Original work by: David Sutton.
MiSTed by: Chris Mayfield.
Created on: Friday, 10 January 1997.
Added on: Thursday, 04 October 2007.
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Rated 7.38 with standard deviation 1.41 on 8
evaluations.
[MiSTer's note: this is my first MiSTing. I would appreciate any constructive criticism. Is it funny? Are my references too obscure? Etc. Thanks. Chris Mayfield camfield@iastate.edu]
[General opening antics]
[SOL. The lights are dimmed and in the background is a banner saying "Dunkerton 3rd Grade Piano Recital." On the desk is Tom Servo in a tux, sitting at a baby grand. Crow enters into the shot.]
Crow: Next up is Tommy Servo, son of John and Shiela Servo.
Tommy has been taking lessons from
Mike: [walking on] Hi, everybody. Uh, Crow, what's Tom doing?
Crow: He's going to play the piano.
Mike: No he's not.
Crow: Yes he is.
Mike: No he's not. His arms are inoperable. [Crow shakes his
head] No, he's not going to--[Turns to camera.] We'll be right
back. [turns and argues with Crow. Go to commercials.]
[When we return from the commercials, the lights are back up and Tom is talking to Mike.]
Tom: So Mike, what did you think of my performance?
Mike: It was veryinteresting. What was the name of the piece
again?
Tom: 4'33.
[light blinks]
Crow: Uh, Mike, Cage and Glass are calling.
[Deep 13. Dr. Forester is looking at the camera. Behind him is a desk with various computer stuff on it. Frank is busy typing away.]
Forester: Hello there, Van Cliburn. Frank and I were just about
to start our plan for world domination. Frank?
Frank: Thanks, Clayton. Will Rogers once said, "Everybody talks
about the Internet, but nobody does anything about it." Well,
this week we've come up with a way to take over the world using
the Information Superhighway. It's based on those annoying chain
letters that people continually post. Dr. Forester?
Forester: Thank you, Frank. I call it TAKE.OVER.FAST. We have
culled ten random names from the phone book. Then we post the
names to ten newsgroups on the Internet. The recipients of the
post conquer the person whose name is at the top of the list.
Then they move everyone else on the list up one spot, add their
name to the #10 spot, and post it to ten more newsgroups.
Frank: Our estimates show that in 20 to 60 days we'll be
receiving either $50,000 or control of Alabama.
Forester: As for you, Space Ace, we've got another abominable
fanfic from alt.startrek.creative. Hope it goes down hard.
[SOL]
All: We've got fanfic sign! Aaaaaaaah!
[Door sequence. 654321]
[Mike and bots enter the theatre]
>This is an automated reposting of fiction from the
>alt.startrek.creative archives.
>This is archive file: story/tng/David_Sutton/ADayInTheLife.zip
>Any comments, questions, etc. about the archives may be
>addressed to jfy@tivoli.com.
>=====================================CUT >HERE===================================
>[story/tng/David_Sutton/ADayInTheLife.zip] comment:
Tom: It sucks.
Mike: We don't know that yet.
------------------------------------------------------------------
- This story came from the alt.startrek.creative archive on -
- ftp.cis.ksu.edu (129.130.10.83) -
- -
- If you have any submissions for the archive, please either -
- upload them to the /pub/upload directory on ftp.cis.ksu.edu -
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>
> We's be having a little trouble
Crow: With ours grammer.
> with the net recently.
> Here's my submission of a short story for everyone's
> enjoyment. the message says to send it here. So be it!
> A Day in the Life of...
Crow: Ivan Denisovich!
Tom: Leopold Bloom!
Mike: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band!
> Lt. jg. Ptzzrr Frageilux
All: Oh.
> Tactical Officer, U.S.S. Trafalgar NCC-1760, Gamma Shift
>
> Historian's Note: This takes place during Fifth season
> of ST:TNG
Crow: What's that on the Jewish calendar?
> There was that annoying chiming noise again.
Tom: Stupid ol' doorbell. I hate you.
> It had
>haunted her through her dreams and now it pursued her into the
>realm of the living.
Crow: Jehovah Witnesses. You just can't escape 'em.
> With a conscious effort she clenched her
>hand into a fist, a green scaled gauntlet of defiance. She then
>smashed it into the wall console, scattering plastic around the
>floor. The chiming noise ceased.
Mike: Remember kids, violence is the answer.
>"I hate mornings..." she commented to no one.
>Lt. Ptzzrr
Crow: Pat, I'd like to buy a vowel
> Frageilux raised her body off the warm stone slab,
>removing the gravel-textured covers as a groggy afterthought.
>Sheimmediately began heading for the shower,
All: [high pitched Psycho noises]
> set for high-sonic
>followed by a light rinse of water. She let the high vibrations
>clear the sleep from her mind.
Tom: Along with any trace of intelligent thought.
> "Computer, give me time and
>schedule."
>The computer answered without question.
Mike: Let's all just enjoy that sentence.
> "Ship's time is now
>2213 hrs. Your shift begins at 2400 hrs. and ends at 0600 hrs.
>You are to be in attendance at the Security Hand-to-Hand testing
Crow: [gruff sergeant] How's your right hand, Lieutenant?
Mike: [squeaky private] Fine sir.
Crow: How's your left hand?
Mike: Fine sir.
Crow: Very good. Next.
>starting at 0630 hrs. No other scheduled events have been
>located."
>Ptzzrr stepped out of the shower stall, the water glistening
>off her leathery green skin.
Crow: This is what happens when you fall asleep under a tanning
bulb.
> "Who else will be in attendance?"
>"All other Security Personnel not currently on assigned duty
>at that time." replied the computer.
>"Good, it's about time come of those lazy people on Alpha and
>Beta shift had work to do." She began putting on her Uniform,
>attempting to make it stretch properly to fit her massive
Crow: Naughty bits.
Mike: Crow!
> size
>and shape. "They never made these to fit reptiles." remarked
>Ptzzrr with some wit.
All: That's *some wit!*
>A quick laser-grooming of her ebony
>claws, attachment of her arm-wraps and she was ready to face the
>Galaxy.
Crow: With the worst breath of the day.
>However, there was
>admittedly
>one more task to perform.
Mike: Annotate Finnegan's Wake?
Crow: Prove Fermat's last therom true in a purely euclidian
universe?
Tom: Decipher Linear A?
>"Lt.Frageilux to ship's
>Repairs. My comm panel appears to need repairs, could you have
>someone sent up to fix it again?"
>A disgruntled voice echoed back. "Again?!" Could it be?
>"That's the third time this week?!"
Mike: [laughing] Property damage is fun!
> Yep, got the Tellerite. "Can't
>you Gorns get up quietly?!"
>"would you rather I slept in your bed Mr. Golarg? My offer
>still stands?" She smiled one of her trademark grins,
Mike: All grins are the property of Paramount Pictures. Any
unauthorized use of grins is an infringement of copyright and is
strictly prohibited.
> the large teeth designed for ripping glinted
>in the window's starlight. Oh how she wished that Tellerite in
>Engineering could see it.
>"Crew on its way Lieutenant." groaned Golarg. "PLEASE be
>more careful next time?! Out."
Tom: On a limb.
>A loud roar escaped Frageilux's throat as she entered the
>corridor, causing many a new crew member to jump.
Crow: And wet themselves.
>"That
>Tellerite can be such a pushover," Ptzzrr mused, "if only people
>knew how to deal with him."
>
>Ptzzrr made her way to the dining hall. Right now the only
>people there were from the Alpha Shift, having late dinners or
>that last cup of coffee before turning in for the night.
Mike: Yeah, nothing puts you down like a pot of java.
> Ptzzrr
>swept the room with her silvery eyes, looking for an appropriate
>dining companion. She grinned as she located her Human
>commanding officer, Lt. Ireland, brooding over some data padds.
Tom: [pouty voice] Go away. I'm brooding.
>But priorities first, she collected her typical breakfast. A
>cage containing small furry creatures with long pink tail, plus
>one other large box with air holes. the Trafalgar kept special
>stores for the unique diets of her non-himan crew members.
Crow: Mike, which ones are the non-himan crew members?
Mike: I guess all of them.
>And
>admittedly the replicators had trouble in creating mice.
Tom: She's not gonna
Crow: I think I'm going to be ill.
> "Good
>evening sir, might I join you?"
>Ireland looked up at what had created the monstrous shadow
>across the table.
Mike: The absence of light, perhaps?
>"Evening Ptzzrr. Go ahead." Ireland then
>settled back down and attempted to concentrate, with a great lack
>of success.
>
All: It was faaaaaaaaabulous!
> The squeaking from the panicked mice was driving him
>to distraction. He placed down his current padd and stared.
Tom: Take a picture. It lasts longer.
>Ptzzrr paused in mid-swallow, she had noted that Ireland was
>looking at her directly. Ptzzrr quickly inhaled the offending
>tail from her latest victim. "Something wrong sir?"
Mike: [pointing] You've got some rodent on your chin.
Crow: Uuulgh.
>Ireland picked the padd back up from the table. "Why must it
>still be breathing?"
>Ptzzrr was used to having this conversation. "Our stomachs
>have trouble processing the nutrients if the food is cooked.
>Besides, the taste is much better if it's still kicking." she
>popped another mouse into her mouth, much to its protest,
Mike: [squeaking] I protest!
Tom: Overruled.
>to
>emphasize her point. She pushed the cage towards Ireland in a
>gesture of friendliness. "There's plenty to share, would you
>care for one sir?"
>Ireland, not known to back down, blanched.
Tom: Then Ireland turned green.
> "I'll pass this
>time Ptzzrr, the fur has a tendency to get stuck between my
>teeth." He began working on his data padds again.
>Ptzzrr chuckled "That's why the Fire invented claws."
Crow: That's why the Water created pogo sticks.
Tom: That's why the Air created styrofoam peanuts.
Mike: That's why the Earth created argyle socks.
>A new voice joined the arguement. "Best of luck Frageilux,
>you should know my now that Human stock from Terra Prime isn't
>what its cracked up to be by Minerva."
Mike: Did that last sentence make *any* sense?
> they looked up to see the
>large muscled Human with black bush-cut hair standing there.
>Even without his attire of skirt uniform and ceremonial short
>sword,
Crow: You mean he was naked?
> which showed his Magna Roman heritage, it was clear who
>this devil's advocate was.
Tom: Newt Gingrich.
>His deep charismatic voice and
>expressions used were a complete give-away.
Crow: So it's no use telling us who he is.
>Ireland looked up at the new arrival. "I've swallowed gold
>fish before, and eaten raw fish back home thank you, Ensign."
>Ens. Maximus now made an exaggerated move to retrieve a
>mouse from the cage. With a great grin on his face he held the
>protesting creature above his mouth.
Tom: Don't you do that. Do you--
> Making sure Ireland was
>watching, he dropped the squirming mouse inside his mouth and
>began chewing.
All: Noooooooooooooooo!
Tom: This is sick, people. SICK, SICK, SICK!
Crow: *I'm* sick. Ugggh.
Mike: Are you going to be all right, Crow?
Crow: Yeah. I think so
> He took care to spit out any offending bones
>onto the tray in front of him. "You know, a little monkey's
>brain jelly,
Special Note: Linear A is the name given to a script used in ancient Crete. It is only partially understood, and much of that knowledge comes from its similarities to Linear B, which was deciphered by Michael Ventris in 1952. Joseph Nebus
Crow: No I'm not going to be all right. Uuuuuuuahhhh!
[retches]>and you'd have a real champion here." He removed
>the tail from his mouth last of all, placing it on the tray on
>top of the small pile of bones.
>Ptzzrr reached over, "May I?" At Maximus' nod she retrieved
>the tail and placed it in her gapping maw,
Mike: It's mouse backwash.
Tom: I don't believe you just said that.
Crow: [retches some more]
Mike: Sorry Crow.
>looking eye-to-eye
>with Ireland the whole time. "the tails are one of the best
>parts, are you sure you won't reconsider sir? I brought dessert
>with me as you can see."
Mike: Want some hamster pudding?
Crow: [retches]
Tom: Geez, Mike, why don't you just kick him in the gut?
Mike: I'm sorry. I said I'm sorry.
>Ireland was now retrieving his data padds. "That's quite all
>right thank you, see you both a 0630 hrs. Lieutenant, Ensign."
>Ireland now beat a hasty retreat out of the dining hall, much to
>the amusement of Vellus Maximus.
Mike: Isn't that Latin for Big Velvet?
Tom: Too bad it's not Blue Velvet.
>"I'm surprised Lady Ptzzrr!"
Crow: [Ptzzrr] I'm surprised Lady Ptzzrr, too.
> Maximus was trying to control
>himself. "I never knew our Lord to be so squeamish."
Mike: Well, God's had the flu lately.
>Ptzzrr grinned that toothy smile of hers. "he isn't
>normally, but he saw what I had brought for dessert."
Tom: Hamdingers!
Mike: [jumping up] Where? Where?
Tom: Calm down, Mike. It's a joke.
Mike: Don't *do* that!
> She now
>brought into Maximus' view the larger container she had retrieved
>earlier, which Ireland had been able to see and hear all along.
>Now Maximus could hear the chorus of meowing noises of several
>small kittens echoing from the larger box. Ptzzrr licked her
>lips. "Yum!"
>Even Maximus looked a little taken aback. "You weren't
>surely My Lady?"
Tom: [Ptzzrr] Sure, and then I was going to puree some puppies.
Crow: Uulghh. Not you too.
>Ptzzrr removed one of the critters from the box, a small
>white kitten. Its eyes were tightly closed and the fear was
>evident in its cries.
Mike: I *do* believe in Gorns. I *do* believe in Gorns. I do, I
do, I *do* believe in Gorns.
>"Oh no, these are being taken down to
>Sickbay for examination. They're Dr. Dunn's new litter. She had
>an emergency so she asked me to bring them down." A mysterious
>sparkle appeared in the reptile's eyes. "Of course, I seem to
>have forgotten to tell Ireland about that little fact."
>Their roarinf laughter could be heard across the hall. The
>friends settled down to enjoy their shared feast, much to the
>mice's annoyance.
Mike: [squeaking] Pesky carnivores!
>
>"Beta Shift is relieved."
Mike: [sighing] Man, that was a good BM.
>Lt. Martin was now accepting the
>Captain's chair from Lt. Cmdr. Cal, the head of Beta shift.
Crow: Now Lt. Martin is going to relieve himself.
Mike: I don't think so, Crow.
>"I stand relieved.
Crow: See!
>No reports of an unusual activity,
>Sickbay reported one case of Tillurian Flu, Crewman Ut'war should
>recover by tomorrow evening."
Tom: Well, I guess dying can be seen as a form of recovery.
> Cal looked on as the members of
>his shift left their stations. His Bajorian features betrayed
>his desire
Crow: For pancakes.
> that something more interesting had happened. "Should
>be a quiet night Steven."
All: A *too* quiet night.
>"Famous last words sir.
Crow: Rosebud.
Tom: Either those curtains go or I do.
Mike: The rest is silence.
> Good Night." Martin settled into the
>chair, much like a prince does to a King's throne.
Tom: It's my throne and I'll relieve myself if I want to.
Mike: Not you, now.
Tom: You're the one who started it.
> He was now
>calling up his Ops. control for a system check.
>Lt. Frageilux was now at Tactical. "Quiet night Chief?"
>C.W.O. Fizbin tilted back his fedora.
Crow: It's the young Luke Skywalker Chronicles!
> "Not a tinka', dem Crab
>heads are laying pretty low toots. Gonna takes a mugshot?"
Crow: [siren noise]
Mike: Pull over, buddy. It's the jargon police. Did you see how
you were slanging back there?
>Frageilux clicked her claws in the negative. "Only if the
>Cardassians do something interesting.
Tom: If only this fanfic would do something interesting.
>Good Night Chief."
Crow: Good night, McCloud.
>As
>Oxmox left Ptzzrr began a full systems check. "Do you think
>Eir'tha will be alright Linda?"
>The Human Science Officer behind her ceased her systems
>check to reply. "Tillurian Flue isn't fatel to Caitans, more like
>measles to a Human."
>Ens. Maximus had now manned his station at Helm.
Mike: Jesse Helm!
Tom: [southern accent] If the president is going to be in this
fanfic, he'd better bring a bodyguard.
>"Wonder
>what's taking Sillenn so long by Mercury?" A whoosh coming from
>the third turbo-lift
Tom: A screaming came across the sky.
> told them that their Medusan Navigator
Crow: Aren't they the ones that drive people insane?
Tom: How are they any different than any of the other characters
in this fanfic?
> had
>finally arrived. The doors parted admitting a metallic box
>hovering almost a metre from the floor. The four metallic
>tentacles attached to the box waved in agitation as it hovered
>over the Navigation.
Mike: How prudent is it to have a navigator who's stuck inside a
box?
Tom: If the author were interested in prudence, he wouldn't have
included 3 PAGES OF MOUSE EATING!
Crow: [groans]
>Lt. Sillenn quickly tied into her Nav. panel. "Why do I
>always get the lifts that Engineering are using?" Ptzzrr
>chuckled privately to herself. She was recalling the time the
>Medusan had come up the emergency shaft
Mike: Shaft!
Bots: Wawcka-chica, wawcka-chica, wawcka-chica!
Special Note: Magna Roma is the not too implausible name given by Star Trek fandom to that 20th Century Rome culture where Spock and McCoy were threatened with being put on television (``Bread and Circuses''). In the original episode the planet was just ``planet four'' of ``star system 892'', which turns into the unsatisfying adjective form DCCCXCII-IVian.
Joseph Nebus
>on her own power in an
>attempt to make her shift on time. This had been much to the
>surprise of a visiting Commodore, who happened to be standing
>over the chute door at the time.
Mike: The guy took one look at her. Now he's in a padded room
playing with his own spittle.
>Ens. Olda'winda at Ops. ruffled his feathers, stretching his
>claws out from the perch he sat on. "Message from Sickbay to Lt.
>Frageilux, your presence is requested at 0230 hrs."
Crow: [parrot, whistles] Sickbay, raaaw, presence requested.
>Ptzzrr clacked her claws in approval. "Acknowledged."
>Ens. Linda Che leaned over from Science again. "Lucky you,
>now you've got a free reason to nip out for a quick snack."
All: Nooooooo!
Crow: Hold me, Mike.
Mike: [patting Crow] It's okay, it's okay.
>Martin chuckled, nothing escaped his hawk-like human ears.
Mike: His huge ears exert an incredible gravitic pull. Not even
light can escape once it has crossed his dreadful Lobe Horizon.
>"With an amazing figure like hers, I'm always surprised how she
>keeps the calories off."
Mike: A gerbal shake for breakfast, a gerbal shake for lunch, and
then a sensible dinner.
Crow: [retching]
Mike: Sorry, I forgot.
>This had been a long running joke
>between the two.
>Ptzzrr smiled back. "Keeping up with your off-duty
>activities is more than enough Steven."
Tom: He's a member of the quilting bee, a little league coach,
and helps run the concession stand at the junior high basketball
games.
>"Oh the broken hearts you two must leave behind." added
>Sillenn.
Mike: Along with the parially chewed mice.
Crow: [more retching] Stop that!
Tom: Geez, Mike, you trying to dehydrate him?
Mike: I didn't--he--I meant--
>"When's the wedding My Lord?" noted Maximus.
>Olda'winda was flapping his wings in fake horror. "What
>would your parents say?! have you thought of them?"
Tom: Yes, but they're already married.
>Che
Crow: Guevara.
>joined in. "They have, they want the first hatchling to
>be a girl."
>Ptzzrr smiled. "With Daddy's eyes right? Thought remember,
Mike: Word speak.
>we promised to name him after my Nest Mother's thirf cousin
>Steven." Martin couldn't stop laughing at the picture this was
>bringing up.
Tom: He's right. Thirf cousins are funny.
>Ptzzrr continued "The stares, the gossip..."
>Ptzzrr leaned closer to the Human, and the two stared deeply into
>each others
Crow: Nostrils.
> eyes, enjoying the shared humour.
Mike: Which, unfortunately, was lost on the readers.
>"We share endure it all in the name of love then." proclaimed
>Martin. "The scandal, the..." What ever else Martin was going
>to say was lost in the computer's voice.
>"Battle Drill One will commence in one minute."
>Ptzzrr growled a sigh. "Next time Steven."
>
>At 0227 hrs. Lt. frageilux arrived at the Trafalgar's
>Sickbay, the dimness of the evening lights clearly indicating
Crow: The *dimness* *clearly* indicating?
Tom: Yeah. It answered without questioning, too.
>that Trafalgar was in the middle of Ship's night. An Eieuon
Mike: Well *there's* where all Ptzzrr's vowels went.
> in
>medical uniform was currently on watch as medical officer, her
>long furred tail twitching in annoyance. Ptzzrr approached the
>brown-haired cat-like officer,
Crow: Whew! This place stinks. They must have officers.
> noting that its whiskers were
>twitching in concern. "Reporting as ordered Lieutenant, or
>should I say Doctor?"
>Dr. Starbright twirled her tail in amusement.
Tom: Starlight, Starbright, first doctor I see tonight.
> "Oh drop the
>formalities Ptzzrr,
Crow: Thud.
> I just used them so my request would look
>good on the record. So don't be a Tail-Kinker!" With the grace
>and agility of her race
Mike: She clawed the good sofa.
>she sprang over the duty table, then
>wrapped her tail around Ptzzrr's arm in greeting. "this is going
>to need your special abiltities."
Mike: To eat harmless, defenseless creatures.
>Ptzzrr warmly stroked Starbright's tail in affection. "What
>have you poked you tail into this time?"
Crow: A pencil sharpener.
> Starbright's tail
>curled in further amusement as she led Ptzzrr back towards the
>private rooms in Sickbay.
>Crewman Ut'war was asleep on the bed, still recovering from
>Tillurian Flue. His black fur was damp and matted with sweat,
>but his breathing was strong.
Mike: Nonexistant, but strong.
>Starbright guessed Ptzzrr's
>thoughts.
Tom: AH! AH! DEMON CREATURE! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
>"He's not the problem, Eir'tha is going to be just fine,
>bless the Goddess. It's his pet that's the problem, I think
>Lister is lonely."
Crow: Well, being the last surviving human trapped in the vast
nothingness of space can't help much.
>Ptzzrr chuckled a low growl, as much from relief as from
>amusement. "Is that all? I think I can give Lister a home for a
>while, do you have his supplies?"
>"They're in in the iso-lab, one twitch." Starbright removed
>her tail from Ptzzrr's grasp and sprang towards the back of
>Sickbay.
Mike: Honey, I think you need to let the cat out. She's getting
frisky.
>Ptzzrr looked down at Ut'war, he was purring soundly as
>he slept.
>"Don't mind me Eir'tha." said Ptzzrr privately, "I'll make
>sure Lister is well fed, for a suitable price of course."
Tom: [weasely] Gee, Mr. Eir'tha, it'd be a real shame if
something happened to your pet, if you know what I mean.
>Starbight had returned carrying a large container full of
>small round furballs.
Crow: [hacking] Here. I coughed these up.
> They were cooing and purring in happiness,
>oblivious to their fate. Starbright's tail found its welcome way
>back around Ptzzrr's arm. "A Tribble for your Troubles?"
All: [groan]
Tom: I want to hurt this author sooooo bad.
Mike: If it's any comfort, Tom, he's probably a lonely computer
geek hunched over his keyboard, trying to find acceptance through
his fiction, and if he ever read this, he'd probably see what a
total failure his quest for love and companionship has been, and
resign himself to a lifetime of bitter loneliness and
disillusionment.
Tom: [cheering up] Do you really think so?
>Starbright's tail curled in laughter as she handed the box to the
>Gorn.
>"Thank you my friend." Ptzzrr's large tongue licked the lips
>of her huge maw. "Lister and I are going to feast well tonight,
Crow: Today is a good day to dine.
>that Python has a great taste in food."
>Starbright's tail hairs flared up slightly as her ears
>flattened. "Must you really talk abut eating them?"
Mike: If I didn't, this fanfic wouldn't have a plot.
>Ptzzrr lightly patted Starbright's tail in a comforting
>gesture. "They're pest just like the Grabfoots on your world.
>However my people feast on them,
Tom: Be it fried or battered or roasted or boiled or
> if the Federation would only
>share its blessing of Tribbles, then more of my People would feel
>friendship towards the Federation. Maybe more then just twelve
>of us would join StarFleet!"
Tom: It's a culture built completely around snacking.
Mike: [reporter] Today Starfleet flew in 100 metric tons of
finger foods in an attempt to placate Gorn rebels occupying the
planet.
>One of the Tibbles was trying to
>roll outside the box and escape, Ptzzrr solved this dilemma by
>popping it into her mouth. "They are quite delicious Starbright,
>care to try?"
Crow: Now the pink ones are the cherry creme. The one with the
nuts is carmel.
>"To each their own." Starbright removed her tail from
>Ptzzrr's arm as it coiled in further laughter. "Just don't
>forget to feed Lister with some now!"
Tom: [laughing] Oh, the carnage!
>
>It was 0640 hrs. aboard the Trafalgar, the main holo-deck had
>been cleared and only members of the Security Crew remained here.
>Being Head of the Department,
Crow: Mike, what rank is Being Head of the Department?
> Lt. Ireland was addressing the
>assembled crew. "It's that time of year again, we'll be
>assessing how well you've learned your lessons.
Mike: The T.A. will hand out the test. You have 90 minutes to
complete the exam. Please be sure to show your work.
>And
>whether or not you need further time assigned for practice
>sessions on the holo-deck."
Tom: So why are they practicing on the holodeck and not in the
*gym?*
>C.P.O.
Crow: Sharky.
> Growlexxeroffi was stretching next to Frageilux. "A
>bit long winded isn't he, how does he find mates?"
Mike: He moves his pieces into a position where his opponent's
king can't move out of check.
>Ptzzrr rumbled in a low chuckle. "Oh he's not bad, for a
>human." Ptzzrr continued flexing her scales, the leathery skin
>breathing now, helping her to cool down.
>"More action, less talk."
Crow: [DJ] On KMST we always have more great action from the
'70s and '80s, and less talk.
> growled Growlexxeroffi. "I wager
>I'll have the huuuuman in the third round. Want to see monkey
>fly?"
Tom: [cackling] Fly my monkeys! Fly! Fly!
>Ptzzrr continued her exercises, ignoring her commanding
>officer's droning. "Have you been seeing Lucassiss again?"
Crow: Yes. And Spielburgiss.
>Growlexxeroffi flicked her tail up, signalling to Ptzzrr that
>she'd hit the mark. "He is desirable, for a Kzinti. The tree
>climbers haven't corrupted his Hero's Blood."
>Ireland was finally finishing. "Are we ready Gentlebeings?
Mike: If you prick us, do we not bleed in a multitude of colors?
>Please report to your assigned match rings, and happy hunting!"
>Growlexxeroffi purred. "Lousy speech, good ending. I wonder
>how well he screams?"
>Ptzzrr wasn't going to ask what that meant...
>
>Lt. Ptzzrr. flexed her enourmous arms as she slowly and
>deliberately entered the ring.
Tom: [announcer] In the corner ring, weighing in at 230 pounds,
the Green Gargantuan!
> The Andorian across from her turned
>a lighter shade of blue, much to Ptzzrr's delight. "Mr.
>Starfire, it is an honour to meet such a noble opponent so early
>in the testing." Ptzzrr flashed that trademark grin of hers.
Mike: Ptzzrr Grin(TM), patent pending.
>Crewman Starfire twitched his antenna in respect as he bowed.
>"The honour is mine scaly one, it shall be a pleasure to remove
>your teeth one at a time.
All: [singing] You'll be a deeennntist!
> Then feast on your remains while you
>watch from the heavens."
>Ptzzrr growled in unrestrained delight. "You're still a
>silver-tongued devil Koola. Am I still having you for dinner
>tonight?"
Crow: Chi-chi's okay?
Tom: No Mexican. Chili peppers burn my gut.
>"Only on one condition sir, no pulling punches." Ptzzrr
>agreed to the terms, and then began
Mike: The beguine.
> the fight. True to her
>word, she didn't hold back. Starfire realized this most when
>Ptzzrr succeeded in grabbing him, then using only the one arm,
>threw him clear across the holo-deck. He impacted on the
>bulkhead with a solid thunk.
Tom: It looks like he landed foul. She's gonna have to throw him
again.
>"Next victim!" announced Ptzzrr, much to the cheering of her
>friends there. Koola brushed himself off and saluted the victor,
>much to the crowd's delight.
>
>Ens. Mawditt was the next candidate for Ptzzrr's amusement.
>"Is that a Horta in your pants or are you just scared to see me?"
All: [no talking, just quiet, quiet weeping]
>Mawditt wasn't going to allow himself to be thrown off be
>this easy banter.
Mike: However, the bad grammer threw him for a loop.
>"You won't get me like you did last year sir.
>I just might have some surprises in store for you."
Crow: Like a new car!
Tom and Mike: [cheering] Yaaaaaaah!
>She clacked her claws in approval, the safety covers on them
>muffling the sound. "A challenge, good! I like my meals to have
>some spirit in them, especially the human ones! Let's begin."
Tom: The problem I in developing a relationship with Ptzzrr is
that she sees everyone in terms of the food chain.
>Though Mawditt proved himself well, it was simply a matter of
>tiime before his inevitable defeat. Ptzzrr observed this with
>some wit
All: That's some wit!
>at the end. "You were right Kirk, you did have some
>secrets in store for me, guess I'll have to sit on them."
>Mawditt, stuck underneath Ptzzrr's huge form, could only wave
>acknowledgement...
Crow: [gasping] Guullairyou're crushingmytracheacan't
>A quick shower to cool down and Ptzzrr was ready for the next
>contestant.
Tom: [announcer] Next up on Altarian Gladiators
> "Lynxerrowl! Are you prepared to let the fur fly
>again today as it did last time?"
>The Lynxoid grinned back, baring her ruby-coloured teeth
Mike: Oh, she must have chewed one of them plaque tablets.
> in
>a grin of pleasure. "Your skin is tough, good. It means I can
>enjoy myself more when using my claws!" To emphasize her point
>she unsheathed her mighty razors of death.
Crow: The first razor of death lifts the hair
>"Fair's fair." clacked Ptzzrr in agreement, she removed the
>safety covers from her claws. Oh how good it felt to get those
>accursed things off! "Someone have a medical unit on stand-by,
Tom: Today on Stand-by, Stand-by, medical humor.
>this is going to be a joy and a pleasure!"
>Ptzzrr had been friends with C.P.O. Growlexxeroffi long
>enough to learn her species' weaknesses.
Mike: Kryptonite.
> She used these lessons
>to great effect against poor Lynxerrowl. Though Lynxerrowl did
>fight hard, she also fell to the green juggernaut.
Crow: Fortunately, another potential action sequence was narrowly
averted.
> Later, after
>the match, they settled back to watch the other matches still in
>progress, while being treated my medical staff on site.
>"You fight well, it was most enjoyable sir." Lynxerrowl was
>having a broken leg set while being refreshed.
Tom: Nothing goes together like Zima and compound fractures.
>"It was my pleasure Lynxerrowl, its always good to meet
>people who enjoy their work." the Gorn was having three of her
>fingers pushed back into their sockets.
Mike: It's Snap-Tite Digits!
> "Where'd you learn that
>new trip move of yours, I've never seen it before."
>"A little trick I picked up from the Iotian Fizbin."
Crow: Iotian Fizbin? Isn't that what Zaphod Beeblebrox drinks?
> She
>yelped slightly as her hind toes was shoved back into place.
>"Where's Growlexxeroffi, she was supposed to meet me here?"
>Ptzzrr pointed over to the centre ring.
Tom: [ringmaster] And in the center ring, the flying Zamboni
Brothers!
>Inside the large
>Lynxoid could be seen stalking the Human Ireland, Growlexxeroffi
>was living up to her word. "Playing with her food I would
>imagine..."
Mike: French fry to hamburger's knight two.
>Lynxerrowl extended out a small box to Ptzzrr. "Mouse?"
>"Don't mind if I do..."
Crow: Aaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaaah! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
>One of these days he mice were going to join the Federation
>and register a protest...
Mike: Look out! It's a pan-galactic being named Mickey!
>
>Next was the Vulcan Torvack.
Crow: And Dean-ack.
> "Well well, one of the
>founding members of the Federation."
Mike: Wow, he must be old.
>Yeoman Torvack bowed. "You know our history well sir. It
>would be logical to assume that your knowledge in combat is just
>as thorough."
Tom: Actually, it's not.
> He appeared completely calm, as befitted his race.
Crow: Finnish.
>"History no, Vulcan Anatomy yes." Ptzzrr licked her scaly
>lips in anticiptation, this one was going to be difficult to
>phase. "You Vulcans have no emotions."
Tom: Mike, what part of the anatomy are the emotions?
Mike: Hush.
>"That isn't exactly true sir." commented Torvack as he
>entered a fighting stance. His brows furrowed in concentration.
>"Good, cause you're going to experience some now!" Ptzzrr
>charged with lightning quickness to the attack, only to find
>Torvack equal to every mve she made.
Tom: Every spelling mistake was ruthlessly checked.
>Ptzzrr couldn't help but admire the new recruit's
>abilities.
Crow: [incredulously] You can spell!
> "You've been studying Yeoman, excellent! I can see
>why you transferred to Security."
>"Thank you sir." Torvack continued his quick darting
>movements.
Mike: I'm a sprite!
> "I've taken it upon myself to study Gorn anatomy."
Crow: [Torvack] I know that your emotions are in your spleen.
>With that warning he now suddenly lunged forward and with a quick
>grasp squeezed the nerve juncture at Ptzzrr's neck.
Mike: I'll give you such a pinch!
> the Gorn
>colossus began to sag and a ghost of a smile spread across
>Torvack's face.
Crow: Note that Torvack's smiles are public domain.
>It was at that moment that a mouse ran across the padded
>floor, chased by a quickly moving grey furred figure in a
Crow: Skintight teddy.
>Security uniform. It had the effect of distracting torvack long
>enough that he failed to note that Ptzzrr was no longer sinking
>to the ground.
>She gave him a polite reminder with her joined fists, as the
>green scaled ram of force connected with a resounding crack to
>his chin.
Tom: I do believe that last sentence had more detail and
excitement in it than the entire story up till now.
> the stunned figure was flung out of the ring by the
>momentum, leaving a trail of green blood to the smiling Gorn. He
>would probably call the whole experience quite fascinating, when
>he was conscious enough to appreciate it better.
Mike: Assuming he can say anything with a crushed jaw.
>"Never become distracted Yeoman, you'd know that if you'd
>been in Security as long as I have." she went over and checked
>the pulse of the still Vulcan.
Crow: He's dead, Jim.
Mike: That was just plain gratuitous.
> He was still breathing. "Besides,
>you should know that FEMALE hides are too thick for that nerve
>pinch trick." Growlexxeroffi, the offending grey blur from
>earlier, approached Ptzzrr. The Lnyxoid was carrying the mouse
>distraction by its tail with her teeth.
All: [groan]
Crow: Dear God no more mice...
> "Explanation for the
>interruption Chief?" demanded Ptzzrr.
>Growlexxeroffi winked her ears in a gesture of surprise. "It
>wasn't really Maximus' fault, how was he to know a Monkey was
>going to be dropped on him?"
Mike: Davy Jones?
Crow: Mike Nesmith?
Tom: Monkey, guys, not Monkee.
> Apparently she was referring to what
>had happened at the conclusion of another fight.
Crow: Apparently, the author doesn't seem to feel we need to be
told about it.
>Ptzzrr plucked the mouse from the Lynxoid's mouth and held
>the squirming form up high. From what she had read and seen
>earlier of the new crew members, she had a good idea of who was
>doing this dropping.
Crow: Lt. Martin.
Mike: Who?
Crow: That guy who relieved himself earlier.
> "Let me guess, P'velt Dray?"
>A shadow now swooped down from the ceiling and with a claw
>snatched away the mouse from Ptzzrr's hand.
Mike: Give me that! Why I oughta
>Ptzzrr and
>Growlexxeroffi both looked up and laughed at the flying form now
>holding the squealing rodant. "Guilty as charged sir, but to the
>victor go the spoils!"
Mike: Spoiled mice. Gross.
Crow: Uuulllgh. Not again.
>Crewman Dray then did a roll and spread
>his wings to hover.
>Ens. Maximus stepped past the medical team to join them, his
>large grin a give-away of his reason for being here.
Tom: As you know by now, this is David Sutton code for "I'm not
going to tell you. Nyah, nyah, nyah."
>"Excuse me
>My Lady, but did you perchance
Mike: To dream.
> see a mouse go by here..."
>
>Ptzzrr's next opponet was one of the crew's Insectoids, this
>one possessing a full complement of eight legs and stinger.
Tom: Wrong, wrong, wrong! If it has eight legs it's an ARACTOID!
Mike: Whoa, there Tommy. Take it easy.
Tom: I am taking it easy. I'm just saying that if it's got EIGHT
LEGS then it's an ARACTOID!
> The
>Gorn soon realized that she had her hands, literally, full.
>"What does it take to make you let go?!"
Mike: Oh, about three beers.
>Zeenicce was showing the same frustration. "What does it
>take to make you drop?!" The Insectoid had repeatedly stung the
>Gorn, only to have her thick hide repulse the attack.
Crow: Like this fanfic repulses us.
>Zeenicce
>was now wrapped around Ptzzrr's back, using three sets of legs to
>keep the Gorn's arms pinned while the rest repeatedly bashed at
>her head looking for a weakness.
Mike: [whiny] I'll harm you!
> "It used enough enough poison
>to kill many others."
>Ptzzrr had grown tired of trying to get her arms free and now
>was repeatedly bashing Zeenicce against the bulkhead with full
>force. "I'm no other, >BLAM!<
Crow: Boff!
Tom:Socko!
Mike: Holy lame sound effects!
> I'm a woman you drone!"
>"Same difference my queen." commented Zeenicce. His solid
>exo-skeleton was protecting him from the blows, though a series
>of notable dents had appeared along the bulkhead. "Where
>>THRUM!< are your ears?"
Tom: They're >POW!< on >KRACK!< my >ONOMATOPOEIA!< head.
>"Ears?! On a Gorn?" they had attracted a considerable
>audience now. Their match was the only one from the fifth round
>still continuing.
>"Sometime today would be nice people." muttered Lt. Ireland,
>growing more impatient with the stalemate.
>The combatants chorused back.
All: [Greek recitative] Behold: this was Oedipus, greatest of
men.
>"With all due respect my
>Queen, >KERTHRAM!< SHUT UP!" that got a roar of approval from
>the crowd
Mike: And the crowd goes wild.
Bots: Yea.
> as the battle moved towards the changing areas.
>"Are you sure this is a >THUD!< good idea my Queen?"
>Zeenicce had ceased his attempts at locating Ptzzrr's ears and
>was now attacking her neck.
Tom: Whoa! This fanfic got spicy all of a sudden.
>His lack of success equalled
>Ptzzrr's.
>"Why, you have no sex,
Crow: Neither does David Sutton. That's why he writes bad Star
Trek fanfics.
Mike: Don't you think that's the least bit harsh?
> so there should be >BOOM!< no problem
>about which showers I enter." Yet another solid crash into the
>wall failed to dislodge the Insectoid.
Tom: [strained] It'sanARACTOID!
>the rooms current
>inhabitants quickly vacated to make room for these unstoppable
>forces.
>"It, no. However you do possess >THRUD!< gender. This room
>for male gender species only."
All: [suavely] I know!
>"It was the closest >KERTHUM!< of the three."
>"A wise choice my Queen. Are you considering >BLAMG!< a
>change in tactics then?
Crow: No, just a change in sex.
> Or are you overheating?" Zeenicce had
>accurately noted that the Gorn was slowing down.
>"You >THRAMP!< noticed?" The walls were now showing good
>signs of damage.
Tom: As opposed to *bad* signs of damage.
>The look this would cause on Mr. Golarg's face
>brought a quick smile to Ptzzrr's face. She switched
Crow: To decaf.
>on all the
>showers to full blast, allowing her to bathe in the cold streams
>of moisture. Ptzzrr smiled as her skin grew slick. "Brace
>yourself Zeenicce." She once again threw herslef at the wall,
Mike: And missed. She's really incompetent.
>yet this time she twisted to take the blow on her side. Zeenicce
>sliped off the Gorn's back, as he could no longer use his barbed
>legs to gain a grip on the newly slick skin.
>"Clever my Queen. But how will the Queen see this?"
>They both studied each other, wondering how Lt. Ireland would
>react to the mess. They mutually realized the futility of
>continuing this battle.
Tom: Or this scene.
>Ptzzrr extended out her hands to
>Zeenicce, who took them gladly. They rubbed heads in a gesture
>of friendship and agreement. "Right, we'll call it a draw..."
All: A draw.
>It was late in the day for them, and Gamma shift were
>enjoying a large feast to celebrate the day's events.
Tom: Namely, that the fight sequence was finally over.
>The dining
>hall was full, as almost everyone had found the time to be here.
>"I still find it hard to believe Ireland beat you
>Growlexxeroffi?"
Crow: I still find it hard to punctuate properly?
>Ens. Che had been listening to the stories
>being told.
>The Lynxoid bristled noticeably at the insult the Che had
>accidently used. "He bit my tail! Only BABIES bit tails!"
>Che attacked her sald with a furry.
Tom: Ah! Look out! It's a sald!
Mike: Don't worry, I've got my trusty furry!
> "It worked, didn't it?"
>Maximus howled in laughter! "Well by Apollo I just loved his
>expression when his Lordship saw who he was meeting in the
>finals! A classic moment in history!"
Crow: You should know, you skirt wearin' Roman fruit.
>Crewman Dray pecked at his seeds, as he was a confirmed
>vegatarian.
Mike: Recently, however, there had been several reports of
anonymous drive-by carrot eatings.
> "How was I to know he hates heights? I only picked
>him up and dangled him upside down over the floor."
>Lt. Sillenn gestured
Tom: Giving the bird the bird.
> with a tentacle high into the air, more
>for the local audience's benifit then for a need to stretch.
>"Fifty FEET above the floor Crewman?" she noted sarcastically.
>"Over a non-padded area..."
Crow: There are *so* many things I could say about that.
>added Lt. Martin.
>Dray ruffled his feathers in concern, he hadn't realized they
>were taking his actions against his commanding officer so
>seriously. "Have I caused offense here?"
All: YES!!
>Che and Maximus burst out laughing again. Growlexxeroffi
>flicked her ears up in surprise, then realized that poor Dray had
>no idea that they were pulling his tail.
Crow: Comma
> Or
Crow: Small "o."
> feathers as the
>case may be,
Crow: Period.
>she
Crow: Capital "S."
Mike: [grabbing Crow] We get the point.
>figured this misunderstanding should be
>cleared up. "We wouldn't have honoured you be having you join us
>if we were offended Dray." She purred as another Tribble met a
>gruesome fate. "This is our way of congratulating you!"
>"Well the good news is we have a new champion!"
Tom: [announcer] Winnah, and new world champeen
> announced
>Ptzzrr to a rousing cheer from Gamma Shift. "The bad news is
>that Lt. Ireland has seen fit to assign Gamma Shift more training
>exercises." A round of boos and other interesting noises made
>their rounds, but they were mostly good natured.
Mike: They were good natured death threats.
>Sillenn hovered up to get the crowds attention. "Don't worry
>though, we'll get through this just like everthing else those
>disgusting Day people throw at us."
Mike: Like bottles and grenades.
> A cheer responded, as Gamma
>shift took pride in its never ending rivalry with the other
>shifts.
>Sillenn let the noise die down before finishing. "Besides,
>he doesn't know what's in store for him tonight."
Crow: Neither do we. We're the audience, remember? Want to fill
us in?
> that got the
>laughter going, and Dray was now warmly welcomed on as a member
>of the Gamma Shift and the The U.S.S. Trafalgar. His new
>assignment and home.
Tom: His sentence without verb.
>Ens. Olda'winda flapped his wings in excitement, as he had
>missed out on all the fun of setting their surprise for the Human
>Lieutenant. "Why do I have a feeling
Crow: Whenever I climb the ropes in gym?
> that this has something
>to do with Lister's missing food supply?"
>Ptzzrr grinned that smile that terrified a thousand hearts.
>"Oh come now, Ireland won't find it all too Tribblesome..."
Crow: Kill him! Kill him!
>fin
>
>David Sutton
Mike: Killed in Vietnam.
Tom: [brightly] Really?
Mike: No.
[Exit theatre]
>=====================================CUT >HERE===================================
>--
>Joseph Young Tivoli Systems, Inc
>Systems Administrator 9442 Capital of Texas Highway North
>joseph.young@tivoli.com Arboretum Plaza One, Suite 500
>Phone:(512) 502-4720 Austin TX 78759 FAX: (512) >794-9929
[123456]
Tom: Boy, there sure were a lot of different races in that
fanfic.
Crow: Yeah, David must've included every race in the entire Star
Trek universe.
Mike: Actually, there are lots of aliens that weren't in that
fanfic.
Tom: Such as?
Mike: Oh, the Klingons, the Romulans, the Ferengi
Crow: They didn't have any of those shapeshifters from DS9.
Tom: Your right. And what about those aliens from the old series
that made that weird energy net.
Crow: No ewoks.
Mike: Nope. Or Istari.
Tom: I didn't see any goombas.
Crow: Or star-children.
Mike: So you see, there really weren't that many races in the
fanfic. Well, what do you think, sirs?
[Deep 13. Frank is sitting behind the computer. Dr. Forester is nowhere to be seen.]
Frank: Clay! Clay! Come here!
Forester: [walks in] What is it, Frank?
Frank: I was posting TAKE.OVER.FAST when I came upon this
newsgroup.
Forester: [looking at computer screen] Alt.sex.mad_scie [sits
down] Erotic experiments you can perform in your garage. Um,
Frank, why don't you go push the button. And why don't you take
a cold shower while you're at it.
Frank: Yessir.
\ | /
\ | /
---0---
/ | \
/ | \
fwshhhh
Forester: Frank, do we have any latex and acetic acid?
Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters, situations, merchandise, are copyright 1994 Best Brains, Inc. This MSTing is not authorized, endorsed, or supported by anyone. Not intended as an attack on anyone's beliefs. This article may be freely distributed as long as this notice remains intact.
MiSTied by Chris Mayfield (camfield@iastate.edu)
>Che attacked her sald with a furry.
The End.
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