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==================================
Star Trek: The Crouton Generation
Season 4, Pack 3
==================================
Date: Thu, 13 Jun 91 01:04:50 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (**LONG**)
Counselor Tracy and Admiral T'Lilith pick up Janson, who is just regaining
consciousness.
Tracy: Paul, what happened?
Janson: We were walking...suddenly she began to cry. It wasn't bawling
or anything...tears just began to run down past her impassive stare.
T'Lilith: Where is she now? WHAT HAPPENED???
Janson: I tried to hold her, to make her feel more comfortable. Next
thing I know, she picked me up and threw me into the wall. (apologetically)
I blacked out when I hit.
Tracy: She's not wearing a communicator either, so we can't trace her.
T'Lilith closes her eyes a moment, looks to be almost sniffing with her
closed eyes, then opens them again.
T'Lilith: She's headed toward the central computer core.
* * * * *
Back aboard the _Heisenberg_, things aren't going so well...
Thokk: PPR's are having no effect, Captain. The Borg know how to defend
against them.
Torbog: And our other weapons are useless against the Lucky Charms.
Kabeta: Damn.
The screen fills with Missycutus and her companion Lucky Lecter.
[ Loosely to the tune of "I Like Chinese" by Monty Python ]
Lecter: Croutons today are absolutely crackers...
Missycutus: With PPRs to blow us all sky high...
Lecter: It's true, they were in the past a problem.
Missycutus: But not lately, thank the Borg. Hang them high...
Missy/Lecter: Silence the breed.
Silence the breed.
Resistance we definitely do not need.
Kabeta, forget it. You simply can't lead.
Chomp on Heisenberg parts.
Matt's liver is a work of art.
Think of the many things in it we can dress:
There's sour cream, mayo, teriyaki and swiss.
The music gets cut off rather abruptly.
Lecter: You know, Kathy, we could really sing these inane songs all day long.
Missycutus: But we'd rather cut right to the point. (Borgish chuckle)
Lecter: Heh heh. Good one, Missy. Yes, Kabeta, all this...
Lecter, grinning, chomps on the arm of a leftover Romulan.
Lecter: ...could be yours if you'd just play along. You'd like that,
wouldn't you? All wired up and--
Kabeta: I'm tired of your humiliation. I'm tired of your sick attempts at
humor. I'm tired of being called Kathy! And I'm tired of Lucky Charms
period!! Lt. O'Forever, prepare--
Kabeta's voice is cut-off in mid-sentence, although she continues to try
to formulate words. To the camera, it looks like "to ram them, maximum
Jolt-Warp."
Missycutus: Listen to the silence of the Croutons, Kabeta. Isn't it
marvelous?
Lecter and Missy both laugh with the evil laugh of a million mechanoids...
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 5: "Expositional Dialogue"
Written by Admiral Avenger
(With a tip o' the keyboard to Thomas Harris)
Guest Stars
Mart McChesney as Lucky Lecter
Lalla Ward as T'Kreila
Michael Ironside as Torbog
Al Lewis as Yel
James Carrey as Janson
P.D. Kunz as The Kunz
Special Guest Stars
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Lucky Lecter
Directed by Terry Gilliam
Incidental Music by Mike Post
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Crouton: "Captain's Log, Stardate 103006.5:
We have completed initial repairs to the _Melbourne_ and are hoping
to get underway within the hour. Lt. Cdr. Savan reports that her engines
are now capable of Six-Warp Four. We believe this should be sufficient
to get the _Melbourne_ back to Starbase for repairs. With the help of
Soraya, Zortyl and Wizzar, the _Melbourne_ now has full bridge lighting
and 20% lighting around the rest of the ship.
While Rhee prepares a final report, we are going to proceed with
Crossfire's briefing."
Crossfire: You're all familiar with Missy's personality. You're also
familiar with her knowledge and skills. I don't have to remind you
that she is the best there is in the engineering field.
Highlander: Your point, Commander?
Crossfire: My point IS, Commander, that all of that knowledge and experience
now belongs to the Borg. Even if we defeat this current threat, the Borg
will know everything there is to know about our technology.
Ghiasi: Oh, grreeaaat. There goes the neighborhood...
Crossfire: That's not all. It's also possible that this new information
will provide the Lucky Charms with the understanding of the low-tech
weapons that we've been using as our edge against them.
Crouton: We are indeed in trouble.
Neon: Commander, if I may. Reviewing the encounters with the _Melbourne_
and _Subaru_, I noticed a lot of emphasis on Lucky Lecter's personality
throughout Missy and the other Lucky Borg. He seems to be a key here.
He's unscrupulous and has a sick sense of humor.
Crossfire: Yes yes yes. (losing patience) I *had* noticed that, Counselor.
Neon: Look, Mr. Snotty. He'll use your own weaknesses against you. Missy
is aware of our weaknesses, and he's likely to use them against us.
Icefalcon: You're not exactly invulnerable right now, Crossfire.
Crossfire sends a strong glare Icefalcon's way.
Crossfire: The first thing we have to realize -- we may never get Missy
back. I'm going to do my best, but if it comes to a choice between her
or me, I'm choosing me.
Crouton: Understandable, Commander. I would hope that such a decision
would prolong our chance to defeat this menace and rescue her.
Crossfire: There may not be a rescue. I frankly have not been able to
figure out any definite way to defeat these bastards. The only thing I
can do is get in there and let instinct take over.
Ghiasi: Do you really think that's safe?
Highlander (smiling): It worked before...
The others look at Highlander, curiously.
Highlander (explaining): About two years ago...
Crouton: All right, Crossfire. What is your plan?
Crossfire: Get me close enough to their ship and I'll go aboard...alone.
Let me handle things from there.
Crouton: I don't like that plan.
Ghiasi: It's foolish.
Gretzky: They'll slice you and dice you before you get a chance to act.
Highlander: I'll go with you.
The others again look at Highlander, with surprise.
Highlander: I'd trust Crossfire with my life and... (a beat) ...I'm sure
he could use the help.
Crossfire: I appreciate the offer, Commander, but I must do this alone.
Highlander: Then I'll be waiting if there's trouble.
Crouton: Nothing has been decided for sure, Number One. Let me go over
this with Starbase before we act. There may be new events that are
occuring as we speak that could change your planned course of action.
Captain Crouton, Soraya and others get up and walk out, leaving Highlander
and Crossfire behind.
Crossfire: I appreciate your support, Commander, but I don't need it.
Highlander: Don't get all stuck up, Crossfire. You're good. Damn good.
(pause) So f***ing good it used to get on my nerves, remember?
Crossfire: Harumph. (leaves)
Highlander: We have *got* to get that boy a puppy.
* * * * *
T'Lilith, Janson and Tracy come tearing around the corner into Main
Engineering.
Janson: There she is!
T'Lilith: What in the hell is she doing?
They rush forward and latch onto T'Kreila's arms. She immediately flings
Janson and Tracy into opposing walls (though they remain conscious), but
T'Lilith keeps her hold.
T'Lilith: T'Kreila, hold still, dammit!!
T'Kreila turns toward her sister, tears flowing now. Her mouth opens and
closes in some incoherent pleading manner. Our view suddenly switches to
the inside of T'Kreila's mind.
T'Kreila runs and runs and runs through the Borg ship, free of her Borg
constraints, but surrounded by Borg and Lucky Charms, threatening to steal
her away.
T'Lilith: T'Kreila, come back!
T'Kreila continues running, babbling out the "NO!" of a frightened five-year
old child.
T'Kreila: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
T'Lilith catches up to her, latches hold of her arms and spins her around.
T'Kreila: NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The last NO!!!! is quite shrill and T'Kreila begins to bawl, combined with
a Klingon scream. T'Lilith hesitates for a moment, then fights back her
hard feelings, pulls T'Kreila close and hugs her tightly.
T'Lilith: It's all right. They can't hurt you any more. I won't let them.
Outside T'Kreila's mind, Tracy and Janson come to their feet and step forward,
only to find T'Kreila relaxing, but crying heavily, in T'Lilith's arms.
T'Lilith (speaking now): It's all right. I'll protect you. Nothing
will happen to you.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Scott Robertson: Bo knows plasma.
Evi: Bo knows discrete structures too.
Aaron Grant: Bo knows quantum electrodynamics?
K.T.: I do not particularly think so.
Kunz: Bo knows scattering prob--
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! A pink bunny rabbit with drum and shades materializes
in the Kunz's office, then marches across the floor beating on the drum.
Announcer: Still going! Nothing outlasts the Croutonizer. It keeps going
and going and going...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lucky Borg begin to step through the walls of the _Heisenberg_. Yaz leaps
out of the way before a Lucky Borg smashes into his science station, which
explodes in silent sparks and flames. Thokk whirls with his sword and
hits a Lucky Borg's head armor. Swinging again, the Lucky Borg phases out
and the sword passes right through.
A wolf leaps across the bridge, snarling silently, knocking a Lucky Borg
to the ground. The Lucky Borg hisses and clack mandibles, but the wolf
keeps dodging the bites, while standing on the Lucky Borg and pinning it
to the ground. We see Torbog standing wide-eyed looking at the wolf,
but he reacts in the nick of time when a Lucky Borg advances toward him,
pulling out a short sword and swinging.
With catlike grace, Matt Ender removes a phase-blade from a concealed
location and strikes out at a nearby opponent. The Lucky Borg steps through
the blade without harm, then re-soldifies and smiles, clacking its mandibles
together.
Torbog gives up on tactics and just swings wildly at a Lucky Charm. Hitting
the armor hard, he shrieks and pulls back his hand in agony.
Suddenly, the Lucky Borg seem to melt through the floor. The lights on the
ship flicker and return to life. Kabeta returns to her humanoid form, though
she nearly stumbles and begins to turn a pale shade of green.
Kabeta (nauseous): What on Xavion is going on?
Her look turns curious as she realizes she heard herself speak this time.
The viewscreen is a jumbled mess of multi-dimensional imagery. Kabeta
turns to the captain's chair and finds a familiar entity sitting in it.
Another being sits next to him, in the First Officer's chair.
The Kunz snaps his fingers < FWOOOOSSHHHH!! > and a funky rap beat begins.
[Loosely to the tune of "Parents Just Don't Understand" by
DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince]
The Kunz: You know, mortals are the same no matter time nor place...
Yel: They don't utilize the tricks of simple time and space...
Kunz: So to you Lucky Charms and your wiry Borg fans...
Yel: There's no need to chase us, mortals just don't understand.
Funky rap beat.
Kunz: I remember one time, the Charms took out ol' Romulus...
Yel: Then Trisellus, Menudas, Protactus and Shanos...
Kunz: And on to Mars they so boldly marched, not expecting the kind
of resistance humans fought.
Yel: With the help of the Kunz and Commander Crossfire, the Lucky Charm
evolutionary track began to tire.
Kunz: So take a hint from others who have fought with their glands,
Yel: There's no need to fight us, mortals just don't understand.
Funky rap beat.
Kunz: Okay, here's the situation; we gave you a break with a little
relocation...
Yel: To new dimensions and new perceptions. Do you mind?
Speaker: Hmmmm? Naaah, of course not!
Kunz: We'll just take you for a little spin out to where the next part of
this war begins.
Yel: We'll just move on to the next target...
Thokk: Maybe we shouldn't...
Kunz/Yel: Yeah, of course we should.
Kunz: Pay attention now, we're at the next stop.
Yel: Out of these dimensions we soon will drop.
Kunz: Your stomach may not take it well; your brain might get woozy.
Yel: You won't have time to choose tactics, so don't get choosy.
Kunz: If the Charms come near, just work without thought.
Yel: It should come to you naturally, not Starfleet bought.
Kunz: But should your instincts put you in a major jam,
Yel: There's no need to worry, mortals just don't understand!
The funky rap beat continues and Yel begins to dance a cross between a jig
and MC Hammer as we move to the next scene. Kabeta and the other
_Heisenberg_ers stare at this spectacle curiously as we cut to:
* * * * *
The _Chivalier_ security area. Safely inside a brig, T'Kreila sits on the
floor, T'Lilith sitting behind her and continuing to hold her. Tracy and
Janson sit nearby on the brig bed. T'Kreila continues to mumble
"No..No..No.." while staring straight ahead and crying uncontrollably.
T'Lilith: I have not seen her like this since our pet targ died.
Tracy: Somehow, Paul must have triggered some memory. At first, she wanted
to return to the Borg...
T'Lilith: Is *that* why she was trying to plug herself into the warp conduits?
Tracy: Exactly. But when she found she couldn't...and when you intervened
and wouldn't let her go into her denial phase, you broke even further
through. I think you've finally broken their hold over her.
Janson: So she'll be all right.
T'Lilith: She's *not* all right. (a beat) But I'll agree with your diagnosis,
John. In her mind, she was running, terrified, through the Borg ship being
chased by Borg and Lucky Charms. She was truly terrified.
Tracy: She has a long way to go. This is the part where we're going to
have to watch her most closely. (a beat) If she follows the pattern of
Reannon Bonaventure, she may try to kill herself.
T'Lilith: But she is a Klingon! The odds are even that she would kill
someone else first.
Tracy: That is a distinct possibility. Paul, we're going to need your
help to keep an eye on her. It is important that she not be left alone.
Janson: I understand. Anything I can do.
T'Lilith: Right now...there's not a whole lot. She just needs time.
Leaning down toward T'Kreila's ear, T'Lilith whispers something, then
begins to sing a Vulcan lullaby to her quietly. Tracy gets up and motions
for Janson to follow him.
* * * * *
Lecter: There has been an intervention beyond our dimensions. It is obvious
who was responsible.
Missycutus: The Kunz is irrelevant. We will prevail.
The image of Starbase LMC1, stolen from Missy's memories, fills a Borg
cubic viewscreen nearby.
Lecter: All in due time, my dear. The Kunz will get his. But first we
must have *our* prize. (licks mandibles) And what a tasty prize he
will be...
Cut to exterior. The Borg vessel moves off at high speed.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Uh-oh...-=- The Crouton Man -=-
ChrisP: Tired? Thirsty?
Pulls a bottle of Mason's root beer from his fridge and twists off the cap.
ChrisP: Have a Mason's root beer and start your day off right.
Cut to a close up of the Mason's bottle and six-pack.
ChrisP (voice-over): Mason's -- the one with the twist-off cap.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Captain Crouton exits his Ready Room, rootbeer in hand, and heads
for the captain's chair. Just as he is about to sit down, the red
alert sirens go off.
Chuang: Uh oh.
Parker: Long-range sensors are detecting a vessel approaching at high
speed.
Himle (shaking his head): Magically delicious, I bet.
Crouton: On screen, please.
We see just space.
Ghiasi: Well?
Parker: Visual in 3 seconds.
A cube-shaped ship zips by in a split-second.
Chuang: Think they were going fast enough?
Crouton: Plot an intercept course, Jolt 9.
Neon: Captain, perhaps we should move the families to the saucer section
and separate.
Ghiasi: With the Lucky Charms around, I wouldn't want to leave them for
dead like that.
Crouton: Agreed.
Captain Crouton taps a panel and begins speaking throughout the ship.
We cut variously to crew members stopping to listen to the bosun's whistle.
Crouton: This is Captain Crouton. We are currently in pursuit of the
Lucky Borg vessel. In my opinion, it would not be safe to leave the
saucer section behind. I ask that all families report to assigned
shelter areas and all off-duty personnel should arm themselves with
whatever conventional or unconventional weaponry they can find. I ask
you to remain calm, but on your toes, as the threat we face is great.
Crouton out.
Neon: Captain, that was wonderful. When did you learn to be so inspiring?
Highlander picks up an open book, showing it to Neon.
Highlander: Academy Command Manual, Page 72, Paragraph 3. You don't
think he writes this stuff himSELF, do you?
* * * * *
Chi An has a Cubs game on tape-delay going on his office viewscreen.
Announcer: There's a drive...going way back...it looks like...it might
be...HOLY COW! A three run home run for Akahiro Tomayatsu!!
Chi An jumps up, screaming in joy, knocking his popcorn everywhere. He
has to recover his Cubs hat from the desk, where it feel when he leaped.
[Total rip-off of "Nobody Does It Better" by Carly Simon]
Chow: Nobody does it better.
Makes me feel sad for the rest.
Nobody does it half as good as you.
Cubbies, you're the best.
I wasn't looking...
But somehow you found me.
I tried to hide from your gloves...
But like Harry above me
The sport that loved me
Is keeping all my favorite hopes alive...
And nobody does it better...
Though sometimes I wish the Padres would...
Nobody does it quite the way you do...
Why'd you have to be so good?
The way that you pitch there...
The way that you hit there...
There's some kind of magic inside your friendly confines...
That keeps your crew running
But just keep it coming
How'd you like to win seven to two?
And nobody does it better...
Makes me feel sad for the rest...
Nobody does it half as good as you...
Cubbies, Cubbies...Wrigley, you're the best...
Wrigley, you're the best...
Wrigley, you're the best...
Wrigley Field...Wrigley, you're the best...
Wrigley Field...Wrigley, you're the best...
Wrigley Field...Wrigley, you're the best...
Wrigley Field...Wrigley, you're the best...
As the music trails off, the intercom bleeps.
Chow (fumbling for the switch, blushing): Go ahead.
Aedoni: Captain, the _Croutonprize_ is hailing. They have located the
Lucky Borg vessel and are requesting that we join in their pursuit.
Chow: Have Euge plot an intercept course and get Bill out of bed. I'll be
right there.
Chi An taps the intercom off, removes his Cubs hat and jersey from over his
uniform, cleans off the popcorn, then begins to leave.
Chow: Harry, freeze and store the game at current time mark.
Harry: Holy Cow, Captain Chow, you're going to put the game on hold?
Chow: Yellow alert.
* * * * *
On the bridge of the _Comatose_, Counselor Bruce sits at Science Station 3,
watching old Monty Python videotapes. Commander D'Arc Tangent plays Teenage
Mutant Ninja Tashas at the Nintendo Station. And the captain?
Boom-Boom: Skkkkrllllknkkkkzzzzzzzz.......
The red alert siren goes off, scaring Bruce to death. Tangent is so surprised
that he throws the joystick two feet into the air. Boom-Boom's eyes blink
open slightly.
Boom-Boom (half-asleep): Computer, what the f*** was that?
Computer: That was the red alert warning siren. An unknown vessel is on
a collision course with the _Comatose_.
Boom-Boom: Oh, okay. (Goes back to sleep. Then jumps up, awake.) What?!?!?
Tangent: Looks like we picked the wrong week to not have a bridge crew.
Bruce: Looks like we picked the wrong week to have the warp engines shut
down for a level 1 diagnostic.
Boom-Boom: Looks like we picked the wrong week to hang out near Starbase.
They watch on the viewscreen as the Borg vessel barrels down on them at
Jolt Warp 9+.
"TO BE CONTINUED"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Next time, on all-new episode of
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 6: "The Morphology of Complex Ensnarement"
The Croutons make a last stand at Starbase LMC1.
Parker: The _Heisenberg_ is under attack. Starbase LMC1 is not responding.
And a shocking secret comes to light.
Avenger: This has all been a big ruse!
Will Crossfire be able to save the day?
[Captain Crouton, et al listening from the bridge]
Crossfire (ic): I've about had it with these bastards.
Or will humanity feed the hunger of the evil Lucky Borg?
Avenger (sarcastically): Yeah, right.
EXPENSIVE SPACE BATTLE on Star Trek: The Crouton Generation!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Jun 91 00:11:22 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (**LONG**)
Boom-Boom, D'Arc Tangent and Counselor Bruce wait for the impact of the
oncoming Lucky Borg vessel.
Bruce: Maybe we should move the ship out of the way?
Tangent: There isn't time.
They close their eyes tightly, waiting for the impact. We cut to exterior,
where the Lucky Borg vessel phases out of existence long enough to pass
straight through the _Comatose_. It resolidifies on the other side and
continues uninterrupted. About 30 seconds later, the _Comatose_ crew open
their eyes carefully.
Boom-Boom: What happened? Where'd they go?
Tangent (looking at screen): They went right past us. What a bunch of flakes.
Bruce: Maybe we weren't important enough to stop for.
Boom-Boom: Well, what would be?
Tangent (looking at a sensor display): If they keep flying in a straight
line, I know what is...
* * * * *
On the bridge of the _Heisenberg_, the crew pick up the pieces.
Kabeta: Professor Kunz, I appreciate the rescue, but I'm getting a bit
tired of having you bail us out every time a Lucky Charm comes near.
Would you please let me handle the situation myself next time? My
crew and I are more than capable...
Kunz: Suit yourself. (to Yel, aside) Poor child. So naive. Perhaps I
should show her a little of the future? (reaches up to snap fingers)
Yel (grabbing the snapping hand out of the air): I don't think so. We have
a more immediate problem at hand.
Kunz: Oh, yes. Of course.
Kabeta stands, arms folded, tapping her foot impatiently.
Kunz: Is she getting annoyed with me?
Yel: It sure looks like it.
Kunz: Oh, all right!
< FWOOOOSSHHHH!! > The _Heisenberg_ slides back into its appropriate
dimensions just outside of Starbase LMC1. Kabeta's stomach takes a jump.
< FWOOOOSSHHHH!! > The Kunz disappears, leaving the captain's chair open
for Kabeta to sit down again. Yel remains behind.
Torbog: Who *are* you anyway?
Yel: A friend. Just Yel if you need me.
Yel fades away in a very ghostlike manner.
Kabeta (shaking her head): This is all too weird for me.
Torbog: Too weird for *you*?
maya (at the one working science station): Captain, we have trouble.
Kabeta: Oh, what now?!
maya: The Lucky Borg vessel is approaching the Starbase at greater than
Jolt 10.
Kabeta buries her face in her hands.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 6: "The Morphology of Complex Ensnarement"
Written by Admiral Avenger
(With a tip o' the keyboard to Thomas Harris)
Guest Stars
Mart McChesney as Lucky Lecter
Lalla Ward as T'Kreila
Al Lewis as Yel
Michael Ironside as Torbog
James Carrey as Janson
Special Guest Stars
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Lucky Lecter
Directed by Diane Keaton
Incidental Music by Basil Poledouris
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Admiral Avenger sits in his office (which is dimly lit, as usual), staring
out the window at the scene unfolding before him. The _Heisenberg_ has
just shifted into normal dimensions and the Lucky Borg vessel is pulling up
in a parking orbit.
Avenger: Loqutus, send a message to Star Fleet Command, Admiral Van Tripp.
Loqutus: Subspace is irrelevant.
Avenger: Stardate 103008.5. Admiral, we're in it deep here. The _Melbourne_
is still limping, the _Subaru_ is off on a tangent and we've lost the
_T'Kryllyk_. The _Heisenberg_ just appeared at my doorstep just minutes
before the Lucky Borg and the other two _Salad_-class ships are on their
way now. It looks like we're going to put up a final stand here. Wish
me luck. Avenger out.
Avenger gets up and walks across the room. We notice that he wears baseball
pants and cleats below his uniform tunic. He walks to the corner and removes
a wooden Louisville Slugger from a rack. We notice the "Kirby Puckett"
signature engraved on the bat as Avenger looks at it thoughtfully.
Yel (disembodied voice, bad Ted Cassidy impression): You rang?
Yel fades into existence behind Avenger.
Avenger: So this is it -- we're going to die.
Yel: I wish you'd stop saying that. (a beat) Think, son. They haven't
come in force, so what is it they really want?
Avenger: A couple of things have come to mind, but most of them don't make
sense. It's possible they want to use me to get to you and our technology,
but I'm guessing that's not it. (pause) At least not *all* of it.
Yel: What about humanity? Is there something about humanity -- or a specific
human on one of your ships -- that they want?
Avenger: Well, they *got* Missy. What more could they want?
Yel: I don't know. You're the smart one, remember? (laughs)
Avenger (smiles, sarcastically): Yeah, right.
Avenger reaches for a Minnesota Twins batting helmet (switch-hitter, so it
has both ear flaps) and slips it on.
Avenger: I guess I'd better get to work.
Yel: Take this.
Yel pulls a strange looking device, about the size and shape of those
collapsible umbrellas, out of his pocket and hands it to Avenger.
Yel: You might need it.
Avenger: What *is* it?
Yel: A little device we cooked up a few months before the attack... You
ought to be able to figure out what it does. Just wait until you *really*
need it.
Yel begins to fade out.
Avenger: Thanks. (pause) I think.
Avenger leaves the room.
* * * * *
Kabeta: Red alert. Thokk, load everything.
One of the younger Romulans whispers to Torbog.
Torbog: Perhaps, but it didn't seem -- (turns to Kabeta) Captain, my
officers are prepared to make some modifications to your Crouton torpedoes
using some of our plasma technology -- with your permission, of course.
I don't know if it will help, but...
Kabeta nods and smiles toward the young Romulan officer.
Kabeta: Thank you. That would be very much appreciated.
yaz: Captain, Borg tractor beam is locking on!
Cut to exterior. The Borg tractor beam begins to carve out a small section
of the _Heisenberg_ hull.
* * * * *
Admiral Avenger marches through Starbase toward the tactical command center.
His stride has strong purpose and he taps the bat in his left palm as he goes.
Rear Admiral Mark Bradford joins him, fencing sword attached at his waist.
Bradford: The _Heisenberg_ is under attack and the _Comatose_ has reported
that it is also on its way in.
Avenger: Good. The _Melbourne_?
Bradford: Still picking up the pieces, Admiral. (a beat) We have been
unable to reach the _Subaru_.
Avenger: Let's hope that's a good sign, Mark.
They enter the command center. It looks rather like the NORAD you saw in
_War Games_ or the Star Fleet HQ command center from _Star Trek IV_. Crew
you've never seen before rush from station to station, coordinating the
coming battle. Commander Boris Becker approaches, a pouch of tennis balls
at his waist and a racket in hand.
Becker: All defenses are powered up and all veapons are armed, Admiral.
Avenger: Very good. Let's keep them occupied until the other _Salad_-class
ships get here.
Bradford: Lt. Mendez, full power to the #5 and #6 phaser banks, random
frequencies!
Incredible phaser fire lances out from the Starbase and hits the Borg vessel.
Taken by surprise, the Borg ship loses its grip on the _Heisenberg_. Two
more phaser beams lance out from the starbase, fluctuating in frequency,
but the Borg shields now prevent any damage.
Avenger: Damn.
Lucky Borg begin to jump through the Starbase walls.
Fresh (dropping both his walkman and his Spiderman comic book): Aw, man!
A Lucky Borg takes a swipe at Bradford, but Avenger whirls right and smashes
the mechanoid's arm with his bat, left-handed. He follows through with a
right-handed swing at the head armor, knocking the creature to the floor.
Avenger: Heh. Missy never did much like baseball, did she?
Bradford's fencing sword comes around to poke at a Borg sneaking up on Avenger,
but his aim is off and the Borg grabs Avenger behind the batting helmet.
Avenger: He--ey....................
The Lucky Borg continue to overrun the command center as Mark leads the
retreat. Avenger and his Borg companion beam out.
Bradford (into his communicator): Bradford to _Heisenberg_. They've got
the Admiral.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
It was a soggy time...a time of great evil...and magic.
Only one man could brave the dressing...
A flaming arrow lands in a tree. Camera turns to Chris Platt slinging a
bow over his shoulder and hopping on a horse.
Christopher Platt is
ROBIN HOOD:
PRINCE OF CROUTONS
Now showing at a theater near you.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
_Croutonprize_ bridge, crew running around, tension building.
Crouton: ETA to Starbase?
Himle: 45 seconds.
Parker: Captain, the _Heisenberg_ is under attack. Starbase LMC1 is not
responding.
Highlander (next to Gretzky at tactical): F***.
Crouton: Commander Crossfire, are you ready?
Crossfire (ic): Yes, sir. Just get me in close.
Ghiasi: Captain, we've just gotten word from Starbase LMC1. The Lucky Borg
have overrun the base and have taken Admiral Avenger.
Crouton: Damn. Crossfire, did you copy that?
Crossfire (ic): I did. I've about had it with these bastards.
Chuang: Decelerating to sublight, Captain.
Highlander: Battle stations.
Zen: < RED ALERT > < RED ALERT > Oh, I don't want to do this any more!!!
Gretzky: All weapons systems armed, sir.
Crouton: Prepare to launch shuttlecraft.
* * * * *
The _Heisenberg_ continues to take a pounding.
Kabeta: Where are they???
yaz-pistachio: _Croutonprize_ dropping out of warp, Captain.
Cut to exterior as the _Croutonprize_ enters the area, phasers and Crouton
torpedoes a-blazing.
maya: They're not having any effect.
Thokk: I could have told you that would happen.
Kabeta: Wait a minute! (a beat) Michael, I have an idea.
Speaker: I think anything you could say right now would be appreciated,
Captain.
Kabeta: What if we were to...
Quick cut to:
* * * * *
Crouton: Launch shuttlecraft.
Crossfire pushes the shuttlecraft _Maalox_ out of the shuttle bay and into
the fray.
Parker: He's free, Captain.
Highlander: Keep him covered, Mr. Gretzky.
Crouton: Jez, assemble a security detail in Croutonizer Room 3 at once.
Jez (ic): Mrow!
Neon: Captain, what do you have in mind?
Crouton: Fire phasers.
* * * * *
While the _Heisenberg_ and _Croutonprize_ take a pounding, the shuttlecraft
_Maalox_ moves closer to its target -- the Lucky Borg vessel itself. Suddenly,
a large ship drops out of warp just a few hundred meters from the Borg ship
and whooshes by.
Crossfire: What the f*** was that?
* * * * *
Aboard the ship that just whooshed by:
Euge: All right!
Chow: Euge, try that again and I'll--
Aedoni: Captain, there's a shuttlecraft in there.
Chow: What?!? Who'd be stupid enough to be in a shuttlecraft at a time
like this?
* * * * *
Missycutus coordinates from near a 3-D viewscreen. Lucky Lecter sits nearby,
munching on a Romulan leg. Avenger marches forth, ahead of two Lucky Borg.
He pulls off his helmet and throws it to the floor.
Avenger: What is the meaning of this?
Missycutus turns. Avenger is shocked by her appearance. Her mandibles
are nearly full-grown, her skin has thickened up, and her eyes and other
facial features are beginning to become less that of Melissa Midzor and
more that of a small Lucky Charm.
Missycutus: Avenger. Genetically engineered species. A precursor race
to our own. You too will be assimilated.
Avenger: Like I'm going to allow that.
Missycutus (smiling): Actually, I was just kidding.
Lecter stands up and moves forward.
Lecter: What have we here?
He takes the compact umbrella-like device from Avenger.
Lecter: Looks like the work of the creators, doesn't it? Tsk tsk tsk.
And you let it fall into our hands.
Avenger: What can I say? I f***ed up again.
Lecter: Such nasty language, Admiral. Very unlike you. Could it be I've
touched a nerve? Of course not -- I would have tasted it if I had.
(a beat) No, I think you're playing a little game with us.
Missycutus: Games are irrelevant. We will prevail.
Lecter: You know what I was thinking, Melissa? Admiral T'Lilith would be
a fine addition to our ranks, wouldn't she?
Avenger tries to keep his cool, but is losing it.
[Based on "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer"]
Lecter: You know Riker and Bowman and Data and Shelby...
Missycutus: Avenger, Kabeta, O'Brien and Himle...
Lecter: But do you recall...
Missycutus: Our most annoying opponent of all?
Lecter: Crossfire, the angry archer...
Had one close friendship, you know.
Missycutus: But when Picard's stroke killed him.
Crossfire was left all alone.
Lecter: It was all unexpected,
But don't think we will waste a chance.
Missycutus: We'll add our enemy Crossfire
And soon he'll do a Lucky dance.
As Avenger interrupts, the music grinds to a halt in a particularly Monty
Python screeching way of stopping.
Avenger: How could I have been so stupid?!?
Missycutus: Not hard for you, given past examples.
Avenger: You've wanted Crossfire all along. (a beat) This has all been
a big ruse to lure him into your trap!
Lecter: Very good, Admiral. It's about time you caught on. (grabs Avenger
by the chin) Your defeat is just minutes away now, Admiral. Crossfire
is all we needed. He defeated us before. Without him, your lovely humans
don't stand a chance.
Missycutus: And neither do you.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Do you want Major League Baseball to come to your city?
Do you want the thrill of watching overpriced, overrated players like
Jose Canseco and Roger Clemens charge the mound and beat the crap out
of one another on your home field?
Okay. Here's what you do.
1) Send $95 million in unmarked $20 bills to:
Faye Vincent
Godfather..er..Commissioner of Baseball
123 Behind-the-railway-station Drive
New York, NY
2) Sign a contract to give us your firstborn child.
3) Build an outdoor, natural grass, baseball-only field at your city's
expense.
4) Wait 30 more years for us to think about it.
Now isn't that easy?
(Brought to you by the National League Expansion Committee.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Crossfire pilots his shuttle through an opening and lands inside the Borg
ship. Grabbing his bow and quiver, he re-checks the clip on his Beretta.
Crossfire: Glaser Safety Slugs should do the trick...I hope.
He exits the shuttle and begins to stealthily move through the ship. There
don't appear to be any Lucky Borg in this part and his progress is swift.
As he comes around one corner, he sees Admiral Avenger standing about 50 feet
away. Crossfire draws out an arrow and loads his bow. He then proceeds.
Crossfire: Admiral Avenger! What the hell are you doing here?
A look of fear crosses Avenger's face as he screams:
Avenger: No, Blake, get the hell out of here -- now!
Three Lucky Borg jump out of the walls just behind Crossfire. He whirls
and fires his bow, landing an arrow between the eyes of one of the creatures.
He has the bow over his shoulder and his Beretta out and firing in no time.
Dropping the other two Lucky Borg, their armor exploding out their backs,
he turns and fires at five more coming from the Admiral's direction. This
time, they phase right through the bullets and latch onto his shoulders.
They pick him up and begin to carry him off.
Crossfire (struggling): Hey! Put me down! You f***ing bastards, put me
DOWN!!!!
Crossfire disappears into the distance as we turn back to Admiral Avenger.
Lecter: Blake, hmm? His real name, I suppose.
Missycutus looks at Lecter and a smile crosses his face.
Lecter: Oh, that's *wonderful*, Melissa. Yes, that will do *very* nicely.
(very evil grin) Admiral, did you enjoy that? You know, putting a friend
in great peril when you thought you were helping him? Now you'll take all
the blame onto yourself and writhe in guilt, won't you? Of course you will.
You're so predictable.
Lecter picks up the device he took from Avenger earlier and lumbers down the
hall, whistling a jazzy tune to himself. Three Lucky Borg pick up Admiral
Avenger and place him inside a capsule off to the side.
Missycutus: Don't worry, Admiral. Crossfire's resistance is futile.
(a beat) Now about all those damn light jokes...
Missycutus seals the capsule. Inside, Admiral Avenger is bombarded by a
strobe light.
Missycutus: Now don't you worry. It's only UV radiation. It'll take
several hours to cook you through thoroughly.
* * * * *
Admiral T'Lilith and Counselor Tracy enter the bridge.
Chow: Oh good. Do you think we can have Janson back any time soon?
T'Lilith: I need to speak to you -- now.
Chow: Okay.
T'Lilith: In private.
Chow: Okay.
Chi An gets up and strolls toward his office. Tracy and T'Lilith follow.
Inside, Chi An cleans the popcorn off the seats in front of his desk and
offers T'Lilith one of them.
T'Lilith: I have a plan.
Tracy: I still say it's too dangerous.
T'Lilith: What do you think these Lucky Borg are?
Chow: Would you please tell me what your plan is?!?
T'Lilith: T'Kreila has been with the Borg a long time...she was also with
the Lucky Charms for a while. With her help, we might be able to defeat
them and save Missy.
Chi An begins to look around uncomfortably.
Chow: She's not the only one we have to save now.
Tracy: Who else?
Chow: Well, apparently Crossfire was the nitwit in the shuttlecraft.
T'Lilith: Anyone else?
Chow: Your...your husband.
T'Lilith closes her eyes. Her jaw tightens. Her bumpy, wrinkled forehead
becomes more wrinkled.
T'Lilith: Damn him! He cut our link so I wouldn't worry about him. I have
been so preoccupied with T'Kreila that I haven't checked!!
Tracy: Admiral, relax... We'll figure this out. You can chew him out later.
T'Lilith: Okay, look. I want to lead a security detail over to the Borg
ship and get them out. I will be simultaneously mind-melded with my
sister, who will give me the information we need to defeat them.
Chow: *You* want to lead the team? (He shakes his head "No.") Uh-uh. No
way. It's too dangerous. I'm not going to put an Admiral's life in danger.
Besides, your training is in medicine, not --
T'Lilith: I..AM..A..KLINGON! (calming herself down) And a Vulcan. I
have more combat medals than any other physician in Star Fleet and I will
be damned if I'm going to sit by and let those HaDIbaH's murder my husband.
Now either you give me a security team to help me out or I go alone, but
either way, I am going.
Chow: All right. I'll put Janson right on it.
T'Lilith: No. Not Janson.
Chow: Why not?
T'Lilith: I need him to take care of T'Kreila...to make sure we keep the
link while I'm over there.
Counselor Tracy raises an eyebrow in surprise.
Chow: Okay. I'll see what I can do.
FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
COMMERCIAL BREAK
(Based on an actual commercial for ST:TNG airing on Channel 2 these days.)
Every century has its warriors...
[2nd Century: An armored Roman centurion steps forward out of the darkness,
sword held up in salute.]
Every century has its explorers...
[8th Century: A Norseman steps forward.]
Every century has its crusaders...
[12th Century: A crusader kneels before his sword.]
Every century has its croutons...
[20th Century: Sally Ride steps forward dressed in an EVA suit, holding her
helmet in one hand and a fistful of Hidden Valley Ranch Caesar Salad
Croutons in the other.]
Even centuries yet to come...
[25th Century: A group of ST:TCG characters Croutonize into view:
o Chris Crouton, root beer in hand
o Highlander, in kilt and Star Fleet jacket, katana hanging at his side
o Soraya Ghiasi, holding a purring Jez the Wonder Kitty
o Crossfire, compound bow slung over his shoulder, arms crossed
o Melissa Midzor, glaring at the GE soft-white light bulb she's holding
(Notice that the light bulb is not lit)
o Wayne Gretzky, holding his hockey stick upside-down like a magic staff
o Chi An Chow, Cubs hat and jacket over his Star Fleet uniform, two
parakeets chirping happily from their perch on his right shoulder
o Kabeta, smiling and attempting to ignore the green miniature hippopotomi
clustering around her ankles
o Richard Muirden, holding a bouquet of roses and attempting to hand them
to any female that will take them
o half japanese, glaring at the mailbox that she is shaking out, with
lots of origami frogs falling out of it onto the floor
o Admiral Avenger, a black opera cape and Twins cap added to his Admiral's
uniform, reading a small monthly magazine called "Baseball Digest" ]-)
o Counselor Tracy, in his top hat, juggling five tribbles
o The Kunz, grinning in his trademark blue shirt and shorts, arms crossed,
one foot crossed in front of the other as he leans against blank space
without falling]
STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
[We cut to the _Croutonprize_ jumping into Jolt warp.]
7 days a week, only on Junk Mail
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kabeta paces nervously near the communications console, which the Speaker
for the Dead has torn apart. He and Torvald are halfway inside the mess of
wires.
Kabeta: How much longer?
McDonagh: The ship has been taking a pounding lately, Captain. I've barely
had time to pick up the pieces as it is. (pause) Give me another minute.
The Speaker for the Dead crawls out and begins to program the console as
Torvald continues wiring.
Kabeta: Michael, is it going to work or not?
Kleber: The programming is looking good, Captain. (pause, as a light bulb
appears over his head [Hey, this is the _Heisenberg_. Of course the light
bulb actually appeared over his head!]) But we might be able to do
even more with what your idea...
Kabeta: Like?
Kleber: Well, your idea of refitting the No-Doz communications link to
broadcast a random set of frequencies disruptive to the Borg power channels
was great, but a Yoyoboqian mind might be able to send something a bit
more destructive.
Kabeta: A virus?
Kleber: Sure, why not? The Lucky Charms have used them on us. Why not
turn the tables on them?
Kabeta: Good idea. (a beat) And Missy never was able to understand
Yoyoboqians very well, so I bet the Borg won't be able to outthink him!
McDonagh crawls out from under the machinery and replaces the panel.
McDonagh: Well, the hardware should work.
Kleber: _Heisenberg_ to _Croutonprize_. Come in, _Croutonprize_.
Ghiasi (ss): We're a little busy here, _Heisenberg_. Can you hang on a
minute?
Kleber: We need to speak to Lt. Cdr. Zortylwankoid. We may have a way to
penetrate the Borg defenses.
Parker (ss): Really? That could solve our problem then...
McDonagh: What's the problem?
Gretzky (ss): We and the _Chivalier_ are trying to send security squads
into the Lucky Borg ship, but we can't seem to penetrate their sensor
array enough to locate safe transport coordinates. You wouldn't *believe*
all the electronic warfare they're using.
* * * * *
Crossfire is strapped into a chair that allows him little freedom of
movement. His face is strapped in between enough posts that he can barely
move to talk, let alone bite, spit or anything else. It looks like some
sort of medieval torture device, built out of modern components.
The Lucky Borg move away, leaving him alone, unable to move. His bow and
Beretta sit just a few frustrating feet out of his reach.
Crossfire: Let me go, you bastards!!!
* * * * *
Lecter lumbers slowly through the hallways, stopping occasionally to smile
at a Lucky Borg or two.
[Based on "Take Me Out to the Ball Game"]
Lecter: Take me out of the Star Fleet.
Take me into the crowd.
Feed me some humans and Klingonese snacks.
I don't care if they're cooked or just smacked.
Oh, let's drink up all of their root beer
And eat up the drinkers the same.
For it's one, two, three bites you're down
As we hunt our game!!!
Missycutus approaches from a side corridor.
Missycutus: You are ready?
Lecter: The question is...is Crossfire?
Missycutus grins evilly as Lecter laughs out loud. Lecter and Missycutus
lumber off down the hallway together, eventually disappearing except for
the lights on Missy's armor.
FADE TO BLACK
"TO BE CONTINUED"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Next time, on an all-new episode of
Star Trek: The Crouton Generation
"The Silence of the Croutons"
Part 7: "Dark at the End of the Tunnel"
Crossfire faces his greatest challenge ever...himself.
Lecter: You don't like what you see, do you?
And Admiral T'Lilith isn't planning on waiting around to find out who wins.
[T'Lilith steps up onto a Croutonizer pad with ahn woon in hand and a Klingon
knife at her waist.]
T'Lilith: Let's go.
Will the Croutons be able to find a solution?
Hertzman: Don't bet on it.
Or will Crossfire become their undoing?
[Crossfire is still trapped in the chair of medieval torment.]
Crossfire: STOP F***ING WITH MY MIND!!!!!
CLIMACTIC FINISH on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!
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