One," Jean-Luc said. "Marrissa, may I hope
>your challenge with Princess Brittany went well?"
CROW: A Dance-Dance Revolution challenge?
> "You could, but you'd be wrong," Marrissa said. "She beat me,
>rather resoundingly."
[Stunned silence]
TOM: Marrissa - lost?
MIKE: I suddenly feel a cool draft you know where.
CROW: Be still my stricken heart!
> "So much for your perfect record," Riker said.
> "My record has never been perfect," Marrissa replied.
TOM: [Marrissa] Though the heads of all those who defeat me always
mysteriously end up miles from their bodies.
> "Dad sees to
>that. Though at the moment I do have need of some cannon fodder.
MIKE: As opposed to canon fodder.
TOM: That's what they use in the "Enterprise" Script Room.
>Starboard Aft Gym after shift perhaps, Commander?"
CROW: o/` Mister Riker - Cannon Fodder! Here he is at - Camp Granada! o/`
> "I'm afraid I've got some paper work to handle," Riker said. "The
>day-to-day commander for the last week apparently created an update report
>and evaluation for every shift she served.
MIKE: Darn her for being efficient and conscientious, anyway!
> Captain, perhaps you can take
>her on."
> "Darn, foiled by my own hard work," Marrissa smiled.
CROW: [Marrissa] More people to be "handled" later.
> "I guess I'll
>be finishing up the Security Department Personnel Evaluations, or doing my
>school work tonight."
TOM: Let's see, the fitness of people who carry large phasers and guard
the ship's command crew, or the Smoot-Hawley Tariff. Hmmmm...
> "School work first, young lady," Jean-Luc said,
TOM: Oh. Well, cancel the previous riff, then.
> staring directly at
>his adopted daughter.
MIKE: Oh, that's dangerous.
CROW: Yeah, staring directly at Marrissa can fry your retinas.
> "The evaluations aren't due for another ten days.
>Then we'll talk about using my first officer for cannon fodder."
MIKE: [Picard] I want to use him first.
> "Aye sir," Marrissa responded. "Incoming request for projected
>rendezvous time from the Starship Hood."
TOM: Yo yo yo! It's Stizzarships from da hood!
> "Well, it seems that Captain DeSoto is wishes to see us, Number
>One," Jean-Luc said.
MIKE: [Riker] Shoot! Tell him I'm not here - I owe him money!
> "Ensign Sachs,
CROW: Mistake your wife for a hat!
> set a course for the Beta Hydra system, warp seven,"
>Riker ordered.
> "Course set and laid in, sir," the girl at the helm. "Projected
>rendezvous with Starship Hood is nine hours."
TOM: [Sachs] Including an hour stopover at the Earl Grey Tea farms on
Lipton V.
MIKE: [Picard] Excellent work, Sachs! Consider yourself promoted!
> "Engage."
>
[All hum the TNG fade out theme]
> The King peered through the telescope that the astronomer had set
>up in the Royal Gardens.
MIKE: He had a great view into the bedroom of the Baroness next door.
> Through it he could see the Starship Enterprise,
>looking for all like a toy hung from the heavens.
TOM: Then he realized he was looking into the window of Toys'R'Us.
> He watched for a moment
>as it rotated, and went off into warp.
CROW: Wow, that's a pretty powerful 14th century telescope he's got there.
> "Astronomer, I see nothing,"
MIKE: [Schultz] I see nossing, nooooossing!
> the King said, turning to look at his
>children "Did either of you see this object before I arrived?"
TOM: [Brittany] Like, tcha! It was the starship thingy, dahd!
CROW: [Avery] You gotta excuse the old man - starting to forget things.
> "No, Father," Brittany said. "And don't bother asking Avery, he
>was paying too much attention to Hayley."
MIKE: [Avery] What were you saying, Brittany?
> "I can never pay too much attention to Hayley," Avery said, with
>his arm around the girl he was to marry in two days.
TOM: Oh good, she has him under her thumb already.
> "Astronomer, I admire your efforts to map the stars, but next time,
>I'd prefer to see stars, planets, and nebulae," the King said.
CROW: [Astronomer] But sire, a giant comet - heading right for us!!
MIKE: [King] No no, *just* stars, planets and nebulae! Comets bore me.
>"I understand that there is a rather nice nebula that can be see towards
>the south west this time of year with the aid of a telescope."
TOM: [King] Like, say, the one we have right here!
> "Father, you have a message from the Fleet," Brittany said, looking
>up to indicate the stars.
CROW: Rear Admiral J Lo is calling with a bootygram.
> "Perhaps you should read it while the Astronomer
>finds your nebula."
> The King took the parchment from his daughter. "I'll say one thing
>for Jean-Luc, he chooses good paper,"
MIKE: [King] It's so soft! And it's even 2-ply!
> he said as he unfolded the note.
>"The Pellew will be here tomorrow.
CROW: They're sending a romantic skunk?
TOM: [Pepe LePew] Eet ees love, non?
> Perhaps we better settle some of our
>other issues before she arrives."
> "Like what, Father?" Avery asked.
MIKE: [King] Our share of the syndication rights.
> "Who to we give the Dukedom of Fasstime two,
CROW: Fast Times II: Spicoli's Revenge!
> and who do we have
>take charge of the Army," the King said.
CROW: How about Pauly Shore? He's in the army now.
MIKE: Eww, bad!
TOM: Ten points off for bad pun. And fifty more points for referencing
Pauly Shore.
> "Grandfather Avtra can handle the Army," Hayley said.
> "Your Grandfather is one of the Dukes, I can't leave him in command
>of all the divisions ...
TOM: No, wait, foul! Back it up!
MIKE: What now?
TOM: If the king and queen were *both* starship officers, how can one of
the local Dukes possibly be the kid's grandfather?
CROW: Umm, honorary title?
TOM: Fat Chance! I call do-over!
MIKE: So you *want* to read this whole thing again?
TOM: [hastily] I withdraw my call.
> one of them is supposed to be reporting directly
>to me," the King said.
> "How about having that division report to Lord Sidney at the
>Admiralty while you search for a successor?" Brittany suggested.
MIKE: Yes, let's have the army report to the navy. That won't cause any
problems with the chain of command.
> "That won't work," Avery said. "I'd suggest either Colonel James
>Dunsen, or Colonel Daniel FitzAvtra."
> "Hmmm... Brittany, have the Colonels report to me as soon as
>possible," the King said.
TOM: Like Colonel Kira Nerys.
MIKE: And Colonel Sherman T. Potter.
CROW: And Colonel Tom Parker.
> "Lord Sidney will be heading all our Armed
>Forces.
MIKE: I hope it's Sidney Poitier.
TOM: They call me - GENERAL Tibbs!
> Avery, let him know Hayley, can you arrange for your grandfather
>to meet me discretely when he comes into town. Who are our candidates for
>the Fasstime Dukedom?
CROW: Baron AlGore, Lord Dubya, and some commoner guy named Nader.
> "That's my study," Brittany said. "The Fasstime line is very thin.
TOM: [Brittany] We think it's a lack of protein or something.
>For the last six generations they've just had a single heir. Duke Loniel's
>father was legally a bastard, at that.
MIKE: His father is Doug Herzog?
CROW: Maybe it's Jamie Kellner.
TOM: Or even Bill Maher.
> If we go out seven generations,
TOM: We'll probably see Captain Archer.
>I've found a link to the Earl of Arlipor whose head Avery had chopped off
>a couple days ago,
CROW: [Avery] Oops.
TOM: Oh, *good one*, Avery!
> which I guess makes young Virgil a possibility. The
>best one, however would be the case of Lord Henry's own illegitimate
>offspring, in particular his twins with the Countess of Dunsen on the Sea.
TOM: And her fresh, tasty cans of tuna,
>The red hair pretty much told us that It's his instead of the Late Earl
>Drake's."
CROW: By that logic, Nicole Kidman and Carrot Top are practically twins.
MIKE: You ought to be shot just for suggesting that.
> "What about the illegitimate problem?" Avery said.
CROW: Well if it's an illegitimate problem, it's not really a problem, is it?
> "In Fasstime? You have to be kidding. A declaration of heredity
>from the Bishop of Dunsen on the River and that's solved," Brittany said.
>"The Bishop is in town too."
ALL: It's Da Bishop!
MIKE: Don't do it, Vic! Don't name 'im da heir!
TOM: *Voom!*
MIKE: *snap* We was too late!
> "That still leaves us with a minor child as Duke," the King said.
CROW: They should get a major child. At least one with an IMDb entry.
> "The Countess, and one of the Dukes, plus someone from here, and
>you've got a good core Regency council," Avery said.
MIKE: Plus, it's the basis for a really funny bar joke.
> "Duke Nolan did a
>good job with Duchess Desiree fifteen years ago."
TOM: Take that how you will, folks.
> "We'll give that to council for discussion," the King said, looking
>at the Astronomer.
MIKE: Who's just killed Kid Dinosaur. Bad timing there.
> "Let's see if he's got the McAllister C-5 Nebula in
>view."
>
TOM: [Richard Harris] For one brief, stupid moment...
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
CROW: At this point, I'm not entirely sure, but I think that writing may be
far and away the single most addictive thing in the universe.
MIKE: Well what about crack and heroin?
TOM: Or whiskey and tobacco?
CROW: Fuhgeddaboutit!
>Path: sn-us!sn-xit-01!sn-xit-04!supernews.com!newsfeed.news2me.com!
>newsfeed2.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!
>stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED!
>not-for-mail
>From: Stephen Ratliff <stephen@trekiverse.org>
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 18/18 (Marrissa Stories)
MIKE: Hang on, guys, we're in the home stretch.
[Ragged cheering]
CROW: Ah, he could still slip in another chapter midway through this one.
>Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office
>Message-ID: <fa8sru8qrhhvtths5grvn90gj49h75avod@4ax.com>
>X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
>Lines: 93
>Date: Tue, 29 Oct 2002 04:51:37 GMT
>NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.188.161.23
TOM: Live, from Studio City, it's "The 63.188.161.23 Show", with
your host, the lovely 63.188.161.23!
>X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net
>X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1035867097 63.188.161.23
>(Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:51:37 PST)
>NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:51:37 PST
>Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:161587
>
>Title: Royal and Prime Directives
>Author: Stephen Ratliff
>Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org
>Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
>Part: NEW 18/18
CROW: Let's just go. The story's over. Let's go. [goes offscreen]
MIKE: Uh, Crow?
CROW: [O.S.] Nope. It's 18 of 18. We're done. Buhbye.
MIKE: I think we have to actually read it before it counts.
CROW: [O.S.] Fine. [Comes back and sits in his seat] Spoilsport.
>Rating: [PG]
>Summary: The crew of Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a
>starship Captain crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation
>
CROW: Grand Fenwick?
>Epilogue
>
> Prince Avery stood on the balcony overlooking the historic old
>capital of Ellosia.
TOM: The one they ground beneath their hull?
MIKE: Well, he didn't say it was a *tall* balcony.
> It was not often that he visited old Verifor Castle.
>He was in the city representing his father in the installation of
>Archbishop Xavier as Patriarch of Ellosia.
CROW: Cyclops and Storm were hooking him up to Cerbero now.
MIKE: [Picard] Hmmm, handsome chap - looks quite familiar, actually.
> Tradition said the King
>couldn't be in town.
MIKE: It was the same weekend as the Galactic Amway Convention.
> He'd hoped that his sister would get this job, but he
>was the heir, and plus the newly knighted Sir Brittany was on her
>honeymoon.
TOM: So which is more disturbing - the fact that they made a 13-year old
girl a knight, or that she married her first lover, who just happens
to be a sailor about twice her age?
CROW: Six and pick 'em.
> "Why the scowl, Prince?" said the soft voice of Duchess Desiree.
> Prince Avery turned to discover his mother-in-law standing beside
>him, dressed in full Ducal Regalia.
MIKE: And almost asphyxiated himself trying to stifle his laugh.
> "I didn't want this assignment, and I
>wish Hayley could have come with me," he said shortly.
TOM: Oh, whine whine whine! You're crown prince, kid - enjoy it!
> "But she's
>suffering from morning sickness.
CROW: Sex just automatically results in pregnancy in Steve's universe,
doesn't it?
> She can't stand riding, and can't keep
>anything down until late in the afternoon."
MIKE: It's just side effects from finding out she's married to this guy.
> "I was just like that when I was having her. I didn't have that
>with my other children though. I must remember to stop by to see her while
>she's still suffering." Desiree said.
CROW: [Desiree] I do so enjoy - the suffering!
> Then seeing Avery's worried look, she
>continued. "Don't worry, it's perfectly normal."
> "Where is the young Duke of Fasstime?" Avery asked.
TOM: Heading to his class with Ray Walston.
> "Last I saw of young Lionel, he was running away from his sister
>and Lea," Desiree said. "Who would have thought that a Duke would be
>afraid of spiders?"
MIKE: Yeah, after all, they're just icky, hairy, venomous, eight-legged
horrors that can paralyze or kill with a single bite from their
dripping fangs and -
TOM: YAAAAAHHH!!!! [ducks under seat]
MIKE: Tom?
CROW: There are *no* spiders, Servo, he was just talking about them.
TOM: [peeks up] Heh! I'm not scared. I was just looking for..
> "Isn't there a spider in the Fasstime coat of arms?" Avery
>recalled.
TOM: YAAAAAHHH!!!! [ducks back under seat]
CROW: Oh come on up, ya big babybot!
MIKE: We promise, no more spider talk.
> "Yes," Desiree said. "How is your sister doing?"
TOM: [emerging] Heh. Okay, we're safe. No rhinoceroses under the seats.
MIKE: [blandly] Of course not.
> "She's taking a cruise with her new husband, and generally trying
>to stay out of the lime light after the outcry that followed her
>knighting," Avery said.
CROW: Ah, no big deal. She's just the latest in a long line of eccentric
royals.
> "Then she'll be Father's representative in the
>Fasstime Regency Council for a while."
MIKE: Then he plans on making her Attorney General.
> "I'm glad I didn't draw the short straw on that one," Desiree said.
>"Murdock gets that job this time."
TOM: Well, at least he has B.A. and Face to help him.
> "The Duke of Avtra gets to work with a regency council who's most
>powerful members are both female ... this could be fun to watch," Avery
>said.
MIKE: [Avery] In fact, I may sell tickets and popcorn.
> "But only from a distance," Desiree said.
TOM: Duchess Desiree's being played by Bette Midler.
CROW: At least it's not Barbra Streisand.
> "I do not envy your
>sister. It's cold out here."
TOM: o/` It's getting cold out here! So put on all your clothes! o/`
> "Perhaps we should go inside."
>
CROW: [Avery] So have I ever told you what a foxy mother-in-law you are?
> Lieutenant Calgary entered the ship's bar in the company of his
>friends,
TOM: Lieutenant Hudson's Bay and Ensign Medicine Hat.
> having just been released from sickbay. His walk was still a
>little wobbly, from the stretching he'd received from Lord Henry's rack,
>causing him to stumble every once in a while, but he refused all help.
MIKE: On the bright side, he's now one of the few people who can refer to
Manute Bol as "Shorty".
> As he entered, he spotted Lieutenant Picard sitting in the corner
>next to the three-dimensional chess set.
CROW: Possessed by an indescribable rage, the abandoned and tortured
officer flung himself at her scrawny, wringable neck.
> She was out of uniform, which
>Calgary had never seen before,
TOM: If you don't count the time they spent "exploring" the clock tower.
> dressed in a green jumpsuit.
TOM: Uh oh! I think Mike has a fan!
MIKE: Aw shucks! It's not so bad being trendy. Everyone who looks like me
is my friend!
> The young girl
>was idly playing with a black knight, while drinking something red.
MIKE: Tonight's choice was AB Positive.
> The
>chess set appeared to be set at the end of a game, the white king tipped
>over.
TOM: And the White Castle all cluttered with empty Slider boxes.
> "Excuse me, Mark," Calgary said to his companions, "but I need to
>talk to Lieutenant Picard."
CROW: [Calgary] And by "talk" I mean "beat to a bloody pulp".
> Calgary walked towards Marrissa's seat,
>stumbling on the step as he reached her.
> Instantly, Marrissa was up, preventing him from falling. Calgary,
>waved her away, and stood up.
MIKE: [Calgary] Don't touch me, vile strumpet!
> "I believe I owe you an apology, and
>thanks."
[All sigh]
MIKE: I knew it. I knew this would happen.
TOM: [Marrissa] You forgot your undying devotion and the "All hail
Marrissa", but please continue.
CROW: [Calgary] I apologize for doubting your godhood, mistress, just
don't have me tortured again!
> Marrissa sat down, and motioned the chair across from her. Calgary
>gratefully sat down.
> "You rescued me, and for that I'm grateful for that," Calgary said.
TOM: This sentence brought to you by the Council for Redundancy Council.
>"You aren't incompetent, like I had said before."
CROW: Well, y'know, except for the part where she lost you and then forgot
about you.
TOM: [sighing] Here we go, we're reaching the Marrissa boot-kissing quota.
> "Thank you," Marrissa said softly, her eyes looking directly into
>Calgary's.
CROW: Obey! Obey! Obey!
> Calgary looked away, towards his friends at the bar.
TOM: [Friend] Dude, Cal's whipped big-time!
MIKE: [Friend] Yep, he's joined the Jay Gordon Emasculation Society!
> "I still
>don't think you're command or security chief material, or even worthy of
>the rank, but that's not my call."
CROW: His call is face-masking. Fifteen yard penalty, automatic first down!
> "Some days, I don't think I am," Marrissa replied. "Care for a
>game of chess?"
TOM: How about a lovely game of Thermo-Nuclear Warfare?
> "No, I don't play, but Mark over there is quite into it," Calgary
>said. "I'll ask if he'll play you, if you'd like."
MIKE: [Mark] Hey, don't pull me into your little psycho-drama, pal!
> "Thanks," Marrissa said, before Calgary hobbled off towards his
>friends. For a while stared out at the on rushing stars, until a tall
>auburn haired engineer slid into the seat across from her.
CROW: Commander Conan O'Brien makes his move!
TOM: o/` In the yeaaaar two thousaaaand! o/`
> "I understand you need someone to play against?" the engineer
>asked.
> Marrissa smiled and asked, "white or black?"
CROW: I'm Egyptian actually.
> The engineer picked
>up the black king, and they began setting up their respective sides.
> From across the room, Commander Riker watched his Captain's
>daughter,
TOM: Then he belched and spilled his Schlitz all over Guinan's robes.
> and smiled, as he picked up his trombone, and favored the room
>with some of his beloved jazz.
MIKE: Wait, no. Not "favored" - what's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah!
"Tortured"!
>--
>Stephen Ratliff
>
>
>"To hell with crack, heroin, whiskey, tobacco. Writing is far and away
>the single most addictive thing in the universe, IMHO." ~ Greywolf
>
TOM: My only friends, we have reached the end.
CROW: Is that it? Are we done?
MIKE: If we move fast enough.
TOM: Well don't just stand there, Nelson, beat feet!
[All exit]
O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6]
CROW: Wow! That has to be the longest Marrissa story we've ever had to
sit through!
TOM: Not to mention the royalest.
MIKE: And hey, did it strike you that Stephen seems to have been watching
a lot of "Perry Mason" reruns lately?
CROW: Whattaya mean, "lately"?
TOM: Yeah, every few stories, he throws in a court martial or a crime
scene of some kind.
MIKE: True - remember poor Jellico in "The Walls of Jellico"?
TOM: Yeah, and Ro's obviously rigged trial in "Premier Marks-a-Lot"?
CROW: Or even the time-traveling scofflaws in "Time Sp-" - uh, "Athena
Prospects"?
MIKE: It'd almost make a TV series by itself.
TOM: Yeah, "Law & Order - Special Marrissa Unit"!
CROW: [L&O narrator] In the Starfleet justice system, the Federation is
represented by two separate yet equally important people: Marrissa,
who instigates crime, and Marrissa, who persecutes the offenders.
These are their stories.
TOM: *chungchung*
MIKE: Hey, don't be giving Dick Wolf any more...
[Mike is interrupted as the SOL experiences a small jolt]
CROW: Hey, did you feel that?
MIKE: Yeah, I did.
TOM: Me too. Wonder what's...
MAGIC VOICE: Attention, crew of the Satellite of Love, we have experienced
a minor impact event with another ship.
MIKE: Really?!? Wow! Hey, Cambot, get us Rocket # 9.
[The viewpoint switches to the outside, which shows the SOL in space
next to what is obvious a Revel model of a Star Trek ship - only with
Cinderella's-Castle type spires on the saucer.]
[Bridge]
MAGIC VOICE: The other ship is hailing us, Mike.
MIKE: Oh. Well, put it on the Hexfield, and let's chat.
[The hexfield opens to reveal Bill Corbett, resplendent in a TNG-era
standard Starfleet uniform, with the addition of a purple silk sash, fur-
lined cape, and a truly, spectacularly cheesy crown]
MAN: Greetings, primitive native beings. I am Captain Richard York of
the USS Odyssey, and you must be what's left of the crew of this
tragically unfortunate vessel.
MIKE: Uh, yeah. Hi. I'm Mike Nelson, and this is Crow and Tom. We seem
to have had a little fender bender, but I don't think...
YORK: I'm truly, truly sorry for all this. I feel a terrible burden and
responsibility for what my horrific (yet unintended) actions have
wrought.
TOM: Oh hey, it's no biggie. I bet you can't even see the scratch.
YORK: Please, I appreciate your attempts to soothe my guilt, but I can see
only one way to undo what I've done. I have no choice but to declare
myself your new captain.
CROW: Oh, sure, I - huh?
MIKE: Um, look, first - no one was hurt okay? We're all fine and dan-
YORK: Please - I know *you* don't want to be captain. You'd rather devote
your energy to your highly important naps, not to mention the
critical consumption of Cheez-Its.
MIKE: Wuh - well yeah, kinda, yeah.
YORK: And you, golden one, would have no chance to finish all those back
issues of "Justice League" that have been just piling up.
CROW: I gotta admit, that's true.
YORK: And as for you, Duke Servo, the time and effort you've spent on your
underwear collection would all be for naught.
TOM: It would?
YORK: Absolutely!
TOM: Huh. Okay.
YORK: So you can see, that since you don't want to be captain, and I do -
uh, that is, I feel the responsibility for it, I *should* be your
new captain.
[Mike & the bots huddle for a few seconds]
MIKE: Well, I'm sold. How about you guys?
CROW: Absolutely.
TOM: No doubt at all.
MIKE: So we'll just be in our rooms while you carry on with the experiments.
YORK: Excellent! [calls offscreen] Hey, Harlie, chalk up another one,
haha! Now we can [pause] - uh, wait, "experiments"?
TOM: Yeah, no big deal. Just every so often, some nutty nut girl who's
nuts will send us a rotten movie to watch.
CROW: Or some lame fan fiction to read.
MIKE: Oh, and some really bizarre rants to muddle through.
YORK: Really?!?
MIKE: Yeah, like Roger Corman films, or Coleman Francis films, or stuff
starring Joe Don Baker or Robert Z'Dar.
YORK: Did you - did you say Joe Don *Baker*?
CROW: Yeah. Oh, and how about that one net advertisement she sent us for
that so-called "Agent Action" thing?! Or all that James Cameron
conspiracy rubbish?!? Hoo, that really stunk up the place!
TOM: Oh, and how about all that Daria / Sailor Moon stuff?
YORK: Huh?
MIKE: And who can forget the Eye or Argon, and its intrepid hero, Grignr,
he of the mighty thews?
YORK: Wait now...
CROW: And of course all those durn Marrissa stories.
YORK: Muhmuhmuhmuhmarrissa?!
TOM: Oh, but I'm sure you'll do just fine.
MIKE: Yeah, hang in there, Cap'n York. We're right behind you!
CROW: Somewhere.
YORK: Hahaha. Oh, say, golly, look at the time. I gotta run.
MIKE: But, wait, what about being captain and all?
YORK: Later, okay? In fact, you're obviously in lots better shape than I
thought. Look, uh, I'll call you guys tomorrow with the insurance
info, 'kay? Buhbye! [Calling Offscreen] HARLIE! FIRE UP THE
ENGINES!! THEY KNOW MARRISSA!!!
[The hexfield closes - quickly!]
CROW: Woooo! Boy, he was easy to fish out!
MIKE: Yep - never saw it coming.
TOM: Hey, should we give out the info now?
MIKE: Yeah, let's. *ahem* 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. Don't forget to read the FAQ at
"http://www.masemware.com/mst3k/faq.shtml";, don't work blue, and no
seizing control of hick feudal planets.
TOM: Yeah, especially if you're a bag of anvils like ol' York!
ALL: Hahahahaha...
CROW: Um, hey guys? You *do* realize we just talked some guy out of
getting us off of theater duty, right?
[The laughter quickly fades to uncertain grimaces and mewling as the lights
flash, taking us back to...]
[CF - Pearl stands shaking her head in disgust at Bobo, who is laid out
on a couch, moaning and clutching his quite distended belly]
BOBO: I can't believe I ate the whole thing!
PEARL: Trust me, gorillabrains, you ate all 29 pies!
BOBO: Oooooh, catfish meringue, why do you betray me so?
PEARL: Learn your limitations, ya great ape! [turns to face camera] As for
*you*, you loutheads-in-waiting, you may have survived this one...
OBSERVER: [rushing in from stage left] Madame!
PEARL: Later, pasty! Like I said, you may have survived this, but mark my
words, I'm not through with you loser yet - not by a long shot!
OBSERVER: Madame, *please*!
PEARL: I'll break you yet, Nelson! You and yer little pals too!
OBSERVER: Madame!!
PEARL: And when I do, ooooh, I'll throw a big evil party! And I won't even
invite that snotty Dr. Helen - or her goofball lab assis-
OBSERVER: Pearl!!
PEARL: WHAT?!?!?
OBSERVER: I hate to interrupt you in the middle of one of your insane
rants, but - look! [points out window]
[The sound of something going really fast, heading this way, starts
building to a crescendo]
PEARL: I don't see anything. Well, except for that one little starship
that seems to be - heading - right - *this* way?
BOBO: Ooooh, ask him if he's got any Tums.
PEARL: And what's that banner say?
OBSERVER: "Ellosia or Bust".
PEARL: Mm-hm. Well. [pause] RUUUUUUN!!!!
[Pearl & Brain Guy exist, post-haste and we fade out, only to hear the
noise of a tremendous impact. There is a slight pause, and then...]
BOBO: *Urrrrrrp!* Oh, thank you! I feel *much* better now!
**************************************************************
"ROYAL AND PRIME DIRECTIVES" BY: Stephen Ratliff
MiSTING BY: Bill Livingston (Editor), Matt Blackwell (Fashion Critic),
Freezer (Food & Recipes), Doug Gale (Weather Forecasting), Joseph
Nebus (Crosswords), Phantom (Comics Page), Michael Pullman (Classi-
fied Ads), Chris Ratcliff (Lifestyles) and Dalty Smilth (Dear Abby).
MiSTING DIBS LIST MAINTAINED BY: Michael Neylon
WATCH BY: Seiko
DAYS GO BY: And still I think of you
BALLISTIC: Ecks vs. Sever
SPECIAL GUEST STARS: Bill Corbett as Fidel Castro, Paul Chapin as Sean
"Spicoli" Penn, Edward Norton as Stephen Ratliff, and Bill Corbett
(again) as Captain Richard York
THANKS: To MiSTies, MuSTies, RATMMers, the teachers of America, Former
Treasury Secretary Albert Gallatin, the inventor of the retractable
dog leash, and a mysterious woman in a red dress & trenchcoat known
only as "Marta".
SPECIAL THANKS: To Dalty Smilth and Joseph Nebus for host seg inspiration.
"Star Trek: TNG" and all associated characters and situations are
trademark of and (c) Paramount. All rights reserved. All clones of
major characters will be confiscated and made over into villains for
major motion picture releases (Look for "Star Trek: Evil Goateed Geordi"
in theaters soon, followed by "Star Trek: Troi with a Bad Hairdo" and
"Star Trek: Dark Throwaway").
Marrissa Amber Flores Picard is not exactly trademark of or (c) Stephen
Ratliff, but this version is his own iteration of the original character,
and we respect that.
"Mystery Science Theater 3000" trademark of and (c) Best Brains, Inc. All
rights reserved. As elusive as Robert Denby!
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.
Trust me, it's better this way.
Goosio!
Keep circulating the posts.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
> "No, sir. I have found no evidence of a plot yet,"
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