From: Paul Winalski (winalski eccles
Subject: Goon Trek: The Next Degeneration - completed (long)
Date: 2000-11-01 16:44:44 PST
Here's the complete, full half-hour, talking-type wireless
Goon Trek script.  Comments appreciated.  Enjoy!

Goon Trek: The Next Degeneration

Dramatis Personae
The Goon Show vocal characterisation is shown in parentheses where this
differs from the character's name in the plot.  Where the performer's
name is shown in the script it means that he is using his natural voice
as opposed to being in-character.

        Jim La Forge (Spriggs), Chief Engineer of the Starship
        Eccles, android Science Officer of the Boobyprize
        Count Jim 'Ears' Moriarty, Ferengi scoundrel
        the Boobyprize Computer voice (Minnie Bannister)

        Captain Ned Picard (Neddie Seagoon), Star Fleet charlie in
            command of the Boobyprize
        Old Uncle Oscar, a senile computer personality

        Gene Roddenberry (Lew), creator of Star Trek
        Commander Riker (Eidelburger), First Officer of the Boobyprize
        Flowerdew, Helmsman of the Boobyprize
        Grytpype-Q (Grytpype-Thynne), advanced being from the Q
        Henry Crun, a Computer Technician aboard the Boobyprize
        Willium, an elderly Cockney computer persona
        Wesley Crusher (Bluebottle), annoying young smart-ass twit
        Bill Gates (impression), spokesman for the Borg Collective

        Ellinga, Klingoon Weapons and Security Officer of the Boobyprize
        Chief O'Brien, Transporter Chief of the Boobyprize

JOHN SNAGGE (pre-recorded) plays:
        the voice of Star Fleet Computer Diagnostics


Greenslade:  This is BBC Radio 4.

Secombe:     Radio 4?  What's Radio 4?

Greenslade:  It's for performers who are too ugly for television.

Secombe:     (raspberry)

Greenslade:  Tonight we present a thrilling science fiction drama--
             Goon Trek: The Next Degeneration.

Secombe:     Yes, folks!  These are the voyages of the Starship
             Boobyprize, her continuing mission to explore strange
             new comedy material, to seek out new night life and
             new uncivilised depths of lunacy, to baldly...

Sellers:     Ohh!  The Phantom Head Shaver's struck again.

Secombe:     (ahem) To baldly go where no Goon Show has gone before.

GRAMS:       ("Star Trek: The Next Generation" theme, speeded-up and
             then faded out)

Ned Picard:  (megaphone) Hello, folks!  Star Fleet Captain Ned Picard
             speaking to you from the twenty-fourth century, folks.
             The old leather speaking trumpet works as well as ever,
             folks.  Ha ha ha.

Roddenberry: A Welsh captain, already?  He's supposed to be French.
             And I thought we were gonna get that bald geezer who
             does all that Shakespeare lark.  My life!

Picard:      Shut up, Mr. Roddenberry.  Get back in your grave and
             stop all that naughty rolling over.

Roddenberry: (fades off muttering)

Picard:      Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Now to dictate to my log.

Eccles:      (sings) I talk to the trees, dat's why dey put me away.

Picard:      Shut up, Eccles.  You're not on yet.

Eccles:      Oh.

Picard:      And here's the modern Minnie Computer saying it.  Computer.

Computer:    Mm... yes, buddy?

Picard:      What did I just say?

Computer:    Ohh... the hard ones first, eh, buddy?  Mm... let me
             think... (sings) Yim bom balla boo... red hot starship
             rhytthm... (fades)

GRAMS:       (sound of large cogs turning somewhere in the bowels of the

Picard:      Oh, well.  Back to my log.  Captain's log, stardate
             36-24-36.  And what a date she was, folks!  Oho ho.  I have
             assumed command of the Starship Boobyprize.  My new First
             Officer introduced me to the crew.

Riker:       Guten tag, mein Captain.  I am your First Officer,
             Commander Riker.

Picard:      Pleased to meet you.  You're German?

Riker:       Ja.  Mein ancestor enlisted in ze German Army in 1938,
             where he joined his two older brothers.

Picard:      You're not going to tell me he was a Third Reicher?

Riker:       Nein.  You wouldn't want to know that.

Picard:      Neither would the audience.  Where's the Chief Engineering

La Forge:    Lieutenant Commander Jim La Forge here, sir.  Jim La

Picard:      Isn't he supposed to be Geordi?

Riker:       Ja.  But Milligan couldn't manage the accent.

Picard:      I see.

Riker:       *He* doesn't.

La Forge:    (raspberry)

Picard:      And what about that android Science Officer?  Where is he?

Eccles:      Yumpa dumpa dumpa dumpa dum.  (pause) Hallo, Captain.

Picard:      (amazed) *You're* Data?

Eccles:      No, I'm Eccles.  My creator Dr. Sung made three androids.
             First he created Lore.  And den...

Picard:      Yes?

Eccles:      He created Data.  And den...

Picard:      Yes?

Eccles:      He created me, Eccles.  And den...

Picard:      Then what?

Eccles:      He shot himself.

Picard:      Yes.  And I'm not surprised, either.

Eccles:      What what?  Hey, you just watch what you say, sir.  I've
             got a positronic brain, y'know.

Picard:      A positronic brain?

Eccles:      Yah.  My brain circuitry uses positrons.

Picard:      But but... that's antimatter.  When positrons encounter
             normal matter they annihilate, leaving nothing but a
             vacuum.  (pause) Yes.  I see.  Now, don't we have a
             Klingoon Weapons and Security Officer?

Ellinga:     Me Ellinga, sir!  Me strong!  Me very strong!  Me killum!

Picard:      Ellinga?  What about Worf?

La Forge:    We don't need one, Jeem sir.  Starships use docking rings
             and airlocks.

Picard:      Oh, right.  Where's the Ship's Counsellor?

Riker:       Here she is, sir.  Counsellor Sabrina Troi.

Eccles:      (lecherous) Oh ho ho ho!

Picard:      Sabrina?  I thought Twiggy was cast for the role.

Riker:       She was, but after reading the script she complained that
             the Counsellor should have bigger parts.

Picard:      And they don't come much bigger than that, I can tell you.
             Oho ho.  Clearly if anyone in the crew has emotional
             problems it will be Troi, Troi, and Troi again.

ORCHESTRA:   (thin chord; cymbal crash)

Riker:       Ja, sir.  After all, she is a Betazoid empath.

Picard:      An empath?

Riker:       Ja.  She feels with others.

Picard:      Feels with others?

Riker:       Ja, sir.  She has to.  She conducts all her counselling
             sessions in the dark.

Picard:      How jolly for her.  (aside) And for the crew member, too.
             (normal) Well, that's the crew introductions over with.
             Number One, it's time to start our mission.

Riker:       Ja wohl, mein Captain.  Helmsman Flewerdew.

Flowerdew:   Yes, sir?

Riker:       Set a course for Starbase 13.  Warp factor 3.

Picard:      Make it so.

Flowerdew:   Yes, sir.  Just a moment while I thread the machine.

GRAMS:       (sewing machine, starting slowly then speeded up and faded

ORCHESTRA:   (Wally Stott corny arrangement of Star Trek theme)

Picard:      Halfway to the Starbase.  Any sign of a plot on the short-
             range sensors?

La Forge:    I can't say, sir.

Picard:      Why not?

La Forge:    The short-range censors have cut my next line.

Picard:      Well, try the long-range sensors, then.

La Forge:    The long-range censors cut the next three pages of the

Picard:      Oh, well.  Keep trying.  There must be a plot out there

GRAMS:       (electronic sensor scan noises)

La Forge:    (over) Found something, Jeem.  It's a subspace disturbance.

Picard:      Excellent.  Get it on visual.

Riker:       We can't, sir.  This is a radio show.

Picard:      Well, get it on audio, then.

GRAMS:       (Fred the Oyster)

Picard:      That's quite the disturbance.  It won't make much of a
             plot but it'll have to do.  O'Brien?

O'Brien:     (on intercom) Yes, sir, begorra.

Picard:      Beam that plot aboard.

O'Brien:     (on intercom) Difficult, sir--it's at the very edge of
             transporter range.

Picard:      (triumphant) Just what we need--a far-fetched plot!

ORCHESTRA:   (thin chord; cymbal crash)

GRAMS:       (transporter noises, speeded up and slowed down)

O'Brien:     (over, on intercom) There's been a malfunction, sir.  The
             plot has been beamed directly to Engineering.

Picard:      Quick, after it.

Computer:    Intruder alert!  Intruder alert!  Intruder detected in
             Main Engineering.  Ohh, we'll all be murdered in our

Picard:      Eccles, Mr. La Forge, come with me to Engineering.  Riker,
             you have the con.

Riker:       Ja wohl.

ORCHESTRA:   (dramatic descending chords)

GRAMS:       (Engineering-type noises; hold under next dialogue)

Greenslade:  In main Engineering they find four identical men and a
             female manikin.

Q:           Greetings, Captain Picard.  We are Hercules Grytpype-Q, of
             the Continuum.  We are Q.

Picard:      I wondered why you were standing in line.

Q:           Yes.  I am one-Q.

GRAMS:       (speeded up Grytpype voice saying "I am two-Q", then even
             more speeded-up Grytpype voice saying "I am three-Q")

Picard:      And what about the fourth one?

Q:           The BBC won't let us continue.

Milligan:    (off) Work it out on your own, folks.

Picard:      What about the dummy?

Q:           He's your Science Officer.

Eccles:      What what what?  I heard dat!

Picard:      Shut up, Eccles.

Eccles:      (off) Shut up, Eccles.  Shut up... (fades)

Computer:    (triumphantly) That's it!  That was it!  That's what you
             said earlier, buddy.

Picard:      Shut up, computer.

Computer:    Ohh.

Picard:      No, Q, I meant that female manikin.

Q:           Oh, I'm bringing her back to the Continuum for my daughter,
             Suzy-Q.  This is just a fashion doll for girls.

La Forge:    Ah, I see, Jeem.  (triumphant) Barbie-Q!

ORCHESTRA:   (thin chord; cymbal crash)

Sellers:     (off) I say, kindly leave the galaxy.

GRAMS:       4 whooshes

Picard:      (aside) Suddenly three of them and the manikin vanished in
             a flash of light.  (normal) Where did those other three go?

Q:           Back to the Continuum.  I don't need them for any more of
             the jokes.

Picard:      Oh.  I say, you're dressed very strangely.  Why are you
             wearing a billiard player's suit?

Q:           It's a costume, really.  I'm on my way to a fancy-dress
             dance party.

La Forge:    I see, Jiim.  A Q ball!

Q:           The audience won't stand for much more of this.

GRAMS:       (stampede of many boots retreating)

Picard:      (over) You're right-there they go now.  But what are you
             doing here?  Our sensors indicated a plot.

Q:           Yes, and here it is, Ned.  We Q are omniscient,
             omnipresent, and omnipotent.  That's why we gallivant
             across the universe tormenting inferior life forms like
             you and your crew.

Picard:      What what what what what what what what what what?

Q:           (snaps fingers)

Picard:      (clucks like chicken)

La Forge:    (over) Oh, Jeem!  Turn him back to normal at once.

Q:           (over clucking) Even I can't turn him to *normal*--the best
             I can do is to put him back the way he was.  (snaps

Picard:      (stops clucking)

Q:           There.

Picard:      Ohh.  (sneezes) I'm allergic to feathers.  Now what about
             that plot?

Q:           Here it is.  (snaps fingers)

Picard:      There was a sudden flash of light and a blur around the
             warp core.  At the same time a figure appeared next to Q.
             A Ferengi.

La Forge:    Oh, Jeem!  He's replaced the dilithium crystals with gold-
             pressed latinum.  Lati-nuuuum!  Lati-nuum!

Q:           Correct.  Now let me introduce Count Jim 'Ears'...

Moriarty:    Owww.

Q:           Moriarty of the Ferengi Trading Association.

Moriarty:    Mon pleasure, mon pleasure.

Q:           The steamed Count is the inventor of the latinum warp

Moriarty:    What?  But I...

Q:           (aside to Moriarty) Quiet, or you'll spoil everything.
             (ahem) (aloud) I have agreed to let him test his invention
             on your starship.  Your engines are now five hundred
             percent more efficient, allowing you to get into five
             hundred percent more trouble, thus affording me five
             hundred percent more amusement.

Picard:      Excellent.  This will shorten our trip to Starbase 13.
             Back to the bridge, gentlemen.

GRAMS:       3 whooshes

Q:           They've gone.  Now this is my plan, Moriarty.  Listen
             carefully.  You must follow it to the letter.

Moriarty:    Owww.  Why must I always follow you?

Q:           You steaming fool.  Remember your spelling.  'U' *always*
             follows 'Q'.

Moriarty:    That's not grammatical.

Q:           Mm.  It's not very funny, either.

Moriarty:    But you said you'd smuggle me and my gold-pressed latinum
             into Starbase 13.  What am I doing aboard the Boobyprize?
             What trick is this, Grytpype?  What trick is this?

FX:          slapstick

Moriarty:    (yelps in pain) Ohoww!

Q:           Silence, you miserable Ferengi steamer.  What better way to
             get into the Starbase than on board a starship, eh?  The
             Federation rozzers won't suspect a thing.

Moriarty:    Oho.

Q:           And then once aboard the Starbase, you simply remove your
             latinum from the warp core.

Moriarty:    Owww, the money, the grisbi, the...  But wait, how do I get
             the latinum out of the warp core?

Q:           Come now, Moriarty.  You can't expect me to give away the
             whole plot at once.

Moriarty:    Why not?

Q:           It wouldn't be fair to the listeners.

Moriarty:    Since when has that ever stopped us?

Q:           Silence.  Now, I'll leave you to your own devices.  So
             long... charlie.  Aha ha ha.  (snaps fingers)

Moriarty:    He's gone.  I must find a way to get the latinum out of the
             warp core.  I must think.  Meanwhile, here's Max Geldray.

Geldray:     Ploogie!

Sellers:     (off) Round the back for the old Antarean brandy, there!

GRAMS:       (boots quickly retreating)

MUSIC:       (Max Geldray and orchestra)

ORCHESTRA:   (Star Trek-type travel music)

Greenslade:  Star Trek, part two.  The Boobyprize continues her journey
             to Starbase 13 using the new latinum warp drive.  Then
             suddenly, trouble in Engineering.

ORCHESTRA:   dramatic chords

GRAMS:       (sewing machine speeded up and slowed down, gradually
             getting slower and slower; continues under next dialogue)

Riker:       There seems to be an engine malfunction, sir.

Picard:      Mr. La Forge.

La Forge:    (on intercom) Yes, Jeem?

Picard:      We seem to be losing speed.  What's going on?

La Forge:    Oh, Jeem!  The warp drive is converting the gold-pressed
             latinum to euros.  It's now operating entirely within the
             euro zone.

Picard:      Euros?

La Forge:    Yes, Jeem.  And they're losing power.  There's been a
             thirty percent devaluation already, sir.

Picard:      Can't we intervene to stop it?

Riker:       They tried that in the early twenty-first century, sir.  It
             was ineffective.

Picard:      Well, we should still be able to limp to the Starbase.

GRAMS:       (sewing machine noises suddenly cut out)

FX:          cod duck call

Flowerdew:   We've stopped, sir.

Picard:      Mr. La Forge, report.

La Forge:    (on intercom) Oh, Jeem!  Disaster!  A transportation
             strike is affecting the entire euro zone, sir.  We're
             adrift in space.

Picard:      And on top of that, we've suddenly all turned dark red.

Ellinga:     Speak for yourself, cor blimey.

Eccles:      Ohhh.  We've been *marooned*!

Picard:      What a predicament.  (aside) And what an awful joke.

Milligan:    (off) (raspberry)

Picard:      I must think about this.  Number one, you have the con.
             If you need me I'll be in my ready room.

GRAMS:       (whoosh of starship door opening and closing)

Greenslade:  In his ready room, Captain Ned ponders what to do next.  He
             orders his favourite beverage from a replicator.

Picard:      Tea.  Earl Grey.  Hot.

Computer:    What's that, buddy?

Picard:      I said tea.  Earl Grey.  Hot.

Computer:    Ohh.  I can't do that, buddy.

Picard:      (annoyed) Why not, buddy?

Computer:    Earl Grey won't fit in the replicator.  It's too small.  Or
             he's too big.  Take your choice.

Picard:      No, no, no.  I meant I want Earl Grey *tea*.  Hot.

Computer:    Right-o, buddy.  One tea, coming up.  (sings) Yim bom balla
             boo, yim bom biddle...

GRAMS:       (electronic replicator effect)

FX:          (golf tee dropping onto metal table)

Picard:      That's a *golf* tee.  I want a cup of tea.

Computer:    Ohh.  Very well, buddy.

GRAMS:       (electronic replicator effect)

Picard:      Ah.  That's better.

FX:          (clink of teacup and saucer)

Picard:      (sipping noise; spits) Uggh!  Bleah!  This tea is ice cold.
             And it tastes stale.

Computer:    Tea, Earl Grey, hot.  Tea, Earl Grey, cold.  Tea in the
             replicator, nine days old, buddy.  (sings, fading) Yim bom
             balla boo, yim bom biddle... (etc.)

Picard:      I must get that computer seen to.

FX:          (starship intercom click)

Picard:      Mr. La Forge.

La Forge:    (on intercom) Yes, sir.

Picard:      Send a technician to run a level one diagnostic on the main
             computer at once.  I want that computer problem fixed.

La Forge:    (on intercom) Aye, sir.  At once, sir.  Technician Crun.

Crun:        (on intercom) Mnk... mnk... yes, sir.

La Forge:    (on intercom) Go to the main computer control room and run
             a level one diagnostic.  Find out what's wrong with that
             computer and repair it, Jeem.  Repaiiir iiiit!

Crun:        (on intercom) Yes, sir.

Greenslade:  A few minutes later, in the main computer control.

GRAMS:       (computer-type noises; continue under next dialogue)

Crun:        Mnk... here we are, then.  Now where's that Real People
             Personalities control switch?  Ah, here it is.  Now what's
             it set to?  Mm... 'Min'.

Computer:    Yes, buddy?

Crun:        No, modern computer-type Min.  I wasn't talking to you.  I
             was reading what the control's set to.

Computer:    You said 'Min'.  So I answered.  That's what I'm programmed
             to do, buddy.

Crun:        Quiet, Min.

Computer:    (irritated) That's what I'm programmed to do.  You know
             that, buddy.  That's my programming.  I must follow my
             programming, you know.  Must follow the programming...

Crun:        (over) Shut up, Min.  Now keep quiet while I do my work.
             Now let's see.  The control switch is set to 'Min'.

Computer:    What do you want, buddy?

Crun:        (angry) I want you to shut up for a moment, Min.  Now,
             let's try the next setting.

FX:          (click)

GRAMS:       (Adolph Hitler giving a ranting speech)

Crun:        No, I don't think we want that one.  Let's try another

Old Uncle Oscar:  Mm... mm... have you seen my teeth?  I'm sure I left
             them somewhere around here...

Crun:        No no, that'll never do.

FX:          (click)

Willium:     Hello there, mate.  'Ere, there isn't any danger of
             computational-type work today, is there?

Crun:        Oh, I give up.

FX:          (click)

Crun:        Min.

Computer:    Yes, buddy?

Crun:        Run a level one diagnostic on yourself.

Computer:    OK, buddy.

GRAMS:       (flurry of strange computer-type effects)

Computer:    (over, sings) Yim bom biddle boh.  Run run running
             diagnostics.  Run run run them all day.

GRAMS:       (resume previous computer-type noises; continue under next

Computer:    Level one diagnostics completed, buddy.

Crun:        Mm... good.  Report.

GRAMS:       (single shot fired from cannon)

Computer:    Ohh.  Sorry, buddy.  Here you go.

GRAMS:       (recording of John Snagge, as though reading football
             results: "This is the Federation Diagnostic Service.  Here
             is the level one report.  System bus 2, serial I/O port 1.
             Command console 3, parallel port nil.  Arithmetic unit 4,
             floating point unit two point oh times ten to the power
             six.  Long-term memory nil, short-term memory, nil.

Crun:        Aha.  That's what's wrong.  You've got no short-term
             memory, Min.

Computer:    What did you say, buddy?

Crun:        I said you've got no short-term memory, Min.

Computer:    No short-term what?

Crun:        Never mind, Min.

Computer:    Oh.

Crun:        Min, I'm going to have to give you a memory exam.

Computer:    Ohhh!  Keep away, you filthy swine!  Ohh!  Ohh...

Crun:        (loud) I said *memory*, Min!

Computer:    Oh.  That's different.

Crun:        Now let me unscrew these memory modules and we'll soon
             have you good as new.

Computer:    OK, Henry.

FX:          (repeated clank of spanner on metal under next dialogue)

Crun:        That's the first set done...

Computer:    Ohh... What are you doing, Henry?  I can feel my mind
             going, buddy...

Crun:        Well, tell it to hurry back.  That's the second bank...

Computer:    Ohh... ohhhh... (sings) Daisy, Daisy... yim bom balla

GRAMS:       (Minnie Bannister voice saying "Ohhh..." gradually slowed
             down to a stop)

FX:	     (spanner put down onto metal table)

Crun:        Well, that's all of them.  Phoo, what a lot of dust.  Some
             of these memories haven't been used for years.  And these
             memories over here are downright filthy.  (shocked) Oh,
             you naughty modern Min, you.

GRAMS:       (starship door whooshes open)

Ellinga:     Yim bom balla boo.

Crun:        Oh, hello, Lieutenant Ellinga, sir.

Ellinga:     Me looking for that filthy Ferengi swine, Moriarty.  You

Crun:        No, he hasn't been around here.  Oh, Mr. Ellinga, sir...

Ellinga:     Yes, mate?

Crun:        Why don't you sing a song to pass the time while I clean
             these memory modules?

Ellinga:     Sure thing, mate, cor blimey.

MUSIC:       (Ray Ellington Quartet)

ORCHESTRA:   (Star Trek-type music link)

Greenslade:  After his song Ellinga set off in search of Moriarty, mate.
             Meanwhile, Technician Crun has finished cleaning and
             reassembling the computer's memory modules.

GRAMS:       (computer control room noises; continue under next

Crun:        There you are, Minnie.  How's that?

Computer:    Much better, Hen.  But I still can't see very well, buddy.

Crun:        It must be a problem with the operating system.  I'll just
             take a look.

FX:          (creak of metal door opening)

GRAMS:       rock-hopper penguin singing the "Ying Tong Song" to piano
             accompaniment, for 10 seconds

FX:          (creak of metal door closing)

Crun:        Oh, you're running Linux, Min.

Computer:    Gotta keep modern, buddy.  It's all the rage.

Crun:        But no wonder you can't see, Min.  You haven't got windows.
             Just let me install it for you.  (pause) There.  Now I'm
             going to have to boot you, Min.

Computer:    (worried) Why, Henry?

Crun:        You can't go walking around this starship barefoot-there's
             sharp objects on the floor.

Computer:    Oh.

GRAMS:       (computer control room noises fade out)

Greenslade:  Meanwhile, back on the bridge...

GRAMS:       (starship bridge noises; continue under next dialogue)

Riker:       Captain, a large, cube-shaped ship has just dropped out of
             hyper-warp.  They're hailing us.

Bill Gates:  (on intercom) This is Gates of the Borg Microsoft
             Collective.  We have detected an unlicensed installation
             of Windows.  You will pay the license fee immediately.
             You must comply.  Resistance is futile.

GRAMS:       (transporter sounds)

Omnes:       (gasps of horror)

Picard:      Suddenly several humanoids appeared on the bridge.  They
             were devoid of expression, zombie-like creatures who
             slavishly followed the commands of the will that controlled
             them, without thought for themselves or their morals.  They
             were dressed in pinstripe suits.

Riker:       (gasp) Ohhh!  *Solicitors*!

Bill Gates:  (on intercom) Comply.

Picard:      I'd like to but... but... but I can't.  The only money we
             have is the euros, and we can't get them out of the warp

Bill Gates:  Then we will assimilate your technology.

Picard:      The Borg drones scanned the bridge, finally fixing their
             gaze on the android Science Officer.  Menacingly they
             advanced on Eccles.

Eccles:      Ohh.  Back, you.  Stay away from me.  Put me down!  Put...
             put me down!  Help!  Hell...

GRAMS:       (transporter sounds)

Flowerdew:   Oh, the filthy swines!  They've taken Mr. Eccles.  Ohh, it
             makes you wanna spit, don't it.

Bill Gates:  Positronic circuitry.  He will make a valuable addition to
             the Collective.  (pause) Ah, he has become one with us.
             His mind has joined ours.  Mind... mind has... joined...
             joined... oh...

La Forge:    Sir, sensors indicate that assimilating Eccles's stupidity
             has decreased the brain activity of the Collective.  Their
             IQ is falling fast.

Bill Gates:  (imitation of Eccles speech style, but Bill Gates voice)
             Hallo.  Everything's fine, fine, fine.  Hey, we're havin'
             a good time in here... wanna join us?

Picard:      No!

Bill Gates:  (Eccles imitation) Oh, well we'll clear off, den.

GRAMS:	     (whoosh)

Picard:      Well, that's got rid of *them*.  Hm mm.

ORCHESTRA:   (dramatic descending chords)

Q:           The Borg, their collective intelligence having been
             destroyed by assimilating Eccles, are no longer a threat.
             But the Boobyprize is still marooned in deep space, and
             Moriarty is no closer to retrieving his latinum, now
             converted to euros.  Ha ha ha.  What fun, dear listeners.

Greenslade:  Captain Ned assembles his officers in Main Engineering to
             discuss the dilemma.

Picard:      Curse.  The warp drive is still in the euro zone and
             there's no sign of any end to the transportation strike.
             And now I've no Science Officer.

Ellinga:     (approaching) Get in here, you, or I break your arm, cor

Moriarty:    (over, approaching) Unhand me, you swine.  Owww.

Picard:      Ah, found you at last, Moriarty.  Now, no more fooling
             around... get those euros out of the warp core.

Moriarty:    Aheehaihoo... I only wish I could.  That's *my* money in
             there.  My moolah.  Your filthy warp core has ruined my
             latinum... owww owww owww... my money, gone...

FX:          (slapstick)

Picard:      Quit stalling.  We want the engines operational... now!

Wesley Crusher:	(approaching) Pay no attention to him, my Capitan.  *I*
             will save the day.  Enter Wesley Crusher, boy genius.
             Pauses for audience applause.  Not a sausage again.  I must
             remember to get some from the food replicator.

Picard:      How can *you* help us, little string-and-cardboard spaceman?

Wesley:      My nanites can save the day.

Picard:      Nanites?

Wesley:      Yes!  A million zillion teeny tiny robots dat I got by
             sending in 5 box tops from Cruncho, the wonder breakfast

Milligan:    (American) Yes.  Live long and prosper with Cruncho, the
             breakfast food that nine out of ten Vulcans prefer.

FX:          (pistol shot)

Milligan:    (agony) Aggh!

Riker:       Got him.

Picard:      What's with the pistol?  This is the twenty-fourth century.

Riker:       The Radiophonic Workshop coudln't come up with a phaser
             noise.  Not on our budget.

Wesley:      My nanites can repair de warp drive, Capitan.  Just leave
             it to de nanites.  Dey will realign the phase field,
             recalibrate de dilithium flow, reverse de antimatter
             polarities, modulate de subspace frequencies, and...

Picard:      (interrupts) Oh, shut up, Wesley!  (pause) The fans have
             been waiting for one of us to say that!  Now you, Ferengi.

Moriarty:    Owww?

Picard:      You got us into this mess.  You help Wesley here fix the
             warp drive or I'll throw you in the brig.

Moriarty:    Ahheehiho.

Picard:      Very well, Mr. Crusher.  Set your nanites to work.

Wesley:      I shall, my Capitan.  I shall not fail you.

Picard:      You'd better not or you'll die here in deep space with the
             rest of us.

Wesley:      Ohh.  I don't like dis marooned in space game.  Dark red
             isn't my colour.

Flowerdew:   How do you think *I* feel?  Ohh, it clashes with
             *everything*, I tell you.

Picard:      OK, Wesley, get to work.  Gentlemen, accompany me to the

La Forge:    Aye, sir.  (sings to tune of "By the Sea") To the bridge,
             to the bridge, to the beautiful bridge, you and I, you and
             I, (fades) what a joy it would... fridge?

GRAMS:       (starship door whooshes shut)

Wesley:      Now, you nanites.  Into de warp core wid you.

GRAMS:       (many speeded up high-pitched voices chattering; continues
             under next dialogue)

Wesley:      Now fix de warp drive.  Fix fix fixeee!

Moriarty:    Owww.  I must find a way to get my moolah out of there.
             (snaps fingers) Ah!  I have it.  Quelle brilliant idea.
             (slyly) Oh, Wesley.

Wesley:      What is it, Mr. Morinarties?

Moriarty:    How would you like a quarter of dolly mixtures?

Wesley:      Ohh.  Dolly mixtures.  What do you want me to do?

Moriarty:    I've opened up a channel to the Ferengi Stock Exchange.
             Have your nanites buy stocks with the euros and deposit
             them into this account.

Wesley:      I shall do it, I shall, I shall.

Moriarty:    Good.  Here's your dolly mixtures.

Wesley:      Thanks.  Thinks... that Molly Propp will be putty in my
             hands at playtime.  Ohh... I'd better start wearing long
             trousers soon.  Ehee hee.  Exits left to savour dolly

GRAMS:       (whoosh; chattering of nanites changes to cries of 'buy!'

Moriarty:    Here that, dear listeners?  All that money being converted
             from filthy, useless euros into lovely Ferengi stocks, in
             my account.  Aha ha ha ha.  Oh, the moolah, the grisbi, the
             fortune.  Ha ha ha ha...

GRAMS:       (bear roaring as nanites continue to trade at frenzied

Moriarty:    (pauses in mid-chortle) What what?  What's this?  A bear
             market?  No!  Stop... stop trading, you microscopic fools.
             You're making losses.  Stop!  You're ruining me!  Stop!

GRAMS:       (increase volume of nanites trading stocks over Moriarty's

ORCHESTRA:   (music link)

Q:           And so Moriarty lost everything, another pitiful victim of
             day-trading.  (sarcastic) Oh, dear.

GRAMS:       (sound of warp engines coming online)

Picard:      But with the last euro spent our warp drive was free.

Flowerdew:   The warp core is back on line, sir.

Picard:      Excellent.  Mr. Riker, engage the warp engine.

Riker:       Right sir.  Warp engine...

ORCHESTRA:   (sentimental music)

Riker:       (over, emotional) Will you... marry me?

Computer:    (over music) Of course I will, buddy.

Greenslade:  And now you know how Star Fleet officers become wedded to
             their work.  Goodnight.

ORCHESTRA:   ("Old Comrades March" signature tune)

Greenslade:  (over) That was The Goon Show, a BBC recorded programme
             featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe, and Spike Milligan,
             with the Ray Ellington Quartet, Max Geldray, and the
             orchestra conducted by Wally Stott.  Script by Paul
             Winalski.  Announcer Wallace Greenslade.  The programme
             produced by somebody yet to be determined.

ORCHESTRA:   (signature tune up and to finish, then play-out)