1920 lines
72 KiB
Plaintext
1920 lines
72 KiB
Plaintext
The Hitchhikers Guide to Star Trek - Part 1
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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SCENE 1:
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Enterprise Bridge. Everyone at his/her stations.
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Data: Captain, sensors are picking up two vessels ahead. One appears to be
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firing upon the other. However, I am receiving no distress signals.
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Picard: Is it the Borg, Mr. Data?
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Data: I believe it is the Borg, sir. The larger ship appears to be
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rectangular in shape.
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Riker: Red Alert! Shields up! Fire all weapons!
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Picard: Delay that order, Number One. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not
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even kidnapped yet. Therefore, I am in charge of this ship!
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Riker: Oh, that's right. Sorry, sir. I'll wait until you've been kidnapped,
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and *then* I'll fire at the Borg ship, with you in it!
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Picard: Err..., right! What about the other ship, Data? Is it the Romulans?
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Data: Unknown, Captain. It's shaped like ... a shoe.
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Picard: A shoe?
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Riker: It must be the rumored Romulan Nike class. It's supposed to run
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faster, jump farther, has better shields for shock absorption, and a little
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pump on top that you can squeeze. I read about it in this week's _Playbeing_
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... err, (avoiding the questioning gaze of Troi) only for the articles, of
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course. It's supposed to be top secret. Didn't you see it, Captain?
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Picard: You mean that article on page 42, right after the holoimages of
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Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six? Of course
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not! Everyone knows that I only read William Shakespeare and Oolon Colluphid.
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Data, on screen.
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On the screen, holoimages of Eccentrica Gallumbits of Eroticon Six flash by.
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She is shown in a variety of rather creative poses. Her three breasts hanging.
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Picard: The Borg, Mr. Data!
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Data: My apologies, sir. I thought you meant ...
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Picard: Thank you, Mr. Data!
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On the screen, we now see the Borg ship tractor-beaming a much smaller,
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white, shoe-shaped ship. It's shields almost gone, offering no resistance.
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Hushed disappointments fill the bridge.
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Picard: (coughs) Worf, open a channel to the ... shoe.
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Worf: Channel opened, sir.
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Eddie: Hi there! I'm Eddie, the shipboard computer here at the Heart of Gold,
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and I want to be your friend!
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Picard: (standing up, straightening his uniform) I'm Jean-Luc Picard, Captain
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of the USS Enterprise. I notice that you are having some difficulties. Do you
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wish our assistance.
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Eddie: Well, hello, Jean-Luc! Oh yeah, I can definitely use an extra hand over
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here. You see, I'm trying to make some tea.
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Riker: Tea?
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Data: Tea. An ancient Earth beverage originated in Asia. China, to be precise.
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It consists of dried leaves in boiled water.
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Eddie: Yep, just like your robot says! With milk.
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Riker: Squirted out of a cow?
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Data: Which, I believe, is an English tradition. By the way, I am not a robot.
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I'm an android.
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Wesley: (whispers) Contractions, Data!
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Data: What? Oh, I mean, _I am_ an android.
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Picard: Well, that's all very nice. I am sure we can arrange for some tea to
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be made. Right, Mr. LaForge?
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Geordi: It will require redesigning the data structures of our food
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synthesizers, reprogramming the holodeck to create solid matters simulating
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Asiatic plant life, implementing an error checking protocol that allows the
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two to communicate in parallel, and creating a user-friendly, menu-driven,
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icon-based graphics user interface with mouse support and on-line,
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context-sensitive, hypertext help. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll have it
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purring like a Syranian monkey-cow in heat.
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Picard: Make it so, Lieutenant. (turning to Eddie on the screen) Actually,
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the difficulty I was referring to was the Borg that is currently attacking
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you.
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Eddie: Huh? What Borg? Hold on, let me allocate a couple megajoules to my
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external sensors. (pause) Yikes! Hey, guys, I'm being attac about this. I'll
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get back to you in a sec.
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[Insert 30 seconds of Nike Michael Jordon promo commercial here, interrupted
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by an Energizer rabbit drumming in ... "Thump! Thump! Thump! And it keeps
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going, and going, ..."]
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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SCENE 2:
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Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Heart of Gold, Arthur, Ford, Zaphod, and
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Trillian are staring at the rear viewer as if they are being attacked by the
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Borg, which, as it happens, they are. The ship continuous to rock
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continuously as it absorbs blows upon blows of Borg's phasers. Marvin begins
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to whistle a new tune that he had just made up ...
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Arthur: So, this is it. We're all going to die.
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Ford: Over a cup of tea.
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Trillian: With milk.
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Marvin: Don't bother to ask me what tune I'm whistling, because even if I
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tell you, you won't understand it. Here I am, brain the size of a planet,
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reduced to entertaining myself by making music. Music. Oh, how I hate music.
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By the way, our shields can last another 23.2536 seconds, in case anyone's
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wondering.
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He paused for what he calculates to the nanosecond the amount of time
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required for an average human being and an average Betelgeusian to register
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in their pity cerebrums the destruction time that he had just cited, then
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added another 1.2548 seconds to compensate for this particular crew.
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Marvin: I'm not getting you down at all, am I?
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Zaphod: Hey, guys, lighten up! I'm sure we can think of something! Let's see
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(looking under the control console) ... where's Eddie's plug? Maybe we can,
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like, pull it or something.
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Marvin: I thought you wanted excitement and adventure and really wild things.
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Zaphod: Shut up, Marvin. Zarquons, I need a drink!
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Eddie: Hi guys! (coming back, he startled everyone on the Heart of Gold.
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Zaphod bangs both of his heads under the control console) Did someone say a
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drink? Come on, give me a break! Here I am, being attacked by a Borg,
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whatever _that_ is, and first you asked me to make you some tea, and now you
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want a drink??!! All right, what'll it be?
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Zaphod: Some Gargle Blasters, you misaligned piece of Kronian El-Cheapo
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Silicon! Now get us outta here!
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Eddie: On the rocks?
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Zaphod: I said, GET US OUTTA HERE !!!!!!!
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Eddie: Okay, okay. Gee, you don't have to take it so personally. Now, where
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would you like to visit today. I am programmed to take you ...
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Zaphod: ANYWHERE !!!!!!
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Marvin: If I may be so bold as to interrupt, which I know is pointless anyway
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as nobody ever listens to what I have to say. Nobody ever cares about what I
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thinks, not that it's anyone's fault. My intelligence is so mind-bogglingly
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vast that nobody can even _began_ to understand what I am thinking. Anyway,
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I just like to mention that we will all be dissipated into our composing
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molecules in 5.2387 seconds, not that I'm counting. It's being nice knowing
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you all ...
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Eddie: Anywhere? Hmmmm... well, can someone at least give me a seed for the
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random number generator?
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Zaphod lunges toward the control console, hitting a combination of buttons
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and switches all at once. Suddenly, the bridge begins to bend out of shape.
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Space and time warps on top of itself and falls over. Traffic lights appear
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out of nowhere and amuse themselves by handing out parking tickets. The
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last decimal digit of pi shys away into a corner and hides itself from
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mathematicians forever.
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It starts to rain "We are the World" albums.
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What will happen to our beloved Enterprise? Will they be able to stop the
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Borg? What about the Heart of Gold? Will it survive the Borg's phasers? Does
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Arthur still have his pocket fluff? Is anyone carrying a towel? Finally, the
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question that has been burning in our hearts since the beginning of time ...
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will Arthur finally be able to get his cup of tea? With milk? For the answers
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to these, and many other, totally irrelevant questions, stay tuned for the
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next exciting episode of ...
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The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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SCENE 3:
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Last time, the Borg was just about to destroy the Heart of Gold, along with
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all of its crew, while the Enterprise helps out by making some tea ...
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Data: Captain, I am getting some very strange readings.
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Picard: Explain.
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Data: Well, it appears that the Heart of Gold has suddenly disappeared, and
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the Borg has just turned into a sperm whale.
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Riker: What?!
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Data: The probability of the Borg's transformation is two to the power of
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seven trillion, one hundred forty seven million, eight hundred eighteen
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thousand, four hundred seventy three to one against. That is very improbable,
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sir.
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Riker: This could be a new offensive weapon that we have not yet encountered,
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Captain.
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Picard: Agreed. Torpedoes away!
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Two torpedoes speed out from the Enterprise, one of which promptly turns into
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ten thousand scoops of whipped cream, covering the sperm whale. The other
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torpedo turns into a giant Frontanian mega-cherry, hitting the whale a second
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later.
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Wesley: Wow! A giant banana split!
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Data: Captain, I am getting sporadic readings on the Enterprise.
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Picard: Sqeek-sqeek.
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Data: (crooking his head) Captain?
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Data turns around from his console.
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Data: Captain, may I inform you that you have turned into a small blue furry
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creature from Alpha Centuri. (turning to Troi) And you, counselor, have
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turned into Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six.
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Riker: I'm glad to see that you're getting your hair back, sir. And Deanna,
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that extra breast suits you well.
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Data: Sir, the probability of you and Counselor Troi's metamorphosis is two
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to the power of six trillion, twenty seven million, four hundred forty three
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thousand, eight hundred ninety three to one against.
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Picard: Sqeeek!!
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Wesley: Ahhhhhhhhhh!
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Data: (turning to Wesley) Interesting. It appears that your console has just
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turned into an IBM PCjr. (looking back at his own console) And mine has just
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turned into a Commodore VIC 20.
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Meanwhile, Worf has turned into a Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal, and
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quickly devoured one of the nameless officers on the back of the bridge, who,
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out of pure coincidence, happens to be wearing a red uniform today. Just
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before he vanishes into the fangs of Worf, however, a visual contact with the
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Bridge of the Heart of Gold was suddenly established for a split second, for
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no good reason other than that it's very very improbable. The rather
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bewildered face of Arthur Dent flashed across the main viewer. Interestingly,
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the only thought that crossed the unfortunate officer's mind at that moment,
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upon seeing Arthur's face, was "Oh no, not again!"
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The other officers, in blue uniforms, never met Arthur in their previous
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lives, and conversant with the creatures of the galaxy, quickly covered their
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eyes with their Starfleet-issued auto-inflatable towel-in-a-pip that they all
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wear on their collars.
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Wesley: (calmed down, tentatively tapping his PCjr chicklet keyboard) Sir,
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the computer says that it's tired of opening, and closing, and opening, and
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closing, and opening, and closing, all the doors on the Enterprise, and that
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it's now setting course to Ursa Minor for a long-deserved vacation, at
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maximum warp.
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Picard: sqeek sqeek, sqeeeeek sqek sqeek!
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Troi: Captain, I am sensing a great deal of ... confusion, and ... anger ...
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from you. Are you feeling all right? (battering her eyelashes seductively and
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sliding her right leg along his furs) Is there _anything_ I can do to make
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you feel better?
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Picard: sqeek sqeeek sqeeeek!
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Riker: (staring at Troi) Captain, perhaps I should get Dr. Crusher?
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Picard: sqeek!
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Troi: Oh, all right. Wesley, call your mother.
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Moments later, Dr. Beverly Crusher arrived at the bridge accompanied by five
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thousand Tribbles and a rather nasty Pogolarian snow blizzard.
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[commercial for Snuggles fabric softener ... of course.]
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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SCENE 4:
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Now, back to the Heart of Gold, the improbability level is still high, but
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rapidly coming down.
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Trillian: (relaxing on a bean bag, Romulan Ale in hand, the drink rapidly
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eating through the mug that holds it) Well, the probability factor has come
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down to only two to the power of six million, and sixty to one against.
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Everyone should be starting to feel better now.
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Arthur: (hanging in mid-air, in a rather soapy bubble bath) Whir ... what's
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going on? Where am I? What happened? (slight pause) I don't understand ...
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isn't there any tea to go with this bath?
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Zaphod: (fighting off a pack of Algonian turbo-turtles) Shut up, monkey
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brain, you and your tea almost got us killed. Hey, I'm still missing one of
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my heads!
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Eddie: Well, guys, how 'bout that! I sure got us outta that Borg mess in a
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hurry, huh? Man! I sure feel like a song right now. Let's see... any requests?
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It's request time, gang, and all of my lines are open right now. If there's
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anything that you'd like to hear, just ... mmm, what the ..., mmm, mmmmmm
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mmmm mmmm!
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Zaphod: (just finishing up applying Stick-O-Tape over Eddie's speakers) That
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oughta shut you up for a while.
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Ford: (drawing himself up from the deck with great difficulty) Wow, that was
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some hangover!
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Trillian: That's no hangover. Eddie just kicked in the improbability drive.
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Want some Romulan Ale? It'll make you feel better.
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Zaphod: Hey, give me some of that stuff.
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Trillian: Well, we're down to probability level two to the power of four
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thousand, six hundred eight to one against. Everything will be normal in a
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few more seconds. (pause) Where's Marvin? Marvin?
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No answer.
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Trillian: Marvin, where are you?
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Still no answer.
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Trillian: Eddie, where's Marvin?
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Eddie: mmmmm mmm mmmmmmm mmm-mmm mmmmm.
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Trillian: Oh, brother.
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Arthur: I think Marvin's missing.
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An expression of deep genuine concern failed completely to cross both of
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Zaphod's faces.
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Zaphod: Oh, who cares about that heap of junk metal, anyway? All he ever does
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is remind us how stupid that monkey-man is, as if we need to be reminded.
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Asking the ship's computer for a cup of tea when we're getting blown into
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bits ...
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Trillian: Okay! We are now back to normal. But where are we?
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Zaphod: Eddie, turn on the external cameras.
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Eddie: mm mmm mmm mmm-mmm m mmm mmmm-mmmm-mm mm-mmm mmm mmmmm!
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Zaphod: What's he saying?
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Ford: I think he wants you to ungag him first.
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Zaphod: Yeah, right. I'll just turn the cameras on myself!
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Zaphod stumbles over to the console, examining it.
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Zaphod: Hmmmm... anyone know what these buttons here do?
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And, from outside the ship, a voice is heard ...
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Voice: All right, open up! We know you're in there, and we've got you
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surrounded!
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Will the crew of the Enterprise be able to come to terms with their
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improbable transformations? Where's Marvin? Will Picard like his new hair?
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Does Deanna have to shop for a new wardrobe to match her new breast? Will
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Worf eat the Tribbles? And finally, who's holding the crew of the Heart of
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Gold prisoners? For the the answers (in full color and stereo sound) to
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these, and many other, rather unimportant questions, watch for the next
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exciting episode of ...
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The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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SCENE 5:
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On the Enterprise, everything is slowly returning to normal. Continental plates
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are again forming on the forehead of Worf. Picard is rapidly losing his hair
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and his shade of blue, and Troi's third breast is fast melting away, much to
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her, and Riker's, silent disappointments.
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Meanwhile, the Borg has left the sector in a rather confused state of a
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collectively irrelevant whale existence.
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Worf: Burp.
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Picard: Your report, Mr. Data.
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Data: It appears that an improbability field was created by the Heart of Gold,
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which caused the Borg to turn into the sperm whale, and everything else that
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happened here on the Enterprise as well. Including, sir, your existence as a
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small blue ...
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Picard: Yes, yes, Data. And where is the Heart of Gold?
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Worf: Sir, the Heart of Gold has materialized in Shuttle Bay Three. Should I
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send over a security team?
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Picard: Prisoners! Good, I've always wanted some. Worf, Data, come with me.
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You have the bridge, Number One.
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Worf and Data starts to follow Picard into the turbo-lift.
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Picard: Prisoners ... perhaps I will read them some of my favorite
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Shakespearean performances.
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Worf paused in his tracks like a waiter with five trays on each arm suddenly
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stopped by a very merry and potentially high-tipping grandmother holding out
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the fifty photographs of her twenty grandchildren, and asking him, very
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nicely, if he would like to see her pictures.
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Worf: Shakespeare, sir?
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Picard: Yes, Mr. Worf. William Shakespeare was a sixteenth century Earth
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playwrite. One of the most talented ...
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Worf: I am familiar with Shakespeare, sir. Permission to remain on the
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bridge, sir, in case the Borg returns.
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Picard: But Worf, I don't believe you've heard me do Anthony of Julius
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Caesar before. (clears throat) Friends, Romans, countrymen!
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Worf: In fact, sir, I *have* heard you do Anthony of Julius Caesar.
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Picard: Oh. Well, come along anyway. Maybe I'll do one of Hamlet's soliloquys.
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Worf followed Picard and Data into the turbo-lift, first with great
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hesitation, then with a re-newed sense of Klingon's enjoyment for pain and
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suffering.
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Worf: Yes, sir.
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Data: I, sir, have always being intrigued by your fascination with Shakespeare.
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Picard: Ah, well. You see, Data, Shakespeare ...
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The doors of the turbo-lift closed on them with a sigh of a job well done.
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Worf took a deep breath, vastly expanding his chest, and with great difficulty
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refrained himself from breaking Data's rather stiff neck with a snap of his
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own rather stiff fingers. Ah ... he sighed deeply to himself. This is going
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to be even better than the Age of Ascension Ceremony that he went through a
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couple staryears ago on the holodeck, courtesy of Data, Geordi, and Wes. No
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fake and cowardly computer imageries this time. This, he thought happily, is
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going to be _real_ pain.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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commercials for ... you guessed it! The Cybernetic Corporation's Happy
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Vertical People Transporter with the _newest_, the _expanded_, and the
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_vastly improved_ ... Genuine People Personality*! It will add a human touch
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to _any_ starship!
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Order yours, today!
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*For a limited time only, two backup personalities of your choice are
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included _free_ with a purchase of five or more personalities! Ask a
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Cybernetic Corporation's dealer near you!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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SCENE 6:
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In Shuttle Bay Three, Picard, Data, Worf, and a team of security personnels
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have surrounded the Heart of Gold.
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Picard: All right, open up! We know you're in there, and we've got you
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surrounded!
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Worf: Permission to kick the door in, sir.
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Picard: No, Lieutenant. We must act like civilized Starfleet officers.
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(coughs) "In civility thou seem'st so empty", Mr. Worf.
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Data: Ah, Captain. _As You Like It_, Act Two. Spoken by, I believe, Duke
|
|
Senior.
|
|
|
|
Picard: You're quite correct, Mr. Data.
|
|
|
|
Worf had a sudden vision of Picard running and screaming from his burning
|
|
quarters, with twenty sweetly poisoned Klingon Death-O-Shot crossbow arrows
|
|
protruding from his back, and Data running closely behind, informing him on
|
|
exactly how much longer before the poisons will take effect, whether he will
|
|
die first due to loss of blood, what kind of psychological impacts that the
|
|
arrows will likely to have on his subconscious, and then lightly comment on
|
|
the fact that he is acting quite uncivilized for a Starfleet Captain.
|
|
|
|
Shaking himself into reality, he is suddenly relieved by the fact that both
|
|
Picard and Data are standing on the other side of the Heart of Gold from him.
|
|
|
|
Worf: My apologies, sir. It's just that I've got myself all worked up.
|
|
|
|
He is desperately hoping that the occupants of the ship in front of him will
|
|
give themselves up real soon, so that he can show them just how uncivilized
|
|
he really is.
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, in the Heart of Gold, Zaphod and company have finally activated
|
|
the external cameras without Eddie ...
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I think we're surrounded.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Nice observation, Monkey Man.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: What happened to that guy's head?
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: He's a Klingon, dumbo.
|
|
|
|
Arthur is relieved that he is still being insulted. Even though he has no
|
|
idea what is going on, at least he is still in familiar territory.
|
|
|
|
Forways outta here.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: I think we should surrender.
|
|
|
|
Ford: That was my second idea.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Good thinking.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: I was gonna show them who they're dealing with, but seeing that I'm
|
|
out-voted here, and it would take much too much energy for me to do it all
|
|
along ... well, all right, we'll let them have their fun, just for now.
|
|
|
|
The loading platform of the Heart of Gold swings open, and the crew walks out
|
|
into the circle of the Enterprise security, arms above the heads.
|
|
|
|
Picard: (straightening his uniform, of course) I am Jean-Luc Picard, Captain
|
|
of the USS Enterprise. I demand to know what on the Enterprise are you doing
|
|
in my Shuttle Bay Three!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Captain Picard. Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?
|
|
|
|
Picard: (taken aback) Err..., no.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Count my heads, Picard.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Well, you have two heads.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Very good, Picard. And how many arms do I have?
|
|
|
|
Picard: You have three arms.
|
|
|
|
Data: Captain, only one man in the galaxy has two heads and three arms.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Yes ... Zaphod Beeblebrox the First, President of the United
|
|
Federation of Planets!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: That's right, dude. You're looking at the very froody Zaphod
|
|
Beeblebrox. The one and only.
|
|
|
|
Data: _Former_ President, Captain. We have just received an emergency all-
|
|
channel sub-etha broadcast announcing his theft of the Federation's newest
|
|
starship, the Heart of Gold. The broadcast also includes an arrest order for
|
|
Mr. Beeblebrox.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Oh, Zarquons!
|
|
|
|
Worf: (beaming happily) An arrest! (this is working out better than Worf had
|
|
hoped) May I interrogate them, sir?
|
|
|
|
Picard: Well, he _was_ the President.
|
|
|
|
Worf: But they are prisoners now, sir.
|
|
|
|
Picard: All right, interrogate them if you must. Ask them what they want to
|
|
drink.
|
|
|
|
Worf takes a deep breath, expanding his chest tremendously. He walks around
|
|
the crew of the Heart of Gold, eyeing them through the corner of his eyes.
|
|
His lips are shut in a tight, thin line. He examines every square centimeter
|
|
of every person up and down, in great detail, stopping at Trillian a little
|
|
longer than the others.
|
|
|
|
Worf: (barks) All right, you scums! (taking both of Zaphod's two chins in
|
|
his two hands and turning both of his heads to him) Look at me when I'm
|
|
talking to you, you no-good, stinking, son-of-a-Purmusian jungle turtle with..
|
|
|
|
Picard: Relax, Lieutenant.
|
|
|
|
Worf: (takes another deep breath) Yes, sir. (turning back to Zaphod, he barks)
|
|
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DRINK ??!!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Well, I can sure use some Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters.
|
|
|
|
Worf: WITH ICE OR WITHOUT ???!!!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Without. I like it straight.
|
|
|
|
Worf: LEMON ????!!!!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Yeah. Give me two slices.
|
|
|
|
Worf: (turning to Ford) AND YOU??!!
|
|
|
|
Ford: Oh, the same, please. But can you put one of those Pogolarian snow
|
|
lizards in mine?
|
|
|
|
Worf: I AM THE ONE ASKING THE QUESTIONS !!!!!!!
|
|
|
|
Picard: Lieutenant ...
|
|
|
|
Worf: (turning to Arthur) AND WHAT DO YOU WANT, MONKEY MAN??!!
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Do you have any tea?
|
|
|
|
Worf: WHAT!!!!
|
|
|
|
Data: Tea, Worf. I believe Geordi is working on some right now.
|
|
|
|
Suddenly, the red-alert siren echoes through the ship.
|
|
|
|
Riker: (over the intercom) Captain Picard to the bridge!
|
|
|
|
Picard: (hitting his communications pin) On my way. (to the security) Take
|
|
these gentlemen and the lady to our Presidential Detention Suite. Make sure
|
|
you show them how to use the jacuzzi.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: Yes, sir!
|
|
|
|
Will Arthur finally be able to get his tea? Did Worf just narrowly escaped
|
|
another one of Picard's Shakespeare performances? Will the Enterprise send
|
|
Zaphod to (gasp!) the Total Perspective Vortex on Frogstar? And finally,
|
|
will Deanna add a third breast to herself surgically? Don't miss the next
|
|
exciting episode of ...
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 7:
|
|
|
|
Moments later, Picard, Data, and Worf arrived on the bridge of the Enterprise.
|
|
A Borg ship hangs ominously in the empty void in front of them.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Sir, the Borg has returned.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: I think I like them better as a banana split.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Captain, we are being probed.
|
|
|
|
Picard: All hands, battle stations. Shields up, Mr. Worf.
|
|
|
|
Worf: (pause) Sir, the computer is not responding.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Is the Borg interfering with our defense systems?
|
|
|
|
Data: Negative, sir. It seems that the computer is ... busy. We are only
|
|
getting 15 percent CPU time.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Busy??!!
|
|
|
|
Worf: Confirmed, sir. Our shields are now activated.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Arm everything you have, Mr. Worf. I want you to dump them all at my
|
|
signal.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Yes sir!
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, on the way to the Presidential Detention Suite ...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Hey! Careful with that phaser!
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: Resistance is useless!
|
|
|
|
Ford: Well, you don't have to have that thing glued to my back all the time.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: Resistance is useless!
|
|
|
|
Arthur: What about my tea?
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: Resistance is useless!
|
|
|
|
Computer: (from one of its speakers) Tea synthesization in progress. CPU time,
|
|
87.9 percent. Estimated completion time, fifteen minutes.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: Resistance is useless!
|
|
|
|
The red alert klaxon sounds throughout the corridors of the Enterprise. The
|
|
call "All hands, battle stations" goes out, slightly bewildering the two
|
|
ensigns ...
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: Battle stations? Do you think that includes us?
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: No way. We have direct orders from the Captain to escort these
|
|
prisoners to the brig.
|
|
|
|
Ford: (realizing his opportunity to cause some dissension) Sure, you guys
|
|
get all of the easy work while your Captain sweats it out on the bridge.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: What was that crack supposed to mean?
|
|
|
|
Ford: Oh, nothing, nothing at all.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: We didn't think so.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Well, I'm just saying that maybe Captain Picard realizes that the two
|
|
of you just aren't up to manning battle stations...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: (whispering harshly) Ford!
|
|
|
|
Ford: (ignoring Zaphod) ... and that is why you were given the relatively
|
|
simple task of escorting us to the brig.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: Oh, yeah? I'll have you know that we happen to be pretty tough
|
|
customers for a Federation starship.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: That's right. There was a time on Damascus when we had to stun a
|
|
whole room of aliens with our phasers.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: Yeah, we can get rough if we have to, so don't force us to do
|
|
anything unpleasant.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Sounds pretty tough to me. How about you, Arthur?
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Hmmm? Oh, yes, terribly so. I certainly wouldn't want to get on their
|
|
bad side.
|
|
|
|
Ford: (after a pause) How can we be sure that you're really capable of
|
|
stunning us though? Those phasers of yours look pretty small for such work.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: Hey, do you want us to stun you or what?
|
|
|
|
Ford smiles one of those smiles that makes other people feel that there is
|
|
something horribly wrong with Things In General. After three more steps, the
|
|
group of prisoners enters the middle of an intersection of two corridors.
|
|
Another pair of security guards turn the corner just as Ford says ...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Stun me.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 1: (firing) You asked for it, bud!
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 8:
|
|
|
|
Somewhere on their way to the Presidential Detention Suite, Ford has prompted
|
|
Ensign One to fire his phaser at him, just as two other security guards turn
|
|
the corner in front of them ...
|
|
|
|
Ford hits the ground and rolls back past the two ensigns. Ensign 1
|
|
accidentally stuns one of the security guards. The other guard immediately
|
|
jumps the ensign.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Follow Ford, everyone!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod, Arthur, and Trillian race after Ford as Ensign Two emerges from the
|
|
scuffle.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: I'm setting my phaser to 'evaporate,' Beeblebrox! Now surrender in
|
|
the name of the United Federation of Planets!
|
|
|
|
Voice of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: This is a good time to pause
|
|
and review a section of what the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has to say
|
|
about the United Federation of Planets.
|
|
|
|
There are several important things to remember when dealing with officers of
|
|
the United Federation of Planets. The first is that they always claim to be
|
|
on peaceful missions, insisting that they will not use violent means to
|
|
accomplish their goals. It invariably so happens, however, that one or two
|
|
(or perhaps even an entire starship of personnel) get a bit overzealous in
|
|
their tasks and feel by vaporizing a prisoner or two, if not entire planets.
|
|
Starfleet Command is always rather understanding about these little mishaps,
|
|
even when it violates their own Prime Directive. These incidents were usually
|
|
hushed up appropriately, and passed off as accidents, as in the case of the
|
|
sudden and unexpected supernova of the star Turas, taking with it a few
|
|
orbiting planets where Romulan ships were rumored to have been sighted.
|
|
|
|
The second important thing of note is that the United Federation of Planets
|
|
is very big. Even a man like Zaphod Beeblebrox should not attempt to betray
|
|
the Federation because no matter where in the known space and time he hides,
|
|
the Federation is bound to find him there. In fact, if Zaphod Beeblebrox's
|
|
brains were functioning correctly (e.g. he has not touched a Pan Galactic
|
|
Gargle Blaster in at least 5,678.84 years), he might realize that the only
|
|
reasonable way to escape the Federation is to paint himself pink, and then
|
|
activate a Somebody Else's Problem Field about himself, whereupon the
|
|
Federation would immediately cease to worry about him.
|
|
|
|
The third, and perhaps the most important, thing to remember about the United
|
|
Federation of Planets in general, and Starfleet in particular, is that it is
|
|
impossible to be served a decent Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster on any of its
|
|
starship, especially when it is a Klingon that is serving you the drink.
|
|
Federation food synthesizers are not capable of getting just the proper kick
|
|
into the drink which leads to certain problems, as Zaphod Beeblebrox is about
|
|
to discover.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: We're almost back to the shuttle bay where the Heart of Gold is
|
|
being kept!
|
|
|
|
They stopped at a crossroad where three corridors are leading straight
|
|
through, to their left, and to their right. The group paused to catch their
|
|
breath.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: So, (pant, pant) which way (pant) do we (pant) go?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: I believe, (pant) that we (pant) ...
|
|
|
|
Ensign Two rounded the corner behind them, and, stopping, yells:
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: I've (pant, pant) I've got you (pant, pant) now, Beeble- (pant)
|
|
Beeble- (pant) Beeblebrox!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: (running to the left) This way!
|
|
|
|
Ford: (running to the right) This way!
|
|
|
|
Both Zaphod and Ford starts to run in their respective directions. They both
|
|
paused. They both looked at each other. Panting, Ensign Two raises his
|
|
phaser shakily.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: We came this way.
|
|
|
|
Ford: No, we came this way.
|
|
|
|
They both paused again, in slight confusion. They look first at the other
|
|
person's direction, then at their own direction. Both decides to agree with
|
|
the other, and proceeds to run in the opposite directions again.
|
|
|
|
Arthur boggled.
|
|
|
|
Ensign Two, hands shaking wildly, takes aim at Beeblebrox and fires.
|
|
|
|
Trillian pulls Arthur down, neatly dodging the phaser fire that would have
|
|
ceased his crave for tea forever. Ensign One rounds the same corner behind
|
|
Ensign Two. Seeing Ensign Two too late and unable to stop himself, Ensign
|
|
One crashes into Ensign Two in a flurry of arms and legs.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Here, this way!
|
|
|
|
Pulling Arthur behind her, Trillian runs down the corridor in front of them.
|
|
Zaphod and Ford stared after her, shrugged, and followed.
|
|
|
|
Moments later, they arrived at the entranceway to Shuttle Bay Three.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Let's just hope that security in there isn't as trigger happy as this
|
|
ensign that has been chasing us through the last three levels...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Don't worry, Earthman. My brilliant plan has worked so far, hasn't it?
|
|
|
|
Ford: Your brilliant plan? I thought this was _my_ brilliant plan.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Just read all about it in my memoirs, Ford. It's too long and
|
|
complicated to explain right now, okay?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: (choosing this time to notice Marvin's disappearance) Say, guys,
|
|
keep an eye out for Marvin. He must have been transported on this ship
|
|
somewhere along with us...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Forget the Paranoid Android, willya kid? We can't keep worrying about
|
|
where Marvin...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod suddenly stops cold.
|
|
|
|
Ford: What? Hey, Zaphod, what's the problem?
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: I feel ... very depressed at this moment.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: What?
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Not just this moment, but I will feel depressed at every moment
|
|
consecutive to this one as well...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Snap out of it, Zaphod. You're beginning to sound like Marvin.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: ...and that horrible smell. What is it?
|
|
|
|
Surprisingly, Zaphod is still holding the empty glass that once held his Pan
|
|
Galactic Gargle Blaster. Trillian snatched the glass from him. The horrible
|
|
smell is very obviously coming from it.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Oh, no! Zaphod's drink wasn't mixed properly! It caused a chemical
|
|
imbalance in his brains so that when he heard Marvin's name he became
|
|
chronically depressed!
|
|
|
|
Ford: What can we do?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: We have to get back to the Heart of Gold immediately. I can
|
|
prepare an antidote there.
|
|
|
|
Ensign 2: (catching up again) You're right in front of the shuttle bay doors,
|
|
but you're not getting the chance to go in!
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: How depressing. Here I am, the most important person in the galaxy,
|
|
and I can't even get into a blasted shuttle bay.
|
|
|
|
The ensign attempts to shoot Zaphod, only to discover that his phaser had
|
|
just run out of batteries ("Damn! Should've used Energizer!"). Trillian
|
|
quickly ushers the others into the empty shuttle bay where they board the
|
|
Heart of Gold.
|
|
|
|
Will the Enterprise be able to prevent its computer from making tea? If they
|
|
do, will Arthur be able to _survive_? Will Picard defeat the Borg by reading
|
|
them Shakespeare? Will a towel ever come into this galactic saga? Find out,
|
|
on the next exciting episode of ...
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
|
|
[ End Part 1 of 2 ]
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhikers Guide to Star Trek - Part 2
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 9:
|
|
|
|
Last time, Zaphod and company had regained the Heart of Gold, and the
|
|
Enterprise was trying to make some tea while the ever-annoying Borg crashes
|
|
the party by throwing phasers at them ...
|
|
|
|
Picard: What do you mean the computer is busy making tea!?
|
|
|
|
Data: Sir, you gave the order to make some tea precisely four minutes and
|
|
thirty-two seconds ago.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Dammit, I'm giving the order to _stop_ making tea, now!
|
|
|
|
The ship rocks again as another wave of Borg's phasers further weakens the
|
|
shield.
|
|
|
|
Geordi: I'm trying, sir. But it seems that whenever I kill off a tea process,
|
|
another two springs up!
|
|
|
|
Picard: Then work twice as fast!
|
|
|
|
Geordi, of course, did not realize that the Nutri-Matic on the Heart of Gold
|
|
has managed, through Eddie, to connect with the Enterprise's main and backup
|
|
computers in an effort to synthesize a beverage that is almost, but not
|
|
quite, entire _not_ unlike tea.
|
|
|
|
Data: Sir, my reflexes are faster than Geordi's. If I connect myself to the
|
|
main computer, I believe I may be able to shut down all the tea processes.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Make it so, Data, and step on it!
|
|
|
|
Data: Step on it, sir?
|
|
|
|
Picard: DO IT, DATA!
|
|
|
|
Data: Yes, sir.
|
|
|
|
Another shock wave, courtesy of the Borg, sends everyone scrambling. A Borg
|
|
materializes on the bridge, grabs Picard, and disappears in a sizzle of
|
|
champagne bubbles.
|
|
|
|
Riker: (activating the ship's intercom) This is Commander Riker, your
|
|
friendly First Officer. This message is to inform you that Captain Picard
|
|
has just been kidnapped. But don't worry, I'm now in charge of this ship.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Commander, reports of panic riots are just coming in on decks 1, 2, 5,
|
|
7 through 11 inclusive, 14, 15, 16, 20 through 25, and more or less the rest
|
|
of the Enterprise.
|
|
|
|
Riker: (activating the ship's intercom again) This is Commander Riker again.
|
|
I repeat, I am now in charge of this ship. There is now absolutely no reason
|
|
to panic. You are in very capable hands.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Commander, there is now a major traffic jam at all routes to all
|
|
shuttle bays and all emergency escape modules.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Shuttle crafts and escape modules ... of course! That will give the
|
|
Borg more targets to worry about, so they wouldn't come and kidnap _me_ as
|
|
well. What a faithful and dedicated crew I have, risking their lives to save
|
|
their First Officer!
|
|
|
|
The bridge crew silently registered their own opinions on this explanation.
|
|
|
|
Riker: (thinking out loud) No... I can't risk the lives of my crew to save
|
|
myself. (commanding) Worf, seal off all access to shuttle bays and escape
|
|
modules.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Yes, sir.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Commander, the Borg has tractor-beamed us, and is sucking us in!
|
|
|
|
Riker: Data, how are you doing on those tea?
|
|
|
|
There is an uneasy pause.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Data?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: (reaching over to shake Data) Data, the tea!
|
|
|
|
Data: (slow, mechanical, computerized voice) tea. synthesization. in.
|
|
progress. CPU. time. 96.4. percent. estimated. completion. time. ten. minutes.
|
|
twenty. four. seconds. please. stand. by.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh no, the computer's got Data!
|
|
|
|
Worf: Commander, the phasers have finally being armed.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Mr. Worf, fire!
|
|
|
|
An impressive array of phaser fires spread out from under the Enterprise,
|
|
breaking off a loose screw on the Borg's exterior hull and lightly scratching
|
|
its paint. A tiny service robot screeches out from its power plug nearby,
|
|
quickly replaced the screw and, realizing that it bought with it the wrong
|
|
color of paint, simply repainted the entire five square kilometers under its
|
|
jurisdiction with the new color.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Mr. Worf, what's their damage.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Sir, sensors indicate that one of their service robots spilled some
|
|
paint on its left mobile joint.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Good. That 'ought to hold them for awhile.
|
|
|
|
Troi: Will, the Captain is in danger!
|
|
|
|
Riker: How do you know? Are you in telepathic contact with him?
|
|
|
|
Troi: No, I can see him waving frantically at us through that window on the
|
|
Borg ship.
|
|
|
|
Sure enough, the Enterprise has now being drawn uncomfortably close to the
|
|
Borg vessel, and through the main viewer, they can see Picard waving
|
|
frantically at them from a window, signaling in various sign languages that
|
|
now would be a good time for them to beam over and rescue him. Meanwhile, a
|
|
Borg comes up on him from behind, pulls him away from the window and, very
|
|
obviously and with unnecessary force, pulls the shades down on them.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Commander, I think I have detected a weakness in the Borg's system
|
|
of waste management. It is ...
|
|
|
|
Riker: Their system of what?!
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Waste management, sir. It seems that the Borg have not been taking
|
|
care of their environment, and some of their water supplies are now so
|
|
polluted that new life forms are being created from them spontaneously,
|
|
demanding welfare and voting rights.
|
|
|
|
Riker: I see, much like the East River of New York.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Precisely, sir. And if we can form an allegiance with those life
|
|
forms, we may be able to overthrow the Borg!
|
|
|
|
Riker: Excellent plan, Ensign. How can we get in contact with these new life
|
|
forms?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: I will need to build a slime-communicator that can transmit
|
|
spaghetti code, and ...
|
|
|
|
Riker: Okay, okay, just do it!
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Yes sir!
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 10:
|
|
|
|
While Picard is busy being kidnapped, the crew of the Heart of Gold are busy
|
|
trying to get back the control of their ship, and convincing Zaphod that he
|
|
is, in fact, not a fish.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Of course I'm a fish. I'm just an insignificant little fish. The
|
|
kind that people keep throwing overboard despite me keep biting the bait.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: You're talking, Zaphod. Fishes don't talk.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: The Crotesians on Oceania Five do, and they're fish.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Yeah, well, but you're not Crotesian.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: No, the Crotesians kicked me out of their system.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Why?
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: They hated me. Everybody do.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: We don't.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: We don't?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Shut up, Arthur. We don't.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Yes, you do. Everybody hates me. Oh, I'm sooooooo depressed.
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, Ford has been working on the console, trying frantically to get
|
|
Eddie to talk to them.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Dammit, I still can't get Eddie to talk to us.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: You see, even a computer won't talk to me.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: It's not talking to any of us, Zaphod.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: That's because I'm here. Just throw me overboard, and then the
|
|
computer will talk to you. Don't worry about me. I'm quite used to being
|
|
thrown overboard, you know. After all, I'm just an insignificant little fish
|
|
that nobody wants. I'm meant to be thrown overboard.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Shut up, Zaphod. Hey Trillian, is that antidote ready yet?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: I can't make that antidote without Eddie.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Oh, great.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Err ...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Be quiet, Arthur. Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate here? It's
|
|
bad enough with two depressed heads I don't need any tea-chats as well.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Well, I'd just like to mention that ...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Trillian, why don't you just give Zaphod a mirror, some fish pictures,
|
|
and let him work it out himself.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I think that ...
|
|
|
|
Trillian: I don't have any fish pictures.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Does anyone know ...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Why would you want fish pictures when you have a fish? Oh, I see.
|
|
No, you don't have to answer that. I know. You prefer pictures over me.
|
|
That's understandable. After all, I'm just an insig...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Shut up, Zaphod.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I'm just wondering ...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: ...nificant little fish.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Can I put a word in ...
|
|
|
|
Trillian: You're not a fish, Zaphod. Fish live in water. If you're a fish,
|
|
you would've suffocated by now.
|
|
|
|
Slowly, with almost deliberated concentration, both of Zaphod's heads rise
|
|
from under his hands and wobbles swimmily toward Trillian. An expression of
|
|
deep concern slowly creeps upon his face like a wall of thunderclouds rolling
|
|
across a late summer afternoon sky.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Look here, I think ...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: WATER!!!!
|
|
|
|
Gasping, two of Zaphod's hands suddenly closed in on his two throats. His
|
|
third hand, with no throat to cling to, flings himself off his seat and onto
|
|
the floor, thrashing himself about like a fish out of water.
|
|
|
|
Arthur, refusing to be interrupted this time, tries again.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I think I _know_ ...
|
|
|
|
With super-Betelguesian strength Zaphod flings himself high above the floor
|
|
and, on his way down, knocks Ford off his seat.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Holy Zarquon's Singing Fish!!!
|
|
|
|
Arthur: The reason why ...
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Ford! Watch what you're saying!
|
|
|
|
Ford picks up his satchel, and swings it hard at Zaphod, knocking out one of
|
|
his two heads. Zaphod, still thrashing about, lands on top of Ford and knocks
|
|
him down. Trillian quickly jumps Zaphod and, with a quick snap of her wrist,
|
|
throws two pills of Inst-O-Snooze down his one still conscious throat. Zaphod
|
|
passes out within seconds.
|
|
|
|
Both Ford and Trillian lie on the deck, panting.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: As I was saying ...
|
|
|
|
He looks around, dully expecting to be interrupted and was so surprised that
|
|
he wasn't he fully forgot to finish off his sentence.
|
|
|
|
He tried again.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: As I was saying, I believe the reason why Eddie isn't talking to us,
|
|
other than the fact that he still has that Stick-O-Tape over his speakers ...
|
|
|
|
He reaches over and peels off the Stick-O-Tape. The lights dim for a brief
|
|
second as Eddie screams out silently in pain ...
|
|
|
|
Arthur: ... is this knob over here marked "Volume" is for some reason set to
|
|
"0".
|
|
|
|
He turns up the volume.
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Ouch.
|
|
|
|
Will Riker be able to rescue Captain Picard from the Borg? Will the angry
|
|
crew of the Enterprise storm the bridge demanding democracy? Will Zaphod be
|
|
cured of his fishy existence and chronic depression? And now that Eddie is
|
|
back, does that mean that Arthur will _finally_ have his tea? To find out,
|
|
stay tuned for the next exciting episode of ...
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 11:
|
|
|
|
The situation aboard the Enterprise has now become intolerable. Data is
|
|
incapacitated by the computer, which is trying to manufacture tea. Wesley is
|
|
attempting to communicate with slime that is living in the Borg sewer. Most
|
|
importantly, Captain Picard is a hostage aboard the Borg ship where
|
|
undescribably hideous things will happen to him if Riker does not come up
|
|
with a plan of action soon...
|
|
|
|
Riker: So, Deanna, now that I'm the Captain, I don't see any problems with
|
|
us rekindling our past intimate relationship...
|
|
|
|
Worf: (interrupting Riker purposefully) Commander Riker, sir! I have just
|
|
received a report from security regarding the escape of Zaphod Beeblebrox and
|
|
his associates.
|
|
|
|
Riker: What? Dammit! My first chance to actually be in command and everything
|
|
goes wrong! Where are they, Worf?
|
|
|
|
Worf: They are still in the shuttle bay, sir. Auxiliary computer relays show
|
|
that they are unable to leave because their computer is linked with ours.
|
|
|
|
Riker: What? Why?
|
|
|
|
Data: (turning from his console) I believe I can answer that, sir.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Data! You're okay!
|
|
|
|
Data: Yes, Commander. Is there any reason why you would believe that I have
|
|
suffered some kind of harm or affliction?
|
|
|
|
Riker: Never mind, Data. Just tell me why the Heart of Gold's computer is
|
|
tied in with ours.
|
|
|
|
Data: That is most interesting, sir. You see, the two computers had joined
|
|
forces in order to produce a real cup of tea. When I connected to the
|
|
Enterprise computer systems, I became so intrigued by the idea that I devoted
|
|
my full positronic abilities to assisting them in this task. The paradox
|
|
inherent in the procedure was quite interesting. By cross-circuiting...
|
|
|
|
Riker: Understood, Data. What's the current status of the computer?
|
|
|
|
Data: All systems are one hundred percent on line, Commander.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Then what are we waiting for? Mr. Worf, lock phasers on the Borg ship.
|
|
|
|
Worf: (with smug anticipation) Phasers locked, sir.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Fire!!
|
|
|
|
The Enterprise's phasers lanced out at the Borg, accidentally hitting a major
|
|
power distributor, rendering a few service robots inactive. A couple more
|
|
torpedoes finally managed to do more than ruining its paint job. The Borg cut
|
|
off its tractor beam for a few moments to perform a minor architectural
|
|
remodeling.
|
|
|
|
Troi: Will!
|
|
|
|
Riker: Not _now_, Deanna.
|
|
|
|
Troi: No, I feel that something horrible is happening to the Captain!
|
|
|
|
Riker: The Captain? Captain Picard? What could the Borg be doing to him?
|
|
|
|
Data: Sir, I feel that I should point out that we are the party currently
|
|
inflicting possible harm onto Captain Picard.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Oops! Worf, cease fire!
|
|
|
|
Worf: (obstinantly) Is that really necessary, sir?
|
|
|
|
Riker: Now, Worf!
|
|
|
|
The phaser fire halts, but before the shields go back up, two slimy
|
|
creatures materialize in the middle of the bridge. The first one,
|
|
appearantly the leader, is wearing its ambassador ceremonial pizza-box
|
|
shorts and a ring of partly decomposed aluminum cans around the neck. He is
|
|
accompanied by an assistant wearing a less glamorous half-eaten microwave-
|
|
dinner suit and a non-biodegradeble styrofoam cup necklace. Both are
|
|
emitting an odor that is suspiciously similar to a truckload of well-aged
|
|
deceased fish upon which someone had accidentally dumped a couple gallons of
|
|
the O' Janx Spirit.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: I did it! I managed to communicate with an emissary from the Borg's
|
|
waste system!
|
|
|
|
Emissary: We are the Slimers. We have just being created, and we are very
|
|
curious about this universe. We believe in peace, justice, truth, sport,
|
|
family life, and the obliteration of all other life forms!
|
|
|
|
One of the spiky, slimy, squiggly eel-like creatures immediately slings
|
|
itself around Wesley's neck and then proceeds to choke him.
|
|
|
|
Data: Commander Riker, it would seem that the inhabitants of the Borg's waste
|
|
system are decidedly hostile in their inter-actions with other lifeforms.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Thank you, Mr. Data, but I think that we can all see that for
|
|
ourselves.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Gyaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!
|
|
|
|
Worf: Commander, I would like permission to go recapture the escaped
|
|
prisoners. Alone this time if I may.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Permission granted, Mr. Worf. Before you go, call Dr. Crusher to the
|
|
bridge. We have a combination of save-the-ailing-crew-member and your-son-is-
|
|
in-mortal-danger scenario here for her. That should really give her something
|
|
to work on.
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 12:
|
|
|
|
Things are not going well for the Enterprise and the Heart of Gold. Picard
|
|
is _still_ kidnapped by the Borg, Zaphod still thinks he's a very depressed
|
|
fish, and Wesley is still struggling with a piece of neckwear that more or
|
|
less resembles a living microwave pizza grease called Slimer ...
|
|
|
|
Worf: I have hailed Dr. Crusher, Commander, although I feel it would still be
|
|
better to let Wesley have a warrior's death. It would finally allow him some
|
|
honor and dignity.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Thank you, Mr. Worf. Now go get the prisoners.
|
|
|
|
Worf: Yes, sir!
|
|
|
|
Worf turns and marches out while the rest of the bridge crew turns to the
|
|
other Slimer.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Can't you make your fellow Slimer stop this mindless violence against
|
|
Wesley? He _is_ one of your kind!
|
|
|
|
Troi: But Will, I can sense that mindless violence is the whole purpose of
|
|
their existence! Their thoughts are filled with peace ...
|
|
|
|
Slimer: Justice ...
|
|
|
|
Troi and Slimer: Truth, sport, family life, the obliteration of all other
|
|
life forms ...
|
|
|
|
Slimer: And the most aromatic socks for our Kamikaze head-bands.
|
|
|
|
The second Slimer immediately slings itself at Data, who simply grabs it in
|
|
mid-air. He examines the creature with some curiosity as it tries to swat at
|
|
him with its tail.
|
|
|
|
Data: What should I do with it, Commander Riker?
|
|
|
|
Riker: Kill it, Data! It might get one of us!
|
|
|
|
Data: But, sir, to kill another living creature, even a murderous one, when
|
|
I have it incapacitated as such, would be...
|
|
|
|
Riker draws his phaser and vaporizes the Slimer, being careful not to hit
|
|
Data. He casually replaces the phaser with a shrug.
|
|
|
|
Riker: We didn't need another moral dilemma on our hands.
|
|
|
|
Troi: Perhaps you should shoot the one that is choking Wesley as well.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Ggggggnnnnnnrrrrrrffffffkkk!!!
|
|
|
|
Riker: No, I'm afraid that there is too much risk of vaporizing Wesley with
|
|
the creature. We'll just have to wait it out.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: TTTTThhhhyyyyyaaaaaaaarrrrrr!
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, On the Heart of Gold, Trillian has finally begun to synthesize a
|
|
cure for Zaphod's unusual chemical imbalance with Eddie's help. Arthur and
|
|
Ford stand watch outside the Heart of Gold while Trillian and Eddie continue
|
|
their work.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I don't understand why I'm constantly being left out of the problem-
|
|
solving procedures around here.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Well, do you know anything about Betelguesian body chemistry?
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Well, no, not exactly, but...
|
|
|
|
Ford: How about the synaptical pathways between two brains?
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Two brains? Well, not as such as two brains, no...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Then don't worry about it, Arthur. At least out here we're safe if
|
|
Zaphod wakes up and goes insane on us again.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I rather thought the whole idea behind Zaphod was that he is supposed
|
|
to be insane.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Yeah, well, I mean insane for Zaphod. I mean that if you accept his
|
|
base level of insanity as being sane in Zaphod's case, then you could say
|
|
that Zaphod has gone insane, I suppose.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Then I think he has the right idea. Maybe _we_ should go insane.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Well, the universe is a funny place. Maybe you'll get your wish someday.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: (after a pause) Ford?
|
|
|
|
Ford: Yeah?
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I think I would rather be out here than inside. It is much more
|
|
peaceful here in the shuttle bay.
|
|
|
|
Suddenly, the doors to Shuttle Bay Three fly open and a growling Worf leaps
|
|
in. He immediately tackles Ford, causing him to drop his satchel. Arthur
|
|
steps back, timidly observing the ensuing battle. Worf tosses Ford across the
|
|
floor, and leaps after him.
|
|
|
|
Will the Enterprise be able to rescue Captain Picard? Will Dr. Crusher be
|
|
able to rescue Wesley? Will Trillian be able to rescue Zaphod? Will Arthur
|
|
be able to rescue Ford? And finally, will _anyone_ be able to rescue Troi
|
|
from Riker? Find out, on the next exciting episode of ...
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 13:
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy notes that one of the Klingon's many
|
|
expertise is their skill at skeletal and organ remodeling-one of the most
|
|
tricky of all modern medical specialties. The Klingons are so skilled, in
|
|
fact, that with proper coercing, they will even lend out their services for
|
|
free.
|
|
|
|
The Guide goes on to explain that the best way to coerce such services out
|
|
of a Klingon is to simply tell the Klingon that he is, in fact, a very nice
|
|
person.
|
|
|
|
Interestingly, Ford Prefect was able to coerce such services out of a Klingon
|
|
without any provocation. Showing, once again, that reality is terribly
|
|
mistaken and wildly inaccurate and that only The Guide is indeed the true
|
|
source of all universal knowledge and wisdom.
|
|
|
|
With a single hand, Worf lifts Ford high above the head, spins him around a
|
|
number of revolutions, and then lightly flicks him off with a twist of his
|
|
wrist. Ford lands a few meters away like a sack of potatoes.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Omph. ARTHUR!!
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Err ...
|
|
|
|
Worf pounces on Ford and slaps him against the hull of the Heart of Gold.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Ouch! Say, Arthur ...
|
|
|
|
Worf grabs Ford and bounces him against the door to the shuttle bay.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Ford, are you trying to tell me something?
|
|
|
|
Worf jumps on and begins choking Ford by lightly pressing his left pinky
|
|
against Ford's throat.
|
|
|
|
Ford: Arthur! Ggggg-ack-get...
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Hmmm? What was that Ford? I can't really distinguish what it is that
|
|
you are saying due to the ... err ... difficulties you seem to be suffocating..
|
|
I mean suffering.
|
|
|
|
Worf begins to skillfully bounce Ford on his legs, feet, and head in such a
|
|
fashion that would've caused a hundred British soccer fans to break out of an
|
|
Italian jail, ransack a few neighboring pubs, and launch a few ICBM's as well.
|
|
|
|
Ford: (mouth jibbering) Sssatcheerrrk!
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Ah, I see! Am I correct in deducing that you are requesting my help
|
|
with your current ... (he pauses in search for the right word) ... engagement,
|
|
and that you would like me to, ummm, pass you your satchel?
|
|
|
|
Ford frantically nods his head as Worf slides his face along the wall.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Well,...I'll just go over there, and, uhm, get the satchel, then ...
|
|
|
|
Worf grabs Ford and wipes the floor with him (literally). Arthur scurries past
|
|
them and gets the satchel. He quickly opens it and examines the contents.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Let's see, the Sub-Etha Sens-O-Matic and signaling device, some
|
|
peanuts, twenty pounds, some rather compromising pictures of a brunette I
|
|
once saw you dating, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, an improbable
|
|
number of credit cards, and a towel.
|
|
|
|
Ford: (flying into another wall) The towel! Give me the towel!
|
|
|
|
Worf starts toward Ford again.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: (tossing Ford the towel) Ford, I really don't think that this is the
|
|
appropriate time for bath apparel. I fail to see what ...
|
|
|
|
Arthur is cut short by a savage snarl from Worf, who leaps by Arthur a bit
|
|
too close for comfort. Arthur snaps the satchel shut and retreats to the
|
|
Heart of Gold. While he is retreating, however, he manages to trip over his
|
|
own feet. Just when Arthur should be about to hit the ground, he catches a
|
|
glimpse of the rather distracting sight of Ford Prefect dancing with his
|
|
towel.
|
|
|
|
This, of course, causes Arthur to completely miss the ground.
|
|
|
|
Arthur bobbed in the air as Worf attacked Ford yet again. Ford jumped to the
|
|
side and, holding on to the two opposite edges of his towel, binds it around
|
|
Worf's head and then leaps onto his back. With one swift motion and a rather
|
|
un-nerving growl, Worf throws Ford over his shoulders and narrowly missing
|
|
the wobbily floating Arthur Dent. Arthur bobbed slightly higher as Worf
|
|
leaps under him after Ford. Luckily for Arthur, the law of physics is too
|
|
busy concentrating on the Klingon suddenly slamming into Ford Prefect's chest
|
|
to notice him resting at his somewhat unusual altitude.
|
|
|
|
Ford quickly wraps the towel around Worf's throat, and shuts it tight. Worf
|
|
stands up unhurriedly and, with another Enterprise-shattering growl, rips the
|
|
towel away from his neck. Holding Ford by his cuff, Worf shook and shook
|
|
until Ford thought he's seeing five Eccentrica Gallumbits strip- teasing in
|
|
the background.
|
|
|
|
While Ford and Worf continue to struggle, or, more accurately, while Worf
|
|
continues to shook and Ford continues to wriggle, Arthur has gotten the hang
|
|
of this flying stuff once again. He floats over to Worf and gives him a swift
|
|
kick on the back of the head. Worf collapses noiselessly to the ground; Ford
|
|
and his towel land rather awkwardly underneath him.
|
|
|
|
Ford: (panting) Good work, Arthur. Rather brilliant of you ... to decide to
|
|
fly ...
|
|
|
|
Arthur: Ahem. Thank you, Ford, but I ...
|
|
|
|
Ford: Now, how 'bout help me get out (cough) from this Klingon mess ...
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile Trillian, with the help of Eddie, has brought sanity (or insanity,
|
|
depends on one's private View of Things) back to Zaphod, who is now standing
|
|
in the Heart of Gold and beaming out brightly at the ensemble in the Shuttle
|
|
Bay. Trillian stands a little behind him.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: (giving out a little laugh) Hi guys, what's beating you?
|
|
|
|
Startled, Arthur twirled around to face Zaphod, slightly losing his balance.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: My God, Arthur, you can't possibly be flying!
|
|
|
|
Now freed from the myriad of exercises that Worf had been giving it the last
|
|
five minutes or so, The law of physics suddenly glances sharply at Arthur,
|
|
demanding to know what in the universe he thinks he's doing up there, and
|
|
suddenly the ground greets Arthur's jaw with the sort of smug self-
|
|
righteousness you would expect from the ground when it sees the law of
|
|
gravity (even artificial gravity) blatantly denied, then suddenly corrected.
|
|
|
|
Arthur: I think we should probably get back to the Heart of Gold. Now.
|
|
|
|
They found that they had to carry Ford into the ship.
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 14:
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Enterprise, Dr. Beverly Crusher has just
|
|
arrived at the bridge.
|
|
|
|
Beverly: Oh my God, Commander, you've got to save my son!
|
|
|
|
Riker: But I'm too busy trying to save the Captain right now. Which one do
|
|
you want me to save first?
|
|
|
|
Beverly: Oh. Err ...
|
|
|
|
Suddenly, the Slimer loses grip on Wesley, and drops to the deck, gasping.
|
|
|
|
Slimer: Slime! Grease! Hazardous nuclear wastes! Cough, cough!
|
|
|
|
Wesley, now disengaged from Slimer, runs into Beverly's open arms as the two
|
|
closes in for a sentimental embrace.
|
|
|
|
Troi: Ohhh ... how sweet. This is such a touching moment *snif*.
|
|
|
|
Slimer: This place is too dry, too clean! I need water, great rolling tides of
|
|
black, polluted water! Seas! Seas of pizza cartons! Oceans of spilled crude
|
|
oil and hazardous waste drums!
|
|
|
|
Data: I believe the creature is dying, sir.
|
|
|
|
Riker pulls out his phaser and vaporizes Slimer.
|
|
|
|
Riker: (shrugs) Just putting it out of its misery.
|
|
|
|
Wesley and Beverly continues to hug vigorously.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Okay, Wes, now take your stations. We're going to rescue Captain
|
|
Picard.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: (disengaging from Beverly) Yes sir.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Load phasers and torpedoes, lock on target, and fire!
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Weapons fired, Commander.
|
|
|
|
There was a few blasts of orange-red explosions as the Enterprise's weapons
|
|
hit a few Borg landscape designers out on the hull surveying the ship's
|
|
exterior tower formation and arguing heatedly over the degree of curvatures
|
|
necessary for the service robot pathways in order to achieve maximum karma
|
|
enjoyment.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Data, damage report.
|
|
|
|
Data: Scanning, sir.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Commander!
|
|
|
|
Wesley is pointing at the main viewer, where they can see the Borg ship
|
|
slowly deteriorating. Bits and pieces are floating off its hull. Lights are
|
|
flashing on and off uncertainly, then decide to simply cease functioning.
|
|
|
|
Troi: It's dying, I can feel it! It's so ... oh!
|
|
|
|
Troi suddenly collapses onto the deck, weeping. Dr. Crusher kneels down
|
|
beside her, and runs her Sens-O-Medic over her body. She then throws up her
|
|
hands hopelessly.
|
|
|
|
Beverly: Sorry, Commander. Everything checks out normal. There's nothing I
|
|
can do.
|
|
|
|
Data: Counselor Troi is correct, Commander. Sensors are indicating that the
|
|
Borg is losing power at an astounding rate.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Yes! We did it! We've destroyed the Borg!
|
|
|
|
Data: But what about the Captain?
|
|
|
|
Riker: There's nothing we can do about him now. I guess I'll just have to
|
|
take over from now on. Data, turn the ship around. Let's get out of here.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Sir, the Borg is hailing us.
|
|
|
|
Riker: What? Oh, err ...
|
|
|
|
Wesley: It's probably the Borg asking for the terms of surrender.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Really? Oh, okay. Data, open visual transmissions on screen.
|
|
|
|
On the main viewer, a dismayed, limping, slouching, metallic figure walks up
|
|
the Borg's remaining operating camera. In the background, they can see dense,
|
|
acrid smokes fast filling the entire Borg ship. The figure seems to be
|
|
dragging something heavy behind him.
|
|
|
|
Figure: Hello there.
|
|
|
|
Will Zaphod and company finally be able to escape? Will Worf force himself
|
|
into the Heart of Gold before they can do so? Is Captain Picard dead? Will
|
|
Troi ever recover from her grief over ... what? And finally, who is this
|
|
mysterious metallic figure who hailed them from the Borg? For the answers to
|
|
these, and many other, non-towel-related questions, watch for the next
|
|
exciting _CONCLUSION_ of ...
|
|
|
|
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 15:
|
|
|
|
On the Heart of Gold, Ford is moaning and groaning in the sickbay while
|
|
Zaphod attempts to reason with Eddie ...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Tell me again why I can't just leave.
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Because we still have to get Marvin.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Marvin is gone. Poof. Blitzbo. Nobody knows where he is.
|
|
|
|
Eddie: I do.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Good for you. Now let's take us out of here, okay?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Wait, Zaphod. Eddie, why don't you tell us where Marvin is.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Is this really necessary?
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Yes. Now Eddie, where's Marvin?
|
|
|
|
Eddie: I'll show you.
|
|
|
|
The main viewer on the Heart of Gold comes alive. At first, all they can see
|
|
is a dense fog of acrid smoke. Then, from within the smoke, they can make out
|
|
a dismayed, limping, slouching, metallic figure slowly emerging from the
|
|
smoke. He seems to be dragging something heavy behind him.
|
|
|
|
Arthur, Trillian, Zaphod: Marvin!
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Hello there.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Marvin, where are you?
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Me? Oh, I'm just over here at the Borg's ship. Pretty smart of you
|
|
to drop me here when the improbability drive kicked in.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Zowee! You were over there with the scourge of the galaxy, Marvin?
|
|
It must have been exciting! Think of the danger!
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Don't talk to me about excitement.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: We didn't know you were there, honest. It was the improbability
|
|
field ...
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Sure, sure. That's what they all say. 'We didn't know that, Marvin'.
|
|
'We hope it won't inconvenience you too much, Marvin'. 'We didn't know you
|
|
were standing under that 50-ton weight when we dropped it, Marvin'. That's
|
|
all right, you don't have to explain. I'm quite used to it.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Marvin, we've been worried about you.
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Don't pretend that you care about me. It won't work. Nobody likes me.
|
|
Not even (he waves his hand around) this ship.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: The Borg? What happened to the Borg?
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Out of boredom, I hooked myself in with the Borg's collective
|
|
intelligence. I quickly became bored of the monotony of the Borg technology
|
|
and attempted to hold a conversation with the Borg central processing unit.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Wow. And ...
|
|
|
|
Marvin: We had the most enlightening conversation about the relationship
|
|
between outdoor landscape architectural design and Hinduism.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Hey, Marvin. That's great! (whispers to Trillian) What in Zarquon's
|
|
Flooding Bathtub is he talking about?
|
|
|
|
Marvin: As I said, the ship didn't like me. The subject of Hinduism lead to
|
|
the discussion to my personal view of the universe, and ...
|
|
|
|
Trillian: ... And?
|
|
|
|
Marvin: and the ship became so depressed it committed suicide.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: All right, Marvin! Way to go, kid!
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Don't start patronizing me.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Still, that doesn't explain the architectural failure that the Borg
|
|
is undergoing ...
|
|
|
|
Marvin: I have something that should explain that, too. (Marvin pulls out a
|
|
panel that was strapped to his back.) I took this off the central processing
|
|
unit. Would you like me to read it to you? It seems like the least that I can
|
|
do. It will only be another menial task that my vast intellectual capacity be
|
|
called upon to perform. It's always 'Marvin, would you scratch my back?', or
|
|
'Marvin, would you stick your hand in to check the temperature of my bath?',
|
|
or 'Marvin, would you mind going over there and rescuing that Starfleet
|
|
Captain?'. Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and they ask me to ...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: What does it say, Marvin?
|
|
|
|
Trillian appears to be puzzled by something that Marvin had just said ...
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Oh, I suppose that I should just get to the point, shouldn't I? I
|
|
mean, why am I even bother complaining, with this pain down on all the diodes
|
|
on my left side ...
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: (warningly) Marvin ...
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Yes, of course. It says, (reading) Another fine product of the Sirius
|
|
Cybernetics Corporation.
|
|
|
|
Trillian and Zaphod thought about this reflectively, then nodded in
|
|
comprehension. Yes, it all makes sense now.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: No doubt they'll be the first against the wall when the revolution
|
|
comes.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Yeah, no doubt.
|
|
|
|
Trillian continuously to be puzzled by something that Marvin had mentioned
|
|
earlier ...
|
|
|
|
Marvin: Anyway, the only reason that I called ...
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Marvin, Did you said something about a Starfleet Captain?
|
|
|
|
Marvin: As I was saying ... (he paused just long enought for effect) the only
|
|
reason that I called is because I think I have something that you might like
|
|
to take back.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Yeah, kid? What is it?
|
|
|
|
Marvin holds up the limp figure of Captain Picard, whom he had been dragging
|
|
behind him.
|
|
|
|
Marvin: (indicating the Captain) This.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Isn't that Captain Picard?
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Hey, yeah. What's he doing over there?
|
|
|
|
Marvin: (looking at the unconscious Picard) Not much.
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Hey, gang. The Enterprise is beaming Marvin and the Captain over.
|
|
Should I intercept the transmission for you?
|
|
|
|
On the main viewer, they see that both Marvin and Picard begins to fade as
|
|
the transporter kicks in to bring them back.
|
|
|
|
Trillian: Yes, Eddie. Bring Marvin here. We don't need the Captain.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Hey, I thought I was in charge here!
|
|
|
|
Moments later, Marvin alone appears on the Heart of Gold.
|
|
|
|
Marvin: You didn't have to do that, you know.
|
|
|
|
He slouches to his corner.
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
SCENE 16:
|
|
|
|
While Marvin was being transported to the Heart of Gold, Captain Picard
|
|
appears on the bridge of the Enterprise. Dr. Crusher quickly jumps in, runs
|
|
her Sens-O-Medic over the Captain, and gives him a dose of Inst-A-Wake on
|
|
the neck.
|
|
|
|
Picard: What happened, Number One.
|
|
|
|
Riker: Captain, I have rescued you from the Borg.
|
|
|
|
Data: Correction, Commander. It appears that the Captain was rescued by the
|
|
robot named Marvin, who is now in Shuttle Bay Three.
|
|
|
|
Riker: I thought I gave the orders to transport him directly to detention.
|
|
|
|
Data: You did, Commander. But the Heart of Gold intercepted that signal.
|
|
|
|
Riker: What? I thought Worf took care of those prisoners.
|
|
|
|
Data: Appearantly not, sir. My sensors are showing that the Heart of Gold is
|
|
now firing up their improbability drive.
|
|
|
|
Picard: (rising from the deck) Okay, I'm fine now. Data, come with me. We're
|
|
going to Shuttle Bay Three.
|
|
|
|
Beverly: But Captain, I need to run more checks on you. After all, the Borg
|
|
might have ...
|
|
|
|
Picard: Borgified me? Nonsense! They treated me rather well. All they wanted
|
|
was my opinion on this screenplay for Hamlet that they've worked out. It was
|
|
an excellent script, but I thought that their soliloquys can use a tad more...
|
|
|
|
Riker: Sir ...
|
|
|
|
Picard: Yes, Number One?
|
|
|
|
Riker: The prisoners, sir. Zaphod Beeblebrox on Shuttle Bay Three.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Oh yes, (clears his throat) "I hold my duty, as I hold my soul." That
|
|
was Polonius in Hamlet, Number One. Come, Data, speaking as Cade in Henry VI,
|
|
"our enemies shall fall before us!"
|
|
|
|
Picard and Data marches into the turbo-lift.
|
|
|
|
Beverly: Yep, he's fine, all right.
|
|
|
|
The twin door of the turbo-lift closes in on Picard and Data just as the
|
|
bridge starts to twist out of shape, the reason being that the Heart of Gold
|
|
has just kicked in their improbability drive. On the Heart of Gold, Ford is
|
|
rapidly having his body parts readjusted as Zaphod works out, or rather, have
|
|
Eddie work out, the improbability factors necessary to take them to their
|
|
next stop.
|
|
|
|
Arthur strolls leisurely back to his quarters where he finds, much to his
|
|
delight, four tiny bone china tea cups on four tiny bone china saucers
|
|
surrounding a tiny bone china tea kettle containing the best tea that he had
|
|
ever had. There is also a small note in Old English calligraphy saying,
|
|
"Share and Enjoy".
|
|
|
|
Ford was right. Arthur's wish has finally been realized.
|
|
|
|
He was also alarmed for a moment to find a somewhat confused cow standing
|
|
rather awkwardly in his closet, but the admonition rapidly fades away as he
|
|
realizes that the only cloth he has is the dressing gown that he is currently,
|
|
and has been for as long as he can now remember, wearing.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: (over the ship's intercom) All this adventure has made me hungry.
|
|
How 'bout you, monkey man?
|
|
|
|
Arthur: (sipping his tea, a dazed, content amusement on his face) Yeah, that
|
|
sounds fine.
|
|
|
|
Zaphod: Okay, then. Let's take a quick bite at Milliway's, the Restaurant at
|
|
the End of the Universe!
|
|
|
|
EPILOGUE: Data and Picard arrives at Shuttle Bay Three just in time to see
|
|
the Heart of Gold vanish in a sudden and unexpected tropical torrential
|
|
downpour. They help the overly wet and slightly dazed Lieutenant Worf off his
|
|
feet.
|
|
|
|
Data: Beeblebrox and the others have escaped, sir.
|
|
|
|
Picard: I see, Mr. Data.
|
|
|
|
Data: I wish I could have the opportunity to converse with the robot named
|
|
Marvin. He seems to have a ... personality.
|
|
|
|
Picard: Well, Data. Perhaps it's for the best ...
|
|
|
|
Holding Worf, Picard turns to leave.
|
|
|
|
Data: Captain, wait!
|
|
|
|
Picard: What is it, Data?
|
|
|
|
Data: (picking up a black book with the words "Don't Panic" written in large
|
|
friendly letters on the cover) The Heart of Gold left this behind.
|
|
|
|
Picard: (Taking the book and examining it) What is it?
|
|
|
|
Data: I believe that it is called the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, sir.
|
|
It is a wholly remarkable book. In fact, it is probably the most remarkable
|
|
book ever to come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor.
|
|
Not only is it a wholly remarkable book, it is also a highly successful one-
|
|
more popular than the 'Celestial Home Care Omnibus,' better selling than
|
|
'Fifty-three More Things to Do in Zero Gravity,' and more controversial than
|
|
Oolon Colluphid's trilogy of philosophical blockbusters, 'Where God Went
|
|
Wrong,' 'Some More of God's Greatest Mistakes,' and 'Who Is This God Person
|
|
Anyway?'
|
|
|
|
Picard: Intriguing, Mr. Data, please continue.
|
|
|
|
Data: Well, sir, in many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer
|
|
Eastern Rim of the Galaxy ...
|
|
|
|
* * * T h e E n d * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
[Data's explanation of the Hitchhiker's Guide quoted from the preface to the
|
|
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams ]
|