Web Site Number 9 Mistings Archive Shadows in the Mist By Melvin Pollack Date Completed: Jul 1997 Data Added/Modified: Jul 15, 1997 Rating: 7.68 (with 28 entries) *Rating* *Number* 1 | (0) 2 | (0) 3 | (0) 4 | (0) 5 | (0) 6 |******** (4) 7 |******************** (9) 8 |******************** (9) 9 |******** (4) 10 |**** (2) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Welcome to MiSTing number 3. The format is a little different from the usual MiSTing, but the subject matter is the same: another problematic post. Please send comments to me at mpollack@glue.umd.edu.] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Shot of shuttlecraft docking at ship.] Janeway: [Voiceover] Captain's log, Stardate 31465.4. We are currently in orbit around the planet Exodoorf, a planet with a high dilithium crystal concentration. We sent Paris and Neelix to speak with the leaders. However, they have returned with some surprising information. [Ready Room] Neelix: And do you know what the most surprising thing was? None of them spoke English. Chakotay: None of them? I find that hard to believe. Janeway: It definitely is out of character with the rest of the planets we've discovered. Mr Paris, did you.... Tuvok: [Communicator Voiceover]: Captain, we are getting a message from the planet. Janeway: Is is a communication from the leaders? Tuvok: Negative. It is a.... Fascinating. Captain, it is a text message that originated from Earth in the late 20th century. Janeway: On my way. [Show Opening Sequence and commercials for obviously unhumorous sitcoms.] [Bridge] Janeway: Report. Tuvok: The message is coming in on a radio signal commonly used in 20th century sattelite transmissions. Kim: Sir, we can view the message in the holodecks if we use the Tachyon Theater Text Converter. Janeway: When did we get that? Kim: Actually, I just made it up. Janeway: Good. Kim, Paris, Torres. Go see what the message is about. Tuvok: I would advise extreme caution. My studies indicate that the message is a fan - written story detailing a possible episode of a TV Series known as Star Trek. Janeway: A Star Trek fanfic? Chakotay: Red Alert. [Klaxons and Flashing Lights.] [10 seconds 'till Holodeck activation. 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...] >Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!ub!acsu.buffalo.edu!ubvmsb.cc. [Characters start walking in.] Torres: I don't understand why we have to watch this. Kim: There's a possibility that it might show a clue about how to get home. Torres: That's absolutely ridiculous. Paris: Yeah, but we're required to say that, anyway. >buffalo.edu!v130qh57 >From: v130qh57@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (sandra guzdek) Kim: Please tell us you didn't *choose* that e-mail address. Paris: Come visit Buffalo U. Torres: Oh, buffalo yourself. >Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Torres: And what the hell is a Star Trek? Paris: We'll explain later. >Subject: REPOST: Shadows in the MiST >Message-ID: Paris: We must Bsroy this post. >Date: 10 Aug 92 13:20:00 GMT >Sender: nntp@acsu.buffalo.edu >Organization: University at Buffalo Torres: I thought you were kidding about Buffalo University. Paris: So did I. Kim: Hey, not everyone can go to Starfleet Academy, you know. >Lines: 176 Kim: Oh, good. I need some more material for getting dates.... Torres: Not THAT kind of lines. >News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41 >Nntp-Posting-Host: ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu > >this was a silly little thing i worte Paris: At least she admits it. Kim: Bad capitalization and spelling. Not a good sign. > that attempted a crossover at... well, >why don't you just read it! Torres: Because we're smarter than that? Kim: We are reading it, sir. Torres: Comment withdrawn. > > + + + > sandra guzdek + username: v130qh57@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu + til 28 Aug 1992 Paris: Equals.... God, I hate linear algebra. > "Higher emotions are what separate us from the lower orders of life... > Higher emotions, and table manners." > --- Deanna Troi, _Imzadi_ Kim: She's a Jewish Grandmother? Torres: [checking Translater] Actually, Zayde means Gradfather. All: Oh, gross. > >SHaDowS iN tHe MiST by Sandra Guzdek May '92 Kim: Narrated by Jane Goodal. Paris: Spellchecked by Torgo the White. Torres: Who's Torgo? Paris: I'll explain later. >______________________________________________________________________________ > > All was quiet in Torres: the western front. > deep space as the mammoth galaxy class starship >cruised by at a healthy warp 4 speed. Kim: The mammoth galaxy class starship, while extinct since the last ice age, would frequently roam the earth at healthy speeds. Torres: As opposed to sick speeds. > The bridge was staffed by its normal, >familiar faces; Paris: The bodies were different. > the captain stood before the viewscreen in awe, once again, >of the beauty of the dark tapestry before him. Everything was calm... *too* >calm. The captain thought wryly that that alone was indicative of something big >about to happen. Kim: [Spock] Simple logic, captain. > He turned back to do some work in his ready room when the booming >voice of the security chief announced, "Captain, Paris: [Worf] I want you. Torres: Tom! Paris: To look at this message. Kim: Nice save. > sensors indicate that >there is a vessel of unknown origin adrift in space off the port bow Torres: Ar, maties. Lets hoist her away. >approximately 500 megameters away." > The captain smiled to himself. _Surprise, surprise._ Kim: Well, finding an unknown ship would be surprise 1. Paris: The fact that Picard can smile is surprise 2. > "Life signs?" he queried, as he turned on his heel for the command >chair. Torres: His lawyer fought to the death, but lost the chair in the end. > Data piped up, "None that we can detect." > As he pulled down on his uniform top, he commanded, "On screen." Kim: Can Data make a command like that? Paris: I think we had a pronoun change. Kim: Well, why wasn't I notified? > The screen seemed to change in star pattern only. Torres: What was that supposed to mean? Kim: Maybe the ship was cloaked. Torres: And they happened to find an unknown vessel without life forms that was cloaked. Paris: Why not? This is a Star Trek fanfic. > There was a >smallish shape in the lower right quadrant, which the captain ordered >enlarged. Kim: Shouldn't we make fun of that? Torres: Nah, too easy. Just let it go. > "What *is* it, sir?" the voice of Deanna Troi wondered almost >silently. Torres: What *is* it, man? Kim: It looks like a giant bone. Paris: That's not a bone. It's a space station. > "I'm not familiar with any ship of this kind. Paris: So it must not be important. > Mr. Data, analyze >its structure and theorize on its function." > The ship that had appeared on the screen looked as if it were >constructed of two stout cylinders fused together side by side, with two >faceted spheroids on each end. Paris: Oh, God. It was written by a geometry major. > Seams ran the length and breadth of it, Kim: Trying to break the record for the 100 megameter dash. >forming strange, intricate, triangular patterns. Here and there the hull >was broken up by portholes, and marred by scars of wear and tear. All in all, >the ship seemed centuries old and no longer very space-worthy. Torres: Hey, I figured it out. It's a Babylon 5 crossover. Kim: Really. Torres: Well, the space station looks kind of like the one on their show. Paris: I see. Torres: And the shadows were these aliens on B5 that fought with the Vorlons about how Earthlings should be raised, because they.... Boys: Fan girl! > "Captain, I can find no known match to the ship. However, it has no >propulsion systems, no weapons systems and little in the way of shielding. I >hypothesize it was ejected into space as space junk." Torres: All right, so I watch Babylon 5 once in a while. What's wrong with that? Paris: Just that you'd anger our Trekkie fan base? Torres: What are you talking about? What's a trekkie? > "The energy readings we're getting are too high for simple space >junk," Worf bellowed. Kim: It must be highly complex space junk. > "It's a miracle its still in one piece," commented Will Riker from >next to the counselor. Paris: [Televangelist] Yes, sir, this is a miracle! This space station is in one piece because it believed. Do you believe? > Deanna shook her head. "It's very unusual." > The captain sighed. "You're right, that *doesn't* make a lot of >sense. Paris: At least the AUthoR iS WilLiNG.... WHat'S HappEnINg to ME? > I want to know why. Number One, prepare an Away Team." Kim: Oh my God. Torres: We'd better get Paris to sickbay. > As he tapped >his communicator: "Dr. Crusher, report to Transporter Room Three with a >medical compliment. There may be some casualties to attend to." Torres: [hitting communicator] Torres to sickbay. Medical emergency. > The doctor's voice responded instantly, "Acknowledged." Doc: Acknowledged. Kim: Boy, that's some echo. Torres: Never mind that. Let's get out of here. >+++ [1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...] [Sickbay] Doc: Hhhmmm. Getting rid of the symptoms shouldn't be a problem. In fact, I could do it in my sleep. [Starts moving a flashing rod over Paris.] Kes: Don't worry, Tom. You'll be all right. Doctor.... Doctor? Doc: [Still waving the rod] Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Kes: DOCTOR! Doc: [Opens eyes.] See, you're all better. I told you I could do it. Paris: Thanks, Doc. Doc: I'm afraid the fix is only temporary. The symptoms will return.... Torres: What's wrong with him? Doc: I'm afraid that he is suffering from an affliction known as Torgo's White Syndrome. It's a reaction usually brought on by exposure to bad movies or Usenet posts. Kim: But why was Paris the only one infected? Paris: And why now? I mean, I've seen plenty of B Movies worse than this. Doc: I don't know. I only know that there is no cure as of yet. At some point, Paris will hit an advanced stage of Torgo's White Syndrome, and he will become completely incomprehensible. [Sounds of cheering as we break for commercial.] Torres: Is there any cure as of yet? Doc: No, despite two centuries of research. It may take me the rest of the hour to babble my way through a cure. Kim: Well, until that time.... Paris: Uh, can I skip the rest of this? I am a wounded man.... Torres: Sorry, guys. WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIGN! [6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...] > Comprised of Riker, Troi, Crusher and Geordi, the Away Team Paris: was jailed in 1977 for a crime they did not commit. Kim: After their escape, they became soldiers of fortune. Torres: If you need help, if there's no one else to turn to, and if you can find them, you may just want to call on.... someone else. All: [Start humming A-Team music.] >materialized inside the oddly damp and humid ship. All was dark save the >starlight. Torres: Save the starlight. Call our toll - free number.... > As Geordi looked around in a survey of the fair-sized room, the >others Paris: Looked around in a survey from Cosmopolitan. > squinted as their irises adjusted to the dimness. Instinctively, the >doctor pulled out a medical tricorder and held it before her. Kim: [Macbeth] Is this a tricorder I see before me? Come, let me clutch thee. > "Anything?" Riker asked of his Team in general. > At that moment, the lights whirred on. "I found the lights," announced >Geordi, who had flipped a switch on the wall up like the old-fashioned light >switches of centuries ago. Torres: Everybody got that? Boys: No. > They looked around to better see the place. Paris: Well, I suppose that NoT lOOking aroUnD Would.... Oh nO. NoT AgAin. Torres: Hold on! > The room was much smaller than the main bridge of the Enterprise, >and its triangular seams resembled those on the hull. Through the dirt, the >walls were a beige colour. Kim: Strip away the dirt, and the walls were deep blue. > There was a large window on the largest wall, Torres: Wouldn't the thing collapse if the walls were different sizes? > and >something that was probably a door opposite to that. There was also a >window to the stars outside on an adjacent wall. Paris: I'M NoT gOiNg to MakE It. > The room was unkempt, >apparent even after considering the age of the ship: in one corner sat a heap >of rubbish, including large-diameter plastic ribbed pipe, a flashlight of >twentieth century design, and... baby car-seats? A bubble gum machine? Torres: Oh, I get it. It's a Dadoist story? Kim: What's a Dadoist? Torres: First, you tell me what a Star Trek is. > "I'm not getting any life signs in this room," Beverly chirped, Kim: She's a bird. Torres: With a gift for mentioning the obvious. Paris: ShE's BettEr ThaN tUvoK. >interrupting the silence. Kim: [Perot] Will you stop interrupting? > Troi slid her hand along the console, and grimaced at the dirt that >had come off on her fingers. Torres: [Deanna] I *refuse* to study a wreck in such filth. Kim: Not the most emancipated female, is she? > She then took notice of the console. It was >simple in design, three large buttons of green, red and yellow. She wrinkled >her brow. "Geordi, I'm no engineer, but how could anything possibly run on >just three buttons?" Kim: [Geordi] It's called a mouse. Torres: [Same] In theory, a computer should run without ANY peripherals at all. Paris: I DoN'T fEEl sO goOd. > Geordi had just thought the same thing, how primitive and shoddy >the structure and design of this vessel was. Other than those three buttons, >there didn't appear to be any other controls. "You got me, Counselor." Kim and Torres: Babe, I got you babe. Paris: I'm FeelInG ReaLLy..... FJSILdkshohKJDSHI kdfsisiKDJKkjs. DjfdD! Torres: TOM! > Riker spoke up. "It seems to be a sattelite of some sort... though >we're light years from any systems or M-class planets. But even sattelites >have more controls than this." Kim: Even the sattelites that NO ONE was meant to live on. Torres: Hang on Tom. We'll get out of this. Torres to sickbay. Paris: SOFJUIidusaihaKJSljdfso! > Beverly had been scanning the walls. "I'm reading something behind >these doors. Some sort of energy source. I think we should get to it, see >if it's dangerous." She turned to face her companions. "The question is, how >do we open the doors?" Torres: And, at this amazing cliffhanger, we leave. [1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...] [Sickbay. Janeway, and Tuvok walk in.] Janeway: Report. Doc: I believe that I have something, captain. Paris' Enphorastery levels are extremely low, due to a virus from the planet. This has weakened Paris' immunity to the fanfic, resulting in Torgo's White Syndrome. Torres: That would explain why the fanfic hasn't affected us. Kim: So, is there a cure? Doc: There is now. Thanks to your intelligent, imaginative - and may I add extremely handsome - doctor, a cure has been developed. It involves bathing the patient in Joelrob and Mikenel radiation, while producing a shock to the system using an extremely inane theater sequence. Janeway: The other people may be infected by this. Can we give them the cure as well. Doc: Of course. Tuvok: I must point out, captain, that doing so would be a direct violation of the Prime Directive. Janeway: Do you really think that I care. Tuvok: No. However, I must point out my feelings that I deserve more lines than Neelix. Janeway: Understood. Doctor, begin the treatment. Doc: I must ask that I be alone with Paris for the treatment. Janeway: Very good. [All but Paris and Doc leave. Neelix enters.] Neelix: I understand that you wanted my help in curing a patient. Doc: Yes. While I shine the radiation on Paris, I would like you to sing. [Sound of Paris screaming as we break for commercial.] Neelix: How was that? Doc: Well it did produce more of a shock than I expected, and I did want you to sing "Ave Maria" and not "Hava Nagilla". However, it does seem to have worked as expected. Paris: [Is curled up in a ball and whimpering.] Torres: [enters] How is he? Doc: The treatment seems to be working well. However, full recovery requires that he be exposed to the same fanfic that brought on the disease. Torres: In that case, WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIGN! Paris: [more whimpering noises] [6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ] Kim: You all right, Tom? Paris: djsaihHFDJSAHYU idsahhgaHDSJHhsfh! Kim: Glad to hear it. > The foursome looked to the simplistic control panel, then to each >other. "It's got to be one of these buttons," Geordi said, voicing the >thoughts of everyone present. Torres: And in the future. > "But which one?" pondered Deanna. "Assuming one of those buttons is >for the door, what are the other two for? And how do we know that one of >the other two buttons isn't the cause for total abandonment of this >sattelite?" Kim: We can only hope. > "But there's still that tricorder reading," Beverly reminded kindly. >"We have to get to it, make sure it isn't a threat." Torres: Uh, if it's a threat, shouldn't they be trying not to encounter it? Kim: Maybe they've been taking lessons from our captain. Paris: [Groans and hides under his chair.] skgiUTEIWAkfdhas! > "So which will it be?" Geordi asked. Kim: Hang on, I'm still looking at the menu. > Fortunately, the matter was taken out of their hands when a surge Torres: soft drink came out of nowhere, and killed them all. All: Yay! >of power buzzed through the room: a red light began to flash, and what >sounded like an alarm klaxon began to ring. All three control buttons began >to flash. They looked to each other, as if to say, what did we do? Kim: Why did we deserve being in a fanfic like this? Torres: Sometimes bad things just happen to good people. > "It seems as if all systems -- scant as they are -- are back on >line," Geordi explained. Kim: Oh, they're using AOL. > A female voice, pleasant and not unlike the Enterprise's own >computer voice, announced that Kim: she would make Riker VERY happy. Torres: Sounded like. Not programmed like. > something was going to occur in ten >seconds; what that something was, they could not make sense of. > Panic seized the seasoned Starfleet officers. "What do we do?" Troi >wondered. Torres: All right, men. At the first sign of something unusual, panic. Kim: Sounds good to me. > "What did that voice say?" Riker queried. > "I don't know!" Troi said desperately. > "'Sign'. It said '*Something* sign'," Geordi commented. Torres: It's a sign! A sign! Kim: Going out of business. Paris: ksajjhHSADjfdksj..... BrOUght bACk the NeXT GenERation FOR tHIs. HEY, iT'S wORkIng. i'M gETTing BeTTeR. > "It isn't a threat, or else the Enterprise's sensors would have >told them and they'd have pulled us out of here..." Riker reminded. Torres: I wouldn't. > Calmly, Beverly reached over and pushed the red button. Kim: I thought they were all siezed by panic. Torres: Crusher can panic calmly. > The sound >and lights continued, but the door slid open. They all looked to her in >amazement. With a smile she said, "It was just a hunch." The noise died >down, and the light dimmed back to normal. Paris: AnD THen thE ShiP eXPloDeD. All: [Happy sigh at the thought.] > Riker's communicator buzzed. "Number One, is everything all right >down there?" It was the captain. Kim: What's the captain doing down there? > "Aye, sir. We've just discovered..." As Beverly cleared her throat >playfully, Riker corrected with a smile, "*Dr. Crusher's* just discovered how >to open the door. All: Wa, Wa, Wa, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! > We're going to investigate a high energy reading now." Torres: Any one in particular. > "Be careful, Number One. We don't know what's down there." > "Understood. Riker out." Kim: He's outta there! > The door had opened to reveal a long corridor of numbered doors which >were successively opening. Geordi said meekly, "This is getting wierder and >wierder." Paris: Yeah, that sums up my feeling, too. [Pause.] Hey, I'm all better! > Data materialized beside the four of them. "The captain thought I >might be of assistance down here." Paris: [Data] God knows why. > Deanna clapped her hand over her heart. "Oh, Data. You frightened >me." Torres: Heh, heh. Kill her. Kim: [Data] Fascinating. I have noticed that my appearances typically cause fear in other crewmembers as well. Perhaps I should look into this phenomenon. My working theory is that it is connected to my hairstyle. > They went down the long hall, tricorders alive and flashing. Paris: It's alive. IT'S ALIVE! Kim: To bad this fanfic isn't. >Riker's brow furrowed as he picked up what appeared to be the skeleton of a >small canine. It was red-orange, and certainly not organic. "Data, you >couldn't have showed up at a better time." Riker thrust the find at him. Torres: En garde. Prepare to die. >"What *is* this?" All: [monotone] It's an object that looks like the skeleton of a small canine. It was red-orange, and certainly not organic. > Data took it, turned it over in his hand. After a few moments of >analysis, he stated, Kim: I have no idea. > "It would appear that there is no known source for >this... thing, although it does highly resemble a Merconian shell beast." Paris: Or not. > He handed it to the two women, who in turn scrutinized it. > "Come on, let's go," Riker said, indicating the end of the hall. Torres: And hopefully of the fanfic as well. > At that moment he noticed Geordi fawning over a second find. Kim: Look, it's bambi. >"LaForge, what have you got there?" As Riker crouched down, he saw exactly >what it was. His grandmother had had one, and he remembered her using it, >a nostalgic grin on his face. "A... waffle iron?" Paris: Oh, the memories are flodding back. > They looked at each other. Geordi muttered, "Curiouser and curiouser." Torres: Everyone knows you aren't allowed to use waffle irons on a spaceship. Kim: Well, maybe the Mir. > Coming to the final door, a large round door like that of a bank vault, Paris: Show me the money. Kim: I guess it had to come sooner or later. >it opened to reveal a darkened room. On the wall directly before them there >was a mammoth screen upon which images were projected, Torres: Before the last ice age, the wooly mammoth screens... Oh, forget it. > and the room had rows of >seats. Beverly waved her tricorder around, and announced, "There's the energy >source." She pointed to the projection booth. > "This must be some sort of theater," Riker mused. All: You think? Paris: [Riker] I try to avoid it when possible. > Data spewed his usual two cents: Torres: Data, for the last time, stop spitting your weekly salary. Kim: You get what you pay for. Paris: Actually, two cents for Data is probably a rip off. > "It is a motion picture cinema, as >indicated by the pictures on the screen. Motion pictures became popular in the >early to mid-twentieth century, and though it has waned considerably, people >still enjoy it today as a form of entertainment." Torres: Unfortunately, this caused the movie industry to survive. Kim: Hence the need for Mystery Science Theater 6000: The Monkey Generation. > Beverly smiled, her eyes dreamy. "Yes, I've seen _Casablanca_, and >_The Wizard of Oz_." Torres: Let's kill her too. Paris: Interesting _underscores_. Kim: I didn't know John Winston was still alive. > Data looked to the screen, analyzing the actors and the dialogue. Torres: So let me get this straight. Despite all of the damage, and all the characters dying, the ship is still showing movies even though no one's been sending any more up there. Kim: That's about the gist of it. Torres: THAT'S SO STUPID! Paris: Belanna! Please! It's just a show.... Torres: I know. I should really just relax. Kim: Anyone who didn't see that coming should be shot. >His brow furrowed in its special android way. All: That thing you do.... > "It would seem that this >'movie', as they were called in the vernacular, is what is known as B >grade: obscure actors, thin plots, and cheap, flimsy sets." > Deanna laughed in spite of herself. "So what is a B-grade movie >cinema doing all the way out here in space?" Torres: Uh, the backstroke? > Riker turned to her and, looking very much like a mad scientist, >said, "Push the button, Troi." Paris: [Perv Riker] Yeah, Troi. Come push ALL my buttons. Kim: I think I liked Paris better when I couldn't understand him. > >______________________________________________________________________________ > > Copyright 1992 by Sandra Guzdek Torres: Who would want to copyright a story like this? > standard disclaimers about Paramount, and threats of death for plagiarism, > apply. Paris: If you copy this work, everyone will want you dead. > Kim: That's it? Torres: Looks like it. > Kim: After all we suffered through, that's it? What about action? Paris: What about a plot? Kim: What about character development? Paris: What about a theme? Torres: Did you want it to be longer? Boys: NO, NO! That's okay! Torres: Let's go. > [1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...] [Scene: Bridge. All main characters present. There is an alien on the viewscreen, the leader of the race.] Alien: My name is Cambotia, Lawgiver of the realm of Gypsyroslee. Thank you for saving my people. Janeway: I'm just sorry we couldn't help before. Do you know what caused it? Cambotia: It was horrible. The disease was planted by a group of people who wanted to break our spirit. With our defenses weakened, they showed us.... [Starts sobbing.] They showed us Ratliff fanfics! Tuvok: I believe these fiends should get the death penalty. Janeway: I thought I made it clear that no crime deserves the death penalty. Tuvok: Apparently, you have never read a Ratliff fanfic. Janeway: [To Cambotia] Don't worry, we'll find the people who did this to you. [Cambotia closes connection.] Janeway: So, how was the fanfic? [Torres, Paris and Kim groan.] Paris: You know what the worst part was? The fanfic claimed that MST3K would actually influence a show like Star Trek. Janeway: I seriously doubt that, Mr Paris. Set a course for home, Warp 6. Push the button. [Shot of Voyager going into warp.] Torres: Doesn't anyone want to tell me what a Star Trek is? [Credits and Commercials.] Mystery Science Theater 3000 and all characters are trademarks of and copyright (c) 1994 by Best Brains, inc. Best Brains have absolutely no idea about this post, so don't call them up and complain. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager, and all characters are trademarks of Paramount Pictures. They don't know about this post either. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks by Best Brains, inc., or Paramount Pictures, inc., is intended or should be inferred. This post is copyrighted (c) 1997 by Melvin Pollack. Use of this article or parts of this article for any purpose other than entertainment requires my express permission. This post is for entertainment purposes, and was not designed to insult any particular person or group. Any and all offensive remarks are completely accidental. To any people or groups that are offended, I sincerely apologize and wish to stress that the offense was not intentional. This post was unfortunately written without express knowledge of the author, who could not be reached. This is in no way meant as a slam against her, and no copyright infringement was intended. This post was written without causing pain to any animals. Void where prohibited. Post no bills. >this was a silly little thing i worte that attempted a crossover at... well, >why don't you just read it!