From: "Chuck" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.vs.starwars Subject: [FANFIC] ASVS, the Musical Date: Tue, 22 Feb 2000 18:58:04 -0600 Chuck slid silently through the swinging barroom doors into the only open tavern in ASVSland, his eyes swiveling about in case of danger. Fortunately, the place was a little quieter than usual, and he walked up to the bar, past Karrde, who was drinking with both hands, past Edam who had had so many even he didn't know how many names he had. Brushing some crumbs off the stool, Chuck took a seat. "Brandy," he remarked to Dalton behind the bar who was turning over some Ewok burgers on the grill. He took the cigar out from between his teeth and shook a few ashes onto the grill, then turned and poured the drink. "Been a long day," he asked. "And how," Chuck replied. "I just finished some more Voyager reviews. Man, I can't believe some of the crap being made with the name Star Trek on it." "All of it," Dalton remarked with a smirk, tossing a burger in the air with the spatula. It missed the grill and landed on the floor. Dalton picked it up and put it back on the grill. "No, really. I mean, some of the stuff is just pure crap, a friggin' disgrace." He stopped as Strowbridge picked up a chair in both hands. "Boogers! I'll show you some fucking boogers!!!!!" The chair came smashing down on the table, shattering both pieces of furniture. Somehow Elim the raven had ducked out of the way and fluttered over to the barroom door. "" he said, and flitted off. As he watched Strowbridge tear through the doors after him, Chuck turned back to Dalton. "You must go through a fortune in chairs," he commented. "I bought a furniture store," Dalton said, putting the finishiing touches on the Ewok burger. He either didn't notice or didn't care about the bandaid that fell off his finger onto the burger as he placed the top bun and passed it over to Paul. "Enjoy. I made it especially for you." "Ah dohne wanna tok to you whai-tear. Jes breng me mah fuhd." "Done. Hope you enjoy." Chuck was watching the scene with mild interest when he felt the barrel of a gun in the small of his back. A slow glance at the mirror revealed the owner without forcing him to try to turn. "ShoelessJoe," Chuck said in a low voice. "I thought you were run outta town." "I'm just checking on my old stumping grounds," he replied, his teeth clenched 'round his cigarrette. "You seem to got one or two things to say." Chuck turned around slowly, hands spread out to show he was unarmed. "Anything specific?" Joe took a step back, seating himself with one leg propped up on a bar stool, the gun never leaving Chuck. "Heard that little comment you made about the gays." Chuck was surprised. "I didn't say anything...... oh, you mean the FAQ thing. I didn't say anything about gays, just that we weren't gay." "Call it what you will," Joe said, "But I got no tolerance for no homophobes." "Well, you want me to say we are gay?" "No!" "Then what's wrong with me saying we aren't?" Joe paused. "It's just the way you said it." "Well, I'm sorry." Chuck's eyes remained on the gun. Joe probably wouldn't shoot, but there was no sense in taking chances. "Sorry ain't good enough!" Joe said, pulling his foot off the stool. Suddenly he was quiet, and Chuck felt the seconds ticking by. Then, there was a metallic sound, and for a moment he thought the gun might have misfired, but then he saw the glock pointed at Joe's temple. Marina nodded to him. "I think you wanna drop that." Joe made no moves, but his lips curled into a smile. "Triggers cocked. Slightest gesture and this baby goes off. I don't think you want that to happen." "Chuck's no homophobe," Marina said. "And I say this ain't none a your business." "Well I'm making it my business." There was a sound of sliding metal locking into place, and Chuck saw the shotgun. "Face it Joe," Dalton said, "either both of you get out alive or neither." Suddenly a tortoise stepped through the door. "What'd ya do that for?" he said to Dalton. "Huh?" "Why'd you do that, immature whelp?" Chuck looked over at Dalton. "Friend of yours?" Suddenly there was a flicker of recognition. "Oh yeah, Virus-x. I kicked him out the door about two weeks ago. Must've taken him this long to crawl back." Dalton, still keeping the gun trained on Joe, stepped out from behind the bar. "I'll have you know-" thump; the tortoise went flying through the air and disappearing in the distance. "Alright, where were we." Chuck sighed. "Alright. Allow me to demonstrate my good faith, and proof to you that your allegations are baseless." Joe cocked an eyebrow. "How do you plan to do that?" Chuck slowly stood up, pulling himself up to his full height. His voice was a deep rumble. "Showtunes." There was a hush, followed by mutterings throughout the bar. Joe nodded. "Alright. Showtunes it is. But no funny stuff." Chuck took a running leap up onto the stage and turned to face the crowd. His tie was gone, and he pulled at his shirt, stretching out the fabric in places along the sleeves, until it was billowing. He snapped his fingers, and several men in pirate costumes came out. Some wore Spock ears, some wore visers, others wore Klingon make-up. One had a Ferengi head. Chuck signalled to the band as his Chorus formed up, "Pirates of Penzance!" he ordered. Immediately the band started playing, and he stepped out. "Ladies and gentlemen, I tell you that, a Trekkies lot is not a happy one!" And then he began to sing. [Chuck]When a Trekkie looks about he is uncertain [CHORUS]Is uncertain [Chuck]Of whether his franchise will sink or float [CHORUS]Sink or float [Chuck]When we've lost our DS9 and Captain Ben [CHORUS]Captain Ben [Chuck]And are stuck with Captain Janeway and her boat [CHORUS]And her boat [Chuck]Because we know that Trek's not what it was [CHORUS]What it was [Chuck]For now we must accept that Gene is dead [CHORUS]Gene is dead [Chuck]But it's hard to when you see what Berman does [CHORUS]Berman does [Chuck]And when Brannon Braga's messing with your head [CHORUS]With your head [ALL]Ah, when Trek fans look and see just what they've done, what they've done A Trekkies lot is not a happy one, happy one. [Chuck]But I consider what brought such appeal [CHORUS]Such appeal [Chuck]And remember Captain Kirk and what he'd done [CHORUS]What he'd done [Chuck]The ship's effects quite true were never real [CHORUS]Never real [Chuck]But it mattered not, at least the show was fun [CHORUS]Show was fun [Chuck]But now the show seems to have passed away [CHORUS]Passed away [Chuck]Along with Kelley our beloved "Bones" [CHORUS] 'Loved Bones [Chuck]And now the fans have found they've lost their way [CHORUS]Lost their way [Chuck]Embarrassed by their comrade Timmy Jones [CHORUS]Timmy Jones [ALL]Ah, I see old Timmy Jones oh where's my gun, where's my gun A Trekkies lot is not a happy one, happy one. [Chuck]And now the faithful few all stand together [CHORUS]Stand together [Chuck]And wonder if there's naught that can be done [CHORUS]Can be done [Chuck]Is this a storm that our dear show can weather? [CHORUS]Show can weather [Chuck]Or does this mark the ending of its run? [CHORUS]Of its run [Chuck]For Voyager is all that we have left [CHORUS]We have left [Chuck]And its ratings as you know are in the pits [CHORUS]In the pits [Chuck]A load that even Rock perhaps can't heft [CHORUS]Rock can't heft [Chuck]Nevermind the borg with her protruding tits [CHORUS]'truding tits [ALL]Ah, a borg with titties oh that can be fun, can be fun A Trekkies lot is not a happy one, happy one. And just as suddenly as it had started, the music cut out. Joe nodded his head in approval. "Alright, alright, I believe you, so I'll let you off the hook this time. But you better watch your step." And he turned and stepped out of the bar. With everything finally approaching normalcy, Chuck stepped over Karrde's unconscious form back to his stool and took a long drink. His mouth full he tapped with his index finger as Dalton started pouring a second. He was already working on the second as he watched the priest and the rabbi walk in. "What is this, a joke?" Dalton asked. -- Chuck