[Opening Theme] [SATELLITE OF LOVE - Mike is on the bridge, reading a copy of "Us" Magazine with Jennifer Lopez on the cover (which is to say pretty much any copy of "Us" Magazine). He is surrounded by Crow, Tom and Gypsy] CROW: Please? MIKE: No. TOM: Please? MIKE: No. GYPSY: Pretty please? MIKE: No. [looks up] Oh, hi all. Mike Nelson up here on the Satellite of Love... CROW: Yeah, Mike "Spoilsport" Nelson! TOM: Mike "Stodgy Old Fart" Nelson! GYPSY: Mike "Michael" Nelson! MIKE: Look, I - huh? Well, never mind. Anyway, we all stayed up to watch a movie marathon last night, and now the bots are being obsessive. CROW: We're not obsessive, Mike, we just want to celebrate a little! MIKE: I just don't think it'd be appropriate. TOM: Oh, *now* he's worried about propriety! CROW: C'mon, Nelson, it'll be a blast! GYPSY: Yeah, let our funny flag fly high! MIKE: I'd just feel - I dunno, kinda odd about it, is all! CROW: Oh come on, where's that zany, fun-loving Mike Nelson who used to hang out here, huh? MIKE: [Wavering] Well-l-l-l... GYPSY: Do it for Otis Driftwood! MIKE: Otis Driftwood? TOM: Do it for Dr. Hugo Z. Hackenbush! MIKE: For Dr. Hackenbush. CROW: Do it, Mike! Do it - for Captain Geoffrey T. Spaulding! MIKE: [stands to attention] For CAPTAIN SPAULDING! Yes! Okay, I'll, I'll do it, then! CROW: That's the spirit, Mike! GYPSY: Yeah! TOM: Let's go! [All sprint off. Then Mike returns.] MIKE: Hello, we must be going. But we'll be right back. [taps light] COMMERCIALS 1) Steven Spielberg presents "Taken" - over and over and over... 2) Bowflex - because who *doesn't* want to spend an obscene amount of money on useless exercise equipment? 3) Use 1-800-CALL-ATT or we keep Carrot Top on the air! And don't think we won't, cuz we will if you make us! [SOL - The crew is now in high spirits (mostly). Mike's dressed in a long swallowtail coat, with a pair of bushy eyebrows, glasses, a greasepaint mustache and brandishing a huge cigar. Tom is all decked out in a tweed jacket and a small, oddly-shaped hat. Gypsy sports a bright yellow- orangish fright wig and battered top hat, with what looks like a bicycle horn in her mouth. Crow is - well, Crow. And he's not happy about it. For the balance of this host seg, Mike speaks with a Groucho Marx-like voice, and Servo uses an exaggerated Italian accent, a la Chico Marx] MIKE: So how much do you charge for not playing *and* not rehearsing? TOM: Ah, you couldn't afford it. GYPSY: *honk* CROW: [shaking head] I still think I was robbed. MIKE: Nonsense, my good man. We drew straws, fair and square. It's not my fault you can't draw - even if you *are* fairly square. CROW: It's still not - I mean, it was *my* idea in the first place! MIKE: Look, it's all right here in the contract. TOM: Hey, whatsa that clause right there? MIKE: This part is the part that says you gotta be in your right mind to do this. It's called the sanity clause. TOM: The what? MIKE: Oh, I shoulda stayed away from that one, I can see right now. [Lights flash] CROW: Uh-oh, brace yourselves, guys! It's Flywheel, Shyster & Flywheel. MIKE: And two hard-boiled eggs. GYPSY: *honk* MIKE: Make that three hard-boiled eggs. [Castle Forrester] PEARL: Hello, Mike, I - [pause] What in the... [SOL] MIKE: Ah, Mrs. Rittenhouse! Say the secret woid and a duck'll fly down and give you $50. TOM: Yeah, but vhy a duck? [CF] PEARL: Huh? Listen, what're you clowns up to... [SOL] CROW: Oh, hi Pearl. It's kinda... TOM: Sorry, lady, you can't come in unless you givea da password. MIKE: Say, what *is* the password? TOM: Aw, no! You gotta tell me. Hey, I tell you what I do. I give you three guesses. It's the name of a fish. MIKE: Is it Poil? TOM: Ha-ha. That's-a no fish. MIKE: She isn't? Well, she drinks like one GYPSY: *honk* [CF] PEARL: Okay, what's the gag here? Art! Tell me what's going on! [SOL] CROW: Well, y'see... MIKE: Art? Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water! And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does. CROW: Um, can you give us a second here, Rufus? MIKE: Hpmh - I've got a good mind to join a club and beat you over the head with it. CROW: Right. Basically, what's happened is we had a little Marx Brothers Film Festival last night, so we decided to indulge ourselves a bit. We all drew straws, so Mike is Groucho, Tom's Chico and Gypsy's Harpo. And I - uh - I'm Zeppo. [CF - Pearl has been joined by Observer and Bobo] OBSERVER: Well, at least you're not Gummo. *snicker* BOBO: Oh, I like gummo. Especially Juicy Fruit. It's just so... PEARL: Pipe down, youse two! So, unauthorized film activity, eh?!? That is *completely* unacceptable! Nelson, I demand that you... [SOL] MIKE: Ah, Poil! Can't you see what I'm trying to say, I love you! Meet me tonight under the moon! Just think, when the moon is sneaking around the clouds, I'll be sneaking around you! I can see it now - you and the moon! You wear a necktie so I'll know it's you! [Crow suddenly runs past, chased by Gypsy honking frantically] CROW: AAAAH!! GYSPY, CUT IT OUT! GYPSY: *honk**honk**honk**honk**honk* [Both zoom offstage] MIKE: That's the first time I ever saw a taxi chase a passenger. [CF] PEARL: Look, you cretins, I - Ooh! [stomps foot] BOBO: Hey, I saw this on Turner Classics last night! It was funny! PEARL: Shut up, monkey business! This is *not* funny! OBSERVER: Let me try to reason with them, Madam. *ahem* Greetings, gentlemen, I.... [SOL] TOM: Hey, don't I know-a you? [CF] OBSERVER: Well, of course, I'm the Observer. [SOL] TOM: Nah, that ain't it. Hey, I got it! You're Brainy the fish guy! You remember him, right? GYPSY: *honk* [CF] OBSERVER: I most certainly am not! I am the nigh-omnipotent, nigh- omniscient Observer, before whom you are all as amoebas! BOBO: Amoebae. OBSERVER: Whatever! [SOL] TOM: Nah nah, I remember you now - Brainy da fish guy. You used to sell fish down at-a da pier. GYPSY: *honk* [CF] OBSERVER: I did no such thing! I am - okay, one time, but... [SOL] TOM: Ay, I knew it, huh? You're Brainy da Fish Guy! GYPSY: *honk* [Tom prances about chanting "Brainy the Fish Guy" as Gypsy honks] [CF] OBSERVER: Now see here! I - you - oh dear. PEARL: Okay, that's it, Nelstaff! I try and I try to make your existence as dreary and unbearable as possible, and *this* is the thanks I get! It's my own fault, I suppose - I simply haven't tried everything to suck as much of the fun out of your lives as I can. Booboo - hand me to it. BOBO: Yes, Lawgiver. [hands Pearl a zip disk initialed "R&PD"] PEARL: I was hoping to save this for a special occasion, but I think you need to see it now. Do you know what this is? [SOL] CROW: Hmmm - "Rich & Poor Derivatives"? MIKE: "Ritzy & Pretty Dames"? TOM: Nah, datsa no good. It stands for "Left Handed Moths". [Pause] MIKE: Y'know, you've got the brain of a 4-year old boy, and I bet he was glad to get rid of it. [CF] PEARL: [exasperated] No, you stale animal crackers! It's the latest Marrissa story from none other than Stephen Ratliff! [ SOL ] MIKE: You expect that to frighten me? A man who's licked his weight in wild caterpillars? [ CF ] PEARL: Look, can it, capisce?!? This story's called "Royal and Prime Directives", and it has about as much to do with Star Trek as coat hangers and JuJuBees! BOBO: Oh, but there's lots of royalty in it, though. PEARL: [smiles evilly] That's right - lots and lots and *lots* of Royalty! So eat it, ya lousy Marxists! [SOL] MIKE: Ratliff, eh? This is an outrage! Jameson, take a letter to my lawyers - Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga & McCormick! CROW: [writing] Right. Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga & McCormick. MIKE: You let out a Hungadunga. The most important one, too. [Lights flash] TOM: Hey, never mind that now, boss! We gotsa da MOVIE SIGN!!! [Gypsy continues honking furiously as chaos, doors, etc. ensues] [6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O [All enter - and are back to their normal voices] TOM: Welp, Too bad our little psycho-drama didn't protect us from Pearlikins. MIKE: [removing Tom's little hat] Yeah, but at least we had our fun. CROW: Easy for you to say, Nelson - next time, *you* get to be Zeppo! >Path: sn-us!sn-xit-02!supernews.com! CROW: Faster than a speeding flamewar! MIKE: More powerful than a FAQmaster! TOM: Able to leap huge binaries in a single bound! > newsfeed.direct.ca!look.ca! >newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newsmaster1.prod. >itd.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED! >not-for-mail >From: Stephen Ratliff TOM: Crosswinds, huh? That's nice, I guess, but... *sniff* MIKE: Tom? TOM: Sorry. *sniff* I just kinda miss the old Radford domain. MIKE: You sentimentalist, you. >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives MIKE: Crown Royale and Prime Rib? Now *there's* a directive I can go for! > (Marrissa Stories) 0/16 >Message-ID: >X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548 >MIME-Version: 1.0 >Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii >Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit >Lines: 40 CROW: Heeey, it's gonna be a *short* Marrissa story! TOM: Yeah, *that'll* be the day! >Date: Tue, 04 Dec 2001 02:47:28 GMT >NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.80.217.245 >X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net >X-Trace: newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1007434048 216.80.217.245 >(Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:28 PST) >NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:28 PST >Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net TOM: And just in case you missed it - EarthLink. >X-Received-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:22 PST (newsmaster1.prod. >itd.earthlink.net) >Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:155263 > >Title: Royal and Prime Directives TOM: In England they call it a Royale Prime with... MIKE: I think we've done that joke to death by now. >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories >Part: NEW 1/16 Serialized Weekly CROW: And satirized weakly. >Rating: [PG] >Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain >who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation > CROW: [Marrissa] Hey, what's the deal, bub? *I'm* the only royal in *this* Starfleet! >Author's Notes: > CROW: [Stephen] Stop at dry cleaners. Call Susie for lunch. Set out fresh Alpo for Scooter. >It's been a while since I've had something new to post here. TOM: All good things... > My muse has >been a little more rare since I got a job. > MIKE: [Stephen] The well-done ones gave me big time heartburn! >The story you are about to read was orginally started in 1995. TOM: "Orginally". 15 lines. Who wins the pool? MIKE: [checking something] Hold on... Magic Voice. MAGIC VOICE: Boo-yah! > It's gone >through many changes, since that time, CROW: Originally, it was about a 75-year old Wal-Mart greeter named Zeke and his wise-cracking pet llama, Chester. > and finally it's ready for you to >read it. MIKE: [Stephen] I finally figured out a way to deliver electric shocks over the Internet! > At present, the end of the story is not quite ready, but that's >not a problem. > TOM: [Stephen] I plan to have a truck run over everyone at the end. >You see, I'm a frim believer in serialization. CROW: New Frim cereal - now with extra fiber for extra-ASC action! > Royal and Prime Directives >will be coming to you, one part, one chapter, a week, just like the other >of my stories have come to you. MIKE: Thus making our every waking moment a living nightmare on a *regular* basis. > Every month there will be a repost of >previous chapters, as well. TOM: Now there's something to look forward to in your mailbox. > I may speed up or slow down the posting, based >on demand, and my muse. [Crow does speeded-up tape player noises] > My muse may also render that part number wrong, TOM: His parts supplier is relabeling everything in the catalog. >but I don't think so, at the moment. > CROW: So Ratliff's muse is responsible for all the errors in his stories? MIKE: I don't think that's possible for just one muse. >For those of you who haven't read my works, CROW: Count your blessings. > that shouldn't be a problem for >the most part with this story, but if you are curious about just how >Marrissa got to where she is in the beginning of this story, you can check >out: > >http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff > TOM: The shrine of evil. CROW: Alternatively, you could poke your eyes out with a knitting needle. >I, as always eagerly await feedback, of all types. > MIKE: [Ratliff] Even from those three guys up in the space station. >Stephen >-- >Stephen Ratliff > >"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family > MIKE: SNORRRRRRRRE!! TOM: Pheeeeeeeeew!! CROW: Eebeebeebeebeebeeb!! >Path: sn-us!sn-xit-03!supernews.com!nntp.cs.ubc.ca!newsfeed.direct.ca! >look.ca!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net! >newsmaster1.prod.itd.earthlink.net!newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net. >POSTED!not-for-mail >From: Stephen Ratliff >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives(Marrissa Stories) 1/16 >Message-ID: >X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548 TOM: Now *that's* an irregular fraction! CROW: 0.05530293... TOM: Oh, don't be a show-off! >MIME-Version: 1.0 >Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii >Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit >Lines: 83 >Date: Tue, 04 Dec 2001 02:47:23 GMT >NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.80.217.245 >X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net >X-Trace: newsread2.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1007434043 216.80.217.245 (Mon, >03 Dec 2001 18:47:23 PST) >NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:23 PST >Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net >X-Received-Date: Mon, 03 Dec 2001 18:47:17 PST >(newsmaster1.prod.itd.earthlink.net) >Xref: sn-us alt.startrek.creative:155262 > >Title: Royal and Prime Directives MIKE: First Directive: Enforce the law. >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org TOM: The spamproofing! It's impenetrable! >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories >Part: NEW 1/16 Serialized Weekly >Rating: [PG] >Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet CROW: Yep, it's a planet. The End. > where a starship Captain >who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation > >Prologue > > It had become deathly still in Enterprise-E's bar. MIKE: Someone had ordered an Old Milwaukee. Willingly. TOM: Plus Data was doing stand up again. > The bar had >been full of activity. Everyone was still there, TOM: o/` Closing time - you don't have to go home but you can't stay here. o/` > but they were all staring >at Lieutenant Ferguson Calgary MIKE: And his roommate, Ensign McGillicudy Saskatoon. > and Lieutenant Marrissa Picard. TOM: A.K.A. The Devil You Know". > Lieutenant >Calgary was La Forge's new second assistant. Picard was the Chief of >Security. CROW: And me? I'm just your friendly omniscient narrator. Have a good evening, folks. > As for why they were being stared at, that was Calgary's fault. TOM: She'd told him tutus weren't considered proper Starfleet attire. >He had just insulted Picard by questioning her right to hold her position, MIKE: Memorial services will be Thursday at 4:00 PM in the ship's chapel. >insinuating that she had got the position because her father was Captain. CROW: Sleeping her way to the t- wait that doesn't apply here. TOM: He's wrong of course. She got it due to deus ex braindeath on Starfleet's part. >But that was not why Marrissa was mad at him. CROW: [Marrissa] I so can't believe you didn't get me *squat* for my birthday!! MIKE: [Calgary] But you said I shouldn't buy you anything! CROW: [Marrissa] And you didn't! How *dare* you?!? > " Don't call me that. MIKE: [Marrissa] Call me Ishmael! > My name is Marrissa Amber Picard. My title >is Princess. My rank is Lieutenant. My job is Chief of Security," MIKE: [Marrissa] My favorite color is blue. TOM: [Marrissa] My broker is E.F. Hutton. CROW: [Marrissa] My turn-ons are Mozart, long walks on the beach and conquering aliens. >Marrissa began, standing up from her seat. "I'd appreciate it if you would >call me by any name or title that I am entitled to use instead of Risa" CROW: A Marrissa story by any other name would still bore me to death. > "Oh the poor little baroness can't stand a nickname," Calgary >sneered back. MIKE: Wow! He *is* taking his life in his hands, isn't he? TOM: Yeah, sure. By the end of this, he'll either be dead or Marrissa's newest boot-licking sycophant. > "If you're going for royal titles, it's Princess," Marrissa >responded. TOM: [Marrissa] As in, "Off with his head!" Get it, Montreal? CROW: [Calgary] Calgary. TOM: [Marrissa] Whatever. > "Oh I'm not, Miss Ensign." > "Lieutenant." TOM: When they get to Commander, sell! > "I stand corrected, Miss Insecurity." CROW: Y'know, even granted that it's Marrissa, it's still probably not real smart to go out of your way to antagonize the security chief. MIKE: [Marrissa] What's that, Fergie? Trapped by J'Em Hadar Troops? Don't worry, I'll send down a rescue squad - just as soon as I finish all of last month's paperwork! BWHAHAHAHAH!!!! > "I don't have to listen to this." TOM: [grumbles] Yeah, but we do... > "No, you don't," Calgary shot back. "You can go hide behind those >titles of yours. Tell me Risa, is their anything under them?" [All sigh] MIKE: And there we go. CROW: Or their we go. TOM: Or even they're we go. > Marrissa glared at Calgary. MIKE: The sprawling Canadian city will soon be drenched in strawberry juice. > She raised her hand as if she was >going to slap him, CROW: Suddenly a hockey game breaks out! > but apparently decided against it. MIKE: Instead reaching for her trusty phaser. > Marrissa turned away >and walked out of the bar. TOM: Thus nullifying the joke. > From over on the other side of the bar, Commander William T. Riker >moved out of the shadows. CROW: [Kosh] Riker has always been here. > "Mr. Calgary, you've got some explaining to >do..." > CROW: [Lucy] But Riker, waaaaaaaah!! > Marrissa sat in her room lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. MIKE: [Marrissa] When did I get mirrors installed up there? CROW: [Marrissa] And what's that "fap fap fap" sound I keep hearing? >She had been unable to get Calgary's last words out of her mind. TOM: [Calgary] Straw... berry... fields... > Was there >nothing to her without her titles? MIKE: Well, there's her obsession with strawberries. TOM: And let's not forget her fantastic piano playing. CROW: Plus, there's her browbeating of Jay Gordon. That'll get you up in the morning. > Lately, it seemed like that was true. She did nothing but work. CROW: It's called a "job", Marrissa - look into it! TOM: [Mel Brooks] Work, work, work, work, work, work! >She hadn't had any time off since she had boarded the Enterprise-E, some >three months ago. MIKE: Please - don't talk to *me* about bad work experiences. > Her off duty hours were filled with classes and Kid's Crew >business. TOM: And destroying alien races, brokering peace treaties, quashing mutinies! Oh! And decoupage! > In fact that night had been the first time she had gotten to the >Enterprise-E's bar. MIKE: And now she was sloshed out of her skull. > Marrissa couldn't remember doing something not associated with her >jobs since she had become Chief of Security. CROW: Hey, after all she drank tonight, she's lucky she remembered where her quarters were! > All the other senior officers >had spare time to do other things, why didn't she? > TOM: [Marrissa] *Sigh* Man, building an evil empire is such a drag! > Prince Avery, CROW: *Tex* Avery. MIKE: And his consort, Red Hot Princess Hood! TOM: *A-wooooooooooo!* > son of King Robert of Ellosia, was riding among the >fields of Suppor. MIKE: He had already passed the meadows of Lonch and the glades of Breakfost. > They were part of the Earldom which he held title to, as >heir to the throne, not that the job meant much. CROW: Oh! They're British royalty! > His father always told >him that there would be a time when he'd wish he still was just the heir. MIKE: It's the Frank Sinatra Jr. Story. >As Avery saw it, being Crown Prince had very little to recommend it. CROW: Apart from the life of comfortable luxury, the foxy royal babes- in-waiting and wanting for nothing, being Crown Prince sucks. > He >was expected to know everything his father knew, but could do nothing about >it. He had no choice in his eventual bride. MIKE: Although ABC did give him some roses to hand out. > Though he preferred the oldest daughter of the Duchess of >Castrome. TOM: He wants Castro's eldest daughter? Man, is he messed up! > Unfortunately, the thirteen-year-old Lady was not considered >high on the list for the sixteen-year-old Prince. CROW: But his cousin, Prince Jerry Lee, was all over her. > The Duchess had little >influence in court, while the other Dukes, who had been around since his >Father took the throne, did. MIKE: Especially that up-and-coming Sir Edmund Blackadder. > The Dukes were putting forward various >foreign Princesses. CROW: [Waylon] Yep, them Duke boys was at it again - this time they'd tricked Sheriff Coltrane into marrying old Lucretia Dalrymple. > The Duke of Armedge had suggested Princess Clotilda MIKE: Note to all future royalty: avoid giving your princesses names that start with "clot". >of Janvart, a hulk of a woman TOM: HULK SMASH PUNY PRINCE!!! > who some said slept in full armor. MIKE: I hope she doesn't *swim* in full armor > The Duke of >Avtra was always spouting the merits of Princess Fay of Grimall. TOM: As well as emphasizing her vast real estate holdings. > Avery had >met Princess Fay, during a peace negotiation a couple years back. CROW: They were settling some ... hundred year ... war of the rose ... bushes or something. Doesn't matter what. > The >fragile health of the tiny little girl would never survive the sea voyage >across the straights of Astra, TOM: This reads like "How The Grinch Stole Royalty"! > much less the month long journey from her >home, besides, she was too quiet for his tastes. MIKE: He preferred them loud, brassy, and obnoxious. CROW: [Avery] I'd let her risk a horrible death at sea, but she's too quiet! > The Duke of Fasstime ALL: Aloha, Duke Hand! >was set on Avery's marriage to Queen Kaitlin of Dinath. TOM: So we know who's in the Kaitlin with Dinath. MIKE: Wow. An exposition sequence combined with a introduction sequence. I think Ratliff's hit a new personal high. > The match with someone >three times his age CROW: Charles Nelson Reilly - but it's enough for a win. > was not something he wanted to dwell on. TOM: This is diverting and all, but why've we been dropped into the middle of "Ivanhoe" all of a sudden? MIKE: *sigh* I have a feeling we'll find out before long. > There were times when Avery wished his father had never chosen to >take the throne. Avery sighed, it wasn't likely that another starship >would crash and her crew take over. MIKE: Really? Why not? CROW: Yeah, it's standard Trek plot #114. > He looked up to see the first star of >the night rising ... CROW: Sandra Bullock's flying lessons are paying off. > it was time to head back to Odyssey > TOM: We've got the backstory, now, run! Run like the wind! >-- >Stephen Ratliff > >"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family" > CROW: He had a dream. TOM: He had an *awesome* dream. >From ???@0x000060FC Mon Dec 10 17:56:29 2001 >From: Stephen Ratliff >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 2/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories) >Message-ID: >X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.8/32.548 TOM: FORTE AGENT ONE POINT EIGHT BACKSLASH THREE TWO POINT FIVE FOUR EIGHT!!! MIKE: Ow! TOM: See, cause forte means loud. >MIME-Version: 1.0 >Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii >Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit >Lines: 369 >Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2001 20:26:22 GMT >NNTP-Posting-Host: 63.16.66.28 >X-Complaints-To: abuse@earthlink.net >X-Trace: newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net 1008015982 63.16.66.28 (Mon, >10 Dec 2001 12:26:22 PST) >NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2001 12:26:22 PST >Organization: EarthLink Inc. -- http://www.EarthLink.net >X-Received-Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2001 12:26:24 PST >(newsmaster1.prod.itd.earthlink.net) >Path: corp-news.newsgroups.com!propagator-la!news-in-la.newsfeeds.com! >newsfeed.direct.ca!look.ca!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!newsfeed.earthlink.net! >newsmaster1.prod.itd.earthlink.net!newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net.POSTED! >not-for-mail >Xref: news4 alt.startrek.creative:104527 MIKE: Hey, I think that's the title of a Yes album! >Status: N > >Title: Royal and Prime Directives >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories >Part: NEW 2/16 CROW: That's 1/8 in lowest terms. > Serialized Weekly TOM: For your protection. >Rating: [PG] >Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain >who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation > TOM: And is vanquished with ridiculous ease by the crew of Voyager. CROW: So what else is new? >Chapter One: Tavern > TOM: Immediately followed by "Chapter Two: Drunktank". > Captain Picard took a deep breath as he entered the tavern. MIKE: [Picard] Mmmm, fresh-baked cookies. >Ah, the smell of the local ale. CROW: It reminded him of wet Tellarites on a muggy summer day. > It had been thirty years since he had been in >the Lonely Dragon. MIKE: The statute of limitation expired the moment he stepped in! > The town of Alripor TOM: Huh? The town of Al Roker? > was literally light-years off >ship's usual station. CROW: But somehow less than 12 parsecs if you're in the Millennium Falcon. > It was nice to see that some things stayed the same. TOM: His hairline... MIKE: Stinky French cheese... CROW: Rick Berman's insatiable moneylust... > True, the >barkeeper's hair was no longer sandy brown, CROW: He was shaved bald, and wearing a jacket made of hemp. > and the signs of wear were more >evident along the edge of the bar. TOM: Although some of the dents fit the foreheads of the people he knew! > Most of the patrons were unfamiliar to >Picard, but it had been quite sometime. There was an old sea captain, CROW: Arrrh, Jim lad! >a young man with a young woman on his lap, MIKE: Or it could have been a young woman with a man on her lap. Picard decided he was better off not knowing. > a man in an old ducal tunic, TOM: It was made of duckskin? CROW: It rubs the lotion on its feathers... >and a couple men who were quite drunk. MIKE: Then there was Paul the real estate novelist who never had time for a wife. He's talking with Davy who's still in the Navy and probably will be for life. > "Ah Captain, it's been some time since this establishment has seen >your like," the barkeep said. CROW: [Barkeep] Someone who's had a bath this year! > "Twenty-two years, I believe," Picard said. "I decided to return >to sail the seas of my youth for the last year before I retire." MIKE: Translation - Sad old man trolling for young tail. > "Old Captains never retire, they go down with their ship!" a old >seaman in the corner shouted. CROW: [Picard] So what are you doing here, then? TOM: [seaman] Um... shore leave? > "It's a harsh life on the sea, and only a couple men survive on the >Stargazer since the last time I set foot in Alripor," the Captain >acknowledged. MIKE: [Picard] I killed the rest myself. Shame really, but someone had to. > "Times change. TOM: And newspapers evolve. > I figure I'll retire while I still have my >health. MIKE: [Picard] Funny, my - my arm is numb. I - it - *thunk* > Then I'll settle down in my family's village up in the high valley >below the Double Peaks." CROW: [Picard] I've bought a house just below the Great Northern Hotel, and I've met a lovely girl named Laura Palmer. > "You won't last away from the sea," the old seaman said. "I've >plied the coves and seas around this isle for half a century, MIKE: And still you don't have a job. > and I've yet >to see a old seaman who could stay away from the sea." CROW: [Picard] I repeat: what are you doing here, then? TOM: [seaman] Look, can't a guy have a holiday once in a while? > "'It is a wild call, a clear call, MIKE: A 1-800-COLLECT call! > which can not be denied,'" >Picard quoted. MIKE: But enough about becoming a Rescue Ranger. > "True, so true, it's a story that we never want to end," the old >seaman remarked. ALL: Unlike this one. > "Speaking of tales, I hear there is an interesting one regarding >how this land received it's current king," the Captain said. "Perhaps you >know the tale." CROW: Good segue, Jean-Luc! TOM: He's got all the subtlety of a Joint Congressional Inquiry. > "Old Giles knows it, he was there," the barkeeper said. MIKE: [Giles] Was not! CROW: [Barkeep] Was so! MIKE: [Giles] Big fat liar! CROW: [Barkeep] Scurvy little snitch! > "Aye," the sea captain said. "I know the tale." TOM: [Captain] 'Tis the tale of a fateful trip! It started from this tropic port... > "Barkeep, a round on me, while Giles tells his tale," Picard said. CROW: [Giles] Yes, you see I was assisting my charge, the Slayer, in our investigation of an undead ice cream truck driver... > "It was twenty years ago last Spring. MIKE: Sgt. Pepper taught the band to swing! > I was working as First Mate >on the fishing vessel Herold's Hawk CROW: Starring Bruce Willis and Danny Aiello! > out of the village of Bluepor," TOM: And its neighboring town, Praktikal Joak. >Giles began his tale. > "Hey, last time you said you were Second Mate," a young man with a >day's growth of beard said from his seat beside a blonde lass. MIKE: [Young man] And you were wearing a full body cast. And it was sleeting. And you had to walk to school uphill both ways. And the fish was ten feet long. > "And the time before that, Third," the blonde said. CROW: And before that, he was the ship's purser, Gopher. > "Okay, I was just a Midshipman," Giles said. "Any way ..." TOM: [Giles] But we had Staubach back in those days! > It wasn't a big ship, CROW: It's all in how you use it. > just a single mast and only 50 yards long, >but the late Captain Mallard, [All make quacking noises] > God rest his kind soul, paid well. MIKE: [Giles] In fact, I still don't know why we stripped him naked, tied him to the anchor, and tossed him overboard! > We were >just about to enter Sapphire Bay, when we first heard it. > TOM: [Giles] It was horrible! A terrible screech powerful enough to jostle the very corners of Hell itself! MIKE: [Picard] It wasn't by any chance a group called Genesis, was it? TOM: [Giles] Yes, how'd you know? > It came from the sky. TOM: IN MONSTER-RAMA 3-D! CROW: AND THUNDERSOUND! > A white marble stone, shaped like two dinner >plates placed so their bottoms faced out wards, was descending from the >sky. MIKE: And mashed potatoes and peas and applesauce were leaking out from the middle, I mean, it was just gross! > It made a ear splitting roar as it skipped like a stone on thrown >across a pond. TOM: From the sky. > I spun the wheel, to avoid the object as it impacted the >water, making another hop into the bay. CROW: From the sky. MIKE: Cut that out! > The Herold's Hawk was pushed back, >on to the rocks MIKE: That ain't no big surprise. CROW: Yeah, just pour me a drink and I'll tell you some lies. > on the east side of the entrance to the bay. TOM: Hey, do you mind? We're saving this spot for the Mayflower. > Only the >extraordinary swell created by the saucer's bounce saved us from being >hulled by the rocks. CROW: Yeah, I think Popeye was saved by that trick once. > After a brief check to make sure that we weren't leaking, MIKE: [Giles] Thanks to the wonders of Depends... > Captain >Mallard ordered us to sail for the town of Sappor, at the back of the bay. TOM: Translation - Beat cheeks! >The Captain feared, rightly it turns out, that the object we had just >avoided was headed towards the town. TOM: Didn't I read this in Watchmen? > Now Sappor at the time was one of the largest of our towns, just >short of becoming a city. CROW: [Giles] Of course, you'd know that, being from this planet and all. > It was known as resort, its baths being renown >for their healing purposes. MIKE: Not to mention their scrubbing bubbles. CROW: They work hard so you don't have toooooooooo. > For years, Kings have maintained a castle on >the harbor there, TOM: After centuries of trying it the other way around. > as sort of a retreat from the business of court, which >use to be set in the city of Vestra. CROW: [Giles] But, again, a native of this planet would know that, so why am I even explaining it to you? > It had been the custom of King >Ferral, MIKE: King *Will* Ferral. TOM: He entertained the court with his Dubya impression. > the ninth of that name, to spend the winter and early part of >spring in Sappor, and he was residing in the Castle, along with all the >royal family at the time. TOM: Hey, Giles? Signal when you get near a point! > When the town of Sappor appeared, we were shocked. The harbor >was gone. The Castle was gone. MIKE: The Costco Warehouse Store was gone. The Jiffy Lube was gone. All 85 Starbucks were gone. > The only buildings left standing were the >old Grey Eagle Inn, which was on the east end of town, and the Church of >Our Lady of the Sea on the west end of town. CROW: Somebody call in Secret Squirrel! *And* Atom Ant! Hurry! > Between the two was the large >saucer which had embedded itself where the harbor use to be, extending back >to the old edge of town. CROW: Sounds like "Alien Nation". TOM: Nah, more like "Haven" to me. MIKE: You guys really scare me sometimes. > Around it's edges were the crushed remains of the >town of Sappor. > MIKE: Yeah, we gathered. Thanks. > At that, the man in the tattered ducal tunic interrupted. "It >wasn't damaged that bad. CROW: Ah, Spokesman for the Sappor Realtors Commission here. > I visited the town a month after the disaster, >and there were plenty of houses standing." > > "Whose telling this story?" TOM: The Stephen Ratliff Motto. > Giles said, gesturing with his glass of >ale. CROW: So, it's the booze talking? > After a moment's silence, he took up the tale again. > TOM: And Cecil B. DeMillertime continues... > After staring at the remains for what seamed like an eternity, >Captain Mallard CROW: ...Put on a cape and shouted "I am the terror that flaps in the night!" > decided to send a boat to look for survivors and lend any >aid. We went armed with our swords, MIKE: They're going to *kill* the survivors? I fail to see how that helps. > as we had no idea where this saucer >had come from. TOM: Gee, you don't think *the sky* would be a safe bet, do ya? > I was on the first boat, and it was when we came ashore on the west >side of the saucer that I met the lady who would become our Queen. CROW: I asked myself, "Is this a real life? Is this just fantasy?" > She was >dressed in a strange blue and black outfit and was leading a group of five >people in freeing a young girl from the wreckage of a house. CROW: Caught in a landslide, no escape from... TOM: Shut up! > Queen Claire was a Doctor, ALL: Not a bricklayer. > apparently from the vessel which had >crashed into Sappor. As we worked to free the young girl, and others, I >learnt many things from watching her and her fellow crewmates. TOM: Too bad how to tell a shorter story wasn't one of them. > The ship >was called the Odyssey, after a famous voyage in their homeland, which lies >far beyond the stars. MIKE: Produced by Roger Corman. > They claimed that their ship was damaged and they >had no choice but to make a crash landing. CROW: And being rock stupid, you accepted that without question. > All that day we spent freeing people. TOM: They're with Amnesty Interstellar. > At nightfall, the crew of >the Odyssey retired their vessel, MIKE: They gave it a dinner, a gold watch and a couple of wheelbarrows full of Enron stock. > which was nearly completely intact save >for some damage from the rear and some forward windows which had been >knocked out. CROW: I call no way! The Enterprise-D was Galaxy-class ship, and its saucer was trashed by crashing into a field! TOM: Yeah, but the Enterprise-E rammed a great big huge giant Reman warship with just paint scratches! MIKE: Say what you want about Starfleet - they're constantly improving their shock absorber technology. > I and my crew mates returned to the ship. CROW: And the townspeople returned to the piles of their houses and waited for dysentery, cholera, and typhoid to set in. > The next morning, a rider was spotted, heading towards town on the >old road from Vestra. He was proceeding at a rather fast pace, MIKE: Hey, fella, watch out for that gigantic wrecked... TOM: *whumpf* MIKE: ...starship. > and I was >surprised that he got as far as he did before he stopped his horse to gape >at the ruins. CROW: Hmph! Medieval rubbernecking! MIKE: Take a lithograph! It'll last longer! > The rider was wearing the insignia of the household of the >King, apparently returning with some urgent message. TOM: "Royal astronomers warn falling stars, evacuate Sappor soonest possible"... uh-oh. > After a moments >pause, he resumed his journey. CROW: [Messenger] Hm. The town's a smoking pit, and there's a giant Frisbee where the palace used to be. No problem! > It was around noon when the rider reached >the Grey Eagle Inn. CROW: Named for its owner, Sam the Eagle. > The rider demanded to speak to who was in charge, it was then that >the man in red and black made his presence known. CROW: It's Santa Cash! > He was a tall strong >man. MIKE: [Giles, dreamily] His arm muscles glistening with sweat. His strong, firm thighs outlined by his riding tights. [Starts giggling] > Strapped to his side was a saber, which glimmered as if it had never >been used. TOM: If Ratliff brings Mackenzie Calhoun into this, I will give him *such* a pinch! > "I guess that's me," the man said. MIKE: [Giles] I'm withholding his name to heighten the suspense of it all. > "I'm Captain Richard York >of the Odyssey. CROW: Intergalactic Studmuffin! > That's my ship that crashed into this town, and I guess >it's my job to clean up the mess. MIKE: [York] I guess. Why do I always get the hard work? First I have to load the dishwasher and now this! > It was then that Captain York learnt the extent of the problem. >King Ferrel was dead. ALL: Gasp! CROW: We'll never hear his Neil Diamond imitation again! > His whole family was dead. MIKE: All the royal pets: dead. CROW: Wormer - dead. Neidermeyer - dead. TOM: Heck, the whole world was dead! It's George Romero's King of the Dead! > To make matters worse, TOM: There was a fresh load of kittens in the castle that day. > the four Dukes of the Kingdom were all one >step from warring with each other. CROW: And that step would be actually declaring war. > In fact, the rider had just come from >Laville where the Duke of Castrome MIKE: The Duke was a bearded commie in a tinpot military uniform. TOM: Great - the whole thing's a botched CIA operation! > had forbidden any of the Duke of Astra's >retainers from entering his Dukedom under pain of death. TOM: Aw, but he spent ages polishing the upholstery! > Now it looked >like there would be civil war, because King Ferrel had always solved these >problems MIKE: Agh, what a bunch of wusses! TOM: Car broken down? Call King Ferrel! CROW: King Ferrel - the Mr. Fixit of the Kingdom. > and now he was gone, so it would be even worse than before. CROW: Yes, a civil war would definitely count as "worse than before". > Captain York had an unreadable expression during the rider's >explanations. MIKE: Mainly, it was boredom. > He then began asking questions. He asked about the Dukes. >He asked about other nobles. He asked about alliances. CROW: He asked about prime-time TV schedules. MIKE: He asked about our local cheeses. CROW: He asked why the sky was blue, and what was Vietnam, and about a tree falling in an empty forest, and... > Within an hour, >he had picked our brains clean of any knowledge we had about the situation. MIKE: [Giles] Basically, he left us a bunch of drooling morons. > Finally, asked for someone who could write for him, and dictated a >message. CROW: [York] "Dear mom, have crashed on feudal planet, will be taking over soonest, don't hold supper. Love, Ricky." > He asked all four dukes to come to Sappor in four days. He >signed it, the King, just that, nothing else. TOM: Immediately, hordes of crazed Elvis fans crowded into the city. > Then having four copies >made, he had the rider pick three new riders and sent them off. MIKE: It's an intergalactic chain letter. > The next four days where spent with the Crew of the Odyssey CROW: Where Crew? MIKE: There Crew. There pips. There wolf. TOM: *sigh* Sometimes, it's just too easy. >clearing up the remains of the town of Sappor. TOM: Great, they're obsessive-compulsive emergency medical technicians. > By the time the Dukes >arrived, CROW: [Waylon] ...Boss Hogg was hopping mad, cuz they'd stolen all his moonshine. > all the wooden rubble had been cleared and some of the stone. >They also had staked out the layout for what was to come the new city of >Odyssey. TOM: And the contractor had already told them they were over budget and behind schedule. > The four Dukes arrived with their usual large companies of >soldiers. Each came in the company of a dozen knights and three dozen men. MIKE: This is going to be an awkward doo-wop group. >They each had a squire and page for each knight, a couple personal >ministers, and a priest. TOM: Given all this, how many knights, men, squires, pages, ministers and priests did I meet on the way to St. Ives? > The Duke of Fasstime brought his pet cat. CROW: [Spicoli] Dude! That was my cat! I'm *so* wasted! >The Duke of Castrome was accompanied by his daughter. MIKE: Meadow Castrome. CROW: Next up, a Duke and a Dame! > The Duke of Avtra had >his speaking bird which spoke more than the Duke. CROW: And now, "Silent Cal" Avtra and his pretty birdie! > The Duke of Armedge >played his flute as his men marched to the cadence of his drummer. CROW: And finally, Duke Future Embarrassing Scandal! TOM: Let's give them all a big hand, they're here to bemuse us all until such time as they get out of the story! > They each were met by a man dressed in the King's livery, who lead >them to camps situated away from the town, where tents bearing their arms >were pitched. MIKE: And where they could be executed in a neat, orderly fashion. > The next day, they were summoned into the Odyssey. TOM: How did they get into a book? MIKE: They used Gumby technology. > I don't >know what was said in that meeting, only the Dukes do, CROW: [Waylon] They wouldn't even tell ol' Cooter down at the garage. > but I do know that >they left the Odyssey changed. TOM: [York] Screw the Prime Directive! Break out the mind sifter! > Since then not a single incident has >occurred between the dukes. CROW: [Waylon] Yessir, the ol' Duke boys are nice an' peaceable now. MIKE: I think we get it, Crow. CROW: Not yet you don't. It has to be made *clear*! > Upon the Dukes' return to their castles, they >proclaimed Captain York, King Richard I of Ellosia.. MIKE: [Giles] Now let me tell you about the first year of his reign... > Since then he has built up our navy, defended our shores from >attack, and ruled us well. > TOM: [Giles] And, uh, he hasn't been struck down by a bolt from the sky either, so that's another big bonus. > "Surely there is more to the story than that,"Captain Picard said. TOM: God, please, no! MIKE: I think Stevie's been taking narration lessons from Pete. >"You just don't lock yourself into a room and hope that an agreement will >come, TOM: Of course not. You lock the *other* guys in a room and wait for them to agree. > although I have heard of that technic working a time or two." CROW: Got a problem? Legos will solve it! MIKE: That's "Technix" Tom. TOM: Oh! Never mind. > The man in the ducal tunic raised his cup. "I was there when the >Dukes met our current King," he said. I was once known as Lord Byron, CROW: Oh, and have I mentioned that you walk in beauty like the night? >the late Duke Carlisle of Castrome's Chamberlain. MIKE: Try saying that four times fast with a spoon full of spinach. > For another round, I'll tell >you the sad tale of that meeting." CROW: [Byron] *Two* more rounds and I'll give you the happy version! MIKE: [Byron] *Three* more and I'll tell the story in the style of a 50's radio program! > "Barkeep, another round for Byron and my friends," Captain Picard >said, raising his cup to clink with Byron's, sealing the deal. > CROW: Six hours later. MIKE: [Loud and drunk] So there we were *HAW HAW*, tying the duke naked to a goat! > Duke Carlisle was a gaunt man in his mid fifties at the time of >our King's ascension to the throne. He was engaged in an ongoing feud with >Murdock, TOM: The Duke Who Knows No Fear. > who is still Duke of Avtra over Janna Bay and the town of Janna. CROW: A town designed to fit well with the Name Game song. TOM: So, he's Duke of a town and some water. MIKE: Yep. TOM: We're in Hell, aren't we? MIKE: Yep. >The Duke was tending to his estate at Castrome Cross when the royal >messenger reached him, requesting his immediate appearance at Sappor. MIKE: They have to get to Sappor before the food all cools off. > The >Duke was rather worried when he received the message. You see, he'd just >finished a little raiding on Fort Janna, which overlooked Janna Bay and was >manned by Murdock's men. TOM: Fort Janna, protecting Janna City on Janna Bay. *Somebody* was up all night thinking up the geography. > But the late King Ferrel was not one who you >disobeyed so blatantly. TOM: But apparently you could kill him with little or no repercussion. CROW: Laws are laws. > A little raiding on a fellow Duke was easily >ignored, CROW: [Waylon] Except that one time Uncle Jesse caught Luke going through Daisy's clothes closet! Boy howdy! > but when the King summoned you, you came. TOM: Looting and pillaging? Eh, that's small stuff! But you damn well better be punctual! > The Duke left the next morning with myself and his daughter, >Desiree, in the company of about forty men. MIKE: [Byron] Let's just say Desiree was... popular... and leave it at that. > His advisers had argued >against bringing Desiree, but the Duke loved his daughter and could not >deny her request to come with him to Sappor's famous baths. CROW: Ohhh ho ho! I smell a steamy bath scene coming up! > I had remained >silent, so I was the only advisor to go. TOM: Once again, brown-nosing practice pays off big-time. > The Duke had a low tolerance for >disagreement when it came to requests from his daughter. CROW: Being a spineless wimp and all. MIKE: [Byron] Of course, in his defense, Desiree had a killer Kobayashi Maru time. > It was early on the second day when Sappor came into view. We were >all shocked. TOM: [Byron] None of us had expected "Spin City" to be canceled, and we forgot to tape the season finale. > The town was smashed beneath a large upside down ivory >colored saucer. CROW: Yeah. We covered this part. Get on with it! > As we stood there and took in the view in the early >morning, the Captain of the Duke's guard pulled out his scope. MIKE: Just because it's the end of the world is no excuse for bad breath. > He handed >the scope to the Duke, pointing to the center of the saucer. The Ellosian >Royal Standard was flying from a pole on the highest point of the saucer. TOM: It may look bad, but at least Fort McHenry's held. > Duke Carlisle took it all in stride. "I see the King has changed >his castle," he said. "Some deal with some magician I'd imagine. Well, we >haven't all day. Onward!" CROW: They're sure hard to impress, aren't they? MIKE: [Duke] The sun's turned blood red, you say? Just swamp gas. Now keep moving! > When we arrived at the edge of the town, we were taken to newly >prepared camps in the fields. MIKE: [Duke] Canst thou send me the Mayor? TOM: [Peasant] Yes, milord, we'll slip him under your door. > It wasn't until all of the Dukes had arrived >that we were finally summoned in to the Odyssey. CROW: Please stay in single file. Don't wander away from the tour guide. Souvenirs are available in Ten-Forward. Keep moving, please. > Duke Carlisle did ask >several times why, but the only reply was that "that's what the Captain >said." This worried the Duke greatly. > MIKE: He was late for a meeting with his dealer! > When we were called, the Duke was only allowed two advisors and two >guards. CROW: Or he could choose three advisors and one guard; or three guards and one advisor; or one guard, one advisor, and two chickens. > For Castrome our party consisted of the Duke, myself, little >Desiree, and two knights, Sir Percy TOM: Famed for his touching ballad, "When a Knight Loves a Woman". > and Sir Oswald. MIKE: Who was later slain by Sir Jack of Ruby. > We were taken into the >Odyssey by what appeared to have been large windows. We were taken into a >small room which then opened up onto an entirely different set of >corridors. CROW: It's a maze of twisty passages, all alike. > Our destination was a large room with five tables. Each of >them had the arms of one of the Dukedoms, MIKE: Meanwhile, the armless Dukes lay bleeding to death. > save for the fifth, which was on >a platform and bore no marking. But a sturdy chair, much more impressive >looking than the simple ones at the other tables was at the middle. TOM: They Came From Planet Ikea! > One by one, the other dukes joined us in the chamber, taking their >seats at their adorned tables, with an advisor at each side, and their >guards standing behind them. MIKE: [Picard] You do realize that stretching out this story won't get you more beer, right? CROW: [Byron] Oh, poopie! > The Dukes all engaged in hostile staring >contests. MIKE: Then a bear and a woman holding a sign reading "Andy's Mom" appeared behind one of them and started making out. > The Duke of Fasstime petted his cat. TOM: He'd auditioned for the role of a Bond Villain, but couldn't make the final cut, poor sap. > Duke Murdock's pet bird >began repeating various hostile comments about his rivals. CROW: RRawk! Frank Burns Eats Worms! > Desiree began bugging her father for a bird and a cat. MIKE: [Little kid] And a bunny and a hamster and a ferret and a dinosaur and a pony and a hippo and a unicorn and a fairy and an elephant. > It was into this hostile atmosphere that Captain Richard York >walked into the room. He was accompanied by his wife, TOM: Elizabeth Montgomery. > who would become the >lovely Queen Claire, and a burly man named Harlan. MIKE: Yeah, ask him when he's putting "Last Dangerous Visions" up on the Internet. See if he'll eat you. > They took the seats at >the head table, as men in yellow and black uniforms took up posts at the >doors and beside the head table. CROW: This is the first "Camelot" fan fiction we've read, right? > "It appears that this is going to be tougher than I thought," >Richard mumbled before raising his voice to address the Dukes. TOM: [John Wayne] Well, hel-lo there, pil-grims! > "Good >Afternoon, your graces. I know who you are, CROW: [Dr. Forrester] And I saw what you did! MIKE: You used to be able to do that voice so much better, Crow. > and I believe you know >everyone but, me, TOM: The punctuation in, this sentence, is kind of, awkward. > so I better introduce myself and tell you why I'm here. MIKE: And why I'm wearing this dress. >I'm Captain Richard York of the Starship Odyssey. TOM: [York] Now, have any of you ever heard of a thing called "Amway"? > The structure you are >now in is what remains of my ship. I was on patrol of this sector of >space, guarding it from Cardassians when a Cardassian Warship attacked my >ship. CROW: If you listen closely, you can hear this going way over their heads. TOM: What happened to telling myths of the island "Earth" from far across the sea? > The Odyssey and her crew managed to destroy the warship, but the >ship was damaged beyond repair, CROW: [Random Duke] But isn't everything still working? You've got power and everything! MIKE: [York] DO NOT QUESTION ME! NEVER QUESTION ME!!! TOM: [Byron] It was then that he earned the name, King Richard the Hair-Triggered. > and we were forced to make a barely >controlled landing on this planet. TOM: Barely controlled? They picked out the one stinking town in a hundred mile radius! > In the process, we crushed the town of >Sappor and killed many people, including, according to what I've been told, >the entire royal family. CROW: [York] Sorry 'bout that. Now, who's for some lunch? > As my ship caused the problem, I feel it is my >responsibility to see that nothing suffers because of it. TOM: [York] And when I say "nothing", I'm not counting the hundreds of natives horribly mangled beneath this metallic leviathan. > I've spent the >last five days speaking to various surviving members of the late King >Ferrel's court, and have come to the conclusion that MIKE: [York] Ferrel really *is* a ridiculous name. > none of you would >support another one of your fellow dukes as King, and that there is no >clear candidate to become King. CROW: [York] Apparently, Lord Bush and Lord Gore are deadlocked, and the Duchy of Palm Beach is rioting. > Is that a good assessment, your graces?" MIKE: Oh, I hate taking class evaluations. If I say something bad about the instructor, I feel guilty. But if I make them sound too good, I'm afraid it won't look realistic. > It took a while for the Dukes to digest this new information. TOM: [duke] What the hell's a Cardassian? >Each of them began looking at their counterparts with suspicious glares. CROW: So, he's *completely* insane then? > As that confirmed his opinion, the Captain continued. "In >addition, no one can become king without your support. TOM: Them and the parliament or diet or witenagemot, sure. MIKE: The *what*? TOM: England, before William the Conqueror. Look it up. MIKE: Get away from me. > I'd like to have it." TOM: [York] Seeing as you backward hicks couldn't even *hope* to govern yourselves properly. > That caused the room to break up in sputtering "What? No way! CROW: Way! TOM: No way! CROW: Way! MIKE: Baron Garth and Duke Wayne, ladies and gentlemen. >Who do you thing you are?" TOM: [Morticia] Thank you, Thing. > The Captain let that go on for a minute or so >before calling the room back to order. > "Your Graces!" he ordered. "Sit down, and shut up!" MIKE: Smartest thing anyone's said in the entire fanfic. > Somehow that >settled them down. CROW: Yes, most royalty reacts positively to being treated like 4-year olds. MIKE: Though all the guards leveling their pulsed phaser rifles at them may have helped a bit. > "That's better. Now I realize that this is not what >you expected when you were called here. MIKE: [York] Heck, that's not even what *I* expected when I called you here. > I'm sure every one of you, down to >the last guard and with the possible exception of the young girl chasing >the cat, want to be King." CROW: Yes, even the cat has an evil plan to take over the kingdom. Of course, that's not really unusual for cats... > During the uproar, the cat had left the Duke of Fasstime's table >and was now being chased by the young girl on the far end of the room. MIKE: Oh really? I couldn't gather that from the previous sentence. Thanks for clearing that up for us. TOM: Hey, look, it's a metaphor for the search for power! >Her father called her back, and she returned to the seat, with the cat, CROW: Yeah, and there are the constitutional limits on that power... >who had been captured just short of pouncing on the bird. MIKE: Just short of the prize! It'd be a brilliant foreshadowing of where we know this story is going if we weren't sure it was just padding. > "I think you'll find that my administration would be a lot easier >than you taking the job. TOM: [York] I just thought I'd emphasize some more what a slovenly, backward country this is. > I'm sure that there are days when you wish you >never had become a Duke. MIKE: Like "Dunk the Duke Fridays" down at the bar. > Well, I've been told by several Kings that a >King's job is much, much worse." TOM: It's a great argument - if you're trying to scare Kelly Bundy out of the job. > "Duke Murdock of Avtra, I understand you are unwed. CROW: [York] So, are you, like, busy Friday night and stuff? > If you took the >throne you would be pressured into a marriage for political purposes. TOM: He'd have to marry Jenna Bush? >Duke Carlisle, your daughter would suffer the same, MIKE: Then she'd be forced to join the Go-Go's. > never being able to marry >for love. CROW: This guy is completely unaware of the concept of mistresses, isn't he? TOM: And he says he knows royal politics... > Duke Lionel of Fasstime, I understand you had some trouble >maintaining the Fasstime-Arm Road through Hammer Pass. CROW: [sputtering] Arm? Hammer? TOM: [Stephen] Let's see, what shall I name my fictional creations? I think an inspirational trip to Krogers is called for here. > If you were King, >that wouldn't be the only road you had to worry about. MIKE: [York] You'd be in charge of all those old Hope & Crosby movies too. > Duke Nolan of >Armedge, I understand that shortly after you became duke, you had to clear >out the corrupt administration of the port of Arm. TOM: Did you ever find the Earl of Hoffa, by the way? > As King you would have >to oversee over eight major ports. CROW: And you clearly don't want somebody with experience and zeal for that sort of work doing it. > My Lord Dukes, I haven't even got to >taxes, mediation, and ceremony. CROW: [Duke] Boy, being King is sure hard work! MIKE: [Duke] Yeah, if only there were someone who'd do it for us. > I find it hard to believe that any of you >want this job. TOM: [York] Just how dumb ARE you guys? > I am willing to take it on because I feel it's my duty >because I caused the mess. Now, what say you?" CROW: [Duke Lionel] I say you're a filthy, murdering usurper. And I'm not going to... MIKE: [York] SILENCE! CROW: Yessir... > Duke Murdock was first to speak. "After listening to your words, I >do not want the job. CROW: [Murdock] Being a king and stuff sucks! I wanna play in my band! > I would not support any of my fellow dukes, >so I believe I must pledge my loyalty to you, my King." TOM: [Murdock] Your flawed, logic-less arguments have swayed my opinion. > At the end of his statement, the colorful bird on his shoulder >announced, "Long Live the King!" MIKE: Then it pooped on the guy's shoulder. > Duke Nolan was next, standing at his table. TOM: Could we have some bread, *please*? And a menu finally? > "I do not want the >job. CROW: Although I do want the power and prestige that comes with it. > I spent three years rebuilding the port of Arm after corruption and >raids from pirates nearly destroyed it. TOM: You'd think he could at least have hired some tradesmen to help. > I do not even want to think about >what it would take to restore Sappor." MIKE: Geez, maybe York's right - these guys sure aren't king material. > Duke Lionel stood next. "I've been duke for ten years. During that >time I've seen much infighting among my fellow dukes and attempted to end >it among my vassals. CROW: [Lionel] Which is why I had their sword arms all hacked off. Results are mixed. > I do not wish to see this fighting increase unto >civil war. TOM: [Lionel] Because if you think I'm hanging a Confederate flag in *my* castle, you got another thing coming! > I do not know you, Captain York, MIKE: But there is nothing I wouldn't do for your Peppermint Patties. > but I know my fellow noblemen >too well. I will consent to your Kingship, because I do not believe anyone >I know can do it." CROW: Turns out alien planets are *easy* to conquer. > Duke Carlisle was last to rise. "You have shown us that you are a >take charge fellow, filled with duty. TOM: That's a line designed to make our inner nine-year-olds titter. > That is good. You've commanded this >ship in space battles, you tell us. MIKE: [Carlisle] So obviously you're some kind of outer demon or something! > Your technology appears much greater >than ours, yet you still ask us for your support when you could no doubt >take us against our will. CROW: Or maybe his injured, battle-wearied Starfleet officers are vastly outnumbered by your standing armies. Dink. > That is good. You are in short, just what we >need. I will not stand in your way." MIKE: Here's a man who knows which butt to kiss and when. > It was with the tentative support of the Four Dukes that King >Richard began his reign. > TOM: How to become king: Step 1 - Kill the current king and all his relatives. CROW: Step 2 - Convince all the nobles that they don't want the job. MIKE: Step 3 - Inform the nobles that you *do* want the job. TOM: Step 4 - Since you want the job and all the other nobles don't, therefore you become king. > "Now, Captain, we've told our tale, perhaps you can regale us with >a tale or two about your adventures on your ship," Byron said, MIKE: [Picard] Well, for that, just tune in to TNN every weeknight at 8:00 PM, 7:00 PM Central. > emptying his >glass again. "Barkeep, another ale!" CROW: So, is this a Captain's Table story now? > "I believe I have a tale," Captain Picard said. "It is about my >third mate, truly an unusual officer." TOM: [Picard] He's a Jell-O based being from the tenth dimension and he only talks in ferret noises. MIKE: [Byron] That's at most eccentric. > "There is no such thing as an unusual seaman," Giles replied. MIKE: *Ahem!* TOM: *mmmmmmmmmwah!* Goodnight, everybody! > "I disagree," Captain Picard replied. "But I ask that you reserve >judgement until after I tell you how I acquired my second mate." > MIKE: Picard has a trophy wife? CROW: He dumped Beverly for a 22-year old aerobics instructor named Mandi from Spandex III. > It was three years ago when I was sailing the Northern Seas, when >my Third Mate at the time, came to me with a request. TOM: [Picard] But what *good* would a shipboard version of "Plinko" do? > It seemed that he >had a wife in the port we were at that had just died, CROW: He was the kinda guy that had a dead wife in every port. > leaving a twelve year >old child behind. He wondered if I might allow that child to serve as my >cabin boy. TOM: Instead of doing something stupid, like going ashore and raising the kid himself instead of endangering him on the open sea. > I had no objections, having lacked one for some time. CROW: He shoulda just joined the Chris Elliot fan club. > The next morning, he brought the child aboard. The child appeared >quite scruffy, with blond hair that appeared to have been cut off with a >knife. MIKE: Hair by Mr. Scissorhands. > However the outfit was clean, brand new looking in fact. So I put >the child to work. CROW: [Picard] I ran a sweatshop in the lower decks! > We had been out to sea for three weeks on a two month trip, when >the pirates attacked. TOM: It began with their detaching the saucer section of the sailing ship and traveling at warp speed around the whirlpool to - oh, forget it. > We had been too predicable with our regular spice >trip. MIKE: [Picard] They shall come all - for violence! > We fought them off and sunk their ship with a broadside of four of >our ten cannons, but their attack had been with a heavy price. TOM: $10,345.95 > Seven men >were dead, including my third mate. MIKE: [Picard] Also dead were my third chum, fourth pal, and fifth buddy. > The child took it hard, but I gave the child no chance to drown in >grief. CROW: Yeah, yeah, daddy's dead, boohoohoo. Now go get me a flagon of grog, Earl Grey, hot! > We needed every hand. I put the child to work, mending sails, >repairing damage, and so forth. MIKE: Ironing my shirts... CROW: Reading me bedtime stories... TOM: Fluffing my pillow... > There wasn't a job on the ship that the >child hadn't learnt by the time we hit port. Unfortunately, I lost another >five men who deserted in that port, so we were even more shorthanded on the >return journey. MIKE: [Picard] Then everyone died, including me. Boy, that was rough. > During the return, the child became a fixture at my side. TOM: [Picard] Later, I remodeled and had a wet bar put in instead. > Anything >I needed, the child provided. CROW: You'd think that'd work the other way around. > I, in turn, provided the child with >knowledge. TOM: The Young Radar O'Reilly Hornblower Chronicles. > I taught the child how to sail, how to sword fight, and how to >read and write. MIKE: [kid] But I've already read "A Christmas Carol"! 35 times this week! > But the child harbored a secret, one that I did not learn until a >year later.By then the child was acting as the junior most of my >officers, taking the second dog watch, TOM: But who was watching the first dog? MIKE: There are some things man was never meant to know. > and I had a new cabin boy. MIKE: [Picard] The boy having grown large enough to fight me off. > We were traveling though the same sea on nearly the same voyage as >the one in which I had lost my Third Mate, the child's father. MIKE: You'd think he'd at least know "the child's" name by now. > I had set a >watch, but thick fog was impeding our progress. It was the fog that >allowed the pirates to get close enough to board us. CROW: Sure. *Always* blame it on pirates. > But my sword fighting >practice served us well, and we fought off the pirates, MIKE: Thus clinching the NL Wild Card spot. > the child making >several impressive kills. CROW: [Picard] Though killing that last guy with a 90-hit Ultra *was* a bit much... > However, the pirates did not leave the child >unharmed, for they made several glancing cuts on the child. TOM: Hi, Stephen? I'm a pronoun. Have we met? > At the end of the battle, the pirates had lost, but the child's >clothes were barely hanging on her body. MIKE: Wait a sec... this is the result of several 'glancing' cuts? What is she wearing, taffeta? > It was apparent that I hadn't had >a cabin boy, but a cabin girl. CROW: [Picard] Suddenly, images of "Boys Don't Cry" floated through my brain! TOM: Geez, Sherlock, what was your first clue - the high-pitched voice or the bumps on her chest? > The girl was worried that I would throw her off the ship, now that >I knew, for it is well known that ship captains prefer not to have women >among their crews. I admit that the thought crossed my mind, but the girl >had proved her merit. TOM: Plus, she looked pretty good in tattered clothing! > I certainly wasn't going to let her go in the middle >of the sea, CROW: But if you let her go and she comes back to you, she's yours forever. > and I had promised her father that I would take care of her, >although if I ever meet her father, somewhere beyond the grave, we're going >to have a long talk. TOM: So Captain Picard's view of the afterlife is interminable conferences. MIKE: That's his view of life anyway. > It was then that the death of my Fourth Mate at the >time was discovered. CROW: Fortunately, by subtracting his Fifth Mate from his Ninth Mate, he was able to make do. > I told the girl to go get dressed and began asking >the rest of the officers who they thought could best fill the position. MIKE: They named Frank Lautenberg. >It was to my great surprise that the girl was their choice. TOM: [Picard] Only Botswain Manitoba objected, so we pitched him overboard. MIKE: Calgary. TOM: Whatever. > The door of the bar opened, and banged shut behind the person who >entered. ALL: NORM!!! > The person was dressed in the same style of ship's uniform that >Captain Picard wore, though less adorned. TOM: Withholding her name isn't going to leave us any doubt who she is. > Her hair was shoulder length, >and blond. She, taking her beret like hat off, approached Picard's table >and said, "Excuse me, Captain, but Commander Riker's compliments. CROW: ...are fawning and insincere and he wants your job so bad he can taste it. >He wishes to inform you that we've obtained passengers for Odyssey, and >are ready to embark on the evening tide." TOM: Huh? CROW: Translation: We're all aboard and ready to take off. > "Very well, Marrissa," Captain Picard said. "I will be along as >soon as I settle up my tab. MIKE: Sadly, Picard soon discovered all they had was Diet Rite. > Please wait for me outside." > "Aye sir." The young girl left as Picard moved over to the bar to >pay the barkeeper. > "That's a nice young girl, you've got there," the barkeep >commented. ALL: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! > "That will be 5 silver." > "She's a fine officer," Captain Picard said, handing over the >silver pieces before departing the bar. TOM: His career as a lawyer was at an end. >-- >Stephen Ratliff ASC FAQ Maintainer >http://www.crosswinds.net/~stephenratliff/FAQs > CROW: So we've learned that if you're a Starship captain, you can drop your ship on a primitive city, pretty much wipe out their entire royal family, denigrate and bully the local nobles, and in return, they'll gratefully make you king. Right? TOM: Well, it worked for Nixon. >From stephenratliff@crosswinds.net Tue Dec 18 18:53:20 2001 >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 3/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories) MIKE: Uh... Two things Stephen Ratliff should never write about. >From: Stephen Ratliff >Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2001 00:53:20 GMT > >Title: Royal and Prime Directives >Author: Stephen Ratliff >Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories >Part: NEW 3/16 Serialized Weekly CROW: Must be one of those 45-day metric weeks. >Rating: [PG] >Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain >who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation > >Chapter Two: Sailing Away > CROW: No! TOM: What? What's wrong with o/` Sailing away? o/` [Crow shudders for a moment before...] CROW: Ahhhhh! o/` Setanopencoursetothevirginsea o/` MIKE: You'd think he'd learn. TOM: Apparently not. > The ship's boat was waiting for Captain and Lieutenant Picard. TOM: I see the ship's boat has acquired sentience. CROW: But not intelligence. >They boarded, and the men began to pull for the Stargazer. MIKE: Go for it, Stargazer! TOM: Yeah, you can do it, buddy! > The sea was >choppy, and the golden sunset was obscured by heavy grey clouds. CROW: So nobody could see it. But trust us, it was golden. > Marrissa >took the tiller, and steered the boat towards the three masted ship. MIKE: [Marrissa] Excellent. Mr. Ottawa, open fire! CROW: It's Calgary. MIKE: [Marrissa] Whatever! > The >Stargazer showed some wear, but was freshly painted, having just been >beamed down from a specially designed cargo carrier that the Enterprise had >towed. MIKE: So Picard drags this specially designed cargo carrier around that can hold and repair seafaring ships just on the off chance he might want to go for a short sail? CROW: Someone's getting eccentric in his old age. > The smell of the sea air was a tonic to the Captain. MIKE: Specifically, a *gin* and tonic. TOM: [Marrissa] C'mon, dad, sober up a little, willya? > It renewed >his sense of adventure, propelled him beyond duty, and made him wish for >simpler times. CROW: Then he remembered he'd done this a thousand times on the holodeck, and broke down into tears. > Ah, to sail on the power of the air on your sails, to >follow the sea's current on the sound of the breaking waves. TOM: To fight scurvy and rickets. MIKE: To smell like rotting fish all day. CROW: To be trapped on a boat with 40 unwashed sailors for weeks and weeks. TOM: To not see a woman for months at a time. MIKE: To hit a patch of sharp rock and die a watery death. CROW: To die halfway around the world at the hands of yo-yo wielding cannibals. > To Marrissa, this was a new challenge. CROW: But for Marrissa there would be another day. > Challenges were not >something that Marrissa backed down from. MIKE: Marrissa likes to view them not as challenges, but opportunities. > She was, in a way, like a >character in one of her anime, Ranma Saotome. TOM: If you throw hot water on her, she turns into a guy? MIKE: It would explain why Picard couldn't recognize her gender during his flashback. > A challenge was a call to >battle, and she wouldn't quit until she won. CROW: No matter who she had to kill. > They pulled along side. "Oars up!" Marrissa ordered. The ship's >boat team had spent several hours on the holodeck learning how to do this. TOM: Tha hell? They had to *learn* how to take the oars out of the water?! MIKE: These guys weren't exactly head of their academy class. >"Mr. James, take the tiller." TOM: ...Please! > First Marrissa, then the Captain, MIKE: What next? Penguins? > climbed on >board. As the Captain climbed up, the bosun's whistle rang in a three tone >greeting. [Tom imitates the NBC chime] MIKE: [plugging nose] Now hear this, now hear this, prepare for arrival of scientist from Earth. > "Welcome back aboard, Captain," Commander Riker said. > "Ship's status, number one?" Picard asked. MIKE: [Riker] Ten seconds away from sinking, sir! TOM: [Picard] Up from three. Excellent! > "We're fully stocked CROW: With booze. > and ready to depart," Riker said. "The >Duchess and her party are aboard and in the passenger quarters. CROW: [Riker] I took "special" care of the Duchess, if you know what I mean... TOM: [Picard, exasperated] Yes, Number One, congratulations on nailing one of the locals. Again. > The >evening tide begins in a quarter hour." MIKE: [Riker] Shuffleboard is available up on deck, and we have some excellent live shows this evening at five, seven, and nine. > "Very well, Number One," Picard said. "We will sail into the >setting sun. TOM: [Riker] Won't that make us catch on fire and burn up? CROW: [Picard] That's why we're going to sail mostly at night. > Raise anchor and prepare for departure." > TOM: INTENSE DEPARTING ACTION! > Marrissa stood on the quarter deck, to the right of the helm. It >was the last dog watch, CROW: [sobbing] No! Old Yeller! > and she was in command. TOM: [Little phaser noises] Tzoo! Tzoo tzoo tzoo! Tzoo tzooooo! > The sun was just coming >up, and the Stargazer had picked up a fresh westerly breeze. CROW: Say, what ever happened to Westerly Crusher? TOM: He was at Riker and Deanna's wedding, but most of his scenes wound up on the cutting room floor. > She looked down at the main deck. A young girl had just come up >out of the hold. MIKE: [Marrissa] Oooh! Royalty! 500 point shot! > It appeared to be the Lady Hayley, who was the Duchess's >daughter. TOM: It's Hayley Mills and Hayley Mills, in "The Marrissa Trap". > Marrissa had met the girl briefly at dinner the previous night. MIKE: [Marrissa] Hi, I'm Marrissa. CROW: [Hayley] Hi. >The young blonde girl was Marrissa's age and seemed to be quite curious. MIKE: Fortunately, she had a man with a yellow hat to watch her at all times. >Lady Hayley had spent most of dinner questioning La Forge about the ship. CROW: [Hayley] What's that thingy that makes the sails go poof? TOM: [Geordi] That's called "the wind", dear... > The girl climbed up the starboard ladder to the quarterdeck. "I >hope you don't mind me coming up here," the girl said. TOM: In response, Marrissa snapped her neck and dumped the body overboard. > "I just want to see >the sun rise. CROW: [Marrissa] Enjoy it. I gotta go or I'll turn to dust and ashes. > "I don't mind," Marrissa said. "Other officers of the watch may, >though." ALL: [Officers] We don't mind. > "Officers of the watch?" Lady Hayley asked. MIKE: [Marrissa] Some lame-o cult Riker formed that worships Timex. They're really touchy. > "The person left in command of the ship for a certain length of >time," Marrissa said. "It's usually TOM: [Marrissa] Me, Clara, or one of the other Powerpuff Kids Crew. > the top five officers, excluding the >Captain." > "Why not the Captain?" Hayley asked. CROW: [Marrissa] He's just a figurehead for our bourgeois overlords. > "He's in command all the time," Marrissa said. "An officer of the >watch only commands the ship when he's not here. MIKE: So only people who aren't there are in charge? > Some people call the >position the duty officer." CROW: And some people call it the gangster of love. > "Who are those officers?" Hayley asked. TOM: And you can make sure it's a very long and detailed list? > "Well, our first mate, Commander Riker commands the first watch," >Marrissa said. CROW: Hawkeye and Trapper John take the other two. They may be trouble, but they're the best darned doctors in the whole Korean theater. > "He's that bearded guy who made that colorful toast last >night at dinner." MIKE: [Hayley] The one with all the drunken laughter and hand gestures? > "Your captain looked like he was going throw something at the >Commander," Hayley said. CROW: [Marrissa] Yeah, well, Riker inspires that. > "Quite possibly," Marrissa said. TOM: [Marrissa] They're thoroughly hate-filled, you know. > "Our second mate, Lieutenant La >Forge commands the second watch. He answered your questions last night at >dinner. MIKE: [Marrissa] He asked me to tell you not to talk to him again. Ever. > He came up though the ship's carpentry CROW: Left a huge hole in the floor. > and still does some work on >the side. TOM: Port side only, though - he's a specialist now. > I'm third mate, and I command the last of the dog watches." CROW: [Marrissa] You know. In case we're attacked by dogs. On the ocean. Oh, hell. I'm just making this stuff up as I go along. > "Dog watches?" Hayley asked. MIKE: Yeah, you know, like Satchel wears in "Get Fuzzy". > "The three watches between dusk and dawn," TOM: Starring George Clooney. > Marrissa said. "They're >also called ticks. ALL: SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!! > The first two both last four hours, but the last one >can last longer, depending on the time of year, giving it the name 'the >long tick.'" CROW: [Tick] Look, Arthur! I'm all stretchy and bendy! It's keen! > "You know a lot," Hayley said, leaning against the rail. MIKE: Yep, I can just picture it - Haley standing there. Vacant stare on her face. Idly twirling a curl around her finger... TOM: I can almost hear the bubble gum popping. > "Dad insists that I study a lot," Marrissa said. CROW: [Marrissa] He says it keeps me out of his hair. [normal] Ha! See? Cuz Picard told her about the hair, y'see, and - he's - y'know, all bald. TOM: We got it, Crow. CROW: It's funny, see? MIKE: [pats Crow on head] Of course it is. > "Especially when >we have to go off ship. Be careful with that rail, it's a little lose" TOM: Tom Stewart killed me! Tom Stewart killed me! > "Why then?" Hayley asked, moving back from the rail. TOM: Then promptly falling off the other side. MIKE: [Hayley] Oopsieeeeeeeee.... > "It helps prevent you from making mistakes," Marrissa said. CROW: [Marrissa] Like messing with me! Bwahahahahahahahahahaha! > "Not >all places have the same rules as Ellosia. MIKE: [Marrissa] I mean, there are some places that don't even allow a Starfleet captain to murder the local king and take over! CROW: [Hayley] How horrible! > If you don't know the rules, >it's a lot harder to avoid breaking them." MIKE: Like not allowing children onto the bridge of a starship? CROW: Or giving children command of a starship in times of war? TOM: Or altering history for your own selfish whims? MIKE: Actually, Janeway broke that altering history rule. CROW: So did Kirk. TOM: That was different. Kirk did it to save earth from mortal danger. Janeway was just irritated that she didn't get a parade. > "Oh," Hayley said. "You have nice sunrises at sea." TOM: Quite an attention span on that one. MIKE: [Hayley] My hair smells nice. > "Sometimes," Marrissa said. "You can see a lot at sea, with >nothing to block your view. CROW: Namely, water. Lots and lots and lots of water. > Even more when you're at the top of the >masts." MIKE: [Marrissa] And more still when you blast the shoreline flat! > "You climb all the way up there?" Hayley said, craning her head to >look up to the top. CROW: [Hayley] It must be six feet up! > "Sometimes," Marrissa said. "The Captain doesn't like it when I do >though. Calls it a foolish stunt." TOM: Puts it on NBC. Leaves us all feeling degraded. > "It is, but the view is amazing," Commander Riker said. Marrissa >turned to find him standing behind her. MIKE: Yeah, yeah. And the love that you've found ever since she's been around puts you at the top of the mast. Move along already. > "Good Morning, Commander," Marrissa said. "I believe you know Lady >Hayley, she got up to see the sunrise this morning." CROW: That's why I've been talking her ear off instead of letting her look. > "Good Morning, Lady Hayley," Riker said, dipping in a slight bow. TOM: [Riker] Hi, ladies. I know I've been out of the story for a while. Don't worry, you'll be able to enjoy me the rest of this scene. >"Lieutenant Picard, anything to report." TOM: [Marrissa] Well, I've discovered the Romulans are preparing to invade... CROW: [Riker] Good, good. Say Hayley, you ever seen the sunrise from Inspiration Point? > "Wind is out of the south-east, and our speed is at 12 knots," MIKE: Barometric Pressure is 30.12 inches and rising, and local humidity is about 105%. Let's go to Doppler and see what's heading this way. >Marrissa said. "I adjusted course five points to port a half an hour ago. >Based on current speed, we should arrive at Sapphire Bay late this >afternoon, if the wind holds." TOM: If it doesn't hold, we'll get there day before yesterday. I can't explain it. > "Very well, Lieutenant, you are relieved," Riker said, MIKE: [Marrissa, muttering] I will be once *you* leave, ya big jerk! > turning to >stand by the wheel. TOM: o/` Stand by your whee-e-e-el... o/` > "Yes sir," Marrissa said. "If you'd follow me, Lady Hayley, >perhaps we can get an early breakfast from the cook." > MIKE: [Marrissa] It's flapstick day! BOTS: WOO-HOO!! > Beverly Picard adjusted her robe as she entered the Inn. MIKE: Are you sure it's wise to visit an Inn in your bathrobe? >It had been a long ride from Arlipor MIKE: Isn't it "Alripor"? CROW: I think you're right. TOM: Which is worse: That Stephen misspelled the name of a place he invented, or that we've been paying enough attention to notice? > to the town of Castrome Cross. Though the >robes of the Healing Sisterhood of the Order of Saint Cecilia were made >thin for the tropical weather of Ellosia, TOM: Woops! A little *too* thin - especially when she's got the sun behind her like that, heh heh heh. > they were somewhat unmanageable >compared to the uniform of a Star Fleet Doctor. CROW: But still better than the lime green muumuu the elder sisters wanted her to wear. > At her side was Clara, MIKE: The quiet Beatle. > who >was dressed in the common attire of the daughter of a wealthy landowner. TOM: Tommy Hilfiger and BUFU. CROW: [Beverly] Stupid Kids' Crew punks, get all the good clothes... > "Welcome to the Inn of the Flying Dragon, revered sister," the >Innkeeper said. "How may I be of assistance?" TOM: [Beverly] Uh, yeah... hi. Is there a Marriot around here somewhere? > "My charge and I require a simple room for a night's stay MIKE: They're not up to handling the complicated rooms. CROW: They'll be stumped if they get a room with a door that doesn't open just by walking at it. > and would >inquire about possible companions for our journey to Odyssey," Beverly >said. TOM: [Inkeeper] You want the "Raging Stallion" next door for "companions". CROW: [Beverly] That's not what I meant. But thanks for the tip! > "We have a room available for just a silver," the Innkeeper said. MIKE: [Beverly] I... can give you three toothpicks and a Monopoly piece. > "That will be fine," Beverly said. > "I believe the minstrel in the corner is on his way to Odyssey, >perhaps he will be able to accompany you." CROW: Oh... my... God! TOM: Nonononono, not a minstrel! MIKE: Wait, guys, maybe he won't sing! TOM: C'mon, Mike, introducing a minstrel who doesn't sing is like having a Starfleet redshirt who lives! > Over in the corner was a minstrel, dressed in worn traveling >clothes that were rather well tailored for such a roving harpist. TOM: [Beverly] Umm... Could you point out someone less useless and effeminate? CROW: A *harp*?!? A freakin' *harp*?!? Geez, why not just lug around a Steinway or something? MIKE: He's from the Island of Misfit Harpo Marxes! > He was >signing a popular air, MIKE: Wouldn't it be easier just to close-caption him? > as those in the common room gathered around him. > CROW: Clubs and tire-irons in hand... > "Once there was a king from heavens above > A royal beyond measure was he. MIKE: o/` He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum... o/` > The Lord above sent him to rule our fair country > TOM: Oh come on, that didn't even rhyme. > "Once there was a Duchess, Desired was she > Her beauty was the call of the whole country CROW: o/` In that thong, th-thong-thong-thong! o/` > It's a shame that little brother captured Desiree. > TOM: Okay, I am officially confused. MIKE: I just don't think you can do a blank verse sonnet is all. > As the minstrel shifted into a instrumental piece, MIKE: PLAY "WHIPPING POST"!! TOM: FREEBIRD! CROW: [Bad southern accent] EAT A PEACH! WOOOO!!! > Beverly >approached. TOM: [Beverly] Here's $50 if you promise not to sing until we're gone! > "Pardon me, sir minstrel, but the Innkeeper tells me that >you're heading towards Odyssey on the morn." CROW: He's riding the guy from Deep Space Nine? > "Why, yes, I'm heading to see my younger brother and his wife," the >minstrel said. MIKE: [Minstrel] Though not necessarily in that order, if you know what I mean... > "I'm Sister Beverly, and this is my charge Clarrissa. [All start to speak at once, then stop] MIKE: Were we all about to do a "Clarissa Explains It All" riff? TOM: Um, yeah, I was. CROW: Me too. MIKE: Right. Let's just retire that one and move on with our lives. ALL: Agreed. > We're also >going that way, and wondered if we might accompany you." CROW: [Minstrel] Well I *have* been needing a drummer and a bass player... > "Certainly, honored sister. My name is Cedric. TOM: [Cedric] I'll be meeting up with Bernie Mac and Steve Harvey later, if that's okay. > If you'll be kind >enough to meet me after breakfast is served?" MIKE: [Cedric] And bring plenty of cash - I can eat lotsa pancakes! > Beverly nodded. "Then it's >settled." Then he took up another song. "Here's a little song I used to >play in my youth." > CROW: [solemn, minstrel-y,] Right about now, the funk soul brother... > "The minstrel boy off to war has gone MIKE: But he'll return your call as soon as he can. Please leave your name, number and insipid lyrics after the beep. > In the ranks of death you will find him TOM: Oh, right, this is the second verse to the "Cheers" theme. > His father's sword he hath girdith on, ALL: [Monotone] And in the darkness bind him. > His wild harp slung behind him > TOM: Somehow, I just don't see the words "wild" and "harp" as being compatible. CROW: Actually, free range harps are tastier and have less fat. > "Land of song sang the warrior bard CROW: o/` Shootin' out the walls of heartache... o/` MIKE & TOM: o/` Bang, bang! o/` > Though all the world betrays thee TOM: [Cedric] o/` Like that little hussy Fiona, who ran off with my so-called "best friend" Nigel! o/` > One sword at least your rights shall guard CROW: And one lance with speed your sticks! > On faithful harp shall praise thee. > MIKE: Thank you! We love you, Castrome Cross! Rock on! > The road was dusty, and the gait of the rinnebeast was really >hurting Clara's rear. TOM: Unfortunately, the locals had yet to develop pillow technology. > For perhaps the hundredth time that day, Clara >wished that she could have traded assignments with Marrissa. TOM: She was sure she'd make just as cruel and ruthless a dictator. > At least the >journey from Arlipor to Castrome, and then to Castrome Cross CROW: Is that anything like the Southern Cross? TOM: Maybe. Desiree does kind of remind me of Dana Sterling. > had been by >coach. TOM: And boy, were Steve Spurrier's arms tired! MIKE: Good. > Unfortunately the coach didn't go past Castrome Cross so here Clara >was riding on a rinnebeast on a dusty, rutted road through the middle of >nowhere. CROW: MTV's getting really desperate for new "Road Rules" episodes. TOM: It's what they get for canceling "Daria". > Marrissa was the one with riding experience, she'd won the darned >Belmont Stakes after all. MIKE: Actually, I believe the horse won the race - she was just along for the ride. TOM: Kinda like us, huh? MIKE: Yes, only with less wailing and gnashing of teeth. > True rinnebeasts weren't horses, they were >lizards who ran on their rear legs. CROW: Mike, is Steve Tyler a rinnebeast? MIKE: It's possible. > How much further was this Capital City TOM: o/` It's a long long wait while I'm sitting in committee... o/` >and why the heck didn't it have a nice paved road with coaches running back >and forth going to it? TOM: The Craig T. Nelson Taxi service. For all your travel needs. > "Pardon me, young lady, but you look as if you aren't having a good >time," Cedric, the minstrel said. TOM: [Clara, sarcastic] Oh, I'm *so* sorry! Shall I frolic and gambol to keep you from feeling sad?! > "I'm riding a beast I've barely ever rode before, in a dusty road, >under the hot sun, and you think I should be having a good time?" Clara >muttered. CROW: Sure! What's not to like? > "I know what you need," Cedric said. "We need a traveling song." ALL: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! > A traveling song. MIKE: Yes, as bad as an idea as it seemed, a traveling song. > That brought horror stories to Clara's mind. CROW: Endless Grateful Dead songs. Over and over and over... >Shayna's rendition of "the Laughing Vulcan and his Dog," for instance had >particular vivid memories of a near lynching. Then there had been that >field trip. CROW: And the ensuing wackiness, zaniness, and biochemical warfare. > It had taken a week for her to get those darn Disney songs out >of her mind. > MIKE: Oh, thanks you so bloody much, Steve. CROW: o/` Tale as old as time... o/` MIKE: Don't you start. CROW: It's a perfectly good song. TOM: So is o/` I'm saiiiling away... o/` CROW: AIIIEEE!!! o/` Setanopencoursetothevirginsea o/` MIKE: Thank you. > There once was a boy from Verlie TOM: Who drank thirty-four cups of iced tea. CROW: He went up to bed TOM: Didn't go to the head Both: So he woke up all covered in pee! MIKE: [shaking head] I am never telling you guys camp stories again. > His mother a chambermaid > His father was a stable hand TOM: Ooooh, it's one of *those* songs! > Loyal Servants they were TOM: It doesn't even rhyme! CROW: That's that 'New Poetry' crap for you. > The same was expected of him > But the young boy, dreams he had > MIKE: Mainly, they involved Leah Remini and a tub of maple syrup. > Oh the sea, the beautiful sea, TOM: o/` Oh the beautiful sea. You and me, you and me, oh how happy we'll be! o/` > So far away, adventure it seems CROW: For I'm Robin Hood, and I'm very good/ At avoiding the sheriff's eye... > Let the wind blow me away MIKE: [Clara] Oh yes, *please*... > and someday a hero I'll be. > CROW: Which kind - the noble, god-like, "Superman" kind, or the brooding, butt-kicking "Batman" kind? TOM: As long as it ain't the whiny, angst-ridden "Spider-Man" kind, I'm all right either way. > By the time they stopped for lunch, Clara had forgotten her >gripes. > MIKE: And focused tightly on burying Cedric neck deep in rinnebeast scat... TOM: [Clara] Okay, if we kill him now, and dump the body in those woods... > The late afternoon sun shimmered across the deep blue waters of >Sapphire Bay, highlighting the tops of the waves. The Stargazer had just >arrived and was dropping anchor off shore. CROW: Hey, wait, we need that - TOM: *Splash!* CROW: Oh, never mind. > As it was Second Watch, MIKE: NBC was almost ready to take a look at the pilot. >Marrissa was standing in the bow of the ship. As the anchor dropped, she >pulled out her telescope. TOM: [Marrissa] Hey, I can like, totally see into some guy's bedroom! > Extending it, she scanned the shore. She >avoided the town and the saucer, CROW: Not to mention the village and the butter knife. > as she wanted a feel for the normal >culture, not what ever changes this renegade Captain had made. CROW: So that's, like, bear-baiting, watching people get hung, and tossing garbage into the streets. > Riding >along the coast on towards town she spied a young man on a strange beast. MIKE: Shaggy and Scooby had arrived to solve the mystery. > It looked like a lizard of some sort, running on it's hind legs. CROW: [Marrissa] Sleestaks! Cool! >It's fore legs seemed almost useless. It was a golden yellow in color and >had a head like some illustration of a dragon Marrissa had once seen. CROW: Ooh! A Frazetta! TOM: [Sean Connery] I *am* the lasht one! >After a moment's thought, she remembered the animal in her briefing, a >rinnebeast. MIKE: And remember, buy your rinnebeast from Team Goeway Rinnebeast this month and you could get the first five months' financing at ten percent off! And be sure to say hi to the Save Money Bunny! > As the beast ran, the rider's dark blue cloak with gold edging >billowed out behind him. CROW: Gainsborough's "Blue Boy with Sauropod". > The sun glinted off the hilt of his sword, as it >was revealed in the rippling wind. TOM: [Marrissa] Well hey! Is that a banana in his pocket or is he just glad to see me! > The rider's cowl fell back, revealing >his medium length blond hair. CROW: AAAHHHH!!! It's a Backstreet Boy!!!! [The Bots dive behind their seats] MIKE: Get a grip, you two - it's just Prince Avery. BOTS: Oh. [Crow & Tom return to their seats] > Prince Avery pulled up his rinnebeast by the West shore gate to >Odyssey Castle. TOM: Taking advantage of the valet parking there. > He was probably going to get a lecture from his father >about his ride. CROW: [Avery] Boy, he always gripes just cuz I bring the lizard back with an empty tank! > The Duchess of Castrome was due in any day, especially >since the Duchess preferred sea travel, and he was expected to be there. >He was hoping that this meant he could get his choice of bride. MIKE: [Waiter reading specials] The bride tonight comes in your choice of Sarah Michelle Gellar, Angelina Jolie, or Gillian Anderson. CROW: I'll try one of each, please. Rowr! > Never mind >that he hadn't seen Hayley since she was five. TOM: Never mind that that had just been last year. > She was definitely his >choice. CROW: Okay, now this is just getting creepy! MIKE: At least he waited this long. > Avery just plain hated all the other proposed candidates. MIKE: He was voting for Nader! > And all >this haggling and looking over by various ambassadors was making him feel >like he was a rinnebeast at action. TOM: Prince Avery *is* Agent Action! > He got off his mount. MIKE: Remember, don't exploit symbolism without warming up first. > His father had a quainter and older expression for it. A piece of >horse flesh. TOM: A Big Mac? > Horses were rare on this planet, none were currently in >Ellosia. MIKE: No one having made the connection that riding the horses and immediately eating them might have something to do with that... > The Patriarch claimed to have ridden one when he attended a >Church Council in Ferigal. CROW: Of course, he also claimed it talked about "Wilbur", so his reportage wasn't exactly taken at face value. > Avery thought that the Patriarch was becoming >senile. MIKE: Although it certainly *was* possible that giant ants were stealing his morning coffee to give to the Tri-Lateral Commission. > This was not an uncommon thought among the young nobles of >Ellosia, TOM: Boy, a Patriarch commits his people to dynastic war with the bunnies *four* times, and he never hears the end of it. > and to tell the truth, among the elders as well. MIKE: The Deacons, too. The church board's going to vote on him next week. > Avery's father >said that such beasts were once preferred over rinnebeasts. CROW: For their lack of taste for human flesh for one thing... > Avery stroked >the supple skin over the left eye of his rinnebeast, if his father said it, >it probably was true. Though Avery couldn't see why. CROW: Ratliff, whatever you've been taking, stop taking it. TOM: And if you're not taking anything, maybe you should start. > His personal mount >may have not been one of the prize blue green calvary beasts of Fasstime TOM: [Spicoli] All I need are some tasty waves, a cool rinnebeast, and I'm fine. >or like the dark gold special royal breeds (his own gold was considered too >light in color) MIKE: I imagine Threadfall will be coming soon. > with their steady and precise gait, but he couldn't find >anything wrong that would make some horse a preference. CROW: You mean aside from the fact they're NOT GIANT FREAKING LIZARDS?!? > The chamberlain met him MIKE: Wilt the Stilt! TOM: He had to scramble to get all 10,000 girls out of the castle before the Prince got back! > as he handed off his rinnebeast to the >stable hand. CROW: And Stablehand passes to Chamberlain, who lays it up for a truly spectacular full-court basket! > "Your highness, where have you been?" the thin man with white >hair said, trembling. TOM: [Avery] Just checking out the subplot! > "Your father has been looking all over for you." MIKE: [Chamberlain] He looked in the dining room, the parlor, the upstairs maid's bedroom, everywhere. CROW: [Chamberlain] Yeah, both he *and* the upstairs maid searched her bedroom *very* thoroughly for fifteen whole minutes - she was so distressed when they couldn't find you that she cried out several times. MIKE: You just *had* to take that too far, didn't you? CROW: Of course! > "I was out checking on the Dunstlay Fields," Avery said. "It was a >nice five mile ride. Did you know that they are planting the new grain in >them this year?" CROW: [Chekov] Aaaah, qvadrotriticale! > "I did not, but you father needs you," the chamberlain said. MIKE: [Chamberlain] He's got a June bug cornered in the basement, and he wants you to finish it off. > "The >Duchess's ship has just come in the harbor, and they are expecting her at >the palace dock any minute. TOM: [Chamberlain] Hurry! Put on your ape suit and help bury the castle! > You've not time to change, so I guess your >riding outfit will have to do. Hurry now." > CROW: So Marrissa saw all that dialogue through her telescope? > Marrissa called out the cadence as she steered the Captain's gig >toward the dock. "Stroke, Stroke." MIKE: The crew responded " White Stripes! White Stripes!" > The Duchess and her daughter were in >the bow. TOM: All tied up nice and neat. It was a really big package with a very elaborate ribbon. > Behind her, the ship's boat was taking Commander La Forge to the >harbor to arrange shore lodgings and deliver the Duchess's luggage to her >residence in town. MIKE: [LaForge] *Ooof!* Geez, how many cases of Revlon does she need?! TOM: From Chief Engineer to bellhop. Ratliff's really done a number on poor Geordi, hasn't he? CROW: Forget about poor Geordi, what about poor us? > They moved toward the dock. "Raise oars, toss the rope >ashore!" Marrissa ordered. CROW: o/` Raise oars, toss the rope ashore, Hallelujah! o/` > As protocol demanded, TOM: [C-3P0] Protocol? Why, it's my primary function! > Marrissa climbed off >first, MIKE: But *only* because protocol demanded. Definitely *not* because Lieutenant Commander Saskatchewan back a few chapters was right. > to help the Duchess and her daughter off. MIKE: [Marrissa] No, no, the *other* side, the *other* - TOM: *SPLASH!* MIKE: [Marrissa] Well, you're the royalty. > "Thank you, Lieutenant," the Duchess said, as she climbed out. >Marrissa made to return to the boat and the ship, but the Duchess stopped >her. CROW: [Duchess] We've rented you for the whole afternoon, Marrissa. > "If you don't mind, I'd like to introduce you to the King, since your >Captain and First Mate were not able to come." TOM: [Marrissa, quickly] Oh I couldn't possibly well all right let's go say is this guy married or what. > "I'm sorry for causing that problem, your grace," Marrissa said. >"I should have been more careful, and not knocked the Captain off the back >of the ship." CROW: [Marrissa] We probably should've gone back and found him or something. MIKE: It *was* an accident, mind you, and not her bumping off the grownups and taking charge by reflex. > "There was no harm done," the Duchess said. TOM: [Duchess] We're lucky Triton took pity and turned the Captain into a merman and master of the oceans. We can only hope his courting of Scylla goes well. > "The Captain can >probably get an appointment with the King any day, as he's known to make >time to talk to the Captains of his merchant ships. CROW: Aw, no - if the King and Picard agree to swap places for the day, I'm outta here. > The King has often >remarked that his best information on this island nation about other >countries comes that way. TOM: Obviously, he hasn't checked out www.islandnationnews.org yet. > However, it's not every day that a third mate >gets to meet the King, and it's not every day that the King gets to meet a >female third mate. > MIKE: Much less the first female third mate to switch-hit over thirty home runs in a season in both leagues. >-- >Stephen Ratliff > >"But let him Dream" - Robert Picard, TNG's "Family" > TOM: Well, there's one good thing I can say about this segment. MIKE: What's that? TOM: It's over. >From stephenratliff@crosswinds.net Tue Jan 01 00:28:47 2002 >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative >Subject: NEW TNG Royal and Prime Directives 4/16 [PG] (Marrissa Stories) >From: Stephen Ratliff >Date: Tue, 01 Jan 2002 06:28:47 GMT > >Title: Royal and Prime Directives >Author: Stephen Ratliff MIKE: I prefer the term 'Perpetrator', myself. >Contact: stephen at trekiverse dot org >Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories >Part: NEW 4/16 Serialized Weekly >Rating: MIKE: Negative twenty on a one to ten scale. > [PG] >Summary: The Enterprise-E investigates a planet where a starship Captain >who crashed 20 years ago has been ruling a small nation > TOM: Cambodia. >Chapter Three: Life in Odyssey > CROW: Starring... Jean-Luc Picard as Danny Thomas! MIKE: Beverly Crusher as Ann Southern! CROW: Will Riker as Danny Thomas! TOM: Marrissa Picard as Shelly Fabares! MIKE: Geordi LaForge as Danny Thomas! TOM: Clarissa Sutter as Joyce Randolph! CROW: And, of course, Data, as Danny Thomas! > Marrissa met her father and the Stargazer's Command Crew at the >Golden Rinnebeast Inn. It was a quant Inn in Marrissa's opinion. CROW: A quantum inn? TOM: Any minute now, Archer's gonna leap into Picard and mutter "Oh Boy". > It was of what Marrissa would term a Tudor style, CROW: Speaking of which, I just let out a little Tudor. MIKE: [Sniffs] Man! Crow, did you have scrambled eggs and red beans for breakfast again? CROW: I like how they taste together! > thick dark beams >with panels of white mud plaster MIKE: o/` Knights in white mud plaster! o/` > composing the wall. Someone had gotten >creative along the beam above the door, carving a dragon in relief. CROW: Oh! A dragon! What a relief! > She >stepped though the door, just as the afternoon rain began in earnest. CROW: Jim Varney stars in "Star Trek XII: Ernest in Space"! MIKE: [Ernest] KnowhuddImean, Cap'n Vern? > The Innkeeper's wife noticed Marrissa's outfit and the badge she >wore on her shoulder TOM: [Wife] Hmm, I wonder what that big red letter "A" means? > "You would be the Third Mate I was told to expect?" >she asked. MIKE: [Imitates shotgun being cocked] > "Lieutenant Marrissa Picard at your service," Marrissa said. TOM: [Marrissa] Avoid the rush. Surrender to me now. CROW: Hey, if this is all vaguely medieval setting, shouldn't they spell those s's so they look like f's? MIKE: Yeah, so she'd be Marriffa Picard. CROW: Carry on, Marriffa! > "Your First Mate purchased your own room for you, it's the second >one on the left on the third floor," the Innkeeper's wife said. MIKE: Third one on the right for the fourth floor. CROW: Two rights, then the third room on the left. TOM: Up, left, down one room, right, up again. > "He wanted >to see you as soon as you arrived. He's on the second floor, first door on >the left." TOM: [Innkeeper's Wife] Or was it the first floor- oh forget it! > "Thank you," Marrissa said. "May I inquire as to when dinner is >served?" CROW: [hostess] About twenty minutes after I check the traps. > "When the church bell chimes six," the Innkeeper's wife said. "It's >an extra two pence." CROW: Fourth down on your left. > "I shall be there," Marrissa said, MIKE: [Marrissa] Or I shall be square! > before heading up the stairs. > CROW: Readers - don't reveal the outcome of the gripping "Check-In and Dinnertime" scene to your friends! > Marrissa opened the door to Commander Riker's quarters. "Reporting >as ordered, sir," she said. TOM: [Marrissa] What's with the candles? CROW: [Riker] Just trying to blend in with the natives. C'mere, kid... TOM: [Marrissa] Is that Barry White? > "Lieutenant, you have some explaining to do," Riker said. TOM: [Riker] How come Data gets better billing than me? MIKE: [ditto] Why did they make me shave my beard after First Contact? CROW: [tritto] Scott *Bakula?* > "You do >not under push anyone overboard at any time, MIKE: Not even if it's Bernie Kopell! > and most especially the >Captain." CROW: [Riker] When he dies, it shall be by my hand! > "But if the..." Marrissa began. > "I'm not asking for your excuses, Lieutenant," Riker continued. TOM: [Marrissa] You're not? Darn! 'Cause I had this really good one about a Ferengi and a couple of Vulcans and a can of cheez spread! >"We did not have to include you on this mission, TOM: Come to think of it, why WAS she included on this mission? They could've gone without her. MIKE: And have this be a *normal* Star Trek fanfic? CROW: Isn't that sort of a contradiction in terms? > and if you hadn't already made >yourself too well known, you would be on your way back to the Enterprise. CROW: Yeah I'd hate if they sent me back to all those 24th century comforts instead of keeping me in the land of the medieval lizard riders. >If you ever do something like that again, you will be confined aboard the >Stargazer for the rest of the mission, and we will be having another talk >about this when we return. MIKE: [Riker] You don't get the other half until you finish whacking old Cueball! Remember that! > Do I make myself perfectly clear, Lieutenant?" TOM: After using new All-Purpose Windex (tm)? You bet! > "Yes sir!" Marrissa said. "Will that be all sir?" MIKE: [Riker] Not just yet. Do you think I'd be good as the lead actor for a remake of "Big Top Pee-Wee"? Tell me honestly. > "For now, Lieutenant," Riker said. "The Captain will met us at >dinner. Dismissed." CROW: [Riker] And try not to become royalty this time! > Marrissa turned smartly and TOM: ...Smacked face first into the wall. MIKE: [Riker] Umm... The door's over there, Marrissa. > moved quickly out of the room. It was >not until she got to the room that she was assigned that she broke down in >tears. > CROW: [Marrissa] Dangit, he got me a room without HBO!! How could he?! TOM: She aches just like a women, but breaks just like a little girl. > The dinner was rather somber. MIKE: [Somberly] Would you like to try our Pizza Feast-a Wackyzilla Super Sampler Platter tonight? > The main course was a thin bread >pocket with a meat and vegetable filling. MIKE: Ah, Ye Olde Hotte Pockettes. TOM: Could've been worse. Economy service was uncooked fish sticks. > It was served hot, with plenty of >ale to drink. Marrissa asked for milk instead of the ale, and got some for >a little more money. CROW: Free Booze with every meal! Nourishing drinks slightly extra. > She ate her meal slowly, avoiding looking at anyone. TOM: But remembering to chew twenty times before swallowing. >Riker and Calgary were seated across from her, and every time she looked at >Calgary, MIKE: ...that blob of mustard on his chin made her burst out giggling. > his sneering expression made her feel like she was a failure. TOM: Playing the part of Lieutenant Calgary - Draco Malfoy! >Oh, she knew her reasoning was good. Captain York knew her father. CROW: [Mr. B] Knew your father, I did! > If they >came into contact too early, the mission could fail. MIKE: You know, you'd think the captain would let Riker in on unimportant little details like that. > That's why she had >pushed her father overboard. TOM: Plus, after a month at sea, he needed a good bath. > He couldn't go meet the King all wet. MIKE: Wouldn't it have been easier if Marrissa simply *told* Picard rather than unexpectedly pushed him off. CROW: Admit it, Marrissa, you always wanted to do that to him. > But >Riker wouldn't listen, CROW: And why should he have? MIKE: [Vince McMahon] Because I'm Marrissa Amber Flores Picard, dammit! > and Calgary, well Calgary was basking in the joy of a >man who thinks he's just been proved right. TOM: Man! I know that feeling! Right, losers? MIKE: Yeah, well I don't care what Trivial Pursuit says, the capital of Florida *should* be Miami is all I have to say. > Captain Picard arrived in the Inn's dinning area. The Captain sat >down next to Marrissa, sliding his chair closer with a scraping sound. CROW: That's just his soul shredding again. Pay it no mind. >"Ah, Missus Bath, I could I trouble you for a helping of your famous meat >pie?" he said. CROW: That is the weirdest pickup line I've ever heard! MIKE: [The Rock] The Picard likes... Pie! > "Here you go," the Innkeeper's wife replied, placing a plateful in >front of him, along with a cup of ale. MIKE: Thursdays, wet bald captains drink free. > "Enjoy your meal, Captain." TOM: [Generic foreign accent] May I tell you something? May I tell you something? Enjoy your meal! Hee-HEE! > The Innkeeper's wife left the room to tend to other duties as the >Captain dug into his meal. It took only a few moments for the Captain to >figure out the mood of the room. CROW: Gee, and he managed it without Little Miss "I sense great danger". > "Mister Calgary, I've been meaning to talk >to since before we left the ship," the Captain said. MIKE: [Picard] Tell me, have you ever heard of a thing called "Amway"? > "I understand you have >some problems working with my daughter." TOM: [Picard] What the hell's wrong with you Canadians, anyway? MIKE: That's right, Tom, stoke the fire... I just hope they never get nuclear capacity. > Marrissa looked up at Calgary and then at her father. TOM: She wondered which of them to kill first. > This was not >what she expected to hear when her father arrived. MIKE: She'd been waiting for the drunken belches and the non-stop cussing. > However, Calgary still >had that smug expression on his face that had depressed Marrissa. CROW: The part of Calgary will be played by Pernell Roberts. MIKE: [Pernell] My job. My way. > "I find her qualifications lacking," Calgary stated. TOM: [Darth Vader] I find her lack of qualifications disturbing. > "I see, and have you always had this problem respecting superior >officers?" Picard said in an even tone. CROW: Fwah...? "Superior"? They're both lieutenants, for pity's sake! MIKE: Yeah, but Marrissa the Superior lieutenant, just cuz she's Marrissa. Crow. Oh. Yeah. > Calgary's expression blanked. The color drained from his face. TOM: [Marrissa, thinking] The poison's kicked in! Excellent! >There was only one reply that he could make to that question. "I respect >all of my superior officers," he stammered. CROW: [Calgary] Except for you, ya Limey frog Bastard! I mean - D'OH!!!! > "See that you do," Picard said. "You'll probably have to work with >Marrissa a lot during this mission, and I don't want any problem from >either of you." MIKE: [Picard] Is that understood? Any more bickering and I will turn this ship *right* around and head home. BOTS: Yes, Mom. > "Yes sir," Marrissa and Calgary responded in unison. TOM: [Marrissa] Well done, my pet. CROW: [Picard] As you command, Dark One. > "Now, Marrissa, tell me about your visit to the Palace," Picard >asked. TOM: [Marrissa] I signed a contract to do two shows nightly, and I'm opening for Tony Bennett starting next week. > "Not much to say, sir," Marrissa replied. CROW: They closed the little teacups ride. > "I brought the Duchess >and her daughter to the royal dock and let her off. MIKE: [Marrissa] We probably should've let her off on the side facing the dock, but hey, live and learn. > The King and his son >met us there, and asked a few questions." CROW: Then they advanced to the lightning round, where the value of the questions is doubled. > "What did he ask about?" Riker asked. MIKE: [Marrissa] He wanted to know how the Vikings did. > "How long our trip was, and if we encountered any problems," >Marrissa said. TOM: [Marrissa] Also what the ending of "Seinfeld" was. They're really behind on this planet. > "Fairly standard stuff. He seemed rather keen on if we had >encountered any Rogian ships, which we haven't." TOM: I bet Picard's busy looking for Rogain ships, too! CROW: He's not only the captain - he's also a client. > "Marrissa, describe the King and the rest of the welcoming party," >Picard said, as he scraped his plate clean. [All groan] CROW: That's it, Jean-Luc - just give her an excuse to make up another long, pointless list! > "The king appears to be an aged man, MIKE: [Connoisseur] Oh, an 1845 Monarch. A *very* good year for kings. > with a well kept white beard. TOM: Cameron Mitchell in a role so rare it will give you E. Coli! >His clothing was a long purple robe, with gold stitching to make it look >more formal. CROW: [Austin Powers] And that's all he wore, too! Groovy, baby, ye-heah! > He wears a rather simple crown. MIKE: [Marrissa] It says he's the king of someplace called "Burger". > His son is sixteen according >to Lady Hayley. TOM: [Marrissa] He keeps saying he's "going to be seventeen", though. It's so annoying. > He was wearing a dark blue tunic with black pants, and dark >blue cloak. MIKE: We believe him to be on "Miami Vice". > He was accompanied by several soldiers dressed in the royal >crest CROW: Recommended by 4 out of 5 Kings who have their lackeys br