DRG Must Die! Part One


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Episode 13 — DRG Must Die! Part One


[Bob:
     "Here we are at SkyDome!  What a crowd!  Fifty thousand
fans!  Look, look at this."  Pulls an orange baseball cap off the
head of a fan sitting nearby.  On the cap are the letters DRG. 
"They've sold five thousand of these in the last three hours! 
What did you pay for this?"
     "What?"
     "What did you pay for this?"
     "$24.95!"
     "$24.95?"
     "$24.95!"
     "Wow!"  He goes on to say something else but a roar goes up. 
Bob turns and we see that a view of the planet Petrus has come up
on the Jumbotron.  Bob goes on talking but we can't hear him for
the cheering, and then we switch to the satellite feed:]


     We are in orbit above the Petran equator.  The teal and
aubergine curve of the planet occupies the righthand side of the
screen.  In the distance we can see the Enterprise adrift in
space.  Small cubical lifeboats float here and there, red
emergency beacons blinking.  We see several of the boats moving
around using manoeuvring thrusters.  One coasts past close enough
for us to have a good look.  Hm, not much space in one of those
things.  In the distance we notice two lifeboats move together
and dock, beginning the process of "gaggle" formation referred to
by Captain Picard in the last episode.
     Now we are inside one of the lifeboats.  It's like watching
footage from a twentieth-century space shuttle flight.  Three
people are crowded into a very small space.  Each is intent on a
separate task, and each acclimatizing with a different degree of
success to the effects of zero gravity.  The three in question
are Worf, Troi and Doctor Crusher.  All are concentrating on
bringing some kind of order to the scattered flotilla.  Worf is
wedged into one corner, navigating carefully from instruments. 
Doctor Crusher floats upside-down making life-sign sensor sweeps
with a handheld computer pad tied in to the lifeboat's main
computer.  Troi wafts horizontally, methodically making voice
contact with lifeboat after lifeboat.  Between Troi and Doctor
Crusher the cabin is almost entirely full of floating hair.  Worf
brushes Doctor Crusher's red locks out of his eyes.  Troi and
Beverly trade places and soon Worf is brushing away Troi's dark
tresses.  The two women move around again and once again Worf
finds himself surrounded by red hair.  He grits his teeth.
     "Dah!"
     He suddenly begins to open lockers and drawers.
     Deanna and Beverly stop working and hang there, bobbing up
and down.
     "Worf, whatever are you looking for?"
     "Ponytail holders!"
     [Tremendous roar from crowd.]



     "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!

                    Starring Door Repair Guy 
                         as Himself

     Whoosh!

                         Also Starring

                         Patrick Stewart
                    as Captain Jean-Luc Picard

     Whoosh!

                         Jonathan Frakes
                    as Cmdr. William Riker

                         Marina Sirtis 
                    as Counsellor Deanna Troi

                         Michael Dorn
                         as Lt. Worf

                         LeVar Burton
                    as Lt. Cmdr. Geordi LaForge

                         Gates McFadden
                    as Doctor Beverly Crusher

                         and Brent Spiner
                       as Lt. Cmdr. Data


     The Enterprise looms into sight to the sound of French horns
and trombones.  [The SkyDome crowd roars.  The image of the
Enterprise is practically life-size on the enormous scoreboard
and for the first time most of the fans notice the two
crewmembers playing table tennis in the observation lounge.]  The
ship goes to warp and disappears in a burst of light.


[Commercial:
     "Fork!  Spoon!"]


     The captain's yacht.  Picard and La Forge are in the two
pilot's chairs.  They have gravity, but not enough hair for it to
matter.  They too are studying the dispersal of the lifeboats,
some of which are now nearly halfway around the planet.
     "Number eighty-one is drifting off quickly.  Bring us in
behind, Geordi."
     "Aye, Captain."
     "Picard to lifeboat eighty-one.  Do you read me?"
     Three voices: *Hell-o-o-o-o-o*
     Picard and La Forge exchange looks.
     "Who's there?"
     *I am!*
     *I am!*
     *Me!*
     "What are your names, please?"
     *Edwina!*
     *Clarabelle!*
     *Alexander!*
     *Alexander's pulling on my toes!  Make him stop!*
     "Alexander.  This is Captain Picard.  Stop pulling on her
toes."
     *Yes, Captain.  I will*
     "Children, we are going to catch your lifeboat with a
tractor beam, and join it up to the other lifeboats.  There will
be some bumps, so don't be frightened.  Do you understand?"
     *We're not frightened!*
     "That's good.  Mr La Forge, please engage tractor beam when
ready."
     *Captain Picard?*
     "Yes?  What is it?"
     *We have to go to the bathroom.  How do you go when you're
upside-wrong?*
     "Mr La Forge, smartly on that tractor beam."
     "Aye sir!"


[Commercial: Chunks Ahoy]


     The darkened bridge.  `Abandon ship' signals pulse, giving
the scene an infernal glow.  Data is at the tactical station,
entering commands at android speed.  His brother Lore is at the
helm, surrounded by a globular forcefield, countermanding Data's
orders at an identical rate.  Armus, the Skin of Evil, is stage
left, stroking a miserable, tar-covered Spot, and complaining.
     "AAARGH!  I HAVE COME ALL THISS DISSTANCCE TO SSEEK MY
REVENGE.  RRRR!!!!!  AND ALL I FIND ARE TWO MACHINESS AND A CAT!"
     " `Oh, thank you so much, Lore, for bringing me from my
planet of exile.'  You crude sludgeball, there are four humans at
large aboard the ship.  You'd know that if you had the brains to
figure out a computer display."
     "RRRRRR!!!!"
     "Lore, speaking as your brother, may I suggest that you have
not been consorting with the right sort of people.  Armus is the
accumulated evil of an entire civilization, and has already
committed murder.  You would be well advised to shun his
company."
     "ARRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!  IF I DID NOT LIKE YOUR CAT SSO
MUCCCH I WOULD TIE IT IN A KNOT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!  BUT IT ISS SSO
CUTE!!!!"
     Data and Lore exchange looks.


     Riker, Ursula, Door Repair Guy and the tactical officer who
appears at this late point in the season to be fated never to
have a name advance down a deserted corridor.
     Riker stops suddenly.  "Communicators."  He removes his and
throws it on the floor.  The others follow suit.  He gathers the
badges together with his toe, steps back, draws his phaser, and
reduces them to a blob of metal alloy.
     Riker: "We need computer access of some kind.  What's in
that room?"
     Ursula: "The Arboretum."
     Tactical officer: "Doesn't Botany have those special dirt-
resistant gravipolar units?"
     Riker: "The DRGs!  That's right.  Try it, DRG."
     "All right, all right."
     DRG goes to the door and examines the lock display.
     "Whoa!  There's no air in there.  It escaped out the far
door to the corridor on the other side."
     Riker: "Can you close the far door from here?"
     DRG enters some commands.
     "Done."
     "How big is that room?"
     "I dunno."
     "What's the largest plant in there?"
     "Terrelian pea pod, I guess.  About ten feet high."
     "And it touches the ceiling?"
     "Yeah.  Now I remember!  Somebody carved their initials in
it.  WR + DT.  What a boob!"
     "All right, all right.  Breathing gear on.  We're going in.  
Brace yourselves.  Door Repair Guy, open that door."
     DRG steps back and phasers the door into oblivion, not
without obvious glee.  The air in the corridor bursts into the
vacuum of the Arboretum, knocking the four stowaways off their
feet and filling the corridor with a backwash of topsoil.  In a
moment the air pressure has equalized and the four creep in,
covered with dirt.
     The Arboretum is a mess: topsoil everywhere, trees and
potted plants knocked here and there, everything covered with a
layer of dirt -- except the gravipolar computer console.
     DRG drops a handful of earth on the top of the monitor.  The
dirt never hits it, but swirls away like water, leaving it
spotless.  DRG leans over and says through his air mask:
     "It's so clean.  Mm.  Lemon smell."
     "Enough of that!"  The tactical officer pulls him aside and
begins to access the computer system.
     "The crew has abandoned ship.  There is no one on board
except us, Lt Cmdr Data, some stray pets, and two intruders."
     "Where is Data?"
     "On the bridge."
     "Can you get a visual display?"
     "Here, use this channel."  Ursula shoulders the tactical
officer aside and accesses a security camera image of the bridge.
     They see Data, Lore . . . and Armus!
     "Ooo, poor cat."
     "What are Data and Lore doing?"
     "They're trying to lock each other out of the computer
system."
     "But they're practically identical."
     "Stalemate."
     "Why doesn't Armus do something to help Lore?"
     "I don't know.  Perhaps he prefers cats."    
     Riker: "Hm.  We've got our work cut out for us."  He pulls
open some drawers and gathers together four computer pads.
     "Here.  Keep these with you at all times.  We'll use them to
communicate with one another and with the ship's computer.  We'll
have to avoid the primary systems so as not to attract Lore's
attention.  Any suggestions?"
     DRG: "Insect control?"
     Ursula: "We have an insect control system?"
     "Sure.  Why do you think there are no insects on board?"
     "I never thought about it."
     Riker: "Hopefully Lore has never thought about it either. 
Insect control it is.  Now, the plan."
     Tactical officer: "We should do a Wesley Crusher."
     Riker: "You mean transport them into space.  Good one."
     Ursula: "Will Lore fall for that one again?  He has a force
field obviously designed to prevent it."
     Tactical: "With enough power we can transport him out chair,
force field and all."
     Riker: "Can we do that from here?"
     Ursula: "I'm trying to access transporter control now.  I
can't get near it.  There must be a hundred levels of lockout
protocol around it."
     Tactical: "That's Data and Lore."
     Ursula: "Is there another transporter system we can use?"
     Riker: "There's the shuttlecraft transporters."
     Ursula: "But the shuttlebays are all open to space.  We
can't get aboard them."
     Tactical: "He can."  (He points at Door Repair Guy.)
     Ursula: "Your Borg transporter!"
     Riker: "Okay.  Here's the plan.  You transport into one of
the shuttles.  Use the shuttle transporter to beam Lore and Armus
into space.  If you have to, power up engines and divert extra
power to the transporter.  Tear the whole helm console out if you
have to."
     DRG: "Two things."
     Riker: "Okay?"
     DRG: "What about the cat?"
     Everybody shrugs.
     DRG: "Okay, then, what about me?  What do I get out of it?"
     Riker: "I could hit you so hard!"
     DRG: "All right!  All right!  Here I go."
     Tactical: "Wait!  Take this."
     DRG takes the computer pad and hits his transporter control,
disappearing in a Borg transporter effect.


[Bob:
     (Mouth full of hot dog:)
     "Rr, rre errr gump rorr norr."]


[Commercial:
     "Coming in July: the Klingon Network.  Entertainment, news,
sports, how-to shows, kids' programming.  It's all here on the
Klingon Network.  Like:
          `Bowling For Honour';
          `Sixty Kellicams';
          `The Growling Gourmet'.
     Subscribe now."]


     The bridge.  Data and Lore are still locked in their systems
override stalemate.  Lore is not pleased.
     "Hey!  Petroleum Jelly!  How about a little assistance?"
     Armus, who has been scratching Spot under the chin, behind
the ear, and in fact all over the body in hopes of eliciting a
purr, looks up and growls, "WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN
BUSSINESSS?"
     "Look, Oilslick, could you just go over there and knock my
brother off his feet for one little teeny moment?  I'm trying to
site-transport him off the ship."
     Armus howls with annoyance and trudges across the bridge. 
He comes up the side ramp toward Data's position at tactical but
at the last moment he changes his mind and walks into the
turbolift.
     "Hey!  Just where do you think you're going?"
     "TO WALK THE CAT."
     The doors close.
     "What a loser!"
     "Despite everything, brother, I am forced to disagree.  His
obvious regard for Spot demonstrates some tiny particle of
humanity, which is more than I can ascribe to you."
     "Oh really?  I just prefer dogs, that's all."
     "Tell me, Lore, what are your intentions in the event you
are able to overcome me and gain control of the ship?"
     "Wouldn't you like to know!  Oh well, I wouldn't be much of
a villain if I didn't spill my guts for no good strategic
purpose.  I figure I'll let Armus torment your friends out there
for a while and then, just when their life-support is failing,
we'll blow them to bits and go after those good-for-nothing Borg
on that mall planet.  With them as my galley slaves we'll
navigate the wormhole superhighway causing mayhem and misery for
no good reason beyond the sheer delicious fun of it all."
     "Lore, you are not a good man."
     "I'll take that as a compliment.  Ah ha!  Got you now,
brother!"
     Data is surrounded by Lore's transporter beam, but at the
same moment Lore's force field dissolves and he is caught in
Data's transporter beam.  They both reappear, Lore in his force
field at tactical and Data at the helm.  They stop and stare at
each other a moment and then return to inputting commands at
superhuman speed.


     Inside the docked lifeboats.  We're able to see down the
length of about five lifeboats, all joined together like
compartments in a submarine.  It's like a sardine can.  People
and equipment float everywhere.  A baby cries.  Worf, as chief of
security, insists on swimming from compartment to compartment,
despite the fact that he takes up more room than anyone else. 
When he climbs through the compartment where the baby is crying
he orders it to hush, which only results in a moment's surprise
followed by a redoubling of volume.  His assertion that a Klingon
baby would not behave in such a manner falls on deaf ears and
merely serves to foster a general atmosphere of resentment.  He
returns to his own lifeboat.
     "I know!" says Doctor Crusher, loud enough to be heard in
several adjoining compartments, "Let's sing a song!  Does anyone
know `Michael, Row the Boat Ashore'?"


     The interior of a shuttlecraft.  The Borg transporter
effect.  Door Repair Guy appears, stumbles around, then finds the
lights.  He holds up his computer pad, accesses insect control
and gets a schematic of the bridge.
     "Hey, wait a minute, there's only two.  Hm.  Well, Lore's
the guy in the chair, anyway.  Here goes."
     He activates the shuttle's transporter.
     On the bridge Data is surrounded by a transporter shimmer. 
A moment later he has a bird's eye view of the Enterprise.
     "Oh."
     Lore: "Yee hee!  Attention all hands.  Attention all hands. 
Are you ever in for it now!"
     In the Arboretum:
     Riker: "What happened?"
     Ursula: "He transported Data!"
     Tactical: "RRRRRRRR!!!!!!"
     Borg transporter effect.
     DRG: "Hi, guys.  How'd I do?"
     Tactical: "RRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!"
     *Attention crew.  This is your captain speaking.  I know
where you are and I know what you're doing*
     The doors at the far side of the Arboretum open.  Everybody
hits the deck as the remainder of the atmosphere vents into the
vacuum of the far corridor.
     As the wind subsides Riker grabs Ursula and the tactical
officer and makes for the open door.  Door Repair Guy, sensing he
is not the people's choice at that moment, follows, breathing
hard into his air mask.  They make it into the corridor, but
almost immediately a windstorm hits them.  Lore is emptying
decksful of atmosphere in an attempt either to asphyxiate them or
batter them to death.  They pass through door after door, moving
across the ship through dark airless rooms and corridors.  Riker
leads the way, reading a map on his computer pad.  They are very
quickly freezing cold and pause occasionally to phaser a bulkhead
for warmth.  At last they enter a short access tunnel.  Riker
phaser-welds the door shut behind them, signals them to prepare
for pressurization, and hits the control for the exit door.  Air
thunders in, beating them this way and that, but it is air, and
it's warm.  They pull off their air masks and pant.


[Commercial:
     "Part of our heritage:
          `Now is the . . . summer . . . of our discontent.'
          `Bill!  Phone!  It's that Roddenberry guy.'
          `Woo-hoo!  Goodbye Shakespeare!']


     Riker and company stagger out into a warm, lit corridor. 
The door opposite reads SAUCER PHOTON TORPEDO LAUNCH ROOM.
     Riker tries the door.  Locked.
     "You!  Get this open!"
     Door Repair Guy takes his spinning head over to the nearby
access panel and pulls off the panel's cover.  The door has a
manual override.  A *manual* override.  He pulls the handle, and
Riker and the other two dash into the torpedo launch room.  When
he releases the handle the door closes and locks, leaving him in
the corridor.
     "Hm.  I'll just transport in."
     The hits the control.  He gets a tingling sensation but
nothing else.
     He types into his computer pad: HEY! I'M STUCK OUTSIDE!
     The pad reads back: WE SET UP A SECURITY FORCE FIELD.  GO TO
PANEL 1456B AND DIVERT MORE POWER TO US.
     He goes off grumbling.
     

     Captain's yacht.
     La Forge: "Lifeboat sixteen, we are manoeuvring you to
within one hundred metres of the gaggle.  Do you have sufficient
fuel to complete docking?"
     *Affirmative*
     "Then you are cleared to proceed."
     View of the yacht releasing its tractor hold on the
lifeboat.  Slowly the small cube turns and begins to thrust
haltingly toward the mosaic of already docked lifeboats.  An orb
of light is seen rising up from the planet.  The camera moves to
one side to follow it up, and then moves back toward the gaggle
and the approaching lifeboat.  The orb curves and lands on the
roofs of the docked lifeboats and transforms into a white-clad
winged biped.  The angel walks over to the edge of the gaggle and
points to a particular port.  The lifeboat eases toward that port
and docks.  The being inspects the coupling and is apparently
satisfied.  It looks up at the astonished Picard and La Forge and
makes a gesture signifying, roughly, "Well, come on, get the lead
out."
     "How many more lifeboats, Mr La Forge?"
     "Twenty-nine, Captain."
     "Then on to the next with all dispatch.  Apparently, heaven
can't wait."


[Commercial:
     "Part of our heritage:
          `Now, Mr Doohan, read it in a Parisian accent.'
          `Ah do not zink she can take very much more of zees.'
          `No, that's not it.  Do you know any others?'
          `How about Canadian?'
          `Huh?'
          `Oh, jeez, lookit, she can't take much mora this."
          `No, we already have an alien character.  Can you do
     Scottish?']


     "Tactical, how's that force field?"
     "It'll keep Door Repair Guy out, but I don't know about Lore
and Armus."
     "We'll have to chance it.  Braun, what's the status of the
torpedo tube?"
     "Ready for action, Commander."
     "Torpedoes?"
     "Standing by."
     "Then lock and load."
     "Sir, exactly what is the plan now?"
     "High stakes poker.  Riker to Lore."
     *Well, hello!  You made it through the weather all right?*
     "Lore, let's cut the bull.  You either turn over the ship
right now or I'll blow it up."
     Ursula and the tactical officer: "Gulp."
     *Hmmmmmmm, I don't think you will*
     Ursula and the tactical officer: "He will!  He will!"
     "Lore, you've got till ten.  I'm counting.  One.  Two."


     "Panel 1456B."
     Door Repair Guy pulls the panel off the wall, exposing a
network of power conduits.  He searches his utility belt for a
laser splicer but, unable to find one, settles for a pair of
needle-nose pliers.  He inserts them into the power net, closes
them, gives them a ninety degree turn, and rebounds off the
opposite wall in a shower of pyrotechnic effects.  He tumbles
jolting and jumping into the middle of the corridor with blue
lightning running up and down his limbs.  
     After a few moments a pair of white sandalled feet walk up
and stop beside him.  The angel leans down, examines him closely,
makes some kind of mental note, and then walks on.


     "Ni-i-i-i-i-ne . . . ten."
     Riker turns to the tactical officer.
     "Fire."
     The camera moves from the tactical officer's face down to
his hand and the end of his finger poised over the launch
control.
     [Dramatic violins and horns.]

--
Written by Douglas A. McLeod (ai919@freenet.carleton.ca)
--

Episode 13 — DRG Must Die! Part One

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