[Door sequence: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...]


[SOL bridge interior]

[DIANE is again at the computer, with DOUG and HELEN looking
on. NUMBER ONE enters from the right.]

NUMBER ONE: (to OTHERS) Oh boy. What have y'all found
_now_? Or do I really want to know?

DIANE: We're just checking out the other MPT3k newsgroups.
They seem to be a bit tamer than the other two. Alt.mpt3k is
pretty empty. Alt.binaries.mpt3k is mainly pictures of me, Nyssa,
Helen, and your female half, mostly from Episode 7. And this
one, nz.media.tv.sf.mpt3k, is about 50% crossposts from rec.arts.
mpt3k, while the other 50% is polite requests to stop crossposting
from rec.arts.mpt3k.

NUMBER ONE: Wow. Who'd have ever thought we'd find some-
thing that makes _our_ lives seem like a non-stop party?

[A light on the console begins to flash.]

HELEN: Time to see what the Legion of Doom has to say.
[presses light]


[Interior back room at This Time Round]

[ADRIC and HARRY stand behind the console. ADRIC is looking
at a monitor to one side.]

ADRIC: My plan is working _perfectly_, Harry!

HARRY: (to ADRIC) Jolly good, Old Boy! Anna-Nicole Smith
will be yours in no time!

ADRIC: Er, no. My _other_ plan.

HARRY: Oh! You mean your plan to get on-line MPT3k fandom
to stop attacking you by appointing David Rubin to be the official
fan leader, thus giving them someone else to abuse?

ADRIC: Yes, that one. [chuckles] Just look at them swarm after
him on rec.arts.mpt3k! It's like tossing a pork chop into a Richard
Simmons seminar! [looks up at screen] And a big howdy to you,
too, Superfriends! How was your hearty meal of Klanned spam?
It went down hard, I hope?



HELEN: It was degrading.

DIANE: It was demeaning.

DOUG: It was demagoguery.

NUMBER ONE: It was like listening to a rattlesnake tell you why
you should pet it.

[NYSSA enters from the right, carrying a beaker full of something
lumpy, purplish, and steaming.]

NYSSA: What, the rant? It was just like you, Swamprat: short,
ugly, and completely full of crap.

NUMBER ONE: [eyes beaker suspiciously] (to NYSSA) Just
what might that be?

NYSSA: (to NUMBER ONE, slyly) It might just be a cure for
your curse...

NUMBER ONE: (to NYSSA, fearfully) I have to drink _that_?

NYSSA: (to NUMBER ONE) Of course not!

NUMBER ONE: Oh, good...

[NYSSA pulls an enormous hypodermic needle out of her coat.]

NYSSA: Now, be a good boy and bend over.



ADRIC: (annoyed) Excuse me! Let's not forget who's in charge
around here! Pay attention to me when I'm taunting y--

[The screen suddenly dissolves into static.]



[DOUG, DIANE, and HELEN are holding the struggling NUMBER
ONE in place as NYSSA is getting ready to jab him in the butt
with the syringe full of purple goo. ALL suddenly stop and look
up at the screen.]

DIANE: Oh, Hell. This had better not be--


[Interior, Tegan World Order Headquarters]

[The room's walls have been covered with sheets to prevent
possible identification. Some complex-looking electronic devices
are in the foreground, while in the back is a large banner that
the control console stand TEGAN (a pretty, short-haired woman
in a black trenchcoat) and VARNE (a tall, attractive redhead
wearing an identical black trenchcoat). BOTH are smirking.]

TEGAN: Greetings, reactionary swine.



NYSSA: [scowls] I might have known it'd be _you_.

[NYSSA glares at the screen as she savagely jabs the needle into
NUMBER ONE's bottom.]




TEGAN: You were expecting maybe Paula Abdul?



DOUG: (tiredly) All right, Bobsey Twins, what do you want?



VARNE: (singing) I want to li-ive!/I want to live my life!

TEGAN: (to VARNE) I thought we agreed, no Ramones.

VARNE: (to TEGAN) Sorry. It slipped.

TEGAN: (to screen) Why, what I want is quite simple, really.
You see, I've been thinking here lately--



NYSSA: (snottily) Starting a bit late in life, aren't you?



TEGAN: [glares] And what I've been thinking is this. You lot
are the most irredeemably recidivistic bunch of counter-progressive
loonies I know. This whole therapy bit is designed to break down
your minds so that you can be cured. It seems obvious, then, that
whatever bit of prose finally manages to do that to you would be
nigh-invincible against your typical, run-of-the-mill reactionary
mind. Do you see where I'm going with this?



DIANE: No, but I''ve got a feeling that _we're_ headed up Shit



TEGAN: [sneers] And you lot are supposed to be so smart! Let
me spell it out, then. Whatever piece of crap prose finally crushes
your wills, that will then become the TWO's secret weapon in the
fight against the international capitalist bourgeois patriarchy! I'll
broadcast it across the globe, breaking the minds of the imperialist
oligarchs and paving the way for a rising by the exploited Feminist
masses! What do you think about _that_?



NYSSA: I think you don't even know what most of those words
mean. [pulls needle out of NUMBER ONE's butt]



TEGAN: Sneer while you can, counter-revolutionaries. Adric
thought he was skimming the bottom by digging a spam up from
talk.politics.guns, but he doesn't know what the _real_ dregs of
Usenet hold. Varne and I went straight to the bottom of the food
chain: alt.conspiracy. And there we found this delightful little...
whatever it is. A rant, I suppose. I call it, 'To All You ZOG-Pigs',
but you can just call it pain! (to VARNE) Send them the rant,

[Humming 'Psychotherapy' under her breath, VARNE presses a
large and conspicuous button on the console.]


[Various alarms, lights, and sirens go off as general chaos ensues.]

ALL: Aaaaah! We've got Feminist guerrilla secret-weapon rant

[ALL run off.]


[Door sequence: 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...]


[SOL, Theater interior]

[All five enter the theater as usual and take their accustomed

NUMBER ONE: (to NYSSA) So, I'm cured, now?

NYSSA: [shrugs] I dunno. We can splash you later and find

NUMBER ONE: But, you said it was a cure!

NYSSA: I said it _might_ be.

NUMBER ONE: But, you tested it, right?

NYSSA: Of course. Just now, on you.

DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE) It's been nice knowing you.

[A screen in front of the four lights up and words begin to appear
on it.]

>--To all you Zog-Pigs,

HELEN: Great. Only four words into it, and I'm already con-
fused. Will someone please tell me what a Zog-Pig is?

NYSSA: It's a small herbivore indigenous to the planet Zog-
Delta in the Klowdokrap Nebula.

DOUG: No, no. It's a derogatory name for members of the
Albanian Monarchist Party.

NUMBER ONE: _Actually_, 'ZOG' is the acronym for the Zion-
ist Overlord Government, the secret Jewish Conspiracy that is
supposed to rule America. Kind of like the Illuminati, but with-
out that nifty eyeball-thingy.

DIANE: (singing) All you Zog-Pigs hide your fa-a-aces...

>especially Wayne Mann

DIANE: Yeah! Stick it to the Mann!

HELEN: So, who's Wayne Mann?

NYSSA: It's a small herbivore indigenous to--

DIANE: (to NYSSA, interrupting) Oh, hush.

>While non-game ecstatic communications manifest at c^2 in
>this temporal realm of the corporeal,

NUMBER ONE: And thus, Miss Sherman gives the author an
'A+' for using all the week's vocabulary words in one sentence.
Mommy will be so proud.

NYSSA: Now we know who taught Tegan her new vocabulary.

>we should all be grateful that these newsgroups provide

DOUG: ...500,000% of the daily recommended allowance of
x-rated spam, chain letters, and moronic conspiracy rants.

DIANE: And let's not forget about the fanfics about aquatrans-
sexuals and the Ogrons who love them.

NUMBER ONE: (to DIANE) Shut up, you. Anyway, I might
be cured of that.

NYSSA: (to NUMBER ONE) Or, you might be dying of massive
blood poisoning. [shrugs] Either way, problem solved, right?

>us non-antichrists, non-filthy fascist

NYSSA: So, he's a clean fascist, then.

HELEN: Actually, there _is_ something about a freshly-shined
jackboot that gets me all hot and bothered.

DIANE: (to HELEN) Oh, like anything _doesn't_?

>homo zog-pigs opportunity to speak out

NYSSA: So, is he saying he's a pro-Christ, clean fascist homo

DOUG: [shrugs] Maybe the author is Snowball.

>in this widely publicized public forum against these filthy
>sickly, pernicious homos

HELEN: What is it with these conspiracy-wackos and their
obsession with filth?

NUMBER ONE: (grunting) Damn all homos! Sapiens, erectus,
habilis, all of them! We Australopithecines are God's true

>to warn them in these last days of tribulation,

DIANE: 'The Trouble with Tribulation'...

NUMBER ONE: (to DIANE, contemptuously) Trekkie!

>that they are damned to hellfire into the ages of ages lest they

NYSSA: (brightly) Isn't that nice? Mr. Wacko here is worried
about people's souls, and wants to try and save them from what
he thinks is a horrible fate. You don't find many conspiracy
loons who care that much about their fellow-man...

DIANE: (to NYSSA) Actually, I think he's just gloating.

HELEN: (Tim McInnerny) You heartless gloaters!

>That could be a LONG time, given the imminent perpetual age

DOUG: That's what Dick Clark is in!

>in which no place is found for homosexuals,

NUMBER ONE: The closet is full, huh?

HELEN: [whaps NUMBER ONE on the head]


NYSSA: (to OTHERS) Well, that's you lot accounted for, then.

DIANE: (to NYSSA) And _you_.

NYSSA: I think not.

DIANE: You're nearly as bad as we are.

NYSSA: (smugly) You can't prove a thing. Compared to you
four, I'm as pure as the driven snow!

DOUG: (to NYSSA) Yeah, but you drifted.

>adulterers, those using money,

DOUG: What the Hell...? 'Homosexuals, perverts, adulterers,
and those using money'? How does that last one fit in?

DIANE: (singing softly) One of these things/Is not like the
others/One of these things just/Doesn't belong...

NYSSA: A skilled psychoanalyst could have a field day with
that line.

>i.e., those supporting this antichrist world government in
>any way!

NUMBER ONE: Damn. I knew I'd regret buying that "I <heart>
my antichrist world government" bumper sticker.

>You are commanded by your Lord and King Jesus to serve
>God only, not mammon!

NYSSA: That's a relief, because I can never remember which
wine to serve with mammon, anyway.

NUMBER ONE: (to audience) The author is trying to quote
Matthew 6:24, for those of you following along at home.

HELEN: (smugly) Oh, yeah? Well, the author seems to have
forgotten... umm... uh... Luke, er... 24:42? Yeah, that's the one.

NUMBER ONE: (to HELEN) 'They gave him a piece of broiled
fish', you mean?

HELEN: [scratches head] Yeah. Aheh heh... You just have to,
uh, know how to interpret it...

>What did you think?

DIANE: ...that pro wrestling was real?

DOUG: (Tweety) ...you taw a puddy-tat?

>Did you think that you could serve God and mammon?

NYSSA: (singing) ...You've got another think coming...

>You're a bloody ignorant fool if you thought that.

DOUG: (prophet) And thus shall the pot excoriate the kettle...

>Wise up man:

NUMBER ONE: (Curly Howard) Aaah! Wise guy, huh? Nyuk
nyuk nyuk!


NYSSA: ...Harlequin!

DIANE: (to NYSSA) Oh, like anybody will get that.

>Anyone who serves mammon is damned to hellfire.

NUMBER ONE: And anyone who serves tofu casserole should
be smacked with a chunk of stovewood.

>Anyone who is a banker, lawyer or broker,

NYSSA: ...is already in Satan's personal service and won't need
to bother reading this.

DOUG: [whaps NYSSA on the head] What did I say earlier
about picking on lawyers?!

>or drives a fossil-fuel burning poison machine,

DIANE: Isn't that the name of the new Daimler-Chrysler SUV?

NUMBER ONE: [shrugs] It's a better name than 'Denali', at

>and/or anyone who participates in this disgusting fascist pig
>society of mass- murdering, child-molesting, human-
>sacrificing, demonic nation of Satan

DOUG: Something tells me this guy's been watching way too
much Jerry Springer.

>in any way is damned to hellfire into the ages of the ages--lest
>you repent

HELEN: So, all these people are damned unless _I_ repent? So,
then, what's in it for me?

>and the first works do!

NUMBER ONE: Is this guy German?


NUMBER ONE: Putting the verb at the end of the sentence.

HELEN: Nah, it's just a religion thing. Stuff sounds holier if
you don't say it normally.

DIANE: One of these days, I'll have to get a ground wire put
in my seat, lest you three are by lightning struck.

>Jesus is your only true salvation from your money-worship.

NYSSA: I thought that was Marx.

HELEN: I'm not a money-worshipper! I'm a goddess-worshipper!

NUMBER ONE: (to HELEN) So, you've renounced the traditional
phallocentric societal superstitions and taken up New-Age vagino-
centric mumbo-jumbo instead?

DIANE: (to OTHERS) When the smiting starts, don't come
crawling to me! [looks up] You listening up there? It's those
three, not me.

DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE) You're trying to offend literally
_everybody_, aren't you?

>Jesus is the One true messiah expected since the fall of man.

NUMBER ONE: If we're expecting company, why is our place
such a total mess?

DIANE: Amen to that...

>Edgar Cayce gave many informative readings on this

HELEN: Okay, we have just officially gone from wacko funda-
mentalist religion to wacko supermarket-tabloid religion.

>and related subjects, the fall of man,

DOUG: He taped the fall on his camcorder and then sent the
tape to Bob Saget, but it lost out to yet another baseball-in-the-
crotch film and a tape of some dancing ferrets.

>prehistoric civilizations

NUMBER ONE: He spoke of the fabled land of Bedrock...

>both terrestrial and extraterrestrial using advanced zero-point/
>antigrav energy technologies

NYSSA: Feh. Child's toys, compared to _real_ technology.

DIANE: (to NYSSA) Oh? So what did you Trakens use?

NYSSA: (proudly) ASCT!


NYSSA: Advanced Static-Cling Technology. We not only used
ASCT for interstellar drives, structural gravity nullification, and
communications, but we could also play lots of mean tricks on
our cats, too! Unfortunately, that also meant that all an enemy
had to do to destroy a Traken starship was hit it with a dryer-

DOUG: (to NYSSA) Wow, really?


>today barely understood by antichrist "Area51/Pine Gap" pigs.

DOUG: Like Napoleon?

HELEN: Or Babe?

DIANE: Or Wilbur?

NYSSA: Or Arnold Ziffle?

NUMBER ONE: Now P-chan, on the other hand...

>Cayce spoke extensively on karmic-ancestral incarnations,

HELEN: Comic incestual incantations?

DIANE: That's what we're reading now.

>giving a plethora

NUMBER ONE: (El Guapo) Do you know what 'plethora' means?
I think you should be certain of your words before telling a man
that he has a 'plethora'.

>of insights into the akasa--the eternal hologram of the universe.

NYSSA: I thought that was Rimmer.

>The monuments at Giza, Cydonia, and solar systems across the
>milky way were all built using

NUMBER ONE: ...petrified Christmas fruitcakes.

>"forbidden" technologies suppressed by today's primitive fascist

DOUG: (to OTHERS) Am I the only one who keeps picturing
the pig-cops from 'Duke Nukem' when he says that?

NUMBER ONE: (pig-cop) Gotcha now, Nukem! And we're
gonna suppress your ass!

HELEN: (to NUMBER ONE) You can 'suppress' mine, if you're

>they can not possibly know the truth!

NYSSA: ...that Soylent Green is people!

>That's because ETs and the ancients were not mass- murdering,
>gun-toting, bloodletting scum as are the zog-vermin today.

DIANE: Au contraire! Case in point: _Nyssa_ is an extraterre-
strial, and she is the very model of a mass-murdering, gun-toting,

NYSSA: (to DIANE, interrupting) Finish that thought, and die
young, Blondie.

DIANE: [smirks] Point proven.

>ETs are non-violent,

[NYSSA glares at the OTHERS as they all look at her and

>non-antichrists, and as such are able to live the spiritual life

NUMBER ONE: I'd like to turn the author into a spiritual life

NYSSA: (to OTHERS) Oh, and _I_ am the violent one?

>that the antichrist government pigs can't know. That's why they
>denounce "kooks" and "wackos", since they are liars and killers

DOUG: Wow. I knew kooks and wackos lied, but I didn't know
they were killers, too.

HELEN: Perhaps he meant 'liars and killjoys'.

>by profession--i.e. for their "thirty pieces of silver"!

NUMBER ONE: Seventeen pieces after tax. Six if Nader ever
gets elected.

>There's only one rule of thumb you need to know

DIANE: (author) Let me just pull it out of my ass, here...

>concerning fascist ZOG government: they are the antichrist,

DOUG: (singing) ...They are the children/They are the ones
who will conquer the world/So you'd better start giving...

>thus no truth is in them. NEVER trust anyone who agrees or
>supports mass-murdering zog-pigs,

NUMBER ONE: Oops. Guess I'd better cancel the big 'Mass-
Murdering Zog-Pig Bake Sale' I had planned.

>These are the absolute scum of the earth,

NYSSA: No, you're thinking of James Carville.

>merely worth perdition's unquenchable flames

HELEN: A bit of Preparation H will take care of that.

>and no more... lest they repent. Got it?

NYSSA: Yes, and now I'd like to get rid of it.

>Good. If you have a bank account, close it!

NUMBER ONE: Yeah, well my wussy twin took care of that
back in Episode 5.

>If you see a doctor, STOP!

HELEN: Then throw him on the floor, rip that frock coat right
off his luscious body, and show him what real frocking is all

>If you see a dentist, STOP!

DOUG: (author) Yeah! Teeth are a device of Satan, and us non-
antichrist, non-filthy fascist, non-inductive, uh, non-refundable,
nondescript, nonagenarian, non-homo Zog-vermin don't need
them! All _real_ Christians eat gruel!

>If you go shopping, STOP!

DIANE: (announcer) This message was NOT brought to you by
the International Credit Card Association.

>If you know a lawyer, call him or her a TRAITOR!

DOUG: (angrily) Damn it! What is it with everybody and
lawyers!? They're people, too! Some of them, anyway. Er, a
large minority of them...

NYSSA: (to DOUG) Just out of curiosity, how many lawyers do
you know, aside from your wife, who _aren't_ jackals in suits?

DOUG: [thinks] Umm... Two?

>If you drive a car, STOP!

NUMBER ONE: ...and give me a ride to the next 'Dead show,


HELEN: (Tegan Jovanka) ...we had an Index File, we could look
it up in the Index File under 'Index File'!

NYSSA: (to HELEN, darkly) I really _don't_ think you want
me to associate you with Tegan in any way, at this point.

>If you are among these billions of sickly, mammon-worshipping
>fascist pigs of the world,

DOUG: (Carl Sagan) Biiiillions and biiiillions of pigs...

DIANE: From the PBS special 'Carl Sagan Goes to a Sausage

>I implore you, *do* as Jesus commanded us do,

HELEN: Okay! Didn't he say to love our neighbors? [grabs onto
DIANE] Feel the love, baby!

DIANE: [starts trying to shove HELEN away] AAAH! Get off!!

HELEN: (to DIANE, huskily) I'm _trying_ to!

[DIANE struggles for a moment, then finally manages to push
HELEN away from her.]

DIANE: (to HELEN, furiously) Damn it! Am I going to have to
hurt you!?

HELEN: [makes puppy-dog eyes at DIANE] Would you, please?

DIANE: AAAARGH!! (to HELEN) Will you _stop_ that!?

HELEN: (to DIANE, happily) Nope!

DIANE: (grimly, to self) So, that's it, then. I really am in Hell.
[sulks] Will my suffering never end?

NYSSA: (happily) I hope not! You can't _buy_ entertainment
like this! [grins and munches popcorn]

DIANE: [apathetically flips middle finger at NYSSA]

>It's not enough to have "good intentions", as you know
>such paves the road to Hell!

HELEN: So, if good intentions pave the road to Hell, then what
paves the road to Heaven?

DOUG: (to HELEN) Asgardphalt! [grins]

OTHERS: [groan and throw popcorn at DOUG]

>I advise you, renounce any "job"

NUMBER ONE: Does that include hand- and blow- ?

NYSSA: [grimaces and whaps NUMBER ONE on the head]
There's your _blow_ from my _hand_!

>you might have where *you* accept Caesar's usury-based

HELEN: (cashier) Will you be paying by check, charge, or
Caesar's usury-based mammon?

DOUG: Is it just me, or would 'Caesar's Usury-Based Mammon'
be a cool name for a band?

>in exchange for your contributions to their antichrist empire.

DIANE: I wonder if they're tax-deductible?

>Read the Bible and preach the Gospel in every way that you
>can! If you're like me,

NUMBER ONE: 'Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest
thou also be like unto him.' Proverbs 26:4.

>you'll use these newsgroup forums to warn these antichrist
>fascist pigs of their impending doom and unescapable
>damnation as prophesied since ancient times.

DOUG: I'm just curious how the Apocalypse Gloater here can
afford an Internet account with no job, no money, no car, no
bank account...

NYSSA: (to DOUG) Don't some prisons provide the convicts
with Internet access?

DOUG: Saaaaaayyy...

>The time is short before the greatest cataclysm of all human
>history occurs.

DIANE: ABBA makes a comeback?

HELEN: The Earth runs out of latex?

NUMBER ONE: Rosie O'Donnell gets a new TV show?

NYSSA: The French conquer the world?

DOUG: A Nader/Buchanan ticket wins the Presidency?

>If you're a money-worshipping zog-pig, you'd do well to

HELEN: Shampoo, rinse, repent...

>I advise you ZOG-PIGS to stop using money and repent of your

DIANE: (singing) You've got to change your evil ways/Baby...

>before judgement day finds you unrepentant, unremorseful,

ALL: [bowing repeatedly] We're not worthy! We're not worthy!

>of the crown of life which only our Lord Jesus Christ gives to
>those who are faithful to the Word of God in spirit and in truth.
>But for anyone who remains faithful to money, you are
>covered with slime

HELEN: No, it's baby oil.

>and God-damned by your filth!

DOUG: Rather hateful for a supposed Christian, isn't he?

NUMBER ONE: 'If a man say, "I love God," and hateth his
brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he
hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?' 1 John

DIANE: [looks narrowly at NUMBER ONE] Is it just me, or
does it just seem _wrong_ that the most sacrilegious person
aboard is also the one who quotes the Bible from memory?

NUMBER ONE: [smiles mysteriously]

>You can NOT serve God and mammon. Got it?

NYSSA: After reading all this, I just have one question: Can
you serve God and mammon? I'm still not too clear on that point.

HELEN: And, I believe we can take this one out of the oven,
because it's _done_.

DOUG: (to HELEN) You mean, 'we can stick a fork in it'.

HELEN: [shrugs] Whatever. As long as this crap's over with.

[The lights come back on and ALL get up and leave the theater.]


[Door sequence: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...]


[SOL bridge interior]

[This time, HELEN is at the computer, with DOUG and DIANE
looking over her shoulders. NUMBER ONE sits on the console
a short distance away, smoking a cigarette.]

DOUG: [looking at monitor] This is unbelievable. This Episode
isn't even over yet, and the fans are already fighting over it on
the newsgroups.

DIANE: [looking at monitor] They've even formed _factions_.
The Rants want more verbal repartee and insult-swapping among
us, while the Tramps want more cheap sexual innuendo and knob

NUMBER ONE: Can they agree on _anything_?

HELEN: Certainly. They all like the Calendar.

[DIANE and NUMBER ONE look embarrassed.]

DOUG: [looks at OTHERS] What Calendar? Am I missing

DIANE: (to DOUG, hurriedly) No, no, no! Nothing at all!

NUMBER ONE: (to DOUG) Ah, yeah. Don't worry about it,

[A light on the console begins to flash.]

NUMBER ONE: Well, let's see what Kate and Allie want. [presses


[Interior, Tegan World Order Headquarters]

[TEGAN stands behind the console, rocking slightly on her feet.
To one side, VARNE is working some controls while softly hum-
ming 'We Want the Airwaves'.]

TEGAN: Hello again, running-dogs. Are those wills to resist
crushed yet? Ready to embrace the truth of the Womyn's
Revolutionary Struggle?



NUMBER ONE: [feels of own body, then twists head] Nope. I
haven't turned into Phil Donahue. Sorry, babe.

[The OTHERS nod agreement.]



TEGAN: Well, not to worry. We've got plenty more where _that_
came from. We'll just keep monitoring Adric's sessions and cutting
in with our own material when it's appropriate.

[TEGAN reaches down and takes off her shoe, then starts banging
it on the console.]

TEGAN: You will read the posts, and _we will bury you_!

[TEGAN hits the console a bit too hard, and sparks start to fly out
of it.]

TEGAN: Oh, rabbits!



[NYSSA enters from the right, holding a glass of water. She
walks over next to NUMBER ONE.]

NYSSA: (to NUMBER ONE, brightly) Well, are you ready for
the Moment of Truth?

NUMBER ONE: (nervously) Are you sure...?

NYSSA: You haven't died or developed any obvious deformities,
so the serum should have worked. Now, behold, the genius of

[NYSSA dumps the glass of water on NUMBER ONE. NUMBER
ONE lets out a pained scream, then changes into a small dachs-

NUMBER ONE (Dachshund): Yap! Yap yap!

NYSSA: Oopsie.

DOUG: [looks at NUMBER ONE (D) and smirks] Heh. That's
no big change. He still turns into a _bitch_!

[NUMBER ONE (D) growls, jumps off the console, and starts
biting DOUG on the leg.]

DOUG: [shaking leg] Owww! Let go, damn it! Somebody get
this wiener dog off of me!

[DOUG runs off, pursued by the sound of NUMBER ONE (D)'s
yapping. With a sigh, DIANE follows a moment later.]

NYSSA: [shrugs] Ah, well. Back to the Lab for some more tests.
[walks off to the right]



[The console is on fire. TEGAN is trying without success to
smother it out with her trenchcoat. VARNE rushes on from the
left with a bucket of water. As she dumps it on the burning con-
sole, the scene goes black.]


>That's because ETs and the ancients were not mass- murdering,
>gun-toting, bloodletting scum as are the zog-vermin today.


Helen smiled as she hunched over the keyboard. With Nyssa in
her workshop and the rest of the crew in a brawl, she could finally
get back to work. She opened a Wordpad file and began to type.

"Satellite of Lust, Chapter 6..."

Notes - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

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