From: mickey@bach.udel.edu (Mickey McCarter)
>Newsgroups: alt.fan.douglas-adams
Subject: HHG to ST:TNG (Scenes 13 and 14)
Date: 30 Mar 92 04:30:20 GMT
Organization: University of Delaware


SCENE 13: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy notes that one of the
	  Klingon's many expertise is their skill at skeletal and
	  organ remodeling---one of the most tricky of all modern
	  medical specialties.  The Klingons are so skilled, in fact,
	  that with proper coercing, they will even lend out their
	  services for free.

	  The Guide goes on to explain that the best way to coerce
	  such services out of a Klingon is to simply tell the Klingon
	  that he is, in fact, a very nice person.

	  Interestingly, Ford Prefect was able to coerce such services
	  out of a Klingon without any provocation.  Showing, once again,
	  that reality is terribly mistaken and wildly inaccurate and
	  that only The Guide is indeed the true source of all universal
	  knowledge and wisdom.

With a single hand, Worf lifts Ford high above the head, spins him around
a number of revolutions, and then lightly flicks him off with a twist of
his wrist.  Ford lands a few meters away like a sack of potatoes.

Ford	: Omph.  ARTHUR!!

Arthur	: Err ...

Worf pounces on Ford and slaps him against the hull of the Heart of Gold.

Ford	: Ouch!  Say, Arthur ...

Worf grabs Ford and bounces him against the door to the shuttle bay.

Arthur	: Ford, are you trying to tell me something?

Worf jumps on and begins choking Ford by lightly pressing his left pinky
against Ford's throat.

Ford	: Arthur!  Ggggg-ack-get...

Arthur	: Hmmm?  What was that Ford?  I can't really distinguish what it
	  is that you are saying due to the ... err ... difficulties you
	  seem to be suffocating ... I mean suffering.

Worf begins to skillfully bounce Ford on his legs, feet, and head in such a
fashion that would've caused a hundred British soccer fans to break out of an
Italian jail, ransack a few neighboring pubs, and launch a few ICBM's as well.

Ford	: (mouth jibbering) Sssatcheerrrk!

Arthur	: Ah, I see!  Am I correct in deducing that you are requesting my
	  help with your current ... (he pauses in search for the right
	  word) ... engagement, and that you would like me to, ummm, pass
	  you your satchel?

Ford frantically nods his head as Worf slides his face along the wall.

Arthur	: Well,...I'll just go over there, and, uhm, get the satchel, then ...

Worf grabs Ford and wipes the floor with him (literally).  Arthur scurries
past them and gets the satchel.  He quickly opens it and examines the contents.

Arthur	: Let's see, the Sub-Etha Sens-O-Matic and signaling device, some
	  peanuts, twenty pounds, some rather compromising pictures of a
	  brunette I once saw you dating, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the
	  Galaxy, an improbable number of credit cards, and a towel.

Ford	: (flying into another wall)  The towel!  Give me the towel!

Worf starts toward Ford again.

Arthur	: (tossing Ford the towel)  Ford, I really don't think that this
	  is the appropriate time for bath apparel.  I fail to see what ...

Arthur is cut short by a savage snarl from Worf, who leaps by Arthur a
bit too close for comfort.  Arthur snaps the satchel shut and retreats
to the Heart of Gold.  While he is retreating, however, he manages to
trip over his own feet.  Just when Arthur should be about to hit the
ground, he catches a glimpse of the rather distracting sight of Ford
Prefect dancing with his towel.

This, of course, causes Arthur to completely miss the ground.

Arthur bobbed in the air as Worf attacked Ford yet again.  Ford jumped
to the side and, holding on to the two opposite edges of his towel,
binds it around Worf's head and then leaps onto his back.  With one
swift motion and a rather un-nerving growl, Worf throws Ford over his
shoulders and narrowly missing the wobbily floating Arthur Dent.  Arthur
bobbed slightly higher as Worf leaps under him after Ford.  Luckily for
Arthur, the law of physics is too busy concentrating on the Klingon
suddenly slamming into Ford Prefect's chest to notice him resting at his
somewhat unusual altitude.

Ford quickly wraps the towel around Worf's throat, and shuts it tight.
Worf stands up unhurriedly and, with another Enterprise-shattering growl,
rips the towel away from his neck.  Holding Ford by his cuff, Worf shook
and shook until Ford thought he's seeing five Eccentrica Gallumbits strip-
teasing in the background.

While Ford and Worf continue to struggle, or, more accurately, while Worf
continues to shook and Ford continues to wriggle, Arthur has gotten the
hang of this flying stuff once again.  He floats over to Worf and gives
him a swift kick on the back of the head.  Worf collapses noiselessly to
the ground; Ford and his towel land rather awkwardly underneath him.

Ford	: (panting) Good work, Arthur.  Rather brilliant of you ... to 
	  decide to fly ...

Arthur	: Ahem.  Thank you, Ford, but I ...

Ford	: Now, how 'bout help me get out (cough) from this Klingon mess ...

Meanwhile Trillian, with the help of Eddie, has brought sanity (or insanity,
depends on one's private View of Things) back to Zaphod, who is now standing
in the Heart of Gold and beaming out brightly at the ensemble in the Shuttle
Bay.  Trillian stands a little behind him.

Zaphod	: (giving out a little laugh)  Hi guys, what's beating you?

Startled, Arthur twirled around to face Zaphod, slightly losing his balance.

Trillian: My God, Arthur, you can't possibly be flying!

Now freed from the myriad of exercises that Worf had been giving it the
last five minutes or so, The law of physics suddenly glances sharply at
Arthur, demanding to know what in the universe he thinks he's doing up
there, and suddenly the ground greets Arthur's jaw with the sort of smug
self-righteousness you would expect from the ground when it sees the law
of gravity (even artificial gravity) blatantly denied, then suddenly
corrected.

Arthur	: I think we should probably get back to the Heart of Gold.  Now.

They found that they had to carry Ford into the ship.



SCENE 14: Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Enterprise, Dr. Beverly Crusher
	  has just arrived at the bridge.

Beverly	: Oh my God, Commander, you've got to save my son!

Riker	: But I'm too busy trying to save the Captain right now.  Which
	  one do you want me to save first?

Beverly	: Oh.  Err ...

Suddenly, the Slimer loses grip on Wesley, and drops to the deck, gasping.

Slimer	: Slime!  Grease!  Hazardous nuclear wastes!  Cough, cough!

Wesley, now disengaged from Slimer, runs into Beverly's open arms as the
two closes in for a sentimental embrace.

Troi	: Ohhh ... how sweet.  This is such a touching moment *snif*.

Slimer	: This place is too dry, too clean!  I need water, great rolling
	  tides of black, polluted water!  Seas!  Seas of pizza cartons!
	  Oceans of spilled crude oil and hazardous waste drums!

Data	: I believe the creature is dying, sir.

Riker pulls out his phaser and vaporizes Slimer.

Riker	: (shrugs) Just putting it out of its misery.

Wesley and Beverly continues to hug vigorously.

Riker	: Okay, Wes, now take your stations.  We're going to rescue
	  Captain Picard.

Wesley	: (disengaging from Beverly)  Yes sir.

Riker	: Load phasers and torpedoes, lock on target, and fire!

Wesley	: Weapons fired, Commander.

There was a few blasts of orange-red explosions as the Enterprise's
weapons hit a few Borg landscape designers out on the hull surveying
the ship's exterior tower formation and arguing heatedly over the
degree of curvatures necessary for the service robot pathways in order
to achieve maximum karma enjoyment.

Riker	: Data, damage report.

Data	: Scanning, sir.

Wesley	: Commander!

Wesley is pointing at the main viewer, where they can see the Borg
ship slowly deteriorating.  Bits and pieces are floating off its
hull.  Lights are flashing on and off uncertainly, then decide to
simply cease functioning.

Troi	: It's dying, I can feel it!  It's so ... oh!

Troi suddenly collapses onto the deck, weeping.  Dr. Crusher kneels
down beside her, and runs her Sens-O-Medic over her body.  She then
throws up her hands hopelessly.

Beverly	: Sorry, Commander.  Everything checks out normal.  There's
	  nothing I can do.

Data	: Counselor Troi is correct, Commander.  Sensors are indicating
	  that the Borg is losing power at an astounding rate.

Wesley	: Yes!  We did it!  We've destroyed the Borg!

Data	: But what about the Captain?

Riker	: There's nothing we can do about him now.  I guess I'll just
	  have to take over from now on.  Data, turn the ship around.
	  Let's get out of here.

Wesley	: Sir, the Borg is hailing us.

Riker	: What?  Oh, err ...

Wesley	: It's probably the Borg asking for the terms of surrender.

Riker	: Really?  Oh, okay.  Data, open visual transmissions on screen.

On the main viewer, a dismayed, limping, slouching, metallic figure walks
up the Borg's remaining operating camera.  In the background, they can see
dense, acrid smokes fast filling the entire Borg ship.  The figure seems to
be dragging something heavy behind him.

Figure	: Hello there.



Will Zaphod and company finally be able to escape?  Will Worf force himself
into the Heart of Gold before they can do so?  Is Captain Picard dead?
Will Troi ever recover from her grief over ... what?  And finally, who is
this mysterious metallic figure who hailed them from the Borg?  For the
answers to these, and many other, non-towel-related questions, watch for the
next exciting _CONCLUSION_ of ...

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


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Article 3532 of alt.fan.douglas-adams: