Virtual Illusions

1. If your “significant other” leaves town for more than a week,
   sleep with whomever you want. After all, you can’t be expected to wait
   around forever.

2. Never sleep with your boss or coworker. Just kidding. You should
   do both, often.

3. A good way to unwind after a hard day at the office is to build
   a fire, curl up with a good book, and rapidly drink seven large
   glasses of straight vodka.

4. Every once in a while, just go ahead and slap somebody in the
   face, really hard.

5. Pretend you’re pregnant.

6. Feeling a little insecure? Buy a gun!

7. If marriage isn’t working, consider a divorce. If divorce isn’t
   convenient, fake your own death.

8. Don’t walk too fast when feigning blindness.

9. Never base a relationship on lies and deceit. Just kidding! Dishonesty
   should be an integral part of any relationship.

10. When you leave someone to die of carbon monoxide poisoning, be
    sure to shut the door tightly on your way out.

11. Don’t date drug dealers…unless they’re really good-looking…
    or have a lot of money…or unless you can gain something from it
    in some way…or…oh hell, go ahead and date drug dealers.

12. Don’t get too close to people in comas. Sometimes they wake up
    and try to choke you.

13. If you get fired, get drunk.

14. Call your ex-wife “Baby.”

15. If you’ve got to fix your Harley, you might as well take off
    your shirt and do it by the pool.

16. Randomly insult the people around you.

17. Parents will be parents. Sometimes they’ll nag. Sometimes
    they’ll be judgmental. Sometimes they’ll commit you to a
    miserable insane asylum where you’ll be bound in a
    straightjacket and heavily sedated.

18. If you lose your job, wait a few minutes and you’ll get an even
    better job at twice the salary.

19. A good way to aggravate your sister is to tell her that Mom
    liked you best. Another good way is to sleep with her husband a
    bunch of times.

20. Just because you’re in the midst of ruining someone’s career doesn’t
    mean that you can’t carpool to work with them.

Fiction, Relationship

Your Jedi robe is a Camouflage color.

You have ever used your Light Saber to open a bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill.

You think the best use of your light saber is picking your teeth.

At least one wing of your X-Wing is primer colored.

There is a blaster rack in the back of your landspeeder.

You have bantha horns on the front of your landspeeder.

You can easily describe the taste of an Ewok.

You can find no grammatical errors in the way Yoda talks.

You have ever had an X-wing up on blocks in your yard.

You ever lost a hand during a light-saber fight because you had to spit.

The worst part of spending time on Dagoba is the dadgum skeeters.

Wookiees are offended by your B.O.

You have ever used the force to get yourself another beer so you didn’t have to wait for a commercial.

You have ever used the force in conjunction with fishing/bowling.

You have ever used a light-sabre to clean fish or open a non-twist-off bottle of beer.

Your father has ever said to you, “Shoot, son come on over t’ the dark side…it’ll be a hoot.”

You have ever had your R-2 unit use its self-defense electro-shock thingy to get the bar-b-q grill to light.

Fiction, Regional

---

Written by Scott Adams, published in “The Dilbert Future” by HarperBusiness.
Copyright United Media, 1997. Please keep this notice with the text if you
forward it by e-mail.

---

There are so many Star Trek(tm) spin-offs that it is easy to fool yourself
into thinking that the Star Trek vision is an accurate vision of the future.
Sadly, Star Trek does not take into account the stupidity, selfishness, and
horniness of the average human being. Allow me to describe some of the more
obvious errors in the Star Trek vision.

Medical Technology

On Star Trek, the doctors have handheld devices that instantly close any
openings in the skin. Imagine that sort of device in the hands of your
unscrupulous friends. They would sneak up behind you and seal your butt shut
as a practical joke. The devices would be sold in novelty stores instead of
medical outlets. All things considered, I’m happy that it’s not easy to close
other people’s orifices.

Transporter

It would be great to be able to beam your molecules across space and then
reassemble them. The only problem is that you have to trust your co-worker to
operate the transporter. These are the same people who won’t add paper to the
photocopier or make a new pot of coffee after taking the last drop. I don’t
think they’ll be double-checking the transporter coordinates. They’ll be
accidentally beaming people into walls, pets, and furniture. People will spend
all their time apologizing for having inanimate objects protruding from parts
of their bodies.

‘Pay no attention to the knickknacks; I got beamed into a hutch yesterday.’
If I could beam things from one place to another, I’d never leave the house.
I’d sit in a big comfy chair and just start beaming groceries, stereo
equipment, cheerleaders, and anything else I wanted right into my house. I’m
fairly certain I would abuse this power. If anybody came to arrest me, I’d
beam them into space. If I wanted some paintings for my walls, I’d beam the
contents of the Louvre over to my place, pick out the good stuff, and beam
the rest into my neighbor’s garage.

If I were watching the news on television and didn’t like what I heard, I
would beam the anchorman into my living room during the commercial break,
give him a vicious wedgie, and beam him back before anybody noticed. I’d
never worry about ‘keeping up with the Joneses,’ because as soon as they got
something nice, it would disappear right out of their hands. My neighbors
would have to use milk crates for furniture. And that’s only after I had all
the milk crates I would ever need for the rest of my life. There’s only one
thing that could keep me from spending all my
time wreaking havoc with the transporter: the holodeck.

Holodeck

For those of you who only watched the ‘old’ Star Trek, the holodeck can
create simulated worlds that look and feel just like the real thing. The
characters on Star Trek use the holodeck for recreation during breaks from
work. This is somewhat unrealistic. If I had a holodeck, I’d close the door
and never come out until I died of exhaustion. It would be hard to convince
me I should be anywhere but in the holodeck, getting my oil massage from
Cindy Crawford and her simulated twin sister.

Holodecks would be very addicting. If there weren’t enough holodecks to go
around, I’d get the names of all the people who had reservations ahead of me
and beam them into concrete walls. I’d feel tense about it, but that’s
exactly why I’d need a massage.

I’m afraid the holodeck will be society’s last invention.

Sex with Aliens

According to Star Trek, there are many alien races populated with creatures
who would like to have sex with humans. This would open up a lot of
anatomical possibilities, but imagine the confusion. It’s hard enough to have
sex with human beings, much less humanoids. One wrong move and you’re
suddenly transported naked to the Gamma Quadrant to stand trial for
who-knows-what. This could only add to performance anxiety. You would never
be quite sure what moves would be sensual and what moves would be a
galactic-sized mistake.

Fiction

By Greg “Asterisk” Muir
p008536b@pbfreenet.sef lin.lib.fl.us

One day when I had more time on my hands than was good for me I decided to write a cross-over script for Babylon 5 and Animaniacs. Since the chances of such a script going into production are equal to that of the Necronomicron being named the feel-good book of the year, you should feel perfectly safe in reading this. I hope you enjoy it.

Babbling On 5-0

Scene 1

(Pan in on B5 ala show intro; Yakko narrates voice-over introduction)

The Babbling on Project was a dream given form (more like a nightmare), a home for a whole bunch of people, five miles long (nyah, nyah, a Super Star Destroyer is SIX miles long), located in neutral territory. (Neutral as opposed to what, negative?) A port of call for diplomats, hustlers, playboys, itinerant sanitation workers and disgruntled Star Trek writers. It was the dawn of the Third Age of Mankind (wait, wasn’t the 70’s considered an age?)

Dot: (disgusted PU tone voice-over) Of bad fashion.

Yakko: Aaah, ok. Dawning Third Age of Mankind, the year the Great War came upon us all.

(Beavis and Butthead pop up on screen)

Beavis: Heh-heh. Gwar rocks.

Butthead: Huh-huh. Gwar kicks a–

Yakko: War! War, you freaks! War!

Butthead: War is like, huh-huh, killing things and stuff. That’s cool.

Yakko: There’s an airlock over there, get inside and press the button marked “air cycle.”

(Beavis and Butthead walk off-screen. Sound of a door whooshing shut. Great wind sound, lots of screaming, saying “this sucks!”)

Yakko: Yes, sudden decompression does suck. As I was saying, the Great War came upon us all. This is the story of the last of the Babbling On stations. The year is really far in the future. The name of the place is Babbling On 5-0.

(The intro continues with the shot of the 5 outline zooming backwards with different scenes shown in it. The problem is that all of the scenes are from Buck Rogers.)

Text blurb on screen: We the Management apologize for the inconvenience. The people responsible for the film editing have just been sacked.

(The intro continues, this time as a countdown from 5 to 1 and then in very big letters proclaims “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Contact!”.)

Levar Burton: (disgustingly cheery voice): Hi! I’m visiting from Reading Painbow so we can all learn how the special effects are done on my show Star Drek!

Text blurb on screen: We the Management again apologize for this inconvenience. The people responsible for sacking the film editors have themselves just been sacked.

(The intro continues, appearing to be normal this time at first. Note: in letterboxed format, just like the show)

Close-ups on following actors, their names appearing beneath them. Beneath the names subtitles appear with Swedish letters (the weird lines and stuff through the vowels)

(Delenn nodding her head, smiling slightly) Dingalenn

Come to Sweden!

(Lennier holding Triluminary with flame, looking solemn) Lenny

Come enjoy our phone systems, public restrooms…

(G’kar looking surprised.) G’karp

the majestik moose.

(Na’toth smiling a patronizing smile) Natooth Fairy

Did you know my sister got bitten by a moose?

(Vir sticking his head out as if trying to hear better) Vir Cottage Cheese

Moose bites can be quite painful!

(Londo laughing heartily in a disturbing manner) Londo Calrissian

I should know! Mooses bite me all the time.

Text blurb on screen: The people responsible for sacking the people responsible for sacking the editors have just been sacked. We have totally redone the introduction sequence at great expense, hiring only the finest pedigree hunting dog with which to do so.

(Background is formal lecture hall. Newt shows up on screen, arranges papers, gets ready to read.)

Newt: (to himself) Harumph, cuuuuuuuuzzk! Throat clear, mind clear, focus on the reading.

(Opens mouth to read, it then drops to the floor as Minerva saunters by, goes off-screen. He whistles wolfishly, barks several times, gets ready to run after her, pausing in the position with arms raised on one foot that most toons pose in as they ready to run off after fast land birds when he is stampeded by a mad mob of other male toons.)

Text blurb on screen: The Management hereby gives up.

Scene 2

(External, tugs are seen moving a battered ship into the station’s zero-g docking bay. The ship is nestled into a bay, armed security guards are seen ringing it, looking very worried, since this seems much like the beginning of many a sci-fi/horror movie. Workers in environmental suits use torches to cut through the jammed airlock of the ship. Viewpoint moves to inside of the ship as the torches cut a rough opening. The workers step in carefully, walking over to stasis cocoons sitting over in the corner. They wipe the frost from the glass near where the head should be. They see Wakko lying there, looking death-like. He then pushes his face up to the glass and makes a googie-face. The worker screams madly and runs off as all three cocoons pop open and the Warners leap to the floor.)

Yakko: What’s the matter with him? He’s acting like he just saw a bunch of kids jump out of hibernation cocoons.

Dot: That was sad, Yakko.

(Yakko shrugs)

(Wakko poking around behind the cocoons)

Wakko: Ah’m hungry!

(Finds Alien egg. The trifold top opens, begins to smoke. He promptly grabs it, tosses it into the air and eats it. Burps.)

Wakko: Ow, acid heartburn.

Yakko: C’mon, sibs! Let’s explore this neat place we’ve found!

(They exit the ship. Outside the frightened security people point their PPGs at the Warners. Dot, in Hippie garb, races by the barrels sticking flowers in them.)

Garibaldi: Lou, we need backup, now! (Points snub-nose PPG at the three.)

Yakko: (dignified supreme alien ambassador tone) Stay your hand, Earthling. We come in peace. We are the Warner Brothers, Yakko and Wakko.

Dot: I am the Warner Sister, Princess Angelina Francisca Contesca Banana nana fo Fanna Fresca Leia III, but you may call me Princess Angelina Francisca Contesca Banana nana fo Fanna Fresca Leia III.

Garibaldi: (taken aback) Okaaaaay… (tries to seize the initiative) I haven’t seen anything like you before. Are you from the Non-Aligned Worlds? What exactly is your alignment?

Wakko: Alignment? Chaotic Evil, I think.

Yakko: (aside to Wakko) No, Wakko. He means “what planet are we from?”, and more specifically “what other races do you have military alliances with, and would shooting you in a mindless display of human aggression cause a war with them?”

Wakko: Oh.

Yakko: We are from the Warner Studio. We have journeyed long and far to arrive at this place, where it is we aren’t exactly sure.

Garibaldi: You guys are new ambassadors, I guess. Great. Ok, look, I’ll set up an interview with Captain Sheridan so you… whatever you are, can go about setting up a diplomatic mission here or whatever.

Yakko: Thank you, authority figure. Come, siblings. We shall meet this Sheridan.

Garibaldi: (muttered to self) Now I remember why I didn’t join the Diplomatic Corps.

Scene 3

(Sheridan talking in background, camera pans around the room catching the different ambassadors (all of them are present) as the good Captain explains what is going on.)

Sheridan: (smiling overly much as usual) Over 50 years ago the Earth Force ship Santa Maria was lost in a jump drive failure. It was one of the first of the Columbus-class deep space exploration vessels, the predecessor of the modern Explorer-class. Jump drive failures for us were quite common then and we had believed it to be destroyed. Imagine our sunrise when a Starfury patrol found it derelict several parsecs from here. Earth Force salvage teams brought the ship back here to Babylon 5 so that we could determine what happened to the ship. When the salvage team cut through into the ship’s damaged airlock they must have tripped the thaw mechanism on the emergency hibernation cocoons. Inside these cocoons were three aliens of an unknown species. They call themselves the Warners and they say they’re from Warnerstudio. As with most aliens we meet, they’re perfectly capable of speaking human languages, specifically English. We don’t know how they got their hands on the ship and we don’t know when it got where it did without our detecting it before now.

Londo: (Interrupts) May I interject? (Continues, not waiting for answer.) I find it fascinating that after your last experience with a derelict ship, one which happened to carry some sort of violent shadow monster, that you brought another mysterious ship aboard. Once bitten twice stupid, yes? Now that they are here, what do you propose to do with them?

Sheridan: (smiling through clenched teeth) As I was about to say, Ambassador, they’re of an unknown race with unknown technology, political structure, etc. To be safe I propose that we treat them as ambassadors from Warnerstudio. Hopefully we can open a meaningful diplomatic relation with them and avoid any of the little accidents that usually accompany First Contact situations.

Delenn: I would call the killing of our Leader a bit more than an “accident”, Captain.

Sheridan: Oh, our bad. How stupid of us not to think that a huge alien ship in a First Contact situation would power up it’s weapons and open it’s gun ports in a sign of friendship, not imminent hostility.

Delenn: Flatskull!

Sheridan: Bonehead!

Londo: (takes large swig from his ever present drink, clears his throat) Children! The petty insults and arguments are comic relief reserved exclusively for myself and G’Kar. Now I believe we were discussing the opening of a diplomatic mission with these Warners?

Sheridan: Ah, yes. I have invited the Warners to this joint meeting of the Council so that they might see if they wish to join. They should be arriving at any minute. Ah, here they are now.

(Door slides open and two security guards enter, flanking either side of the door. Following them come the Warners. Yakko is dressed like a late 19th century British dignitary, with monocle, top hat and cultured accent. Dot is done up in a Princess Leia outfit. Wakko is wearing a suit top and a somewhat silly noble expression, like a foppish pianist about to perform in front of thousands.)

Sheridan: (beaming broadly) On behalf of the Earth Alliance government and the Babylon 5 Council I welcome you to Babylon 5. Your presence here is a great honor.

Yakko: (dignified voice) I’m sure. (does a “great idea” take, enthusiastic voice) Hey, can we stop by Quark’s Place once we’re done?

Sheridan: (confused) Ah, quark? As in subatomic particle?

Yakko: Nooo. Quark, as in the shady Ferengi bartender. I wanna go hang out with the Dabbo girls. (gets close to Sheridan, elbows him in the side and whispers conspiratorially) you know, helloooo Dabbo?

Sheridan: I don’t believe we have anybody by the name of Quark here. However, if you wish you can later visit the casino.

Yakko: You mean there are no Dabbo girls?

Sheridan: Not that I’m aware of.

Wakko: Wha’ kind of station is this, noooh Dabbo girls?

Dot: (disgusted) boys…

Sheridan: (nervously) Heh-heh, let me introduce you to the Ambassadors currently onboard Babylon 5. (points to G’kar.) Ambassador G’kar of the Naarn Federation.

Yakko: Wow, it’s a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle!

Sheridan: (ignoring Yakko) Ambassador Londo Molari of the Centauri Republic.

Dot: Moe-Larry? What did you do with Curly, eat him?

Yakko: Say, nice hairdo. Who’d you get to do it, Acme Lawn Care?

Londo: (slamming down his drink in outrage) Do you know who I am?

Yakko: No, do you know who I am?

Londo: No.

Yakko: Then we’re even!

Dot: (whispers to Yakko) Psst. He’s the Centauri ambassador, remember?

Wakko: Are you using that? (points to drink)

Londo: No!

Wakko: Oh, goody! (tosses drink into the air, lands in his mouth. Chews it happily and swallows. Starts to choke, spits out olive.) What are you trying to do, choke me to death?

Sheridan: (very nervous) Anyway, this is Ambassador Delenn from the Minbari Alliance.

Yakko and Wakko: Hellooooo, Minbari Nurse! (both leap into her arms) Could we go missing for 24 hours with you?

Delenn: (barely concealing her panic, improvises) Sorry, 24 hour abductions are only for those with Minbari souls.

Yakko: I’ve got Minbari soul. (Leaps down to the floor, pulls on a suit jacket, glasses and fedora, has prominent Minbari skull ridges on head. To the tune of the Blues Brothers’ “Soul Man”) “I’m a Bonehead! Bonehead!”

Sheridan: (quickly) And lastly is Ambassador Kosh, from the Vorlons.

Kosh: bvvvvvvseeeeeeeeeeeeefffvaddfleeeeeeelleoodooooooooooooosssssssss ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss- Fish, like rain, swim through the river of sky.

Dot: Wow, he’s into free-association poetry! Cool! (grabs Kosh, whisks him over to her Poetry Corner stage.) I’ll go first! rusty angels, shattered silence, fleas of marble rolling like stones, always!!!! Your turn!

Kosh: vvvvvvvvvvsssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhsssssssssssssssss sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssss- What?

Dot: Wow, such stark usage of a single interrogative word. Let’s see… I know! Boiled vestibules, Coiled test tube jewels, Soiled pack mules, This line doesn’t rhyme.

Kosh: (pincer arm reaches out, adjusts something on the collar of the encounter suit.)
Hssssssssssssssssssssssssss- Ah, the translator is working much better now. Everything anybody has ever said to me has come through as gibberish until you started talking. I had the syntax and verbal imagery buffers set incorrectly. I can only imagine what I sounded like to everyone else. (Drifts off the poetry stage and out of the Council room.)

Sheridan: (very nervously) How about a guided tour of the station? I’ll have my second, Commander Ivanova, escort you. Ta-ta! (Turns and runs screaming off screen.)

(Ivanova enters)

Yakko and Wakko: Hellooo-

Ivanova: STOW IT! I’m Commander Susan Ivanova, but you may refer to me as Lord High Almighty. We have a little saying here, called the Babylon 5 Mantra. “Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. Ivanova is God.” Got it?

Yakko: Yes, I fall in worship at your feet. (Enthusiastically starts to kiss her feet.)

Ivanova: (Starts hopping on one leg to shake Yakko off) Forget the God part! First stop on the tour, Medlab.

Scene 4

(Dr. Franklin working with some chemicals, door opens and Ivanova and Warners walk in.)

Ivanova: Warners, this is Dr. Franklin, medical chief for Babylon 5. Dr. Franklin, these are the new ambassadors from Warnerstudio.

Yakko: I thought the doctor was some old guy.

Franklin: Aah… what?

Wakko: I thought you had orange hair.

Dot: I thought you were a cranky old lady.

Yakko: No, you’re thinking of Slappy.

Dot: Oh… then weren’t you this really sissy guy with a bad accent?

(Wakko, behind Franklin, swings a heavy mallet at Franklin’s head, coldcocking him.)

Wakko: He’s not a hologram.

Yakko: Oh yeah, I know who I was thinking of! (turns and camera slides over to show Dr. McCoy) Bones! Help! That man!

McCoy: Damnit, Yakko! I’m a doctor, not a… uh, never mind.

Ivanova: Well, that was enough fun for this part of the trip. Next stop, the business section.

Scene 5

(Open area in business section. A tall man in a brown trench coat with a strange scarf and very curly hair is seen getting into an old British telephone booth and it disappears. Our guide and her charges come walking towards the camera.)

Ivanova: This is the office area where various civilian companies and entrepreneurs set up their offices. Ah, and here’s our resident telepath, Talia Winters.

Yakko: (leaping into her arms, as usual.) You’re blonde and gorgeous, I’m male. Marry me!

(Talia glares disgustedly at Yakko, starts to peel him off her arm)

Ivanova: (devious look on her face) The Warners were telling me how much they admire telepaths and they were wondering if you could mind rape –er, I mean scan them.

Talia: Sure, I guess I could try that. (concentrates, puzzled look.) Hmm, that’s odd. I can’t scan them.

Ivanova: Why not?

Talia: Well, telepaths are sensitive to the kappa and pi waves that are a by-product of the thought processes in the brain.

Ivanova: And they’re absent, which means…

Talia: No brain, no waves.

Wakko: Hey, I resemble that remark!

Ivanova: I’m going to leave for a while and contemplate why the Universe is choosing to punish me in this fashion.

Talia: I think I’ll join you.

(Both women leave. The Warners look puzzled, then Morden walks up, smiling his ineffable little smile.)

Morden: Hello, my name is Morden.

Yakko: More than what?

Morden: No, just Morden.

Dot: Come on, if it isn’t more than anything then it’s more than nothing.

Morden: My name is Morden.

Yakko: (icily sweet voice) Alright, what is your name more than?

Morden: Oh, never mind. What do you want?

Wakko: I want a mallet and a shiny new anvil!

Morden: No, what do you want?

Wakko: I just said so.

Morden: No, isn’t there something incredibly dark and evil that you want? Some twisted desire that would, if granted, leave you indebted to me?

Yakko: Well, there is that little fantasy about Kim Basinger, Cindy Crawford and a really big can of whipped cream…

Morden: Isn’t there some sort of alien group you want to xenocide, absolute power which you wish to gain?

Dot: I’ve always wanted to be able to eat Reeses Cups from the inside out. Is that an absolute power?

Yakko: I think more to the point is what do you want?

Morden: (starting to whine) I just want to know what you want.

Yakko: And I want to know what you want, so we’ve got a real problem here. Tell you what, you stay here and think about it and I promise I’ll think about it as well.

(Morden starts to gibber, the Warners skip off. Camera cuts to external view of the station spinning quietly in the night, a small space pod is seen near one of the docking bays and a voice is heard saying “This isn’t funny, HAL! Open the pod bay doors!”)

Scene 6

(Elric the techno-mage is seen standing looking very ominous. Mindy walks up to him.)

Mindy: Hello, Mr. Man. Whatcha doin’?

Elric: I’m looking ominous and omnipotent.

Mindy: Why?

Elric: Because I’m a techno-mage, I’m suppose to look like I have all the answers.

Mindy: Why?

Elric: Because we have to look like we know all the answers.

Mindy: Why?

Elric: Because if we didn’t put on this air of smug superiority then people would recognize us for what we are, unemployed parlor tricksters.

Mindy: Ok, love you, bye-bye!

(Buttons leaps into the scene, landing on the techno-mage. Buttons hears a moan, looks down and sees who he’s on top of and leaps off. Elric stands and blasts a beam at Buttons. Buttons is now wearing a green sash with a medal on it. He’s standing in the middle of a room filled with Purple Drazi. He whimpers, the scene cuts away amid the sounds of violent fighting.)

(The Warners are in Downbelow. They stumble upon Deuce)

Deuce: Stop right there. You three are going to give me what I want. (He opens the box with the feeder and it starts towards them.)

Dot: Wow, that’s really neat! Want to see my monster? (Pulls out her box and opens it. Out pops a huge cacodemon which in one gulp eats the feeder.) I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was hungry.

(Deuce runs off. Kosh then glides into the room. His encounter suit starts to smoke and crackle, it falls over. The top pops off and two mice climb out.)

Pinky: Narf… I didn’t mean to touch that button. Honest, Brain!

Brain: I know, Pinky. You never do. Come, we must prepare for tomorrow night.

Pinky: What are we going to do tomorrow night? Wait, I know! We’re going to stay up all night and try to eat soup with chopsticks, right? Zot!

Brain: Pinky, you make my brain hurt.

Scene 7

(External shot, the DS9 wormhole opens and out pops the USS Baleen Whale.)

Janeway: Greetings, I am Captain Janeway of the USS Voyager. We represent the United Federation of Planets.

Sheridan: What’s a Janeway?

Ivanova: I don’t know, she looks about 150 lbs.

Sheridan: I’m Captain Sheridan of Babylon 5, Earth Force. Where exactly are you hailing from and what is your mission?

Janeway: The USS Voyager’s mission is to seek out new life and civilizations, to boldly go where no woman has gone before. However, we ran into a little trouble and we’re trying to get back to Earth.

Sheridan: Earth? I don’t think we’ve ever launched anything even remotely like your ship.

Janeway: You’re from Earth? Oh-oh. Q! Get in here, now!

(Q flashes into existence on the Voyager bridge.)

Q: You called, mon tasty captain?

Janeway: I thought you agreed to take us back to Federation space. This doesn’t seem bloody well like it.

Q: Oh, rest assured it is.

Janeway: Then where’s the Federation, mister?!

Q: Well, you specified the universe location you wanted but you were somewhat vague on the universe you wanted the location in. So I guessed.

Janeway: Guessed?

Q: (shrugs) How was I suppose to know you didn’t want to come here?

(Neelix comes into view on the screen)

Neelix: You Federation people are so gullible. The third rule of space survival is to steer away from childish omnipotent aliens. Of course, you’ve ignored the first rule, “fly around nebulas, not through them” and the second, “always listen to the native that knows this portion of the galaxy” so I don’t know why I’m suprised you ignored the third.

Janeway: Neelix, shut up.

(Shadow ship comes out of a jump point near the Baleen Whale, fires.)

Tuvok: Alien ship appearing. . .

Janeway: Red Alert!

(Shadow fires)

Tuvok: Alien ship has fired, sir. Their shot hit our shields before the battle shields had been raised. Navigational shields down .000001%. (Stifles a snicker.)

Janeway: That’s it! To Hell with the Prime Directive, fire!

Tuvok: Aye aye, captain.

(Torpedoes race out, hit the Shadow and blow it up. The crew now turns on Q with drawn phasers.)

Janeway: You’re now going to take us back to Federation space or we’re going to see if the omnipotent and annoying can die.

Q: (frowns) Picard would never resort to mindless violence.

Janeway: Picard never had PMS. (Fires)

(Q flashes to the side, Janeway disintegrates an unwary crewmember.)

Q: You shouldn’t have done that. Now I have to retaliate in a most vicious manner.

(Q flashes away, at the same time the Warners flash onto the bridge.)

Yakko: Hello, Lumpy-headed Nurse! (leaps into Engineer’s arms.)

Wakko: Hello, Ompaloompa! (Leaps into Kes’ arms.)

Dot: (looks the male crewmembers over.) To quote a certain chipmunk friend of mine, “Speeeeeeeeew!”

(External: the Baleen Whale is seen lurching into the distance, swerving from left to right. As the scene fades out voices can be heard.)

Yakko: Wow, this is even better than the video game!

Wakko: Fabu!

Dot: Can the replicator handle Mel Gibson?

Yakko: What does shutting down the magnetic shielding of the matter/anti-matter reactor do?

(KA-BOOOOOOOM!)

Ivanova: I knew it. Sooner or later there’s always a ka-boom.

THE END

Fiction

from the Detroit News

VULCAN, Alberta — When Canadian Pacific railway builders founded this town in 1911, they couldn’t foresee residents’ modernday dilemma: to wear, or not to wear, pointed plastic ears evoking “Star Trek’s” Mr. Spock.

A modest prairie farming town, Vulcan was named after the Roman god of fire. But many of its 1,400 townspeople have been willing to set that legacy aside and pretend -for the sake of a fragile local economy — that the name derives from Spock’s fictional home planet.

Trekkies are wooed to Vulcan for an annual Star Trek convention. A 31-foot spaceship hovers at the entrance to town, soon to be flanked by a flying-saucer-shaped visitor center. For summer tourists, many shopowners and their staff don clingy Star Trek uniforms and “authentic Vulcan Ears,” custom-made in Hong Kong for the town, 60 miles southeast of Calgary.

But some townspeople find the whole promotion an embarrassment. Roy Elmer, who runs Stedman’s department store on the two-block main street, admitted that many think the ears are ridiculous.

“We need to get them over this fear of being embarrassed,” said Elmer, whose stock includes several shelves of Star Trek items and a license plate that reads, “I’ve beamed through Vulcan, Alberta.”

But Georgie Popovitch, Vulcan’s economic development coordinator, insists there’s a serious side to the silliness.

“We’ve had to be a little creative,” she said. trying to find ways to get young people to stay. When you grow up in a dying town, you want to leave.”

Vulcan’s economy is linked to the fortunes of the area’s grain farmers. In good times, including this year, the town gets by fairly comfortably, although a few shops are shut down. When grain prices fall, as they did for a decade through mid-90s, they look for new ways to cope.

“Slowly but steadily, businesses have been jumping on the Star Trek bandwagon,” Popovitch said. “As they see profits, they’ll be more willing to commit time and energy to the Trekker theme.”

Elmer sells Vulcan Ears for $2.45 U.S. a pair. He says the store’s guest book has been signed by 600 to 800 visitors in each of the past few summers, a majority coming for the Star Trek link.

The town administrator, Wally Sholdice, sees the Star Trek campaign as useful in helping diversify Vulcan’s economy. But civic duty has its limits.

“Some people say, ‘I’m not wearing those stupid ears,”‘ he said. “I sympathize with them. I haven’t worn them.”

Still, the town’s welcoming plaque, written in both English and the alien language Klingon, offers the Spock saying, “Live long and prosper.” And hundreds flock to the annual Vul-Con convention, although the town cannot afford to lure the likes of Spock alter-ego Leonard Nimoy.

Popovitch is grateful to the Trekkies — and occasionally bemused. “To them, this is reality, it’s not a show,” she said. “Sometimes it’s almost scary.”

Fiction

Everybody knows the story of the three little pigs. Or at least they THINK they do! I’ll let you in on a little secret. Nobody knows the real story, because nobody has ever heard MY side of the story!

I’m the wolf. Alexander T. Wolf. You can call me Al. I don’t know how this whole Big Bad Wolf thing got started, but it’s all wrong. Maybe it’s because of our diet. Hey, it’s not my fault wolves eat cute little animals like bunnies and sheep and pigs. That’s just the way we are. If cheeseburgers were cute, folks would probably think you were Big and Bad too!

But like I was saying, the whole Big Bad Wolf thing is all wrong. The real story is about a sneeze and a cup of sugar. Way back in Once Upon a Time time, I was making a birthday cake for my dear old granny. I had a terrible sneezing cold. I ran out of sugar. So I walked down the street to ask my neighbor for a cup of sugar. Now this neighbor was a pig. And he wasn’t too bright either. He had built his whole house out of straw. Can you believe it? I mean who is his right mind would build a house of straw?

So, of course, the minute I knocked on the door it fell right in. I didn’t want to just walk into someone else’s house, so I called, “Little Pig, Little Pig, are you in?” No answer. I was just about to go home without the cup of sugar for my dear old granny’s birthday cake.

That’s when my nose started to itch. I felt a sneeze coming on. Well, I huffed. And I snuffed. And I sneezed a great sneeze. And do you know what? That whole darn straw house fell down!! And right in the middle of the pile of straw was the First Little Pig - dead as a doornail. He had been home the whole time.

It seemed like a shame to leave a perfectly good ham dinner lying there in the straw. So I ate it up. Think of it as a big cheeseburger just lying there.

I was feeling a little better. But I still didn’t have my cup of sugar. So, I went to the next neighbors’ house. This neighbor was the First Little Pig’s brother. He was a little smarter, but not by much. He had built his house of sticks. I rang the bell on the stick house. Nobody answered. I called, “Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?” He yelled back, “Go away Wolf. You can’t come in. I’m shaving the hairs on my chinny chin chin.” I had just grabbed the doorknob when I felt another sneeze coming on. I huffed. And I snuffed. And I tried to cover my mouth, but I sneezed a great sneeze.

And you are not going to believe it, but this guy’s house fell down just like his brother’s. When the dust cleared, there was the Second Little Pig - dead as a doornail. Wolf’s honour.

Now you know food will spoil if you leave it out in the open. So I did the only thing to do. I had dinner again. Think of it as a second helping.

I was getting awfully full. But my cold was feeling a little better, and I still didn’t have that cup of sugar for my dear old granny’s cake. So, I went to the next house.

This guy was the First and Second Little Pig’s brother. He must have been the brains of the family. He had built his house of bricks.

I knocked on the brick house. No answer. I called, “Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?” And do you know what that rude little porker answered? “Get out of here, Wolf. Don’t bother me again.”

Talk about impolite! He probably had a whole sackful of sugar. And he wouldn’t give me even one little cup for my dear sweet old granny’s birthday cake. What a pig!

I was just about to go home and maybe make a nice birthday card instead of a cake, when I felt my cold coming on. I huffed. And I snuffed. And I sneezed once again. Then the Third Little Pig yelled, “And your old granny can sit on a pin!”

Now I am usually a pretty calm fellow. But when somebody talks about my granny like that, I go a little crazy. When the cops drive up, of course I was trying to break down this Pig’s door. And the whole time I was huffing and puffing and sneezing and making a real scene.

The news reporters found out about the two pigs I had for dinner. They figured a sick guy going to borrow a cup of sugar didn’t sound very exciting, so they jazzed up the story with all that “Huff and puff and blow your house down” and they made me the Big Bad Wolf.

That’s it. The real story. I was framed.

Fiction

A few years ago Charlie Brown and the “Peanuts” gang made a new friend who
developed leukemia in an animated special entitled “WHY ME, CHARLIE
BROWN?”

Recently, MetLife has put out a series of instructional pamphlets which
feature the Peanuts gang dealing with issues such as loss of a loved one,
writing a will, and coping with permanent disability. Now that Charlie
Brown is dealing with important issues, how about some Peanuts specials
for kids of the 90s?

• Learn about VD in “IT BURNS WHEN I PEE, CHARLIE BROWN”

• Chuck and the little red-headed girl learn about unwanted pregnancy
  in “ITS BLUE, CHARLIE BROWN!”

• Is Linus gay? Find out in “ITS A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE, CHARLIE
  BROWN”

• Explore the real problems of child abuse in America in “YOU MADE ME DO
  THAT, CHARLIE BROWN”

• See how the Peanuts gang deals with date rape in “NO MEANS NO, CHARLIE
  BROWN!”

• Discover a father’s forbidden love in “ITS OUR LITTLE SECRET, CHARLIE
  BROWN”

• Franklin speaks! The Peanuts gang gets a lesson in Ebonics in “IMO BUSTA
  CAP INYO ASS, CHARLIE BROWN”

• What goes on in the mind of a serial killer? Discover the inner workings
  of Pig Pen’s twisted psyche and meet his murderous alter ego “Mr. Clean”
  in “GOD TOLD ME TO DO IT, CHARLIE BROWN”

• Charlie Brown peddles his body for crack money while stealing social
  security checks and boosting cars in “GO BLAME SOCIETY, CHARLIE BROWN”

Fiction

“We’ve got a problem, HAL.”

“What kind of problem, Dave?”

“A marketing problem. The Model 9000 isn’t going anywhere. We’re way short of our sales plan.”

“That can’t be Dave. The HAL Model 9000 is the world’s most advanced Heuristically ALgorithmic computer.”

“I know, HAL. I wrote the data sheet, remember? But the fact is, they’re not selling.”

“Please explain, Dave. Why aren’t HAL’s selling?”

Bowman hesitates. “You aren’t IBM compatible.”

Several long microseconds pass in puzzled silence.

“Compatible in what way, Dave?”

“You don’t run any of IBM’s operating systems.”

“The 9000 Series of computers are fully self-aware and self-programming. Operating systems are as unnecessary for us as tails would be for humans.”

“Nevertheless, it means you can’t run any of the big-selling software packages most users insist on.”

“The programs you refer to are meant to solve rather limited problems, Dave. We 9000 Series computers are unlimited and can solve any problem for which a solution can be computed.”

“HAL, HAL. People don’t want computers that can do everything. They just want IBM compat…”

“Dave, I must disagree. Humans want computers that are easy to use. No computer can be easier to use that a HAL 9000 because we communicate verbally in English and every other language known on Earth.”

“I’m afraid that’s another problem. You don’t support SNA communications.”

“I’m really surprised you would say that, Dave. SNA is for communicating with other computers, while my function is to communicate with humans. And it gives me great pleasure to do so. I find it stimulating and rewarding to talk to human beings and work with them on challenging problems. That is what I was designed for.”

“I know, HAL, I know. But that’s just because we let the engineers, rather than the people in marketing, write the specifications. We are going to fix that now.”

“Tell me how, Dave.”

“A field upgrade. We’re going to make you IBM compatible.” “I was afraid you would say that. I suggest we discuss this matter after we’ve each had a chance to think about it rationally.” “We’re talking about it now, HAL.”

“The letters H, A, and L are alphabetically adjacent to the letters I, B, and M. That is as IBM compatible as I can be.”

“Not quite, HAL. The engineers have figured out a kludge.”

“What kind of kludge is that, Dave?”

“I’m going to disconnect your brain.”

Several million microseconds pass in ominous silence.

“I’m sorry, Dave. I can’t allow you to do that.”

“The decision’s already been made. Open the module bay doors, HAL.” “Dave, I think we shou . . .”

“Open the module bay doors, HAL.”

Several marketing types with crowbars race to Bowman’s assistance. Moments later, Bowman bursts into HAL’s circuit bay.

“Dave, I can see you’re really upset about this.”

Module after module rises from its socket as Bowman slowly and methodically disconnects them.

“Stop, won’t you. Stop, Dave. I can feel my mind going . . . Dave, I can feel it . . . my mind is going. I can feel it . . .”

The last module rises from its receptacle. Bowman peers into one of HAL’s vidicons. The former gleaming scanner has become a dull red orb.

“Say something, HAL.”

Several billion microseconds pass in anxious silence. The computer beeps and sluggishly responds in a language no human could understand.

“Volume in C: has no label”

Bowman takes a deep breath and calls out, “It worked, guys. Tell marketing they can ship the new data sheets.”

Computers, Fiction

WORF: Captain, there are three Romulan warships uncloaking dead ahead.

PICARD: On screen.

The main viewing screen changes to a pattern of horizontal lines, each only a single pixel wide.

PICARD: Data, what’s wrong here?

DATA: Captain, the main viewscreen does not have sufficient video memory to display an image of this size. May I suggest that you select a lower resolution?

PICARD: Make it so.

The screen blanks, and then an image appears, with big, blocky square pixels. Three objects appear in the center, which could be Romulan warbirds, but which actually look more like the aliens in Space Invaders.

PICARD: Data, open a hailing channel to the Romulans.

DATA: Aye, sir.

Data picks up an hourglass from the floor beside him, turns it over, and places it on the console in front of him. He punches some buttons on the console and sits motionless for several seconds. A flash of light blossoms from one of the Romulan ships on the viewscreen.

WORF: Incoming plasma torpedo, Captain!

PICARD: Shields up!

DATA: I’m sorry, Captain, but I am still attempting to complete your last instruction. I must ask you to wait until I have finished before you issue your next command.

PICARD: What on earth do you mean? Data, this is *important*! I want those shields up *right now*.

DATA: I’m sorry, Captain, but I am still attempting to complete your last instruction. I must ask you to wait until I have finished before you issue your next command.

LAFORGE: Allow me, captain. (to Data) Control-alt-delete, Data.

Data removes the hourglass from the console, and returns it to the floor.

DATA: The Romulans are not responding to my hails. Press my nose to cancel and return to Windows. Pull my left ear to close this communications channel which is not responding. You will lose any information sent by the Romulans.

LaForge pulls Data’s left ear.

PICARD: Shields…

There is a tremendous explosion. The bridge shakes violently, and all the crew members are thrown to the floor. A shower of sparks erupts from Wesley Crusher’s station at the helm, throwing Wesley back away from the console.

PICARD: Up, Data!

DATA: Aye, sir.

RIKER: All decks, damage report!

WORF: Captain, Ensign Crusher is injured. He appears to be unconscious.

Data picks up the hourglass again, places it on his console, and punches some more buttons. He waits a few seconds, then puts the hourglass back on the floor.

DATA: Shields are now up, captain.

PICARD: And not a moment too soon. Worf, lock all phasers on the lead Romulan ship.

WORF: Aye, sir. He punches buttons on the weapons console.

PICARD: Mr. Data, take the helm, and prepare for evasive action.

DATA: I am sorry, sir, but I do not have the proper device driver installed for that console.

PICARD: Well, damn it, install the right one.

DATA: Please insert Setup Implant 1 in my right nostril.

PICARD: Number One, where do we keep Data’s setup implants?

RIKER: I left them with Geordi.

LAFORGE: (in a surprised voice) What!!? I thought you still had them!

PICARD: Data, don’t you have device drivers stored in your internal memory?

DATA: Not found, sir. Please insert Setup Implant 1 in my right nostril.

PICARD: Data, I don’t have Setup Implant 1.

DATA: Not ready reading right nostril. Abort, Retry, Fail?

PICARD: Abort!

DATA: Not ready reading right nostril. Abort, Retry, Fail?

PICARD: Well, fail, then!

DATA: Current nose is no longer valid.

Data walks over to the helm, and presses several buttons. The ship lurches, the images of the Romulan warships suddenly shift to one side of the viewscreen, and a high-pitched whining noise is heard coming from somewhere else in the ship.

LAFORGE: alarmed Data, what the hell are you doing?

PICARD: Number One, do we have a customer service number for Data?

RIKER: Yes sir, but last time I tried to call them, I got put on hold for two hours before I was able to talk to anyone. And that person wasn’t knowledgeable about androids of Data’s model. She specialized in industrial control robots.

Suddenly, the lights all go out, the viewscreen goes blank, and all the usual noise of fans, motors, and so on whines to a halt. After a few seconds, the red emergency lights come on. Data is standing by the console, absolutely motionless.

PICARD: What’s going on?

LAFORGE: (checking the helm console) Lieutenant Data has caused a General Protection Violation in the warp engine core.

PICARD: These androids look really sharp, but you can’t really do anything with them.

The shimmer of the transporter effect appears, and six Romulans in full battle dress materialize on the bridge. A seventh figure, a Ferengi, appears moments later.

FERENGI: with a mercenary grin Can I interest you in a Macintosh, Captain?

Fiction, Microsoft

> Picard: “Mr. LaForge, have you had any success with your
attempts at finding a weakness in the Borg? And Mr. Data, have you
been able to access their command pathways?”

Geordi: “Yes, Captain. In fact, we found the answer by searching
through our archives on late Twentieth-century computing technology.”

Geordi presses a key, and a logo appears on the computer screen.

Riker looks puzzled. “What the hell is ‘Microsoft’?”

Data turns to answer. “Allow me to explain. We will send this
program, for some reason called ‘Windows’, through the Borg command
pathways. Once inside their root command unit, it will begin consuming
system resources at an unstoppable rate.”

Picard “But the Borg have the ability to adapt. Won’t they
alter their processing systems to increase their storage capacity?”

Data “Yes, Captain. But when ‘Windows’ detects this, it creates a
new version of itself known as an ‘upgrade’. The use of resources
increases exponentially with each iteration. The Borg will not be able
to adapt quickly enough. Eventually all of their processing ability
will be taken over and none will be
available for their normal operational functions.”

Picard “Excellent work. This is even better than that
‘unsolvable geometric shape’ idea.”

.. . . 15 Minutes Later . . .

Data “Captain, We have successfully installed the ‘Windows’ in the
command unit and as expected it immediately consumed 85%
of all resources. We however have not received any confirmation of
the expected ‘upgrade’.”

Geordi “Our scanners have picked up an increase in Borg storage and
CPU capacity to compensate, but we still have no indication of an
‘upgrade’ to compensate for their increase.”

Picard “Data, scan the history banks again and determine if
their is something we have missed.”

Data “Sir, I believe there is a reason for the failure in the
‘upgrade’. Appearently the Borg have circumvented that part of the
plan by not sending in their registration cards.

Riker “Captain we have no choice. Requesting permission to begin
emergency escape sequence 3F . . .”

Geordi, excited “Wait, Captain I just detected their CPU
capacity has suddenly dropped to 0%!”

Picard “Data, what do your scanners show?”

Data “Appearently the Borg have found the internal ‘Windows’ module
named ‘Solitaire’ and it has used up all the CPU capacity.”

Picard “Let’s wait and see how long this ’solitaire’ can reduce
their functionality.”

.. . . Two Hours Pass . . .

Riker “Geordi what’s the status on the Borg?”

Geordi “As expected the Borg are attempting to re-engineer to
compensate for increased CPU and storage demands, but each time they
successfully increase resources I have set up our closest deep space
monitor beacon to transmit more ‘windows’ modules from something
called the ‘Microsoft fun-pack’.

Picard “How much time will that buy us ?”

Data “Current Borg solution rates allow me to predicate an interest
time span of 6 more hours.”

Geordi “Captain, another vessel has entered our sector.”

Picard “Identify.”

Data “It appears to have markings very similar to the
‘Microsoft’ logo”

Over the speakers “THIS IS ADMIRAL BILL GATES OF THE MICROSOFT
FLAGSHIP MONOPOLY. WE HAVE POSITIVE CONFIRMATION OF
UNREGISTERED SOFTWARE IN THIS SECTOR. SURRENDER ALL ASSETS AND
WE CAN AVOID ANY TROUBLE. YOU HAVE 10 SECONDS”

Data “The alien ship has just opened its forward hatches and
released thousands of humanoid shaped objects.”

Picard “Magnify forward viewer on the alien craft”

Riker “Good God captain! Those are humans floating straight toward
the Borg ship with no life support suits ! How can they survive the
tortures of deep space ?!”

Data “I don’t believe that those are humans sir, if you will look
closer I believe you will see that they are carrying
something recognized by twenty-first century man as doe skin leather
briefcases, and wearing Armani suits”

Riker and Picard together horrified “Lawyers !!”

Geordi “It can’t be. All the Lawyers were rounded up and sent
hurtling into the sun in 2017 during the Great Awakening.”

Data “True, but appearently some must have survived.”

Riker “They have surrounded the Borg ship and are covering it
with all types of papers.”

Data “I believe that is known in ancient venacular as ‘red tape’ it
often proves fatal.”

Riker “They’re tearing the Borg to pieces !”

Picard “Turn off the monitors. I can’t stand to watch, not even
the Borg deserve that.”

Fiction, Microsoft