Danny Amor's Online Library/Danny Amor's Online Library - Volume 1.iso/html/startrek/crossover/misc/silenceisbest

Internet Message Format | 1995-08-20 | 9KB

Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!darwin.sura.net!ukma!widener!netnews.upenn.edu!netnews.cc.lehigh.edu!lafcol!learnd
From: [e-mail] (Dave Learn)
Newsgroups: alt.ensign.wesley.die.die.die,alt.startrek.creative
Subject: A Wesley story
Keywords: collab
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
Date: 4 Aug 92 23:58:03 GMT
Sender: [e-mail]
Followup-To: alt.ensign.wesley.die.die.die,alt.startrek.creative
Distribution: na
Organization: Lehigh University
Lines: 158
Nntp-Posting-Host: lafcol.lafayette.edu

Ever try a hand at collaborative writing?  It's an often dun diversion,
and it's amazing where it can go.  This little story is a take-off on
_The Silence of the Lambs_ that is up on one of Lafayette's creative
boards.  (You'll see its relevance to these groups rather soon.)


Dave Learn, Knight of the Wolves         "What an extraordinary thing to
[e-mail]                      do--and you only a stutterer."



Jody Foster in Silence is Best
by Frank Puskas

     Clarice Starling arrived and sat down in front of the plexiglas
wall staring at Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
     "Hello, doctor.  Ma name is Agent Clarice Starling and I want to
question you about sum murders."
     "Now, now, now, agent Starling.  You tell me things, I tell you
things.  Quid pro quo!  Now, what did the man in the cell next to mine
say to you when you walked by?"
     "He shaid, He shaid I ken smell yur underarm odor."
     Dr. Lecter sniffed the air and then spoke.
     "Unfortunately, Clarice, so can I."
     "Yesh doctor.  It'sh real shmelly.  I furgot my deodorant."
     "Tell me about your childhood, Clarice.  What was it like?"
     "It wush dark.  Real dark, doctor."
     Dr. Lecter, analyzing agent Starling, continued with the story,
anticipating and knowing what Clarice would say.
     "Yes, Clarice, it was dark...so dark that you almost didn't see
that "Dunkin' Donut" sign looming near the highway."
     "Yesh, doctor.  I almose didn't see it.  It wush real dark.  It
wush cold, too, doctor.  I wush runnin' real fast with the lamb in my
handshs."
     "Yes, Clarice, you ran and ran until you could run no more.  You
bit into that juicy lamb chop and slobbered on the bone."
     "Yesh, doctor.  I did.  It wush real good, doctor."
     "And then you ran into the donut shop and spooked them with your
underarm odor.  The children ran out, and they were crying.  They were
screaming!"
     "Yesh, doctor.  They ran out and screamed real loud.  And it wush
dark.  It wush cold.  My underarm wush like a wild jungle and I didn't
have no deordant.  It wush real scary, doctor."
     "Yes, Clarice, scary like the man whose donut you stole right out
from under his long, aquiline nose."
     "Quick, doctor!  Quid pro quo!  Where'sh the killer gonna shtrike
nexsht?!"


Silence is Best II
by Dave Learn

"When will the murderer strike again?" Clarice Starling said again.
She hated repeating herself, but Doctor Lecter was staring at his watch
and muttering under his breath about human body odors and something.
     "What did you say, Clarice?" asked Lecter as he raised his head.
     "I said, `When will the murder--'"  The gun cut agent Starling off
with a loud crack.  Lecter regarded her dispassionately as she slid
down onto the floor, a thick stream of blood flowing from her mouth.
Beyond her lifeless body, Lecter could see the silhouetted form of
Doctor Chilton, blowing the smoke away from the end of his pistol.
     "Quite soon, Clarice, I should think.  I should stay on my toes if
I were you," he said.
     At once, Clarice's brother Maurice walked into the dimly lit hall
where Chilton stood over Clarice's dead body.
     "You fiend!" Maurice shouted.  "How could you?  You killed her in
cold blood--my dear, beloved sister!  Oh, how could you, you evil,
twisted fiend?  She was all I had left of my family, you brute.  Now
all I have to remember her by is the billion-dollar inheritance I was
supposed to split with her next week, but now will be forced to keep to
myself.  Whatever shall I do?"  And with that, Maurice began to sob,
but Doctor Lecter thought he saw a smile on Maurice's lips.
     "You'll keep your end of the bargain, though, won't you?" said
Chilton.
     "Of course," said Maurice.  "I'll even throw in a free Bahamas
cruise for you, if you like."
     There was a sudden flash of white light at the end of the
corridor, to Lecter's right.  He turned, and was astonished to see a
T-1000 Terminator, made entirely of liquid metal, appear from the early
twenty- first century and advance on Chilton and Maurice.  The
Terminator rushed past, taking time only to transform his arm into a
huge metal scythe that swung and cut a support beam.
     A strange lump arose in Lecter's throat as the wall groaned.
     Down the hall appeared (in a flash of white similar to the one
mentioned above) the new, experimental T-1,000,000, made entirely of
vaporized metal, fresh from the thirtieth century.  It advanced on
Chilton and Maurice, but suddenly found itself threatened by the
T-1000, which had been reprogrammed by the human resistance to fight
the T-1,000,000 and prevent it from murdering Maurice.  The T-1000 had
also been programmed to take orders from Maurice (except where its
refusal would help advance or wrap up the plot) and to let itself be
destroyed once the T-1,000,000 had been destroyed.  The two Terminators
locked into battle and the fight began in earnest.
     While they stood fighting and Maurice's knees knocked cravenly
(thus revealing him to a be an absolute coward who was afraid of being
destroyed rather painfully by a sadistic computer-spawned murdering
machine from Hell), the building groaned again.  Lecter looked up,
convinced it was about to cave in.
     Suddenly, in the midst of all this confusion and mayhem, who
should appear, but . . . Cadet Wesley Crusher!  Looking rather out of
place and confused, Academy student Wesley Crusher narrowly escaped
being killed by the two Terminators.  He walked up to closest thing to
a normal human and began talking to him.
     "Where am I, sir?" said Wesley.
     "Oh come now," said Lecter.  "You tell me what I want to know,
I'll tell you what you want to know.  Quid pro quo.  Tell me about your
childhood...."


Silence is Best III: Broken Silence
by Frank Puskas

"Quid pro quo, Mr. Crusher.  It's very simple.  Sit down, but please,
mind the drawings," said Dr. Lecter to Cadet Crusher, who carefully
avoided disturbing some drawings of restraint devices.
     "Well," began Wesley while looking at the floor, "it was dark.
Real dark.  It was cold, too."
     "Yess.  So cold that you......"


Silence is Best IV: It's Golden Too
by Dave Learn

"So cold that you couldn't feel the keyboard you were typing on," said
Doctor Lecter.
     "Yes.  My fingers were ready to fall off from the cold air in the
Skillman Library computer room," Wesley said.  He shivered at the
memory (though nowhere near as hard as the students unfortunate enough
to work in Skillman Library in anything less than sub-Arctic parkas).
     Doctor Lecter nodded.  "And it was dark.  You couldn't see the
huge frozen sides of beef the Farinon food court had hung there when
their own freezer space had been used up."
     "No, I couldn't, sir," Wesley admitted, more than a little
confused about what was going on.  In the background, the Terminators
continued their fight over the snivelling Maurice Starling.  Doctor
Chilton, at least, had the sense to leave.
     Wes continued.  "It was dark, sir, very dark.  I didn't see
Commander Riker and the away team coming after me with their phasers
set on `obliterate.'"
     "And the noise," Doctor Lecter prodded.
     "The noise was unbearable," said Wesley.  "All those Star Trek
fans, clamoring for my blood.  They wanted me to be dropped in acid,
stepped on by Worf, fired out the photon tubes . . ."  He began to cry
freely now, as he realized that no matter how many times the writers
revamped his personality, no self-respecting TRIBBLE, let alone an
honest-to-gosh FEMALE, would ever want to go out with him.  No Star
Trek fan would EVER like him, and there would never cease to be
comparisons between him and Will Robinson of "Lost in Space."  The pain
was burned in too deep for Wesley to cope.  He lowered his head and
burst out into fresh tears.
     "Quid pro quo, Ensign Weasel," said Doctor Lecter.  "You're in an
insane asylum."
     At that precise moment in the twenty-fourth century, Wesley's
classmates decided fun was fun and all very nice, but it was time to
bring him back.  But as their chrono-sensors detected the second person
in the cell, they decided he might be more interesting to beam back.
As Wesley looked on, horrified, Doctor Lecter was beamed out of his
cell and into Wesley's room at Star Fleet Academy.