From: mickey@bach.udel.edu (Mickey McCarter)
>Newsgroups: alt.fan.douglas-adams
Subject: HHG to ST:TNG (Scenes 1 and 2)
Date: 30 Mar 92 04:25:55 GMT
Organization: University of Delaware



                  T h e    H i t c h h i k e r ' s    G u i d e

                                       to


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                    T h e    N e x t    G e n e r a t i o n

                              [ Don't  Panic! ]


                                     by
                         David T Lu and Mickey McCarter

      (with sincere apologies to Douglas Adams and all Star Trek writers)



				September 21, 1990


This parody is written by David T Lu and Mickey McCarter, and hereby
granted to the Public Domain.  All duplications of this parody is
completely legal as long as such duplications are made within the
United Federation Space, that this notice be included with all
duplications, and each duplication is made with a donation of
fifty (50) Altarian Dollars, at the current inter-galactic money
market exchange rate, to Save the Dolphins Foundation, in care of:

				David T Lu, Amateur Thinker
				lulu@ucrmath.ucr.edu.earth.sol.zero.milky
				  -or-
				Mickey McCarter, Potential President
				mickey@brahms.udel.edu.earth.sol.zero.milky



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?

Zaphod	: Hey, guys, lighten up!  I'm sure we can think of something!
	  Let's see (looking under the control console) ... where's
	  Eddie's plug?  Maybe we can, like, pull it or something.

Marvin	: 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 rocks?

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
	  _begin_ 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.

It starts to rain "We are the World" albums.



What will happen to our beloved Enterprise?  Will they be able to stop
the Borg?  What about the Heart of Gold?  Will it survive the Borg's
phasers?  Does Arthur still have his pocket fluff?  Is anyone carrying
a towel?  Finally, the question that has been burning in our hearts since
the beginning of time ... will Arthur finally be able to get his cup of
tea?  With milk?  For the answers to these, and many other, totally
irrelevant questions, stay tuned for the next exciting episode of ...

	The Hitchhiker's Guide to Star Trek: The Next Generation!


-- 
This exciting commentary has been brought to you by mickey@brahms.udel.edu...
For further information, stay tuned to this very newsgroup around this time.
"How can you make a world for people to live in unless you first put order
in yourself?" - George Antrobus (Thorton Wilder's _The Skin of Our Teeth_)


Article 3526 of alt.fan.douglas-adams: