This page last updated 23 November 1999

Enter Prize

by Rob Miracle (RWMIRA01@ULKYVX.BITNET)
10 February 1989

Space ... The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the starship, Enter-Prize. Its ongoing mission, to exploit poor families, to seek out new lists and subscriptions, to boldly promote contests that no one has won before.

Scene Enter-Prize Bridge.

Picard:

Crusher, lay in a course for Promo IV.

Wesley:

Aye-aye Captain. Course for Promo IV laid in. It will take 17 hours at warp 7, Sir.

Data:

Precisely, 17 hours, 2 minutes, 4.03949494 ...

Picard:

Data! (Data shuts up) Boy, make it so.

The turbo lift door opens, Dr. Kate Pulaski and her pet Doberman Pincher step onto the bridge.

Dog:

(to Worf) Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Worf:

(to Dog) GRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Dog:

Whimper whimper whimper.

Pulaski:

Seems you two have a lot in common. (Leaves the dog with Worf. Worf has a puzzled look on his face). Well Jean-Luc-ky dear, what virus am I to discover this time?

Picard:

The dreaded Lotto Virus has struck Promo IV. All of its inhabitants are spending their money on games of chance.

Pulaski:

Damn it Jean, I'm a doctor, not a marketing rep.

Picard:

Katherine, it is not a medical emergency, at least not yet. Data, how is that mailing list coming along?

Data:

Processing now. I estimate that it will complete15 minutes, 18 seconds before arrival.

Wesley:

Data, did you figure in the probability of a label jam?

Data:

Naturally, my dear Watson, I mean Wesley.

Geordi:

(Over the Intercom) Data, a label just gummed up the printer! There are labels all over engineering now.

Data:

Can you fix it?

Geordi:

No, I'm glued to this engineering panel at the moment!

Data:

On my way, Geordi.

Worf:

Captain, I have a priority mail one message from Starfleet Contest Command.

Picard:

I will take it in my office. (Walks over to the security station, takes the comm panel and heads to the Ready Room).

Worf:

Yes Sir. (To Dog) Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Dog:

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The dog raises it's left hind leg.

Worf:

Strange custom. Doctor, is it normal for your pets to make yellow puddles on a starship bridge?

In his ready room, Picard looks at the comm panel and enters his security code. A visage appears on the monitor.

Picard:

Admiral McMahon, what an honour!

McMahon:

Cut the chatter Picard. This is a serious issue. Do you have all of the envelopes ready with my picture on them?

Picard:

Yes Sir, we are printing the labels now.

McMahon:

Good, we do not have a second to spare. Each minute the citizens of Promo IV are taking our money and giving it to their governments. We must get this contest under way as soon as possible. Remember, sell magazines. This billion credit give-away is the biggest ever. Look for the envelope with my picture on it!

Scene of Enter-Prize orbiting Promo IV.

Wesley:

Sir, we have arrived at Promo IV. It is a class M planet in Vegas-Gambla System. The location with the most activity is a city called Atlantic.

Troi:

I feel anticipation and greed, Captain. Greed is a rather interesting emotion. It is a pleasant change. It's better than Riker trying to be a stud.

Picard:

A wall stud?

Troi:

That is about how effective he is, sir.

Riker enters.

Riker:

Away team ready Sir!

Picard:

Good Number One, who are you taking?

Riker:

Well, we are taking Data for statistical analysis, Troi as a spokeswoman, and that new guy, Cliff Clavin. He is a parcel relocation specialist.

Pulaski:

With all of his hurt-feeling circuits, is there any room in there for a statistical package?

Troi:

Should we not also take Dr. Haul. Monty is a specialist at contest promotions.

Picard:

Good thinking, Deanna. Make it so.

Shot of Promo IV as the away team materialises.

Troi:

For a moment, I felt as if I was inside that random number generator?

Haul:

But was it generator number 1 ... number 2 ... or dice number 3?

Clavin:

Hey, ah Deanna, darling. How's about you and me goin' out to Cheers, er 10 Forward after this mission.

Troi:

I am flattered, Cliff, but I have no desire ...

Clavin:

I know you think that I am not good enough. Well I take pride in my uniform. This eagle represents the finest men of the force.

Troi:

Cliff, that is not what I meant. If we go to Cheers, I will have to face that half Romulan half Vulcan manager whose constant changing emotions would short circuit my empathy.

Clavin:

Oh, maybe later.

Troi:

Yes, maybe later.

Clavin:

(under his breath) She likes me!

Troi displays anguish.

Data to Riker:

Sir, I have a bearing on a distribution point. It is 4 kilometres at 189 mark 3.

Riker:

Good, Data. Lets go.

As they walk though this mid sized city, they see at every store long lines of people, mostly Ferengi holding lots of currency in their hands.

Clavin:

That's it there Will. I'd recognise a post office anywhere.

Data:

Ensign Clavin, I find your use of language most fascinating.

Clavin:

Well someday, Data, you will be more like the ladies man that I am.

Troi winces, Riker rolls his eyes.

The away team enters the doors of the Atlantic City Post Office.

Clerk:

May I help you?

Riker:

Yes, we would like to distribute this material to the people on the labels.

Clerk:

I'm sorry, distribution of this material is strictly forbidden by our parcel distribution codes. Besides, they are not sorted by Zip Code.

Clavin:

Let me handle her.

Cliff walks up to her, rotates his shoulders in a quasi-macho way.

Clavin:

You are a disgrace to that uniform. The uniform is a symbol of pride and dedication to deliver to the customers the best service that we can. And you kinda fill it well.

Cliff kisses her. She passes out.

Clavin:

You can ah, just drop them in that slot there.

Suddenly, a loud whirrr sounds and the away team is stunned.

The away team awakens and looks around. They are in a plush room. Three human men and a Vulcan are surrounded by many beautiful women.

Riker:

Data, who are these men?

Data:

The one on the left is a former independent trader, named Cyrano Jones. His most famous escapade was when he distributed tribbles to a bunch of Klingons. You see, Klingon ...

Riker:

Data, get on with it.

Data:

The second man, has several names, most Starfleet records list him as Harcort Fenton Mudd. Next to him, why it is Admiral Kirk. He was commander of the Enterprise long ago.

Riker:

How interesting.

Troi rips off her clothes and runs and does a flying body tackle at Kirk.

Data:

And the Vulcan is called Spock. He was a legend. (Aside: But I am better than him). Commander Troi, is that some custom that I have not been programmed for?

Mudd:

You have been found guilty of distributing unlicensed Starfleet Clearing House sweepstakes. How do you plead.

Riker:

But Admiral, how could you work with these scoundrels?

Kirk looks perturbed, since this conversation is disturbing him and Troi.

Kirk:

You have to do something after you retire. (Kirk points around him to the women). You could say I died and went to heaven.

Data and Spock engage in a game of 3D Chess, for money of course. Data loses 5 games and the shirt on his back within 2 minutes.

Kirk:

You see, oh bearded one, ever since I invented Fisben I have had a desire, you could call it, to use it for something other than saving the ship. It is what started this thing. Spock computes the games for us, so we make a profit and the people are willing to still play. Your no-win contests are a thing of the past.

Mudd:

He always tells the truth.

Kirk:

I am lying.

Data starts to work on the last phrase and short circuits.

Riker:

That will not work on me, I am not a computer.

Kirk:

Well try this one: Troi says you are insignificant. Even Wesley is better than you.

Riker melts as his ego is destroyed

Kirk:

We have a present for your captain. Please take this back to him as a present.

Kirk points to a tubular chamber.

Spock:

What is your captain's name?

Clavin:

That would be Picard.

Spock keys in some information. The chamber rotates to reveal a female android resembling Beverly Crusher.

Kirk:

We took this design from one made by Harry. Zelda Mudd, his wife was the model. Naturally, we needed a more attractive model, so we used this one.

The crew beams up with the android, a busted Data, a shot down Riker, and a very happy Troi.

Troi:

I feel ... satisfied.

Picard:

What is this?

He points to the Beverly Crusher android. It speaks, but with Zelda Mudd's voice.

Android:

Peeee-card! Jean-Luc Peeee-card! You womanising Neanderthal. If you would pay more attention to me and not your ...

 

The show naturally ends abruptly before anyone can sa ...