Still-Store: Hail to the Queen by Rob Tounts, MiSTed by Matt Blackwell, Doug Earlham, Michael K. Neylon, Bill Livingston, Steven Savage.

MiSTed by: Matt Blackwell, Doug Earlham, Michael K. Neylon, Bill Livingston, Steven Savage.

Edited by: Matt Blackwell.

Created on: Friday, 27 March 1998.

Added on: Monday, 22 September 2008.

Rated 5.00 with standard deviation 0.00 on 0 evaluations.

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Mystery Science Usenet Theater 3000:
"Hail to the Queen" by Rob Tounts
Based on "The Marrissa Stories" by Stephen B. Ratliff

Misted by Matt Blackwell, Doug Earlham, Michael K. Neylon,
Bill Livingston, Steven Savage

[Note: This takes place just after Episode 822: "Overdrawn at
the Memory Bank"]

[Season 8 Opening.]

[The Bridge of the Satellite of Love is a mess. There are
streamers hung one the walls and balloons are scattered about
the Bridge. Confetti is everywhere. On the far wall is a banner

Mike: Oh, hi everyone. I'm Mike Nelson, and welcome to the
Satellite of Love. Pearl threw a party for us last night
after her successful beg-a-thon, and I'm afraid that
we're still not quite up to speed today. And I'm pretty
sure that Pearl doesn't have anything else to show us
for another few months, but you're welcome to hang around
if you'd like.
[Tom walks on screen, humming a tune.]

Tom: Hi Mike. Have you seen the coffee?

Mike: The hazelnut, the Brazilian, the Vanilla, or the
Mochachino strawberry surprise?

Tom: The motoroil flavored. [Tom walks offscreen.]

Mike: It's in the cupboard by the box of Yummy Mummy.

Tom: [Off screen] Found it!
[Appearing on screen again with a cup of coffee.]
Say, what's Cambot doing on?

Mike: He was on when I came in. Maybe we're doing another
special.

Tom: Another "Little Gold Statue" maybe?

Mike: [Shrugs] Could be.

[Crow walks onscreen. He's wearing an ascot, and a monocle and
he's smoking a cigarette through a long cigarette holder.]

Crow: [Speaking in a fake uppercrust English Accent.] Top of
the morning to you chaps. Smashing party last night. Why,
who would have ever thought that Pearl was such a
talented dancer? And those blasted Mole Men kept droning
on and on and on and on. . .

Mike: Crow, we're on.

Crow: I beg your pardon? Michael, whatever do you mean that
we're. . . [He turns to Cambot.] Yikes! [Normal voice]
Oh, hi everyone! Um, Breasts?

Crow: Knock it off Tom! I'm, uh, getting into character for my
one man play celebrating the life of Noel Coward.

Crow: That's it! You're going down Gumball boy!

Mike: Hold it guys. I think an explanation is here. [He hits
the light.] Hello?

[The Studio]
[The scene shifts to the studio where Pearl held her fund-
raiser. Pearl stands uneasily in the middle of the floor,
while Bobo ,The Observer, and Ortega stand in the background
looking very glum.]

Pearl: [Monotone] Good Morning fellow employee of Amalgamated
Diversified Compudyne Research, Entertainment and Pets.
And how are you today?

[SoL]

Mike: Pearl, are you okay?

[Studio]

Pearl: Of course, fellow employee. All is well here today. How
is productivity in your area?

[SoL]

Mike: We don't have any products, Pearl.

Tom: Well, I've been selling Magic cards over the Internet.
Does that count?

Mike: No, Tom. What's going on?

[Studio]

Pearl: [Normal voice] All right, I'll come clean. After Clayton
became a space baby, I sold Deep 13 to some investors to
earn money to find you. Well, they're still around, and
it turns out that they own the satellite, the studio,
and even the Widowmaker, lock, stock and barrel. And
they're not too pleased with our ratings.
[A middle aged man clad in a yellow and black checkered
sportscoat appears next to Pearl, flanked by what looks to be a
stagehand.]

Herb: Hello, Mr. Nelson. Love your work. It's really funny
stuff. However...

[SoL]

Mike: Hold it. What do you mean? This isn't a show! I'm
trapped up here on a satellite and they've been
torturing me by showing me bad movies! It's not a show!

[Studio]

Pearl: Actually Mike, Clayton put a video camera on board and
sold tapes of the experiments to his fellow scientists
when money ran low. Then Frank would squander the money
on duct tape. [mumbling] That little weasel. [normal
voice] So, there is a show.

Herb: Anyway, it's really funny stuff. But, we're having
problems with the show's demographics. You're not
pulling in the male 18-30 year olds. So, we're going to
have to replace one of you with a new character.

[SoL]
[All aboard are visibly nervous.]

Mike: Replace one of us? Who?

[Studio]

Herb: That purple one, Gypsum.

[SoL]
[Gypsy pushes past Mike]

Gypsy: What?!

[Studio]

Herb: [shrugging] The kids just don't understand her. Besides,
we need some sex appeal for the show, so we've arranged
for you to gain a new companion.

[SoL]

Gypsy: I'm not going anywhere! I run this satellite! Everyone
aboard will die without me being here! Besides, I've
got a contract! Where's my agent?!
[Curtis, the stagehand, appears from off screen.]

Curtis: Come on. Your contract's been picked up by "Jenny."

Gypsy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[Gypsy and Curtis disappear off stage.]

Crow: Well that sucks.

Tom: Hey, we won't work without Gypsy here! We can just wait
this out until she's back here. Well, Mike will die of
asphyxiation in a few hours, but we can wait forever!
[Mike visibly pales.]

[Studio]

Herb: Relax guys. The ship's functions will be taken over by
some good Unionized help. We'll have her replacement
there in a little while.

Pearl: By the way, to celebrate your new shipmate, we've got a
special piece of work for you today. It's a piece of
fan-fiction.

[SoL]

Mike: Stephen Ratliff didn't write this by any chance?

[Studio]

Pearl: No, no.

[SoL]

Crow: Thank goodness.

[Studio]

Pearl: It's called "Hail to the Queen" by Rob Tounts, and it's
actually a fan-fic of a popular series of fan-fiction
stories. [She grins evilly] The Marrissa Stories to be
precise. Enjoy, Michael.

[SoL]

Crow: Marrissa fan-fic fan-fic?

Tom: Oh look, that seventh seal is being broken.
[The lights begin to flash.]

Mike: Too late guys. We've got Marrissa sign!

[The bots race around while Mike hits the lights. The door
sequence begins.]

[6. . . 5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1. . . ]

Tom: Well, my respect for that country just went down the
drain.

Crow: First "Kids in the Hall," now this.

Crow: ...not to mention sleet, lightning, sheets of flame from
a clear sky...

All: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Tom: Midnight, the witching hour! BOO-WAH-HAH-HAH-HAHAHAHAHA!!!

Crow: In Mime 1.0, the mime will still occasionally speak.

Tom: They'll fix that feature in 2.0.

>Reply-To: rtonts@direct.ca
>Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="------------
5A807124EEAB09BA89D59BC5"

Mike: BC5? Isn't that that sci-fi show by that guy who used to
write for "The Real Ghostbusters?"

Tom: [Jack Nicholson] I have given a name to my pain...and it
is a.s.c.

>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; x-mac-
>type="54455854"; x-mac->creator="4D4F5353"
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
>
>

> Star Trek

Mike: Where our motto is "We'll keep this series on the air
until Rick Berman runs it into the ground!"

Tom: The Queen Latifah Story!

Mike: The Freddie Mercury Story!

Crow: The Majel Barrett Story!

Crow: I bet she can't sing "Fat Bottom Girls" as good as
Freddie.

Tom: Didn't the header say that his name was Ron?

Mike: Tom, he knows what his own name is. I hope.

Mike: Gene Roddenberry should not take the blame for this.

Mike: I take it Rob has never seen the episode "Disaster".

Tom: Well, okay, my dog chewed Marrissa's head off. Is that a
problem?

> Any mental or
>physical damage sustained from reading, holding, or
>downloading this story, is your own stupid fault.
>

Crow: I hear that was going to be the new disclaimer on the
McDonald's coffee cups, only with "coffee" instead of
"story".

Tom: Have been changed to protect the galaxy.

> are either a product of the author's
>imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
>actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
>entirely coincidental. Although if there was, I would panic.
>

Crow: You and me both, pal.

Crow: Er, does he know he used a capital 'F'?

Tom: Maybe it IS the Freddie Mercury story!

Mike: Uh...oh. Should we be riffing on a story by a made guy?

Tom: Shouldn't Satan be on that list too?

> This story is set shortly after the Marrissa story
>Return to Glory. I'm afraid it isn't out yet, but should be
>one day.

[All scream]

Mike: Oh, what I wouldn't give for a good cancel-bot about
now....

Crow: Actually, it takes a little bit of chutzpah to write a
sequel to a story that hasn't happened yet

Tom: Especially a Marrissa story! [shudders]

Tom: If this is a self-insertion fic too. . .

> Comments and Questions
>are welcome.
>Please send them to rtonts@direct.ca . In addition, for
>those people over at rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc,

Mike: Huh? Who's he talking about?

Crow: Oh, probably a group of unclean, unshaven college
students hovering about a computer in the basement of
some dorm somewhere.

Tom: Well, now you know.

Mike: And knowing is half the battle!

Crow: Poor, innocent *us*? Nooo....

Mike: What's MiST? That prequel to Riven?

Tom: We'll tell you later.

Crow: [Falsetto] Eat! Eat! How're you boys gonna keep up your
strength if you don't eat?!?

Tom: It was a time of war, it was a time of peace...

Tom: Riker has been placed in command of the next half-dozen
sequels, Data has been possessed by the katra of John
Adams, and Lily has escaped to HBO and collected several
CableACE awards.

Mike: Nice to know *someone* besides Larry Sanders is!

Crow: Bitter much, Mike?

Mike: Oh, just a tad.

Crow: Somewhere, one of the Borg had assimilated the complete
works of Pauly Shore.

Mike: There would be no more Bohemian Rhapsody any more.

Crow: Okay, enough Queen riffs. Agreed?

Tom: Well, I guess. But I had a great riff using "Another One
Bites the Dust" planned.

Mike: I'm sensing a strong "across the galaxy" motif here."

Mike: There's an implant sale at Bloomingdales!

Mike: [pointing to his left] First the Tholians repelled them
to that point...
[pointing to his right] then the Ferengi repelled them to
that point...
[pointing straight ahead, at the Borg] and now the Humans
have repelled them to *this* point. Any questions?

Crow: Just forget the sacrifice of Vulcans, Betazoids, and
other members of the Federation.

Tom: Oh, yeah, those Humans are sooooo great . . . oh, sorry
Mike.

Mike: Don't worry about it.

Tom: Wearing a black veil and spraying in a lot of smoke first,
I'd guess.

Crow: There were forms to fill out, and the Borg HR department
had budget cutbacks.

Tom: They would have to go to Queens.

Crow: Isn't that Microsoft's job?

Tom: Geez, that's the Borg's answer to everything!

Mike: Well, you have to admit it did work up to now.

> Using
>the all encompassing knowledge of the race, the Collective
>searched through records regarding races from Earth, the
>Delta Quadrant, and anywhere in between.

Crow: Results: "assimilation," 41511 hits; "Federation," 613351
hits; "Marina Sirtis+nude OR naked," 31515782 hits.

Mike: And 45 minutes of that was just trying to connect onto
"Borg On-Line."

Tom: But before that, the Borg would be forced to endure ten
months of campaigning.

Tom: Anyone else getting a cold, queasy lump right in the
middle of your stomach?

Tom: Yeah, FULLY-functional Borg cubes, if you know what I
mean!

Mike: Tom is there NOTHING you can't make sound dirty?

Tom: Only 672 things.

Mike: I'd say you're being anal but you'd probably make that
sound dirty too.

Mike: Call me Ishmael Amber Flores Picard. . .

Crow: Not the most exciting sequel ever made, since everyone
died at the end of "Glory," but the studio insisted.

Mike: So they had their brights on, and they accidentally
blinded the planet of Argus V.

> They
>were escorting a convoy of twenty Romulan Warbirds through
>Federation space to the point where they could go it alone.

All: o/~ We've got a great big convoy, traveling through
the night... o/~

Mike: Hey, wait a minute! This is the plot for 'Battlestar
Galactica!'

Tom: Great, now we remember Battlestar Galactica! We could have
used those riffs in 'Space Mutiny!'

Mike: It took them 5 tries to get it, but, mind you, it was
top-of-the-line!

Tom: Web page design?

Crow: Slugging averages?

Tom: Singing the blues?

Crow: Since the latter only lasted about five minutes when it
was around, no one was truly sure.

Crow: They were filled with steroids.

Tom: I have this horrible, horrible feeling that any second
now, Richard Simmons and Kathie Lee Gifford are going to
show up.

Mike: The Enterprise has a SOUNDTRACK? Of the Ocean?

Tom: After all these years, that Celine Dion song is *still*
on top of the charts?!

All: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tom: The entire ship is coated in silky blankets?

Crow: Maybe there won't be the usual level of Marrissa-
intensive violence.

Tom: SAILOR MOON, NO!

Crow: But enough about Hanson...

> pierced the simulated night of the Quarters.
>Admiral Marrissa Amber Flores Picard of the Starship
>Enterprise-F,

Tom: ...Once and Future King...

Crow: Keeper of the Sacred Rings of Betazed...

Mike: ...holder of the sacred chalice of Riix...

Mike: CEO of General Motors...

Crow: Queen of the Silver Dollar...

Tom: Owner of the largest ball of twine in Minnesota...

Mike: I'll say this, Tonts knows his source material.

Mike: Stephen Ratliff?

Tom: No, Mike, even Ratliff cannot control the force that *is*
Marrissa anymore.

Tom: First name after Fergie, middle name after the elf NPC
Stephen had a crush on in his junior high D&D campaign.

Crow: I notice the kid doesn't get Jay's last name.

Mike: Are you really surprised?

Tom: Specifically, it emitted a high-pitched "WHAAAAAAAH!!"
noise.

Mike: "Malcontent?" So she's unhappy with the Federation
government?

Crow: Don't forget, Lwaxanna Troi's running it now.

Mike: Uh, oh.. I don't like the way this is going...

Crow: Like her husband Jay.

All: ARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGH!!! [All make retching noises]

Tom: This is the *LAST* thing I needed to see!

Mike: I think I'm going to be sick!!

Crow: Should I go get the milk of magnesium ?

Tom: AARRRRGGGGH!!!!

> just as a computer began to
>signal an incoming message. With a sigh, Marrissa made her
>way to the terminal holding the child,

Crow: The terminal is holding the child, and Marrissa is
nursing it but she has to walk over to it? Either that
kid has long lips, or...

Mike: For the love of Pete, stop right there.

Mike: If she left the video on, someone's gonna get a surprise.

Crow: Let's hope that's not Cal on the screen, else, calcium.

Tom & Mike: ARRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!

Mike: [Picard] I regret to report--YAUUGH!! Marrissa, for God's
sake, cover yourself!

Crow: I mean, it's not like I'm milking this for all it's
worth...
[Tom is visibly shivering on his seat]

Mike: Crow, that's enough for now...

Crow: Suddenly, a bare chested Riker pops up besides Picard,
with "Soy Bomb" painted on his pallid, doughy torso,
and begins gyrating suggestively.

Mike: Well, thanks for permanently putting me off my feed,
Crow.

Crow: Any time, Mike.

Mike: Since there aren't any other known murderous simple
geometric shapes.

Crow: Plus they spray painted "Borg Roolz!" on the colony
walls.

Tom: [Picard] Your assignment: evacuate the Picard family wine
cellar.

Crow: No ship, no space suit, no nothin' - just Jean-Luc and a
slingshot.

Mike: [Picard] I have just been handed a correction. I will
lead the assault with the aid of a starship and fifteen
hundred crewmen.

Tom: So, Harry Kim sent the message?

Crow: [Marrissa] I guess it's up to little ol' me to save the
day again...

> Her fleet
>was capable of taking on even the strongest renegade Romulan
>attacks. But such an attack seemed like less of a worry.
>After the Romulan attack on the Sol System, and the conquering
>of the Romulan Empire,

Tom: ... Life just didn't seem to be interesting, so she took
her own.

Mike: Too bad the Romulans didn't have access to "Voyager
Shuttlecraft" technology.

Crow: Yeah, then they'd be up to their prominent eyebrows in
warbirds!

> Having the Warbirds allowed as home defence, resulted
>in tight registration and tracking procedures, which cut off
>renegade Romulan resources.

Crow: So there's a five-day waiting period before buying a
warbird now?

Mike: Remember, when warbirds are outlawed, only outlaws will
have warbirds!

Tom: [Charlton Heston] Join the National Warbird Association
today.

Tom: So Marrissa's running an escort service now?

Mike: You know, your head just twists right off, Tom.

Tom: Okay, okay, it was just a joke! Sheesh!

> As a result, about five of her ships, including the
>Enterprise could make the battle. She got on the comm and
>called the Captain of the Elizabeth,

Crow: Well, someone's literal-minded. I suppose the other one
is the "Mary" or the "Victoria" or something?

Tom: Just once I'd like to see a ship named after Mad King
Ludwig.

Crow: [Marrissa] From now on we are to be known as the
"Dil-rats." What the--?!

Crow: It was named after some clod who manned a space station
and watched movies.

Tom: Yeah, but then the USS Perot entered the race...

All: [snort in amused disbelief]

Mike: [Link Hogthrob] First Mate Piggy, what do the sensors
say, hmmm?

Tom: [Miss Piggy] Hm? Oh, I'm sorry, I was just admiring my
reflection in these readouts. What did you say?

Crow: [Julius Strangepork] I'm detecting an inappropriate
reference to port,Captain.

Tom: Where they continued to *monitor* the situation!

> The Defiant class had been mass
>produced as of late, and it didn't need to worry about lack
>of comfort for personnel.

Mike: Yep, it's war, but at least we've got our Playstations.

Mike: All their tuna is brain-cell safe

Tom: So, it's an information based corporation then?

> located on Omicron Theta. After being
>promoted from First Officer of the Enterprise- E, Data
>commanded the USS Andromeda on several exploration missions in
>the remainder of the Alpha Quadrant.

Mike: ...what was left of it after Berman got through, anyway.

Crow: All of which he'd invented himself.

Tom: SoongCorp, when you need a new species overnight.

Mike: Looks like the same guy names their departments that
names their starships.

Tom: [George Takei] This is Lieutenant Sulu, of the Driving the
Ship department.

Crow: [James Doohan] I'm Commander Scott, of the Fixing Stuff
department.

Mike: [Marina Sirtis] Counselor Troi, of the Showing Cleavage
department.

Tom: He longed to reprise his role on Night Court and asked to
be killed in the next movie.

Crow: Including an as-yet-unexplained obsession with Angora.

Crow: Data's going to spawn?

Tom: I certainly hope not! We've already seen the spawn of
Marrissa, and that's all *I* need to see today!

Tom: Another brother, Hearsay. Or so I'm told, anyway.

Crow: The original CFV for alt.fan.pale.androids.

Mike: ...he finally got around to mowing the lawn.

Tom: [Picard] I agree you should be free to pursue your dreams,
Data, but is "Second star to the left and straight on 'til
morning" really practical?

> This path was one his father had wished, and yet
>still followed his Prime Directive, to aid and make life
>better for sentinent life forms.

Mike: Yet all his attempts on Marrissa's life had failed.

> Using himself, his brother
>Lore, and his failed experiments with Lal as prototypes, Data
>built replicas of the neural net that was used as a brain.

Mike: So a third of the technology is based on an unsuccessful
model, while another third is based on a murderously
psychopathic model?

Tom: If I didn't know better, I'd think Data was suffering
aftereffects of Ratliff Gas exposure.

Tom: I seem to remember them rejecting the idea of a whole race
of Datas on the grounds that robots shouldn't be slaves.

Crow: Something I heartily agree with, by the way...*Mike*.

Mike: Well, invent a self-cleaning load pan bay and we'll talk.

Tom: Which gave a whole new sense of adventure to the use of
prophylactic devices.

Tom: Boy, this mall's got everything.

Mike: Now, who would be stupid enough to put a robot in charge
of a ship?
[pause]

Tom: No slamming old sleepy eyes, Mike.

Crow: She's gone! And we'll never see her again!
WAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Mike: There, there. I'm sure that we'll see her everytime
"Jenny" comes on.

Tom: So, we might see her two or three times again?

Mike: Prunes, for example.

Mike: And semi-active in the hearts of its countrymen.

Tom: If they wanted people without emotions and ambitions, they
should have just hired someone from a temp agency.

Mike: Keep it up and you'll never see a RAM chip again.

> In addition, each Defiant had a senior staff of
>members of the Humanoid races, since this bond between
>Organics and Machines increased efficiency.

Crow: [snort] For the Organics, maybe.

Tom: Ha! The Federation'll show those Borg - they'll assimilate
themselves first!

Mike: WE DON'T CARE. SHUT UP! SHUT UP!

Tom: Has anyone even *thought* of going back to Mudd's Planet
and seeing what makes *those* androids tick?

Mike: They can't risk unleashing the Stellas on the galaxy.

Crow: [Stella Mudd] You lazy good for nothing-

Mike & Tom: SHUT UP!!

Crow: [fading] thing- thing- thing-

Tom: Bored to sleep by the backstory.

> Marrissa put Sarah back
>in the crib. Being unable to sleep, Marrissa went to the
>computer and called up a history of all the Borg battles
>fought.

Mike: Search - FLEET BORG BUTTS WHUPPED.

Crow: [as Marrissa] Gee, no wonder we always lost! These
Captains never had a 21 minute Kobiyasi Maru time!

Tom: Well, if you can call playing "Borg" deep planning.

Crow: Through clouds of hydrogen?

Tom: Sacrificing virgins, performing dark rituals, the usual.

> The following morning, the Earth Defence fleet had gathered
>into position in the middle of the Borg Cube's path.

Mike: Why not? Let's make it easy on the Borg!

> Fleet
>Admiral Jean-Luc Picard sat in the command chair of the
>Sovereign class vessel, USS James T Kirk.

[Quickfire...]

Tom: With separable "Toupee" section!

Crow: And extra "below deck" capacity!

Mike: Plays "Rocket Man" 24 hours a day!

Tom: But, wait! There's more!

Crow: It comes with the fantastic "Stutter" warp drive!

Mike: The entire TekWar library at your fingertips!

Tom: Now how much will you pay!?

Mike: Help think what?

Crow: I guess he's no longer a casual thinker, he's addicted.

Tom: Is this the same indomitable willpower that wimps out at
any application of the Prime Directive?

> consisting
>of some of the more advanced starships of the time. Composed
>of Five Sovereign class Battleships, seven Ambassador class
>Cruisers, a Galaxy class ship,

Mike: Ooooh...I bet the Borg are just quaking in their cubicles
over that one.

Crow: Insert standard "exploding star" joke here.

Tom: Insert standard "it doesn't go" joke here.

Mike: Insert standard anti-Chevy joke here.

Mike: Sorry, sorry. [clutches head] I'm turning into my Ford-
drivin' friends from high school.

Tom: Why would the Federation build something to destroy their
own ships?
[Mike whispers in his dome]
Tom: Oh. Never mind.

Crow: This is the trekkie equivalent of guys who love to
discuss gun types and bullet sizes, isn't it?

Crow: [Picard] Open fire! No, wait...it's just Shatner's ego.

Mike: Now would this be the likable if morose Death of Terry
Pratchett?

Tom: How about the petite, attractive Death of Neil Gaiman's
Sandman?

Crow: Guys, it's the grim spectre of death of mediocre
writing, get over it.

> The Borg opened the battle, not with cutting lasers or
>tractor beams, not even the customary "Resistance is Futile"
>speech, but instead scanning each of the fleet ships. The
>vessel moved against the two targets first, the Kirk, and the
>Nova class Enterprise.

Crow: Having detected a major character on at least one.

Tom: Just trust us on this one.

Crow: Well, he's got the gist of the Ratliffian battle scenes
at least.

Mike: The Federation fighter program's motto: "If one really
big phaser blast won't get through their shields, maybe a
bunch of tiny ones will do something."

Crow: Essex class. Named after a backwards quasi-medieval
planet. Wonderful.

Mike: Quick! Fire your crossbows at the Borg and ready your
mace launchers!

> Swarming around the cube, the fighters fired phasers and
>mini-torpedoes. The results of the efforts were small pocks
>and scars across the hull.

Mike: Sounds like a bad case of acne.

Mike: USS Newt Gingrich, fire!

Tom: USS Strom Thurmond, this is USS Ted Kennedy, I'm sinking
fast!

Crow: Oh no! USS Dick Armey & USS Dick Gephardt have started
firing on each other!

Tom: [Nomad] I am the creator. The Borg are imperfect. They
must be sterilized.

Tom: It may be better to target a ship.

> The Federation ships
>lanced out with phasers and Quantum torpedoes, while fighters
>from the Enterprise ran interference. Despite the severe
>beating the cube took, it only attacked the Kirk and the
>Enterprise, soon just ignoring the Kirk.

Mike: Just like the Grammys. When will the Transformed Man get
the respect that it deserves?

Tom: I'm sure that the rest of the Federation wishes they could
ignore Kirk.

Crow: [Shatner] Look, I'm dead again! Now I'm alive again! Now
I'm dead again! Huzzah!

Crow: Hey, is this an actual battle scene?

Tom: Well, it can't be a Ratliff story, then.

Mike: It's *not* a Ratliff story - it's just an incredible
simulation.

> The Borg began beaming into locations throughout the
>Enterprise; Engineering, the fighter bay, and the Bridge.
>Five Borg appeared on the Bridge.

Crow: They've assimilated the Jacksons!

Mike: Well, at least Michael's skin won't get any paler.

Mike: Ah, our fearless captain shows her true colors!

Mike: It's where she stores her used Juicy Fruit for safe
keeping.

Crow: [Marrissa] Ooh! A quarter! Now I can pay the security
staff this week!

Tom: If relying on your captain to duck and reach under her
hemorrhoid ring is a security plan, I'm not impressed.

Tom: Oh! It must be her life vest!

Crow: [Marrissa] Woman and children first! And since I'm both
of those, CLEAR THE WAY!

Mike: I see that Marrissa has been preparing 'just in case'
someone disobeys her.

Crow: Leaving the first four that Marrissa ignored, of course.

Crow: Which, of course, could also be used as a floatation
device...

Tom: Commas such as this one, were scattered randomly through
the sentences.

Mike: So... there were random cushions placed about the bridge?

Crow: Apparently so, Mike. But most of the Bridge crew had
filled the compartments underneath with liquor.

> Another wave of the drones appeared on the bridge.

[Mike enthusiastically waves at the screen.]

>Keeping with the training on fighting the Borg everyone
>received, they believed the phasers were useless.

Mike: And if they aren't, that training stank.

Crow: I know Bertie Wooster isn't very bright, but isn't that a
little harsh?

Tom: Looks like the Borg forgot that solid matter setting
again.

Tom: But there was no joy in Muddville that day ... the mighty
Marrissa had struck out.

Mike: Fortunately, the Borg had video taped the entire thing.

Tom: Unfortunately, Marrissa's trial took place in Simi Valley,
Essex.

Crow: "Can't we all just get along?" the Borg drone later
asked.

Tom: [singing] Stumblin' in...

> and on instinct she
>turned and fired the phaser into the cybernetic zombie.
>None of the expected defence shields popped up to intercept
>the angry red beam of energy, and the victim was vaporised in
>a flare.

Tom: [Borg drone] Strategy is irrelevant.

Crow: Looks like common sense is irrelevant too.

Tom: [monotonous] Oh, look, we're in the middle of a battle.

Mike: [snorts] They're shooting out the windows at the Borg
ships? I think this is a new low...

Tom: [as Shatner] Must get...to...executive...producer!

Crow: The Borg collective is not in right now. If you leave
your name and number, we will assimilate you at your
convenience.

Crow: [Picard] It all hinges on tapioca. I have no idea why.

> The massive cube grabbed hold of the Enterprise,
>and was about to begin the assimilation. The plans were
>terminated when the cube burst into a ball of fire and
>debris.

Crow: Oops. The Borg must have assimilated Ted Kazinsky.

Crow: Not to mention.

Tom: Random sentence fragments.

Crow: Unfortunately, they were stopped by the cheerful yellow
shields, and everyone was slaughtered by the melancholy
gray drones.

Mike: *Angry* phaser beams?

Tom: Sure, Mike! And happy phaser beams are the ones that will
give you a back rub and a soothing foot massage before
they vaporize you.

> The Borg had lost the battle, but at the same
>time, had come closer to winning the war. The cube had
>accomplished its job, diverting the Federation from the
>neutral zone long enough for the six vessels to sneak into
>Romulan territory.

Mike: Since we all know that the Romulans never watch their
borders, after all.

Crow: Too bad there's no sort of *sensor* that could detect
ships...some sort of *sensor* would come in handy
here, huh?

Crow: So what, exactly, is a "Preador"?

Tom: I think it's one of those other guys in a bullfight -
y'know, matador, preador, stevedore.

Mike: [Stovin] Oh no! I'm a male Romulan in a Kids Crew story!
I'm dooooooomed!

Tom: Canadian author.

> After the Federation had taken over, they
>had allowed a number of Warbirds to be kept as a Defence
>fleet. This way they could defend Romulus without diverting
>any Federation craft. No one could have predicted how soon
>they would be needed to fill that role.

Tom: Yeah, the role of "target."

Crow: They've got discontinued Beanie babies on those warbirds!
Get them!

> the Borg tractor
>beams swung out grabbing Warbirds.
> Instead of slicing them into a ring of debris, the Borg
>pulled the ships onto their surface. The whole Warbird armada
>was stuck to the cubes like flies to flypaper.

Crow: What's with all the insect references?

Mike: [giggling] If I could, I'd just squash this fanfic flat.

Tom: [giggling as well] I'm just bugged out by the whole thing.

Crow: Ha-ha, very funny.

Tom: [as Borg] You will like Kenny G. Resistance is futile!

>Yet, the only other notice that the Borg took of the planet,
>was launching an Electromagnetic pulse at the surface, sending
>all the electronic equipment off line.

Mike: And with all the electronic equipment knocked out, the
entire Romulan Empire was left without access to reruns
of CBS's Friday night Block Party.

Crow: Wow. The action.

Crow: Soooo, this is Snow Marrissa and the Seven Borg Cubes?

> Their business with Romulus complete, the
>seven ships used their newly acquired technology to cloak and
>move off towards the Federation Border.

Mike: Er, haven't the Borg assimilated all sorts of stuff
anyway? I mean, you think they'd have a Cloak.

Crow: Maybe they needed to assimilate the "ON" switch.

Tom: Y'know, if they'd just thought to bring two more ships,
they could merge into one real big cube.

All: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO!

Mike: Much like--oh, you know the rest.

Mike: Well, that does describe dull and uneventful rather well.

> The Romulan ships moved away from the
>fleet, heading into their territory. The Romulan Empire had
>been stripped of it's war machine without causing any odd
>behaviour in the Federation.

Mike: What exactly IS odd behavior for the Federation?

Tom: When they act rationally.

Crow: Somewhere, a nightingale sang. A frog is dissected.
Pinkerton does not return.

> In the evening, in the lounge room of the
>Enterprise, Jay Gordon stumbled towards the bar, dark bags
>under his eyes.

Mike: Well, sleepin' with Marrissa'll do that to a guy.

Crow: If he looks like that, he should LEAVE the bar.

Crow: 50% caffeine? Why not just ask for a bag of crack and
some crystal meth and be done with it?

Tom: Unfortunately he forgot to specify "hot" so it'll come
out all lukewarm and stuff.

Mike: A song in his heart and a knife in his pocket.

Tom: [Jay] Ask me that again and I'll kill you, doe-eyes.

All: [screaming] WAAH!

Tom: Marrissa would probably stop a war, *just* so she could
feed her child!

Crow: And she cried so hard that Sarah woke up. Sarah went
right out again, but I was up all night trying to put
Marrissa down again.

Crow: [Jay] That's when I realized I can't nurse.

Mike: It? Jay refers to his daughter as it?

Tom: I detect a Dark Marrissa moment coming on. . .

Crow: Ahhhh, nothing like breastfast in bed, eh guys?

Mike & Tom: [groaning and moaning] ARGGHH!

> "Sounds like the only thing different from
>Marrissa's lifestyle, is that the baby's on the outside now,
>hmmm?" Martin inquired, with the smile spreading wider.

Crow: You know any moment the top of his head is going to fall
off.

> " I guess."
> "By the way, I've been giving some thought to that song
>we've been practising. Maybe there's something wrong with the
>lyrics or chords.

Tom: So, basically the entire song's messed up then?

Mike: ...a dog named Free.

Mike: Can you see the light?!

Tom: THE BAND! THE BAND!

Crow: Jay has a band?

Tom: I'm detecting major wish-fulfillment here. Mike.

Mike: [Weeping Silently]

Crow: [Marrissa] Sarah, this is what Earth looks like on the
Holodeck. You can't see it because there aren't any
windows. Okay, here's what Vulcan looks like on the
Holodeck...

> "Oh, how about this upcoming weekend?"
> "Sorry, diplomatic function. We're meeting with a
>Garidian ambassador. He requested the presence of the
>'Admiral who conquered the Romulans'. I was going to
>be exempt, but Marrissa said he wanted the family."

Crow: [Martin] Jay, uh...you do know that Garidians like the
taste of humans?

Tom: [Jay] Who cares? What about the music!? Can we get a gig
at the function?

> "Look," Martin's voice dropped to a whisper, and his
>face lost the smile. "I didn't want to tell you this, but
>you have to stand up for yourself in front of Marrissa."

Crow: Y'know, I like Martin!

Tom: Too bad his sacrilege has doomed him to die Real Soon Now.

Mike: [Standing] Yes! We have something approaching reality!

Crow: [To Tom] That brought him back!

Mike: Replaced by fear and terror.

Crow: Ooooh, please tell me they're planning a coup! Oh please
oh please oh please!

Mike: Well, so do we.

> and she's used to you waiting
>on her whim because of the pregnancy. You've got to break out
>of the routine. My guess is that for every time she's woke up
>to feed the kid, you've woke up twice as many times, if not
>more.

Mike: Now all Martin has to do is get rid of Marrissa's
deathgrip on the Federation and bring back the millions
she's slaughtered and it'll all be okay!

Mike: Yeah, a few bars of some dear old favorites, like "Smells
Like Teen Spirit" and "Jeremy", and she's out like a
light.

Tom: [Martin Lawrence] WAZUUUUUUUUP?!?!!???

Mike: Yes, using a very, very, very, very, broad definition
of "lately"!

Tom: That's quite an understatement there, Martin.

> "What should I do?" Jay replied, a little embarrassed
>" I'd like to have some control over the relationship, I mean,
>even last night she was telling me what to do during ..."

Tom: Geez, Rob, are you *trying* to blind us?!?!

Mike: Not a word, Crow.

Mike: Oh wow. That was fun. I can see why Marrissa likes doing
that. Let me try some more. Sit up straight! Clean the
room before I get home! Fix me Dinner!

Mike: Turn off that stupid holodeck! Watch the kid while I go
out with Clara!

Mike: Stop practicing your stupid guitar! And when are you
going to get a real job instead of that stupid temp job?

Tom: [To Crow] We need to up his dosage again.

Crow: [To Tom] Agreed.

Tom: Neither did we!!!

Mike: This story is just probing the dark steamy underside of
the Marrissa universe that we never wanted to see!

Crow: We'll probably learn about Marrissa's hot flashes
next....

Tom: And this is the ship's *counselor*?!?

Mike: Yeah, and the ship's doctor doesn't like to do invasive
surgery, it's too icky.

> Anyway, what I think you should do, is go back to your
>quarters, ask Marrissa to feed the kid, then have a heart to
>heart. Sound like a plan?"

Mike: [Martin] When I snap my fingers, you will wake up and
have a backbone. Three...two...[snap]

Crow: [Jay] YES! I WILL THINK FOR MYSELF! What next, Martin?

> With that, Martin got up and left, while Jay finished
>his coffee. That's what I'm gonna do, kept running full tilt
>through his brain. Maybe those tabloid reporters were right,

Tom: [As Jay] Maybe Marrissa WAS Bigfoot...

Mike: Again, that's quite an understatement.

Crow: Keep this up, and the Marrissa line is going to be
retiring before they're 8.

Tom: Theirs Was A Love That Spanned The Stars, But Society Said

They Were Too Young. Read "Jay And Marrissa: Thank You,
Ma'am, May I Have Another?" in "Dark Mansion of Forbidden
Love" from DC Comics.

Mike: [Jay] No, wait, that's not love. Ewww...

Crow: It's the Loooooooove Boat, the Next Generation!

Tom: [Jay] 1800 hours: Have dinner. 1900 hours: Argue with

Marrissa. 1930: Make love to Marrissa. 2000 hours: Fall
asleep.

Mike: Jay's finally sorted out the difference between love
and lust and fear.

Crow: Where's that donkey when you need him?!

> and Jay marched back to his quarters. His head was held
>high, both from the courage he gained, and from the caffeine
>entering his system. The doors slid open to reveal Marrissa
>once again nursing the child

All: [scream again] WAAAH!

Mike: [panting] Come on, guys, we can do this! It's not like
we've never seen this before...

Tom: Actually, Mike, this is our first time.

Mike: Oh. Then prepare for EXTREME PAIN!

Mike: Fortunately, Jay was used to this.

Mike: What? Like it was *his* turn to feed Sarah?!

> I need my beauty sleep." Said Marrissa. Jay couldn't
>help but remember a joke involving an old childhood story
>about Rip Van Winkle.

Tom: Sooooo, apparently, if Marrissa sleeps too long, she
becomes a 70 year old man with a long white beard?

Crow: Hey, Jay! Get the sleeping gas now while you have time!

Crow: If Jay strangled her right now, there's not a jury in the
galaxy that would convict him.

Crow: That sound you just heard? Everything good & decent in
the universe dying.

Tom: Yep - joy, laughter, kindness, warmth - all gone!

Mike: Man, I *hate* when that happens.

> That was true enough, Jay decided. He should have
>stayed home to get the coffee, but he needed a social
>atmosphere.

Tom: Like an empty bar?

> Too late to worry about it now, though. Jay was
>>about to launch into the speech he concocted, when the call
>came through. "Attention all hands. Shift change.

Crow: go from lowercase to ALL CAPS. THAT IS ALL...

Crow: [sleepily] Time to make the donuts. Time to make the
donuts.

Mike: Jay, return your manhood to it's previous position.

> "We'll talk later, Jay." warned Marrissa. The ice in
>her voice made Jay wonder if he could apply for a transfer.

Mike: [Jay] "Power Rangers", "Space Cases", "Saved by the Bell"
- there's *got* to be another series I can sneak into!

Crow: You know, this really is a shocking and unsettling turn.

Tom: I know. I appreciated it when Jay was so P-whipped you
could use him as a harem guard.

> They prepared for another day on the job, and made their
>way to the Bridge. All the way, Jay felt as if Marrissa had
>the pull of a planet's gravity,

Mike: Which would have promptly caused the Enterprise to
implode, and ended this little fanfic.

Tom: Unfortunately, for us, this was not the case.

Mike: She's a P-12. Call the Psi-Corp!

Crow: Wrong show Mike. Unfortunately.

Tom: Could you imagine Marrissa on Babylon 5?

Crow: Only in an airlock.

Crow: Let's hope that doesn't include Sarah's diaper duty.

Crow: MAKEUP! Could we have some more pancake on Marrissa?
We're still getting a terrible glare off her.

Mike: Yep, the marriage has NO effect on the efficiency of the
command structure whatsoever.

Mike: [as Helmsman] Oh, wait, sorry, just a sensor blurp.
Something didn't happen.

Tom: [as Jay] Oh, damn!

> The feeling dropped
>when he saw what it was. A decloaking vessel, too big to be a
>Romulan, appeared in front of them.
> "Shields," Marrissa barked.

[All do dog barking noises]

> "Weapons to full power, all
>fighters stand by to launch."

Mike: Where they'll just go "plink plink plink" against the
inside of the shields. Want to rethink that order,
Marrissa?

> The bridge crew stood in shock as the ship became fully
visible, it was a Borg Cube. The crew came to its senses and

Crow: Threw Marrissa overboard & joined the Borg of their own
free will.

Tom: The two parts of that last sentence do NOT make sense.

Tom: [as Borg] This has been a test of the Emergency Borg
Systems. In case of an actual Borg attack...

Tom: [Borg] Stand by for an important announcement concerning
your life insurance.

Mike: [Borg] Wolf 359 veterans cannot be turned down for this
offer.

>lower your shields and surrender your vessels. We will
>acquire the future queen of the Borg. We shall then
>assimilate the remaining individuals.

Crow: We will then download the "Salvage Starship" objective
and assimilate your ship. Do not attempt to make your
Enterprise-E staffing icon backwards-
compatible. Downloading "Sense the Borg" is futile.

Mike: Second verse, same as the first.

Tom: [Borg] We will telegraph our plans. We will make
ourselves vulnerable. We will display the originality of
"Family Matters."

Tom: Why do the ultra-adaptable Borg never learn that no one
ever believes that resistance is futile?

Mike: Or that you don't mess with Marrissa?

Mike: Man, the action doesn't let up. Of course it never
really begins either.

>Marrissa took a lucky guess and managed to destroy the cube
>formerly made out of Warbirds, by breaching their warp core.

Mike: Oh, like that one little weak spot in "Generations."
Toughest ships in the galaxy, but one little tap and
BOOM!

Tom: Hey, the djinn in the "Arabian Nights" had the same
problem, y'know.

All: [shouting] YAHTZEE!

Mike: "Recalled?" Forgot to mention that little detail, Rob?

Crow: Either that or this crew has lots of severe memory
problems.

Mike: Amway salesborgs! Run!

Crow & Tom: HELL, NO, WE WON'T ADAPT! HELL, NO, WE--urrrrrk...

Crow: ...subjected them to a fascinating survey about George
Wednt and beans!

Tom: [as Borg] Resistance is futile. You will be surveyed.

Mike: Actually, that would explain a lot at the mall...

>injected their nanites into them. The infected engineers
>stood in shock, trying to differentiate between their own
>motives and the Collective's,

Crow: [trance-like] Regular or decaf?

Crow: Which was actually pretty fun!

> On the bridge, Marrissa was trying everything she
>could think of to try and defeat the over whelming odds. She
>flipped the ship,

Crow: Oooooh! Marrissa's from New York! That would explain a
lot!

Crow: o/~ The captains in Starfleet, they say they're
mighty fine/They'll flip you for a nickel, and roll you
for a dime/I don't want no more Starfleet life... o/~

Crow: Hi, I'm putting a bullet on your shoulder. You die now,
okay?

Mike: Then the Mashed Potato, followed by the Boot-Scootin'
Boogie, the Smurf, the Batusi, and even -

Mike: Yes - *Lambada*, the Forbidden Dance!!!

Tom: And she did all this herself with no help from the crew.

Crow: Unfortunately, most of the crew died while trying to
untangle the extra vowels from the author's spelling.

Mike: That's what happens when your fight scenes are
choreographed by Paula Abdul.

> The Borg beamed in next to the security
>personnel posted at the doors of the bridge. Instead of
>the assimilation tactics used in Engineering, the Security
>team was vaporised, and the other members of the bridge
>scrambled to react.

Tom: Laughing proved ineffective so they tried different
reactions.

Mike: Didn't Sun Tzu say that it was better to capture your
opponent's resources than just destroy them?

Crow: Well, unlike you, the Borg didn't learn everything they
know about tactics by playing "The Ancient Art of War."

> Marrissa took up the phaser rifle once
>again and managed to take out two of the cybernetic terrors,
>who were replaced with more of the same. The Borg fired
>again, killing the helm officer.

Crow: Oh my God! The Borg killed Ensign Kenny! You bastards!

> Alex, who had grabbed his
>phaser rifle, avenged the officer's death by firing a
>vaporising blast into the Borg that killed him.

Tom: Another Borg grabbed the rifle and shot Alex. Patterson
grabbed the rifle and killed the Borg. A third drone
grabbed the rifle and killed Patterson. Jay grabbed the
rifle...

Mike: Thank you, Thomas Malory.

Tom: Jim, this bridge is swarming with Borg drones!

Mike: Thus Marrissa achieves empathy with her audience.

Mike: Jingle all the Way?

Tom: [Ahnuld] It's not a too-mah!

Tom: Yep, all that Starfleet training and she turns to
Schwarzenegger for inspiration.

> The Bridge crew dropped to the deck, as Marrissa fired at
>full power. She was surrounded, but pirouetting like a
>professional dancer while firing, she cut the Borg down to
>ribbons.

[All laugh hysterically.]

Mike: If I spin fast enough they can't hit me!

Crow: Oh, sure, Starfleet won't mind the ring of burn marks in
the walls around the bridge.

Tom: I won't bother adapting to her frequency, she couldn't hit
a Horta at this dist--

Mike: This is the weirdest and most violent version of Swan
Lake I've ever seen!

Crow: If I cover my head you can't see me!

Tom: Sylvester Stallone *IS* Tara Lipinski in "Rambo IV: Death
Lutz"!

Mike: Which was a welcome change.

Crow: And Marrissa mixed with 20th Century ideas save the day!

> With all the drones cut down around the bridge, a
>wave of fatigue washed over her like a tidal wave on a beach.
>

Tom: Covering a psychic Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr.

Mike: That's our Marrissa!

Mike: Courtney Love, no!

Tom: Her worst dreams had come true. The Borg had assimilated
Linus.

Mike: I hope that she hasn't had any Pop Rocks.

Mike: Anyone feel like a game of chess, all of a sudden?

> and in response
>the Borg moved itself so she could see the infant was
>unharmed. But the Borg indicated that it would not stay that
>way if Marrissa fired, by raising her arm and extending the
>nanite injectors over the baby's head. The rage evacuated
>her,

Crow: What's with all the water references?

Mike: Urrr, I shouldn't have had that Big Gulp before we came
in the theater...

Tom: Once her child was assimilated she could kill her and
finally get some sleep at night.

Tom: Homophones: Your Guide To Quality Fanfics.

Mike: 'Course, it doesn't take nine months to make a new drone.

Crow: Pretty much Jay's usual bridge station.

Crow: Galaxy threatened, Federation in danger, Marrissa lets
her personal life interfere.

Tom: o/~ Whip it! Whip it good! o/~

> the Borg extended the
>injector, and pumped Marrissa full of the microscopic,
>assimilating robots.

[Suddenly, balloons and confetti fall from the theater ceiling,
and Mike and the bots dance around cheering]

> This wasn't right,

Crow: Her first thought as the Borg, and it's the most sensible
thought she's had!

Mike: Poetic justice...

Crow: How about "Eunice?"

Tom: Pull the other one, it's got bells on.

> The nanoprobes assimilated the
>blood cells one by one, and the rest of her body couldn't take
>the stress, and shut itself off.

Crow: The nanites considered this "slumming"

Tom: Mike, is it OK to be enjoying this so much? Shouldn't I
feel guilty, or pity, or something?

Mike: Nah. She's had this coming for YEARS.

Mike: Then spontaneous cheers erupted throughout the ship!

Crow: The Federation declared a galaxy-wide day of celebration!

Tom: And cards of condolence poured into the Borg.

Mike: [Alexander] Dibs on her bike.

Crow: "Lifting Marrissa" - the new sequel to "Raising Arizona"

> The three
>then beamed back to their cube, followed by the Borg in
>engineering. In space, the Borg once again cloaked and moved
>away from the fleet. They had what they came for.

Mike: Cheez-Whiz. Crates of it.

Crow: I think the Borg HR department is gonna catch a lot of
flack for this.

Mike: So now Ru Paul's messed up in this?

Tom: Let's go.
[They file out of the theater.]

[1. . . 2 . . . 3. . . 4 . . . 5. . . 6 . . .]

[Mike, Tom, and Crow stand behind the control console. All
three look rather glum. Stereotypical movie crew union people
drinking coffee and eating danishes lounge around the trio.]

Mike: [Sigh] Things just aren't the same up here without Gypsy.

Crow: [Sigh] Yeah, the bridge seems more crowded somehow.

Tom:[Sputtering] Of course it's more crowded! We're surrounded
by union thugs!

Shop Steward: Hey, our contract specifically states that we
are to be referred to as "union hooligans" not thugs.

Tom: Where did those danishes come from?

Shop Steward: Catered. We'd offer you one, but only dues paying
members get them.

Mike: Look, this is silly. I'm going to call Herb and see if we
can get Gypsy back here.
[Mike hits the view screen button.]
Mike: Hey Herb! Herb!

[Studio]
[Herb is reading some papers. Pearl is nowhere to be seen.]

Herb: Oh, hi Mike. I was looking through your Arbitron numbers.
They've been pretty good.

[SoL]

Mike: Yeah, that's great Herb. . .
[Crow darts in front of Mike.]

Crow: What's our share?
[Mike pushes Crow aside.]

Mike: Look, we don't want these union guys aboard. [Turns] No
offense guys.

Shop Steward: None taken.

Mike: We just want Gypsy back. Send her back up, okay?

[Studio]

Herb: No can do, Mikey. She's already working on "Jenny" as
Jenny's wacky neighbor. Anyway, I've come up with an even
better companion for you. She's on her way now.

[SoL]

Tom: We don't want a better companion! We want Gypsy!

Crow: Well, let's not be hasty here. . .

[Studio]

Herb: Whoops. Gotta run. I'm doing lunch with Kevin Bacon. You
can thank me later. Toodles Mike.

[SoL]

Tom: Well, let's just make the best of this then. I'm going to
get one of those danish. . .

[Suddenly, the Satellite is rocked, Star Trek style, by
explosions. The union crew scatters.]
Tom: What the?

Crow: It's not me! I'm not scheduled to buffet the ship with
explosions for another few days!

Mike: Cambot! Give me rocket #9!

[The scene shifts to the outside of the Satellite of Love. A
Borg Cube is hanging, motionless, just outside the SoL. It
appears to be firing on the SoL.]

Crow: Mike! It's the Borg! They're out to get us!
[A transporter effect begins behind the trio. A humanoid figure
begins to materialize.]

Tom: Look! They're sending a boarding crew aboard! You've got
to stop them, Mike!

Mike: We have no weapons! What do you want me to do? Wave my
hand and say "Borg begone now!"
[Mike waves one of his hands and places the other on the
control console. Suddenly, the scene shifts outside. The Borg
cube is struck by a massive bolt of energy. The cube then
explodes in a gigantic fireball, which is sure to have used up
all of the special effect money for season 9 and 10.]
[Back on the Bridge, Tom and Crow stare at Mike, who stands
there sheepishly.]

Tom: Mike Nelson, Destroyer of Worlds strikes again.

Crow: We stand humbled in your presence, Oh Mighty One!

Mike: Knock it off you two. I'm sure that there's some rational
explanation for this.
[Mike begins to examine the console. Meanwhile, the humanoid
figure behind Mike finishes materializing. It's a Borg. A
female Borg, who begins to walk intently towards Mike and the
bots, who are unaware of her presence.]
Mike: [Staring at the console] Look! The nanites added an
"Anti-Borg ray" to the control console when we weren't
looking. Say, there's an "Anti- Shadows " ray too. And an
"Anti-Team Knight Rider" ray . . .
[The Borg drone is now mere feet away from the trio, who now

look up and see her.]

Crow: Hey look! A Borg boarding party! You don't see many of
those around here.

Mike: [Hesitantly] What do you want?

Borg: We. Can. No. Longer. Hear. The. Collective. What. Has.
Been. Done?

Mike: Well, uh, I. . .

Tom: Mike blew up your pathetic little cube!

Crow: Yeah! So back of unless you want the same done to you,
pal!

Mike: Guys, stop helping.

Borg: The Collective is no more? We are alone? Without our
crewmates to assist us? This unit must continue its
existence. This unit must adapt. . .
[The Borg wanders off stage.]

Crow: Mike!. You scared her off ! Way to go!

Tom: Yeah, good job Big Guy!

Mike: But I didn't do anything! I just stood here and
stammered!

Tom: Come on! You scared her off!

Crow: Don't sell yourself short. The bald guy himself couldn't
have done better.
[The Borg returns from off-stage. She no longer wears the Borg
prosthesis, rather she now wears a silver-gray form fitting
bodysuit, leaving little to the imagination.]

Borg: Oh. Hello again Michael.
[The trio stands speechless for a moment.]

Borg: Although I am saddened that my presence in the Collective
has been terminated, I am quite happy to be spending time
among my new crew mates.

Borg: I have long ago forgotten my birth name. Among the Borg,
we are simply referred to by number.

Crow: [Snapping back to life] You mean like 134,592,943 of
403,116,986?

Tom: Or Square Root of 13 of 47?

Crow: Wait, I thought she was Logarithm of 4 of pi to the
fourth?

Tom: No no, you've got it all wrong, she's Fourier Series of
Sin 2*x of the number of 1997 Denver Nugget losses.

Crow: No, she's 36 of 24 of ...

Crow: Come on, Mike. She's a babe!

Borg: [Angrily, grabbing Crow] Golden one! Are you making a
derogatory comment about me? Are you, perhaps comparing
me to a child?
[She drags Crow off-stage. Loud noises can now be heard as Crow
is tossed about.]

Tom: Gee Mike. Do you think that we should keep the Borg from
turning Crow into scrap metal?
[Crow shrieks as more crashes are heard.]

Mike: I suppose. Hey, Borg person!
[She reappears, still grasping Crow by the neck.]
Crow wasn't insulting you. He was comparing you to a
beloved character of children's films.

Borg: [Dreamily] I remember watching this program with my
grandparents before my assimilation. It was one of the
happiest moments of my young life. Then the Borg
killed them in a raid. Still, the Borg made wonderful
latte. And bear claws. . . [She continues to mumble]
[Tom looks at Mike, then the Borg, then Mike again.]

Tom: Mike, do you have any missing relatives?

Mike: Oh Borg? Booorg?
[She snaps back to reality.]

Borg: Oh. Yes. Sorry. I have considered the Golden One's
words, and I will gladly accept the moniker that he has
given. I will proudly bear the name of that brave little
pig.
[She drops Crow to the floor.]

Mike: Well, that's great, um, Babe.

Tom: Glad to have you aboard.

Crow: [Still on the floor] Erf.

Babe: [angrily] What was that, Golden One?
[The lights begin to flash.]

Mike: Whoops. That'll have to wait. We've got fan-fic sign!
[Mike and Tom rush about while Babe stands aside, confused.
Crow's still on the floor.]

[6 . . . 5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1 . . .]

[The trio enters and sits down.]

Tom: Wow. We've got our own little pet Borg now. Isn't that
cool?

Crow: I miss Gypsy. She didn't hit me quite as hard.

>From rtonts@direct.ca Fri Jan 09 13:58:47 1998
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
>Subject: NEW Hail to the Queen 2/4 [PG] (TNG, Marrissa
>Stories)
>From: Ron Tonts <rtonts@direct.ca>

Tom: Oh, so Rob is sending *direct* caca.

>Date: Fri, 09 Jan 1998 19:58:47 +0000
>
>
>--------------2775F4753112E659C8F739D3
>Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; x-mac-
type="54455854"; x-mac->creator="4D4F5353"
>Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
>
> Chapter 3
>
> Jay had retrieved his child from the seat, proceeded to his
>quarters, and placed the child in its crib. He then proceeded
>to throw the largest tantrum since the last time he thought
>Marrissa was dead.

Mike: Which was last night, when Marrissa wandered off to the
bathroom without telling him.

Tom: [Jay] I wanted to kill her! I wanted to kill her!

Tom: Even worse than being dead...she's alive!

> she could come back, but she was a member of the Borg.
>Now in order to retrieve her, he had to defeat her. It was no
>good, she could do anything better than he could.

Crow: Hey, he's singing Marrissa's theme song!

Tom: [Marrissa] o/~ Anything you can do, I can do better, I can
do anything better than you! o/~

Mike: [Jay] Yes, dear.

Crow: Somehow, it *always* seems to come back to that Kobiyashi
Maru score.

Crow: Yep, without Marrissa the damn Federation Janitors
couldn't work . . .

> If an entire fleet could
>barely stop the Borg when they had one ship and was unified,
>how could they stop six ships? The questions kept him awake
>through the night.
>

Mike: Uh, no, Jay, that's the baby.

Tom: Well, more like tossed upward, rebounding off the
backboard, hitting the blimp, bouncing off Morn, off the
replicator, nothing but net.

Crow: Hmm. The Borg must have been at that Carnival too.

Mike: Marrissa's being assimilated by Cure fans.

Mike: Boy, who'd've thought the Borg were such perverts?

Crow: [Borg] Clothing is irrelevant. We will--hey, nice ones!

Crow: So, did Herb help with this story too?

Tom: Mike, we have our own one of those now out on the Bridge.

Mike: Yeah, you're right. I better go check on her. Um, just to
see if she's okay, of course.

Crow: Stay away from her Mike. She's trouble.

Mike: Yeah right.
[Mike exits.]

Tom: So, will she kill him or just maim him?

Crow: My money's on 'kill.'

Crow: Which, eclipsed by her glands, was easy to miss!

Tom: And floated out of Marrissa's body to inhabit a nearby
ventriloquist's dummy.

> and cried out in pain and anguish
>as it slowly was cut off from its senses. In its place was
>only the Collective, needing a leader and an icon.

Tom: Oh, just paste it into the Get Info window..

Crow: [mumbled] MacBoy.

> The logical part of the mind accepted this as a
>challenge to over throw, and submersed itself in its task.

[Mike re-enters]

Crow: [To Tom] Damn. He's alive.

Tom: Back so soon, Mike? Did you forget about the lack of
atmosphere on the Bridge again?

Mike: No. Herb added some atmosphere for the union people.

Crow: Well then, how did it go with Babe?

Mike: I didn't see her.

Tom: So why are you back then?

Mike: The union people. They. They, they had their shirts off.
[All shiver uncontrollably.]

>When her eyes reopened, there was emotions, passions, values,
>and memories of her past life that seemed distorted.

Tom: Well, yes, looked at logically Marrissa's values and
passions do seem a bit distorted.

Mike: Almost as if they were written by a fanfic author...

Crow: Boy, Rob's characterization of Marrissa is right on the
money!

Mike: [standing and holding his arms over his head] BY THE
POWER OF THE COLLECTIVE...

Mike: See? There's Elric standing over there by the Borg coffee
table.

Crow: So pretty much par for the course then.

Mike: Like you said, he has some good insights into the
character.

Tom: [as Picard] No! No! Not the OJ Trial again!

> The horrors and pain he felt when he was a part of the Borg.
>Now his adopted daughter Marrissa was part of the Collective.

Crow: [Announcer] Today, you too can own Daughter Marrissa in
this fine line of Borg collectibles from the Franklin
Mint. Only 4 easy payments of $29.95!

Crow: [Jay] The trouble is, she's not actually legally dead, so
I can't inherit yet...do you suppose we could at least
have her declared incompetent?

> But the worst part was that Marrissa had too
>much access to Starfleet defences and other secret operations.
>She knew weaknesses on all the ships that have come out.

Tom: Like, if you promise the crew of the Bozeman that you'll
send over nude gifs of Denise Crosby if they drop their
shields, they'll do it. Stuff like that.

Crow: And a psychotic disregard for all life, something he'd
never managed to achieve.

> "Jay, what are the most likely places for the Borg to attack
>now that they know about the Federation?" inquired the Fleet
>Admiral.

Tom: *Picard* is asking *Jay*?!?

Mike: That's sorta like Steven Hawking asking advice on quantum
mechanics from Gilligan!

Crow: So, the Borg didn't know about the Federation before?

Tom: [as Borg] Why are all these different ships attacking us?
It can't be some sort of federation of planets or
anything...

> "Well, the only targets that I can think of that they would
>hit, are Earth for the population, and since they always have
>seemed to go for it.

Mike: They're just funny that way.

> Mars and the Utopia Planitia shipyards in
>order to get the technology there. Vulcan because its a major
>keystone in the Federation.

Crow: Vulcans are from Pennsylvania?

> They might also try for the Essex
>Fighter facility. Oh, SoongCorp on Omicron Theta also has a
>large variety of technology along with the Defiant shipyard in
>orbit."

Tom: What a wonderfully contrived list of targets!

Crow: [Picard] And, since SoongCorp is an invention of this
author, I'm betting on that one.

Mike: Were we all just about to make jokes about Jay leaning to
one side?

Mike: Well, let's just take them as read, then.

Crow: Nope. The Republicans and the Democrats are still at an
impasse.

Tom: Remember Crow, it's a Canadian story. Their political
parties are the Lumberjack Party and the Hockey Player
Party.

Mike: Once again, that pretty much describes "Middle ground"
doesn't it?

Crow: Great! We can hide in the wreckage of their last
invasion!

Mike: Well, there's a pile up on the Vogon transpatial highway
so it'll be a while.

> "About a day or two. The Borg managed to cut the power
>supplies for most of the ships. They're recharging through
>the use, well, I don't understand the whole process,

Crow: [Jay] It's called the "Clara Sutter Handwave Procedure."

Mike: Recharging through use?

Tom: Obviously there's some piece of trektrivia we missed.

Crow: Stand by for ACTION!!!!

Mike: We're down to Ensign Dilbert and Wally.

> We can get the shields up
>in about an hour, but they'll only be at twenty percent.
>After that, we should get 100% shields in about eight hours."

Tom: Raging statistical action!

Crow: [Jay] Sir, this is Star Trek. Religion is considered
silly and irrelevant.

Mike: And the vicious cycle continues.

Tom: Since Marrissa has you grabbing your knees all the
time . . .

Tom: Oh, you thought it too.

Crow: So Chief O' Hara, do you think that Batman can defeat the
Joker's nefarious plan?

Tom: Oh, faith and begorra Commissioner. We can only hope so.

> Jay switched off
>the connection. The loss of Marrissa was too much to bear, he
>was too depressed to even realise what the Fleet Admiral had
>said.

Crow: [Jay] What'd he say? Something about dogfood and Mel
Brooks? Ah, the heck with it!

Tom: I've never heard of that part of female anatomy before.

Crow: Fear, impotence, failure, humiliation.

> He felt he was going to cry, again, when Clara's
>voice came through the intercom.
> "Jay here, what can I do for you Clara?" Jay answered
despondently.

Crow: [as Clara] I need a man! Quick!

Crow: [Jay] The Borg don't have tails, Clara.

Tom: [Clara] Well, then, I'll have Dr. Johnson attach some!

Crow: [Jay] Make it so.

Tom: [Clara, muttering] Yeah, you're half right, anyway!

Mike: ...since that would be sensible, after all...

Tom: So, let's exploit the plot contrivance as long as we can.

> "Well, sir, I think that we've come up with a method to
>increase the amount power we produce. Right now, we have four
>cargo bays completely empty."

Mike: [Clara] We can put some extra power there!

Tom: [as Clara] Think "T.G.I. Friday's!"

Crow: Or, we could fill them full of hamsters on treadmills,
all connected to tiny, tiny dynamos!

Tom: [Jay] Yeah, it was a pretty good Web management system!

Tom: No, I think it was the 20st. Or maybe even the 23nd.

Mike: Um... well... um... how about *space*?

Tom: Nope, not cold enough.

Crow: Did they try a dish of Klingon revenge?

Tom: I always pictured that as being like cucumber soup.

> "Well, we were going to set up fusion batteries in the Cargo
>Bays, and flood them with liquid Nitrogen. Then expose the
>cargo bay to deep space.

Mike: ...which will suck everything *out* of the bays...

Mike: That wouldn't happen to be strawberry juice?

Tom: Err, doesn't the Federation use anti-matter for internal
power? That's a lot more efficient than fusion, hot or
cold.

> "Wait a moment, from what you're telling me, the system will
>need hydrogen and nitrogen in order to run. How will we get
>those?"

Tom: Oh, I dunno, maybe if you had some WATER and some AIR you
could get some?!?!

Mike: Here's another box of nitrogen, sir.

Crow: Good. Now get some jars of hydrogen!

Mike: [Clara; waving his hand] We call it the "By-our-
bootstraps Method."

Tom: Good thing she waited until the last minute to invent
perpetual motion.

Mike: Report to Sickbay for a lobotomy.

Mike: But they probably are.

> Hours later, the fleet moved off towards the rendezvous point
>at Wolf 359. Jay was in command, with Alexander fulfilling
>the duties as First officer,

Mike: Being a whipping boy for the Captain?

Tom: Hey, who's this Ops fella? Seems like a regular sorta
guy.

Crow: [with a lisp] Don't evther sthick your tongue on cold
posths.

Crow: And it did. Hundreds of crewmembers were sucked out into
the endless void of space. Including one Ensign Adolphus
Throwaway Jr.

> The batteries turned on, the power grid surged with new
>found life. The entire ship held its breath for nearly three
>minutes.

Mike: ...killing most of the crew due to asphyxiation.

Mike: A starship captain with a battery is like a little kid
with a hammer.

Crow: Where they met the gang from Beverly Hills 90210.

Mike: I don't think this guy could write tension to save his
life.

> On the Borg ships, the Borg Queen Marrissa was orientating
>herself to the powers and collective thought of the race she
>had joined. The Borg did not touch her face or hair, as they
>understood that she had quite a reputation.

Tom: [Marrissa] And I want a big bowl of M&M's in my dressing
room, with all the yellow ones picked out, a dozen fresh
roses every day, and a CD player cranking out Smash Mouth
& Chumbawumba 24-7!

Mike: [Borg] Are we sure we can't just clone Alice Krige?

Mike: Hey, Cardassians, we've got Marrissa now!

Crow: Hey, cool! Sign us up!

Tom: So fun isn't irrelevant?

Mike: Decent continuity certainly is.

> As her mind sent the order to the collective,
>the unseen ships moved towards a local colony world. The
>citizens were shocked and scared witless when the cubes
>emerged from deep space.

Crow: The citizens were confused. The cubes usually arrived
from one of the holes leading to the planet's hollow
center.

Tom: Bambi Meets Godzilla, the Next Generation.

> The
>assimilation took place quickly, with the largest colony
>absorbed in about half an hour. The colonists then expected
>to meet the same fate, or be spared. But the Borg had other
>plans.

Crow: They involved strawberry juice and a planet-sized Super-
Soaker.

Crow: [Borg] We are Borg. We are capable of hitting the broad
side of a barn.

Mike: They all got an e-mail titled "GOOD TIMES - JOIN THE
CREW!"

> The cells in the body would turn against each
>other, tearing each other apart. Resulting in a slow, painful
>death.

Tom: So this fits the Borg style of assimilate-and-use HOW?

Mike: I don't think they're really doing that; they're just
telling Marrissa this to keep her happy.

Tom: Hulk smash puny planet!

Tom: I don't think power's really changed her...she's just more
obvious about it now.

Mike: In a wartime situation, I don't think those two things
can be the same thing.

Crow: Someplace with a mall!

Crow: Coming this fall, "Marrissa the Musical!"

Mike: Q! How dare you turn an entire system into pudding!

Tom: So, were the Borg having a block party?

>Most of the ships were taken to the smelting yard. I hope
>that once we're done here, there'll still be a Federation to
>haul the debris back to a smelting yard.

Crow: That's right Jay, think optimistic! [mumbling] Poor
deluded bastard.

Crow: Wild, random sex in the hallways is rampant, commandments
are being broken around the clock and I don't think a
single crew member is fully sober.

Tom: Oh, like in "The Naked Now."

> Especially since the Borg have attacked a small
>outpost. They assimilated the main colony, and destroyed the
>rest with some type of biological weapon.

Mike: [Jay] Fortunately, we were able to cure everyone with the
biofilter in the transporter.

Crow: Oh, like they ever repeat a trick like that.

Crow: Yeah, because of your wife, pouf-pants.

Crow: Relax, that was just for old time's sake.

>The fleet was impressive, he'd give it that. The Earth
>defence fleet led by Fleet Admiral Picard in the USS James T.
>Kirk was in attendance, along with the Defiant fleet

Mike: [Picard] Attack the Borg!

Tom & Crow: [fleet] No!

Tom: Doesn't this kind of defeat the purpose of giving them
names?

> Two Nova class Carriers including the
>Enterprise, seven Nebula class cruisers, two Galaxy class
>Cruisers, nine Sovereign class Battleships, four Ambassador
>cruisers,

Mike: Two and a half Maltin Review Vessels. . .

Tom: I hope you got all that, because there's going to be a pop
quiz later.

Mike: Nice Hot Wheels collection Jay's got there.

> Fighter Squadron Alpha. Come in Alpha
>leader."
> "Roger that, Control. What can I do for ya?" Came the reply.
> "How are the manoeuvres going?"

Tom: [Alpha leader] That depends - what's a "manoeuvre"

Crow: It's the plural of "man ovary". Good gravy, Jay's
pregnant!!!

Mike: Settle down, it's just creeping Canadianism.

Mike: [Alpha leader] We have "The Wizard of Oz" loaded in the
VCR, and are prepared to start the CD on the third roar
of the lion.

Crow: Damn jumpgates and stargates, it's not safe to travel any
more.

Crow: Just your typical massive subspace anomaly. You haven't
been on Star Trek long, have you?

> All fighters, proceed to the following
>coordinates." The fighters remained in a tight diamond
>formation, as they banked towards the anomaly.

Crow: It's a chance to get killed, hurry!

Mike: Heyheyhey, watch your language - there are kids here!

Crow: Yeah, and they're your bosses!

Crow: And now we seem to have wandered into a Stan Ridgeway
song.

Tom: [partner] Sounds like they're playing Q*Bert. And not
doing too well.

Mike: Well, technically it wasn't "above," because there's no
up or down in space, and it wasn't the sky because there
was no atmosphere, but other than that it's basically
accurate.

> "Sir, we've just received messages about the location of
>the Borg fleet." Said the Tactical officer on the USS Kirk.

Mike: They're in front of Fred. Beyond that, it's not too
clear.

> "Pass the coordinates on to the rest of the fleet. Helm,
>maximum warp. Engage." Picard ordered, reminding him of his
>days as a Captain of the Enterprise.

Mike: [Picard] Make it so! Come! Tea, Earl Grey, hot!

Tom: So, apparently, no one cares what planet the Borg are at.

Crow: [Picard] To Planet Generica! Maximum Warp!

Crow: The Rubix Cube?

Tom: Wow! Not even the Tsars dreamed of such luxury!

Crow: [Marrissa] Boy, on this thing Brad's butt is the size of
a Buick.

> All her implants were able to connect and
>disconnect to the chair at will for feeding, resting, and
>commanding.

Tom: Well, it's not an interocitor, but I guess it'll have to
do.

Crow: But not excreting, so as usual, she was still full of
crap.

> The viewscreen showed the target planet in the
>background, and with the fighter craft they had just
>captured in a picture-in-picture display.

Mike: [sobbing] Picture-in-picture...next thing we'll find out
it has a Sega...

Crow: It also had stereo sound, VCR-Plus, a built-in DVD
player. Plus, a hammock for all the stuffed animals she's
assimilated.
[Mike begins to sob harder]

Tom: Don't taunt him like that.

> The pilots were
>pathetic, not knowing anything about the structure of the
>security grids, or anything of relevance.

Crow: Y'know, I never noticed this before, but Marrissa has a
bit of an attitude, doesn't she?

Tom: Wow, Crow, you're right! She certainly keeps it well
hidden.

> They were added to the
>Collective. Sitting back in the iron throne, she contemplated
>her next move. To assimilate, or obliterate. That is the
>question that plagues her thoughts.
>

Tom: Whether 'tis nobler to compose a fanfic,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them. To write, to type,
Aye, there's the rub; but in these fics of fan
What implausibilities may come must give us pause.
Who would Kids Crew bear, or Marrissa read,
When he could his quietus make with a delete key?

> The fleet dropped out of warp to find the Borg sitting in
>orbit behind the outer moon. A shudder ran through Jay's
>system as he recognised the Borg's newest target. The planet
>Essex.
>

Mike: Oh, they're going to excavate the ending to "A Royal
Mess" so we finally get to see it.

Crow: No, not even the Borg would be that sinister.

Tom: Geeez, the only thing people are doing are sitting around
and contemplating their next move!

Crow: This is the Star Trek equivalent of "Waiting for Godot."

> It was odd, he always heard the Borg after the
>encounters. His mind was alone, with only himself and no Borg
>directives or other thought entering his mind.

Tom: [Picard] Y'know, I think I really like vanilla.

Mike: Will you accept the charges?

Tom: [sports announcer] You're looking *live* at sold-out Borg
Cube Arena...

Crow: [Borg] Bob called. He'd like his hedge trimmers back,
and wants to know if you're up for bowling Friday night.
Oh, yeah, and resistance is futile.

Tom: [Mandy Patinkin] Prepare to die.

Tom: It's Troi! Ahh! Oh wait. Why are we afraid of her?

> The screen
>then shifted to the interior of the room where Marrissa sat.
>Her face was untouched by the Borg implants that sprung

Crow: Hey, it's "The Number of the Beast!"

Mike: No, there's an "r."

Crow: Great, now Marrissa's a mime.

Mike: Hey, she's a dual major! Typical overachiever.

Tom: Just ignore the margarita she's holding.

> Watching on the bridge of the
>Enterprise, Jay felt like throwing up every bit of matter in
>his digestive system.

Crow: [as Jay] *Gag*! Marrissa, black just *isn't* your color!
You're more of a spring!

> "Ah, greetings Locutus. Or should I say, Father?" the New
>Queen started "As you can see, I've now joined the Borg in
>their quest to bring order to the galaxy. Not only that, but
>I get to have some fun on the side."

Crow: [Marrissa] Oh, and Jay? I'm seeing Six of Two now. Hope
you understand. Buh-bye.

Tom: [Jay] Funny, I'd have thought being assimilated would have
changed her personality a *little*!

Crow: To get reconnected, there'd be a $45 hook-up fee.

Crow: Throwing Herzog and his cronies out of work!
[All cheer]

Mike: Yep, sadism. Really makes your species more efficient,
doesn't it?

Tom: One ship to watch them all, one ship to cover them,/One
ship to guard them all and hover in space above them.

> The one ship fired every weapon in its arsenal at the
>Federation Fleet. From shield drainers to cutting lasers.

Mike: Even the kitchen sink!

Crow: Tsk. Tsk. Drinking while fighting the Borg.

Mike: Actually, that's kind of sensible.

> areas where the weak systems
>were supposed to be, only to find a new weapon port, or extra
>armour placed around it.

Crow: Hey, the Collective finally assimilated a clue!

Tom: Oh, that's what we were doing wrong! We were ignoring the
weaknesses of our own ships! No wonder we keep losing!

Mike: I've heard of better rewards.

Tom: And they are not amused.

Crow: Meanwhile the general populace died horribly. . .

Crow: [Borg] You will be assimilated.

Mike: [Borg] I am *already* assimilated, you big doof.

> In the bomb shelter, two Borg appeared
>and began to assimilate the Counsel. Queen Victoria cried in
>terror, but became relieved when she saw Marrissa's visage
>behind the two Borg.

Mike: That's odd. Most people scream in terror when they see
Marrissa, and are relieved when the Borg appear.

Crow: ...she LIKED what she SAW!

Tom: Sure, if you're into tubes.

Mike: Coming soon to theaters near you: Marrissa: Queen of the
Essex!

Mike: She's crossed the line that separates ordinary villainy
from cartoonish super-villainy.

Crow & Tom: o/~ Oh, the laugh that chilled the room was the
start of the Revolution... o/~

Tom: So, she crawled into her Power loader and forced Marrissa
away from Newt.

>using all her inner strength to build up her courage. "My
>spirit will not accept the bonds that you place on my mortal
>body."

Crow [Marrissa]: Okay, then we'll just shoot you

Tom: I'd sing here, but I can't remember anything that they
sang.

Mike: [Dustin Hoffman] Are you trying to assimilate me, Ms.
Picard?

Crow : We have SOME standards.

Tom: So if she's assimilated, would she be Victoria Borg?

Crow: [Victor Borge] Rezhistance ist futile. *KEEK* Ve vill add
your biological, *GLICK* und technological, *GLICK*
dishtinctiveness to our-r-r-r-r own. *KEEK*

> "You-you mean you won't ..." stammered Victoria, amazed and
>relieved at the same time.
> "No, I wouldn't let them." Marrissa interrupted, in the same
>friendly tone. "Not when I could savour this type of moment."

Crow: [Victoria] Hey, baby, where does this tube go?

Mike: Suddenly, she's "Robocop", too.

Tom: These stories are just getting longer and longer.

> Victoria
>became a small pile of dust.

[Once again, more balloons drop from the ceiling of the
theater, and Mike and the bots dance around again.]

Crow: No, no. First she has to turn her into a dodecahedron,
then she can crush her and turn her into a pile of dust.

Tom: Mike, can this be happening? Are our dreams of a
Marrissa-free universe coming true?!

Mike: It sure looks that way, Tom...

Tom: I wonder if this is officially in Ratliff continuity?

Mike: Official Kids Crew canon. Now there's a scary thought.

Crow: Hey, this means Ratliff has to drop "Heir to the Throne
of Essex" from the introduction scenes!

> The newly acquired Borg and
>Marrissa beamed back to their Cube, which then set down on top
>of the palace, assimilating the entire structure.
>

Tom: In the U.S. we call it "crushing."

Mike: Yep, the cube now has stables and fountains, but who
cares, they'll assimilate ANYTHING.

Mike: Well, sure, if you get the leather interior and 6-CD
changer.

Crow: The U.S.S. Jim Carrey.

Crow: One of many in the plot.

> The area was
>now the prime target, and the Borg defended it as such.
>Twenty-one ships died before the final Quantum Torpedoes
>struck the vulnerable area, destroying the ship.

Mike: Duck, more numbers!

> The fleet
>turned it's attention to the planet of Essex, where the key
>areas and cities were already absorbed. The ships moved into
>orbit, where they bombarded the surface with several
>torpedoes.

Tom: Why is the Federation attacking Essex?

Mike: I think "the fleet" means the Borg.

Crow: I thought the proper term was a gaggle of Borg.

Tom: ...they broke open to expose a creamy nougat filling!

Crow: Quick! Get the popcorn!

Mike: Mass choirs of "Row Row Row your Boat" shortly followed.

Crow: Sales of marshmallows and hot dogs increased
dramatically!

Crow: Hey, Mike, I can't find "Earth" on my periodic chart!

Tom: Sure you can. Right next to "Fire" and right under "Air."

> The once thriving world of Essex became little more than
>a miniature burning sun for a brief moment, and then remained
>a small charred cinder.
>

Crow: Wow! Marrissa's reaching heights of destruction even
*she* never dreamed of!

Mike: Ratliff must be so-o-o-o-o jealous right now!

Tom: Wow. I enjoyed THAT.

Mike: You know, except for WHO she kills, Marrissa is pretty
much the same.

Crow: Yeah, and we do have the bonus of watching the
representative of an outdated system of government be
killed off.

> Jay watched as the world of Essex became a black ball of ash.
>He was stripped of all his grief and sadness, and cloaked in
>anger.

Mike: So he's nude and pissed?

Crow: Not a BAD metaphor.

Tom: [helmsman] Course set for planet Rubik, sir!

Mike: [Jay] Alex, whine about your father. Patterson, find out
whether you're a man or woman today.

Mike: Ooops, too late, we're dead.

> The Enterprise moved off, with the fleet calling after it.
>Within moments, one of the huge cubes filled the viewscreen.

Mike: "Objects in the viewscreen may appear larger than they
really are."

>The Enterprise fired all of its weaponry into the former
>strong areas of the cube in hopes of hitting a vital system.
>The cube merely sat and absorbed the punishment.

Tom: Ahhh, apparently, the Borg are in to S&M!

Crow: "Whip me! Harder! Harder!"

Mike: Ok, guys, we're getting into a really weird area here...

Crow: So they're gonna slash the Enterprise's tires?

Mike: So, the Borg apparently no longer have any sense of
what "Vital ship systems" are?

Mike: Whoops. Forgot about those. Sorry.

Tom: Starfleet announced the tragic death of the Puttermans
today. . .

> This sent a massive
>surge though the power grid, overloading the phasers and
>shields. In such a vulnerable position, the Borg could have
>made short work out of the ship.

Tom: Bwow-chicka-bow-BWOW!

Crow: Because otherwise it would have bogged down the plot.

> After the fleet limped back to Wolf 359, and Jay received a
>harsh lecture from the Fleet Admiral about running off with
>the ship.

Mike: [Admiral] Young man, what have I told you about borrowing
the ship without permission?

Tom: [Jay, contrite] Sorry, Dad.

Mike: [Admiral] No raktajino for a month!

Tom: [Jay] I'd be upset if I knew what the hell raktajino was.

> The fleet was stumped. There was no indication of
>what target they would go for next. As a result, the only
>option was to sit back, wait, and lick their wounds.

Crow: My wound tastes like pus, what does yours take like.

Mike: [Retching Noises] Thanks . . .

Tom: Final Conflict!

Mike: "Earth 3", the new series directed by Steven Spielberg
coming to NBC this fall.

Crow: [Jan Brady] You're always talking about Earth! Earth
Earth Earth!

> The Collective wanted to stop this petty attack on
>small colonies and planets that could easily be assimilated
>after Earth. The Queen mentally screamed at them to shut up
>while she decided what to do next.
>

Crow: Naturally, no one heard a mental scream, so she resorted
to the low tech method of screaming aloud.

> Jay awoke from a restless sleep when the baby's cry broke
>out. Cradling the little infant and feeding it from a bottle
>seemed foreign to him.

Mike: Wait, Jay usually breast-feeds his daughter?

Crow: Hey, this is the 24th Century. Can't the doctor make him
lactate?

Tom: Court orders and such, you know.

Mike: Wow! What a simile. I'm in awe.

Mike: [crewman] Sir, the Borg have invaded, the Federation lies
in ruins, and certain destruction is imminent!

Tom: [Jay] Ensign, please, this is my little "me" time - just a
bubble bath and a pint of French Vanilla Haagen Dazs.

All: OH NO! HOME MOVIES!

Mike: I think we've seen enough of this 'other' side of
Marrissa for a life time!

Crow: Geez, even in the 24th century, they're *still* making
Prefontaine movies!

Tom: However, she'd hurled all the during-pregnancy holos out
the airlock, screaming "I'm a blimp! I'm a blimp!"

Tom: Yes, Marrissa is Bethany in Kevin Smith's Dogma.

Crow: [as Jay] Oh, look how little Sarah liked to be pressed
with the grapes! Oh, and there's Alexander after downing
6 bottles of wine - only took 20 guards to stop his reign
of terror! Oh, and there's me digging up the charred
remains of Picard's in-laws... "

Mike: Close your mouth, Jay.

Mike: Replaced it with a toaster, in fact. Jay doesn't cope
well with loss.

Tom: Her! Her! The offspring of your union, the fruit of your
loins has gender, you repressed, p-whipped mealymouthed
moron!

Tom: At least he's not wallowing in his grief.

Crow: Ahhhh, the wonders of Prozac.

> So it was rather
>obvious that she would be cheesed off when the doorbell rang.
> "Who the hell is it? It's three in the morning."

Tom: Jackie's pretty scrappy for an eight-year-old.

Tom: Well, she can't be more than twelve or so. Either way,
Jean-Luc and Beverly aren't raising her very well.

> Jackie
>moaned, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Jay opened the door.
> "Jackie, listen. Is there any way for you to hack into the
>Borg Collective?"

Crow: Sure. It's in UNIX, right?

Crow: And a Powerbookc.

Mike: Well, that goes without saying.

Tom: Unfortunately, Borg drones are nine-pin and she only has
thirteen-pin cables.

Mike: [Jay] Oh, nothing much, just the tiny little matter of a
MASSIVE BORG INVASION, YOU GIT!!!

Crow: Which is strange since all she was ever good at was
smugness and anger!

Tom: In other words, how Marrissa feels on an ordinary day.

Mike: [Borg drone] Miz Picard? I brung you some purty posies.

Crow: Yeah, positive emotions certainly messed her up in real
life!

> "Yeah, that might work," Jackie figured, "And if it doesn't,
>we could still hookup blueprints and weak points of the cube
>ships."
> "Great, we can get to it, as soon as we find a Borg."

Tom: Or World of Borg.

Mike: Don't forget Borg Club.

> "Ok, now if ya don't mind, I'd like to get back to sleep."
> "All right, see you in the morning." With that, Jay left the
>quarters, and Jackie fell back into a deep slumber.
>

Mike: Yeah, we'll save the universe after our beauty sleep.

Crow: Sleep is irrelevant.

Tom: Can't she just prop herself up in one of those little
closets for a couple of hours?

>Marrissa still pondered her next move. Should she finish off
>the Romulans? The Klingons? Perhaps the Cardassians with the
>Dominion?

Crow: The Chicago Bulls?

Tom: Hey, Cylons versus the Borg! That'd be...redundant.

>NO, she screamed at herself, why was she putting this off?
>Why didn't she want to end the Federation? She was weak then,
>but now with all this power, she didn't want to remove the
>people who limited her? Why?

Crow: It's the evil power of Viacom.

Tom: "We won't let you kill a main character. Unless their
contract is up, of course."

>In order to let the Collective believe she was listening, she
>let two of her ships head towards Wolf 359. The fleet could
>die first, then the Federation.
>
> The morning awakened the crews of the fleet,

Crow: Morning, in space?

Mike: Haven't we been over this before, Crow?

Tom: [as generic crew] Ho-huh, another day of waiting.

> The days had been spent modifying a Borg idea. The EMP
>weapons used in the previous attacks could be toned down to a
>hand-held rifle.

Mike: Yeah, that's bright. Fire anti-electronic weapons on the
bridge of a starship.

> It was the development team's hope that they
>would get to run the final tests today. Instead, the two Borg
>ships appearing in front of the fleet shattered that hope.

Mike: Actually, it looks like they'll be getting their chance,
so...

Mike: Apparently, the Federation is unalterably opposed to
Buffalo shots.

Crow: Well, that's one good thing about them.

Tom: The Federation meets the threat of beef bullion head on!

Mike: Fortunately, it rolled 3d8 against firepower and got
a good save.

> but began regenerating, after
>it's counterpart used an EMP burst to short out the
>electronics on all the ships.

Crow: Wanna bet that the lack of life support doesn't
*actually* kill everyone on the Enterprise?

Tom: So no one in the 24th century has ever heard of shielded
wiring?

Mike: Remember, they don't know about fuses either.

> The Enterprise was barely
>functional when a Runabout holding Alexander, Shayna, and a
>Security Detachment headed towards the intact cube.

Mike: I'd say they're escaping the action, but I don't think
there was any.

Tom: [as Shayna] Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

>
> The damaged cube ship was vulnerable, the other ship could be
>dealt with as a combined effort, Admiral Saavik Jeric decided.

Crow: So is this Kirstie Alley or Robin Curtis?

Mike: Let's hope it's Alley. Rrrrowl!

>This division had arrived just after the Borg attacked. They
>transported everyone in the command bunker up to the lead
>ship. At Preador Stovin's

Mike: Once again, it's "How Many Ways Can You Spell The Title
of the Romulan Leader!'

Tom: Ratliff's influence strikes again.

Crow: Wait, in Ratliff's universe isn't Saavik head of
Federation Intelligence?

Mike: Yeah, she's the J. Edgar Hoover of the Federation.

Crow: Oh, she wears women's clothes? [Guffaws, then breaks
off] Wait a second...

> "All ships prepare to decloak and attack
>the damaged cube on my mark!" Saavik ordered. Out of the
>corner of her eye, she noted Preator Stovin sat in an
>unoccupied seat on the bridge.

Crow: Reading a magazine.

Mike: Actually, she never actually *said* the word, she just
kept mouthing it over and over.

Tom: Well, that truly was a pointless scene.

Tom: The author couldn't imagine any in other words.

> Alex held his EMP Rifle uneasily, knowing that if
>the team failed, there'd nothing to go home to. Also, if
>these new gadgets didn't work the way they were supposed to,
>they were going to be joining the Collective as Marrissa's new
>shoe-shine drones.

Tom: It's Underborg! Disguised as humble shoe-shine drone. . .

Mike: They'll shine shoes, and they'll LIKE IT VERY MUCH!

Crow: [Alex] Sure hope they fix the life support before they
left. . .

Mike: Funny, this is beginning to sound like the setup for
Enterprized!

Crow: Unfortunately, for Alexander, he was the one chosen to
dance in a hula skirt in front of the cube while singing
"Happy Talk."

Tom: Oh no, they've wanted onto the Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles Set!

Crow: And goggles, rebreathers, and so on were completely
forgotten.

Mike: Ooh. Sweating Klingons. Not Good.

Crow: [as Alexander] Setting the temperature to 74 ? How dare
they!

Tom: Ugh! Just so long as there's no baby oil involved.

Mike: My, what a pleasant image.

Tom: Be happy, the author got some emotional reaction beyond
boredom.

>Rounding a corner, and advancing to an intersection, the group
>found their targets. A Borg Drone just finished recharging,
>and several data conduits ran through the ceiling.

Mike: Hoping to escape the fanfic.

> Keying the
>return signals on the Transporter, the group took up their
>rifles. Pulling the trigger at one target after another,
>there was no beam to indicate the weapon's firing.

Mike: Saving up on the special effects budget, most likely....

> The only indication that they were hit, was that
>each of the Borg hit slumped over, the implants often pouring
>smoke.

Crow: Destroying valuable data and making them COMPLETELY
USELESS!

Tom: Great. If the freakin' *Borg* can't get reliable tech
support, what hope is there for the rest of us?!?

> The security team grabbed two
>Borg, beamed back to the Runabout two at a time, leaving Alex
>and Shayna alone, while the transporter recharged.

Crow: Make out time!

Crow: The dreaded "Drinky-Bird" effect!

> When the
>transporter became fully charged, Alex placed the rifle in
>overload, then beamed back to the Runabout, which flew back to
>the Enterprise.
>

Tom: Which promptly exploded when the rifle exploded. The end.

> The Romulan force of twenty ships was a welcome sight to
>behold, even more so as they blew up the damaged cube. The
>other ship was inactive since the Runabout ran away from it,
>about two hours ago.

All: [British voices] Run away! Run away!

Mike: After all, the Borg were so hard to shop for. . .

Crow: Wow! Two hours for full repairs of a ship?! Bet that
you'll never see a car repair place get it done that
fast!

>Casualties were light as only one or two ships met with the
>Borg cutting lasers. The Romulans were an unexpected
>addition, but were welcomed into the fleet.
>

Mike: Again, we have the olestra of action.

> In her throne room on the Borg cube, Marrissa was wailing
>like a banshee possessed by a demon who was about to be
>exorcised.

Mike: Exorcising the evil out of an evil being? Wouldn't that
make Marrissa good or something ?

Crow: But enough about Alanis Morissette...

Crow: Fortunately, for Marrissa, she had several clones of
herself premade to use to replace her appendages.

Mike: parts 2: the clonus horror in space.

Tom: What is this "in-ter-price"?

Mike: Ah, Marrissa's true personality shines through.

Tom: And Marrissa's acting like she did in "Away From Home". .

Crow: Yep, the Borg REALLY whiffed it with Captain PMS here.

> The Collective tried to have Marrissa see they
>couldn't destroy them yet, by pointing out that the Romulans
>had not been assimilated into the Collective yet.

Mike: Even though, technically, they had, back in chapter one.

> The Collective cringed in pain and Drones felt
>horror spread through them for the first time since their
>assimilation.

Crow: What do you *mean* they put "3rd Rock" opposite "Drew
Carey"?!?

Mike: Uh-oh, you know how long it's going to take to get to
Novell's tech support?

Mike: Marrissa - now the Overlord of the Galaxy.

Tom: Not quite yet, Mike ... she still has yet to take over the
Dominion or the Gamma Quadrant.

Mike: Please, Tom, don't give them ideas!

Tom: Which, we should note, is still futile.

Tom: The Borgs, they had a new queen, who wouldn't do as she
was told.
They offered her Cardassians and Romulans for slaying.
"The Federation it must be" was all that she was saying.
Those Borg, they tried to bribe her through offers of
spelunking.
She just shouted "No!" and started screaming and
krunking.

> The Science Lab had been
>completely refurbished to meet the needs of the newly acquired
>"guests". The middle of the room now had two stations that
>held the two Borg in the middle.

Crow: Stations? What kind? Workstations? Gas Stations?

Mike: And a pointy-haired Lt. Commander trying to read his
e-mail on the food replicators.

>Every so often, one of them would cast nervous glances at the
>two drones held in the force fields. There was no way they
>could get out of the fields, but that fact did little to calm
>the nerves of the group.

Tom: If you can't trust your own science, who *can* you trust ?

Mike: AOL connections?

Tom: [computer voice] Welcome! Resistance is futile! You've
got mail!

>Normal hookups couldn't be used in the process, for fear the
>Borg would gain access to the ships computer. The new hookups
>would link the drone to a neural net, that would then lead
>back to the ship computer. were completed,

Mike: Ok, and that's different HOW?

Mike: You mean, this is a Men In Black/X-Files crossover as
well?! AIE!

Crow: No, Jay's the dip!

Crow: Yeah, like trying to reprogram the Borg with COBOL is
going to help.

Mike: Probably still haven't fixed the year 2000 problem.

> "All right, judging from the logs Data used, the
>neural links will be connected in three stages. Data's neural
>net was much better at processing information then this
>replacement, but it shouldn't make that much of a difference."

Tom: [Jackie] I just said that since the author thinks Data is
so cool.

Crow: Like big cybernetic matroushkas.

> The relays between the Borg and the
>computer were not operating as well as it would if a link up
>between an android and the Collective was used. It began to
>show as the hookups, and the implants they were attached to,
>began to glow white hot.

Mike: Okay, okay I may not know much, but isn't it bad for the
Borg if their various cybernetic doohickies DON'T HAVE
FUSES!

> The emergency lights switched on as
>soon as Jackie reached the second link, and the Drone began to
>shake worse than someone with fifty shots of espresso under
>their belt.

Mike: "First Contact", starring Too-Much-Coffee Man!

> The force fields snapped into place at the last
>moment, just as the Drone overloaded and blew up. The neural
>net sat in its compartment and began to smoke and spark.

Crow: Ohh! They used a neural HAIR net, those dopes.

Tom: [as Jackie] Well, that went well. Who brought
marshmallows?

Tom: And a bigger boat.

> After attaining permission from Fleet Admiral Picard,
>the Enterprise broke fleet formation and warped for Omicron
>Theta.
>

Crow: [as Jay] We'll be back in a year! Seeya suckers!

> Within the hour, the Enterprise dropped out of warp beside
>the massive automated factory that managed to produce three
>Defiant class warships every month. Data extended his
>greetings to the young Rear Admiral,

Mike: In the middle of space, apparently...

Crow: Jay's going to ask Data for love advice?!

Crow: [Data] No, sorry, I missed that - I've been just so
caught up in this whole "kidnap/evil twin" storyline on
"Guiding Light".

> We've managed to capture two Drones, and were trying to
>hack into the Collective. The first try overloaded the link
>ups.

Mike: But we managed to tag the Pentagon, 4 NASA sites, and
the Mossad!

Tom: [Data] What is the term? Ah, yes - "AS IF!!!!"

Crow: How's a 2x4 going to help them hack into the Collective
anyway?

Tom: Actually, it was the battle of Time/Life.

Crow: Magazine was pitted against magazine in a horrible
conflict!

Crow: Mike, is this when Sinclair fights the Minbari?

Mike: No, it's where we fight the urge to leave.

Tom: I'd rather have my ass kicked by the Minbari.

> Three warbirds, two Klingon battle cruisers, a Stargazer
>carrier, two Sovereign Battleships, and seven Defiant class
>Destroyers were wiped out in the first volley.

Tom: Okay, that's seven stargazers, three Klingon Battleships,
a Defiant Sovereign, and, uh...

Crow: No, it was a cruiser, two Defiant Carriers, three
Destroyer class Klingon Stargazer Battleship Volleys,
and, and, ummmmm...

>On the Bridge of the Kirk, Fleet Admiral Picard ordered the
>fleet to fall back while striking at any areas they could.

Tom: Picard on the Kirk! We're into some slash now . . .

> This tactic failed, as any ship about to go into warp
>received an EMP Beam from one of the Borg cubes.
> "All ships, initiate plan Delta Armego One."

Tom: Apparently, Picard's made so many plans that he's now
forced to make Greek letters up.

> Picard yelled
>over the tactical net.
> The operative ships responded by using streams of anti-
>matter, like the saucer section did when the Enterprise-D
>attacked the very first Borg cube.

Tom: Haven't seen that episode or don't remember it? Tough!

Mike: Oh, no! The dreaded tickle beam!

Crow: "Tickle Me Borg", new from Playschool.

Tom: [as Borg] Ha. ha. ha. You will be assimilated.

Tom: Which had protected the Borg from all those iron
cannonballs they worried about.

Crow: [Borg] I am Norm of Borg. It is a targ eat targ universe
out there, and I am wearing Gagh underwear.

> grabbing ships with the tractor beams,
>and dissecting them with the cutting lasers. Instead of
>merely removing small plugs of the ships at once,

Mike: The ships decided on a tasteful toupee from the Shatner
line instead.

Tom: They're just floundering around out there.

Mike: Yeah, the Borg really kicked their bass.

Crow: And they did it on porpoise!

> The cubes also fired an occasional
>round of shield draining torpedoes. The Kirk dived and weaved
>through the amazing amount of debris from all the craft.

Tom: Well, Shatner always did know how to dodge around his
acting skills.

Mike: More hot statistical action!

Mike: Henson, not Hanson.

Tom: o/~ It's not easy being green. . . o/~

Tom: Remembre the priore occuerance that there was an
evasive manoeuvre?

Mike: Don't make fun of Canadian spelling.

> as the cutting lasers and tractor
>beams lanced from the three cubes. One was obviously heavily
>damaged, with large amounts of radiation leaking into space.
>The energy core could be hit with just the right amount of
>firepower, mused the Captain.

Mike: Whose name has been withheld pending an investigation.

> "Helm, position ourselves on a course towards the damaged
>cube. When we're on course, make the Henson look like a
>wayward piece of debris." ordered the Captain.

Tom: [as Captain] Just show them Fozzie the Bear's act, that'll
be dead enough...

Crow [Robot]: Stupid Asimov and his stupid laws . . .

Mike: I'm feeling a full impulse too, if you know what I mean.

> The Borg fired on the few
>remaining fleet ships, using a cutting laser to separate the
>saucer section of the hull from the rest of the ship, then
>using the same beam to slice off a Romulan Warp Nacelle.

Tom: Would that be the white meat or dark meat of a Warbird?

Mike: More nacelles! Drumsticks for everyone!

Crow: It's the USS Undertaker, then.

The End.
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Welcome, Won't You?

Hail to the Queen.

Original work by: Rob Tounts.

MiSTed by: Matt Blackwell, Doug Earlham, Michael K. Neylon, Bill Livingston, Steven Savage.

Edited by: Matt Blackwell.

Created on: Friday, 27 March 1998.

Added on: Monday, 22 September 2008.

Rated 5.00 with standard deviation 0.00 on 0 evaluations.

The End.
Keep Reading The Posts.

Rate this episode, if that's OK?

Welcome, Won't You?

Welcome, Won't You?

Hail to the Queen.

Original work by: Rob Tounts.

MiSTed by: Matt Blackwell, Doug Earlham, Michael K. Neylon, Bill Livingston, Steven Savage.

Edited by: Matt Blackwell.

Created on: Friday, 27 March 1998.

Added on: Monday, 22 September 2008.

Rated 5.00 with standard deviation 0.00 on 0 evaluations.

The End. Keep Reading The Posts.

Rate this episode, if that's OK?

Welcome, Won't You?

The End.
Keep Reading The Posts.