In the not too distant present
In Burnsville, N-C,
Dr Mad Dog Maddox and Starfleet's Sue 
Were running the E-C

But a West Coast Admiral by the name of Rob
Starfleet Academy was his job
His approval by members in Fleet outpaced
His bosses' popularity -- so they shot him into space

We'll send his cheesy SnailMail
The worst we can write (la la la)
He'll have to sit and read it all
Then ignore him out of spite (la la la)

Now keeping in mind Rob can't control
When the letters begin or end (la la la)
Because he used the BBS parts
To make his robot friends

Robot Roll Call!
Cambot! (Beaufort!)
Gypsy! (Sing, Cherryl!)
Tom Servo! (Troutman!?!)
Croooooooow! (Veitch-y guy!)

If you're wondering how they run TrekNet
And other techie facts (la la la)
Just repeat to yourself it's not sanctioned
Join the club and just relax
For Mystery Starfleet Theatre 3000!

<Fade to Dr M and SF's Sue>
SF's S: So, how was Shore Leave?
Dr M: Good bye to Ackermann and his brood. Now we can get along and
   run the Fleet.
SF's S: Did you bring me anything?
Dr M: Well, the Star League gave me this trib-owl, and,... Hey! How
   did this floral shirt get in here?
SF's S: Those meddling McAuliffans!
Dr M: It's worse. For the Sunday Morning Fleet meeting, they came in
   bathrobes and pajamas. It delayed the meeting for 45 minutes.
SF's S: Oh, Granny Elf gave this to me. You got this letter from that
   group in Missouri.
Dr M: (sighs) This guy wants to start his own Fleet Hospital Ship, but
   I checked what he wanted to call it with Linda Neighbors, and I 
   told him "No way!" Now, he's wants to know if we will let him call
   it by the full name.
SF's S: So, when it gets commissioned, it will be the USS Up Yours
   Guy and the Putrid Festering Horse You Rode On.
Dr M: Nothing gets past me. Time to call up to Rob.
SF's S: Calling Roberino... come in Rob-o-roni...

<Rob is alone with a IBM 286 PC on the table)
Rob: My invention exchange is a graphical user interface for your
   personal computer. No more typing in obscure commands. I call it, 
   "Pictures 1991".

Dr M: You think that will improve the Fleet, Rob Roy? Tell me -- can
   your computer give us lower postage rates for the Communique?
SF's Sue: Allow scholarship donations to be a tax write-off?
Dr M: That's why our invention exchange is... incorporation!
SF's S: For just a nominal fee and the re-writing of the Fleet's
   Constitution, we can be a non-profit corporation.
Dr M: Tax breaks for all the chapters!
SF's S: And run by a small Board of Directors consiting of myself, 
   Dr MadDog,...
Dr M: (whisper) Er, he told us not to tell anyone yet.
SF's S: (recovers) ...and that will lead us to the experiment.
Dr M: It's an attempt to remove Alex Rosenzweig as Regional
   Coordinator, which, unfortuanely, failed due to overwhelming 
   pressure in the Region. There's just so much a Fleet Admiral 
   can do. Send it up, Sue.
SF's S: Well, if you just _remove_ him and say to hell with the
   Region... 
<Both look at each other>
Both: nahhh... 

<Button pressed. Alarm Sounds. Rob jumps up and down.>
Rob: AHHHHH!!! SNAILMAIL SIGN!!!!!

<G...6...5...4...3...2...1...>

{And wonder what I could do with the real letter - smirk}


-----------------------------------------------------------------
Mystery Starfleet Theatre 3000 is based on the show Mystery Science
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All rights reserved.

Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for satirical
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