==================================
Star Trek:  The Crouton Generation
Season 4, pack #7
==================================

Date: Thu, 20 Jun 91 10:20:09 edt
From: "someone now holds the key (Russell, Kerri)" 
Subject: ST:TCG *LONGISH*

[Author's note: This episode takes place after things have settled down a bit
after "Silence of the Croutons"]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The camera pans in on Captain half japanese who is contemplating over an
unopened bottle of "Sapporo" beer.]

Captain's personal log. Stardate, um, I was never good at dates. Things have
been very hectic around the ship. I find myself having no time to do the
things I want to do. Like sleep. I haven't really been in the best of moods
lately...hell, I haven't even felt like flirting for months! maybe I'm
sick...I dont' believe I just said that! Captains never admit they are sick!
I'd better get my act together. (starts doing push-ups on her nuckles)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the Bridge of the _Subaru_...

Palmer: 4 spades!
Kessner: that's a weird opening bid...(we see that he has five spades A,K,J,9
        and 2) Double.
Practor: (sitting across Palmer) If I understand you correctly, 7 NT.
Jellis: (quickly so Practor can't change her mind) Pass.
Palmer: (looking like he's going to kill/faint/scream/bite) uhhh (fainting
        wins and he's out on the floor).
Kessner: I don't think that's what he wanted you to say...
Practor: Let's get him to sick bay...
DQ: It seems he doth not feel well 'tall today...
Jellis: Oh yes, right away....(they look at her)
        Sorry, had to continue the rhyme...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                        "In Posession"

Staring: A multitude of Croutons

Writen by: half japanese (sorry guys)

Directed by: Polar Bears

Music by: The Fixx, Alphaville, Depeche Mode

Produced by: Dickinson College Computer Services

Financed by: Starving College Students

Special Effects by: Orange Jello, Pistaccio Pudding, and Cream of Mushroom Soup
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[In sick bay, Jen-L tries to wake Palmer, while Lt. Kessner stands by...]

Jen-L: Nothing will wake him up. He is in the deepest coma I've ever seen...
        These things should work! I don't understand why they aren't reviving
        him...
Kessner: What could have caused this?
Jen-L: I don't know, Eric. There are no signs of physical damage. It doesn't
        seem self-induced either. I'll have to study it further...
Kessner: I'll notify the Captain.
Palmer: AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH (every
        letter is pronounced)
Jen-L: (looks at the Commander) Are you in pain?
Palmer: (growling with slavia oozing out of his mouth) What a dumb ass question,
        bitch! (takes a swipe at the doctor throwing her across the room where
        her head smacks against the wall and she sinks to the floor, extremely
        unconscious) HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA (evil laugh) Your turn now, Ericccccc.
        (Kessner turns a pleasant shade of white and passes out) Aw, you're no
        fun any more. (leaves the room)
Kessner: (cautiously opens his eyes makes sure Palmer really left) I don't
        believe he fell for that...(ic) Sancho Panza, have some of your officers
        be on the lookout for Cdr. Palmer. He's not himself.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
COMERCIAL BREAK
[a crowded shuttle craft, many passangers are falling onto others, their odor
rendering others unconscious]

Voice Over: Some people smell enough to disgust even a Klingon.

[A Klingon with a clothes pin on his nose rips an obviously smelly character
in half and sits down next to a nervous, but squeaky clean chap.]

Voice Over: Aren't you glad you use Dial?

[A smelly person knocks five unconscious]

Voice Over: Don't you wish everyone did?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Fade in to engineering. Dave Quixote is harassing Ensign Yi]

DQ: Why then hast thou not seen the truth?
Yi: I have. My truth just happens to be different from yours.
DQ: Thou must accept that thy truth is not correct.
Yi: Ha! Up yours.
DQ: That's not very civil, my friend.
[Palmer is standing behind them listening]
Yi: Can we drop this conversation? It's pointless.
DQ: Indeed. Let me know when you are willing to finally accept what is right.
Palmer: (Breathing heavily) You lot disgust me!!! (he picks up the two ensigns
        and knocks their heads together, then throws the two into a far wall.
        He then looks around at the other crew members who are standing with
        their mouths wide open in total shock.) Who's next?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[In the Karaoke (like Ten Forward), half japanese is singing badly to her crew
who is being very polite by not throwing the rotten tomatoes that they would
love to peg at their captain]

hj: (singing the Elvis classic the way the Japanese do)[Author's note: I hate
        Elvis] Rub me Tender, Rub me Seet, Baby I rub you....
Practor: My ears are too sensitive for this!
Jellis: This is not music. I'll sing next so she'll shut up.
Practor: Careful. It's not wise to anger the Captain...
Jellis: (drunkenly stands up) She won't care...(yells) Hey, Cap'n! I'm next!
hj: How about a duet? How about "You Are My Sunshine"?
Jellis: (programing the song) I'll sing the harmony
Practor: (groan) I can't take this.
Kessner: (enters the Karaoke and aproaches Ensign Practor) You ok?
Practor: She's been at it for hours.
Kessner: Hm. Something must be wrong. Maybe I shouldn't tell her...
Practor: Tell her what?
Kessner: About Cdr. Palmer. He's not himself.
Practor: You should tell her!
Kessner: Lemmie see what Sancho Panza thinks first.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[In engineering, Palmer is playing his own variety of handball, using several
engineer dudes as the ball]

Palmer: (growling) You lot can't bounce back well enough! (reaches for
        a random ensign)

[a female security guard walks in to see Palmer throwing people around as if
they were empty garbage cans]

Security Guard: (ic) We need security officers in engineering. We've got an
        emergency over here.
Palmer: Hi Doll!
SG: Get your hands...(SCREAM)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
COMERCIAL BREAK
100 years ago we brought you Death Cereal. (see box)

75 years ago we brought you new and improved Death Cereal. (See box)

50 years ago we brought you mega improved Death Cereal. (See box)

25 years ago we brought you mightely improved Death Cereal. (See box)

And now, it's time to bring you something else!!!
Introducing Space Age Death Cereal!!! Mikey likes it! (see kid eating cereal
that looks nothing like what it should look like)
Mikey: This is def!

Your kids will like it too!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[back in the Karaoke]

hj: C'mon Jellis, have some more beer.
Jellis: (hicup) no thanx Cap'n (hic) I can't have anymore just yet (burp)
hj: Some sake then?
Jellis: No nope
Practor: Captain, is something the matter? I've never known you to drink like
        this before.
hj: I'm not drunk. Yet.
Practor: What's wrong?
hj: Nothing. Why aren't you drinking? Have some beer. (pours Ensign Practor
        a glass of beer).

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[See an anchordude]
anchordude: We interrupt this episode of Star Trek the Crouton Generation to
        bring you this special news update. According to our latest
        calculations, at least 7 Croutons are reported to have survived the
        latest onslaught of what the administrators in charge of this assult
        like to call "Finals" and what the Croutons who had to suffer through
        it refer to as "Hell".  It is uncertain how many Croutons actually
        survived this brutal attack; it is believed that many Croutons fled
        the area as soon as they were able to complete their mission. Our
        reporter in the street, Kermit the Frog, has found one such brave
        Crouton. And we're going to show you that interview, after this
        important message from our sponcer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[sign flashes on screen] INSERT COMMERCIAL HERE

[they replay the Dial commercial shown earlier, followed by the Death Cereal
commercial]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kermit: Hi ho! Kermit the Frog here reporting from the street with a Crouton
        who managed to escape the hands of the administration after "Finals
        Hell" Let's have a nice round of applause for the Drewid!
Drewid: What do you want???
Kermit: Uh. I was wondering how you managed to escape.
Drewid: It was easy--my parents came down and picked me up.
Other: You had it easy, I had to take a train.
Kermit: (to other) and who might you be?
Other: My name is Eugene Yee, but everyone calls me Euge.
Kermit: Hi, Euge! Was your escape full of excitement, action, and danger?
Euge: I'll say! I missed the train the first day and had to be brought back
        the next day! Didn't know if I'd make it or not the next day. Boy, was
        my mom pissed!
Kermit: But neither of you had any problems getting away?
Drewid: Of course not!
Euge: But I didn't really want to leave...
Drewid: Me neither...
Kermit: I don't understand this phenomena...Back to you, anchordude.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
anchordude: Thanks for that enlightening interview. We now bring you back to
        the normally scheduled program in progress. This has been a WVAX news
        brief.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[bridge]
hj: ....understand why, Kessner. Don't let it happen again.
Kessner: Belive me after those 500 sit ups I won't!
hj: (smiles) Commander, it's good to have you back to normal again, seems the
        "exorcise" did you both some good.
Palmer: Sure feels good not to be posessed anymore! I'm glad your little
        problem was taken care of too.
hj: (grining mischieviously) Indeed. (chuckles) Take us out of here guys.

--------------------------------------

Date: Sun, 23 Jun 91 19:57:18 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 "Chi a Pet" (* Long *)

Some stuff to note about this episode before you delete it:

1)  It's a Chi episode.  (Obviously.)
2)  Runaway Daemon has more lines. ]-)
3)  The new Dickinsonians are finally making appearances.
4)  Cameos by Missy, Rhee and Levar Burton.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Captain's Log, Stardate 103032.3:
     Picard's funeral is over and we leave Earth in a few days.  In the
meantime, we've got some shore leave coming and I'm heading to Chicago to
visit my parents and catch a couple of Cubs games.
     I'm also thinking about buying a pet or two before leaving town.  Hey,
if hj can have a wolf, I think I'm entitled!  I've sent a message to my friend
Tim Larkin, looking for advice and expect to hear back from him within a day."

Near first base in the upper part of the lower deck of Wrigley Field...

Announcer:  Now at bat, the second baseman, number twenty-three, Rajiv
  Sandberg.

The crowd cheers.  Captain Chow is especially loud.  He wears his Star Fleet
communicator on his Cubs shirt and under his Cubs jacket, so if not for that,
no one would know he was even in Star Fleet.

Umpire:  Sttrrrraaaaiiieeeeeke!!!
Chow:  Aw, you're blind!!  Get some Retinax!

Chi's communicator chirps.

Chow:  What???  I told you never to call me here.
Umpire:  Ball!
Daemon:  Sorry, Captain.  You told me to call you if the message from
  Commander Larkin came in.
Chow:  Okay, play it through please.

The pitch...the crack of a bat...the ball is going back, back...way back,
to the wall.

Chow:  Holy Cow!!

Chi An and the rest of the crowd leap to their feet, screaming and cheering
and clapping and hopping up and down and whistling.  Sandberg rounds the
bases, following the other two baserunners.  The three meet at home plate
to slap hands and exchange congratulations.

Announcer (ringing a bell three times):  The score is now Cubs 6, Senators 2.

Chow:  Sorry about that, Commander.  Would you play it again?
Daemon (annoyed):  Yes, Captain!

A moment, and then the prerecorded message plays through.

Larkin:  Parakeets.  It's got to be parakeets.  They *definitely* sound like
  you, Chi.
Chow (thoughtfully):  Parakeets.  I like that.
Larkin:  By the way, Chi, the Cubs suck.  You *know* Jennifer Brett could
  beat them by herself with one hand tied behind her back.
Chow:  Yeah, riiiiiiight.

FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
              STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
			"Chi a Pet"

Written by Admiral Avenger
(Inspired by an old conversation with Tim Larkin)
Title by Crossfire

Guest stars
	Simon and Garfunkle (the birds, silly, not the singers!) as themselves
	Jack Brickhouse as the Announcer
	Tracy Desmond as Rear Admiral Liza Ramos

Special guest stars
	Christopher Plummer as Admiral Wesley Van Tripp
	Levar Burton as Admiral Geordi LaForge

Directed by Tim Larkin

Music by Bruce Springsteen

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
_Chivalier_ Croutonizer Room 2.  A lone figure appears on the console,
a suitcase on the pad next to him and a covered birdcage in his hands.

Abdul:  Welcome back, Captain.  Did you enjoy your trip?
Chow (smiling):  Oh, yeah!  The Cubs took a three-game series from the
  Senators and I got this.

He tosses a regulation baseball to her.

Abdul (missing the significance):  Uh...oookay.
Chow:  I caught a foul ball hit by Jerry Bonilla!

>From inside the birdcage, we hear a chirp.

Abdul:  Oooo, what's that?
Chow (uncovering the cage):  I'd like you to meet my two parakeets, Simon
  and Garfunkle.
Abdul:  Why'd you name them Simon and Garfunkle?
Chow:  Family tradition.  We *always* name our birds Simon and Garfunkle.
Abdul:  Ooookay.
				* * * * *
Lt. Cdr. Runaway Daemon works on a more efficient mail-routing system for
the No-Doz communications feed.  Acting Ensign Ranaluin, the Ship's Minstrel,
strolls by.

Ranaluin:  Bravely bold, Sir Robin, brought forth from Camelot.
	   He was not afraid to die.  No, brave Sir Robin!
Daemon:  Um, do you mind?  I'm trying to work here.
Ranaluin:  Lo, Runaway Daemon, he programs through the night.
	   His screens are up and his scripts are made.
	   Lo, Runaway Daemon.
Daemon:  Argh!!

Whoosh.  The turbolift doors open.  Two small birds come flying out of the
turbolift at warp speeds and begin to circle the bridge at those same
speeds.  Daemon has to duck each time they pass, as they seem to aim
themselves directly at his forehead.  Ensign Gangster gets up from the
Ops station, a phaser ready.

Gangster:  Stupid birds.
Aedoni:  They are nice birds.

Aedoni puts out a finger and Simon lands on it.  He chirps away happily
from his new perch.  Garfunkle decides to land in the middle of Daemon's
keyboard and types incorrect code as he hops around.

Daemon:  Hey!
Gangster:  I wonder whose stupid birds these are?
Chow (stepping out of the turbolift):  They're my "stupid" birds, Ensign.
Gangster (blushing):  Oh, sorry, Captain.  Did I say "stupid" birds?
  I meant *cute* birds.
Chow (removing the phaser from Gangster's hand):  Uh-huh.
Carter:  Captain, we've just had word from Star Fleet Command.  Admiral
  Van Tripp would like to make an inspection tour of the ship before we
  leave orbit.
Chow:  Oh, okay.  Make the necessary arrangements.  Let's say...15 minutes?
  Everybody in dress uniform.
Simon:  Chirp.
Chow:  Come on, birds.  Time to go to bed.
				* * * * *
Fifteen minutes later in Croutonizer Room 2, Chow, Carter and Abdul are
dressed out in full dress uniforms.  Counselor Tracy enters with a long
coat and top hat, juggling.  Three forms appear on the Croutonizer pads.

Chow:  John, you call that a dress uniform?

Tracy looks down at his clothes and the juggling balls hit the floor.

Tracy:  Yes.  Don't you?

Three figures finish materializing on the pads.  Two wear the uniforms of
Star Fleet Admirals, the other wears civilian clothes.  The one with the
most gold on his collar steps forward, a hand extended.

Van Tripp:  Captain Chow?  Wesley Van Tripp.
Chow (shaking hands):  Welcome aboard, Admiral.  My first officer, Bill
  Carter...(glaring aside)...and Counselor Tracy.
Tracy:  Don't step on my balls, Admiral.

Bill rolls his eyes.  Paula covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to
suppress a giggle.  Chi fumes.  John kneels next to the Admiral and begins
to pick up his juggling balls.

Van Tripp:  Ah, I see.  (ahem)  This is Rear Admiral Liza Ramos of Star
  Fleet Weapons Systems and this...

A smaller black man steps forward from behind Admiral Van Tripp.  His
eyes look...just a little odd.  His hair has a frosting of grey all over.

Van Tripp:  This is Admiral Geordi LaForge of Star Fleet Engineering.
LaForge (smiling and extending a hand):  Retired.

Bill points up toward his own eyes.

Carter:  Didn't you used to..uh..
LaForge:  I wore the top-of-the-line VISORs for years, Commander, yes.
  (a beat)  I had these implants put in a few months ago.  They're still
  experimental, but...(smiling)...for the first time in my life, I can
  *really* see.

Admiral Van Tripp claps his hands together.

Van Tripp:  Well, shall we begin the tour?
Chow:  Certainly.
				* * * * *
The entourage exits the turbolift onto the bridge.

LaForge:  I must say, Captain, I am really impressed by these Jolt-Warp
  engines of yours.  Boy, if we'd had those on the _Enterprise_...
Ramos:  Seems like Admiral LaForge can't keep his mind off his work even
  in his retirement.
Daemon (under his breath):  Since when has a starship Chief Engineer
  *not* done that?
Chow:  Admirals, this is Lt. Cdr. Runaway Daemon, my second officer.  He
  keeps the computers running around here.
Harry:  Holy Cow, Captain Chow!  It's the Star Fleet Commander!
Daemon (blushing):  As you know, the current generation of starship
  computers are programmed with full artificial personalities.  Captain
  Chow picked a rather...ahem...odd choice for Harry.
Ramos:  Captain Chow, if I may, I'd like to go over some possible weapon
  design changes with your security chief.  Considering the new threat
  posed by the Borg...(she becomes suddenly quiet)
Van Tripp:  "That Admiral Avenger has been ramming down our throats the
  past few days", I think you were going to say, Liza.
Ramos (flustered):  Considering the new threat, I wanted to go over with
  him some of the possibilities we're considering.
Van Tripp:  Perhaps you and I can chat in the meantime, Captain.
				* * * * *
Van Tripp sits before Captain Chow's desk.  Chow is in the adjoining room
fetching him coffee.  LaForge walks throughout the room, admiring each and
every detail, including the large picture of Wrigley Field on one wall.

Chow (entering):  Here you go, Admiral.
Van Tripp:  Thank you, Captain.  (a beat)  What's your opinion on the
  Borg situation, Captain?
Chow (sitting down):  Well, sir.  I was serving aboard the _Nintendo_ during
  the Dilemma.  We were way out on the opposite frontier when the Borg hit...
  By the time we made it back, it was pretty much over apart from a little
  last-minute mopping-up.  (playing with a pen)  They're tough...and I think
  they're going to be tougher now.
LaForge (looking over from next to the covered birdcage):  Melissa Midzor's
  one of the best I've seen during my career, Admiral.  I think she could
  have shown Montgomery Scott a thing or two.
Chow (smiling):  She did.

LaForge lifts the cover of the birdcage curiously.  The inane chirping stops.
In a voice that sounds remarkably like that of a parrot doing an impression of
Ricardo Montalban's Khan Noonian Singh:

Simon:  Admiral!
Garfunkle:  Admiral!
Simon & Garfunkle:  Admiral!  Admiral!
Chow (hopping to his feet):  What the--?
LaForge:  Oh, cute. (smiling) Talking parakeets.
Chow:  But I haven't trained them yet!  And the shopkeeper told me they were
  untrained...
Van Tripp:  Seems like you have a mystery on your hands, Captain.
Simon:  Admiral!
Garfunkle:  Admiral!
Simon & Garfunkle:  Admiral!  Admiral!
Chow:  C'mon, birds.  That's getting kind of annoying.
Simon:  ADMIRAL!
Garfunkle:  ADMIRAL!
Simon & Garfunkle:  ADMIRAL!  ADMIRAL!
				* * * * *
"Captain's Log, Stardate 103053.4:
     We have arrived back in the Large Magellanic Cloud on schedule and
are proceeding to Starbase LMC1 to leave off some of the engineering
repair equipment Lt. Cdr. Savan requested from Earth.  My birds have
not repeated their mysterious actions since Admirals Van Tripp and
LaForge left the _Chivalier_, but I am still concerned..."

Lt. Cdr. Savan looks up from her repairs to find Captain Chow and Muirden
standing over.  She looks very tired and has smudges of grease all over
her face and uniform.

Savan:  Oh, thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!
Chow:  How has it been going?
Savan:  Not well.  She did a lot more damage than I at first thought.
Muirden:  Fortunately, Rhee has had some help in her repairs.

Missy walks around a corner, talking before realizing the Captains are
in her way.

Midzor:  Hey, Rhee, have you seen the plasma field suppressor?
Chow:  Hi, Missy.  How are you feeling?
Midzor:  Why does everybody keep asking me that?  I feel fine, except for
  the fact that nobody will tell me why the keep asking me how I feel nor
  why I have no memory of about a month of my life ending about two weeks
  ago.  I mean, why on Earth do I keep having to see the Counselors?  It's
  damn frustrating not knowing what's wrong with me but being told constantly
  that there was something wrong with me.
Chow:  Sorry I asked.  How are the repairs going?
Midzor:  Pretty well.  I assume you brought the parts we need?
Chow:  Yup.  Croutonizers are sending most of it over right now.  The
  rest will be over by anti-grav through docking ports in a little while.
Savan:  I should probably get in a nap before the next phase of repairs.
  Missy, do you mind?
Midzor:  Of course not, it's your ship.  I'm supposed to visit Eliana in
  a few minutes anyway.  (aside)  I'll tell you one thing though, I sure
  am glad to have the vacation from Captain hj.  She's a slave driver!

Missy and Rhee say their farewells and head off in different directions.
Muirden and Chow begin walking toward the turbolifts.

Chow:  Captain, the real reason I'm here is to borrow your first officer.
Muirden:  Oh?  You can have him for a few days, no trouble.  He's bored
  He's bored these days anyway...I'm mostly doing paperwork over on the
  Starbase myself.  Let me tell you something -- I don't want to make
  Admiral any time soon if it's anything like this.
Chow:  Me either.  Thanks.
				* * * * *
Larkin:  So you got the parakeets, huh?  That was a *joke*, Chi.  I wasn't
  serious.
Chow:  Now you tell me!  (a beat)  Actually, I like parakeets.
Larkin:  So, do I get to see them?
Chow:  Yes.  In about 10 seconds, actually.

The turbolift doors open and they exit, heading for Chow's office.

Chow:  Here they are.
Larkin:  They sure look like parakeets.
Chow:  But they don't act totally like parakeets.  When Van Tripp and
  LaForge were in here they started saying "Admiral! Admiral!" all over
  the place.  (a beat)  It got really annoying.
Larkin (laughing):  You didn't get parakeets then.  Yub yub.  Chi got
  admiral birds.  Chi got admiral birds.  Chi got admiral birds.
Chow:  Admiral birds?
Larkin:  They're a type of parakeet that was developed by the Genesis
  project.  Somehow a few them survived when they got beamed up to the
  Klingon ship with Kirk and the rest.  They got loose on Vulcan and some
  visiting privateer figured he could turn a profit by breeding them.
  (a beat)  Some people think they retained a few genes from Khan Noonian
  Singh himself, hence that little quirk around Admirals.  Most people
  don't have any trouble because they never go near Star Fleet Admirals.
  They can't tell the difference.
Chow:  Hmm...that's a pretty strange story.  (a beat)  Besides, how'd you
  know all that?
Larkin:  The Genesis stuff was declassified years ago, Chi.  And one of
  my Academy instructors had an admiral bird in his office.  If you don't
  think *that* was annoying...
Chow:  All right.  I get the picture.
				* * * * *
"Captain's Log, Supplemental.
     We're done supplying the _Melbourne_ and Tim has solved the mystery
of the admiral birds, so we should be off our next mission in a few hours."

Chow's door chime chirps.

Chow:  Come in.  (door opens)  I don't think you should be in here.
Bradford:  Hello, Captain.  You forgot to submit your 13478A-07.  Oh,
  look -- parakeets!
Simon:  Admiral!
Garfunkle:  Admiral!
Simon & Garfunkle:  Admiral!  Admiral!
Chow:  ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!

FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On the Admiral's next exciting episode of

               STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
			"The Prisoner"

Crossfire's leave of absence is interrupted...
[Crossfire is seated at the helm of his ship, the _Courser_, as a white
  gas begins to spew from the air vents.  Just as he realizes what is
  happening, he falls unconscious.]

...and his captors are full of surprises.
The Imperial Blizzard:  Well, hello, old man.

Will Crossfire escape...
Crossfire (to a taxi driver):  Take me as far as you can.

...or will his mysterious captors put an end to his career?
[Close-up on a frowning Crossfire.  We hear a mysterious, but familiar
  voice from off-camera.]
Voice:  That would be telling.

BLATANT PLAGIARISM on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!

--------------------------------------


Date: Wed, 3 Jul 91 13:00:27 -0600
From: zecca@tramp (Emulator of Borg)
Subject: ST:TCG4 (9k, 18 blocks, 218 lines)

Storm clouds -- black, menacing, with a crash of thunder and the jagged flare
of lightning.  The thunder continues and merges with the high-pitched scream
of the shuttlecraft tearing out of the clouds and heading toward Star Fleet
Headquarters in San Francisco.

The shuttle lands outside SFHQ and a disgruntled Crossfire storms out of
the shuttle and into the building.

Inside the building, we see Crossfire walking toward us quickly down a
long corridor, a definite purpose in his stride.

A door whooshes open and Crossfire bursts in.  We see a man in Admiral's
uniform sitting at the desk.  We see Crossfire gesticulating angrily and
the language is obviously quite strong, even though we can't hear it.
Admiral Bowman is quiet and thoughtful throughout this and says nothing.
Crossfire finally slams down an envelope on the desk and storms out.

In a small spaceport outside San Francisco, Crossfire hurriedly loads
supplies into his small _Stiletto_ class vessel, the _USS Courser_.  A man
nearby, who looks remarkably like either Chris Crouton or an undertaker,
although he is dressed in spaceport worksuit, loads oxygen into the
ship's storage facility.  Crossfire seals up the doors and begins to
run through the pre-flight procedures with the control tower.  Suddenly
a strange white gas begins to spew out his air vents and, just as he
realizes what is happening, he passes out, unconscious.

He awakens inside a room which looks remarkably like his old quarters
at Star Fleet Academy, except that his roommate, Chris Orr, appears to
have never moved in.  He jumps up and moves to the window, where he sees
a village reminiscient of somewhere he once stayed on shore leave.

Quick cut to:
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
               STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
			"The Prisoner"

Written by Admiral Avenger
(With heavy borrowing from George Markstein, David Tomblin and
  Patrick McGoohan)

Guest stars
	"Stormin' Norman" Schwarzkopf as Admiral Bowman
	Ken Stern as The Imperial Blizzard

Directed by Matt Ender

Music by Ron Grainer

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Crossfire bursts out of his room and into the open air.  He then looks
down and realizes what he is wearing.  It looks like the old grey cadet
uniforms from the Academy...except that pinned to the chest of the uniform
is a large button.  The button is emblazoned with a penny-farthing bicycle
and a large number..."6".

Crossfire:  What the f*** is going on?

He sees a phone booth nearby and goes to it.  It has not slot for a UFP
Creditcard, so he simply dials up the operator.  A young Klingon woman
wearing a striped shirt (horizontal stripes, alternating white and red)
appears on the small screen.  She too wears a similar button to his
own...with the number "237".

Operator:  Number please?
Crossfire:  Get me Star Fleet Command.
Operator:  Number please?
Crossfire:  I want to call Star Fleet, dammit.
Operator (losing patience):  Only local calls are allowed, sir.  What is
  your number, sir?
Crossfire:  I haven't got a number, you ninny.  (Hangs up.)

Crossfire heads down toward the street.  He sees a sign that says "Taxi"
that points down one direction and he heads that way.  He comes to a spot
where three small, open hovercraft are parked.

He looks around for a driver, then climbs in and tries to start the
hovercraft without success.

Driver (from behind is shoulder, in perfect Standard):  Where to, sir?

The driver is a Romulan female and wears a uniform very similar to that
of the phone operator, except for the taxi driver's cap on her head.

Driver (in Rancher):  Where do you want to go?
Crossfire:  The nearest Star Fleet installation.
Driver:  We're only a local service, sir.
Crossfire:  Take me as far as you can.

She begins to drive them down the road toward the "outskirts" of the
small village.

Crossfire:  Why did you speak to me in Rancher?
Driver:  Doesn't everyone?
Crossfire:  I suppose it will be a waste of time to ask you where in the
  hell I am?
Driver:  As a matter of fact, sir, I thought you might be a Rancher.  You
  had one of their particularly argumentative looks on your face.  (pause,
  then smiling)  You're certainly too good looking to be a Tellarite.
Crossfire:  What would Ranchers and Tellarites be doing in the same place?
Driver:  What we all are, sir.  You never know who you might meet here.
Crossfire:  Harumph.

Alice and the white rabbit jog by headed the other way on the road.  They
wave in greeting at Crossfire as the hovercraft moves by.  He rubs his
eyes and shakes his head.

Crossfire:  Stop here.

The driver stops near a little meadow enclosed in trees.  He hops out and
begins to walk off.

Driver:  Uh, the charge is two units, sir...

He continues on, ignoring her.

Driver:  Oh well.  You can pay me next time.  Be seeing you!
				* * * * *
Crossfire crosses through the meadow and finds it turning into a small
city park.  There are several generic statues around and about, but
something feels a little...odd about them.

The Imperial Blizzard stands up from a nearby park bench and moves to
greet him.

TIB:  Well, hello, old man.  I see you've finally arrived in this neck
  of the woods.  Enjoying your stay?
Crossfire:  I am not.  (a beat)  And where the hell am I, anyway?
TIB:  Where we all are.  There's a friend of mine that wants to talk
  to you.

It as it this point that Crossfire notices that TIB is dressed in the
same silly striped shirt that the women he's so far come across have
been dressed in.  TIB also wears a numbered badge...with the number "17".

TIB:  Just go to the clock tower in the center of town.  You can't miss it.
  He's waiting for you inside.
Crossfire:  Will he tell me what the f*** is going on here?
TIB:  That's his job, old man.

TIB shakes hands and begins to walk away.

TIB:  Be seeing you!
				* * * * *
Crossfire finds the clock tower.  He knocks politely at the door a few
times, then finding no answer he enters.  Zortylwankoid stands inside
in a butler's outfit, waiting for him.

Crossfire:  What the f*** are you doing here?
Zortyl:  Making your breakfast, you silly person.  Not that that is the
  sort of thing I'd like to be doing.  No, I'd much rather be upstairs
  programming my new language andfixingallthebugsormaybeplayinglarnor
  findingsomenewdatastructuretoincorporateintoBableandIamreallygetting
  boreddoingthisservingwenchstuffandIhavenoideawhyIamdoingsuchathingand--
Crossfire:  All right!!  (a beat)  All right.  Sorry I asked.  Look,
  the Imperial Blizzard told me there was a friend of his here I should
  meet.
Zortyl:  Yes.  Right this way.  (starts walking)  He's been waiting to
  meet you.

Two large doors slide open and Crossfire descends into a large circular
room.  The walls appear to be viewscreens all around.  What appears to be
a large pool ball sits in the center of the room, surrounded by computers.

Zortyl:  I'll be getting the breakfast, sir.
Voice (from inside the pool ball):  Thank you.  (a beat)  Come on down
  here, Crossfire.  I'm sure you have plenty of questions.
Crossfire:  You bet your ass I've got questions.  Where the f*** am I?

The ball begins to rotate in place and we can see that it is in fact a
peculiar chair, with someone sitting in it.

Voice:  In the Village.  (a beat)  Number Six, why did you resign?
Crossfire:  I am not a number.  My name is Crossfire.  And I didn't resign.
Voice:  You wanted to.
Crossfire:  Who the f*** are you?
Voice:  The new Number Two.

The figure completes his rotation and we see Admiral Avenger sitting
before us, dressed very much like Jon Pertwee's Doctor.  Admiral Avenger
wears the penny-farthing "No. 2" button on the outside of his jacket.

Crossfire:  If you're Number Two, then who is Number One?
Avenger:  That would be telling.  (a beat)  Why did you want to resign,
  Crossfire?
Crossfire:  This is a bunch of bullsh***.
Avenger (in Crossfire's own voice):  Of course it is, you ninny.
				* * * * *
Crossfire wakes up with a start and looks around.  He's at the helm of
his _Stiletto_-class ship.  The black of space, broken only by the light
of a billion stars, lies outside the cabin window.  A half-eaten sandwich
lies on one part of the console.

Crossfire:  I gotta stop with these late-night snacks.  They're giving
  me Avenger's dreams.

The _Courser_ zooms off into the night.

FADE TO BLACK
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On the Admiral's next exciting episode of

               STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION
		       "Good Mourning"

Admiral T'Lilith may already be a winner...
Avenger:  Congratulations.

...but Admiral Avenger's mind is on other things.
Avenger (to Data):  Do you miss Picard?

Will a visit to France help him resolve his feelings...
Avenger:  I...I never got the chance to say good-bye.

...or will he continue on a self-destructive melancholy streak?
Avenger:  257 years and I still can't deal with death.

DEPRESSING MEMORIAL on STAR TREK: THE CROUTON GENERATION!