to let my
show lose. It just wasnât going to happen. Especially not to Voyager â
er, Vâger, I mean.â
I pause, and look out at the crowd. I wonder if Mr. âVâgerâ is out there.
âSo I went into my office, sat at my computer for 72 straight hours, and voted for TNG over and over again.
âI didnât eat, and I didnât sleep. I just sat there, stinky in my own filth, clicking and
hitting F5, a Howard Hughes for The Next Generation.
âSome time around the 71st hour, my wife realized that she hadnât seen me in awhile and
started knocking on the door to see what I was doing.
ââNothing! Iâm, uh, working!â I shouted through the door. Click, Click, Click . . .
âI donât believe you! Tell me what youâve been doing at the computer for so long!â
âI didnât want her to know what I was doing â I mean, it was terribly embarrassing . . . I
had been sitting there, in crusty pajamas, voting in the Star Trek poll
for three days.â
Some people make gagging noises, some people âeeww!â But itâs all in good fun. They are
really along for the ride, now. This is cool.
âShe jiggled the handle, kicked at the bottom of the door, and it popped open!â
The audience gasps.
âI hurriedly shut down Mozilla, and spun around in my chair.
ââWhat have you been doing on this computer for three days, Wil?â she said.â
I look out across the audience, and pause dramatically. I lower my voice and
confidentially say, âI was not about to admit the embarrassing truth, so I quickly said, âIâve
been downloading porn, honey! Gigabytes of porn!ââ
I have to stop, because the ballroom rocks with laughter. Itâs a genuine applause
break!
âShe was not amused. âTell me the truth,â she said.
âI sighed, and told her that Iâd been stuffing the ballot box in an online Star
Trek poll.
ââYou are such a dork. Iâd have been happier with the porn.â
âI brightened. âReally?â
ââNo,â she said. She set a plate of cold food on the desk and walked out, muttering
something about nerds.
âI stayed in that office for another ten hours, just to be sure. When my eyes began to
bleed, I finally walked away. It took several weeks of physical therapy before I could walk
correctly again, but it was all worth it. Best of Both Worlds Part II won
by a landslide.â
I pause dramatically, and the theatre is silent.
âAnd it had nothing to do with my stuffing the box. Itâs because Next Generation FUCKING RULES!â
I throw my hand into the air, making the âdevil hornsâ salute that adorns my satanic
T-shirt, and the audience leaps to their feet, roaring with applause and laughter.
I canât believe it. I got them back. I say thank you, give the microphone to Dave Scott,
who is now sitting on the stage pointedly checking his watch, and exit, stage left.
I walk down the hallway, and meet my cast.
âMan, they loved you, then they hated you,â Kevin says, âbut you made them love you again!
Youâre good, man.â
âThanks,â I say, âI think it mostly sucked, but the end was fun. Letâs eat, and get ready
for the show. Weâve got to be in the theatre in 90 minutes.â
Weâve all performed on the ACME stage many times together, but weâve never performed this
lineup of sketches. Theyâve never performed in front of Trekkies before; matter of fact, most
of them donât even watch Star Trek , and this convention is their first
experience with the show, and its unique following. The guy who is doing our music and our
lights has never seen our sketch show, or read our scripts. Itâs just over an hour until our
stage call, and there are far too many uncertainties. I begin to freak out. Somehow,
M. William Phelps
Bethany-Kris
Matthue Roth
Lynn Raye Harris
Laury Falter
Darlene Panzera
Stolen Charms
Blake Pierce
Richard Parks
Johnny O'Brien