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Scene 1: Enterprise Bridge. Everyone at his/her stations.
Data: Captain, sensors are picking up two vessels ahead. One
appears to be firing upon the other. However, I am
receiving no distress signals.
Picard: Is it the Borg, Mr. Data?
Data: I believe it is the Borg, sir. The larger ship appears
to be rectangular in shape.
Riker: Red Alert! Shields up! Fire all weapons!
Picard: Delay that order, Number One. In case you haven't
noticed, I'm not even kidnapped yet. Therefore, I am in
charge of this ship!
Riker: Oh, that's right. Sorry, sir. I'll wait until you've
been kidnapped, and then I'll fire at the Borg ship, with
you in it!
Picard: Err..., right! What about the other ship, Data? Is it
the Romulans?
Data: Unknown, Captain. It's shaped like ... a shoe.
Picard: A shoe?
Riker: It must be the rumored Romulan Nike class. It's supposed
to run faster, jump farther, has better shields for shock
absorption, and a little pump on top that you can
squeeze. I read about it in this week's "Playbeing" ...
err, (avoiding the questioning gaze of Troi) only for the
articles, of course. It's supposed to be top secret.
Didn't you see it, Captain?
Picard: You mean that article on page 42, right after the
holoimages of Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted
whore of Eroticon Six? Of course not! Everyone knows
that I only read William Shakespeare and Oolon Colluphid.
Data, on screen.
On the screen, holoimages of Eccentrica Gallumbits of Eroticon
Six flash by. She is shown in a variety of rather creative poses.
Her three breasts hanging...
Picard: The Borg, Mr. Data!
Data: My apologies, sir. I thought you meant ...
Picard: Thank you, Mr. Data!
On the screen, we now see the Borg ship tractor-beaming a much
smaller, white, shoe-shaped ship. It's shields almost gone,
offering no resistance. Hushed disappointments fill the bridge.
Picard: (coughs) Worf, open a channel to the ... shoe.
Worf: Channel opened, sir.
Eddie: Hi there! I'm Eddie, the shipboard computer here at the
Heart of Gold, and I want to be your friend!
Picard: (standing up, straightening his uniform) I'm Jean-Luc
Picard, Captain of the USS Enterprise. I notice that you
are having some difficulties. Do you wish our
assistance.
Eddie: Well, hello, Jean-Luc! Oh yeah, I can definitely use an
extra hand over here. You see, I'm trying to make some
tea.
Riker: Tea?
Data: Tea. An ancient Earth beverage originated in Asia.
China, to be precise. It consists of dried leaves in
boiled water.
Eddie: Yep, just like your robot says! With milk.
Riker: Squirted out of a cow?
Data: Which, I believe, is an English tradition. By the way,
I am not a robot. I'm an android.
Wesley: (whispers) Contractions, Data!
Data: What? Oh, I mean, I am an android.
Picard: Well, that's all very nice. I am sure we can arrange for
some tea to be made. Right, Mr. LaForge?
Geordi: It will require redesigning the data structures of our
food synthesizers, reprogramming the holodeck to create
solid matters simulating Asiatic plant life, implementing
an error checking protocol that allows the two to
communicate in parallel, and creating a user-friendly,
menu-driven, icon-based graphics user interface with
mouse support and on-line, context-sensitive, hypertext
help. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll have it purring
like a Syranian monkey-cow in heat.
Picard: Make it so, Lieutenant. (turning to Eddie on the screen)
Actually, the difficulty I was referring to was the Borg
that is currently attacking you.
Eddie: Huh? What Borg? Hold on, let me allocate a couple
megajoules to my external sensors. (pause) Yikes! Hey,
guys, I'm being attacked! Hold on, I've got to tell some
people here about this. I'll get back to you in a sec.
[Insert 30 seconds of Nike Michael Jordon promo commercial here,
interrupted by an Energizer rabbit drumming in ... "Thump! Thump!
Thump! And it keeps going, and going, ..."]
Scene 2: Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Heart of Gold, Arthur,
Ford, Zaphod, and Trillian are staring at the rear viewer as if
they are being attacked by the Borg, which, as it happens, they
are. The ship continuous to rock continuously as it absorbs blows
upon blows of Borg's phasers. Marvin begins to whistle a new tune
that he had just made up...
Arthur: So, this is it. We're all going to die.
Ford: Over a cup of tea.
Trillian: With milk.
Marvin: Don't bother to ask me what tune I'm whistling, because
even if I tell you, you won't understand it. Here I am,
brain the size of a planet, reduced to entertaining
myself by making music. Music. Oh, how I hate music.
By the way, our shields can last another 23.2536 seconds,
in case anyone's wondering.
He paused for what he calculates to the nanosecond the amount
of time required for an average human being and an average
Betelgeusian to register in their pity cerebrums the destruction
time that he had just cited, then added another 1.2548 seconds to
compensate for this particular crew.
Marvin: I'm not getting you down at all, am I? Let's see
(looking under the control console)... where's Eddie's
plug? Maybe we can, like, pull it or something. I
thought you wanted excitement and adventure and really
wild things.
Zaphod: Shut up, Marvin. Zarquons, I need a drink!
Eddie: Hi guys! (coming back, he startled everyone on the Heart
of Gold. Zaphod bangs both of his heads under the
control console) Did someone say a drink? Come on, give
me a break! Here I am, being attacked by a Borg, whatever
that is, and first you asked me to make you some tea, and
now you want a drink??!! All right, what'll it be?
Zaphod: Some Gargle Blasters, you misaligned piece of Kronian
El-Cheapo Silicon! Now get us outta here!
Eddie: On the rock?
Zaphod: I said, GET US OUTTA HERE !!!!!!!
Eddie: Okay, okay. Gee, you don't have to take it so
personally. Now, where would you like to visit today.
I am programmed to take you...
Zaphod: ANYWHERE !!!!!!
Marvin: If I may be so bold as to interrupt, which I know is
pointless anyway as nobody ever listens to what I have to
say. Nobody ever cares about what I thinks, not that
it's anyone's fault. My intelligence is so
mind-bogglingly vast that nobody can even began to
understand what I am thinking. Anyway, I just like to
mention that we will all be dissipated into our composing
molecules in 5.2387 seconds, not that I'm counting. It's
being nice knowing you all...
Eddie: Anywhere? Hmmmm... well, can someone at least give me a
seed for the random number generator?
Zaphod lunges toward the control console, hitting a
combination of buttons and switches all at once. Suddenly, the
bridge begins to bend out of shape. Space and time warps on top of
itself and falls over. Traffic lights appear out of nowhere and
amuse themselves by handing out parking tickets.
The last decimal digit of pi shys away into a corner and hides
itself from mathematicians forever. This is two to the power of
six trillion, twenty seven million, four hundred forty three
thousand, eight hundred ninety three to one against.
Picard: Sqeeek!!
Wesley: Ahhhhhhhhhh!
Data: (turning to Wesley) Interesting. It appears that your
console has just turned into an IBM PCjr. (looking back
at his own console) And mine has just turned into a
Commodore VIC 20.
Meanwhile, Worf has turned into a Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of
Traal, and quickly devoured one of the nameless officers on the
back of the bridge, who, out of pure coincidence, happens to be
wearing a red uniform today. Just before he vanishes into the
fangs of Worf, however, a visual contact with the Bridge of the
Heart of Gold was suddenly established for a split second, for no
good reason other than that it's very very improbable. The rather
bewildered face of Arthur Dent flashed across the main viewer.
Interestingly, the only thought that crossed the unfortunate
officer's mind at that moment, upon seeing Arthur's face, was "Oh
no, not again!"
The other officers, in blue uniforms, never met Arthur in
their previous lives, and conversant with the creatures of the
galaxy, quickly covered their eyes with their Starfleet-issued
auto-inflatable towel-in-a-pip that they all wear on their collars.
Wesley: (calmed down, tentatively tapping his PCjr chicklet
keyboard) Sir, the computer says that it's tired of
opening, and closing, and opening, and closing, and
opening, and closing, all the doors on the Enterprise,
and that it's now setting course to Ursa Minor for a
long-deserved vacation, at maximum warp.
Picard: Sqeek sqeek, sqeeeeek sqek sqeek!
Troi: Captain, I am sensing a great deal of... confusion,
and... anger... from you. Are you feeling all right?
(battering her eyelashes seductively and sliding her
right leg along his furs) Is there anything I can do to
make you feel better?
Picard: Sqeek sqeeek sqeeeek!
Riker: (staring at Troi) Captain, perhaps I should get Dr.
Crusher?
Picard: Sqeek!
Troi: Oh, all right. Wesley, call your mother.
Moments later, Dr. Beverly Crusher arrived at the bridge
accompanied by five thousand Tribbles and a rather nasty Pogolarian
snow blizzard.
[commercial for Snuggles fabric softener... of course.]
Scene 4: Now, back to the Heart of Gold, the improbability level
is still high, but rapidly coming down.
Trillian: (relaxing on a bean bag, Romulan Ale in hand, the drink
rapidly eating through the mug that holds it) Well, the
probability factor has come down to only two to the power
of six million, two hundred thirty seven thousand, six
hundred and sixty to one against. Everyone should be
starting to feel better now.
Arthur: (hanging in mid-air, in a rather soapy bubble bath)
Whir... what's going on? Where am I? What happened?
(slight pause) I don't understand... isn't there any tea
to go with this bath?
Zaphod: (fighting off a pack of Algonian turbo-turtles) Shut up,
monkey brain, you and your tea almost got us killed.
Hey, I'm still missing one of my heads!
Eddie: Well, guys, how 'bout that! I sure got us outta that
Borg mess in a hurry, huh? Man! I sure feel like a song
right now. Let's see... any requests? It's request
time, gang, and all of my lines are open right now. If
there's anything that you'd like to hear, just ... mmm,
what the..., mmm, mmmmmm mmmm mmmm!
Zaphod: (just finishing up applying Stick-O-Tape over Eddie's
speakers) That oughta shut you up for a while.
Ford: (drawing himself up from the deck with great difficulty)
Wow, that was some hangover!
Trillian: That's no hangover. Eddie just kicked in the
improbability drive. Want some Romulan Ale? It'll make
you feel better.
Zaphod: Hey, give me some of that stuff.
Trillian: Well, we're down to probability level two to the power of
four thousand, six hundred eight to one against.
Everything will be normal in a few more seconds. (pause)
Where's Marvin? Marvin? (No answer.) Marvin, where are
you? (Still no answer.) Eddie, where's Marvin?
Eddie: mmmmm mmm mmmmmmm mmm-mmm mmmmm.
Trillian: Oh, brother.
Arthur: I think Marvin's missing.
An expression of deep genuine concern failed completely to
cross both of Zaphod's faces.
Zaphod: Oh, who cares about that heap of junk metal, anyway? All
he ever does is remind us how stupid that monkey-man is,
as if we need to be reminded. Asking the ship's computer
for a cup of tea when we're getting blown into bits ...
Trillian: Okay! We are now back to normal. But where are we?
Zaphod: Eddie, turn on the external cameras.
Eddie: mm mmm mmm mmm-mmm m mmm mmmm-mmmm-mm mm-mmm mmm mmmmm!
Zaphod: What's he saying?
Ford: I think he wants you to ungag him first.
Zaphod: Yeah, right. I'll just turn the cameras on myself!
Zaphod stumbles over to the console, examining it.
Zaphod: Hmmmm... anyone know what these buttons here do?
And, from outside the ship, a voice is heard ...
Voice: All right, open up! We know you're in there, and we've
got you surrounded!
Scene 5: On the Enterprise, everything is slowly returning to
normal. Continental plates are again forming on the forehead of
Worf. Picard is rapidly losing his hair and his shade of blue, and
Troi's third breast is fast melting away, much to her, and Riker's,
silent disappointments. Meanwhile, the Borg has left the sector in
a rather confused state of a collectively irrelevant whale
existence.
Worf: Burp.
Picard: Your report, Mr. Data.
Data: It appears that an improbability field was created by the
Heart of Gold, which caused the Borg to turn into the
sperm whale, and everything else that happened here on
the Enterprise as well. Including, sir, your existence
as a small blue...
Picard: Yes, yes, Data. And where is the Heart of Gold?
Worf: Sir, the Heart of Gold has materialized in Shuttle Bay
Three. Should I send over a security team?
Picard: Prisoners! Good, I've always wanted some. Worf, Data,
come with me. You have the bridge, Number One.
Worf and Data starts to follow Picard into the turbo-lift.
Picard: Prisoners... perhaps I will read them some of my favorite
Shakespearean performances.
Worf paused in his tracks like a waiter with five trays on
each arm suddenly stopped by a very merry and potentially
high-tipping grandmother holding out the fifty photographs of her
twenty grandchildren, and asking him, very nicely, if he would like
to see her pictures.
Worf: Shakespeare, sir?
Picard: Yes, Mr. Worf. William Shakespeare was a sixteenth
century Earth playwrite. One of the most talented ...
Worf: I am familiar with Shakespeare, sir. Permission to
remain on the bridge, sir, in case the Borg returns.
Picard: But Worf, I don't believe you've heard me do Anthony of
Julius Caesar before. (clears throat) Friends, Romans,
countrymen!
Worf: In fact, sir, I *have* heard you do Anthony of Julius
Caesar.
Picard: Oh. Well, come along anyway. Maybe I'll do one of
Hamlet's soliloquys.
Worf followed Picard and Data into the turbo-lift, first with
great hesitation, then with a re-newed sense of Klingon's enjoyment
for pain and suffering.
Worf: Yes, sir.
Data: I, sir, have always being intrigued by your fascination
with Shakespeare.
Picard: Ah, well. You see, Data, Shakespeare ...
The doors of the turbo-lift closed on them with a sigh of a
job well done. Worf took a deep breath, vastly expanding his
chest, and with great difficulty refrained himself from breaking
Data's rather stiff neck with a snap of his own rather stiff
fingers. Ah ... he sighed deeply to himself. This is going to be
even better than the Age of Ascension Ceremony that he went through
a couple staryears ago on the holodeck, courtesy of Data, Geordi,
and Wes. No fake and cowardly computer imageries this time. This,
he thought happily, is going to be real pain. commercials for ...
you guessed it! The Cybernetic Corporation's Happy Vertical People
Transporter with the newest, the expanded, and the vastly
improved... Genuine People Personality*! It will add a human touch
to _any_ starship! Order yours, today!
*For a limited time only, two backup personalities of your choice
are included free with a purchase of five or more personalities!
Ask a Cybernetic Corporation's dealer near you!
Scene 6: In Shuttle Bay Three, Picard, Data, Worf, and a team of
security personnels have surrounded the Heart of Gold.
Picard: All right, open up! We know you're in there, and we've
got you surrounded!
Worf: Permission to kick the door in, sir.
Picard: No, Lieutenant. We must act like civilized Starfleet
officers. (coughs) "In civility thou seem'st so empty",
Mr. Worf.
Data: Ah, Captain. _As You Like It_, Act Two. Spoken by, I
believe, Duke Senior.
Picard: You're quite correct, Mr. Data.
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.
Ford: So, how 'bout we break out some Blast-O-Zap's, and shoot
our ways 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!
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.