S t a r T r e k : D e e p S p a c e 9 H O U G H --------- with short: Satellite Owners! Must See! --------------------------- A MiSTing by Jim Gadfly gadfly@angelfire.com Published March 1, 2000 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 [Season 10 opening images and theme.] ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [SoL. Bridge. TOM and CROW are behind the console, looking anxiously at a PC monitor that sits atop it. A phone sits on the console beside the computer. MIKE stands beside the 'bots and looks at us.] MIKE: Hi everybody, and welcome to the Satellite of Love. I'm Mike Nelson, and these are my robot friends, Drool and Pant. CROW [Not noticing him] Why is it taking so long? TOM: I know, I know, but we've got to try and be patient. I'm sure a celebrity like her has a lot of security stuff built around her to keep away the kooks and weirdoes and stalkers. CROW: So why is it keeping US out!? MIKE: [Shakes his head, then] They responded to one of those email spams and bought one of those super duper people- finding programs, the type they keep trying to ban in all 50 states -- TOM: [Glancing back at him] Oh, no, Mike, this is a *new* release. *It's* so powerful they want to ban it in *60* states! And this version does all the work for you -- you just have to start it and tell it who to find. MIKE: Yeah, whatever. Anyway, of all the people in the world to try and contact, these two have decided to track down the phone number of _Voyager_'s Jeri Ryan. [TOM turns his attention fully to MIKE while CROW continues to stare at the screen and murmur under his breath.] TOM: You gotta problem with that? Just because *you'd* probably use the program to try to find the address of your Great Aunt Matilda somewhere in Iowa -- MIKE: Oh, come on, Tom! It's not like a sham program like this works anyway -- CROW: [Excitedly] LOOK! IT'S DONE! AND THERE'S HER PHONE NUMBER! [TOM whirls back to the monitor while Mike squints and looks down at it in surprise.] TOM: YES! See, smarty pants?! MIKE: Well, you don't think that's really the phone number of *the* Jeri Ryan, do you? CROW: Well, of course it is! When I bought it the guy on the phone guaranteed it would work or he'd send me your credit card number back when he was done with it. MIKE: *MY* credit card num-- TOM: Don't just stand there stammering, Nelson, make yourself useful! Dial that number for us on that speakerphone there! MIKE: Hey, I don't want any part of this. TOM and CROW: [Pleadingly] MIIIIKE! MIKE: Okay, okay! Jeez. [Glancing between monitor and phone, MIKE dials the number. We hear the tone of each button. We then hear the sound as the phone begins ringing on the other end. TOM and CROW wait with baited breath while MIKE places his hands on his hips and shakes his head again with a smile of condescension. Suddenly we hear the phone picked up on the other end, and the voice of a woman speaking in the neatly clipped, emotionless tones of _Voyager_'s Seven of Nine.] VOICE: Hello. This is Jeri Ryan. [TOM and CROW squirm with delight and suppress cheers as MIKE's jaw drops open in surprise.] CROW: Uh, yes, hello, Ms. Ryan? My name's Crow T. Robot. I'm with some guys who are being kept prisoner in a satellite orbiting the earth. VOICE: Yes, of course you are. I think I shall terminate this conversation now. TOM and CROW: [Panicking] NOOOO! TOM: WAIT! Please! Ma'am, this is Tom Ser--man -- [cough] -- Tom Sherman -- and I just wanted to say that we're really big fans of yours up-- I mean, over here. We think the character of Seven of Nine is a wonderful addition to the Star Trek legacy, and we've really enjoyed watching Seven's, ah, personal growth as an individual over the years. VOICE: [Still monotone] Thank you. I am glad for the opportunity to breath life into the character, although the challenge is well within the parameters of my acting abilities. MIKE: Uh, ma'am, my name's Mike. I couldn't help but wonder -- you're not anything like the character you play, are you? VOICE: [Monotone] Of course not. I am a warm and outgoing human being. Why do you ask? MIKE: Oh, no particular reason -- CROW: Ms. Ryan, I was wondering -- would you mind talking to us in some detail about those marvelous implants that they've used to enhance your [We hear a click and then dial tone] cranial cortex? [Pause] Uh, hello, Ms. Ryan? Hellu? TOM: [Disgustedly] Oh, way to go, Crow! CROW: Hey, I just wanted to talk about Borg technology! Why should she take offense to *that*?! [Tom sputters angrily as the mads light begins to flash.] MIKE: Looks like our own Borg Queen and her drones are calling. [To us] Yes, Mrs. Forrester? [Castle Forrester. BOBO is dressed in a Borg costume, with OBSERVER making minor adjustments to its fit. PEARL stands in front of them; she is holding a long syringe about half full of a bright bluish fluid.] OBS: [To BOBO] Is that comfortable? BOBO: Why, yes, it's -- [OBSERVER adjusts something] OWW! OBS: Is *that* comfortable? BOBO: No, it hurts like hell! OBS: Good. That's better. PEARL: [To us] Well, hello, Broadcast Host Unit Two of Two and adjunks! It seems you're not the only ones with Borg on the brain. While perusing the Internet for instructions on how to make nuclear and other weapons of destruction, I happened upon directions on "How to Build Your Own Borg", by one of those Trekkies or Treksters or whatever, who dedicate all their time to such endeavors in lieu of getting a real life. Anyway, I figured, hey, why not give it a shot? If it works, I may well be on my way to enslaving the entire world! So I got a volunteer -- BOBO: Who? PEARL: [To BOBO] You, you idiot! BOBO: Oh. Sorry. I must have forgot. [OBSERVER tightens something] OWWWW! PEARL: [To us] And I've got everything in place. I'm on the last step, whipping up this Borg juice. The problem is, I don't have the last ingredient -- I need a few thousand nanites. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to borrow a cup of yours. You *don't* mind, do you? Hummmmm? [SoL] MIKE: Well, actually, Mrs. Forrester, it's not like we *own* the nanites or anything, so we can't really -- [CF] PEARL: Good, I didn't think you'd mind. And speaking of minds -- Brain Guy? OBS: Huh? Oh. Right. [OBSERVER moves his head about for a second while "brain noise" plays. We hear a "pop", and the syringe is now full.] PEARL: Excellent! [She approaches a growingly apprehensive BOBO, then pauses and looks back at us.] It will be a while before this takes effect, so in the mean time why don't you all sit back and read a little Deep Space Nine fanfic dealing with the Borg that I also stumbled across on the Internet. It's not really all that long, so why don't you also take a look at a little spam I received addressed to "Satellite Owners." Since I own your satellite it caught my eye until I read a bit and realized it was a scam to rip off TV satellite broadcasts. Enjoy! Or not! Brain Guy? OBS: Yes, Madam. [Looks at us and jerks head about as "brain noise" plays again.] [SoL. Alarms blare and lights flash.] ALL: AAAAH! WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIGN! *...6...5...4...3...2...o... [Theater. Mike enters, carrying Tom, followed by Crow. They take their usual seats.] TOM: [Muttering] "Marvelous implants." Humph! CROW: Hey, I'm sorry! It's not like I was *trying* to be lewd or anything. She must have had a chip on her shoulder or something. MIKE: I guess that's not uncommon for a Borg, eh? Heh-heh. [TOM and CROW groan.] [The spam begins rolling.] > Subject: Satellite Owners! Must See! MIKE: Good grief! I don't know a lot of satellite dish owners that are blind, but I didn't know working vision was a *requirement*! CROW: Does the American Council of the Blind know about this? > Date: 01 Dec 99 1:24:00 PM > From: w289NxjOz@yahoo.com TOM: See what happens when you ask your ouija board to pick out your email address? > To: concentric.net MIKE: [Singing] Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel CROW: [Singing] Yet another piece of junkmail from some self-promoting heel ... > > > ACCESS ANY AND ALL CHANNELS ON YOUR SATELLITE SYSTEM CROW: Even the English Channel? > > Your Satellite receiver came with a little credit card size card > called a "smartcard". MIKE: [Dumb lummox voice] Uuuh, yeah, it did. I ate it, but I didn't get no smarter. Duuuuh. > This card controls which channels you do > and do not receive. We can take your card (can not give you a > new one - just take your existing one) TOM: So far sounds like a great deal! > and program it to receive > any and all channels offered by your satellite company. We mean > ANY and ALL. MIKE: [As spammer] And if you don't believe us, we'll keep repeating "ANY and ALL" until you DO! > > The reason we do this is CROW: -- to steal signal and fleece the satellite company? > for testing purposes. TOM: Oh yeah, right, "tesing purposes", wink-wink nudge-nudge. > Repair companies > need a way to test the channels after performing a repair on a > satellite system. MIKE: [As spammer] But we've found a way to exploit this technology for our own dubious ends! > If you would like to "test" your channels, > then we can help. CROW: Jeez, they even put "test" in quotes. TOM: They're about as subtle as an IRS audit. > > Now - Let's make sure we CAN program YOUR card. Take your card > out of the receiver and let's look at it. MIKE: Now remember what it is and slide it into the deck -- > If it says "DSS > ACCESS CARD" and is blue and has a picture of a satellite on > the front then TOM: -- you may already be a Grand Prize winner! > we are on the right track. Now, flip the card > over. MIKE: Did it land "heads" or "tails"? > There should be a serial number in the bottom right hand > corner. Does the serial number begin with H? CROW: Let's see. Mine says "H2O". Is that the serial? TOM: No, that's the watermark. > If so , we are in > business. TOM: Sleazy, unethical business but business nonetheless. > We CAN only program these cards. CROW: Okay, don't shout, we believe you! > > We can NOT program the cards with a picture of a football player > on the front or the Dish Network cards. TOM: [As spammer] Dick Butkus advertises his newspaper grill through these networks and has threatened to beat us up if we tried. > Remember, we can NOT > program Dish Network or the new cards with the football player > on the front. MIKE: [As spammer] In case you had a brain lapse since finishing the previous sentence. > > > Simply send us your card, we program it, we send it back. It is > as simple as that. CROW: Didn't they leave out something about a fee? MIKE: My guess is they're getting to that. > > If you would like to have your DSS card programmed to receive > ALL channels (including blacked out sporting events, pay per > views, premium channels) for testing purposes only, then call TOM: -- your satellite company and volunteer. > > 1-770-621-5852 CROW: [As spammer] We guarantee our price quote will be lower than any other hacker-spammer on the net! > DO NOT REPLY TO THE EMAIL ADDRESS ON THIS EMAIL. > PLEASE CALL FOR ASSISTANCE MIKE: The FCC and the FBI are a couple of places to start. CROW: Well. That was short and painle-- Well, anyway, it was short. TOM: Now I guess it's time for the fanfic. MIKE: So a drum roll, a little fanfic fanfare, and ... > Star Trek: Deep Space Nine TOM: To boldly orbit where lots of people have orbited before. > Hough CROW: Who? MIKE: Not "Who", "Hough." CROW: Huh? > by Ben Church TOM: Ben Church. Wasn't he married to Betty State? MIKE: Yeah, for a while, but they separated. > b_church@yahoo.com > Feedback! Please! MIKE: I'll bet this guy's really into Yoko Ono albums. > > DS9 and all associated stuff belongs to Paramount Pictures. This takes > place just prior to, and during, First Contact. CROW: First Contact with who? TOM: I think he's referring to the Star Trek movie with the Borg. CROW: Oh. > > Int. Station; Promenade upper level: JAKE SISKO is working on a > story, so engrossed is he, that he bumps into ODO. MIKE: Unfortunately for Jake, this was while Odo was morphed into a porcupine. > > JAKE: (Embarrassed) Sorry Odo I didn't see you there. > > ODO: Hunh. TOM: Odo always did have a way with words. > > JAKE wanders off, once more engrossed in his work. CROW: [As Jake] Where was I? Oh, yes. "See Spot run. Run, Spot, run." -- > > Pan to: MIKE: Neverland? > NORA ZIAL gets off a turbo-lift and looks around, bewildered. > she starts off to her left. She is still not used to the > station, and appears lost. TOM: Hence her bewilderment. CROW: I thought her name was "Tora Ziyal." MIKE: Maybe she converted? CROW: Oh, yeah, that would expla-- huh? MIKE: Think about it. > She does not get far: JAKE collides > with her as she turns a corner. CROW: [As Nora] OW! MY NECK! WHIPLASH! TOM: Maybe Jake should wear a bell around his neck when he's writing. > > JAKE: (apologetically) Oh, I'm sorry. > > NORA: No it was my fault. I'm still not used to the station. MIKE: [As Nora] And I deserve to be haphazardly run into by any random strangers at every corner. I'm a BAD GIRL. > > JAKE: Aren't you Gul Dukat's daughter? CROW: [As Jake] You know, that guy who slaughtered millions of innocent -- oops, sorry -- > > NORA: Yes I am, Nora Zial. And you're Captain Sisko's son aren't > you? Jake, right? TOM: No, he's Jake *Sisko*. You'd have a ways to go to find Mr. Right. > > JAKE: Yeah. Well, pleased to meet you. > > JAKE continues on his way. CROW: And accidentally falls down an empty turboshaft. > NORA looks after him, smiling > amusedly. MIKE: [As Nora] Hummmm. Tall, dark, and -- well, two out of three ain't bad! > > CUT TO: TOM: The chase? > Int. Ops.: O'BRIAN, KIRA, WORF and DAX are at their stations. CROW: "O'Brian"? MIKE: Yes. He's the engineer formerly known as "O'Brien". CROW: Have we wandered into one of those alternate universes? TOM: No. Alternate dictionary. CROW: Ah. > SISKO exits the turbolift. > > DAX: Good morning Benjamin. > > SISKO: Good morning old man. > > Console beeps. TOM: [As Sisko] And good morning to you, too, Console! > > DAX: Benjamin, I'm picking up increased nutrino levels. > Something's coming through the worm hole. > > SISKO: (smiling) I know what increased nutrino levels means by > now old man. MIKE: [As Sisko] So stop patronizing me. Dig? > On screen. (the smile fades from his face when he > looks at the viewscreen) CROW: [As Sisko] My God, that screen's FILTHY! When was the last time somebody DUSTED around here?! > > CUT TO: > Ext. space: Wormhole opens, small, BORG ship comes out. TOM: Well, I don't see any problem, it's just one small OH-MY-GOD-IT'S-THE-BORG-WE'RE-ALL-GONNA-DIE!!! > > CUT TO: > Int. Ops.: > > O'BRIAN: Bloody hell. It's too early in the morning for this. MIKE: The Borg weren't due till this afternoon! Everybody tidy up, QUICK! > > SISKO: Raise sheilds! > > BORG transporter effect. Severly injured HUGH beams onto bridge. CROW: Ah, the Borg had their hugh beams on. [MIKE & TOM groan.] > Then he falls to his knees. MIKE: [As Sisko] You don't have to do that. I mean, I *know* I'm the Emissary and all, but still -- > > ON VEIW SREEN: BORG ship explodes. TOM: Oh-oh, looks like they assimilated Ford Pinto technology. > > HUGH: (painfully) Help me. TOM: Hey, isn't that how Q appeared in that TNG episode where the other Q's had made him human and he was being hunted by that cloud of little aliens that were out for revenge on him? CROW: Yeah. Maybe this is a twist on that theme. "Hugh" here is actually Q in disguise! MIKE: Come on, guys, let's not jump to conclusions. TOM: Not that Pearl would let us jump to the conclusion anyway. > > ROLL OPENING MIKE: And it comes up -- oh, too bad, snake eyes! > > Ext. Station: > > SISKO voice over: Station log stardate 4106.3: Though there has > been no further wormhole activity since the arrival of the Borg > child, I am keeping the staion at yellow alert. TOM: Hey, I know Hugh's young, but a *child*? CROW: Well, he *is* a child of the universe. He *has* a right to be there. > > Cut to: > Int. Infirmiry: CROW: "Infirmiry." Is that like an "infirmary"? MIKE: No, an "infirmiry" is a place where people go to buy Viagra. CROW: Seriously? MIKE: Noooo, not *seriously*. > O'BRIAN watches as BASHIR examines a comotose > HUGH who lies on a bed. Two SECURITY GAURDS are also present. TOM: They're filling out forms while a nurse checks their insurance. > > Continue voice over: I've had Hugh transferred to the Infirmery. > Under gaurd. ALL: With liberty and justice for all. > According to Starfleet records Hugh once saved the > life of Captain Picard. But that does not inspire much > confidence in me. TOM: Oh-oh, looks like Sisko's still got *is-sues* over that "Locutus" thing. [Pronounces "is-sues" in British style, i.e. no "sh" sound.] > > BASHIR: (annoyed) Chief, are these gaurds really neccesary? CROW: [As O'Brian] Of course! In case something happens where the story needs to kill off a couple of people, you don't want to have to start wasting main characters, do you? > > O'BRIAN: To be honest Julian, I don't think so. But it's Captain > Sisko's orders. MIKE: [As O'Brian] And in this age of egalitarian enlightenment it's important to obey your superiors' orders whether they make sense or not! > > BASHIR: I suppose I can understand his caution. It can't be easy > being faced with a representative of the race that killed his > wife. CROW: Hugh was elected as a Representative? TOM: I didn't even know the Borg had a Congress! > > O'BRIAN: And is still a threat to the Federation Julian. Let's > not forget about that. (under his breath) Bastards. > > SISKO enters, takes in the scene. MIKE: But they weren't done with it yet! > > SISKO: (to BASHIR) How is he? CROW: [As Bashir] Well, I can tolerate him. But he keeps swearing about the Borg. MIKE: He's referring to Hugh, Crow, not O'Brian! CROW: Oh. Sorry. > > BASHIR: He'll live. The damage was surprisingly minimal. With > the Cheif's help here, I've repaired the damage to both his > organic tissue, and his cybernetic implants. TOM: [As Bashir] Now that we're done here, we're ready to start those repairs on Robocop. > > SISKO: Is it safe to wake him? > > BASHIR: I don't see why not, he should be fine. MIKE: That's good to know. Most Borg are coarse. > > SISKO: Do it. We need to find out what happened. (He nods to > the guards, who draw their phasers.) TOM: Ah, so the guards are also art students! > > (BASHIR presses a hypo to HUGH'S arm, with a HISS. CROW: Why's Bashir hissing? TOM: No, not Bashir, the hypo, you idiot! CROW: Hey! Anybody could make that mistake! > HOUGH jerks > awake, emitting a short scream of terror before taking in his > surroundings.) MIKE: He then emits a *long* scream of terror. TOM: Wait a minute. The author names the story "Hough", then refers to the character as "Hugh" since then, but now he's calling him "Hough" again. Which spelling is correct? MIKE: Well, it's not like Hugh/Hough has it on a birth certificate. Maybe it's one of those names with multiple "correct" spellings, like "Shakespeare" or "Khadaffi." CROW: I thought it was "Gadafi." MIKE: That's my point. > > HOUGH: (Looking around) You are Starfleet. TOM: And we are Sci-Fi. > (He looks at O'Brian) > You are O'Brian. You are of the Enterprise. (relieved) I made > it. CROW: Oh, gross! Hough relieved himself right on the bed! > > SISKO: Not quite I'm afraid. You are on the Bajoran Space > Station Deep Space Nine. > > HOUGH: (resigned) TOM: Oops. Looks like Larry Flynt found out about his indiscretions. MIKE: So much for Hough's Congressional career. > It does not matter. You are still Starfleet, > and for now I am safe. CROW: Unless the Borg attack. Or the Dominion -- or the Klingons -- or -- > > SISKO: What happened to you? I've never heard of Borg travelling > alone, even after your encounters with the Enterprise crew. MIKE: And if encountering the Enterprise crew isn't enough to make you want to take a long, lonely getaway ... > > (HOUGH looks at the security guards who still have phasers > trained on him.) > > HOUGH: You do not trust me. TOM: Not much gets by Hough, does it? > > SISKO: (ignoring HOUGH's comment.) I'll repeat the question. > What happened? > > (HOUGH studies SISKO for a moment then speaks.) > > HOUGH: The Federation is in danger. I am the last survivor of my > people, the Indiviual Borg. CROW: Oh-oh, Hough's slurring his words, he must not be completely awake yet. > The Queen has taken a personal > interest in your people. First, her ship attacked, and decimated > our colony, and now she heads for sector 001. MIKE: She wants to find out why, with all the proud races in the galaxy, they condescended to allow *your* planet to bear the "001" designation. > > BASHIR, SISKO and O'BRIAN: The Borg Queen? TOM: [As Hough] Oh, yes. It's a new plot contrivance being brought in by the writers to inject an unnecessarily new humanizing wrinkle and odd sexuality into an otherwise unique and fascinating concept. Like it? > > CUT TO: > (The Defiant being readied for departure.) CROW: [As a maintenance worker] Chewie, bring me the hydrospanners! > > SISKO: (V.O.) Station Log; Supplemental. > Long range sensors from several Starbases confirm Hough's claim > that the Borg are once again headed for Earth. MIKE: Well it *is* the start of tourist season there. TOM: And Paramount King's Dominion *did* just open a fantastic new roller coaster! > In preparation, > Starfleet has called most of the fleet back to Earth to stop > them, including the Defiant, under the command of Liutenant > Commander Worf. CROW: Since we can of course trust the Dominion not to take advantage of the situation. > > KIRA: (Walking up to O'BRIAN who is checking things off on a > list.) How is she chief? MIKE: [As O'Brian, startled] AAAH! Don't DO that! > > O'BRIAN: Ready as she'll ever be Major. The engines are purring > like a kitten- > > KIRA: What? > > O'BRIAN: Oh, sorry, old earth slang. It means the engines are > working fine. TOM: [As Kira] Ah, then you mean they're braffling like a vorsnooth. > Anyway the phasers are set to randomly rotating > frequenies thanks to Dax and Worf, and so are the shields. > > KIRA: (quietly) I hope it'll be enough. > > O'BRIAN: So do I Major. So do I. > > (CUT TO: SISKO'S office. WORF, DAX and HOUGH stand before SISKO > who is seated at his desk.) CROW: [As Sisko, ala King of Siam] Just a moment -- who said your heads may be higher than mine?! > > SISKO: Is everything ready? > > WORF: Yes sir. Chief O'Brian informs me that the Defiant will be > ready to leave within the hour. MIKE: [As Worf] So if anything goes wrong, it's all *O'Brian's* fault! > > SISKO: Good. (broods for a moment, then TOM: -- his eggs hatch. > looks at WORF.) Good > luck to you Mr. Worf. You'd better do better than the last > armada that tried to stop the Borg. CROW: Hey, it wasn't a *total* loss. I think they had *one* survivor. > > WORF: Yes sir. We will stop the Borg or die. > > SISKO: (smiles grimly) It's that last part that worries me Mr. > Worf. MIKE: Hey, dying is easy. *Comedy* is hard. > > Cut to: > O'BRIAN: (putting on the new uniform jacket.) It's not fair, I > just got used to the old uniform. TOM: Tell us about it. It's like trying to keep up with the design of your favorite Internet web site. > > KEIKO: Oh quit complaining Miles, I like this one. CROW: [As O'Brian] But it makes me look fat! > > (O'BRIAN smiles.) > > O'BRIAN: You picked quite a time to come back. MIKE: [As O'Brian] I just barely had time to hide that Dabo girl in the closet when -- oops! > > MOLLY: (entering) Mommy, Daddy, he did it again! > > O'BRIAN: I changed him last time. > > KEIKO: You weren't there last time. CROW: Who are they talking about? Worf? Bashir? > > O'BRIAN: (sigh) You'd think in the twenty fourth century we'd > have done away with dirty diapers. MIKE: Apparently Pampers is lost technology. TOM: Another victim of the chaos wrought by the Eugenics Wars. CROW: The BASTARDS! > > Int. Sisko's Office. WORF is gone, but DAX and HOUGH are still > there. SISKO is obviously still uncomfortable with HOUGH. > > SISKO: How are the preparations coming Old Man? TOM: Let's see, Dax is still an Old Man, and Hough is a child. MIKE: You think it's time Sisko had that laser eye surgery? > > DAX: We're almost done Benjamin. Rom is turning out to be a big > help. He's more familiar with the Cardassian's systems. > > SISKO: (to HOUGH) Are you certain the Borg will come looking for > you? CROW: [As Sisko] I mean, you *really* don't seem that important to me. > > HOUGH: I am not certain of anything these days Captain Sisko. MIKE: Ah, Hough's discovered Jean Paul Sartre. > But they attempted to wipe out the Individual Borg. As I am the > last of them, it is reasonable to assume they will come after me. > It would be safer for all concerned if I left the station. TOM: [As Hough] Remember my relief at being safe when I got here earlier? Well, forget it! > > SISKO: Absolutely not. CROW: [As Sisko] Not until you've finished your dinner and cleaned up your room! > > HOUGH: I do not understand. The Borg were responsible for the > death of your wife. I present a danger to your station simply by > my presence, and yet you protect me. TOM: [As Sisko] My God, you're right! What was I thinking?! SCRAM!!! > > SISKO: You've apparently got a lot to learn about being human > Hough. MIKE: [As Sisko] You see, we're *really* stupid. > Whether I like you, or trust you or not, you're still a > human being in danger. And besides, I'm not letting you out of > my sight for a second. CROW: You mean he's going to sleep with him and bathe with him and go with him to the little Borg's room? TOM: I don't think he meant it *that* literally. > > HOUGH considers this. > > HOUGH: I see. MIKE: [As Hough] Therefore I -- no, that isn't it -- > > DAX looks from SISKO'S steely gaze, to HOUGH'S unwavering one. TOM: And suddenly goes into a deep hypnotic trance. > > DAX: Benjamin, could I talk to you for a moment? Alone? CROW: Oh-oh. It's not going to turn into one of *those* types of fanfics, is it? > > HOUGH: I may assist Rom in the preparations. MIKE: Especially Preparation H. > > DAX: Good idea. > > HOUGH exits. CROW: So much for Sisko not letting Hough out of his sight for a second. > > SISKO: I don't want to hear it Old Man. TOM: So he plugs his fingers in his ears and starts humming loudly. > > DAX: Well too bad. 'Cause you're going to. I understand that > Hough's presence here is an uncomfortable reminder of Jennifer's > death, but Hough isn't responsible for that. > > SISKO: It's not that easy. > > DAX: (Sympathetically) No, it never is. MIKE: [As Dax] I remember when I lost my second host's first wife. Or was it my fourth host's third husband? No, I think it was my fifth host's second mistress. Then again, it might have been my third host's first husband -- > > CUT TO: > > INT. JEFFERIES TUBE > ROM and JAKE are working on something. TOM: Mr. Church has *got* to work on his technobabble. > > ROM: Hand me the spanner. > > JAKE: (handing it to him) Are you scared? CROW: [As Rom] Naah, I've used the spanner lots of times. > > ROM: What? > > JAKE: Are you scared. Of the Borg coming. > > ROM: (looks up from his work) Of course I am. You'd have to be > insane not to be. Which is why I'm working so hard on our new > defenses. (He pauses in his work) How about you? MIKE: [As Rom] Are *you* insane? > > JAKE: The Borg killed my mother. CROW: [Singing, Spanish accent] A Borg like that, he kill your mother ... > > ROM: (he did not know (god knows why he didn't)) TOM: Hey now, no riffing your own material, Mr. Church! > Oh, I'm sorry. > You really must be scared. Maybe you should evacuate with the > rest. MIKE: [As Jake, embarrassed] I already evacuated once -- the moment that I heard that the Borg were coming. TOM & CROW: Oooo. > > JAKE: (taking a deep breath) No. I can't keep running. CROW: [As Jake] My Energizer battery's finally wearing down. > Besides, > if we win, think of what a great story it'll make. MIKE: Probably better than _Star Trek V: The Final Frontier_ anyway. TOM: Oh, like *that's* real hard. > > HOUGH: (O.S.) Geordie would call you an "Optimist". > > JAKE: (freezing) Hough. CROW: [As Jake, shivering] Close the hatch when you enter a Jeffries tube! Jeez, you raised in a *vacuum* or something?! > > HOUGH crawls onto screen. TOM: [As Shatner] Must ... get ... into ... PICTURE ... > > HOUGH: Jake Sisko. (There is remorse on his face) Your mother > was killed at Wolf 359. I am sorry. MIKE: [As Hough] But honest, I was on Fox 5 at the time! > > JAKE: (taking a while to answer) It wasn't your fault. You > weren't there. And even if you were, you weren't responsible for > your behavior when you were a Borg. TOM: Typical liberal attitude. Not holding him responsible for anything. It was because of his environment, blah, blah, blah. MIKE: Good grief, Tom, he was a *Borg*, his every movement was literally under remote control! TOM: Yeah, yeah. Excuses, excuses. Ever hear of "just say no"? > > HOUGH: Strange. You have forgiven me for being what I am, yet > your father still resents it. Why is this? > > ROM: Children's minds are more accepting than those of adults. CROW: So Jake's still a "child", too? MIKE: I guess childhood lasts a lot longer in the 24th century. > > JAKE: You don't get half the credit you deserve Rom. MIKE: [As Jake] We'll talk to the producers about moving your name up higher in the opening. > > HOUGH: (regarding Jake's laughter and Rom's smile) Is this what > is known as, an Inside Joke? > > They laugh harder. TOM: Thus further alienating their visitor. > > Cut To: > > EXT. Space: > > The Wormhole opens. A Borg Cube comes through. CROW: Ha! And they said you couldn't fit a square peg through a round hole! > > INT. Ops. > > SISKO: Sisko to Rom. We've run out of time. I hope those > modifications are complete. > > ROM: (on comm) We're done Captain. We just finished. > > O'BRIAN: Not a moment too soon. They're hailing us. ALL: [Bowing] HAIL, SISKO! HAIL, SISKO! > > DAX: Do we really need to know what they have to say? > > SISKO: I doubt it Old Man. I'm pretty sure at least three of us, > me included could repeat their speech verbetim. TOM: Okay, Trekkers, name the three people Sisko is referring to, in the order they encountered the Borg. GO! > > BORG: (on comm) We are the Borg. MIKE: [Singing] We are the children ... > We will add your technological > and biological distinctiveness to our own. You will be > assimilated. Resistance is futile. CROW: Well, it's either the Borg or Microsoft. > > Odo: (while they're talking) Looks like we don't have a choice > about listening to them or not. TOM: It sounds like *you've* found a way, motormouth. > > O'BRIAN: They're forcing their signal through somehow sir. > > SISKO: The Borg always were, insistent. CROW: Almost as bad as those space-faring Jehovah's Witnesses. > > Cut To: > > Int. Quarks. The Borg message broadcasts all over the station. > > QUARK: I knew I should have evacuated with the others. TOM: And thus does Quark make his invaluable contribution to the plot! > > Cut to: > > Int. Ops. > Sisko isn't listening to the Borg. MIKE: He also *isn't* listening to Bach, the Beatles, the breaking of the ocean waves against the cliffs, the chirping of crickets, the sound of silence -- > > SISKO: Mr. O'Brian, raise shields and open fire with our new phasers. > We'll show them how "futile" our resistance is. > > Cut to: > Ext. Station. The Borg Cube is damaged by the pasers, CROW: Who are hurling basketballs at them -- > which begin to > change color. TOM: It's the Amazing Technicolor Phaser Bank! > The pounding continues. MIKE: It's worse than a teenage neighbor's rock band! > > Cut to: > Int. Ops. > > SISKO: Are they adapting? CROW: No, they refuse to. Fortunately, these are Amish Borg. > > O'BRIAN: They're certainly trying sir, but so far our phaser > modulations are giving them a hard time. > > SISKO: Good, keep it up Chief. Fire torpedos. TOM: Actually, the term they use nowadays is "rightsize". > > Cut to: > Ext. Space. > > The Borg cube sustains more damage, but the tractor beam turns on. MIKE: [As Borg, irritated] And just what part of "futile" don't you people UNDERSTAND?! > > Cut To: > > Int. Ops. > > DAX: They're attempting to lock on with their tractor beam. Modulating > shield frequencies. > > The station shakes. CROW: Man, this station ROCKS! > > KIRA: They've got us! > > O'BRIAN: Already? Damn shields. TOM: And damn the torpedoes! > > DAX: Benjamin, I'm reading several intruders. MIKE: _Several Intruders_, the new Jackie Collins novel. On sale at bookstores everywhere. And now, back to our story. > > HOUGH(on comm): Sisko, there may be a way to stop them. > > SISKO: Then let's hear it! CROW: [As Hough] All you need is love! Love! Love is all you need! > > Cut To: > Int. Cube > Three Quantum Torpedos appear in the CENTRAL CHAMBER TOM: A laughing death's head suddenly appears on the Borg's monitors. > > Cut to: > Ext. Space the tractor beam cuts off, as chain reactions rock > the cube. Finally it explodes. ALL: [As at a fireworks display] Oooooooo! Aaaaaaah! > > Int. Ops: > > O'BRIAN: We're not out of the woods yet captain. Several Borg beamed > aboard just before the cube exploded. > > SISKO: Where are they?" > > O'BRIAN: The Promenade. MIKE: At least they're not in the Dosado. > > SISKO: Put all security teams on alert. All hands, this is captain > Sisko. Intruder alert. Repeat, intruder alert. > > Cut to: Int. Promenade. > > A passing security guard is assimilated, and fire is exchanged. CROW: That darned Quark can barter with *anybody*! > > Cut To: Int. Ops. > > HOUGH arrives, and hurries to SISKO > > HOUGH: You cannot defeat them with phasers captain. The Borg will > adapt. > > SISKO: I'm well aware that the Borg adapt Hough. What else to we have > but phasers? TOM: Blood, toil, tears, and sweat? > > HOUGH, in answer, goes to the bridge replicator and scans it. He then > taps some buttons, and CROW: -- produces the best cup of Earl Grey tea you've ever tasted! > a futuristic looking rifle appears. MIKE: Define "futuristic" in this context. > > DAX: Projectile weapons? > > HOUGH: Armor piercing rounds. The Borg will still adapt quickly, but > we, THEY, are unaccustomed to non-energy type weapons. TOM: Then they'd probably have a heck of a time trying to assimilate Endor. > > KIRA: Why is that? Don't you (HOUGH winces) sorry, they encounter > species primitive enough? > > HOUGH: Yes, but the Borg do not confront them face to face. They just > assimilate those civizations from orbit. CROW: Really? Then I have two questions. First, how do they do that? And second, why even bother with such "primitive" species? TOM: Well, even so-called primitive species might have *something* the Borg could find useful. MIKE: Yeah. Maybe their chefs developed a great quiche Lorraine recipe or something. > > DAX: (smiles at him, then looks at SISKO) Looks like it's a good thing > he's on OUR side. MIKE: [As Sisko] Yeah. Now if I could just get *you* off my *back*. > > SISKO: (ignoring her) Sisko to Secutity, equip two out of each team > with automatic projectile weapons. TOM: I guess we're not going to bother being any more specific than that, eh? MIKE: Ah, you seen one automatic projectile weapon, you've seen 'em all. CROW: It's a good thing Charlton Heston didn't hear you! > > Cut To: Montage of scenes of battle, the two sides appearing mostly > equal at first, but finally the Borg begin to gain ground. CROW: Quick, replicate some crossbows and broadswords! > > A Borg attempts to assimilate Odo, but he morphs away, then snaps the > Borg's neck. MIKE: Old changelings never assimilate, they must morph away. > > Cut to: Ops. > > HOUGH listens with the others to the increasingly bad progress reports. TOM: He starts feeling like Bill Clinton during Election Night 1994. > > HOUGH heads for the transporter. > > SISKO: Hough! Where do you think you're going? CROW: [As Hough] To the transporter! Didn't you read the script?! > > HOUGH: The Borg will prevail unless I stop them. TOM: Oh, let's not get delusions of grandeur or anything. > > He beams himself to the Promenade, where the Borg are nearly > unchallenged. He blasts three Borg with his own Borg gun, attatched > to his arm, before they adapt. MIKE: [As Hough to remaining Borg, nervously] Oh, uh, hey guys! S-Sorry about that little malfunction with my gun there -- > > While the Secruity Officers rally, he takes on two Borg hand to hand. ALL: [Old Star Trek fight theme] Ba ba ba ba, ba ba-ba-ba, ba -- > > More security arrives, and HOUGH is caught in the crossfire. His body > jerks as it is hit by bullets and Borg Distrupters. CROW: But ironically two droids pass though the crossfire and aren't even hit once. > > Staggering, he grabs one of the Borg Drones and pricks it with the > electrode on his bionic arm. Sparks fly from the Drone, and then, > one by one, from the others. TOM: Ah, Hough took advantage of the Borg's unfortunate decision to assimilate Christmas tree light technology. > > Cut To: > Int. Promanade. Security is cleaning up. SISKO and O'BRIAN are over > seeing the work. MIKE: [As Sisko] Hey! You missed a spot! > > SISKO: What happened to them chief? (he indicates the prone bodies of > all the drones.) CROW: They DIED. Like, DUH! MIKE: I think he's looking for a bit more detail. CROW: Oh. > > O'BRIAN: Near as I can tell sir, Hough sent some sort of electrical > impulse through their network that shorted them all out. TOM: He made them all think it had just turned midnight of January 1, 2000. > He saved the > station. MIKE: Is he talking about all of UPN or just the local affiliate? > > SISKO stands for a moment, dealing with the fact that a Borg had saved > them all. He turns to leave. CROW: Too bad Troi's not on the station. He could use some time with her right now. TOM: Yeah, sounds like he needs to talk to a good counselor. CROW: Huh? Oh, yeah, the counseling part might help, too. > > CUT TO: > Int. Infirmary > > HOUGH lies on a biobed, most of the borg implants removed. MIKE: Oops, this isn't the infirmary, it's the makeup ward at the end of the day's filming! > > SISKO: How is he Doctor? > > BASHIR: He'll live. His implants took the brunt of the damage, so I > removed most of them. Given time, he should make a complete recovery. > But I imagine being more man than machine may be of some shock to him. TOM: [As Bashir] Especially since I left some of his remaining wires exposed. > > Close up of HOUGH, as his skin turns from deatly pale, to a more > healthy color. CROW: Hey, the biobed doubles as a tanning booth! Neat! > > CUT TO: > Int. Quarks. > JAKE, NORA ZIAL, HOUGH, and MORN sit at the bar. HOUGH is trying > something from a mug. > > ZIAL: I never could stand the stuff myself. MIKE: [As Zial] I always preferred injectables. > > JAKE: Well Hough, how do you like it? > > HOUGH: I do not know. I am unfamiliar with the concept of taste. TOM: In that case he might qualify to work for Jerry Springer. > Perhaps if I had something to compare this...Root Beer to. CROW: [As Jake] Good point. Quark, bring our friend a Romulan Ale! > > SISKO enters, and heads for the bar. MIKE: Sadly, a not uncommon occurrence around DS9. > > SISKO: Hough. I need to talk to you. > > HOUGH: Of course Captain Sisko. (he rises, and follows SISKO) > > SISKO leads him to the back of the bar. TOM: [As Sisko, quietly] Sorry, man, but boss says if you ain't got the dough I gotta break an arm. > > SISKO: This isn't easy for me to say. CROW: [As Sisko] But Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. > Thank you. And I'm sorry. I > let my personal predjudices effect my treatment of you, and you didn't > deserve that. TOM: Now all you readers take heed of the moral represented here. And note the irony of prejudice with the racial juxtaposition of -- MIKE: Okay, Tom, uh, I think they got it. TOM: You really think so? 'Cause I don't mind explaining-- MIKE: No, no, really, that's okay. > > HOUGH: It is understandable Captain Sisko. But your apology is > accepted, as is your thanks. > > SISKO: Have you given any thought as to what you'll do now? CROW: [As Hough] I'm going to DISNEYWORLD! > > HOUGH: I have. Geordie has extended an invitation for me to visit him. > I think I will take advantage of it. TOM: [As Hough] I figured I'd hang at his place for a few weeks, eat up all his cheetos, suck up all his beer -- hey, what's wrong, Mike? MIKE: [Sniff, then] I'm suddenly homesick for my brother Eddie. > I was most pleased to hear that > the Borg were defeated on Earth. > > SISKO: What will happen to the Borg now that their queen is dead? CROW: Maybe they'll hire Elton John to adapt one of his old songs to commemorate the event? > > HOUGH: There will be another Queen. You have not seen the last of the > Collective Capatain. TOM: [As Q] Mon Capatain! CROW: See! I *told* you it was Q in disguise! > > SISKO sighs. MIKE: [As Sisko] Oh, well. I guess it's easier than asking our writers to think up more *original* plots. > > SISKO: I thought as much. (he shakes HOUGH'S hand) CROW: And tragically activates Hough's Borg gun. MIKE: [As Bashir] Darn, I *knew* I should have extracted that part while I was at it. TOM: But that would have violated Hough's Second Amendment rights! > Good luck Hough. > > HOUGH: And to you Captain. And to you. MIKE: [As Hough] 'Cause soon *your* series will be ending, too, and then *you'll* be out scrounging for new roles. > > The End > CROW: Ah. The end of a generous Church offering. MIKE: [Picking up TOM] What say we beam ourselves out of here? TOM: You'll get no resistance from me. [All exit theater.] ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [SoL. Bridge. CROW, MIKE, and TOM enter from the side and take their places behind the console.] MIKE: So, guys, what did you *really* think of the story? CROW: Actually, Mike, you know it wasn't all that bad. TOM: I agree. Granted, it could have used a swipe through a spell-checker, but overall, we've read worse. CROW: Yeah. *Lots* worse. The main storyline flowed relatively well, the dialog wasn't too bad, the characters stayed pretty much *in* character, and the author added some interesting and important details. MIKE: You mean like subplots? Yeah, I'm with you. For example, I liked the way the author dealt with Sisko struggling with his inner demons over his wife's death at the hands of the Borg, and its association with Hough. I thought that was handled well. TOM: And the little interplay Mr. Church introduced between Dukat's daughter and Jake. Here I think he may be hinting at the possibility of an intriguing "Romeo and Juliet"-type of relationship between the offspring of the two great rivals of the DS9 series which the actual authors never even appeared to consider. MIKE: I think they were probably preoccupied, what with a major galactic war going on and all. TOM: Oh, so now you're making *excuses* for them! CROW: But you guys are overlooking the most important detail of all! TOM: Really? MIKE: What's that, Crow? CROW: Morn! [MIKE and TOM pause, stare a Crow for a moment, glance at each other warily for another moment, then look back to CROW.] MIKE & TOM: Morn? CROW: Of course! All the best DS9 episodes feature Morn! All real Star Trek fans know that! TOM: Like who? CROW: Like All Real Fans, you dweeb! MIKE: But all he did was sit at the bar. CROW: And that's almost all he ever does. But that's not the point! Call it what you will, but for some reason, whenever Morn appears in an episode, that episode is a memorable one. Even the DS9 writers eventually realized this, and started forcing him into episodes, even giving him a feature role in the classic "Who Mourns for Morn." Remember? MIKE: Uh, yeah, I guess so. TOM: Crow, you are REALLY out in left field with this one! CROW: Oh, yeah? What about the story we just read? You think it would have been the same without Morn? TOM: No, it would've been one word shorter. MIKE: I must admit, Crow, I've having a problem buying into this "cosmic relevance of Morn's presence" thing, too. CROW: Oh, fine, just forget it then! Serves me right for trying to bring a little analytical enlightenment into the lives of a couple of TrekKIES! I think I'll just go back in my room and listen to my "Transformed Man" album. [Exits in a huff.] MIKE: [After CROW] Crow, wait, we didn't -- TOM: Ah, let him go, Mike. He'll listen to Shatner for a while, then heave a couple of times, then he'll be back to normal. MIKE: Oh, well. Say, I wonder why Pearl sent us this story instead of the stinkers she normally sends. TOM: Maybe she was so busy with reading about how to turn Bobo into a Borg that she didn't pay the story that much attention. MIKE: Hey, yeah. I wonder how they're doing down there. [Along with TOM, looks at us] Mrs. Forrester? Brain Guy? Borg-bo? How is it going? [Castle Forrester. We see BOBO, no longer in Borg costume but rather dressed in a tuxedo, with a gray moustache and wavy gray hair on the top of his head. He is sitting at a grand piano and playing music from an opera by Mozart. He pauses, looks at us, and speaks. He has a heavy Danish accent.] BOBO: At this point the chorus comes in. Nobody knows why except for Mozart and *he* is *dead*. [BOBO starts playing another classical tune as the camera pulls back and PEARL and OBSERVER step into the foreground several feet in front of him. PEARL is obviously irritated, but OBSERVER has his eyes closed and seems to be absorbed in the music.] PEARL: [To us] Thanks a lot for the defective nanites, Nelsoid. Instead of turning Bobo into a BORG, that formula turned him into a BORGE. A really BAD Borge. BOBO: [Pausing in the middle of the music] Does anyone have any requests? I hardly ever do requests -- except, of course, when I'm asked to. OBS: Can you play "Liebestraum"? BOBO: Yuck! I'd rather play Canasta! PEARL: [To OBSERVER, gruffly] Will you stop egging him on?! BOBO: It's quite all right, Madam. It wouldn't be the first time I was "egged on" during a concert. PEARL: [Shaking her head] Cripes, even *Clayton* was never this irritating. BOBO: You think *you* had problems with your *one* child? I have *two* rambunctious little tikes. Twins! Both of them! [Both PEARL and OBSERVER pinch the bridge of their noses and moan.] BOBO: Would you like to hear my phonetic punctuation? PEARL: Actually, I plan to do a little PUNCHuating of my own. Tell me, "Victor", did you ever *die* on stage? BOBO: Alas, yes, Madam, I've "died" on stage many times. PEARL: I thought so. Well, prepare to do so again ONE LAST TIME. [She begins approaching BOBO menacingly.] BOBO: [His eyes growing wider with fright] OH-OH! [BOBO begins rapidly playing the main theme from Mozart's "Requiem" as PEARL draws nearer. Fade to black.] [Roll credits and play closing theme.] 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 | | | Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its associated characters | | and situations are the property of and trademarks of Best | | Brains, Inc. Star Trek in all its incarnations, and its related | | characters and situations, are trademarks of and copyrighted by | | Paramount Studios. In no way should this MiSTing be construed to | | be an infringement on those rights. | | Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment | | purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trade- | | marks held by Best Brains, Inc., or Paramount is intended or should | | be inferred. | | This work is a satire and not intended as a personal attack upon | | the original author(s) or other persons or characters presented, | | and is meant only as entertainment and commentary. | | | | Source for "Hough" (copied with permission) from | | http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/9028/ds9.txt | | | | For other Ben Church works, including his own MiSTing of _Aliens_, | | visit http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/9028/index.html | | | |---------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | Please visit "Jim Gadfly's MiSTing Page" for a list of all my | | MiSTings as well as tools and resourse links for other MiSTing | | authors. | | http://www.angelfire.com/va/gadfly | | | 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 > ROM: (he did not know (god knows why he didn't))