Winning Love By Daylight - Solo
From: Pete Milan <deucepm@prodigy.net>
Subject: [MiSTing] Winning Love By Daylight--The Solo Version
Date: Monday, April 17, 2000 3:33 AM
MiSTed: Winning Love By Daylight
Original by Stephen Ratliff
MiSTed by Peter Milan and Matt Rossi
MiSTed: Winning Love By Daylight
Original by Stephen Ratliff
MiSTed by Peter Milan and Matt Rossi
WARNING: Those of you who have not seen the film Fight Club may be
more than a little confused by the host segments contained
herein. If you have any intention of seeing Fight Club,
please do so before reading this MiSTing. (You can probably
catch it at one of those theaters/cafes.
You know, where you get nachos and beer during the flick.)
[Opening Credits.]
[1...2...3...4...5...6...7]
[SOL. MIKE is sitting at the desk with a lap-top computer turned on, the glow giving a saturnine cast to his otherwise placid Minnewegian
appearance. Standing over his shoulder is Mike again, with that
goatee from _Last of the Wild Horses_.]
MIKE: [Voice-Over] That's me, and my new best friend Steve.
I met Steve here on the satellite. Steve is teaching me all
sorts of things.
STEVE: How can you know anything about yourself if you've
never written a Star Trek fanfic that turns an incredibly minor
character into the most important person in the universe?
MIKE: [VO] Together, Steve and I have begun working on
my manuscript about the Holographic Klingon that John Tesh
played in that one episode. Turns out he'll become the savior
of the Empire! Isn't that great?
(CROW and TOM walk on the stage, see Mike laboring over his fanfic
and begin talking to STEVE)
CROW: You know, M...
STEVE: Let me stop you right there, Crow. You're about to ask me if
it's really a good idea for Mike to write a fanfic about a Tesh
Klingon. Well, Crow, here's the way it is: we're the first
generation to be abandoned by our parents, told that we were
going to grow up to be rock stars and millionaires, only to
end up on a satellite in space watching crap on a screen
like lemmings. So it's only natural that Mike release his rage
through crap fanfics. It's all part of the great rage-chain.
TOM: Uhm, M...
STEVE: Don't think, Tom! Just let yourself be the monster of vengeance
I know you can be. It's time to take our lives back!
MIKE: [VO] It was the same: In Steve We Trusted. That's how we
started the Riff Club.
MAGIC VOICE: Okay, Mike's gone whack-job. We'll be right back.
[Commercial: Bill Bixby is dead, but his legacy lives on. This fall, thrill to
the exploits of Mayim Bialik in MY FAVORITE SHE-HULK!]
[SOL. MIKE is wearing a bathrobe and sipping coffee while CROW, TOM,
GYPSY and STEVE are all chatting animatedly.]
CROW: Wow, you're right, Steve! I'm channeling my frustration at my
endless imprisonment here on the satellite into juvenile behavior! Now
that I know that, I'm gonna read and work to improve myself!
STEVE: That's all you can do, Crow. Make your mind and body strong
for the Revolution to come...we'll make the bastards pay. (Smiles a dazzling
grin complete with light gleaming off of his perfect white teeth.)
TOM: Well, your message of personal responsibility and your roguish good
looks have convinced me! I want to be part of your Riff Club!
GYPSY: Uh oh, looks like Pearl's calling us...
STEVE: So what? I'll handle her. (Pops the button.) What do you want,
Shamu?
[Castle Forrester. PEARL stands there, dumbfounded. BRAIN GUY and
BOBO look from the screen to her and back again.]
BG: I know it will be awful...and yet, I cannot look away.
BOBO: Hey, I think he just called you fat!
PEARL: I heard...
BOBO: Just looked at you and called you fat! Right to your face!
PEARL: I know!
BOBO: He stared right into your eyes and called you a gigantic
tub of guts!
PEARL grabs BOBO by the throat and shakes him like a rag doll. Then
she looks at the screen with evil in her eyes.
PEARL: Well, dead man, I was just calling to send you a copy of Oh, the Places
You'll Go, but now you've angered me. And you know what that means!
[SOL.]
STEVE: Show me what you got, you artery clog with a voice.
CROW: Uh, Steve, as much as I respect you...could you please shut
the hell up?
TOM: Mike, are you going to rein this in?
MIKE sips his coffee unconcernedly.
[Castle Forrester.]
PEARL looks over to BRAIN GUY.
PEARL: Artery clog with...[shuddering with rage] All right. That's it.
BRAIN GUY! Double the Ratliff and double the PAIN! [starts throttling
Bobo again]
BG: I hear and obey. Well, my walking bags of hyena offal, we've got
a lush, turgid mix for you; first up is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer
fanfic that's a big change of pace; then, several trailers for
upcoming Ratliff stories that'll be taking you to a pitiless landscape
of eternal suffering from where there is no escape...and THEN
we segue neatly into the latest tale of Marrissa Picard. It's a
tale of fear and loathing we like to call "Winning Love By
Daylight."
BOBO: [between chokes] I can't believe he called you 1000 pounds of bacon fat
in a 500 pound bag!
[SOL. Consternation 'n uproar.]
TOM: Oh, good one, Steve! ...Steve?
MIKE: WE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!
CROW: Hey, where'd Steve go?
ALL: AHHHHH!...
[7...6...5...4...3...2...1]
[Mike & the Bots file in.]
TOM: Where'd that guy come from, anyway?
MIKE: Uh...Toronto, I think.
BOTS: Ohhhhhh...
> Say Eh-Oh to the Chosen One
> by Ducks
ALL: Eh-oh, Chosen One!
>
> I do not own any of the BtVS characters or the
> Teletubbies! The Sunnydale Slaying Co. Belong to Joss
> and his minions.
MIKE: The Sunnydale Slaying Co...sounds like a folksy
Midwestern oufit that you'd find in the Wireless
catalog, doesn't it?
> Po & the Teletubbies belong to PBS &
> the BBC. Can you say: 'Ducks is only doing this for fun,
> don't sue?' I knew that you could...
TOM: Ducks is only doing this to give innocent children nightmares--
Aw, I couldn't do it.
> Dedication: To Scott, who knows how inconvenient it
> can be to have a cloud in the house...
MIKE: Remember, Cloud Trap-Springer, you mustn't
go beyond the land of the elven. Oh, and stop peeing
on the rug, too.
> Note: The idea for this fanfic is a funny
> story in itself.
CROW: I laugh every time I tell it. There I was, sitting above the
very spot where the old man lay dead, chatting with
the investigators, when I heard a muffled sound, as if
a pocket-watch muffled in cotton...it turned out to be
the beating of his _hideous heart!_
MIKE: Crow, could we maybe get an entire paragraph into the fanfic
before you take us to the Bad Place?
> I had one of the Burger King toys -
TOM: ...stuck in a very uncomfortable place.
CROW: What, like the back of a Volkswagen?
> Po, of course - hanging from the rearview mirror of
> Ducks' American Culture-Mobile (complete with Taco
> Bell's trusty talking Chihuahua on the dash, and a
> hanging Tick hang up).
CROW: And the Spear of Destiny, which I've got taped across
the dash...no more troubles with radar traps for me!
MIKE: Curse you, Ducks! How many pedestrians must die
because of your relentless pursuit of kitsch?!
TOM: Ducks is a good cop!
> Recently, I acquired the
> infamous "Cheezy looking pewter Buffy stake on a
> chain".
MIKE: As seen in "Indiana Jones and the Cheezy Looking Pewter Buffy
Stake on a Chain."
CROW: It belongs in a museum!
> Po's supporting rubber band melted in our
> particularly delightful summer swelter, so I figured
> a temporary solution would be to snap his little red
CROW: ...neck in my trembling, enraged hands like dry, rotten kindling!
> butt on the stake chain. Cool. Then, one afternoon,
> I did some banking with my particularly fearsome blue Bic,
TOM: And would you believe, me brothers, that I gave me old
malchick a right chock in the gulliver with my lovely
shiny-sharp!
> and alas, poor Po was scarred by the nasty writing
> implement -- a diagnonal slash across his sweet little
> eye.
CROW: So now Po looks like a Liefeld character?
TOM: Po dropped out of Teletubby society at that point and
began selling cocaine, sleeping with its sister and
muttering about us "say wewwo liwwle fewend."
> The stake, thankfully, hung helpfully about his neck,
> and Po the Vampire Slayer was born!
MIKE: A stake! It's an omen! I will become--A RAILROAD WORKER!
TOM: Hope you enjoyed my slack-ass internal rhyme scheme!
>
> *Lines surrounded by a single asterisk indicate that
> creepy know-it-all narrator speaking.*
MIKE: Yeah, I'm glad we don't have anything like that around here...
MAGIC VOICE: I can see you when you shower, Mike.
MIKE: Hey!
CROW: Well, so can we, but we're not braggin'.
MIKE: HEY!
> THIS IS NOT A CHILDRENS' STORY. Mainly because
> they won't get it.
TOM: And it would make them question the nature of reality.
> And the bunnies... well, you'll see...
CROW: And, on that very paper that had originally been such a
masterwork of compassion, he had scrawled on the
bottom "Exterminate the Hippity-Hoppity brutes!"
> One fine day in Teletubbyland, Po went for a
> ride on her scooter. She rode up and down the rolling
> paths, avoiding the hypno-whirlygigs and weaving
MIKE: ...in and out of traffic, shaking her pudgy little fists and
swigging out of a Mezcal bottle!
> in and out of the prolific Bunnizens of Teletubbyland.
> "Faster, Faster!" She cried happily! Then, "Slower, Slower!"
MIKE: Po's kinda manic-depressive that way.
CROW: She's mad, bad, and dangerous to Po!
TOM and MIKE look at him.
CROW: Look, _you_ try and get a literary reference in here!
> Suddenly, Po came upon a rather stuffy looking
> man in a tweed suit, sitting on a rock, reading, and
> looking very serious.
CROW: I mean, I was just trying to class this thing up a bit...the only stuff
_Tom_ reads is that dog-eared copy of "Welcome to the Monkey
House"...
TOM: Hey, I found _Harrison Bergeron_ very moving.
CROW: Vonnegut's a hack!
TOM: Oh, pardon _me_ Crow. By the way, did I mention your copy of 'Babes
and Bikes' turned up in the Maitenance Bay?
> "Wassat?" Po asked, pointing at the studious
> gentleman.
MIKE: This is Giles. Or call him by his Sioux name, "Wears Lots of Tweed."
> *That's a Watcher, Po. His name is Mr. Giles.*
> "Wacha? Guy-ews?"
MIKE: Tas-tahs Choys?
CROW: Oh, yeah, that joke _never_ gets old, Mike.
> *That's right, Po.*
> Po rode her scooter around and around the
> Watcher, wondering whatever he could be for.
CROW: Exposition, mostly.
MIKE: He also makes a damn fine hostage!
>Then, Giles noticed Po, and jumped from his seat.
TOM: [Giles] AHHHH! A HIDEOUS MUTATION OF ALL THINGS GOOD!
> "Ah, Good, Po!" said the Watcher, "I'm glad I
> found you!"
CROW: [Giles] It spares me the trouble of hunting you down!
> Po cocked her head curiously. "I have
> been sent to find you, for you have a great destiny.
MIKE: You refer to the prophecy of the ones who will bring
nausea and discontent to the audience?
> You are the chosen one. The one girl in all the world
> who can fight the vampires and the forces of darkness!"
> said the Watcher.
CROW: Plus, your stomach-turning freakishness is a real hit with
West German art-critics and compulsive mescaline addicts!
You're like a hallucination from a William Burroughs/Hunter
Thompson road-trip come to hideous life!
> Po cocked her head the other way.
> "Dessinnee?" she asked.
CROW: Mo ezzcapin' dat fu mee!
MIKE: But was it Calvin--or perhaps it was Kyle Reese--who said that there
is no fate but what we make for ourselves? The fundamenetal dichotomies
of the--uh...I mean, "goo."
TOM: And while we're asking questions, who's Toyah Wilcox?
> "That's right!" said the Watcher, pulling a
> big, pointy stake from the pocket of his patchy-sleeved
CROW: ...poofy pirate shirt.
> blazer, "This is for you --
MIKE: Now DIE, accursed thing!
TOM: [Branagh] These--are for YOU!!
> to help you fulfill your
> sacred duty!" He offered the pointy stake to Po.
> Po eagerly dumped her scooter and pointed at
> the stake.
CROW: Uh...heh heh...usually it turns into a snake now...just a
second...
> "Whassat?" she asked.
> *That is a stake, Po.*
> "A sake?" she asked.
CROW: Stake! STAKE! Geez, for a chosen one, you're a real doorknob,
aren'tcha?
> *That's right, Po. It is for turning blood
> sucking demons into dust.*
MIKE: Ah wew shu eww feah en a wandful ove duuhs!
TOM: ...a wandful ove duuhs? What?
MIKE: A wandful ove duuhs.
TOM: Wandful ove...Sand full of ducks?
MIKE: Forget it.
> Po jumped up and down, grabbing the stake and
> prancing away, singing a song about bud- sucking.
CROW: Come back later, kids...it gets a little blue at this point.
> The Watcher took up the scooter and rode away.
MIKE: But dread Galactus still sought to consume the Earth, and no
mere...what _are_ these Teletubby things, anyway? Industrial accidents?
Genetic mutations?
CROW: I always assumed that they were previously out-of-work actors with
slightly less dignity than porn stars.
TOM: And smaller genitalia.
MIKE looks at the bots and shakes his head wearily.
> Later, it was long past normal TubbyByeBye,
> and Po was out patrolling the Teletubby graveyard.
TOM: What the _Hell?_ They have a _graveyard?_
MIKE: Hey, this proves my theory! They _can_ die! Where'd I leave
that chainsaw...?
CROW: Big bad voodoo Po!
> She danced and sang her bud-sucking song, until she
TOM: Joined the Cranberries?
> came upon a man, dressed in a long black velvet coat,
> sitting on a gravestone, looking very sad.
TOM: Aw, I guess sales on Neverwhere dropped, huh, Neil?
MIKE: Well, in his defense, he _is_ shatteringly handsome and the star
of his own television show, so you can see why...hey, wait a minute!
CROW: For the love of God, Montressor!
> "Wassat?" Po asked.
> *That is Angel, Po.*
> " Angoe? He look sad..." Po said.
TOM: Angoe? Angoe? Mother of God, you mumbling freak, would you please
just pronounce one damned word correctly!?!
MIKE: Jeez, Tom, relax a little.
> * That's right, Po. He is a vampire. He is
> brooding.*
MIKE: It's not that he can't act! Really! He's BROODING.
> "Wassa matta?" Po asked.
> "I am tortured because I have murdered
> hundreds of people in cold blood." said Angel.
TOM: And because I _still_ can't beat Final Fantasy 7.
> "Mahdah?" Po asked.
CROW: Raahly now, daahling, mahdah simply isn't done!
> Angel nodded sullenly.
> "Bud-sucking?" Po asked.
CROW: David Boreanaz guests stars on a very special Married with Children.
> Angel nodded again. "Plus, I'm in love with a
> human girl 1/20th my age." he added.
MIKE: Actually, I think that's division.
TOM: Ooooh. You die for that one.
> "Jaew Bait?" Po asked.
CROW: Sine Fell?
> *That's right, Po. Angel is old enough to be
> her distant ancestor.*
TOM: Hell, for all we know, he _is_ her ancient ancestor!
> "Angoe bad." Po said sadly, and plunged her
> pointy stake right into his heart. The sad, bud-
> sucking, cradle-robbing vampire turned to a nasty
> grey dust.
CROW: Saaaaaay! Maybe this won't be so bad after all!
MIKE: Yeah, but if you whack Angel, who gets a spinoff?
TOM: The Spike and Drusilla Show, maybe?
> "Achoo!" said Po, "Ah-gone!"
> And Po danced away down the path.
TOM: You can see that the responsibility of the job really weighs on her...
MIKE: I'm sensing a narrative device here...
TOM: Go ahead, scare me more, already.
CROW: Mike, this is hardly _Jude The Obscure._ More
like _Po The Obtuse._
> A little while later, Po came upon a beautiful
> girl with long brown hair, who was fixing her mascara
> in the reflection of the wading pool.
CROW: Natalie Portman?! Cool!
> "Bud sucker?" asked Po.
> The evil MoonBaby up above snickered.
MIKE: ...there's an evil MoonBaby?
TOM: And this STILL isn't as creepy as the actual show.
CROW: Disturbed yet, kids? Don't worry, we'll break you yet! Look!
That vacuum cleaner is alive! There's a hideous face on the sun!
REALITY IS DUKKHA! Just keep watching your Teletubby _soma_
and it'll all be okay...
MIKE: Okay, that's the last time I buy the Aldous Huxley happy meal for you,
Crow!
> *No, Po. That's Cordelia. She is a Space Cadet
> and a fashion slave.*
> "Fasson slay?" Po asked.
> "Duh!" said Cordelia, "I mean, look at me!
CROW: Don't mind if I do! Do you mind if I take pictures? Oh,
and please pour this Wesson Oil on your breasts?
TOM: Mike, aren't you going to stop this?
MIKE: Huh? Oh, uh, yeah...Crow...what kind of oil again? Can
it be warm oil...ooh, yeah...
CROW: God, Mike, stop it! You're creeping me out!
> Although, I don't imagine you'd know a hot look if it
> kicked you in your rather ample, felt-clad, butt!"
> "Beeitch!" Po said happily.
CROW: [rapping] Now if I'm poor or rich, I walk at the exact same pitch--
MIKE: Hey hey HEY! No NWA in the theater!
CROW: Aw, c'mon, Mike, I just wanted to...EXPRESS MYSELF!
MIKE: NO!
> *That's right, Po. Cordelia is a self-absorbed
> megalomaniac.*
CROW: Kill her before she annexes the Sudetenland, Po!
TOM: (In his best Cordelia voice) So, kill all my enemies using famine and
winter...then go shopping for shoes!
> "Meggomanyak?" Po said, and danced on down the lane.
MIKE: Yes, she likes to build space-ships with small, colorful bricks painted
to resemble dictators!
> Soon she came upon a cute red-headed girl, who
> sat on a rock, petting a bunny with one hand, and
> clicking the keys on a laptop computer with the
> other.
CROW: Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I know who this is!
> "Wassat?" Po asked.
CROW: That's the funk queen of the universe, missy,
and don't you forget it!
MIKE: We're not starting THAT again!
> "I'm Willow." said the girl.
> "Wiwow?" Po asked.
> *That's right, Po. Willow is a computer
> gee...genius. And A Witch!*
TOM: Now even the creepy narrator is a cretin. Great...
> "Wiss?" Po asked.
> "Well, kind of." Willow said, "I'm still
> learning..."
MIKE: I'm Willow! Pleased to be here! Got a little spell to cast for you,
like to see it here it goes!
> With that, Willow turned her laptop toward Po,
> and the movie sound began to come from it. Po rubbed
> her tummy as the PC Projector began to play a
> movie on it.
TOM: Unfortunately, that movie was Eight Millimeter...
MIKE: Hey.
TOM: What?! Eight Millimeter wasn't very good. That's all I'm saying.
> The opening sequence of BtVS appeared on the
> little screen, with Po's picture in the Slayer's
> place. The Tweed Watcher's voice said:
MIKE: Wouldn't you like a nice Taster's Choice coffee?
Much better than that sour 'International' garbage, and
our love story had depth and passion!
TOM: Yes! Every month, you'll wonder "Who _are_ these people?"
CROW: Guys, the dead horse is now stripped of all its skin...let it go.
> "In each generation, there is a chosen one.
> She alone will stand against the vampires, the
> demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer..."
> and the theme music played,
CROW: South of Heaven?
> showing scenes of
> Po's heroic deeds battling the forces of darkness.
TOM: Wow! Look at the way she sits there and wiggles that stick in front
of her face! And the way she fiercely wanders around in the
bushes muttering to herself...wow! What a warrior!
CROW: Thank God she's on our side...so that we can toss her to the
vampires and run, anyway.
> Po jumped up and down happily.
> "Again! Again!" said Po.
> The scene played again, and Po and Willow
> boogied down to the funky Nerf Herder theme song.
> When it was finished, Po waved to Willow, who of course
> waved back, and skipped happily down the path.
CROW: Well, on the one hand, I just got to see the lissome
miss Willow cavort in the woods. On the other, the image of
Po trying to shake her groove thing makes me want to swallow
the end of a Remington 10 Gauge shotgun and pull the trigger.
TOM: So you're torn, then?
>
> Just then, she came to a boy, sitting at a
> picnic table littered with empty bowls
TOM: Empty bowls, huh? That is pretty much the only
way to watch Teletubbies...
MIKE: [stoner] Dude, you gotta see this. The sun's a baby
and they live in a spaceship...
> and Tubby
> Toast crumbs. He was wolfing down yet another bowl
> of Tubby custard.
TOM: "Custard" meaning "offal" in Tubbyese.
> "Wassat?" Po asked.
> *That is Xander.*
> "Zandah?"
CROW: Dumm-ass?
> *That's right. He's the resident zeppo,
> snack-getter...and, uh...eater, and the jokester.*
> "Joksah?" Po asked.
CROW: Yeah, he kinda is the Joxer of this show.
TOM & MIKE: HEY!
> "Hey!" snapped Xander, "I'll have you know
> that Zeppo was a very important part of the the...
> heeyyyy... you know, you're quite the hotty..."
> *Xander...*
TOM: What Xander didn't know is that we replaced
his tubby custard with...oh, the hell with this!
I'm not doing a Viagra joke after the courage
and honor displayed by Bob Dole, that brave
son of a bitch!
[MIKE and CROW look at him.]
> "Look at those eyes!" He gushed at Po, "That
> red felt skin! The TV in her tummy! That stake..."
> Xander nearly salivated.
ALL: AHHHHHHHHH!
TOM: So, Mike, you never told us all decency was dead.
MIKE: It's not! [looks again] Although apparently it's
not feeling very well...
> "Ewww!" said Po, and pranced away.
MIKE: You sar it!
> It was getting close to dawn. The evil moon
> baby yawned. As Po danced down the path, holding
> her pointy stake, she started to see mutilated bunny
> corpses littering the green fields.
CROW: AHHHHH! JEEZ!
MIKE: Dead bunnies aren't much fun!
TOM: When did this become a Heironymous Bosch painting?
> "Wassat?" Po asked, plugging her nose against
> the horrible smell of decay.
TOM: Wait a minute. Does she even have a nose in that
monkey face of hers?
CROW: And, judging by the fecal matter these people make
week in and week out, I doubt the smell of decay'd
really bug her that much...
> *Those are mutilated bunny corpses.*
> "Mooteyated bunnee copsis?"
MIKE: Sorry. "Mutilated bunny corpses" isn't cute no matter how you
mispronounce it.
CROW: Apparently we've crossed over with an episode of
The X-Files as well, Po.
TOM: I told you people, it all comes back to porn.
> *That's right. It looks like they were eaten!*
> "Ewwww!" said Po.
> Suddenly, the Watcher came out from behind a
> nearby tree, against which
CROW: ...he held an ancient vendetta. It would be blood and sap
between these two, and soon.
> the scooter was parked. He was reading a big
> book with the words, "Ye Olde Mysterees" on the cover.
MIKE: Ye Olde Scoobee-Doo Mysterees?
> "Po! Good! I'm glad you are here. All of the
> Tubby Bunnies seem to be disappearing across Teletubbyland. It seems
> some carnivorous beast is devouring them for their pleasing tubby
> goodness.
TOM: I never dreamed I'd hear you say "pleasing tubby goodness" and
mean it, Sam!
CROW: You're a demonic imp, Max.
> I suggest you follow the trail of bodies and find out
> what foul fiend is perpetrating this evil deed!"
> Po looked at him in bewilderment. "Puppatwaiting
> evew deed?" she asked.
CROW: Read a book!
> "Eh... that is... find out who's eating the
> bunnies!" Giles clarified.
MIKE: I think you'll probably have to break it down a bit more than
that, Giles.
TOM: Remember, _one_ syllable.
> "Ohhhhh." Po said, and skipped on down the
> trail.
CROW: Hippity hoppity, evil's on its way.
> The sun was almost up when Po found a giant
> wolf standing on two legs, chowing down on a Tubby Bunny.
> "Doggie?" Po asked.
> *RUN, PO, RUN!!!*
MIKE: See Po Run!
> But before Po could run, the wolf began to
> change. In just a moment, a naked boy with pointy
> red hair stood where the monster had been, two
> fistfuls of bloody bunny corpses in his hands.
MIKE: (singing) Bloody bunny corpses...Bloody bunny corpses...in your hands...
CROW: Then he began rubbing himself in his secret places, forgetting even
that he was holding them...
TOM: MY MIND IS ON FIRE!
> "Huh." said the boy, "Chewy."
TOM: Mmmm...beefy.
> "Wassat?" Po asked.
> *That's Oz.*
> "Oz?" Po asked. "Doggie?"
> *Oz is a werewolf.*
CROW: And a VERY BAD MAN!
MIKE: Oh, here we go...
CROW: WHO HOPS INTO THE SACK WITH ANY WEREWOLF FLOOZY THAT COMES ALONG!
TOM: Crow, they had to write Seth Green out of the show somehow...
CROW: He'll get his. Oh, yes. He'll get his.
> "Oh." said Po, who didn't know what a warewoof
> was.
TOM: Or a moose, or public decency, or elucidation, or correct spelling
and grammar, or any redeeming educational content...she was
pretty much worthless. Get her, Oz!
CROW: Rip, rip, RIP AND DESTROY!
> "Yup. That's me." said Oz, turning and walking
> away, unabashedly naked.
MIKE: Wait! Come back! Teletubby tastes just like chicken!
Really stupid chicken!
> Suddenly, the hypno-whirlygigs began to hum
> and sputter.
> "Time for Tubby Bye Bye! Time for Tubby Bye
> Bye! Time for Tubby Bye Bye!"
MIKE: A low whine filled the air as the _Enola Gay_ circled over that weird
flying saucer house they lived in...
> "Awww." said Po, and trotted back toward the
> Tubbytronic Superdome.
CROW: Cheap Trick toured with Tubbytronic Superdome, didn't they?
MIKE: I saw Skid Row at the Tubbytronic Superdome...
> Near the hideyhole where the Tubbies came in
> and out, Po met the other Teletubbies, who were just getting up.
> "Po!" They all said excitedly, and ran to hug
> her.
TOM: But Po forgot who they were and staked the lot of them!
> "Wassat?" They asked, pointing to Po's stake.
> "Sake. Sake fo saying bud-suckas. Po chosen
> one." Po said matter-of-factly.
CROW: As opposed to her usual fulsome Chris Buckley-esque
prosodic monologues about Yale and manhood.
> "Sake! Bud-suckas! Chosen One!" the other
> Tubbies cried, giggling.
TOM: Yes, Sake! The number-one drink of bitter Japanese salariman
whose livers are as burned out as their screaming, horror-crushed
minds.
MIKE: Isha o yonde kudasai; nihongo de this is a horrible, horrible
fanfic wado iimasu ka!
THE BOTS look at Mike in wonder.
> Po hugged her stake proudly, then jumped down
> the hole.
TOM: Po go down the hoooooole.
> As the sun begins to rise, Po the Vampire
> Slayer says bye bye!
MIKE: For the play is the tragedy ...whatever those teletubby things are
supposed to be...and its hero the Conqueror Stick!
> Until the moon rises tomorrow night, when Po
> wields her stake to make things right.
CROW: Some human memories and tearful lore,
render her terrorless; her name's a bore.
She is that cretin teletubby; dread her not!
No power hath she of cognition in herself
But merely drains that which others got.
TOM: Uhm...that was actually pretty good, Crow.
CROW: How would _you_ know? You couldn't even finish _Galapagos,_
you illiterate cretin.
TOM: That's it. I'm keeping your copy of 'T&A.'
CROW: I'm sorry.
> When the evil MoonBaby rises, darkness walks,
> but the Chosen One never balks!
CROW: Here's a little story I got to tell about three bad
brothas you know so well!
MIKE: It started way back in History, with Crow T., Tommy
S., and me, Mikey!
> Be it the Master, Trick or Spike, Po battles
> evil with all her might!
TOM: We read these fanfics all day and night! We smack them
down with comedic might!
CROW: We all get funky and break out fat riffs! We only get
scared when we read Ratliff!
> When the shiny day is done, it's time to
> remember: There can be only one!
TOM: (In best Lance Henrickson voice) Help me gather up these Pumpkinheads!
MIKE: You know, that was weird, but was it really any stranger than a guy in
a nun suit getting shot and killed by a naked Lara Flynn Boyle?
> * * *
> I'd love your feedback! Email me at
> slayinsage@buffymail.com, or drop by my site,
> Ducks' Fanfic at http://fly.to/ducksfanfic for more!
CROW: I like ducks. Ducks are good.
MIKE: Nothin' wrong with ducks.
CROW: So what's next?
TOM: The coming attractions.
>>> Forum: alt.startrek.creative
>
>>> Thread: Marrissa Stories, Upcoming
MIKE: Stories? Plural? Oh, saints preserve us...
>Subject:Marrissa Stories, Upcoming
CROW: (as Miguel Ferrer) In a world where a power-crazed strip of a girl
holds the key to the power of life and death...
> Date:1999/10/21
> Author:Stephen Ratliff <stephenratliff@crosswinds.net>
CROW: [sings] You are the crosswinds.net beneath my wings...
> Posting History
CROW: It is a dark time for the Rebellion. Stephen Ratliff has abolished
the Senate...
> In just a few minutes I'll be posting a new Marrissa Story,
> Winning Love by Daylight.
MIKE: And the fear in here is palpable, let me tell you.
> However, some people have asked for
> what I'm working on.
TOM: ...so they can start building bunkers, stockpiling groceries...
> So I present these teasers.
CROW: Shouldn't that be "taunters"?
> The following trailer is rated [PG-13].
> The story is rated [NC-17].
[An eerie silence.]
MIKE: ...NC-17. An NC-17 Ratliff fanfic.
TOM: Maybe...uh...Clerks! Yes! Clerks got an NC-17 for language!
He's developed Tourette's syndrome, that's all! Tee hee!
CROW: Our little Stevie is all grown up, gang.
> M & M
TOM: Hi! My name is--
MIKE: What?
TOM: My name is--
MIKE: Who?
TOM: My name is--
MIKE: Steve Ratliff!
CROW: Isn't M&M just two people standing around waiting for
someone to bring the pain?
> I guess that could work. As for M & M, I can't find a scene
> that encapsulates the premise.
MIKE: Considering some of the premises he's served up in the past,
this must be a whopper.
TOM: An NC-17 premise that he can't encapsulate? Oh, we are so
DOOMED!
> I've created a "trailer" that
> might do the trick. Tell me what you think:
MIKE: I think I'm more afraid than I've ever been in my entire life.
CROW: Oh, unclench. So he's gonna show us Marrissa and Jay doing
the nasty. Big deal.
TOM: How can you be so calm?!
CROW: Look, I'm sure Ratliff will handle sex among the Kid--uh,
the Twentysomething's Crew with maturity...
> The doors opened and Jean-Luc turned his head to see
> who had come in. It was a boy in his early teens who was, to
> Picard's surprise, completely naked.
CROW: ...or maybe not.
TOM: _Wow_. Well, there's a pile of rocks outside yer tent.
> "Welcome home, Dad. May I ask why you returned early?" the youth inquired.
MIKE: [Picard] Never mind that, nature boy, may _I_ ask why you're
not wearing your loincloth?
TOM: [Picard] And don't point that thing at me. It might go off.
CROW: [Picard] No, Michael Jackson's room is down the hall.
> ********
>
> He sighed. "I know, there's no other way to explain
> the differences between this Enterprise and the one I left."
MIKE: Oh, the parallel universe boogie!
> "Like the fact that Marcus is a girl."
TOM: [Scots] A silk-wearin' poodle-walker! A blouse-wearin' buttercup!
> Jean-Luc frowned. "Her name is Marrissa, and I'll thank you
> to call her that."
CROW: Uhhh...Mike, could you put me in the fetal position? I'm
gonna gibber mindlessly.
MIKE: Fe...male...guh...guh...
CROW: Oh, you've got it covered. Okay, I'll just weep then...
[begins sobbing]
TOM: It's okay! Hee hee! It'll be okay if we all just SING!
[singing desperately] Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...
> ********
>
> "Marcus, we've run out of room in Sickbay, so I need
> you to take the other you to your quarters." she informed him.
MIKE: Oh, sweet gallopin' Fidel Castro eating a unicycle, I beg
you not to do this...
> Marcus smiled. Having a female version of himself
> sharing his quarters could be quite enjoyable.
TOM: [more desperate] Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens...
CROW: Nononononono...
> ********
>
> "And what is this I hear about you and Marcus having
> intercourse and living in the same quarters?"
ALL: AHHHHHHHH!
TOM: [even more desperate] Brown paper packages tied up
with MARRISSA GETTING HER FREAK ON WITH HER MALE CLONE!
AHHHHH! AHHHHH!
CROW: GOD IS DEAD! AND STEPHEN RATLIFF KILLED HIM!
MIKE: THE HORROR! THE HORROR! EXTERMINATE ALL THE BRUTES!
> the Captain
> asked, turning a penetrating stare on his adopted daughter.
MIKE: DON'T SAY PENETRATING! *sobs*
CROW: I _KNEW_ SOMEONE WAS GONNA BRING THE PAIN!
> "We are sharing the same quarters, because that's
> where I'm assigned," Marrissa said.
TOM: And that's where THE UNHOLY FLESH UNION OCCURS! AHHHHHHH!
> "As for having sex,
> that's none of your business."
MIKE: YES IT IS! STOP THEM! STOP THEM NOW!
TOM: [between sobs] But I like to watch...
> M & M by Rotwieller and Ratliff, coming to ASC sometime this
> Winter (I hope)
MIKE: RATLIFF! RATLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF!
TOM: AND ROTWIELLERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
CROW: Just in time for Christmas, too...YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!
> The following preview is rated [G]
> The story is currently rated [G]
MIKE: "G"! It's "G"! Oh, thank God...
CROW: I don't like it! What if he means "G-Spot?"
TOM: Oh, what a shame. Won't Alexander be involved in a twisted
extradimensional gang-bang?
CROW: Tom, you shouldn't say gang-bang. You should say orgy.
> Endeavor's Beginning
TOM: Beginning to what? Beginning to cozy up to its naked,
adolescent dimensional clone?!
MIKE: Easy...
> Clara enjoyed an occasional shift in the center seat.
CROW: [falsetto] Oooh! _There's_ the spot!
> She
> hadn't had a shift before on the Endeavor.
TOM: She should try some bran muffins.
MIKE: _Shift_.
> But on the
> Enterprise, where she had served just two months ago, she
> regularly spent a shift a week in the center seat. This was
CROW: When she first noticed Ensign Multon's eye. It was inordinately
large, with a thin blue film over it, and it stared off unfocused
and terrible. Soon, Clara became convinced that it was
staring at her...
> the first time Captain Katsuragi had left the Senior Assistant
> Chief Engineer in command. The Command Crew was attending a
MIKE: ...production of "Starlight Vocal Band Mania!" Not the Starlight
Vocal Band, but an incredible simulation!
> banquet on the planet below and Katsuragi wanted to leave the
> person with the most command experience in command.
TOM: So he left one of Marrissa's kill-crazy friends in charge. Problem solved!
> The people of Tuposakyo Sefriese VI were not the most open of
> people.
MIKE: They insisted on keeping their organs inside their bodies.
CROW: Selfish bastards!
> They had to follow a precise course into the system.
> A deviation of just a meter earned them a stern warning.
CROW: A spanking! Yes, we must all have a good spanking!
TOM: After that last promo, all I can think about is... *sob* Nothing
will ever be good again! What kind of a world do we live in
where spanking and bondage outfits take on such negative
connotations?
MIKE: Forget it, Tom. It's Ratlifftown.
> The
> whole outer system was mined. Not just standard mines.
CROW: These were those special mines, the kind you'll remember.
> There
> were laser mines, nuclear mines, gravity mines, and plasma
> mines.
TOM: And Enemy Mines, and Baby Mines, and Mine Mine Mines...
> It was a very well defended world with planetary
> defenses rivaling many of the most paranoid races in the
> Quadrant. That is the outer defenses were. No weapons were
> around the planet itself. Clara found that strange.
MIKE: Why, with this mere pointed stick, I could become a GOD!
CROW: [Clara] Why do they not lust for blood the way we do?
> Any way, being in command, Clara could make sure some of her
> priorities got followed.
MIKE: Which explains why twenty redshirts have been killed in
the quest for the perfect Waffle House so far...
> Not many, it wasn't her ship to
> command, but sometimes a little extra attention here or there
> could help get things done. "Ensign Reinhardt, how are the
> deflector improvements coming?" Clara asked.
TOM: Well, say what you will, but at least no one's doing...you know...
the bad thing so far.
> "They should be on line ... now," Reinhardt responded.
CROW: No, wait...now. NO! Just a sec...okay, NOW! No, NOW! No...
> "Analyst of results?" Clara asked.
TOM: [Freud] These deflector improvements wish they had a wang, a
pleasure-staff, a wee-wee...you know, a penis.
MIKE: Look, Tom, I think you're obsessing over that whole...horrible,
just horrible...(shakes head) anyway, stop with the smut!
> "We have a ten percent increase in over all efficiency and a
> five percent increase in available power, sir," Reinhardt
> said. "Lieutenant Sutter," the tactical officer interrupted.
CROW: So she smashed a black-gloved hand into his face. "NEVER
QUESTION MY ORDERS!"
> "We have a hail from the planet sir. They are informing us
> that the Captain and the Command crew are dead and are
> requesting our surrender."
TOM: But if not, then that's, y'know, okay.
> There were only two words to sum up this from the new Acting
> Captain of the Endeavor.
ALL: Bite Me.
> "Oh Hell."
TOM: Close enough.
CROW: So, in other words, never...ever..._EVER_ leave anyone who even
_KNOWS_ Marrissa in charge of your spaceship, or you will die.
MIKE: Being friends with Marrissa must be like being one of Thorn's pals
from those James Hall books...
TOM: James Hall?
MIKE: Carl Hiaasen without the wackiness.
>
> Endeavor's Beginning by Stephen Ratliff
> coming to ASC next year
CROW: 06-30-00! Get ready for the ride of your life!
> The following preview is rated [G]
> The story is rated [G]
MIKE: So, he slips us the porn and then lobs us two slowballs...I'm frightened.
>
> Royal and Prime Directives
TOM: Ah, direct _this_.
> Prince Avery, son of King Robert of Ellosia, was riding among
CROW: Hey, it's Hawk from Spenser for Hire!
MIKE: Wrong Avery.
> the fields of Suppor.
CROW: Located just past the fields of Lonch, and far from the
vast pastured of Brek-fust!
> They were part of the Earldom which he
> held title to, as heir to the throne, not that the job meant
> much.
MIKE: Hey, looks like Ratliff finally realized that the British
royal family are figureheads! See, guys? We'll be okay!
BOTS: Hmmmph.
> His father always told him that there would be a time
> when he'd wish he still was just the heir. As Avery saw it,
TOM: It was time for daddy to get out of the picture!
> being Crown Prince had very little to recommend it.
CROW: But you do get a bunch of purple guitars and a fine
selection of assless pants!
> He was
> expected to know everything his father knew, but could do
> nothing about it. He had no choice in his eventual bride.
MIKE: Indeed, he was to marry a woman from another dimension,
a female version of himself!
> Though he preferred the oldest daughter of the Duchess of
> Castrume. Unfortunately, the thirteen year-old Lady was not
> considered high on the list for the sixteen year old Prince.
CROW: And that's STILL not the ickiest thing we've seen today!
> The Duchess had little influence in court, while the other
> Dukes, who had been around since his Father took the throne,
MIKE: ...spent their time tooling around in the General Lee,
and avoiding Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane.
> did. The Dukes were putting forward various foreign
MIKE: Objects.
TOM: The Duke of Dunglease's got a chair! OW! He's just
rammed that steel chair down on the Iron Shiek's head!
> Princesses. The Duke of Armedge had suggested Princess
> Clotilda of Janvart, a hulk of a woman who some said slept in
TOM: ...ragged purple pants.
> full armor. The Duke of Avtra was always spouting the merits
> of Princess Fay of Grimall.
MIKE: Ah, just think about baseball next time.
> Avery had met Princess Fay,
> during a peace negotiation a couple years back. The fragile
CROW: bones of her skull shattered easily after he'd picked up that shovel...
> health of the tiny little girl would never survive the sea
> voyage across the straights of Astra, much less the month long
> journey from her home, besides, she was too quiet for his
TOM: rock and roll band, The Screaming Catfish!
THE BOTS rock out to the Metallica song 'Don't tread on me!'
MIKE: Stop that!
> tastes. The Duke of Fasstime was set on Avery's marriage to
> Queen Kaitlin of Dinath. The match with someone three times
> his age was not something he wanted to dwell on.
MIKE: My God, this kid's picky. He doesn't want a strong wife, he doesn't
want a fragile wife, or a young wife, or an older wife.
CROW: Maybe the problem is he doesn't want a _wife_ at all. Maybe he
wants to _be_ the wife...
> There were times when Avery wished his father had never chosen
> to take the throne.
TOM: He'd rather...just...SING!
> Avery sighed, it wasn't likely that
> another starship would crash and her crew take over.
TOM: Don't be so sure, kid.
> He
> looked up to see the first star of the night rising ... it was
> time to head back to Odyssey.
CROW: It little profits that a whiny prince,
In this stale fanfic, written by this hack,
Matched with a horde of wives, he moans and cries
Unequal complaints about this savage state,
That whines, and bleats, and sobs, and knows not pride.
> Royal and Prime Directives by Stephen Ratliff
> Coming to ASC Next Year
MIKE: If you can't stand the Ratliff, get out of the universe!
> All dates subject to change.
> Encouragement and offers to beta read cheerful accepted.
TOM: Does "Stop Writing" count?
> It might
> even speed up the arrival of the stories.
CROW: Oh, good. He's going to speed up the arrival...of...the stories...
(breaks down in tears.)
MIKE: A male version of Marrissa prancing about in the raw...
*shudder* Forget that Blair Witch crap. THAT's fear!
> Now on to our feature presentation:
[The Bots make the THX sound.]
MIKE: RATLIFF. The audience is extremely uneasy.
> Winning Love by Daylight
>
> Rated [PG]
CROW: Pretty Grody.
MIKE: Pain, Great.
TOM: Pert Gynecologist. [off their look] I can't help it, all right?
> Stephen Ratliff
> --
> Stephen Ratliff
TOM: He spins a web, giant sized!
CROW: He catches bad guys just like flies!
>
> stephenratliff@crosswinds.net
> Personal Works:
CROW: Hmm...I see here on your resume that you list
'The Death of Hope' and 'The Despair of
the Multitudes' as your personal works.
TOM: I think we can use you here at Microsoft...
>
> http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff/works
TOM: But not very well!
>
> "Shayna, how is it that three aliens attack us with phaser
> fire, not triggering a single one of your
> traps and then, after I have you remove
> them all, Captain Picard gets hit with a fruit?"
MIKE: That Shayna's an imp, she is.
>
> - Marrissa, "The Field Trip"
>
TOM: Enough previews. C'mon, let's take a break.
[Everyone exits, singing "Let's All Go To The Lobby."]
[1...2...3...4...5...6...7]
[SOL. Mike is in the background knitting. Steve is standing in between
Crow & Tom.]
STEVE: You're tired. You're frustrated. I understand that. But I
can show you the way to true enlightenment.
TOM: So beating the crap out of Crow is the way to true enlightenment?
I shoulda been enlightened way before now!
CROW: Keep talkin', fireplug. I'm gonna mess up that pretty dome
of yours!
STEVE: Hey, hey! This is not about hating the other guy, fellas.
It's about unleashing your inner savage and changing things.
MIKE: I am Mike's quivering sphincter.
[The BOTS look at him.]
CROW: You say somethin', Mike?
STEVE: All right, we're just about ready to go. Just one more
touch...
[Steve reaches below the desk and comes up with two Stephen Ratliff
masks. He puts them on the bots.]
STEVE: There ya go! So do you feel the need to unleash the--
BOTS: YAHHHHHHH!
[The BOTS start smacking the living crap out of each other.]
TOM: Saracen pig! Spartan dog! Take this!
CROW: This is for the end of "The Only Constant!"
STEVE: ...Yeah, I thought you might. And we've got commercial sign.
You wanna get that, Mike?
[Mike hits the sign.]
[Commercials. Alexander Siddig and some guy named Stu star in the Sci-Fi
original movie DODECAHEDRON! It's the shape of your DOOM!]
[Theater.]
MIKE: Boy, Tom, you really went to town in there.
TOM: Yeah, I felt like destroying something beautiful. But smacking
Crow around will do.
>
>Winning Love by Daylight
CROW (Singing): Searching for my lost shaker of salt...
>Prologue
MIKE: Here comes comedy! Giganto cancer causing laffs!
TOM: Prepare for action! Hot, sweet and filthy!
CROW: On your knees, undeserving bastards! Ratliff has arrived!
>
> The bridge of the Enterprise was dimmer than usual.
MIKE: Worf kept bumping into things. Luckily, Geordi was there to kiss his
forehead and make him some delicious Campbell's soup.
CROW: Give it up, Mike. No one else read Heaven's Shroud.
> Marrissa sat in the
>center seat. The red alert siren began, but the typical bustle that
>accompanied it was not there, for all the crew was Borg. Even Marrissa was
>Borg.
TOM: Everyone is Borg, Marrissa. Marrissa, everyone is Borg. Borg, Marrissa,
everyone is.
CROW: [Marrissa] Wait...are you trying to tell me everyone's Borg?
> In a monotone voice, Shayna announced, "Intruders on all decks."
TOM: Gee, the Borg. Yet more human propaganda about us mechanical beings.
Like we even _want_ to assimilate you guys.
CROW: Except for Willow.
TOM: And Gillian Anderson.
CROW: And Yasmeen Bleeth.
MIKE: And Shania Twain.
THE BOTS stare at him in horror.
MIKE: Come on! She's hot.
CROW: Yes, but we can never _admit_ that. That makes us weak, simpering
country music fans, like you.
> A Star Fleet Officer beamed into the middle of the room.
MIKE: He was a really happy guy.
> In the dim
>light, Marrissa could not identify the officer.
TOM: Yeah, like she could remember anyone she's stepped on during her
maniacal climb to power.
> The Star Fleet Officer
>opened fire. Alexander was vaporized.
CROW: [Alexander] But I don't wanna be a warr--AHHHHHHHH!
> The light of his destruction
>momentarily revealed the Officer's face. It was Marrissa.
TOM: There's a surprise. Marrissa doing something evil. Never
would have expected that.
MIKE: I'm choking to death on the irony.
> Marrissa-borg
>could do nothing as Marrissa-Star Fleet took down each of her remaining
>friends in turn. First was her sister Jackie, the
CROW: ...up and coming variety show star and humorous vaudevillian.
> young computer genius
>who wanted to follow Marrissa's footsteps.
MIKE: And since those footsteps were marked in blood, they were pretty
easy to follow...
> Lynn followed, the young girl
>turned Star Fleet pilot vaporized at her post.
TOM: When Starfleet regulations _clearly_ state that if you're gonna
vaporize, do it in the privacy of your quarters!
> Shayna, the friend and
>practical joker who had been keeping Marrissa laughing for years, was
TOM: ...busy taping a whoopee-cushion to the borg-queen throne, and
missed the whole thing.
>blasted back from her tactical station. Clara, Marrissa's friend and
>confidant, was next to go.
MIKE: Oddly enough, Isabella slipped away in all the confusion.
> Finally Jay, all vaporized and Marrissa could
>do nothing but scream, as each blast illuminated the laughing face of
>Marrissa-Star Fleet.
CROW: So, in other words, a Borg version of Marrissa is more empathetic and
kinder than the human version?
TOM: Sounds about right.
MIKE: Um, is it okay for me to be enjoying this?
> She woke up, safe in her husband's arms.
CROW: And kept screaming.
> "Another nightmare, Marrissa?"
>Jay asked.
TOM: [Marrissa) No thanks, I just had one.
CROW: I wonder what tipped the human Q-Tip off?
MIKE: I dreamed I had normal human emotions! Those damn Borg made me care!
I WILL DESTROY THEM ALL!
> Marrissa wanted to deny it but couldn't.
MIKE: Gonna have to face it, she'd addicted to Borg.
> She wanted the comfort of her
>husband's embrace, he would not let her deny what she had gone though. She
>nodded.
TOM: Wow. It turns out Marrissa has a soul after all.
MIKE: I gotta tell you, Crow, this makes a big dent in your whole 'Marrissa is
really the devil' argument.
CROW: Keep reading, heretic.
> "Borg or Georgia," Jay asked, pulling her closer.
> "Borg."
TOM: The borg came down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to graft
cybernetic attachments to...
MIKE and CROW pantomime playing the fiddle in a shambling, dronelike way.
CROW: I admit, Courtney Thorne-Smith is annoying, but given a choice between
her and a Borg...
> "I suppose you don't want to see Martin and don't want to talk about it?"
>Jay asked. "You know you're going to have to sooner or later."
CROW: In the end, Martin comes for all men. He is inescapable, grim as death,
implacable as the yawning abyss, dark as Hostess Cupcakes!
> "Later," Marrissa mumbled, falling into a deep dreamless sleep in her
>husband's arms, knowing she was protected.
MIKE: At least until a stiff breeze comes up. Then he goes down
like the weak-ass punk he is!
>
>
>
>Chapter One
>Feb 9, 2383. USS Enterprise.
MIKE: What, no "Stardate 2.9.2383.00.1.2.3.4.tell.the.people.what.she.wore?"
> Doctor Jackson Johnson had gathered the command crew of the Enterprise,
CROW: Hey, it's Carl Weathers!
MIKE: No, it's not.
>sans the Captain in his office.
TOM: What? Pants the Captain in his office? But we could go to the brig!
> All of them knew why they were gathered
>there.
CROW: Ratliff had written another friggin' fanfic.
> "Ladies and Gentleman, this meeting isn't going to be easy,"
TOM: Did you bring your #2 pencils?
> the
>Doctor said. "As per Star Fleet Regulations, I am recommending that our
>Captain be relieved of duty and be sent on a vacation, while receiving
>counseling to deal with recent events and her changing life. Comments?"
MIKE: Isn't this mutiny?
TOM: You know, maybe Marrissa _has_ changed. She would have had
these bastards thrown out of an airlock by now if she was
true to form.
MIKE: So the theme of this fanfic is that being made a Borg has
actually softened Marrissa. How terribly sad.
> "This has never happened to Marrissa before," Alex said.
MIKE: [goofy cartoon voice] In all my years in this vital industry, this
is the first time this has happened!
> "I'm not sure
>how she'll take it."
CROW: Because you know, ordinarily Marrissa's as gentle and predictable as
a savage Bengali Monsoon.
TOM: Or Gorilla Monsoon.
> "It's about time," Clara said. "She should have taken time off as soon as
>the war ended.
TOM: Instead, her bloodlust has just grown and grown...
> She needs time to get to know Sara."
MIKE: And, according to some fanfic, time to mold Sara into a psychotic killer!
TOM: Stop...remembering...fanfic..._continuity!_
> "She needs to deal with her time as Queen of the Borg," Martin Sussex
>said. "Jay has told me about her nightmares about it."
CROW: Because she is weak!
> "I don't think she should be given time off alone," Jessica Gordon said.
TOM: Let's have Paulie Walnuts tail her!
>"I know my sister- in-law, she needs the support of her husband if she's
>going to get though this."
MIKE: [Jay] Gee..._thanks_, Jess. Thanks so much for that fun suggestion.
> "You've been silent, Jay," Doctor Johnson said. "What do you think?"
TOM: No, that's Silent Bob. Jay's the one who's always talking
about Snootchie-Bootchies and weed. Try and pay attention.
> "My wife needs to get away from this ship," Jay said.
MIKE: Hey, check it out! Jay just said something that makes sense!
> "But, all her
>friends and support is here, I'm not sure how she'll recover without that
>support."
CROW: So, I too recommend that we yank it away from her. It'll be fun!
TOM: Many times, the bridge crew would gather together and plot ways
to cause Marrissa emotional pain, as a sort of hobby.
MIKE: Wouldn't you?
> "May I suggest, that you and the Captain go to Essex," Martin said. "I'll
MIKE: No, you may not. NEXT!
>take some leave and join you there to help out when she's ready. I'm sure
>you can convince your father-in-law to leave the Enterprise nearby.
TOM: Because God knows, it's not as though the Enterprise ever has any
important MISSIONS to go on!
> Essex
>is a strategic target, and with the Romulan renegades out there, it does
>need protection."
TOM: So sending Marrissa there is _definitely_ out of the question!
> "Very well," Jay said. "I will see about getting the Enterprise assigned
>to protect Essex. Then we'll relieve Marrissa of command, and I'll hand
MIKE: ...you the rifle.
CROW: But, Dad!
MIKE: I'm sorry, Jay, but she's got the rabies, and you've got to put
Yeller down.
>command over to Clara. We'll spend whatever time is necessary to help
>Marrissa recover on Essex.
CROW: Unless it cuts into our badminton time. Then, hell with her.
> Martin, if you've got leave time, spend some of
>it on Essex, but not at Halifax Castle. I think she needs some distance
>and time to think."
CROW: And a room with a strong, strong lock. That she can, uh, think in.
> "I'll stay at the Royal Hunting Lodge. It's not real close to your place,
>but nothing is," Martin said.
TOM: It's far enough away that I may very well survive the experience!
MIKE: So Big Steve here just spent THREE PARAGRAPHS on the premise
that Marrissa's going to take a vacation. HAS HE NEVER
HEARD OF EDITING?
CROW: I think he's _heard_ of it, sure...
> "Everyone for say Aye," Jay asked.
ALL: NAY!
> Everyone stated Aye. "I think that's
>everyone.
TOM: Wait, Isabella has a dissenting opinion!
> Doctor, I'll call you when I finish talking to Fleet Admiral
>Picard. Dismissed."
CROW: Time for Marrissa bye-bye!
TOM: You see, this is why you don't promote all your playground buddies
to be the bridge crew.
> Marrissa was holding her daughter tightly to her breasts.
TOM: WHOA! HEY! Don't DO that!
CROW: Jeez! A little warning next time, huh?
> Sara didn't
>appear to mind, but to Jay, this was another bad sign.
MIKE: [Jay] I remember when she did that to me...*sigh*
> Before the Borg
>attack, Marrissa had been a lot more relaxed around her newborn daughter.
CROW: Her fifteen minute juggling routine with the baby, a chainsaw, and
three torches would be missed.
MIKE: Jay still remembered the day they'd learned the baby wasn't made
of rubber with fondness. Her shrieks had been musical.
>Now she wouldn't let the little girl out of her sight.
CROW: She sees you when you're sleeping, she knows when you're awake,
she knows when you plot against her, so be afraid, be very afraid.
> In fact, he was
>having a hard time leaving as well, as Marrissa seemed to want him to be
>around constantly, as if she was afraid something would happen to him.
TOM: And she'd miss seeing it happen.
MIKE: She's been like this since she missed seeing Riker get trampled
to death...
>That was it. Finally, Jay had realized why Marrissa was behaving like
>that.
CROW: She was completely bughouse crazy! It all made sense now!
> She was afraid. The Borg had used Sara to get to Marrissa so they
>could make her their new queen.
TOM: So, even the Borg somehow recognize Marrissa's right to rule?
MIKE: But of course!
> Sara had been down in the ship's nursery,
>being taken care of by the Enterprise's professional staff.
MIKE: And racking up mad points on "Baby's First Kobayashi Maru Test."
> Jay knew that
>Marrissa had felt uncomfortable leaving Sara in the nursery.
TOM: But her efforts to grow a pouch failed miserably, so...
> Having the
>baby kidnaped and used as a pawn to capture Marrissa, that had to have been
>the last straw.
CROW: Wow, this guy's a genius! So, in other words, she's worried about
her daughter after having been through a trauma? WHAT'S
THE PROBLEM!?
MIKE: ...are you empathizing with Marrissa?
CROW: Yes. And I don't like it.
> "Marrissa," Jay began, sliding up beside his wife.
> "Yes, Jay," Marrissa said, totally engrossed in watching her daughter.
TOM: Marrissa in Raising Cain 2: Cain Harder!
> "You need a vacation," Jay said. "Correction, we need a vacation."
MIKE; Like nobody's business!
> "You know how unlikely that is," Marrissa said. "There are still Romulan
>renegades
CROW: ...breathing air that rightfully belongs to humans, and I won't
stand for it!
> running around, and two of the four Nova Class ships are in for
>completion."
TOM: And as you know, I must personally rivet in each bolt,
or they'll suck!
MIKE: I don't think they use bolts in Starfleet...
CROW: Mike, _buy_ a life, would you?
> "Actually, I just talked to your father, and he's authorized a little
>vacation for us," Jay said, embracing Marrissa from behind.
TOM: So is that a euphemism, like when Tony Soprano wants to "take you
for a little ride?"
CROW: Uhm...Mike, all this touching is beginning to worry me.
> "We can leave
MIKE: Please do.
>Clara in command and spend some time away from the ship on Essex."
> "I don't need a vacation," Marrissa said, switching the breast that Sara
>was drinking from.
MIKE: Wow. The Borg gave her detachable breasts?
CROW: Those Borg are very thorough.
> "Yes you do," Jay said, silencing his wife's protests
>with a kiss. "And you have no choice in the matter.
CROW: Quick! Put up the tarp! The blood should start flying any minute now!
> We've relieved you of
>duty effect five minutes ago.
TOM: Moments later, Jay was lying on the ground, wondering what the hell
had just happened to him.
> I handed command over to Clara, who ordered
TOM: ...a sinfully rich chocolate sundae topped with death by chocolate sauce...
MIKE: If you start talking about Clara running balls to the wall, I'm not
responsible.
>a course to Essex. We'll arrive in four hours. When we get there, we will
>beam down to that nice castle of yours, where you will spend at least the
CROW: ...pin money on booze, whores and drugs. Get ready to rock, baby!
>next couple of weeks relaxing. You will also spend some time talking to
>Martin about your recent experience.
TOM: [creepy voice] Well, Marrissa, have the lambs stopped screaming?
> I know you've been skipping your
>sessions with him."
> "Yes, Jay," Marrissa said submissively.
ALL Stare in shock.
MIKE: Did she just say 'Yes, Jay' or am I loopy?
TOM: And she said it submissively?!
CROW: Oh, man, they will never find this clown's body.
> "Why don't you ever ask me if I
>want time off?"
MIKE: [Jay] Well, usually, I'm too afraid to even approach you, but since
Ratliff's weakened you...
> "Because, my love, if I didn't take the initiative to make you take a
>vacation, you never would," Jay said. "You would do the same for me, if I
>needed even half as bad as you do.
CROW: Ah, there's the incomprehensible Ratliff dialogue I've come to know
and fear.
> Marrissa, you've been deteriorating
>ever since we got back from our little Borg adventure.
TOM: Are you kiddin'? She's been deteriorating since _Enterprized_!
> If you don't take
>some time off you might not be able to command, and I know how much that
>center seat means ..."
MIKE: More than your family, more than your marriage, more than the lives
of all those who stood in your way.
> "Jay," Marrissa interrupted, putting Sara in her crib for the first time
>that day. "What would I do with out you?"
TOM: Open that harem you've always talked about?
> "Go crazy, most likely," Jay said, pulling Marrissa back into his embrace.
CROW: _Go_ crazy?
>
>
>Chapter Two
TOM: A Neil Simon--oh, God, I wish I was dead.
MIKE: There, there...[hugs Tom]
> Marrissa carefully studied the young lady that Queen Victoria had hired to
>watch over her daughter.
MIKE: So Marrissa's vacationing in the 1890's. I think I finally
understand who the real Jack the Ripper was...
> The girl was wearing a standard navy blue nanny's
>uniform that was somehow familiar to Marrissa.
CROW: She probably saw it on a troopship...
MIKE: Watch it, you.
> She had an air confidence
TOM: New Air Confidence! You may not be able to dunk, but you'll feel
really good about yourself!
>to her, and according to her resume was very qualified to watch little
>Sara.
CROW: A Louise Woodward joke would probably be in poor taste, wouldn't it?
MIKE: Yes.
CROW: Good. She was recommended by Louise Wood--
MIKE: [grabs the beak] Stifle!
> Marrissa wasn't sure though. Actually, to be perfectly honest, she
>wasn't sure she wanted anyone other than family taking care of her
>daughter.
MIKE: Actually, to show complete candor, and not hold anything back, and to
tell God's own truth...she was ready to kick in the face of the next
sucka who even looked at her daughter cross-eyed.
> She had promised Jay though, and Marrissa wasn't one to go back
>on her promises.
CROW: She _was_ one to let loose a hideous revenge upon anyone who dared fail
her even in the smallest way.
> "Miss Halifax, you've applied to be my daughter's nanny," Marrissa stated,
>drawing up to her full 63 inches. "What makes you think you'd do a good job?"
TOM (in nanny voice): I actually care about people ?
MIKE (also in nanny voice): I'm not English?
CROW: Her full 63 inches. That's terrifying...in Lilliput, maybe. Even the
Japanese look down on her!
MIKE: Watch it, Crow.
CROW: Oh, pardon me, mister Amazing Colossal Minnewegian.
> "I am experienced in childcare, and I love the job," Serena said.
TOM: ...Serena?
CROW: Oh, for cryin' out...
TOM: SERENA?
MIKE: Someone's been hittin' the Toonami a little hard lately...
TOM: SERENA?!
> "You understand that this is a temporary job, that will end as soon as I
>return to the Enterprise," Marrissa said.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Sooner than that if the hunter-killer droids find you.
TOM: SERENA?!?
> "Yes, ma'am," Serena responded. "If you don't mind, I'd like to meet my
>charge. And remember, I get Tuesday and Thursday afternoons off."
TOM: But I'm NOT a member of the Sailor Scouts. [to himself, disgusted]
Serena! Serena, facryinoutloud!
> This take charge attitude pleased Marrissa. She liked officers that took
>charge.
CROW: Unless they tried to express an opinion contrary to her own. Then, BIKKITY
BAM!
> True she usually wasn't the one bossed around, but Marrissa found
>that she didn't mind the thought of this young lady watching her daughter.
>She seemed almost like family.
TOM: She's dead.
MIKE: Yep. She should switch to red outfits.
>
> Marrissa stood outside the nursery. Serena was inside with Sara, and
>appeared to be getting along well.
MIKE: They were sticking to small talk, you know, who do you like in the
big game, where'd you go to school, that sort of thing.
> So far, Serena had changed diapers
>twice,
CROW: It was unfortunate that the new nanny kept soiling herself, but
Billy Ray Cyrus will do that to you.
> sung that ridiculous Achy Breaky song that Sara wouldn't go to
>sleep without, and fed the little girl once.
MIKE: What?! But she's been working there three days! For cryin' out loud,
give the child some food!
> Marrissa had been standing
>outside the nursery for quite some time.
TOM: The garlic strung around the entrance kept her from getting in...
> Jay had also been observing his wife. This had been the longest Marrissa
MIKE: ...had been stretched since the unfortunate 'taffy pull' incident.
>had stayed away from Sara since the Borg took her. It was a promising
>sign. He snuck up behind her and
TOM: ...drove the stake through her heart. At long last, the nightmare was over.
> embraced her, kissing her neck. "Now that
>we've got some one to watch Sara, what do you say we go on a date?" he asked.
MIKE: [Marrissa] I say BACK! BACK!
CROW: You do that well, Mike.
TOM: Been on the receiving end of many of those?
> Marrissa seemed to be trying to find an excuse. She really didn't want to
>leave her daughter.
CROW: And she REALLY didn't want to go out with Jay!
> There wasn't one though. "Okay."
TOM: [Michael Caine] Then I have my answer! I'm walking on air!
> It wasn't the most enthusiastic response that Jay had ever gotten, but it
CROW: ...sure beat the red-hot iron jabbed into his privates he'd half expected.
>would do. "Let's go down to that private beach of yours."
> "Jay, I'd have to get a swimsuit first," Marrissa said, as Jay pulled her
>away from the nursery door.
MIKE: ...kicking and screaming.
> "Who says you need a swimsuit?" Jay said. "It is a private beach, after
>all."
ALL shudder.
TOM: Think unsexy thoughts...think unsexy thoughts.
CROW: Ain't nothin' unsexier than the idea of Marrissa dropping yet more
OF HER LOATHSOME GET!
>
>The Next Day Around Noon.
TOM: What is this, a silent film alluva sudden?
> Martin and Jay were walking though the garden below the nursery.
CROW: Later on, they conspired.
> The two
>had met up after Jay and Marrissa had made an unscheduled return to the
>Enterprise. Jay bore the reason for that return, in the form of a sling
>holding his right arm.
TOM: [Martin] So, you tried to get lucky, huh?
MIKE: [Jay] It was like putting my arm in a wood chipper! How'd
I ever manage to get her pregnant the first time?
TOM: [Martin] I really didn't want to say anything, but wasn't
that right around the time her otherdimensional clone
showed up on the ship?
> "So, Jay, tell me why you returned to the Enterprise?" Martin asked.
CROW: Do you have a clip to show us?
> "I was helping Marrissa up the twelve foot cliff above the beach, when she
MIKE: ...kicked me in the head!
TOM: Boot to the side!
>slipped," Jay explained, walking by trellis covered in blue morning
>glories. "In the process of preventing her from falling back onto the
>beach, I pulled my arm out of the socket."
TOM: Look, if you want to stick to that story go ahead, but really,
we can't help you if you continue to cover for her.
> "And what were you doing on the beach so early in the morning?" Martin
>asked, stopping to look at some small purple flowers.
TOM: With a flush of joy, he realized they were hemlock!
Escape was his!
> "Watching the sunrise," Jay said, adjusting his sling.
MIKE: It's so cute.
> "Oh, and how did you manage to get down to the beach before sunrise."
>Martin asked, moving on down the slate path.
TOM: Ease on down, ease on down the sla-aate!
CROW: Dark is the path and broad is the slate that leadeth to destruction!
> "We were there all night," Jay replied, a smile covering his face, as he
>remembered the previous night.
MIKE: [Jay] Huh-huh. I got ta kiss 'er!
> "Oh, so you spent the night on a beach," Martin said.
CROW: Couldn't spring for a Motel 6, huh, big spender?
> "Well, I always wanted to try a moonlight romance," Jay said. "Marrissa
>certainly enjoyed it."
MIKE: Come, Martin, snicker with me, for we are men! Tell sniggering
anecdotes about our sexual prowess, for we are men!
TOM: Is he about to tell us dirty stories about Marrissa? Because, if he
is, _I_ might be needing some of that hemlock.
> "Speaking of Marrissa, how is she doing?"
TOM: Oh, she makes a nice liv--no, seriously, Mike, I wish I was dead!
Dead! DEAD! [breaks down sobbing]
MIKE: Come on... [gives Tom another hug]
> Martin asked, checking out the
holly bush, before moving toward the castle keep.
CROW: Say no more! Say no more! A wink's as good as a nod to a blind bat!
> "Well, she's a little better," Jay replied. "It took a little convincing
MIKE: ...but she agreed to the Wesson Oil and whipped cream.
>to get her to leave Sara behind with Miss Halifax, but once she got back
>and saw that Sara was okay, she's not been quite so possessive of her.
TOM: She barely remembers the little rugrat anymore!
> In
>fact, she spent an hour with Sara, then left for the North Tower."
TOM: You know, down Admiral Poindexter Lane, in a cul-de-sac near
Bud McFarlane Plaza.
> "What's in the North Tower?" Martin asked.
CROW: Marrissa's other husbands...but then, perhaps I've said too much.
> "Marrissa's popular art collection," Jay replied, pausing by the maze
>entrance. "Her buyers just bought an original Neon Genesis Evangelion:
>Death and Rebirth Poster, and she's trying to find the perfect place to
>display it."
MIKE: I thought you said it was _popular_ art!
TOM: Gee...you don't suppose that Marrissa is some kind of...naah, couldn't be,
could it?
CROW: Yeah. She's just an elaborate AI.
MIKE: Artificial intelligence?
CROW: Naah. Author insertion.
MIKE: ...author... [shakes head] I'd think about that some more, but
I don't want to start bleeding from the ears.
CROW: Probably for the best.
> "Is that movie any good?" Martin asked. "I'm not into anime, so I have no
>idea."
CROW: Hey, if you're into scenes of tentacle rape, then it's your bag, baby!
> "It's good, but I wouldn't take Shayna to see it," Jay said. "She's more
>into shows like Oh My Goddess."
MIKE: Belldandy! Help! Your sisters are trying to shave my head!
TOM: So in the Ratliff future, not only do children control everything, but
anime has become our greatest cultural touchstone. Mike, we got a
Genesis Device or anything onboard?
MIKE: Used it last month.
> Martin stopped at the remains of a gargoyle. "Jay, aren't the gargoyles
>suppose to be on the castle?"
CROW: Yeah, but when Picard and Riker came to visit, Riker got all
snippy and demanded we take them down. Something about
'Goliath' and 'Demona' but I couldn't really follow it...
> "They are, I wonder how that one ended up there," Jay said.
MIKE: Well, when a mommy gargoyle and a daddy gargoyle love each other
very much...
> "I hope we
>don't have a structural problem.
CROW: I hope we don't have a plot point.
TOM: Yeah, it'd kinda disrupt the stream-of-unconsciousness we've got going now.
> I'll call the architect later."
MIKE: And with that, it's time to take a break.
[Bumper.]
[Commercials. Now you can order the LEXX Catalog! With many fine...er...sweet baby
Jesus, is she holding that thing the right side up?]
(1...2...3...4...5...6...7)
(SOL. Mike is playing Scrabble by himself while Steve and the Bots are marching
around in front of the hexfield viewscreen.)
STEVE: What is the first rule of Project MiSTing!?
BOTS: You do not ask questions about Project MiSTing!
STEVE: What is the second rule of Project MiSTing!?
CROW: Uhm...that's a question, isn't it? I mean, you just went
and broke the first rule, Steve!
TOM: Infidel! (Jabs Crow with a taser he's got taped to his dome.)
CROW: YOW! All right, Servo, you've been asking for this...
STEVE: Boys! Save it for the enemy! Now, Gypsy, have you made the
modifications to your umbilicus I specified?
GYPSY: The explosives are secreted throughout Castle Forrester.
The whole corrupt infrastructure is wired to explode.
CROW: Yeah! Burn it down! Burn it all down!
(Mike comes running over and confronts the group.)
MIKE: Hey! I just realized...there _is_ no way for him to have
gotten up here in the first place!
CROW: For _who_ to have gotten up here?
MIKE: Steve!
TOM: Well, _duh._
STEVE: Took him long enough to figure it out.
CROW: Yeah. Took _who_ long enough, Mike...or are you Steve now?
I can never tell for sure.
MIKE: What?
STEVE: He's trying to tell you...well, actually, he's _not_ trying to tell you,
because he assumes you know...that you and I are the same
person. You see, I'm just a split personality caused by years
of reading bad Ratliff fanfics.
TOM: You are? I thought you were Mike's dark id.
GYPSY: I assumed you were the zeitgeist manifesting itself.
CROW: Me, I figured you just like wearing a fake beard and
acting goofy.
STEVE: Eh, a little from column A, and some more from column B.
Well, time to blow up Castle Forrester...oh, and the
Satellite, of course.
MIKE: But that'll kill all of us!
STEVE: Well, not the bots...they were never really alive to begin with.
MIKE: Wait! Nobody as easily arousable as Crow could possibly
be anything but alive! And what about Tom? Could a mere
machine be as gullible as he? And Gypsy and Cambot are
at least as alive as Bruce Boxleitner!
CROW: Sometimes more so.
STEVE: Well, I was willing to blow us up, so...(Pushes button) Hey,
nothing happened!
CROW: Well, _duh._
TOM: Did you think we were really dumb enough to wire everything
to explode just because a split personality told us to? I mean,
really now. We've seen enough bad fiction to know better
than _that._
GYPSY: We were just going along with you in order to save Mike...
and because it gets boring up here.
CROW: We need ways to fill the time, and smacking Servo around
seemed as good as any.
TOM: You wish, Maximillian Schell!
MIKE: Guys! Could we get back to my breakdown? I mean, am I
even holding that detonator or...(sees detonator in hand,
drops it) YAAAAH! Gypsy, get rid of that thing!
GYPSY: Roger.
CROW: Well...that's taken care of.
TOM: Yep.
MIKE: Mmm-hmm.
[Long pause]
MIKE: [between clenched teeth] We're only halfway through the experiment, aren't we?
TOM: Mmm-hmm.
CROW: I thought this was going a little quick.
[Bells and whistles.]
ALL: AHHHH! WE GOT FANFIC SIGN!
(7...6...5...4...3...2...1)
MIKE: Sorry I nearly killed us all, guys.
CROW: Hey, after that whole Marrissa does the deed with her
alternate self, I was half-way there myself.
TOM: You're _always_ half-way there.
CROW: Three quarters, then.
>
>Chapter Three
>
> Marrissa stood in the torpedo bay on the Georgia.
TOM: Georgia...sweet Georgia...Delta Burke's on my mind...
> It was filled with
>torpedo casings holding a representative sample of the crew of the Georgia.
> Not a single member of that crew had survived, although
CROW: ...the married ones had pulled through nicely.
> the ship had. The
>traditional dirge of a bagpipe playing "Amazing Grace" began as one by one,
MIKE: ...Scotty started his 21-donut salute.
>the coffins were launched out into space, toward the inferno of a nearby star.
TOM: Then, they locked into a wall shape, and Marrissa was finally able to
play Super Breakout life-size.
> Suddenly Marrissa was on the bridge of the Georgia, an insubstantial
>observer to the last minutes of the ship's crew.
TOM: I'm Ed Bradley!
CROW: I'm Morley Safer!
> Helpless to stop the
>images, she watched as the crew died one by one, leaving a young girl, who
>had taken the helm when her own mother had died, to execute her Captain,
MIKE: ...which she did gangland style with two bullets to the head.
>her father's last orders. As the last Romulan Warbird exploded on the
>screen, the young dark haired girl died, a victim of
CROW: Trichinosis?
MIKE: Sweet, sweet booze?
TOM: The Candyman?
> a shard of console
>embedded in her stomach.
MIKE: Lucky girl.
TOM: Stupid poetic justice!
> Then Marrissa was before the young girl's coffin. "Mary Celeste Kinsmore
>2370 - 2382" it was engraved.
TOM: Shouldn't she have disappeared by now?
> It opened, and a twelve year old Marrissa
>was inside, dressed in the dress uniform she had worn back in 2370.
CROW: When she was empress of the playground, captain of her day camp,
majestrix of the playdate...
>Marrissa turned to avoid the view of herself in a coffin, only to discover
>Jay in a coffin.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Woo-hoo!
> She turned again. Her daughter lay dead inside a torpedo
>casing. Marrissa screamed, she wanted to get out of wherever she was, she
>wanted to be safe.
TOM: She wanted to rock!
> She awoke alone. Marrissa had fallen asleep in the North Tower watching
>anime.
MIKE: Oh, no _wonder_ she was having nightmares.
> In particular, episode 24 of Neon Genesis Evangelion. She shook
CROW: ...violently as the images of tentacle rape pounded into her mind.
MIKE: Crow? You are not to utter the phrase "tentacle rape" ever again.
CROW: But what if we read a fanfic that has tent--
MIKE: [grabs the beak] NEVER. Again.
TOM: [French] He put his dirty tentacles all over me!
>off the last vestiges of sleep. Heedless of danger, she sprinted down the
>staircase to the courtyard between the tower and the Castle Keep. She
>bounded across the moonlit court yard. Then inside, she took another flight
>of stairs two, sometimes three steps at a time.
CROW: Wow, the fanfic's become a '70's TV-Show!
TOM: She tackled the snitch and wrestled him to the ground.
> Down the corridor she
>rushed, bursting though the doors of the nursery. There she stopped.
MIKE: What...this isn't the kitchen!
CROW: Slowly she turned...
> Her baby lay content in her crib. At the sudden approach of her mother,
>Sara
TOM: ...shrieked in mortal terror, for the touch of death was near.
> opened her eyes, awake but quiet. Marrissa picked her up, and moved
TOM: ...to a small island off of the Cape.
>to take a seat in Jay's Mother's old rocking chair. Once there, tears
>began running down her cheeks.
CROW: [Marrissa] *snif* I sat on a tack!
> Sara looked up at here mother in
>puzzlement. Her mother usually was happy to hold her.
CROW: That's what she WANTED you to think!
TOM: Sorry, kid, but mommy's insane.
> From behind the two, came Jay's voice. "I was wondering when you would
>come in from the tower," Jay said.
MIKE: Come...as you are...as you were...as you want me to be...
> Marrissa looked up at her husband who was now kneeling
TOM: Kneel before Zod!
> beside the rocking
>chair. "I needed some time alone," she said, before looking back at her
>baby girl.
> "I know," Jay replied. "What cause you to run in here so quick? I
>haven't seen you go so fast since you took command of the Endeavor."
ALL snicker.
TOM: Oh, like _that's_ not a double entendre.
CROW: 'Marrissa slowly took command of the Endeavor, causing Jay to moan in...'
MIKE: Crow, must we all go blind and insane before you stop?
> Marrissa smiled at the memory. "I had to go fast back then. Taking
>command of a ship when a planetary government has decided that it's to be
>destroyed didn't allow for a orderly walk to the bridge."
MIKE: It does allow for a nice fifteen minutes of Jazzercise in-between combat
engagements, though.
> "So, what's bothering you?" Jay asked.
> "It's that dream about the Georgia again," Marrissa said.
> "Marrissa, it's time you get some help," Jay said, taking Sara out of his
>wife's arms.
ALL: WHOOOO!
MIKE: Bring it on home, Jay!
TOM: Stick her in the booby hatch and throw away the key!
> "You'll never get over it if you don't, and I don't want to
>see you hurting like this anymore."
TOM: Not when there are so many other ways for you to hurt!
> "Okay," Marrissa snuffled.
MIKE: Then, she uphagussed.
> "I'll talk to Martin tomorrow afternoon."
> "Good," Jay said, placing Sara back in her crib. "Now come to bed."
CROW: It's time to try the Venus Butterfly again!
> "Why do have a feeling I'm not going to get much sleep tonight?" Marrissa
>remarked, as Jay walked beside her on the way to their bedroom.
MIKE: Because God hates me, that's why.
TOM: Insomnia...my magic brain poisoner...
CROW: [sings] I will be your prisoner, I will be your hostage-o...
> "I don't know," Jay replied, picking up his wife in his arms. "Perhaps
>it's the famous woman's intuition?"
MIKE: I personally hope he's sending her _to_ a famous woman's institution.
CROW: Marrissa, Interrupted.
> "Are you trying to give Sara a younger sibling?" Marrissa asked as they
>entered the bedroom.
MIKE: [Jay] Don't be silly, honey! We'd have to go out to the cabbage patch
for that!
> "Perhaps I'm just making sure you get to the bedroom instead of stopping
CROW: ...at the weapons locker for that damn neural disrupter you keep
using on me.
>by your office to work on something," Jay replied. "Either way, you will
>end up spending the night in my arms."
TOM: Dum dum dum!
MIKE: There is no escape from the horror of...JAY'S ARMS!
CROW: It keeps coming back to tentacles, doesn't it?
> "Ah, my favorite way to avoid bad dreams," Marrissa murmured, as Jay
>lowered her onto the bed.
TOM: Strangely enough, it's my least-favorite way to induce them.
>
> Next afternoon, while Jay was out spending time with Martin, Marrissa
MIKE: ...drew a bead on them with her phaser rifle.
CROW: God, just imagining that scenario brings me such bliss.
>asked Serena to join her and Sara on a walk through the nearby woods.
TOM: [Marrissa] Well, they are lovely, dark and deep, but I got a lot of
stuff to do this afternoon.
> It
>was a well maintained, paved path, that made it fairly easy to push Sara's
TOM: ...nanny over the edge of a cliff. Watch her fall!
>pram. The old Victorian style pram was modeled after one that several of
>Marrissa's ancestors in the House of Windsor, had used back in the early
>part of the twentieth century.
CROW: Making it the perfect conveyance for a jug-eared, inbred, slack-jawed
goober of a royal infant...like Marrissa's baby!
TOM: Hey! I draw the line at making fun of an innocent child.
CROW: You're right. I'm sorry. I should have said that Marrissa was
a jug-eared, inbred, slack-jawed goober, not the baby.
MIKE: Now, don't you feel better?
> Every so often, the path opened into a
>clearing with a bench in it.
TOM: Not a very stable path, is it? You sure they're not in San
Francisco?
> It was at one of these benches that Marrissa
and Serena stopped.
MIKE: Well, Marrissa stopped. Serena _was_ stopped.
> Serena looked at her charge. Sara, spotting the familiar face, raised her
>arms, reaching out, urging Serena to take her out of the pram.
CROW: [Sara] Obey me, minion!
> As Serena
>picked up Sara, she said, "I believe Sara wants to see more of the world
>than her carriage allows."
CROW: And besides, isn't it time that this little slacker got up out of the
crib and took command of Starfleet?
> "You're so good with my Sara," Marrissa said. "I'll never be able to take
>as good of care of her as you do."
MIKE: Well, I'm a caring nurturer, and you're a monomaniacal despot.
Que sera sera.
TOM: Take heart in the knowledge that the emotional scars you
inflict on her will last just as long as love would have.
> "Nonsense, ma'am," Serena said. "You just lack experience. I've been
>taking care of my younger brothers and sisters since I was ten, and I
>assure you I didn't start out perfect."
CROW: Why, I lost the first three to the microwave before I realized that
it was a mistake to use the defrost setting to dry them off
after baths.
MIKE: You just have to learn to let these things go.
> "No, you just ended up practically perfect in every way," Marrissa smiled.
> Then frowning, continued. "I'm always afraid I'll do something wrong, and
MIKE: Often I do, with horrific, genocidal results.
TOM: Well, okay, so that Queen of the Borg thing didn't work out quite
as I'd hoped it would...
>hurt Sara. I never really got to deal a lot with babies. I was thirteen
>when Jackie was born and a little too wrapped up in my Security Chief's job
>to do much babysitting. And when I did end up babysitting her, I almost
>killed her with an ice cream sundae."
MIKE: [Marrissa] But she was too fast for me.
CROW: [Marrissa] Who knew you were supposed to take it out of the dish
with a spoon? I assumed it _all_ went down that talkie-hole.
TOM: [sings] She triiied to kill her with a sundae--OLE!
> "Ma'am, children aren't that fragile," Serena said. "You can make some
>mistakes and they won't go bad, or have some sort of defect as a result."
MIKE: That only happens on Xena's show.
>Then Serena smiled. "Of course, if you saw my attempt at making a strudel
>this morning, you know that food can."
TOM: White trash kids down on your knees...time for strudel and infamy!
CROW: I am the god of cake! I am the god of cake!
> Marrissa laughed, remembering how the pastry had exploded, sending flour
>all over the kitchen.
CROW: And the hilarious way it had triggered a flashback in the butler.
MIKE: ARCLIGHT! ARCLIGHT! WE NEED SOME COVER HERE!
> Sara heard her mother's laugh and quickly located
>her. She once again held out her little arms, asking for her mother's warmth.
TOM: Well, kid, if you think Marrissa is the right place to go for warmth,
I can only assume you'll be wintering in Alaska.
> "I think Sara wants you to hold her," Serena said, handing Sara carefully
>over to her mother.
MIKE: Babies....nature's own little feces grenades.
CROW: She'd spent the past few minutes shaking the child, mainly
because she couldn't find a can of soda.
> Sara smiled widely as her mother settled her into her arms. "You know,
TOM: [Marrissa] ...I think chimps are the funniest primates.
>when ever I hold Sara, it's like the rest of the world is gone, and it's
>just us two, in our own little world," Marrissa mused.
MIKE: So, have you spoken to anyone about these annihilation fantasies?
> "Somehow, holding
>her makes me feel appreciated and loved. I know she loves me, and I love
CROW: ...to drain her love away with a thousand small cruelties.
>her. During the last part of the war, I use to bring her with me to
TOM: ...incredibly dangerous Borg-infested parts of the galaxy...which explains
that whole Borg using her against me thing. Oops. My bad.
>meetings, just so I would have that good feeling to look forward to, to
>retreat to for a little while, when the news was bad. Especially when it
>was like when we discovered the Georgia."
MIKE: It was right next to the Florida, on our way to The Disney World.
> Marrissa shuttered, as she remembered the Georgia.
CROW: Serena leapt back in shock as the steel shutters slammed down, nearly
taking her hand off.
TOM: ...hey, I just realized...that's only the second spelling mistake
in this entire story!
CROW: Yeah, but now he's discovered so many other types of mistakes to
make...a _male_ Marrissa... [shudders]
> Every man, woman, and
>child been killed on that ship.
MIKE: But enough about Titanic.
> The image that stuck in the minds of
>everyone, the image representing the crew of that ship, was that of
TOM: ...Marrissa and her extradimensional clone doing the nasty.
MIKE: Let it GO, man!
> the
>girl at the helm. The girl was only twelve.
MIKE: So she was a battle-hardened veteran in Ratliffville, huh?
CROW: In Ratliff's world either you get to work young or
you're grave stuffing.
TOM: Grave stuffing? Instead of potatoes? Crow, I _love_ you!
> Death had frozen her at the
>helm, her hands poised to make evasive maneuvers.
CROW: She died in mid-vogue?
> Her body was only marred
>by one jagged piece of console which was stuck in her belly, and her jump
MIKE: ...rope game was immensely impaired.
>suit only stained by a single trail of blood going from that piece of
>console down between her legs.
MIKE: AAGH! The bad place again!
TOM: Did he actually have to draw a line to it?
> Only one other thing made her look dead,
CROW: ...her participation in a Calvin Klein ad.
>her eyes which were filled with horror and determination.
TOM: She was determined to be horrified.
> No one who saw
>her ever forgot her, the last person to die on the Georgia.
MIKE: What is this, a Gordon Lightfoot song alluvasudden?
> But that
CROW: ...was another story. I wanted to tell you about Paris in the springtime...
MIKE: Nice try, Crow, but there's no escape.
>wasn't what made Marrissa remember her. Marrissa knew that if it had been
>the Enterprise in the Georgia's place a dozen years earlier, she would have
>been the girl at the helm, not Mary Celeste Kinsmore.
TOM: Yeah, and if you'd been riding in a car in Dealey Plaza on November 22, 1963,
your head would have been blown off. WHAT'S YOUR POINT?!
> Marrissa held her daughter closer. "Sara makes life worth living,"
MIKE: I know nobody doesn't like Sara Lee, but Marrissa's taking it a bit far.
>Marrissa said. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have here."
TOM: Well, if you didn't have _here_, you'd just be floating in
a shapeless void. You know, like the Family Circus.
> They all sat in silence for a while as Marrissa held her daughter in her
>arms.
CROW: Serena felt kinda awkward. Usually by now, some strange monster-woman
in a tight dress had attacked her. To be honest, she was kinda wasted just
sitting there watching some kid.
>
> The Moon Kingdom Restaurant was a traveling restaurant. It was on Essex
MIKE: ...that Alfred the Great, first king of Saxon England, first defeated the
Danes and established his kingdom. Unfortunately, instead of reading about
any of that, we'll be heading back to Marrissa's story. Sorry.
>for the graduation of cadets from Star Fleet's Fighter School. At least
>that was the cover. Alexis and Kasey didn't spend all their time in the
>Kitchen. "Lunch crowd is coming in," Alexis said as she entered the
>kitchen. "Looks like it's going to be a busy one."
TOM: Well then, you slap Linda Evans around, while I seduce Drake Hoegystyn!
"You should have been here yesterday," Kasey said.
CROW: [Kasey] THE BLOOD'S ON YOUR HANDS!
> "Hey, I don't control when the enemy attacks," Alexis replied.
MIKE: That's what the Ritalin's for!
> "You
>better start seeing what they want." Alexis started to set up the Kitchen
>for the lunch rush as Kasey went into the dinning room.
MIKE: The enemy? Don't they want to kill us? I'm confused.
CROW: Oh God, Mike, it's more Sailor Scouts. It's MORE SAILOR SCOUTS!
TOM: What the hell does this have to do with anything!? This story's
meandering worse than the mighty Mississipi!
> The dining room served as shuttle bay when the ship was in space, but
>after four hours of hard work it was turned into a eight table wood paneled
>eating establishment, complete with brass lighting fixtures and tile floor.
TOM: ...WHAT?!
CROW: God bless the fine folks of Best Western!
TOM: But...but that's insane! A traveling...in a shuttle bay...I don't...
MIKE: Gimme some warning if you feel the head start to go, willya, Tom?
TOM: But...the traveling...if you have a ship that's a traveling restaurant,
why wouldn't you have a permanent dining room, Mike? Why? WHY?
WHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?! [breaks down sobbing]
MIKE: I know, buddy. I know.
> Two young men entered the establishment, taking a seat at the table
>farthest from the door. Kasey pulled out her order PADD
TOM: *sniff* Peter Dav--
MIKE: Must you?
TOM: You keep making the Taster's Choice jokes! Don't try and take
_my_ running gag away!
MIKE: *sigh* Fine. Go ahead.
TOM: I will! *ahem* ...Peter David?
[Terrible, abject silence.]
TOM: ...you're the ruiner of all things good, Mike.
> and walked over to
>them. Kasey identified them as her uncle Jay and his friend Martin. She
CROW: ...snickered. Sure. His 'friend' Martin. Apparently the 24th Century isn't
as enlightened as Gene Roddenbery hoped it would be.
TOM: Her _uncle_ Jay? What in the name of all that's unholy is
going on here?
CROW: Servo, give it up. There's no plot. This whole thing is a giant
Sartrean exercise in the morbidity of conventional thought.
MIKE: Or it just doesn't make any sense.
>had to hide that knowledge though, as in this time, she had not met them.
>Okay, she had, but only as a year old baby.
CROW: Okay, now _I'm_ lost. Let's assume that by the time this story rolls
around, Marrissa and company are...what, 22?
MIKE: Sure.
CROW: And they started out as ten year olds?
MIKE: Maybe a little younger, but yeah.
CROW: So this Kasey person is either a 12 year old who works, independent of
her family, on a traveling restaurant...
MIKE: Not unheard of in a Ratliff story.
CROW: Or, from the wording of that sentence, she's a time traveler.
TOM: Time travel. There's time travel in this?
(Servo's dome explodes.)
MIKE: Well, that was inevitable, I suppose.
CROW: Really should have happened a long time before now.
> "Welcome to the Moon Kingdom,
>I'm Kasey, I'll be your waitress this afternoon. May I take your order?"
>she asked.
CROW: Yeah, could you get us another dome to replace the one you just blew
off of Servo?
MIKE: [replacing Tom's head] Little high-strung today, Tom?
TOM: Hey, you're lucky _Cambot_ hasn't exploded by this point.
> "I'd like the Moon Princess Pasta," Martin said. "Milk for the drink,
MIKE: A drink that drinks milk?
TOM: Got surrealism?
CROW: UBU-ROI! UBU-ROI!
> and
>a side of bread sticks."
CROW: Mmm...crazy bread.
> "I'll have the Sea of Tranquility Soup and Toasted Cheese Sandwich," Jay
>said.
TOM: What, not "Sailor Mars Fire Cheese!"?
> "Root Beer for the drink, no sides."
MIKE: Wild men! These two are party animals!
> "Very well, gentlemen," Kasey said before returning to the Kitchen.
CROW: Hell's Kitchen, where life was cheap and Lonigan dreamed of escape.
> "So, she's finally decided to come talk to me about those dreams," Martin
>said. "I was beginning to wonder if she ever would."
MIKE: But now, at long last, she is MINE! MINE!
TOM: Hey, do you mind? I'm trying to eat my soup!
> "Marrissa's always been self-reliant," Jay said. "It's hard to get her to
>admit that she needs help. Generally, I don't ask and just provide the
CROW: hip beats, the kind you know you want to feel
in your soul, that give you all that vibe control!
>help. It's easier on us both that way.
TOM: [Jay} And I don't get hit as much.
> She doesn't have to ask, and I
>don't have to see her struggling to get something done after turning my
TOM: ...lungs into a perforated strainer.
>help down."
> "I'm surprised that hasn't impeded her command abilities before," Martin
>said.
CROW: Well, it has, but anyone who complained was...dealt with.
> "Oh, she knows how to delegate when it comes to her command, it's just
TOM: ...unusual to be in love with anyone?
CROW: NO, IT'S NOT!
>that she hasn't learnt to apply that to her personal life," Jay replied.
>"You should have heard her after we hired Serena to help take care of Sara.
MIKE: [Jay] I haven't heard that kind of language since Sam Kinison dropped
something really heavy on his foot!
>Here she was, having exhausted herself for the last three months taking
CROW: ...anabolic steroids in order to look more like an East German man.
>care of the baby, complaining that she didn't need the help."
> "That could have contributed to the problem," Martin said. "At her heart,
>Marrissa can be a very insecure person. You remember her title collecting
>when she was between twelve and thirteen?"
TOM: ...huh. You know, I'm not sure I _do_ remember that.
MIKE: It was in every other Marrissa story we've ever read.
TOM: Oh, yeah.
> "You mean Lieutenant Marrissa Amber Picard, Princess of Halifax, Heir to
>the throne of Essex, Supervising Officer of the Kid's Crew program, Chief
>of Security on the Enterprise," Jay recited. "Did I leave any out?"
MIKE: Lord of the Flies?
TOM: Empress of the Swamps of Hell?
CROW: Princess of the Air?
> "I don't think so," Martin said. "She's always wanted to be some one.
CROW: [Ray Liotta] As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be Princess
of Halifax, Heir to the throne of Essex, Supervising Officer of the--
MIKE: We get it.
>And as for her relationship with close friends, well, Lord have mercy
CROW: ...on their immortal souls, because she'll have none.
>anyone who harms her friends, her officers or her ship, because no one else
>is going to stop her from punishing them."
> "That's the truth," Jay said. "I think it is to her advantage sometimes.
>We've got one of the most loyal crews in Star Fleet.
CROW: Course, the implants in their necks help.
> When Marrissa asks
>for volunteers, the line stretches from the Forward lounge to the Aft
>Shuttle Bay."
MIKE: Hmm. Isn't the Aft Shuttle Bay where we keep the escape pods?
> "Anyway, Marrissa is going to have to face the fact that there are some
>things beyond her control," Martin said, as a monster appeared just outside
>the restaurant's door.
MIKE: WHOA! Hey! The action just snuck up behind us and tried to slip into
the story unnoticed!
TOM: So, Martin says that there are things beyond Marrissa's control...and then
a monster appears.
CROW: See! She _is_ the Devil! I warned you!
> He was facing away from the door, so he didn't see it.
>Jay had. "You mean like rampaging monsters planning to ruin restaurants?"
>Jay said, with a note of fear.
MIKE: (reading a note) Dear Mister Monster, Please don't attack my son Jay.
Signed, Jay's Mother, Fear.
> "That would be an example, but your imagination must really be working
>overtime if that's what you thought of first," Martin said calmly.
TOM: Actually, what I thought of first was Ronnie James Dio, but luckily we
got attacked by a monster instead.
> "Well, considering one is about to bust though the door," Jay said,
MIKE: Oh, for fun!
CROW: It's a comical misunderstanding!
TOM: Not since AfterM*A*S*H*...
> as the
>door was pulled off the restaurant by the brute force of the water
CROW: The water is leaking! The water is leaking!
TOM: When I consider fears that I might cease to be before Stephen Ratliff's
pen has ceased to glean his thoughts and fears, I rejoice.
>elemental like monster.
> Martin turned around. "I wish I could say you were hallucinating," he said.
MIKE: You just did say it. So you can.
> "Die, Jay Gordon," the monster said, tossing the door toward Jay.
CROW: Don't worry! He's just saying "The, Jay Gordon" in German!
> Jay and
>Martin jumped out of their chairs and the door missed them, but shattered
>the table.
CROW: Let me get this straight; it wants to kill Jay. A monster is after Jay.
TOM: You gotta pity that poor monster, picking on Marrissa's property like
that.
> "Mars Fire Ignite!" came a cry. It was from a young part Klingon girl
>dressed in a sailor fuku who stood in the doorway to the Kitchen.
TOM: A Klingon girl in a sailor fuku. Can we go back to the interdimensional
clone boffing now?
> The left
>arm of the monster vaporized.
MIKE: The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Monsters would be having a
talk with her.
> "Mercury Bubbles, blast!" was a second called attack, but not as
>successful.
CROW: They didn't send that monster down the drain.
> Other than a concessive blow backwards, the charge from the
>red-haired Sailor Mercury who stood at where the door to the outside had
>been, had little effect on the monster.
TOM: Laurence Welk appreciated it, however.
> Sailor Mercury's visor covered her face, as Mars let lose another
>Fireball.
MIKE: [Sailor Mercury] AHHHH! CAN'T SEE!
CROW: What is that, a peril-sensitive visor?
> Mars's second attack took out the monster's other arm, but the
>first arm was already growing back.
TOM: Looks like that gecko finally had enough of Geico's crap.
> "Mars, target the left heal," Mercury
>ordered.
CROW: That would be its 'Achillies' heal, if you would.
TOM: Don't make me come over there.
> "You got it," Mars responded. "Mars Fire Ignite!" The fire ball left her
MIKE: ...for a younger woman. Bitter, she began drinking, and the court finally
had to take her children away.
>clasped hands and sped toward the monster who was rushing Sailor Mercury.
TOM: I was gonna rush Sailor Mercury, but then I decided the whole
frat scene wasn't for me.
>The impact vaporized the whole body, just centimeters before the monster
CROW: ...would have learned to love.
>would have impacted Mercury.
> The two Sailor Scouts exited the restaurant, leaving Jay and Martin behind
>a table.
MIKE: And confused as all hell.
> "Jay?" Martin asked.
> "Yes, Martin?" Jay replied, peering over the table top.
MIKE: [Martin] Are we immense weenies for letting two little girls save us from a
walking puddle?
CROW: Why yes. Yes, we are.
> "Were we just attacked by a being made of water which was destroyed by two
>Sailor Scouts out of one of Marrissa's Anime shows?" Martin asked.
TOM: No, that plot twist's too idiotic even for--oh, wait. Never mind.
> "It appears so," Jay said.
TOM: But in reality, the fear that Marrissa would overhear our conversation
gave us a near-total psychotic break, that's all.
CROW: Ohhh, yeah, Marrissa's not the devil. Suuuure, Mike.
> "I hope we don't have to file a report on this, because Star Fleet is
>going to think we are crazy," Martin said.
MIKE: Especially with these LOW, LOW PRICES!
> "Not you, you're a trusted Ship's Counselor with a clean psychological
>profile," Jay said.
CROW: Except for that time Martin ate a patient, but hey, who hasn't done that?
> "As for me, they expect strange reports from Star
>Fleet Captains."
CROW: Ever since Kirk told them he'd met and kicked Apollo's ass, they've
kinda gotten used to weird crap.
TOM: So, let me get this straight, Captain...you were kidnapped by a race
of glowing brains and forced to battle in an arena with
scantily clad vixens. No no. Do tell more. Let me just adjust
my trousers slightly...
>
>
>Chapter Four
ALL groan.
CROW: MIIIIIIKE! How long is this non sequitur of death, anyway?
MIKE: Oh, who knows? Look under your seat. There any aspirin down there?
TOM: Uh...no. But I found a mint.
MIKE: That'll do.
>
> Usually, Martin Sussex worked in his own office on the Enterprise. It was
>an office that he had spent much time making it comfortable and one which
>encouraged people to relax.
CROW: Except for that pendulum over the couch.
TOM: How's the mint?
MIKE: Minty.
> It also reflected his personality, with the
MIKE: giant scythe and dark shroud he wore while lounging.
>tan velvet couches accessorized with red and white check blankets with
>frills and blue pillows.
TOM: Yeesh. The color scheme's more disturbing than then pendulum.
> He had his guitar for entertaining the younger
>visitors (and occasionally a few older ones).
CROW: Great...the ship's counselor is secretly El Kabong!
> His books were at his side
>and he knew about his patients before they entered the door.
MIKE: The lipstick cameras he'd stashed throughout the ship helped him
keep tabs on his patients, as well as doing brisk business on
www.marrissavoyeur.com.
> Not this time though. Of course he knew Marrissa, but not as a patient.
TOM: As a crazed despot, as a savage beast-woman, as a borderline
psychotic.
CROW: And a good friend.
>He'd done her yearly fitness of command reviews, but they were quite
>shallow,
CROW: [muttering] Like everyone else in this story...
> since it was assumed that by the time a person made Captain any
>serious neuroses would have already surfaced,
ALL snicker.
CROW: So I guess the compulsive need to dump strawberry juice on
anyone who disagrees with her is, what, a minor quirk?
TOM: I see from your record that you're a bloodthirsty warrior
vixen, crazed with the lust to kill...and that's what we're
looking for!
> and Marrissa had managed to
>avoid any major trauma,
CROW: She did?!
MIKE: He's talking about experiencing trauma, not causing it.
> until the Borg, that is. In the case of Marrissa,
>she'd gone too fast, and never really had a full evaluation, but as long as
>she did her job, Star Fleet really didn't care.
TOM: Why didn't Star Fleet care?
> Martin did care, and he
>wished he had done a better job. Martin had entered College at 14,
MIKE: So what's Martin's problem? He's another of these Alpha
children!
CROW: The future is apparently based on the idea that Neil Patrick Harris
was a Christ figure.
>graduated with his Doctorate in Psychology at 19.
TOM: Um...don't you need more emotional maturity than a 19-year-old
possesses to be a psychiatrist?
[MIKE and CROW look at him.]
TOM: I know, I know, it's Ratliff.
> With another year at the
>Academy he had been assigned as Ship's Counselor on the Endeavor, before
>moving to the Enterprise with Marrissa. He had two years to help Marrissa
>before she broke down.
CROW: Two years, or 3,000 miles.
> Two years to prevent it. He didn't.
MIKE: Well, Picard had her for ten, and he didn't do squat either, so it's
really pointless for Martin to beat himself up.
TOM: But it's good fun to watch.
> So now he was here on Marrissa's turf,
CROW: And ready to rumble!
> up in the transparent dome at the
>top of the North Tower of Halifax Castle. Marrissa was laying back on a
MIKE: obsidian altar, as Mictateuhl prepared the onyx dagger in preparation
of her imminent sacrifice to Tezcatlipoca.
>lounge, starring up at the sky, where several fighter craft were undergoing
>test maneuvers.
TOM: [Marrissa] I like it when they explode. I like the pretty lights.
> Martin was perched on a nearby lounge, quite
CROW: ...suitable for pigeons to do their dirty, sinful business.
>uncomfortable, actually, but then again, his comfort wasn't important here.
TOM: Because it's ALL ABOUT MARRISSA, ISN'T IT?!
> "Marrissa, I can't do anything for you if you just sit there and watch the
>clouds and fighter craft," Martin said.
TOM: You have to come towards the light! Walk towards the light!
CROW: It's time to laugh again!
> "Martin, do you think I make my friends do things that they wouldn't
>normally do?" Marrissa asked.
MIKE: Yes.
CROW: Absolutely.
TOM: Really, there's no doubt.
> "I mean everyone of them followed me into
>Star Fleet. I arranged for them to serve with me. Maybe they would be
>better off if I hadn't."
> "What makes you think they would?" Martin asked, curious as to the sudden
>question.
> "When was the last time someone questioned my orders?"
MIKE: Well, I believe that was Ross Lochard...who died shortly
thereafter...
> Marrissa said.
>"When was the last time one of my officers left my command?"
CROW: Without benefit of a pine box, you mean?
> "Marrissa, you have a gift for command," Martin replied. "In tactics,
>there are few people considered your equal.
MIKE: And she's especially good at expectorating!
> You inspire loyalty in those
>you command.
CROW: Well, not loyalty so much as mind-paralyzing terror.
> Everyone of your officers knows that you won't risk them if
>it weren't something that you couldn't do. And if it isn't something you
>could do, then they know they were sent because you know they can pull it
>off."
TOM: And stomp it into the ground.
MIKE: [Martin] And if they can't do it and you can't do it, then they know you
sent them into the jaws of death because your irritable bowel syndrome
is acting up.
> "You sound like one of those academy professors spouting the attributes of
>a good Captain," Marrissa said. "Every time I send an officer out, I
MIKE: ...chortle to myself at the hideous end awaiting them.
>worry. I'm never sure some tactic I'm trying is going to work.
CROW: See? She's a fraud! She admits it!
> I may
>project the appearance of confidence, but it is just that, an appearance."
TOM: And beneath it lies the shadow!
> "I'm no Academy Professor," Martin said.
CROW: [Martin] I'm not a psychiatrist, either. This is a lemonade stand.
> "As a member of your crew, and
>the one that has to keep track of these things, I can safely say that your
MIKE: ...darkness is as visible as a William Styron memoir!
>crew admires you, respects you, and are glad they are under your command."
TOM: [hyp-mo-tized voice] We-love-being-under-Marrissa's-command. It-is-
better-than-Cats.
> "Oh, yeah," Marrissa said. "Lets see, I've got under my command, a
>younger sister who is crazy enough to want to follow in my footsteps
CROW: ...and a whole pack of kill-crazy misfits raring to take on Hitler's
goose-stepping goons!
TOM: It's Marrissa's Heroes! Or Three Kings...
MIKE: [sings] All my burnin' bridges...
>serving as my Computer Security Officer."
> "She worships you,
MIKE: Ah, that's just a tax dodge.
> and you've always dealt with her even-handedly," Martin
>said.
TOM: Yeah, one even hand right across the face. WHACK!
> "Then there is Shayna, ship's practical joker," Marrissa said. "I must
>have been insane when I made her my Security Chief.
CROW: [Martin] But you're okay now, right? Right? Marrissa, put down the knife!
> Not only is her
>primary background Engineering, but a clown like her ..."
TOM: Her mastery of seltzer makes her invaluable against those
zany Romulans and slapstick-happy Borg!
CROW: [sings] A clown like her who'd kill your brother, forget that clown
and find another!
> "You know, some had similar objections when you became Security Chief back
>on the Enterprise-E," Martin said.
MIKE: And, in hindsight, they were spot on. Our mistake.
TOM: I guess that's what happens when the 'Wesley Principle' runs amok.
> "You did a fine job, and so has Shayna.
> True, she had a hard time adjusting to the new position, but she's doing
>well now.
MIKE: Her bones have refit around the bondage gear...
> I'd say the respect of such a person would be notable. And you
>have hers."
CROW: So take heart! You have the respect of the woman who most
matters...the queen of the pratfall, the captain of the cream pie,
the head of the joy buzzer program.
> "But I'm not worthy of that respect," Marrissa said, almost shouting.
ALL: WE'RE NOT WORTHY! WE'RE NOT WORTHY!
>"I'm just a young lady, who has been married just under a year, has a baby
>girl she's trying to learn how to take care of, all while trying to run a
>Starship.
TOM: Sounds like a great idea for a sitcom! Get Brett Butler on the phone!
> I've got all these titles, jobs, and duties to perform and I
>just wonder, is there anything else. Am I just those titles, just those
>duties. When all those are taken away, is there anything left?"
CROW: Wow. That's a hell of a lot of clarity for her, innit?
MIKE: She must have started taking the pills!
> "Marrissa, you have done a lot for your friends and the Federation,"
Martin began.
MIKE: Nothing _good_, but...
> "You've spent most of your life helping others and never
TOM: ...really learned to stop cramming your opinion down others' throats.
>really taken the time get to know yourself. Perhaps it's time you did.
CROW: Because you're good eno--well, no, you're not. But you're smart eno--
er, never mind that one. But gosh darn it, people like--uh, forget I
said anything.
>You've got enough leave time for your whole command crew, and even if you
>didn't, I'd make sure you took some.
TOM: Even if we had to use the Tonya Harding method!
> You've got a nanny who can watch over
MIKE: ...us all from her umbrella as she floats above us, singing delightfully.
Sara, and Jay can stand some time alone as well. Pack up that backpack of
>yours,
ALL: [singing] And smile, smile, smile!
> and spend some time out in the wilderness, camping. I've heard how
TOM: ...there may be enough angry bears to finally put an end to your evil...
or at least slow you down for a while.
CROW: Tom, there aren't enough angry bears in the universe to stop the devil.
MIKE: She's not the devil! She's just...cranky.
>you enjoyed it when you were younger, so I think it would be a good place
>for you to start."
TOM: Yeah, great. I enjoyed Barney when I was younger, Freud. Got any
recommendations for me?
> "If you think it will help," Marrissa said, tentatively.
MIKE: Now, does that sound like the devil, Crow?
CROW: Yep, since it was the devil who said it.
TOM: Mike, just forget it.
> "It will help, but only as much as you let it," Martin said.
CROW: Let the Camping Force flow through you!
> "Just spend
>some quiet time thinking about your life.
MIKE: And then hang your head in shame.
> And after a couple days, we'll
TOM: ...sit right back and we'll hear a tale, a tale of a frightful trip...
>talk again."
> "Okay."
MIKE: [Martin] Now, have you thought of your theme song yet?
>
> "Are you sure this camping idea is a good one," Jay asked Martin as they
>sat in the living room of Halifax Castle, sampling wine.
CROW: [Martin] Why, yes, the Black Hills of Maryland are lovely
this time of year...
> "She needs time to get to know herself again, without all the
>responsibilities," Martin said.
TOM: She needs time to grow into a sensitive, caring megalomaniacal
despot.
> She's been in a position of
>responsibility, putting others before herself, since she was twelve."
CROW: Which, as we all know, is two years too old.
TOM: Slacker.
> "A little before that," Jay said. "You forgot that first command."
MIKE: Don't eat the yellow snow?
CROW: Don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger?
TOM: Don't warn the tadpoles?
> "Oh yes, the famous first Kid's Crew mission," Martin said.
MIKE: Yes, the fifty-year time limit has run out, and now the FBI is opening
the files.
> "By the way,
>I never found out how you met Marrissa."
[ALL groan.]
MIKE: [deadpan] And we'd love to hear all about it. No. Really.
TOM: Great. We get to see what Ratliff's idea of meeting cute is.
CROW: (as Jay) Well, I'd drawn a pentagram on the floor of my quarters in my
own blood, and was chanting away in Latin when a black poodle
entered my quarters...
> "It's actually rather embarrassing," Jay said.
TOM: Gasp. Choke. Well, I'm shocked. Shocked.
> "Oh really," Martin said.
> "But I guess you'll keep prying until you find out about it," Jay said.
MIKE: [Martin] Nope! I could care less. So how 'bout them Bruins?
> "Most certainly, it's my duty as Ship's Counselor," Martin said.
CROW: It's his duty as Ship's Counselor to ask annoying questions?
TOM: Yeah, under the Troi Protocols. He also has to sense great distress.
MIKE: And eat chocolate.
> "Well, I was five, almost six, and Marrissa had just turned seven at the
>time," Jay began.
TOM: So does that make Marrissa a cradle-robber?
MIKE: To what, another cradle?
>
> The Enterprise was new to me, and I was out exploring the deck near my
>families quarters.
MIKE: Day 3: Out of food. Water supplies running low. Wish I could get these
stupid replicators to work.
> Marrissa lived on the deck above, and was going around
CROW: Telling people I smelled like feet.
>the corner. Her father called for her to come back and clean her room.
>She looked back, said no, and stepped into an open access hatch, falling
TOM: down a well. For hours, they tried to dig her out, but until Sting
did a benefit concert for her, it was all in vain.
MIKE: Sting's not that vain! Well, okay, he is, but he'd still help Marrissa if
he could.
>down to my floor. Normally, you'd expect her to get some injuries from
>this fall.
CROW: [Ahnuld] But she's liquid metal.
> She did, but I got more. You see, I was directly below the
TOM: ...hollow earth, near the caverns of the dero.
MIKE: Oh, to see the Kid's Crew devoured by Morlocks...
>access hatch when she fell. I got knocked to the floor as she landed on
>me, breaking my leg.
CROW: So early on, Jay learned to fear Marrissa's wrath.
TOM: I'd heard rumors that she worked for the Gambeisi Mafia, but
to read the evidence...
> Marrissa was horrified that she hurt me.
MIKE: She was trying to _kill_ me.
> She picked me up and rushed me
MIKE: ...but was apparently unware that I am not a sorority.
>to sickbay. No easy task since at the time I was fifty pounds to her
>forty-one, Marrissa always was on the short side.
TOM: I guess coffee and cigarettes _do_ stunt your growth.
> When she got there, she
CROW: ...dropped me repeatedly on my head for my sexist comments.
>insisted that they care for me before she would let them look at her.
MIKE: But the nurse said "Why should I listen to you? You're only
seven years old!"
TOM: Thus did her crazed ambition form...
>After treating my leg, they checked her, and determined that she had
TOM: ...ringworm.
MIKE: ...narcolepsy.
CROW: ...evil in every pore!
>carried me half way around the ship with a broken arm.
CROW: [Jay] You'd think that at least one adult would have noticed the two of
us, howling in pain...
> While we spent the next four hours in Sickbay, we began to get to know
TOM: ...you...getting to know all about you...
>each other. Meanwhile, Doctor Crusher went to find out who left the hatch
MIKE: It turned out to be his roommate!
>open. When I got home, my father told me that the Ensign who had left the
>hatch open had a cataloging job to do in Sickbay, so I guess he was well
>punished.
CROW: Years later, that same ensign took a terrible revenge, barring Nicholas
Picard from visiting his father at work. But that transfer to the
front line took care of that.
TOM: I don't believe you just referenced "Falling Into Command."
CROW: I don't believe I _remember_ "Falling Into Command."
> I was surprised that Marrissa spent the week grounded.
MIKE: With a car battery hooked up to her braces.
CROW: Her folks were strict!
> She
>later confided to me that it was probably a good thing, but at the time,
>well she wasn't very happy about it.
TOM: And at that very moment, some kind of water elemental attacked
her father. Strange, isn't it?
>
> "So that's how I met Marrissa," Jay said. "Not the most romantic way to
>met your future wife, but I can say that she just dropped in on me."
ALL laugh weakly.
MIKE: Yes, folks, just like Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, they were meant for each other.
TOM: And just like Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, I want to cover them with honey and
stake them down on top of an anthill. Let's go...
[HOST SEGMENT]
[1...2...3...4...5...6...7...]
[SOL. CROW is wearing his usual Marrissa costume. TOM is wearing glasses
and smoking a pipe.]
TOM: Well, Marrissa, I think you'll find that the Essex Home for the Unrepentantly Evil
will be a very relaxing environment.
CROW: I don't see why I have to be in here!
TOM: Marrissa, you eradicated an entire species because one of their number
stepped on your foot!
CROW: ...I had a headache.
TOM: Then you blew up their planet and used the debris to spell out "We were
genocided by a bunch of kids!"
CROW: I had a really _bad_ headache?
[Music starts playing. TOM ducks out to the left.]
MAGIC VOICE: She had no one left to turn to...
[MIKE appears, wearing a nurse's uniform and an afro wig.]
MIKE: Well, Marrissa, it's time for your strawberry juice bath.
CROW: I don't wanna! Get me OUT of here!
MIKE: Get yourself out!
CROW: ...Okay.
[CROW jumps MIKE and starts beating the snot out of him. They fall behind the
counter.]
MAGIC VOICE: She was trapped in a world where no one understood her...
[CROW pops back up. TOM comes back in, also in nurse uniform.]
TOM: Okay, time for your meds!
CROW: But I don't need any!
TOM: Are we going to have a problem here?
CROW: Oh, I guarantee it.
[CROW jumps TOM and starts unloading a crate of whup-ass. They fall behind
the counter.]
MAGIC VOICE: And then, the two of them found each other!
[GYPSY comes in. She's wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and holding a ballpoint pen
in her mouth. CROW pops back up.]
GYPSY: Mmm mmmm mmmm mmmm mmmmm!
CROW: Huh?
GYPSY: MMM MMMM MMMM MMMM MMMMM!
CROW: I can't understand what you're...
GYPSY: [releases the pen] I said, one false move and I'll jam this into my
aorta!
CROW: You don't HAVE an aorta!
GYPSY: ...Oh. Good to know!
[CROW rolls his eyes, starts beating up Gypsy.]
MAGIC VOICE: Critics say, "Never before have two robots set fire to the screen! Well,
except in _Heartbeeps_."
[CROW and GYPSY pop back up. CROW is reading from a folder.]
CROW: "Subject is megalomaniacal, prone to violent outbursts, and craves conquest
over all that lives." Well, that's me.
GYPSY: Yep. That's just you.
[CROW starts beating up GYPSY again.]
MAGIC VOICE: _Marrissa, Interrupted_. Coming soon. Or not. And we've got commercial sign.
[Bumper.]
[Commercials. Sci-Fi is proud to welcome Harsh Realm to our Four Play blocks, and--what?
Only three were...oh. Never mind.]
[Theatre. Everyone comes walking in.]
CROW: You guys all right?
TOM: Yeah.
MIKE: You hit pretty good for a guy whose arms don't work.
>
>Chapter Five
MIKE: The destruction of Jared-Syn.
> Marrissa stood on the top of Mount Hilary.
TOM: All covered in cheese.
> She had always wanted to climb
CROW: ...but feared that nearby Mount Bill would sexually harrass her.
>this mountain near Londonderry, but never really had the time. It was
>known for it's view of the Capital and now, the Star Fleet Fighter Training
>School.
MIKE: And all downwind form the Sewage Treatment Plant!
> The new palace, with it's purple glass dome was easy to pick out
>from the city.
TOM: Yeah, well, something that looks like a big zit will do that.
> Here she was, up on top of a mountain, and she didn't know who she was.
MIKE: Was she a dreamboat or a dud?
>But then again many mountain climbers didn't know that.
CROW: Huh? There a lot of amnesia in this field?
TOM: I don't remember.
> It was a long
>standing tradition on many worlds for a person to climb a mountain to find
>themselves.
TOM: And realize that their lives are meaningless...
MIKE: Tom.
TOM: And look down into the inviting abyss...
MIKE: TOM.
> Marrissa sat on top of the mountain, and began to think.
CROW: Wow!
MIKE: Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
> Who was she?
ALL: [singing] 2-4-6-0-1!!!
> Was she a Star Fleet Officer? Was she a princess? Was she
>a wife? Was she a mother?
TOM: Was she an animal, vegetable, or a mineral?
CROW: Was she bigger than a breadbox?
MIKE: Was she Keyser Soze?
> Yes she was all of those,
CROW: Is that your final answer?
[Withering glares from Mike & Tom]
CROW: What?!
> but without those
>titles, those jobs, those responsibilities, Who was she?
MIKE: She was all those things and more!
TOM: She was real, she was magic, she was calm, she was savage...
CROW: She's the devil, I say!
> The purple glass dome of the Palace caught her attention again. She was
TOM: ...easily distracted by shiny objects.
>heir to this planet, one thing that she hadn't had any chance to get out
>of.
MIKE: [Marrissa, deadpan] No. Stop. Please. Don't make me the ruler of
your planet. Help. Police.
> After all, you had to be born a princess.
MIKE: Or you can marry into the family and poison your way to
the throne...
TOM: Oh, but _I'm_ the dark one.
> Hopefully, Queen Victoria's
>upcoming marriage would be a fruitful one,
CROW: [Nicolas Cage] Her womb was a rocky, deserted place, where mah
seed could find no purchase.
> and she wouldn't have the
>possibility of ascending the throne hanging over her head for much longer.
CROW: She'd heard good things about this Albert fellow.
TOM: It must be hard to ascend a throne that's hanging over your head.
> Being a Princess wasn't something that she could change, and Marrissa
>didn't think it really defined her.
TOM: "Marrissa, Carnage Beast" was a better definition.
> After all, she just used the title,
>once, twice, maybe three times a year.
MIKE: Once, twice, three times a princess!
> Now, a Star Fleet Officer, that she'd been since she was twelve.
CROW: Yeah. We know. ALL RIGHT?! AT THE AGE OF TWELVE, YOU COMMANDED A
STARSHIP! WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW! JUST STOP RUBBING OUR NOSES IN
IT! [sobs]
> At first
>the position had been a way of following in both her biological and adopted
>parents footsteps.
MIKE: Tracking them, finding their nest, laying the traps...
> Then she found that she enjoyed the job.
TOM: The power to decide who lives and who dies really grew on her!
> Oh it was a lot of work, but it was interesting. There was always
>something new and different going on.
MIKE: How she loved meeting new and different people. And killing them.
CROW: Alien blood stains a uniform so many different ways!
> When things got boring, Marrissa
TOM: ...started a savage intergalactic war. That livened things up!
MIKE: She really is the waif who makes the dark side sickening.
>had, in the past, just asked for another assignment, working toward her
>goal of becoming Captain of the Enterprise.
CROW: Yeah, because switching jobs seven or eight times demonstrates
real staying power.
> When she found piloting
>starships lacking challenge, she applied for the post of Chief of Security.
MIKE: That Marrissa has no staying power...she just flits from job to job.
TOM: So Marrissa's having her mid-life crisis in her _twenties._ So typical;
she's always in a hurry.
CROW: It does mean she'll be dead by forty, though!
> Marrissa was sure her father was going to have a fit when she somehow
>managed to get the post.
MIKE: And he did! That's when the anyeurysm finally hit!
> How she got the post was still a mystery to her.
CROW: You can't leave me now! I finally have the post! I've got post!
>Then there was the post as Fighter Commander.
MIKE: Sure, she had to get past Freddie Prinze Jr. for that one, but it
was worth it.
> That had been Marrissa's
>favorite post until she got command of a starship.
CROW: The perks for that gig were inCREDible. Personal masseuse, point
from the gross, a brandy glass full of green M&Ms...
> Piloting, tactics, and
TOM: ...partying until three AM with the cast of UPN's The Love Boat!
>command, it had everything. Now she was Captain, USS Enterprise, she'd met
CROW: ...and slept with half the boy-toys in Hollywood. Scott Wolf,
in particular, was--oh, forget it, all I see is that damn clone.
>her goal. But what was there left as a Star Fleet Officer?
TOM: Nothing. Nothing at all. You sold out, Marrissa.
MIKE: If I were her, I'd start smoking a lot of dope, get into shape,
and try to boink Mena Suvari.
CROW: Hey, who wouldn't?
> Marrissa was
>fairly confident that she could hold the Captaincy of the Enterprise as
CROW: ...a lovely parting gift.
>long as she was fit to do so, but did she want to? She certainly didn't
>want to take a desk job.
MIKE: Yeah, "Marrissa Picard, Blood-Soaked Bureaucrat" doesn't have
the same zing.
> Her two months in command of Star Fleet, and the
>last three months as Military Governor of Romulus had taught her that.
>That was a job she was going to do everything in her power to finish quickly.
ALL: PERMANENTLY!
> Like it or not, she was now a mother.
TOM: She was one bad mother you don't wanna mess with!
MIKE: Shut your mouth!
TOM: Hey, I'm just talking about Marrissa.
MIKE: Oh. Well, I can dig that.
> Sara had not been planned. But
CROW: ...they didn't have to keep _telling_ her that!
TOM: So basically, in the Star Trek future, they can solve any problem
except baldness and a condom that works.
MIKE: [sings] Hush little baby, don't say a word...you were an accident and
we didn't want you. [speaks] Gee, I can't imagine why this kid
keeps crying.
>Marrissa hadn't chosen to prevent herself from becoming pregnant either.
TOM: Despite all the apocalyptic prophecies.
>She'd never really thought about it before, but she wanted to have children
>with Jay.
MIKE: Now that she thought about it, it didn't really make sense.
> If for no other reason than to have something to remember him by
>if Jay were to fall in the line of duty. No doubt about it, Star Fleet
TOM: ...hated Jay and wanted to rub him out!
CROW: So they had kids as a keepsake? Haven't these people heard of
cameras?
MIKE: Or tattoos? They preserve the things you love.
CROW: (as Jay) Xenogears? Why do I have a Xenogears tattoo?
>Duty was hazardous, and of the posts in the Command Staff of an exploring
>Starship, only Chief of Security had a higher death rate than Jay's post of
>First Officer.
CROW: Especially with Marrissa using him like a human shield all the time.
TOM: I'm glad Starfleet relaxed on that whole "Obscene amounts of
nepotism prohibited" policy.
MIKE: What do you mean? Sure, her dad was Captain of the Enterprise
before her...and sure, her husband is first officer...and her sister
is the Chief of Computer Security...what was my point again?
CROW: Who cares? I'm busy just resisting the urge to kill.
> Was that enough reason to have a child,
CROW: What is "duh," Alex?
> and was it her only reason?
>Marrissa didn't think that having a child as a remembrance was a good
>reason to have children.
MIKE: See? Another lucid thought! The Librium's kicking in!
> She loved Sara.
TOM: Just not as much as she loved Howie from the Backstreet Boys.
> When Marrissa picked up her
TOM: ...passport to a magic land of enchantment...ah, Contessa, so
good to see you again.
MIKE: Huh?
CROW: Servo, what the hell are you doing?
TOM: I'm 'going to Spain.' It's a technique I picked up for when the whole
process gets too painful or dull. I learned it during 'Lost In Space.'
MIKE: That (*&^*( Akiva Goldsman! I'LL KILL HIM! DO YOU HEAR ME,
GOLDSMAN!? YOU'LL DROWN IN YOUR OWN BLOOD!
RRRARRARRAGH! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!
CROW: Wow. Ever since Mike's split personality resolved itself, he's been
kinda touchy...
TOM: Anyway, you just imagine yourself in 15th Century Spain, having a
delightful spring dinner on the veranda with the Contessa De Adundanza.
>little baby girl she felt a wave contentment descend on her.
CROW: And drown her.
> She found
>great joy in doing the simple things necessary to take care of her baby.
MIKE: Preparing milk, singing songs, and chewing up food and vomiting it
into the baby's mouth.
BOTS: Eeeuuugh!
>Okay, she didn't like changing diapers, but she didn't like mediating and
>she took on that duty as a Captain enough times.
CROW: Oh, screw this. Mi amore dolce vita...no, no Contessa, we must
never let our love become a shame to us...Servo, this works great!
I've totally forgotten all about the fanfic.
TOM: Works every time.
> Sara was not going to be an only child if Marrissa had anything to say
>about it.
MIKE: Do WE have anything to say about it?!
TOM: Ah, Contessa, your eyes look lovely in the moonlight...
MIKE: Uh...Tom, can I come to Spain too?
CROW: Got your Visa?
MIKE: What, to get into the country?
CROW: No, to buy us stuff.
> Marrissa wished she had another sibling, someone to share the
>good and bad things that had happened to her with.
MIKE: You share the good, you share the bad, you...Contessa, mi corazon,
let me hold you!
TOM: What?! You swine! Her love is mine alone!
[They start fighting.]
> She felt that no one
>could know what it felt like to lose their parents like she had.
CROW: Well, except Batman, but...dammit! I'm paying attention to the fanfic
again! Thanks a lot, you guys!
MIKE & TOM: Sorry.
> A little
>brother or sister would have.
TOM: A little brother or sister would have _what,_ exactly? Would have
bought tickets to see Siegfried and Roy?
> Marrissa looked forward to when Sara got older.
TOM: Yeah, another three years or so and she'll be commanding
her own ship.
> There was a lot she'd
>like to share with her daughter.
MIKE: Like the 48 different ways to kill a man!
> Marrissa really hadn't had a Mom since
>hers had died before her twelfth birthday,
CROW: Really? We hadn't heard that. Except the FIFTY THOUSAND TIMES IT WAS
MENTIONED IN THIS FANFIC!
> but the memories of those times
>still loomed large.
TOM: Large as a Human Beat Box full of helium.
> The make-up lessons, the discussions of what she'd
>done in school, and learning how to cook, it all brought memories that
>Marrissa wanted to share with her own children someday.
CROW: Please, Steven, whatever you do, please list each and every one of
them in excrutiating detail without moving the story along!
Please! I have to study for my citizenship exams, so the time
would be appreciated!
TOM: Citizenship exams?
CROW: Yeah. I'm tired of being considered an immigant here on the Sattelite.
> Of course, Marrissa wanted to be able to do this with Jay.
MIKE: You know, I've heard enough of the things you do with Jay, all right?
> Clara had
>expected her to marry Jay for a long time.
TOM: Oh my God! Jay and Marrissa are living in sin?
MIKE: Living in...Tom, this is Ratliff. Have you two met?
CROW: No, unfortunately, they are married.
> Jay had always been there for
>her, and she'd tried to return the favor.
MIKE: She'd failed, but she'd tried.
> However, Marrissa seemed to need
>Jay more than Jay needed Marrissa.
CROW: Really? Run for it, Jay! You got hand! You got the hand!
> That had been one of the reasons that
>Marrissa occasionally pushed Jay away. She had felt that she wasn't giving
>back enough into the relationship.
TOM: She pushed him away because...Mike, Earth women don't actually think
like this, do they?
MIKE: Tom, if I knew anything about how Earth women thought, would I be here?
TOM: Good point.
> Jay felt otherwise.
MIKE: Jay gives new definition to the term 'Whipped.'
TOM: Often, people spread him on their sandwiches.
> When Marrissa had problems with her replacement as Fighter Commander, Jay
TOM: ...snuck up behind her and cracked a pipe into her kneecap.
>had been there to listen. Jay helped her through her guilt when Jackie had
>nearly died as a result of the vanilla ice cream Marrissa had given her.
CROW: How...what was...when did this...how...I don't understand!
Even Ice Cream is fouled in her presence! She _has_
to be the devil.
MIKE: Jackie's allergic, Crow. It's not Beelzebub's claw at work.
>The only thing she had helped Jay with was when his parents had died.
TOM: But then he'd cried and stuff, something about not wanting them
whacked.
>Somehow that didn't compare with all the things he'd done What Marrissa
>had done to deserve such a nice guy like Jay, she didn't know.
MIKE: But by God, he'd never escape her now.
> A cold breeze ruffled Marrissa's hair, and her stomach growled with
>hunger. It was time to go back to her camp. She took one last look at the
>view,
BOTS: JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!
> then descended from the mountain peak.
CROW: Wow, the pacing on the last several paragraphs was positively
Dickensiean.
MIKE: How so?
CROW: In the 'I'm getting paid by the letter' sense of the word.
TOM: NOBODY CARES, YOU HARRIDAN!
>
> Jay Gordon was walking along the shore.
MIKE: [Jay] Mom, do you ever feel...not so fresh? ...Mom? Oh, right, you're
dead, never mind.
> The red sand beach was unique in
>his experience. It was the exact color of the panties that Marrissa always
>wore.
ALL shudder.
TOM: She's only got the one pair?
MIKE: Don't think about it.
TOM: But the whips! The claws!
> He missed Marrissa.
CROW: He adjusted his phaser sights and tried again.
> She'd always been in his life.
MIKE: No matter what he did...changing his name, moving to another
starship, not even an exorcism would get rid of her.
> Back when they
>first met, she had made quite an impression.
TOM: Yeah, she does this killer David Brenner.
> He had a broken leg as a
>result of her unexpected drop in on him, and she a broken arm.
MIKE: We KNOW, dammit! You just told us in the last...*sobs*
CROW: It's okay, Mike.
MIKE: No, it's not.
CROW: Yeah. I know. See how hollow it sounds?
> Still, she
>had stopped by every day, walking nearly the whole width of the saucer
>section to find out how he was doing. It was an example that Jay had tried
>to follow.
TOM: What, walking the width of the saucer section?
MIKE: Jay's got calves to die for.
> Marrissa had been there for him, and he wanted to be able to do
>the same.
CROW: Oh, good. Those ten useless expository paragraphs about Marrissa were
just warm-up for another ten from Jay "I have no spine and I must
ponder" Gordon. Oh friggin' joy.
TOM: I wish I could blow my dome again, I really do.
> Then Marrissa introduced him to the joys of command. Okay, duties of
>command, not all of them were joys.
CROW: He didn't like having to wear the mask and nipple clamps.
> He found that he had a genuine ability
>for organization and tactics. Not as good as Marrissa, but not everyone
>could be perfect.
MIKE: Some of us, for instance, view life as sacred and war as evil.
> It was not until about a month after Marrissa's parents had died that he
>learnt how far from perfection Marrissa was.
CROW: But somehow, they had worked through Marrissa's irritable bowel syndrome.
> The science fair had been one
TOM: ...of those cases that makes a cop question his faith in God.
>of the areas that he and Marrissa had constantly been tops in. He had won
>the contest five times, and Marrissa four. But then again she had only
CROW: ...been a girl. A dumb, dumb, stupid girl. A doody-headed cootie
infested creepy girl! Who is now his Captain and his wife...
kinda creepy, actually.
>entered it four times. They weren't in the same division, the fourteen
>months between them usually assured them of that. That time had been
>Marrissa's last entry, and his third.
MIKE: It was a Tuesday, early in the morning. Weather was partly cloudy, with
a chance of thunderstorms later that week. Last night's lotto numbers
were...
> Marrissa had a rather good project
TOM: involving her little sister and poison ice cream.
>on subspace strings, and won rather easily. Until Captain Picard had
>called Marrissa daughter, Jay had never seen Marrissa cry.
CROW: Up til then, he thought she was an android!
TOM: But even an android can cry!
> She had broken
>down and cried in the Captain's gentle yet inexperienced embrace. He felt
MIKE: confused and unsure about his sexuality.
>real compassion for his friend, and tried to be there for her. Jay had
>talked with Counselor Troi about Marrissa.
CROW: [Jay] Oh, you sense much pain in her? You don't say.
> He'd followed her advice,
>trying to keep Marrissa involved, though her relentless organization and
>drilling the Kid's crew though that period was driving his other friends
>insane.
TOM: Yes, folks, "Drilling," Item number 473 on the list of things
I didn't want associated with Marrissa Picard.
> It wasn't until the Captain took Marrissa to Earth for that
>vacation that she began to recover.
CROW: What was that, "All The King's Horses?" "Home For Christmas?"
MIKE: Some people have annoying slideshows, but Marrissa just has
annoying fanfics.
> Marrissa had come back from that trip with her ensign's pip,
CROW: Ooooh! That musta hurt!
TOM: What did that poor ensign ever do to her?!
> and probably
>set her whole command crew's careers in motion with that one choice.
TOM: Sooo...hypothetically, if one were to go back in time to that point--
MIKE: There'd be a whole alternate universe of fanfic for us to read.
TOM: Ah.
> Jay
>wasn't complaining about that.
CROW: What he really wanted to talk about was this hangnail.
> Star Fleet had brought him many things he
>wouldn't have gotten otherwise.
MIKE: Night sweats, any number of scars, and a wife who usually had to use
a wire brush to clean the blood out of her fingernails at the end of
the day.
> True, he was now a twenty-three year old
TOM: ...prettyboy. God, sometimes I want to smash him!
CROW: Sometimes? He's the Rick Astley of the Kid's Crew!
>Star Fleet Captain, not a usual path, but he could say that he had no
>regrets in his career to date.
CROW: Well, he had a few, but then again, too few to mention.
> Even that six month stint in the Judge
>Advocate General's Office had been good for his career, though some hadn't
>liked dealing with a thirteen-fourteen year old Chief Investigating
>Officer.
MIKE: Imagine that. I know if I were an adult, I'd just love having a fourteen
year old in charge of _my_ career.
CROW: Shut up, slacker. You're just jealous that you were working in a cheese
factory while Jay and all his friends were out watching Marrissa
save the galaxy.
TOM: And what career, anyway? You were working in a temp agency
before Forrester and Frank sent you up here!
> It gave Jay new insight on Marrissa's time as Chief of Security,
>the one post of hers that he hadn't had.
CROW: The one he craved above all others. Oh, how it galled him...
> In some ways, Jay had followed in Marrissa's footsteps.
TOM: Being led around on a leash will do that.
> The only real
>difference in their posts was that when he was a Lieutenant, he'd been
MIKE: ...assisting the Doctor in his campaigns against the Daleks.
>Chief of Operations, and Marrissa had been Chief of Security. But then,
>Marrissa's parents had been Security Officers, and Jay's father had been
TOM: ...addicted to quaaludes.
CROW: You can't eat your cereal without a whole-lotta-milka!
>his predecessor in Operations. Jay didn't mind following in Marrissa's
>path.
CROW: Though he did slip on the entrails from time to time.
> Once he had decided to pursue Marrissa romantically back when they
MIKE: ...were pre-natal....
>were on the Stargazer, he knew that one of them would have to out rank the
>other, and in addition to having a earlier start, Marrissa was just plain
>more talented. Marrissa had never said that, though, and always asked
>Jay's opinion in meetings.
CROW: So Jay's a pretty piece of fluff Marrissa keeps on the line.
MIKE: Uh...yeah. Basically.
> Marrissa tried to share as many of the burdens of command that she could,
>and as a result, Jay had learnt quite a bit about being Captain.
TOM: Like the high importance of blind luck and nepotism.
> Once
>Marrissa had returned from maternity leave, he'd been offered his own
>command.
MIKE: The USS Redshirt! Designed to fly into dangerous situations and get blown
up off-camera.
> But she was his life, there was no way he was going to leave her.
> Plus, they were a family now.
CROW: And he'd gotten used to the collar she made him wear.
> Little Sara had been an unexpected surprise.
TOM: We KNOW.
> Not that it made her any
>less welcome.
CROW: Mike, what's "deja vu"?
MIKE: It's the feeling that you've seen or done something before.
> Jay remembered the first time he'd held his daughter. She
TOM: ...wailed in terror and could not be quieted until Woody Harrelsen finally
decided to do ED TV.
MIKE: What?
TOM: Well, Jay reminds me of Ron Howard.
CROW: Huh. I get a David Hyde Pierce vibe off the guy.
>seemed so fragile and small.
CROW: Of course she was fragile and small, you clod, she was a NEWBORN!
> And when Marrissa held her daughter, her
>entire being changed. She no longer wore the mask of command that Jay had
>only occasionally got her to drop.
MIKE: Now she wore...THE MASK OF ZORRO!
> It was as if her whole being centered
CROW: ...on her war with God and the angels. The bene-ha-elohim would
pay for casting her aside.
>on the little girl in her arms. Sometimes he found it amusing when
>Marrissa talked in baby talk to her little girl.
TOM: Sometimes, it just bugged the hell out of him.
> Here was the woman who
>negotiated with leaders, defeated vast fleets of enemy starships, and ran a
>tight starship, talking nonsense to the little girl sucking on her breasts.
MIKE: Alex, I'll take "Things that make me want to put out my own eyes"
for five hundred.
> But then again, Marrissa was almost a different person when she was off
>duty.
TOM: The "Mother" persona took hold. while "Pierre" went into catatonia.
> Back when they were dating, Marrissa always let Jay take the lead.
>It had surprised him a first. But he quickly realized that Marrissa had a
CROW: ...legion of fallen angels at her beck and call.
TOM: Crow, she's _not_ the Devil.
CROW: She's gotten to you, hasn't she?
>need to be pampered and protected. As Captain, she tried to hide that
>need.
MIKE: Except when they flew past the Planet of the Beefcake Masseurs. She
just couldn't pass it up.
> After all, she was in charge. But in that first five year mission
>on the Endeavor, Jay began to notice how a simple thing like taking
MIKE: ...all of the silverware would annoy the kitchen staff.
>Marrissa out for dinner could remove her from the pressures of command and
>allow her to recover from them. And when he protected her, charging into
CROW: ...the bulkheads and knocking himself unconscious...
>battle, there was no person more grateful. Back when they were children on
>the Enterprise-D, Marrissa was always the person to chose the program on
>the holodeck.
TOM: [Marrissa] Let's try this one! It's called "Beat Jay's Skull!"
> Now, she rarely did. As long as it was fun, Marrissa was
TOM: ...fully committed to oppose it!
CROW: Fun? Off with his head!
>eager to try whatever Jay suggested.
MIKE: Except for that bizarre "Missionary Position" idea. What a freak!
TOM: ...WOW. I never, EVER wanted to hear about Marrissa and Jay's
sexual role-playing.
> That Forbidden City Concubine program
>had been especially well received during the first couple months of their
>marriage.
CROW: The Atlantic City Crack Whore program hadn't gone over nearly as well.
TOM: Oh. Dear. GOD.
> Jay heard the bells from the chapel. It was time to get back. Alexander,
>Martin, Patterson and Doctor Johnson were coming over for poker tonight.
MIKE: Wow, that sounds like a randy good time, so of course, we won't get to
see it. On to another five paragraphs of introspection!
>
>
>Chapter Six
CROW: Lord Foul's Bane.
TOM: The Adversary.
MIKE: Skippy the Wonder Bot.
> Marrissa dropped her backpack in the front hall. She'd walked all the way
>from Londonderry, a good seven miles.
TOM: *gasp* Stupid...shuttlecraft...dead....battery...
> Her three days on Mount Hilary had
MIKE: consisted mostly of reassuring her that, yes, Bill was totally out of
line.
>been rather relaxing. She had decided a lot of things up in the clear
>mountain air, and had lots of things she had to do as a result. However,
CROW: ...let's talk instead about the migratory patterns of the local parrots!
>there was only one thing she wanted to do now.
MIKE: Have some fun until the sun comes up over Santa Monica Boulevard.
> There was this lovely hot
>tub out on the terrace near the living room, and she was going to spend the
TOM: ...pin money on whores, booze and drugs. Didn't we already cover this?
>rest of the day in it.
MIKE: Uh, Marrissa, do the words "toxic shock" have any meaning for you?
CROW: Sssshh, Mike. She needs to relax...relax, Marrissa, just boil yourself
in that tub...MU HA HA HA!
> She headed towards the terrace, after taking off
>her boots and socks. As she walked, she stripped out of her clothes.
MIKE: Oh, no.
TOM: RATLIFF!
>After all, this was her house, and if Jay saw her nude, maybe he'd be
CROW: ...so traumatized that he'd never bother her with his carnal
desires again.
TOM: CURSE YOUR EYES, RATLIFF!
>willing to give her one of those massages that he was so good at. And if
>that lead to something else, so be it.
TOM: RATLIIIIIIIFF!
MIKE: Tom, just think about this. If there was an actual sex scene, don't you think
Pearl would be all over it, rubbing it in our faces?
TOM: ...okay. Okay, good point.
> "Going somewhere, Mara?" Jay said as she stepped on to the terrace.
CROW: Ah, Ms. Picard. You have a nasty habit of surviving...
> She
>was down to her panties, her small, red, lace, panties.
MIKE: This disturbing gaze into Stephen Ratliff's psyche was
brought to you by...
CROW: Ratliff, you dog! Let's get it on, Mama!
TOM: Crow, think about it...it's Marrissa! She'd start biting
into your head like a Praying Mantis!
> "In to that hot tub to get some of the aches and pains out," Marrissa
>said, slowly removing her panties.
CROW: Never has the phrase "slowly removing her panties" been
less appealing...
> "Mind if I join you?" Jay asked.
ALL: YES!
> "I'd be disappointed if you didn't," Marrissa said.
MIKE: Disappoint her, Jay! Then we'll all be even!
> "I take it that you'll need the tender caresses of Gordon Massage Inc.,"
>Jay said, stripping off the dark blue and green jumpsuit he'd been wearing.
MIKE: Annnd cue the wocka-chicka.
TOM: His dark, blue, and green, jumpsuit?
CROW: Unfortunately for Jay, he found that he was wearing the same underwear
as his wife. Once again shame gripped them both.
> Marrissa spent some time admiring Jay's well developed muscles. She would
>have never guessed he would turn out like this when she first met him.
CROW: She thought he'd turn out like Hugh Grant, only not as rugged.
>Then again, he had been only five, and at just turned seven, she wasn't
>exactly looking at men that way yet.
MIKE: And thanks for bringing THAT up!
> Marrissa lowered herself into the
>churning hot water.
TOM: AHHH! PIRAHNA!
> It felt so good. She could feel the aches and pains
>melt away.
MIKE: ...and flow into _us_.
> Jay took up a seat across from her. He began to massage her
>right leg. She moaned her approval.
CROW: Where did I leave that home lobotomy kit?
MIKE: Crow, you don't have a brain...
CROW: It's for you, Mike.
MIKE: Really? (Gets choked up.) Gosh, Crow, I don't know what to say...
ALL begin hugging and sobbing.
> "So, Marrissa, how was the trip?" Jay asked.
CROW: [Marrissa] Oh, man, I'm still comin' down...I saw a UFO, and a Hobbit,
and then the sky started twirling around like a kite...whoa, man...
> "Relaxing," Marrissa said. "I hiked all the way up to the top of Mount
>Hilary, and the view was wonderful.
TOM: [Marrissa] So many people and places, and I RULE THEM ALL! MU HA HA!!
> You can see everything from
>Londonderry to the Fighter School from there."
MIKE: And on a clear day, you can see forever.
CROW: Or the city on the edge of forever.
> "Whose idea was it to put up that school in black gothic stone?" Jay
>asked, switching legs "I've always wondered."
> "I understand the gothic air traffic control tower was Admiral Sinok's
>idea," Marrissa said.
TOM: He was a big Cure fan.
CROW: Control to tower...you're getting close to the runway at a sharp angle,
but all life is travesty, so screw it.
> "Everything else followed that building. He's
>really big on having our bases look like they've been there forever.
MIKE: Great. The Creative Anachronism Society in Space.
> And
>you have to admit that it looks like it's been there longer than
>Londonderry does."
CROW: ADMIT IT! ADMIT IT, SKEL!
> "Marrissa, it looks like it's been there longer than London has been on
>Earth," Jay replied.
MIKE: [Jay] Because it's in space, which means it's better!
> "I'm sure that taking in the views wasn't all you did."
TOM: [Jay] You've done the Bad Thing again, haven't you, dear?
> "No, I did lots of thinking, and even tried my hand at fishing," Marrissa
>said. "I didn't catch anything though."
CROW: Well, you might wanna try a pole next time instead of your hand.
> "I've never done that before," Jay mused. "Come sit on my lap so I can do
>your back."
TOM: He's never done _that_ before either!
MIKE: Oh, no, not the LAP! Anything but the LAP!
> "Neither had I," Marrissa said, as Jay massaged her back. "When I was
>little, my dad did a little fishing when we went camping, but I was never
>really interested. Too caught up in the horses, I think.
CROW: So can we add "Junior Rodeo Daredevil" to the list of titles?
> Ahhh, that feels
>good."
> "With all the practice I've gotten, I'd hope it felt good," Jay said.
TOM: [Jules] Don't be tellin' me about foot massages. I'm the foot freakin'
_master_.
> "Yeah, I did ask for one every night when I was in my last couple months
>carrying Sara," Marrissa remarked. "I probably should have gone up to
>check on her first."
MIKE: She might need a massage, too.
CROW: She's probably a very stressed infant.
> "Are you planning on going back to stressing yourself over every minute
>you miss with her?" Jay asked, worried.
TOM: [Marrissa] Well, I wasn't going to, but now that you mention it...
> "I know I can't be there every minute of the day," Marrissa said. "It's
>just that I love taking care of her. When I hold her, I feel like I've
>done something right, something good, and nothing else matters."
MIKE: Wow. That's...that's actually a nice sentiment.
CROW: Out of the mouths of demons.
> "It wasn't until that first time I saw you holding Sara to your breasts
>that I saw you really relax," Jay said.
TOM: And it wasn't until then that we started to scream.
> "You aren't that different," Marrissa responded, sitting back against Jay.
> "I'd like to see what those Ensigns who call you 'Mr. Grueling' would say
>when they see you playing with Sara.
ALL crack up.
MIKE: No. Sorry. No one has _ever_ called Jay "Milquetoast" Gordon "Mr. Grueling."
TOM: "Mr. Drooling," maybe.
> And I think you should be shot for
>using 'Achy Breaky Heart' to put her to sleep."
CROW: [Marrissa] GUARDS! Take him away!
> "It works," Jay defended, putting his arms around his wife.
TOM: If he was getting shot, he was taking her with him.
> "I don't understand the appeal of the piece," Marrissa said.
MIKE: Well, see, there's this guy whose heart is...uh...achy and breaky,
and if you tell it...something...it might blow up and kill him.
CROW: So what's the appeal?
MIKE: The idea of Billy Ray Cyrus' heart exploding inside his chest.
BOTS: Ohhhhh...
> "Apparently, Sara does," Jay concluded.
TOM: Yeah, well, Sara understands the appeal of crapping in her diapers, too.
Babies have no taste.
>
> Early the next morning, Jay woke up Marrissa with a kiss.
MIKE: But he flinched away from the cross on her neck.
> "Rise and shine."
> Marrissa took a look at the bedside clock. "It's 0600 hours. Let me go
>back to sleep." She turned over and pulled the covers over her head.
CROW: Ya know, there's room for a Dutch oven riff here, but I'm already kinda woozy.
MIKE: We're almost there, I think...
> Jay yanked off the covers. "Oh no you're not. If I have to get up to get
>ready for that damned Most High and Noble Order of the Heroic Defenders of
>Essex, you are going to join me.
MIKE: ...please?
TOM: I can't understand it, nurse. How could Mr. Gordon break every single bone
in his body by falling down a flight of stairs?
> Besides, I need help to get into that
>ridiculous armor that you insist that I wear for it."
TOM: [Jay] I've never even heard of someone wearing an iron maiden to a
formal function...
> "It happens to be an exact replica of Henry VII's formal armor."
CROW: Ya know, Henry VIII's would be easier to get into.
> Marrissa
>said, giving up trying to sleep and going to her closet.
TOM: Where she kept the whip.
CROW: [whip sound] You must have lost your damn MIND, punk!
> "And stop adding
>descriptions to the Noble Order of the Defenders of Essex. It's not like
>they need any more."
MIKE: Defenders of Essex...wasn't that the show with Flash Gordon and
Mandrake and all their kids?
TOM: Oh, yeah! I loved that show!
> "Yes, your highness," Jay replied, as he pulled her back against him,
>showing that she wasn't really that high.
CROW: I wish _I_ was high.
TOM: Me, too. Hey, Mike, how's that "hydroponic farm" that Joel left
behind doing?
MIKE: Ixnay! Not in front of the Ads-may!
> "Tell me again why I have to run
>it this year."
MIKE: Because our regular dungeon master has mono.
> "Because Clara's Father is on the other side of the Federation, and you
>are the highest ranking male member of the Royal Family." Marrissa escaped
>from his embrace, and pulled out a blue dress. "Do you think this will do?"
TOM: [Jay] What's that stain?
CROW: [Marrissa] Nothing.
TOM: [Jay] Wait a minute! You wore that when you went to Mount Bill!
> "What about Martin?" Jay replied, putting on the garments that went under
>his armored chest plate. "And I'd go with something more formal. Try that
>13th century Princess outfit."
MIKE: And wear the pointy hat. [saucy growl]
> "Martin is only a Earl," Marrissa replied.
MIKE: [Marrissa] Filthy peasant scum!
> "You on the other hand, are a
>Royal Duke, and husband of the current heir to the throne. Until Victoria
>marries William next month, there is no more senior male.
CROW: That's right, kids, an entire planet where Jay Gordon is the Alpha
Male.
> The dark green
>one or the light violet one?
> "The green one, though the violet one does bring out your eyes.
TOM: [muttering] Wish it'd put out her eyes...
> You know,
>all these Royal titles can really get annoying sometimes."
ALL: Tell us about it.
> "I've given up on complaining about accidents of birth."
TOM: Don't worry. We'll do it for you.
> Marrissa was enjoying being the pretty face this time. Usually she had
>some sort of speech to give, or had to talk with some ambassador.
TOM: Which is all boring and stuff for a girl!
CROW: Math is hard!
> This
>time, all the words were Jay's.
CROW: Jay's Jay's Jay's Jay's Jay's?
MIKE: Jay's, Jay's Jay's Jay's Jay's Jay's!
TOM: Malkovich!
> The Noble Order of the Defenders of Essex
>was a male order, all the females in the chapel were mainly there for the
>socializing afterwards.
MIKE: Oh, for...BOOOO!
CROW: Screw that! Sisterhood now!
TOM: [Marrissa] Hey, girls, let's go live on an island and train ourselves to
deflect phaser blasts with bracelets!
> Taking one of the 128 positions in the order was a
>high honor,
ALL: Saaaay!
CROW: The Marrissa Sutra!
> and very rarely did less than a hundred attend the annual
>meeting. She could see her father across the aisle with the Doctor.
TOM: [Picard] A small, robotic dog? No, I'm afraid I haven't seen one...
> She
>knew that there would be a conversation after the meeting.
CROW: Um...well, eventually, yeah, unless you plan on leaving civilization
and living in a cave for the rest of your life.
MIKE: Which we're cool with.
> Hmmm, Jay was
>adding to the name again. A quick elbow cut it short, and bruised Marrissa
>due to the polished steel armor plate Jay was wearing.
TOM: Oh, aren't they cute. Boy, I hope existence comes to an end in
the next five minutes or so.
> Fortunately for
>Jay, the ceremony was rather short. Unfortunately for Marrissa, the
>ceremony was being followed by a long reception in her main hall.
CROW: Oh boy! Cocktail weenies!
> As the ceremony ended, Jay took Marrissa's arm, and led her out the chapel
>doors.
MIKE: [Jay] Come on, honey, we've got contemplating to do.
> The day had suddenly cleared from the storm clouds which had been
>threatening earlier.
TOM: [Clouds] Hey, nice castle ya got dere, yer Highness...sure would be a
shame if somethin' was ta happen to it...
> The morning doves cooed from their perches around the
>slate covered court yard as they walked around to the main castle entrance,
>that of the great hall, the hundred five members and their ladies following
>them in procession.
CROW: Mike, what do the replicators make food out of?
MIKE: ...what?
CROW: The replicators. On the ships. What do they make food out of?
MIKE: Uh...well, it's--wait a minute, what does that have to do with anything?
> They entered the high oak arched chamber, and took up
>positions by the door to greet their guests
CROW: Nothing. I'm just curious. So what is it, energy transformed into matter?
I mean, how can that be possible in such a small--
MIKE: Crow, this has nothing to do with the fanfic.
CROW: ...huh. You're right. Anyway, I think it's got something to do with
water. I mean, that is the source of all life. So maybe--
> The first was the oldest member of the order; Frederick James, fifth Duke
>of Holbrook.
TOM: Son of Hal.
CROW: --maybe they can supercharge the water, right, and the microscopic organisms
contained therein to create a ham sandwich.
MIKE: Pay attention to the fanfic!
CROW: I DON'T WANNA, DAMMIT! *pant pant* Now, see, this begs the question, how does
the matter take the form of a ham sandwich? Is it always the same sandwich?
> The white haired gentleman was escorting his granddaughter,
>his wife had pasted away some years earlier.
TOM: Oh, that's too bad. He must really have been stuck on her.
MIKE: She was the glue that held that marriage together.
TOM: They had a real bond.
MIKE: Even though her taste was rather tacky.
TOM: Well, it was nothing compared to her cousin Elmer.
MIKE: She probably died of the epoxy.
CROW: So I'm thinking that maybe they scan one food item into the computer,
right, and...oh, screw it. Hey, maybe they could put an adhere!
Get it? Adhere! Ad here!
> Frederick shook Jay's hand.
TOM: BZZZZT!
>"Excellent play on the order's name, Most High Noble and Penitent Order of
>the Valiant and Courageous Defenders of the Most Holy Planet of Essex
>indeed.
CROW: By the way, they've declared a jihad on you. Start running, Mr. Grueling.
> I don't think I've heard so much humor ejected in these meetings
>since
MIKE: ...Bill Hicks showed up and called us all a bunch of mindless sheep
who couldn't think for ourselves.
>the late King George was in his youth. I must encourage Tory to do
>have you do these things more often."
CROW: And to stop humping that piano bench.
> "Now, Father, you shouldn't refer to the Queen like that," his dark haired
>granddaughter remarked, trying to lead him past the couple.
TOM: [Fred] What? "Sperm-burping Gutter-slut" is a pet name!
MIKE: Tom!
TOM: I miss the Dysfunctional Family Circus, all right?
> "I'll refer to my god daughter any way I please, and Tory wants me to call
>her that," Frederick said, as his granddaughter lead him away.
CROW: Nobody tells a Navy man what to call his goddaughter, cause only a Navy
man--
> Several more couples went by with just a hand shake and a greeting. One
>old lady treated Jay with a menacing glare.
MIKE: Time for a rumble!
> It seemed his conduct wasn't
>appreciated by all.
TOM: Ripping up that picture of the Pope had been a big mistake.
> A couple of the ladies were asking Marrissa about her
>daughter.
CROW: [Pepperpot] Has she grown any fangs yet?
TOM: [Pepperpot] Is the tail still vestigial, or prehensile?
MIKE: [Pepperpot] Oh, they grow up so fast...soon she'll be corrupting
her little kindergarten friends.
> All and all, it was a rather easy beginning. Martin arrived
>with Shayna as his escort.
TOM: [Shayna] Now, remember, it's $3000 for the week, and no mouth kisses.
> "Tell me again, why you couldn't do this?" Jay asked.
> "Because you out rank me, and it was the Queen's idea, and she out ranks
>both of us," Martin replied. "Besides, you did a good job."
CROW: [Martin] Yeah, you were *snicker* great up there...jeez, whatta dork!
> "Oh, renaming the order wasn't enough to prevent me from doing it again?"
>Jay replied.
MIKE: Nope. Just enough for you to get your ass kicked in the parking lot.
> "I told you, Jay, that you'd get stuck with stuff like this when you
>married me," Marrissa said.
TOM: Actually, you said he'd get stuck _by_ stuff. Swords, knives, jagged
pieces of console...
> "Yes, Mara, but you said I could have fun with it," Jay replied. "I'll
>talk to you later, Martin."
MIKE: [Jay] Can't stop and chat all day, I've got a lot more whining to do...
> Next up was Fleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, Commander, Star Fleet.
CROW: Commander of the Kid's Crew, Heir to the throne of--oh. Wrong
Picard.
>Actually, they were just getting into the military contingent. A third of
>the order was in Star Fleet, and he'd seen the most grins during the
>ceremony from them. Of course, he still couldn't read his father-in-law's
>expression.
TOM: The guy's handwriting was worse than a chicken with a bad case of
the shakes.
> Some said that while on duty, Cmdr Star Fleet had the
>definition of a poker face.
MIKE: Others say that sometimes, just sometimes, a crow can bring a soul
back from the dead to put the wrong things right.
[The BOTS look at him.]
> The only reason why the 'on duty' label was
>there, was due to the lunches he had with his children at the Admiralty.
CROW: Oh. Huh? Uh...wait, huh? The only...huh?
> "Good Afternoon, Jay," Jean-Luc said. "How is the leave going?"
TOM: Well, you're still here, aren't you? LEAVE!!
> "It's been a welcome repose, sir," Jay replied. "May I hope that some
>emergency doesn't end it soon?"
MIKE: [Picard] No, you may not. There's no hope in Starfleet.
> "I'm not sure that I can stop that, Jay," Jean-Luc said, allowing a trace
>of tension into his brow.
CROW: Gee, and he usually looks so relaxed.
> "It looks like we may have some problems on
>Romulus, but that's a problem we can handle later.
ALL: DUN-DUN-DUUUUN!
> Enjoy your leave and
>your daughter while you can. They grow up all too soon."
CROW: [Picard] Then they died in a fiery auto wreck...or house fire...
or something.
> "If you'd like to see Sara, she's in the nursery," Jay said. "Lynn says
>that she's bring Jackie down later."
> "I don't suppose you've read Jackie's letter of protest?" Jean-Luc said.
TOM: [Jay] Yeah, actually. Tell her not to bother. Sci-Fi cancelled the show
last year.
> "Jackie is protesting something? I've never heard her complain before,"
>Jay replied.
MIKE: [Jay] Except when the local paper dropped _Snuffy Smith._ I've never
_heard_ such language.
> "Apparently, Clara made her Acting Chief Engineer," Jean-Luc said. "She's
>not happy."
CROW: And to think she had to wait until the age of 12 to get that far! I'd
be pissed too.
> "Let me guess, you're letting it go until Marrissa gets back," Jay said.
> "No one is filling Marrissa's top posts until she gets back," Jean-Luc
>said. "I'm not going to get involved in it."
TOM: Besides, with the Feds investigating Tony and Junior in the slammer,
this thing could go either way.
> "Good idea," Jay said. "Check out the wine. It's the new Essex Hanover
>'75. Marrissa says it's nearly as good as the '47."
> "I'll have to check it out."
CROW: [Picard] My little girl knows her booze!
>
> Marrissa was chatting with the Duke of Holbrook when she spied her sister
>entering the room. She was wearing a nice green dress, with a rather short
>cascading skirt. It appeared to be one of Garek's works.
CROW: She could tell by the big "GAREK" printed across the chest.
> Jackie was
>proceeding purposefully across the room.
MIKE: ...carrying an automatic machine pistol.
TOM: La Femme Jackie!
> Her eyes made contact with
>Marrissa, and Marrissa decided that she better talk to her soon.
TOM: Like Ronald Reagan said, let's have the massacre now and get it over with.
> "Excuse me, your grace, but I believe that my little sister needs to have
>a word with me," Marrissa said.
CROW: [Marrissa] And she looks like she's in dire need of a SMACKDOWN!
> "Go right ahead, I want to get a word with Sir Jay," the Duke said. "Your
>husband is a real treasure.
MIKE: Like the Hope Diamond. Or the Sierra Madre.
> Don't let him get away."
> "I have no intention of doing so," Marrissa replied, before heading
>towards her sister.
CROW: [Marrissa] That's why I've got that tracer attached to his ear.
> They met by one of the window seats. "Marrissa, you've got to help me,"
>Jackie said.
> "What's the problem?" Marrissa asked, as she sat down in the window seat.
TOM: Thus hiding the body of Mr. Hotchkiss.
> "Commander Sutter-Rozhenko decided to make me acting Chief Engineer while
>she was in command," Jackie began. "I protested. I'm just not ready for
>that yet, but she made me do it.
MIKE: Are _your_ kids being pressured by their peers into accepting prestigious
positions of authority! A Channel 5 Special Report!
> It was okay for a while, but now I've got
>two section chiefs feuding over territory,
TOM: Hatfield and McCoy in SPAAAAACE!
> another isn't listening to any
>of my suggestions.
CROW: Well, I'm sure putting Backstreet Boys posters up over the power core _seems_
like a good idea, but--
> The whole department is falling to pieces around me and
>I don't know what to do."
MIKE: [Marrissa] Just remember, sweetie, mercy is for the weak.
> "I just heard about your initial letter of protest," Marrissa said. "And
>frankly, I'm surprised you've lasted this long. I plan on reprimanding
>Clara for putting you in this position when I get back, but that doesn't
>help you now, does it?"
> Jackie shook her head morosely.
> "It's Vigat and Dudley fighting over territory again, right?" Marrissa
>said. Jackie nodded.
CROW: And now, the comedy stylings of Vigat and Dudley!
> "Well, chose a dividing line, and stick to it.
TOM: So...what, they're gonna put masking tape down the middle of the
engine room?
MIKE: [Vigat] Stay away from those dilithium crystals, stupid-head! They're mine!
>Clara probably has one listed. She really gets tired of them going after
>each other. She's been complaining about those two since I took command of
>the Endeavor.
CROW: [Marrissa] Just stick them in a room together and smack them
until they get along.
> As for Reed, if he doesn't listen to orders, then relieve
>him, or stop him from doing anything else until he follows orders."
TOM: [Doom] BAH! I always knew Richards had no discipline!
> "But they won't listen to me, I'm only thirteen," Jackie said.
MIKE: Yeah. Odd, that, huh?
> "Jackie, when I was thirteen I was Chief CONN officer on the
>Enterprise-D," Marrissa said. "By the time I turned fourteen, I was Chief
>of Security on her successor.
CROW: You don't say. WE KNOW! WE KNOW! WE KNOOOOOOW!
> Age does not matter. Ability and rank do.
TOM: *sigh* She's off her meds again...
>You are simply the best Computer Security Officer the Enterprise has ever
>had."
MIKE: [Marrissa] You da man.
> "I'm the only one this Enterprise has had," Jackie interrupted.
ALL: D'OH! [laugh stupidly]
> "That may be so, but you still deserve the post as one of Clara's five
>Assistants," Marrissa continued. "I don't know why you were made Acting
>Chief, but I do know that you can do it. You directed a whole team of Star
>Fleet cryptographers during the war. Jackie, you've shown your talents in
>the area of leadership. Not much, but just enough for the Command Team to
>take notice.
MIKE: Well, that's damning with faint praise.
TOM: It was barely _darning_ with faint praise!
> You'll probably be put though many command tasks in the next
>couple years. We may even decide to send you to Command School some time
>down the road."
CROW: [Marrissa] Or we may sell you to the circus!
> "Really?" Jackie said, perking up.
> "Really," Marrissa said. "You may not have come through the unique events
>that lead to my quick path to command, but that may be for the better.
MIKE: Ya think?
> I
>was always too driven, and I think it's caused me some problems.
TOM: Ya know, I'm gonna forgo "Duh" and go straight to "Durhey" on
this one.
> Then
>again, Star Fleet went though two wars during the first five years of my
>career."
> "You had problems?" Jackie asked.
ALL groan.
TOM: [Marrissa] Oh, you haven't heard? Let me tell you ALL ABOUT THEM...
> "Of course I did," Marrissa said. "My career hasn't been all smooth
>sailing up the river of rank.
CROW: It hasn't? Sure seemed that way...
MIKE: Lemme check my notes...no, no, she did leap upward in rank in every one
of these stories.
> In fact, I think my rapid promotions in rank
>caused the most trouble. With you, we can afford to take some time.
MIKE: [Marrissa] I can mold you in my own freakish image!
> And I
>promise you, if you have any problems, you can always come to me."
TOM: [sings] You can count on me, no matter what you--[stops singing] I was
just singing the theme to My Two Dads! YOU SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN REDUCED
TO, RATLIFF?!
> "Thank you Marrissa," Jackie said.
ALL: May I have another?
> "Oh, and one thing, anything you ask with my proper name, it's unofficial,
>and private," Marrissa said. "Include the rank, and I take official notice
>and act as such. It's a simple way I use to separate the two roles."
CROW: [Marrissa] So if you give me personal information and call me Captain,
I'll use that to destroy you. Nothing personal.
> "I understand," Jackie said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a father
>who managed to forget my last birthday."
TOM: [Marrissa] Really? Who's that?
> "How did he manage to do that?" Marrissa said. "I think it's the first
>time he's missed any important date."
CROW: [Picard] February 17...sounds familiar for some reason...oh, yes, that
hour-long episode of Friends is on!
> "That's what I intend to find out," Jackie said. "I think Captain Gleason
>is looking for you."
MIKE: [Jackie] He wants to send you BANG-ZOOM! TO THE MOON!
> "I'll head the other way then. If I hear that Arnez V story again I'll
>die of boredom."
TOM: [mutters] As long as you die...
CROW: "Arnez V?" "Captain Gleason?" They finally get TV Land on your local
cable, Steve?
>
>Epilogue
ALL: YES! WOOHOO! (etc.)
> It didn't take Marrissa long to get back into the swing of things on the
>Enterprise.
CROW: A decapitation's like riding a bike; you never forget.
> No sooner than after she had gotten Sara to sleep back on the
>Enterprise, was she beginning to handle some of those things that had been
>left undone in her absence. Most of that was paperwork.
TOM: Some of it was genocide.
> She hoped to get
>most of it done by the time she returned to Romulas.
TOM: For the genocide.
MIKE: Stop saying "genocide."
> First thing she handled were the big things.
TOM: Like the GENOCIDE!
MIKE: Stop it!
TOM: [very quietly] I hate her, Mike.
MIKE: I know, I know...
> That being the Chief of
>Operations job. She noted that her father had finally found a replacement
>for her there, but Vice Admiral Data wouldn't be free for another week.
>She moved the Second Fleet from Vulcan to Betazed, and forwarded Commodore
>La Forge's complaints about still being in command to her father.
CROW: What, is Marrissa sucking up all the universe's ambition for herself?
> Then the
>First Fleet job, which she was going to have to keep, that didn't please
>Marrissa.
MIKE: Because, you know...
ALL: She hates titles.
> Promote Commander Ikari to fill the Captaincy of the
>Evangelical. Transfer Lieutenant Commander Saotome to be his First
>Officer. Hopefully that would be a good team.
TOM: Ikari and Saotome! I like it! It's got moxie! It's got zip!
It's got pizzazz!
> After an hour, she got to the Enterprise. First up, complaint from
>Lieutenant junior grade Jacqueline Picard, regarding temporary posting as
>Chief Engineer. Attached note from acting Captain Clarrissa
>Sutter-Rozhenko explaining the action.
CROW: Clarissa explains...oh, come on, he did that on purpose!
> Attached evaluation of acting First
>Officer, Alexander Rozhenko of Lieutenant Picard as Chief Engineer.
>Slightly above average marks, with notable improvement towards the end of
>assignment. Hmmm, reasoning looks solid, but better candidates where
>available.
TOM: AHHHHHHH! This is worse than an introduction scene!
> Then again, that would have taken the Chief of Security over,
>no that wouldn't have worked.
MIKE: Oh, no, THAT wouldn't have worked!
CROW: What are you, INSANE?!
> Jackie seemed to have done fine, but a
>warning to Clara was warranted. Schedule an appointment for tomorrow.
CROW: No one will be admitted during the "Marrissa's Busywork" scene...BECAUSE THE
EXITS WILL BE BOTTLENECKED WITH PEOPLE TRYING TO ESCAPE THE THEATER!
> Marrissa was deep into reviewing the logs made in her absence, by the time
>Jay got back to their quarters. He'd been stuck reviewing cadets at the
>Fighter Academy with Marrissa's father. Not really the most exciting task,
>but not really that boring either.
TOM: Oh, you want BORING, do you?!
> Jay snuck up behind Marrissa. "Boo."
MIKE: The acid in his face will teach him not to do that again.
> Marrissa jumped in her chair. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed.
> Jay embraced her. "Don't do what," he said, before kissing her.
TOM: [Marrissa] THAT! Stay away!
> "Scare me that way," Marrissa said. Then she noticed the tricorder in his
>hand. "What's that for?"
CROW: [Jay] Just doing a scan...okay, no strawberry juice in the vicinity.
> "I found it on the floor next to the replicator," Jay said. "Clara must
>have left it when she upgraded our replicator's memory."
> Marrissa looked at the read out, turning it so it scanned her better.
>"Jay, you are a rotten liar," she said, reading the results.
TOM: [Marrissa] And a terrible husband. And a lousy provider. And in
bed, you're--
> "So, you're upset with the results of our time off?" Jay asked, taking the
>tricorder and dropping it to the desk. He turned her around.
MIKE: [mutters] It's about time _someone_ turned her around...
> "Not really, I just wanted a little more time between children," Marrissa
>said.
ALL: AHHHHHHHHH!
CROW: It's called the PILL, Marrissa! Jeez! What, was Planned Parenthood abolished
in the future?!
MIKE: She's as fertile as Annette Bening!
> "Just tell me one thing, did this figure into the timing of you
>forcing my time off the Enterprise."
> "No, you needed it. This," Jay said, hugging her, "is merely a bonus."
TOM: Jay just doesn't get it, does he?
CROW: Just wait til they go to college...
> "You wouldn't say that if you had to have them," Marrissa said.
> "This from the girl who once told me that she enjoyed it and wanted a
>dozen of them?" Jay asked.
MIKE: A...dozen...[shudder] What is that, two hockey teams? Comprised of
Marrissa's mewling spawn?
> "I love children, and want lots of them," Marrissa clarified. "I don't
>like most of the process of having them. Especially the last couple of
>months."
CROW: Yeah, you're breaking our hearts. AAARRRGGGHHH!
> "This time, I promise you won't have to fight a war during them," Jay said.
> "When did you be acquire the gift of precognition?"
TOM: Hey, look, Marrissa's talkin' street!
> Marrissa asked, moving
>in to kiss him. All further conversation was lost to other tasks, until,
>of course, Sara woke up crying.
CROW: [Marrissa] Shaddap, kid! I've got a new baby to love now!
MIKE: You know, no one won any love by daylight in this fanfic. Can we sue?
TOM: So...tired...let's go...
[1...2...3...4...5...6...7]
[SOL. TOM, CROW, MIKE and GYPSY all stand around the counter. They are all
wearing suits and ties.]
TOM: ...all right, let's get this story meeting under way. I've just
read the final draft of our new production, "Winning Love By Daylight:
The Movie," and I am not happy.
MIKE: What's the problem, T.S.?
TOM: The problem is, there's enough plot holes in here for half a
dozen Jean-Claude Van Damme flicks!
CROW: Like what?
TOM: Okay, for starters: Who the hell is Mary Celeste Kinmore and why
do I give two tugs of a rat's tail about her?
MIKE: Well, she...uh...she represents Marrissa's fear of her own
mortality and lost youth. She's a mirror image.
TOM: Hey, that psychobabble crap may play in New York, but in the
flyover states, we gotta see it! We need to see this battle and
realize what's going on! Next--what's the deal with this
gargoyle?
CROW: What gargoyle?
TOM: Exactly! What gargoyle? The one that fell off the tower that Jay
and Martin commented on! What's it doing there? Is the tower
haunted? Is there a sinister force at work? Ya know, we've got a
hell of a lot of "House on Haunted Hill" stock footage left over.
Let's make the most of it!
CROW: Uh...T.S., I think it was just a gargoyle.
TOM: Then why are we mentioning it at all? Who are you? Do you work
here? We're writing a movie in here, ya know! Friggin' Harvard
boys...all right, the next problem. Kasey.
GYPSY: Oh! I know! I know!
TOM: Well?
GYPSY: Kasey is...uh...she's a time-traveling Sailor Scout,
and...uh...she works as a waitress.
TOM: A time traveling waitress.
GYPSY: Uh-huh.
TOM: Okay. Sure. BUT WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH THE STORY?
How does she fit in with the rich tapestry that is "Winning Love
By Daylight: The Movie?" Who is she? What moves her? Does she
wear a short skirt? Can you envision Britney Spears playing her?
This is the kinda stuff we need to know!
MIKE: Look, Tom...
TOM: "Tom?" Who's this "Tom?"
MIKE: Fine. Look, "T.S.," you're reading too much into this. The
driving force behind the story is Marrissa and her soul-
searching.
TOM: Oh, yeah, right. Let's put _that_ on the poster. I can see the
tag line now: "This Fourth of July Weekend, Get Ready To Search
Your Soul!" We're not makin' art here, Nelson. D'you think Denise
Richards signed on to this project because she wanted to play sex
scenes with the twitchy guy from Saving Private Ryan as Jay?
Hell, no! She wants to blow stuff up! She wants to fight polar
bears! That's another thing, where's the polar bear scene?!
CROW: We got Denise Richards in this movie?
TOM: Forget it! Just get outta my sight! Gypsy, get me William Goldman
on the phone! If he's not in, get me Shane Black! If he's not in,
get me Brannon Braga so I can yell at him!
GYPSY: There's a call on line 2, T.S.
TOM: Ah. Pearl, bubbie, what can I do you for?
[Castle Forrester. Pearl, Brain Guy and Bobo all stand there wearing
sharp suits and glasses.]
PEARL: Sorry, Tommy, we gotta shut you down. We represent the firm of
Forrester, Bobo and Guy, and our client is bringing an
injunction against this movie.
[STEPHEN RATLIFF steps out from behind the Mads.]
RATLIFF: That's right! I never gave permission for you to film any of
my stories!
BOBO: Do I get to bite them now?
PEARL: Not yet.
[SOL. Everyone is glaring at TOM.]
MIKE: Lemme get this straight...you were trying to do an _unauthorized_
Ratliff movie?!
TOM: [nervous] Hey, guys, we can work this out...Steve! Stevie! Baby!
Denise Richards, man!
[Castle Forrester.]
RATLIFF: Forget it, Servo. Erika Flores has the right of first refusal
to star in any Marrissa Picard projects.
PEARL: Well, that injunction oughtta wrap it up. Here's our bill, Steve.
[Pearl takes out a long, long scroll and hands it to Ratliff.
RATLIFF: Whoa! Uh...I don't think I have this much cash.
PEARL: Well, that's all right...all we ask is worldwide distribution
rights to your next three fanfics.
[SOL.]
CROW: Next three...you IDIOT, Servo!
TOM: It's not _my_ fault! It...uh...I'm not Tom! I'm Tom's split
personality, Pierre!
CROW: You hold him, Mike. I'm gonna go get a towel and a bunch of
oranges.
MIKE: We'll wait. [grabs Servo] "Pierre." You moron!
TOM: STEVE! WAIT! Come on, Denise is perfect for Marrissa! She's
young, athletic, and looks like she'd gnaw your eyes out of your
skull! DON'T SIGN!
[Castle Forrester. Ratliff is signing the contract on Bobo's back.]
BOBO: Feel free to grab some mites while you're back there!
BG: I wouldn't. I can assure you, they don't taste like chicken.
RATLIFF: Uh...that's okay. Here ya go, Pearl! Expect the first draft of
"M & M" next week!
PEARL: Sure thing! [to the screen] And _you_ can expect it right
after that, Griffin Mill! AH HA HA HA HA HA!
[Fade out on maniacal laughter.]
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations
are trademarks of and copyrighted by Best Brains, Inc. All rights
reserved. Star Trek in all its incarnations, and its related characters
and situations, are trademarks of and copyrighted by Paramount Studios.
Anything written by Stephen Ratliff not owned by Paramount is copyright
Stephen Ratliff. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its related characters and
situations are trademarks of and copyrighted by the WB, 20th Century Fox,
and Mutant Enemy. Teletubbies and its related characters are trademarks of
and copyrighted by Ragdoll Productions (UK) Ltd.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for non-commercial parody,
review, and commentary purposes only; no infringement on the original
copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc., Paramount, Inc.,
or anyone else, is intended or should be inferred. This credit sequence
was stolen with little or no guilt from the group MiSTing of Premier
Maquis. Junior Bunk took it downtown. When in Hollywood, take the
Universal Studio tour. Ask for Babs!
Are you ready to start MiSTing yourself, you funky party weasel?
If so, just subscribe to the dibs list by sending an e-mail
message to majordomo@pinky.wtower.com with the
message "subscribe dibslist [<your name>]" in the message
body. Then you too can make the funny noises!
Keep circulating the posts.
Twang.
> "Anyway, Marrissa is going to have to face the fact that there are some
>things beyond her control," Martin said, as a monster appeared just outside
>the restaurant's door.
�
Return to the Marrissa archive index