_____________ ____________ ____________ * / R \ */ \ */ \ * | E ______ | *\____ ____/ *| ________/ * | S |******| | ****| |*** *| F |******** * | I | *| | *| | *| U |____ * | S ~~~~~~~ / *| I | *| T \ * | T ____ \ *| S | *| I ____/ * | A |*** \ \ *| | *| L |*** * | N | * \ \ ___*| |____ *| E | * | C | * \ \/ \ *| | * \__E_/ * \___/______________/ *\____/ ***** **** ************** ***** RIF BBS (805) 588-9349 P.O. Box 81181 Bakersfield, CA 93308 subscriptions: ktaborn@bak2.lightspeed.net http://www.tamnet.interbusiness.it/htmlpages/adds/ borgpage/ shopslow.htm http://w ww.marshall.edu/~swann1/cborg2.html ftp://fvk ma.tu-graz.ac.at/pub/star-trek/rif THE OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE GALACTIC BORG CONSCIOUSNESS ISSUE NUMBER 58 NUR 153 B.E. (05-153) 5 Jun - 23 Jun 1996 ========= CONTENTS ========= FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: Borg Movie Parody THE BALLAD OF REGINALD BARCLAY STAR TREK II PARODY SCENE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR: ST: The Motionless Picture RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 21 A Planetary Shield Chapter 22 A Double-Cross STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 7. The Doors of Perception The Fine Print =============================== FROM THAT PESKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF =============================== I beg a thousand pardons for sending this off a day late! I am happy to announce that RIF intends to present a parody of Star Trek: Whatever It's Called These Days (ST 8, or ST: Generations 2). It's the one starring THE BORG! You know, the one coming out at Thanksgiving??? Leonard Richardson has informed me of his intention to write a parody of the the movie, just as soon as he sees it. Mr. Richardson's parodies were a regular feature of RIF a year ago. In my opinion, he consistently wrote the best work of continuous genre parodies I have ever seen. Hopefully, after rejoining us to write the ST:WICTD parody, he will be inspired to lend his craft at skewering Voyager and the mature Deep Space Nine, just like the good old days! I have received some correspondence from readers who have noticed my recent Xena fandom activities and are fearful of RIF's continued existence. It is true I am editing two Xena netzines currently, have started a Xena fan organization (International Association of Xena Studies), and am assisting with some Xena webpages construction, AND YES, these activities do take up a lot of my time. However, rest assured I intend to continue with RIF until the jokes stop coming. I originally thought they would stop around September 1992. Silly me. A new web page is in the works for RIF! It will allow on-line reading of all previous RIFs, plus other links for the discriminating RIF reader. A new series starts this month: CUTTING ROOM FLOOR. "Cutting Room Floor" memorializes scenes from the various incarnations of Star Trek which could have ended up on the cutting room floor had they been filmed. It is written by Steve Gordon (editorman@aol. com). --Oxnardus ============================== THE BALLAD OF REGINALD BARCLAY ============================== (to be sung to the tune of "The Ballad of Bonnie & Clyde") Reg-in-ald Barclay Had a strange addiction Seems he had some odd convictions 'Bout the holodeck His duties would suffer While he engaged in swordplay With the "Goddess of Empathy" at his call & beck One...fine...day The crew caught onto his schemes Only the fact that he saved the ship Kept them from destroying his dreams Next Mr. Bar...clay Became a supergenius Romancing with the counselor was an experience He transformed himself Into a human network server It was all to serve the goals of the Cytherians Then he went and found a new psychosis to en-ter-tain Thought evil worms were in the transporter, a botched experiment was to blame After he saved The scientists form wormhood The good Lieutenant Barclay was riding a power trip Until he let Moriarity out of prison So the villain could take over the ship! After...they...stopped him Barclay's hyp-o-condria Let loose a deadly virus which would bear his name After being a spider will he ever be the same? (Repeated sounds of phaser fire for 30 seconds) Reginald Barclay...had a lot of major freak outs Which eventually earned him...lots...of...fame!! ---David Nurenberg (skiold@aol.net) ========================= STAR TREK II PARODY SCENE ========================= Khan: Ah Chekov I remember you. Terrel: Chekov who is this guy? Chekov: I don't know keptin. I never seen him in my life. Khan: Yes you have? Chekov: No, the writers made a big mistake. Anyone who watched the episode which you were knows that. I was no where to be found. Khan: Are you calling me a liar? Chekov: I guess so. Khan: What about Captain Kirk? Terrel: Oh, Admiral Kirk is just fine. Khan: I'm sorry did you say Admiral.... so it begins... ---Mitch Holzman ================== CUTTING ROOM FLOOR ================== [Cutting Room Floor is a series memorializing scenes from the various incarnations of Star Trek which ended up on the cutting room floor.] Remember Star Trek: The Motionless Picture? ------------------------------------------- Captain's Log, stardate supplemental: We have penetrated the heart of the cloud known as V'jer, led by the robotic copy of our navigator, Lt. Illia. The probe threatens to destroy the earth unless it gets what it wants. But what does it want? "I believe I know," said Spock, studying intently the whine from his tricorder. "V'jer is looking for a date." "What????" said McCoy. "Consider, if you will, the following," said Spock. "V'jer has travelled the galaxy. It has seen and recorded sights and wonders that must be beyond our comprehension. But it's never had a date. Not even a one-night stand. V'jer is lonely, Captain." "So what do we do, fix it up on a blind date?" said McCoy. "And with what, our ship's computer?" "V'jer wants," said Illia, speaking for the first time. "V'jer wants... to date one of you." "One of us?" said Decker. Suddenly he gave a gleeful grin. "Captain Kirk, I think you're being paged." "Just one moment," said Kirk, holding out a hand. "Just what sort of date do you have in mind?" "We will be together," said Illia. "There will be a light, that will make your hair stand on end. Then you will be atomized, together, with me." Kirk cleared his throat diplomatically. "I'm afraid I'm a little old for that sort of thing. Hey, why not go for someone younger?" He turned to Decker. "Someone more gullible," added McCoy. "Someone more expendable," said Spock, pushing Decker forward. "Hey, wait!" said Decker. "Can't we talk about this?" The others started to push him forward. "Wait, wait, at least let's beam down some chocolates, some flowers, and do this right!" "V'jer does not need those," said Illia, as the lights started to form around them. "Come on, Decker, let us get on with this. There are at least three more probes waiting in line behind us to threaten your planet.".... --- Steve Gordon (editorman@aol.com) ============================== RESISTANCE: Chapters 21 and 22 ============================== Part 11 of 12 A Star Trek: Next Generation Serial Chapter Twenty-One: A Planetary Shield "Shields are down to 5 %, damage to primary hull on deck seven." Worf announced. "Evacuate deck seven!" Picard shouted. "Not necessary, Captain. They're still on the planet." "Can you ..." Picard was interrupted by his communicator. "LaForge to Enterprise. We have found a possible explanation for the failure. When we connected the Borg implants to Data, the subspace emitter was slightly damaged. We can't send anything to the Borg from here." "Could you affect them from aboard the Enterprise?" "That's likely, though I can't guarantee for anything." "We have to beam them up. Mr. Worf, if we lower the shields, the Borg can destroy us without any problems. Try to keep that time as short as possible." "I recommend we place that planet between their ship and ours. Even if the Borg wouldn't care about destroying a planet, it should provide efficient shielding." Worf suggested. "It would be a logical choice - I don't think the Borg would fire at the planet. They have no reason for that. In addition, maybe they need some time to find us while we're cloaked." Seron added. "Make it so." The Enterprise went around the planet at full impulse speed, then lowered the shields, and beamed the away team up. Immediately after the transporter chief reported their arrival, Picard ordered to raise the shields. Data was ready for a second try. Chapter Twenty-Two: A Double-Cross! Before Data could start accessing the link, Seron notified the others of a new reading on his sensors. The Enterprise was sending data - but the receiver could not be detected. Data looked at the readings. "Intriguing.", he said, "Whoever it is - the sender is accessing all data about Federation starships." "The Borg?" "They would not have a use for the data, Captain. They know everything about our ships, already." "That's true, but who else could it be?" No one answered, until Seron got a better sensor reading. "The sender is in Engineering." Worf assembled a security team and left for engineering, while Data started his attempt to manipulate the Borg ship. His head started turning around. "Accessing... Accessing..." Data started accessing the Borg collective, trying to find a leak in their security systems. Since Data's implants were from a Borg who used to be second of fifty-three before he became an individual, he should have access to most systems. "Accessing..." Picard's communicator chirped. "Worf to Captain Picard. We have found the sender." "Take him to arrest cell one for investigation." "That's not possible, Captain. It is a computer, and it's in the Romulans' cloaking device. That's why they left it to us." "Can you remove it?" "Negative. The Romulans have protected the device. When opened, it will explode, and fill engineering with deadly radiation." "We have one person aboard who can survive that radiation." LaForge said, looking at Data. "Mr. Seron, How long can we keep that planet between the Borg ship and the Enterprise?" "Given the current speed of the Borg ship, I think we can stay on the other side of the planet for 37 minutes." "Then we can prevent the Romulans from getting too much information." Picard said. "Terminate Data's link to the Borg ship." Picard was aware of the risk he took - but giving the Romulans all available informations about the Federation would be even more of a risk. TO BE CONTINUED.... ========================== STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY ========================== Season One. Episode Seven. "The Doors of Perception" Last time on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy: Riker turns on Door Repair Guy, eyes ablaze with anger. "You're working for the Borg! D****t, I think you are a Borg!" He points a phaser right at our hero and fires. Door Repair Guy hits his forearm just as the phased energy stream hits him. He disappears in a burst of light. +++ "Captain, the Battle Section has broken orbit. It's heading straight for the Dominus McGregor Nebula." +++ And now this week's exciting episode: A cargo bay somewhere in the Enterprise. To the left we see a stack of bright yellow plastic barrels. On the other side is a small mountain of oblong blue containers. Metal racks support an assortment of dark puce carrier pods. The camera moves along an aisle between the racks, then turns its attention down toward the floor. Spread-eagle between the storage racks, dressed in orange overalls, lies the Door Repair Guy. There is a large scorch mark in the middle of his chest. He groans, opens one eye, and then the other. He pulls himself up onto one elbow. He rubs his eye with the knuckles of one fist. "That's it. I'm on the wagon again." He rises to his feet, using a storage rack for support. He sways and staggers out toward the middle of the room. He puts one hand over his shoulder, grasps the other behind his back and turns around, stretching and surveying the room. When he disengages his grip we see the large scorch mark in the middle of his back. He trudges toward the big doors, which open as he approaches, and out into the corridor. The corridor is deserted. He wanders on and on through various camera angles without meeting another soul. At last he slumps against a computer panel and taps it. "Computer, where is everybody?" *There is nobody on board the Enterprise* "YATI. Then who are you talking to?" *I am talking to myself* "Smart-a**." He moves away, but does a slow double-take and returns to inspect his reflection. He examines his chest, and then looking over his shoulder, his back. He leans against the wall and then slides into a seated position. He stares blankly toward the floor. "I'm dead." After a moment a low thumping rhythm becomes audible. Door Repair Guy pricks up his ears. He gets up and follows the sound around a corner. It is noticeably louder. He pursues it around another bend and finds it louder still. At last he comes to the door from which the sound is clearly emanating. He keys in his door repair override and the door opens. The room inside is crowded with people. Everyone is talking, or rather, shouting. The lighting is low, except for banks of flashing red, blue, and green lights. Music booms. Boogie nights! Ain't no doubt, we are here to party. Boogie nights! Come on out, got to get it started. Dance with the boogie, get down, 'Cause boogie nights are always the best in town. "And gone to heaven!" He struts in and the doors close behind him. "Crawlspace: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Door Repair Guy. His mission: to install and maintain proximity- activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new service conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has gone before." [Music] Star Trek: Door Repair Guy Whoosh! (the Saucer Section mounted on a Borg Cube) Starring Door Repair Guy as Himself Whoosh! (the Battle Section) Also Starring Patrick Stewart as Captain Jean-Luc Picard Whoosh! (Saucer Section/Borg Cube again) Jonathan Frakes as Cmdr. William Riker Michael Dorn as Lt. Worf LeVar Burton as Lt. Cmdr. Geordi LaForge Gates McFadden as Doctor Beverly Crusher Marina Sirtis as Counsellor Deanna Troi and Brent Spiner as Lt. Cmdr. Data The Battle Section looms into view, zigs, zags, and warps away in a burst of light. +++++ [Commercial: Pepsi. Shaq tears the gate off a chain-link fence, bends the basket down and scores, and goes looking for a Pepsi. Etc., etc.] +++++ Around the darkened hall a convection current of figures flow and eddy, pushing and squeezing past one another, and greeting each other in loud, beery voices. They bump and push and even dress a bit like the inhabitants of the overpopulated planet in the third season Star Trek episode "The Mark of Gideon", except that they're glad to be there and paid a cover charge. Out of this crowd steps Door Repair Guy with a plastic cup of beer in each hand. He is working through a problem in his mind. "Trans Am or Firebird?" He chugs down one of his beers and puts the empty up-side- down on his head. Then he stands there with his arms crossed, taking occasional gulps from the other cup, eyeing the dancers in the middle of the floor and getting into the tunes. Ooo. Ooo. Ooo. You might not ever get rich, But let me tell you it's better than diggin' a ditch. There ain't no tellin' who you might meet: A movie star or maybe even an Indian chief. Workin' at the car wash, Workin' at the car wash, yeah . . . . Wesley Crusher staggers up to him and stands there, swaying and grinning happily. "I am *so* drunk." He disappears into the milieu. DRG frowns and rubs his chin, trying to work out the meaning of this guest appearance. His attention is distracted by a serious babe who squeezes past just below his nose. "Mmm. Granny Smith Apple shampoo." DRG surveys the room with a seasoned eye. At the middle of the floor dancers bump and hustle. He rapidly tallies eighty- seven serious babes, forty-nine potential rivals and twenty-two jealous boyfriends. I want to rock and roll all night And party every day! "All right, Kiss." He glances off to one side and jumps so that beer slops over his beer-holding hand. Gene Simmons is standing over against the wall, in full war paint, leather and Japanese topknot, glaring back at him. As DRG stands gawking, Simmons raises a leather- gloved fist and points an index finger at him, saying, unmistakably, despite the volume of sound in the room, "I want you." As Door Repair Guy sinks back into the crowd, Simmons tilts his head and extrudes a six-inch tongue. Door Repair Guy retreats to the opposite side of the room. He stands against the wall, beginning to panic. "This is getting we-e-e-ird." Fingers close on his left and right biceps. "Yikes! Oh." Two serious babes with blow-dried blonde hair have him. They look into his face with worried eyes. One of them speaks. "I am Anni. This is Britt. We are Swedes. Our sauna is broken. Can you fix it?" His nervousness decreases with each bat of the blonde eyelashes. He looks from one to the other, feeling happier and happier. "I can fix it." They jump for joy and draw him through the crowd and out a door at the back of the hall. Across the room Gene Simmons and Wesley Crusher exchange a knowing glance. +++++ [Commercial: Blinds of All Kinds. Shaq tears through the Venetians in search of a Pepsi.] +++++ A corridor in the Enterprise. Anni and Britt walk into the shot, drawing Door Repair Guy along by the hand. They stop at a large cargo bay door. DRG: "This job would go a lot quicker if I had my toolbox." Anni turns and taps the door control. The doors slide apart, revealing a wooden coatroom. Coats and hats hang from pegs. Sweaters and mitts lie heaped on a deacon's bench. On the floor among several pairs of boots rests DRG's toolbox. Britt hands DRG a hunting jacket. "You must dress up warmly. In Sweden is winter now." "Ok-a-a-y," says he guardedly, shrugging on the jacket. Anni opens the far door and beckons. She steps down into a snowy landscape. Britt follows. DRG hoists his toolbox and follows. Cross-country skis lean against the outside of the wooden building. Anni and Britt take them down and deftly fit them on their boots. "Oh, man," says Door Repair Guy, the point gradually sinking in. "I never skied." "You must have," says Anni. "Well, once. For a minute." "Ah," says Britt, as if that explains something. She attaches a harness around her waist. Anni hooks it to a small sled. "Put your toolbox on this." He complies, and then fumbles around with the skis until he has them reasonably on. They start off over the hills and dales of rural Sweden. The two Swedes have obviously been skiing since age two, but Britt is a little slowed down by the toolbox on the sled, and Anni stops every few minutes to deliver the next part of a running travelogue. DRG struggles along thinking that this is not how he had planned to develop various muscular aches and pains. At the crest of a particularly challenging hill he shouts, "Couldn't we just stop and have a snowball fight or something?" Anni turns and regards him. "You are not a very serious man. Come. Here is our chalet." They reach the chalet, stick their skis in a snowbank, and tromp up the steps. Anni and Britt run inside. "So where's the sauna?" "The sauna is up the hill!" "Up the hill." They go out the back way. DRG sees a snow-covered path winding away between the conifers. "Well, here we go again," he says, hoisting the toolbox once more. "Only you," says Anni, matter-of-factly. "Huh?" "Please accept the thanks of our people," says Britt. "Uh, yeah." He trudges away up the path, pausing once to look back. Anni and Britt wave. He climbs on. In a short while a small wooden building comes into sight, nestled into the slope of the hill. Smoke curls from a chimney. He gets to the door and gives it a yank. It resists. He examines the latch. Nothing wrong there. He looks at the hinges. Rust. He fishes out a can of oil and squirts it all over the hinges, yanking the door back and forth until it begins to cooperate and stops squeaking like a banshee. Satisfied at last, he ducks down and steps inside, pulling the door to behind him. The room is warm, steamy and dark. It takes several moments for his eyes to adjust. Gradually the idea grows on him that he is not alone. He jumps into a fighting posture with a wrench in one hand. "Show yourself!" he shouts at the far corner. A fierce familiar face appears in the dim glow above the hot stones. "nuqneH!" "Krell!" +++++ [Commercial: A bedroom. A man in pajamas is tossing and turning. At last he can't take any more, and he sits up, exclaiming, "This itching is driving me crazy!" There is a clatter at the French doors. The curtains part. Shaq bursts in, crying, "A Pepsi! Somebody find me a Pepsi!"] +++++ A shot of Door Repair Guy and the old Klingon facing off over the red glowing stones. Gradually Krell's scowl transforms itself into a snarly smile and he begins to shake with laughter. DRG: "DaH SwIyDenDaq lenglIj wa'DIch Dachav'a'. (Subtitles: "Is this your first trip to Sweden?") Krell: "nuqDaq." ("Where?") Krell goes to the door and kicks it open. The landscape outside the door is indisputably not Swedish. Krell: "DopwIjDaq yIqet." ("Run at my side.") He starts off down the slope. DRG swears, grabs his toolbox, and chases after him. They are at the bottom of the hill before he catches up. Krell: "quSmey tun law' ghaj 'ejyo'." ("Starfleet has many soft chairs.") DRG thrusts out his jaw and hits his Borg transport implant. He rematerializes 100 metres further down the road. "'ach Dochmey Sar lI'." ("But various useful things.") Krell starts back in surprise, then laughs uproariously. "majQa'. 'ach lurghvam vIghoS." ("Excellent! But I'm going this way.") He starts off over the next hill. DRG swears and chases after him. They run and run through the Klingon landscape, Krell occasionally grabbing a branch so that it will snap back just as DRG is coming by. Klingons are very competitive runners. At last they come to the rim of a bowl valley. "yItu'." ("Observe.") DRG recognizes, far below, the fortified hilltop town of QoliqoS, ancestral seat of the DIrpoQ clan. As he leans out over the precipice Krell grabs him by the scruff of the neck and closes an iron grip around his forearm. "Yikes!" They rematerialize before the doorway of the fortified town. Krell: "majQa'. lan DabuS 'ej pa' bIghoS." ("Excellent. You think about a place and you go there.") DRG: "bIlugh. SeS." ("You are correct. Sheesh!" [or "Steam!"]) Krell: "QoliqoS lojmIt'a' 'oH. vatlhmey law' ben botwI' chenlu'ta'. nov Sov lo'pu'. 'oH poSqangmoH DIrpoQ joH chu' 'ach chay' Sovbe' ghaH. moghchugh ghaH vaj Qaw'moHlu' ghaH. Daq tIQ lo'laH 'oH. DapoSmoHqu'. ("This is the Great Gate of QoliqoS. The lock was built many centuries ago, using alien technology. The new Lord of DIrpoQ does not know how to open it. If he becomes frustrated he will have it destroyed. It is a heritage site. You must open it.") Door Repair Guy tilts back his baseball cap and walks up to the door. It is built from massive timbers, with large metal bands and rivets. The wood is scored and crisscrossed with the marks of generations of Klingons who wanted in. The lock is a huge piece of forged metal. A tricorder scan reveals a sophisticated zinc-titanium alloy in which various circuits of obscure origin are embedded. DRG scratches his scalp. He rattles the door handle. He rises half an inch. He releases the handle and bumps down again. He grasps the handle again and rises again. He walks over to Krell. "'evnagh cham lo' lojmItvam. laSvarghlIjDaq luch 'ut Daghaj. vItagh." ("This door operates with subspace technology. You have the necessary equipment in your factory. I'll hot-wire it.") Krell hooks his thumbs into his belt and nods his head with satisfaction. "majQa'." DRG fishes a length of copper wire out of his toolbox and wraps one end of it around the door handle. He clamps the other end in his teeth and hits his transport activator. He rematerializes ten feet away, just beyond the range of the swinging door. Through the doorway is a corridor in the Enterprise. Red alert sirens are wailing. Crewmembers dash by. Picard stops in the middle of the opening and hits his commbadge. "Number One! Stand by to abandon ship! Where the h*** is that Door Repair Guy?" +++++ [Commercial: A fast food joint. Two little old ladies come forward and are handed a tray with two hamburgers. One of them takes the tray but the other one lifts up the bun of one of the hamburgers and scrutinizes the minuscule meat patty. "Where's the beef?" Shaq wanders through the shot. "Where's the Pepsi?"] [Bob: "Whoa! Great episode. You can really see why they always hire a Shakespearean actor for the main role." "A lot of you have been phoning the station about those satellites, you know, the Anik E satellites that went . . . well they both went haywire this week and threw a lot of broadcasters for a loop. By the way, if any of our viewers in the Chalk River area are getting this, our technical guys are hard at work." Black and white clip of Marty Feldman as Igor in "Young Frankenstein" flying a kite from the turret of Doctor Frankenstein's castle in a thunderstorm. "As you know, the Anik E1 has been recovered and is working again. But! This just in. Actual live footage of Anik E2, as recorded by the Hubble Space Telescope. Have we got that?" Clip of V'ger from "Star Trek: The Motion Picture" complete with BOING sound effect from sound track. "There you have it. Actual live footage . . . of the Anik E2 satellite . . . as recorded by the . . . ah, Hubble Space Telescope." He trains his attention on the prop television.] +++++ Door Repair Guy steps through the gate into the middle of the red alert. He is buffeted by running crewmembers. Riker spots him. "Door Repair! Shuttlebay One! Move! Move! Move!" DRG boots it down the corridor. He rounds a corner into the crowded approach to the shuttlebay. An evacuation officer is parked by the half-opened entrance, shouting, "Out! Out! Out!" She spots DRG and shouts, "In!" He pushes through the entrance and finds himself on the shuttlebay deck. Sirens hoot. Emergency crews in radiation suits haul fire equipment. The main shuttlebay door is halfway open. DRG comes around a parked shuttlecraft and sees the cause of the emergency: a shuttlecraft hangs half in, and half out of the shuttlebay. Somehow the doors have descended and trapped the craft as it made its final approach. One of the shuttle engines is crumpled and venting coolant into space. A transporter effect shimmers inside the shuttle as the crew is beamed out. La Forge grabs DRG by the shoulders and shouts in his ear. "We gotta get that shuttle outta here before she blows. Then we gotta get that door closed or the backwash from the antimatter explosion will clean out this whole deck." DRG tears the cover off a manual override panel. He punches the red emergency button and steps back to look. Nothing. He dashes to the door track and inspects it rapidly. "It's seized up!" A shuttle looms up outside the shuttlebay, tilting and manoeuvring. It fixes a blue tractor beam on the protruding portion of the trapped shuttlecraft. DRG yanks open an emergency storage nook beside the door and draws out a twenty pound sledgehammer. He takes up a stance beside the jammed track, one foot planted forward and one back so that he is standing perpendicular to the door. He places the sledgehammer next to his back foot. He leans to the side, takes a firm grip, and hoists the sledgehammer in a wide rising arc. The hammerhead arcs high above DRG's and strikes the shuttlebay door with a resounding boom. The door wobbles visibly and the stuck shuttlecraft scrapes noisily across the launch platform, drawn by the tractor beam. Every heart stops as the shuttle scrapes and jiggles slowly out into space. Suddenly it is gone and the doors resume their interrupted descent. A cheer goes up and Door Repair Guy removes his baseball cap and raises it in recognition of the tribute. The huge door slides down and down and stops abruptly, two inches from the deck. Door Repair Guy turns and looks down at the toe of his work boot caught under the weight of the largest door in Starfleet. +++++ [Commercial: A pizza delivery Volkswagen. Two guys. The radio says, "Forget about that last delivery, guys." "All right!" They start to dig into the cancelled pizza. "What do want, Coke or Pepsi?" "What's the diff?" Close Encounters lighting effects. The Volkswagen begins to sway up into the sky. Suddenly Shaq breaks from the bushes. He leaps and grabs the fender. The car disappears up into the flying saucer with Shaq dangling below, shouting: "Pepsi! Pepsi!"] +++++ Shot of DRG looking down at his trapped toe. La Forge grabs him by the arm and shouts: "We gotta get that door closed now!" Riker appears at his other arm. "How can you stand that?" DRG: "Steel toes." Picard appears. "Crewman, use your personal Borg transporter implant to beam out. Do it now." Door Repair Guy pulls himself up to his full height, picks up the sledgehammer and says: "No." Various expressions of outraged authority pass over the faces of Picard, Riker and La Forge. "None of this adds up. You're all sigmunds of the imagination." Picard, Riker, La Forge, the emergency crew, the parked shuttlecraft, the shuttlebay disappear one after the other. The dance hall reappears, deserted and strewn with empty blue plastic beer cups. Gene Simmons appears and approaches him. "When did you figure it out?" "Right at the beginning. I just went along for the ride. I figured the alternative was being dead, so I went along with it." Gene Simmons transmogrifies into Anni. "You served us well," she reports. "It was completely a matter of chance that we came across you. Your transport just at the moment of receiving a phased energy blast created a highly singular subspace signature. Once we sampled your mental inventory via your Borg subspace relays, we knew we had just the right man." "You live entirely on a subspace level, don't you." Anni turns into the Klingon Krell. "Yes. We travel via certain subspace gateways, many of them established by alien predecessors." Krell becomes Picard. "Occasionally we become trapped in what you might call a cul-de-sac, a dead end. Then we need a door repair guy." "And whenever I activated my Borg transport implant I issued the sort of subspace command that allowed you to work your way out of the dead end." "Yes. But the job is not quite finished. We need one more burst." "And what's in it for me?" "Mmm. We'll see what we can arrange." Door Repair Guy looks down at his arm. He presses the transport control. The screen whites out. A cargo bay somewhere in the Enterprise. To the left we see a stack of bright yellow plastic barrels. On the other side is a small mountain of oblong blue containers. Metal racks support an assortment of dark puce carrier pods. The camera moves along an aisle between the racks, then turns its attention down toward the floor. Spread-eagle between the storage racks, dressed in orange overalls, lies the Door Repair Guy. There is a large scorch mark in the middle of his chest. The cargo bay doors open. Voices and footsteps approach. A hypospray is pressed against Door Repair Guy's neck. He opens one eye, then the other, then both. He sees, bending above him, the shapes of Doctor Selar and the security guard Ursula. "Will he make it?" "These are highly unusual readings for a human." "Riker did this. Oh, where will it end?" "Crewman, can you speak?" "Yup." "Come on. Let's get him up and into the first aid station." They lift him up and haul him towards the door. "It was all a dream," he mutters, but then his eyes fall on the twenty pound sledgehammer leaning by the door. "Or was it?!" [Music. Credits.] ---Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca) =============== UPCOMING IN RIF =============== LIGHTBULB JOKES STAR TREK VI: THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY CUTTING ROOM FLOOR: TNG: Wesley in Love, Part 1 STAR TREK: DOOR REPAIR GUY: 8. Natural Selection RESISTANCE: A TNG Serial: Chapter 23 A Tragedy Chapter 24 Tying Up Loose Ends ============== THE FINE PRINT ============== TRYING TO LOCATE A COPY OF RIF???? WORLD WIDE WEB/FTP: http://www.tamnet.interbusiness.it/ htmlpages/adds/borgpage/shopslow.htm; http://www.marshall.edu/ ~swann1/cborg2.html; ftp://fvkma.tu-graz.ac.at/pub/star-trek/rif INTERNET EMAIL: Request free subscription: send "subscribe RIF" to ktaborn@bak2. lightspeed.net. 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Banner graphic by Marian Pappaceno. Resistance is Futile. Copyright (c) 1996 by Kym Masera Taborn. SOLICITATIONS FOR NEXT NEWSLETTER The next Resistance is Futile (#59) will be released on or about June 24, 1996. Send submissions to Oxnardus at the addresses notated below for consideration for a future issue. "RIF" is a non-profit fan publication. The editors retain editorial control and reprint privileges over the submitted materials and reserve the right to use the material in whatever way they deem appropriate. Submitted materials will not be returned to the sender. Editor-in-Chief: Oxnardus of Borg Resistance is Futile BBS (805) 588-9349: Oxnardus Internet: ktaborn@bak2.lightspeed.net WEB SITE: http://www.tamnet.interbusiness.it/htmlpages/adds/ borgpage/shopslow.htm; http://www.marshall.edu/~swann1/cborg2.html ftp site: ftp://fvkma.tu-graz.ac.at/pub/star-trek/rif Prodigy: HCMH17A US Mail: RIF BBS, P.O. Box 81181, Bakersfield, CA 93308 >>>>> Have you heard? 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