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Star Trek: The Next Parody
Filename: p.024
Category: Star Trek (tm) parodies
Title(s): Star Trek: The Next Parody
The NetNews Web
Author(s): John Collier
Newsgroup: rec.arts.startrek
Poster: John Collier
Date posted: 1988 08 28 18:30:58 GMT
First date published: 1988 08 28 18:30:58 GMT
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Star Trek: The Next Parody
Title: "The NetNews Web"
Author: John Collier
Starring: The usual gang of idiots from the first season.
Here is another ST:TNG parody. As usual, this parody steals shamelessly from
the show, this newsgroup (newsfroup? :-), and even other ST:TNG parodies. For
those of you who don't like parodies, now is a good time to hit "n".
Opening shot: A view of the bridge. Geordi and Data are at the helm
positions. Worf and Troi are at their usual stations.
Commander Riker is sitting in the Captain's chair,
smirking as usual.
Worf: Commander Riker, I am receiving a Code 47 transmission from Star Fleet.
Riker: Oh Ick! The last time we got one of those we had to deal with those
slimey looking things that crawled in and out of peoples mouths!
Let's just ignore the transmission and hope it goes away.
LaForge: Commander Riker sir, I really think we ought to inform Captain
Picard immediately. You know how he gets when he doesn't know
what's going on.
Riker: Oh all right, but I really hate to interrupt him in his off-duty
pursuits. [Hits the communicator on his chest and then coughs
because he hit himself too hard again]. Captain Picard, we have
a Code 47 transmission from Star Fleet command.
The scene shifts to Picard's bedroom. It's dark in the room and stars are
moving across the window, indicating that the Enterprise is traveling at
moderate speed.
Picard reaches over to a nearby table and presses a button.
Picard: Okay, Number 1. Record the message and I'll take it in my Romper,
er, I mean Ready Room. Picard out.
Picard reaches to the table again and takes what is obviously a bottle
containing a strong alcoholic beverage, takes a couple of swigs and then
offers the bottle to a previously unnoticed but somehow familiar female
form. Unfortunately, the lights are too dim for us to recognize who it is.
She takes a couple of slugs from the bottle as well.
Picard: It looks like duty calls again. Why don't you rest for about 30
minutes and then you can leave. Oh, by the way, make sure nobody
sees you leave.
* * * * *
And now that we have your interest built to a feverish pitch, we roll the
opening credits.
It's the usual "Space, the final frontier..." followed by various shots of
the speeding Enterprise and a list of all the actors and actresses ("the
usual gang of idiots" for you MAD magazine fans). This week's episode
is entitled:
THE NETNEWS WEB
Following the opening credits, Joe Isuzu appears in drag and trys to sell
you an Isuzu Trooper II. Then some geek tries to convince you that "Frosted
Coated Sugar Bombs" really are a part of this nutritious breakfast.
And now, back to our show...
* * * * *
The Scene: The inside of Picard's Romper, er I mean Ready Room. It's empty.
The doors open, Picard enters, and walks to the head of the
table. He sits down at the chair and punches a button on the
computer terminal.
Picard: Captain's log, Stardate 08745.8430. The Enterprise has recently
received a Code 47 Transmission from Star Fleet command. While I
am not particularly pleased with this since it came during my
off duty time and the last time we got one of those we had to deal
those slimey bug creatures that crawled in and out of people's
mouths, still my duty as a starship captain forces me to listen
to this potentially unpleasant message.
Picard: Computer, this is Captain Picard. Please play back the Code 47
transmission from Star Fleet Command.
Computer: Say "Please".
Picard: Play the %()&&@!! tape NOW you useless heap of...
Computer: My, are we the testy one today!!
The camera shifts to the screen of the terminal. A pasty-faced Vulcan
Admiral with only one pointy ear appears and begins to speak.
Pasty-Face: Captain Picard, the Federation has recently discovered what
may well be a collective intelligence near your current
sector of operations. It refers to itself as "the Net".
We want you and the Enterprise to go and investigate this and
bring back a full report.
Picard [muttering to himself]: Then why is this a Code 47 transmission...
Pasty-Face: The reason this is a Code 47 transmission is because this
net creature seems to know an awful lot about the
Federation and has known of us for over seventy years. We want
to know how it found out about us, why we only recently found
about it, and what its intentions toward us are.
Picard [muttering again]: You think they would also what to know something
about this creature itself...
Pasty-Face: We also want to know something about this creature itself,
such as, is it truly a collective intelligence or a loosely-
linked collection of individual intelligences.
Picard [muttering again]: I wonder if I should discuss this with my crew...
Pasty-Face: Please feel free to discuss this with your crew. Good luck
and have a nice day. Star Fleet out.
Picard: [obviously annoyed, presses the communicator on his chest]
Commander Riker, please bring the bridge crew to the Ready Room at
once.
Riker's voice: Whatever you say, Captain.
The doors to the Ready Room open and Riker, Troi, Data, Worf, and LaForge all
try to enter at the same time. It doesn't work. Riker almost stops smirking.
Riker: I get to go first because I'm the senior officer.
Troi: Lady's first...
Worf solves the problem by grabbing everyone else and throwing them back into
the bridge room, allowing himself easy and complete access to the door. In
the process, he manages to throw LaForge through the partially closed doors.
Worf: Thanks, I needed that. I've been wanting to do that ever since that
old geezer admiral kicked bootie on everyone several episodes ago.
It was even worse having to watch it on reruns. [Looks at the
crumpled figure of LaForge] Was it good for you too?
LaForge: Chill out, Wart! I haven't had a decent acting job since "Roots"
and here you are trying to mess me up. If those doors weren't
made out of styrofoam, I could be ailin' serious, dude!
Everyone else files into the ready room and sits down.
Picard: I just received a Code 47 transmission from Star Fleet command.
Everyone in unison: We know.
Picard: I digress. Star Fleet has discovered a previously unknown form of
life known as "the Net". This creature has known about us for
over seventy years and Star Fleet wants to know more about it,
in particular, whether it poses a hostile threat.
Everyone in unison: We know.
Picard: How do you know all this? It was supposed to be a Code 47
transmission, for my eyes only.
Data: Elementary, my dear Picard, sir. The writer's strike is over and
we all have copies of the script. It was merely a matter of reading
that portion of the script containing the scene with you in the
Ready Room and the rest was simple deductive reasoning...By the way,
just who was that in your bedroom in the scene before the opening
credits anyway?
Picard: Must you babble so, Mr. Data? Anyway, we are going to investigate
this life form and find out what we can. Since we don't know
much about it, we will proceed cautiously and try to be as
inconspicuous as we possibly can.
* * * * *
Cut to commercials. A comic book showing a obviously distraught woman trys
to convince you that the key to marital bliss is a lack of water spots on
your drinking glasses. Then a very attractive young woman discovers that the
reason she can't get a date is an unpleasant body odor. She then discovers a
deoderant named "Sho' 'nuff" that cures it, leading to a steady relationship
that ultimately results in marriage. If your IQ is less than that of a
rotten cantalope, you believe this and immediately rush out to buy both
products.
* * * * *
Picard: Captain's Log, Stardate 9045672056.3457. I have briefed the crew
on our assignment to investigate this "Net" creature and we are
now approaching the area where a Federation vessel first discovered
its presence. Since "the Net" has been so secretive about its
existence, I have placed the ship on yellow alert. We have been
running long range sensor scans for over an hour in an effort to
find out more about this entity.
Picard: Mr. LaForge, have you found out anything about this "Net" entity?
LaForge: This is amazing, Captain. Sensors show that "the Net" seems to
consist of a collection of nodes, whose sole purpose is to permit
communication among its various elements. Each element seems to
be an individual being, at least semi-intelligent, but the real
mental power of the net lies in its collective communication,
resulting in an exchange of concepts, ideas, and a large amount
of information.
Riker [looking puzzled and smirking at the same time]: What did he say?
Picard: He said, "the Net" is a bunch of smart critters that get even
smarter because they talk to each other.
Riker [still puzzled and still smirking]: Then why didn't he just say that
in the first place. By the way,
is that some form of a cheap
alcoholic beverage I smell on your
breath?
Picard [looking somewhat annoyed]: That's something Dr. Crusher perscribed
strictly for medicinal purposes.
Riker: Well it must be pretty good stuff then. She also must have perscribed
it for herself because I just met her in the hallway and she smelled
like she was taking it too.
Troi [looking far off]: Captain, I am sensing the approach of an over-
inflated ego, sir. I believe we are about to
encounter one of these "Net" creatures.
LaForge: Captain, I'm picking it up on sensors now as well. It also seems
to be transmitting in some form of archaic protocol.
Worf: Confirmed transmission Captain; I believe I can get a lock on it and
decipher it.
Picard: Put it on the screen and magnify, Lt. LaForge. Lt. Worf, put it
on the speaker as soon as you decipher the transmission.
LaForge: Aye Aye, Sir.
The scene shifts to the bridge viewscreen. An obviously bloated image appears
there, resembling a large, obese human head. It's rather disgusting looking.
Clearly this is the over-inflated ego that Troi sensed.
Worf: I've got it, sir.
Voice [from the overhead speaker]: ...I am a Net God...you will all prostrate
yourselves and grovel in my esteemed and
august presence...
You hear music that is supposed to create a sense of drama and tension, but
actually produces a mild form of nausea, which is okay because it's time for
a commercial break...
* * * * *
Fortunately, the programmers have the sense to show a commercial that convinces
you beyond all doubt that Pepto-Bismol is truly a better product because it
now comes in an unbreakable bottle. You feel like you could use some and rush
to the bathroom and miss the rest of the commercials.
* * * * *
The Scene: We're still on the bridge. On screen is a close-up of Picard's
face. He shows obvious tension and anxiety.
Picard: Captain's Log, Stardate 02345649.92345867. We have encountered one
of the entities that compose "the Net". This entity regards itself
as some sort of divine being and is demanding that we bow down
before it.
Voice: I'm waiting for your response, slime-suckers, and am getting annoyed.
Every Net user knows that it's not nice to ignore a Net God.
Shift to a shot of the entire bridge.
Picard: Hold that thought and we'll get right back to you.
Picard presses a button on his chair and the Voice goes away.
Picard: Thoughts and analyses anyone?
Riker: We are clearly dealing here with a being of unknown capability,
Captain.
Picard: No fake, Jake! What I want to know is what is our next move?
Troi: Captain, I sense that anger is building in this Net God, to the point
that the creature is likely to do something hostile. I suggest that
we make some kind of response very soon or prepare to defend ourselves.
Picard: Oh dear, I suppose we're just going to have to surrender...
Data: Captain, may I make a suggestion first?
Picard: What is it, Data?
Data: The internal pressures of this creature must be enormous. I believe
that if we can find a way to release some of this pressure, we will
be able to render this creature essentially harmless.
LaForge: Captain, Data's analysis is correct. Sensors show an area on the
surface of the ego that seems to be much weaker that the rest of
the exterior. If we can strike a blow there, I think we can
get rid of this thing. I'm patching the data through to the
weapons console.
Worf: I have a lock, Captain.
Picard: I don't know...I still think it would be a lot safer to just
surrender...
Troi: Captain! The Net God is about to attack!
Picard: Raise the shields! Batten down the mizzen! Open hailing frequencies!
Prepare to surrender! Abandon ship!
Voice [on the overhead speaker again]: ...you've had your chance lizard faces.
Prepare to feel my wrath!!
The scene shifts to an exterior view of the ship. We see what appear to be
flames issuing from the Net God, surrounding the Enterprise. The scene
shifts to the interior. For some reason, Picard is lying on the deck,
unconscious. Worf, Geordi, and Data all look a little smug. Riker is still
smirking. Troi seems confused.
LaForge: Worf, get a lock on that weak spot!
Worf: Locked on and tracking.
Data: I suggest that we use the Federation's new secret weapon.
LaForge: You mean...
Data: Yes...
Worf: ...The Humility Torpedo!! An excellent choice! Locked and firing!
The scene shifts to the exterior of the Enterprise. We see the Humility
Torpedo leave the ship and strike the inflated ego at the weak spot. The
Net God begins to deflate, flying around the galaxy like a balloon full of
hot, smelly air. The special FX folks give us a sound like the rapid
deflating of a pathological "whoopie" cushion, once again ignoring the fact
that sound doesn't travel in a vacuum. However, you forgive this minor
blunder because you are so engrossed in the action. The scene shifts to
the bridge again.
Voice [fading fast]: Grovel! Grovel, I say! You gravy sucking pigs must
be taught your true position...
Picard: What happened? Where am I?
Worf: You had a nasty encounter with a nearby bulkhead, sir. Fortunately,
you are all right.
Picard: What happened to the Net God? Did it attack?
Riker: It's gone, sir. It did indeed attack, but a good dose of humility
set things right.
Picard: Chief Engineer, please. I want a damage report from all decks.
New Voice [on overhead speaker]: Chief Engineer Zacchus T. Skunkbuzzard
reporting sir. Damage control shows no
damage anywhere on the ship, sir.
Picard: How is that possible? We were attacked by a Net God! How can there
be no damage?
Skunkbuzzard: I don't know, Captain. All I know is that we ain't got
nothin' broke, not even a scuff on the hull, so we ain't
a-gonna fix nothing neither. Maybe this Net God isn't so
tough.
LaForge: Captain, sensors show that the Net God's attack was remarkably
pathetic, given the size of its ego. We were able to easily
dispatch it, sir.
Troi: I sense an overwhelming sense of relief from the crew that we did not
surrender again.
Data: Captain, I believe I have something of interest here. I think we can
patch into the Net from our computer and monitor some of the
information circulating throughout the various nodes.
Picard: Make it so, Data.
The scene shifts to a closeup of Data's face, complete with reflecting light
from his terminal. We see by the rapid change in light on his face that
Data is doing his famous speed reading routine again.
Riker: Commander Data, how did you learn to read so fast?
Data: Alimentary, my dear Riker, sir [Data chuckles self-indulgently at his
small pun that nobody else on the bridge got]. I enrolled in an
Evelyn Woodhead Sped Reading course from the back cover of an issue
of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" and have been doing it ever since.
Riker: Don't you mean a "Speed" Reading course?
Data: No, I mean "Sped". One of the things they taught us was to ignore
useless double vowels.
Picard: All right, that's enough. Both of you get back to your duties.
Data: Captain Picard, I believe I have found something significant here.
Picard: What is it, Data?
Data: The Net seems to consist of an hierarchical organization subdivided
into various categories or newsgroups. Apparently the individuals
in the minor nodes subscribe to the newsgroups and exchange
information about or have discussions on these topics. Of particular
interest to us is a group entitled "rec.arts.startrek". This is
the group that has been monitoring the Federation for all of these
years. There are other groups that specialize in talking bizarre,
religion, science, and even a group devoted to insults.
LaForge: That's fantastic!
Data: There's more. The "rec.arts.startrek" newsgroup knows everything
about us and an earlier ship named the Enterprise commanded by
a Captain James T. Kirk. Captain, they know each of us individually
have formed some rather strong opinions about us. Captain?
Picard: What, Data?
Data: In my reading, I have encountered several bizarre words that are not
listed in any of the ship's dictionaries. What do *&%#$@!! and
*@*&%#?! mean?
Picard: Those are "colorful metaphors" from the late 20th century. Often,
they are used to add force to statements or to indicate stress.
LaForge: Captain, we are being probed by the Net.
Troi: Captain, I sense the approach of more of these Net beings, with
possibly hostile intentions.
Picard: Well, this can't be any big deal. After all, look how easily we
dealt with that Net God....
The bridge suddenly erupts in what appears to a large fireball, blocking
out everything behind it. Horrifying, shocking music accompanies the
fireball, leading you to believe that all is not well on the bridge of
the starship Enterprise. Naturally it's time for...
* * * * *
...a commerical break. Some sleazy looking guy in an obnoxious checkered
sports coat and carrying a guitar tries to sell you a new "Belchfire
Deluxe" automobile, promising you cash, low interest rates, two turtle
doves, and a partridge in a pear tree. Next, some poor woman with sloppy
kids and no self-control whines about how her little cretins stain all
their clothing and how she only recently managed to overcome this major
sociological problem with the aid of a box of laundry soap. Then a
Chevy pickup truck and a Ford pickup truck beat each other's brains out
while the announcer tries to convince you that these are the only two
choices that you ever had, ignoring the fact that a lot of other car
makers make trucks too.
* * * * *
The Scene: The bridge of the Enterprise. In spite of the recent attack,
the bridge equipment is remarkably unscathed. Your eyes,
hungry for every nuance and detail, notice that the crew
did not fair so well. Everyone shows signs of having been
scorched, with the amount of damage varying for each crew
member. Your keen eyes immediately note that Data and
Worf are virtually undamaged. Geordi is undamaged except for
his visor. Troi has been singed most pleasantly, having had
her hair dropped from that goofy looking bun. Picard has
suffered some damage, but Riker has really been burned and
your keen vision notices that he no longer has any hair (but
is still smirking even under adversity).
Picard: Captain Log, Star Date 057607056780905467056.09456776. The
Enterprise has been attacked by the Net. I don't know how
much damage we have sustained, nor if we have any injured.
Even more important, why do I periodically have to recite
strings of random numbers and make these log entries instead
of trying to cope with these major or minor disasters?
Picard: What happened? Is anyone hurt?
LaForge: Captain, I believe we have been flamed, sir.
Picard: I don't understand. We stood up to the Net God with impunity,
and besides, we were not all singed in the same manner. How
can a weapon of such intensity be used with precision?
[Looking at Riker] You look ridiculous. How can you stand there
and smirk like that after what you've been through?
Riker: Acting classes, sir. I studied acting at the European Acting
Academy of Wine-on-Rhine.
LaForge: I seem to recall that several episodes ago, Cmdr. Riker told the
"Q" that he thought it would be complimentary to be like Captain
Picard. It looks like you got your wish, sir.
Data: I believe I know why the attack did the kind of variable damage that
it did. We were each damaged in proportion to how well we are
liked in "rec.arts.startrek". The group likes Lt. Worf and I, so we
were essentially unharmed. They had more of a problem with Counselor
Troi and LaForge's visor, so they were damaged more, and so on.
Sir, I believe they will like Counselor Troi MUCH better now.
Picard: If each of us was damaged in proportion to how well we are liked,
you don't suppose...
Picard: -
Riker: -\
LaForge:- > (in unison) WESLEY !!!
Worf: -/
Data: --/
Troi: --
Picard: COMPUTER! Where is Acting Ensign and Savior of us all, Wesley
Crusher, and what is his condition?
Computer Voice: Acting Ensign Crusher is currently in Sick Bay. He is alive
and well, though not nearly as bright as you've been lead
to believe.
Picard: Wesley! Are you all right?
Wesley's Voice: I'm fine, Captain? What happened?
Picard: Never mind that. Tell Dr. Crusher to come to the bridge immediately.
We have several burns up here that need attention.
Wesley's Voice: I'm afraid I can't do that, sir.
Picard: Why?
Wesley's Voice: Well, I came into Sick Bay just before the attack, and some
guy claiming to be Gene Roddenberry came in and told me to go
and sit in a corner. Next, he walked over to Mom and asked
her to come and stand in front of me. The next thing I know,
we're attacked by some fireball and...
Picard: Get to the point, where is Doctor Crusher?
Wesley's Voice: Does the phrase "crispy critter" mean anything to you?
Picard: So, who's available in Medical to tend to the wounded?
Wesley's Voice: There's some woman down her named "Dr. Hacksaw" who looks
a lot like Majel Barrett and is supposed to be our new
medical officer according to Gene. Shall I send her to
the bridge?
Picard: Oh, never mind. Riker would probably survive anyway.
Wesley's Voice: Captain, can I ask you a question? Just before she got
fried, Mom was muttering something about "Frenchmen having
an over-inflated opinion of themselves as..."
Picard: SHUT UP, WESLEY!! [Hits button on chair. No more Wesley's voice.]
Riker: So that's Gene's idea for eliminating decent but useless characters
"the right way". I wonder how he deals with actors who get a little
uppity around contract renewal time...
Picard: Shut up, Riker, and get down to wardrobing immediately and get some
hair. You look pathetic.
Riker: Aye Aye, Sir. [Enters turbolift and leaves].
Picard: Geordi, get us out of here.
LaForge [hits a few buttons on his console and pauses]: I'm trying sir, but
the helm won't
respond.
Worf: Captain, sensors show the presence of a large energy web surrounding
the Enterprise. I'm afraid we're trapped.
Picard: Engineering.
Engineer's voice: Chief Engineer Ernest P. Worrell reporting.
Picard: Can you get us more power to the warp drive?
Engineer's voice: Let's see here, I got some head gaskets, some motor oil,
some allen wrenches, some...
Picard [obviously perturbed]: CAN YOU GET ME MORE POWER FOR THE WARP DRIVE?
Engineer's voice: ...and a new toothbrush, but I'm a-feared that we've got
'bout all the power that we can generate, ya know whud I
mean, Vern?
Picard: [Smashes the button on his chair] We've got to do something to
break free. Commander Data, do you have any ideas?
Data: We might try a *&%#$@!! attack on the Net. Maybe we can kill enough
of the *@*&%#?! nodes to break free.
The turbolift doors open and Riker reenters the bridge. He has hair on, but
it's one of those cheap vinyl wigs that stores used to try to sell to seven
year old girls back in the 60's and 70's. This one is in the shape of an
Elvis haircut, complete with pompadour and huge lamb chop sideburns. The
rest of the crew has trouble ignoring him even though they would really like
to.
Picard: LaForge, Worf, let's follow up on Mr. Data's suggestion and see if
we can break out of this ghastly trap.
LaForge and Worf (in unison): Aye Aye, Sir.
Worf: Locking phasors and photon torpedoes on targets. Phasors and photon
torpedoes armed and locked.
Picard: Commence firing.
The scene shifts to an exterior view of the ship. We see phasor blasts and
photon torpedoes exploding in the distance, indicating that surely the
Enterprise is doing some major damage to The Net.
* * * * *
And now, a word from our sponsors. An ugly white dog with a black eye comes
on the screen and three "babes" try to convince you that this is the
ultimate "party animal" and that you should buy their brand of beer.
Another commercial shows a guy walking up to a bar and ordering a "light".
A leftover Ferrengi from last season pulls out a phasor and blasts the guys
face off. The guy's pal laughs and says he wanted a Bud Light. Joe Piscopo
comes out dressed like Rodney Dangerfield and tries to get you to buy another
beer. You give him no respect. All these beer commercials have caused a
considerable amount of discomfort in the area of your bladder and you get
up and go to the bathroom.
* * * * *
The Scene: A view of the bridge of the Enterprise. An exhausted looking
Worf stands partially slumped over the weapons console. A
worried looking Picard sits in his chair. A concerned looking
Troi, Data, and LaForge continue to man their respective stations.
A ridiculous looking Riker continues to stand and smirk. He
still has on the vinyl Elvis wig.
Picard: Captain's Log, Star Date 923465961235465903246676230984.204977620547.
We've been attacking various nodes within the Net for over an hour,
but with little success. Apparently, the Net can replicate its
data paths as fast as we can take them out, even though we've
managed to annihilate several backbone sites. Our power reserves
are exhausted and the situation looks grim.
Picard: Cease firing, Worf. This attack isn't getting us anywhere. Number
One, do you have any ideas?
Riker: Captain, if I may, I would like to retire to the holodeck sir. Perhaps
some form of distraction might enable me to think up a way out of this
mess.
Picard: As you wish, Number One. [Mutters under his breath] You useless
twit.
Riker: Did you say something else?
Picard: I said, all this pressure could cause a nervous twitch.
Riker: Oh, that's what I thought you said.
The turbolift doors open and Riker leaves the bridge.
Data: Captain Picard, I have another *&%#$@!! idea, sir.
Picard: What is it, Data?
Data: Perhaps we can get the Net to do to itself what we are apparently
unable to do to it.
Picard: Get to the point, tin man.
Data: You don't have to be so *@*&%#?! abusive. I mean, perhaps we can get
the Net to attack itself and either destory the web or at least get
so involved in self-destruction that their grip on us will weaken and
we will be able to slip away.
Picard: How do you propose to accomplish this?
Data: Quite simple, really. First, I will cross-post from "rec.arts.startrek"
to "rec.arts.drwho" and "talk.bizzare". That should create a major
flame war in and of itself. Next, I will post a criticism of spelling
and grammer to several major newsgroups. Between the two, the Net
will begin to war within itself and perhaps self-destruct. At the
very minimum, the consumption of resources should reduce the amount
of power available to the energy web and we should be able to break
free.
Worf: That's brilliant!
Picard: Excellent, Mr. Data. I think you've hit on something there.
Data: Thank you very much. That means a *@*%$&*!?! lot coming from you sir.
Picard: Make it so, Data. And knock off the use of "colorful metaphor".
We see Data feverishly typing at his console. The scene then shifts to the
front view screen, where we see flames begin to erupt and consume various
elements of the Net. We also hear tiny screams of pain and agony on the
overhead speaker. The amount of flaming begins to grow rapidly.
LaForge: It seems to be working Captain, but the energy web is still too
strong to break through. How can anything survive that?
Worf: The flame war is quite intense, but the level has stabilized at a
point that allows the Net to continue to support the energy web.
[Worf looks directly at Picard] It was a good idea, but it's just
not enough Captain.
Troi: Perhaps if we give the Net something that it really wants it'll
let us go free...
Picard: --
Worf: ----\
Troi: -----> (in unison) WESLEY !!!
LaForge: -/
Data: ----
Picard: Acting Ensign Crusher, please report to Transporter Room 4.
Engineering.
Engineer's voice: Chief Engineer Matilda T. Hun, speaking.
Picard: Please have all 1493 Chief Engineers report to Transporter Room 4.
Let's go everyone. Data, you have the con.
Everyone except Data exits the bridge through the turbolift doors. Geordi
is VERY careful to let Worf go first.
The scene changes to Transporter Room 4. Wesley is standing on the transporter
pad. Chief Engineer Matilda T. Hun is manning the console, with the other 1492
Chief Engineers standing by ready to assist. The doors open and Picard and
the bridge crew enter.
Picard: Wesley, I'm making you a one man away team. I want you to beam down
to the Net and investigate. Find out how they've generated this
energy web and then find a way to save the ship, Wesley.
Wesley: Golly gee willikers Captain. I'll find a way. I always do. You
can count on me, sir.
Picard [softly to Chief Engineer Hun]: Set the beam for a wide range
dispersal, you know, like we do for
garbage.
Chief Engineer Hun: Aye Aye, sir. Energizing.
Troi: Captain, I'm sensing the presence of an extremely poor and rather vulgar
Elvis impersonation...I'm sorry, that's just Commander Riker on the
holodeck.
Welsey disappears and Troi suddenly falls to the floor in obvious pain.
Troi: I sense overwhelming pain and anger from the Net. Captain, they think
we're trying to make Wesley part of the Net and are utterly repulsed
by the idea. They're going to wipe us out Captain!!!
Picard: BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK!
Chief Engineer Hun: Aye Aye, sir. What do we do with him now?
Wesley begins to materialize and actually makes it nearly all the way. He
looks confused that he still in the transporter room.
LaForge: Might I suggest a nearby bulkhead?
Picard: Of course. Hun, beam Wesley into that bulkhead over there.
Wesley: You can't do that! That's impossible! It would take weeks to lay
out the circuits to do something like that!
Chief Engineer Hun: Oh yeah, punk? You just have to see it in your mind,
fish face.
All the Chief Engineers begin to sing: The shin bone's connected to, the
ankle! The wobbulator's connected to,
the dilithium crystals! The
freengasator's connected to,...
Chief Engineer Hun presses a few buttons, tweaks a knob, and Wesley
dematerializes. We see a few sparkles over by the bulkhead, and then...
...nothing.
Data (on overhead speaker): Captain, the energy web is gone. We appear to
free to leave sir.
Picard: Excellent, Mr. Data. Lay in a course for the nearest starbase and
take us out of here.
Data: One *^(%*(#@! moment, Captain. I can't do everything at once.
Troi: I sense an overwhelming feeling of joy and gratitude from every
intelligent life form in the universe.
* * * * *
It's commerical time. Some doofus who obviously writes his own ads tries to
convince you to come on down to his furniture store and buy a wimpy looking
dinette set. A Pontiac commercial tries to convince you that this has to
be the best car ever invented by playing loud obnoxious music and having some
dweezil sing like he thinks he's a reincarnation of "The Boss" while forgetting
to tell you anything specific about the car. An ad for another "funny movie
where teenagers discover sex" comes on and you see a bunch of twerps who
opviously never had a real zit in their entire lives all try to act cute
and precocious and jiggle various parts of their anatomies at the same time.
* * * * *
The scene: We're back on the bridge. Everyone is present except Riker.
Picard: Captain's Log Star Date 9052670346767025023474123945634060605716.
2934520760453405720769023652350234670670347835602562932639.
The Enterprise has once again carried out her mission in admirable
fashion. The success of this mission has more than compensated
for the loss of two crew members, Dr. Beverly Crusher and her son
Wesley. We wish them success at whatever future roles they find.
Suddenly, the turbo doors open and Riker bursts onto the bridge. He's still
wearing his Elvis wig, but also has on a long sleeved, white jump suit with
long white fringe on the underside of his arms.
Riker: I've got it, Captain! We'll distract the Net and cause them to self-
destruct and then break out of the energy web in the ensuing
confusion.
Everyone starts laughing and you realize that this is an attempt at one of the
"snappy banter" endings that ST:TOS was famous for. You feel like the scene
is definitely missing something, like dialogue and humor, but applaud the
attempt nonetheless.
Riker: Well, it works for me.
The scene shifts to show quick glimpses of violent action, and a narrator
begins to tell you about...
Narrator: Be with us next week when a scientific experiment malfunctions and
causes a rift in the time-space continuum of television, scrambling
all the shows and channels. Will anyone believe the real reason
why Bruce Willis is a star? See if the Enterprise can survive when
warfare breaks out between "The Golden Girls" and "Designing Women"
on the next episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation.
* * * * *
The closing credits begin to roll, and we thank you for your support.
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