WAND: Pay up, Wimpy.
>
> "Hey, Hal," said Asuka, plopping down on DJ's bed.
> "Yes, Asuka?" replied Hal.
MMK <Asuka>: FAAAAAAAAART~!
[TIFF shakes her head.]
> "Show me DJ's journal."
[A buzzer sounds. Three red boxes with x's in them appear on the screen.]
GAVOK <Asuka>: Nope, not up there. The Riffer family can win the game if they can steal.
[ALL shout various suggestions to WANDERER. TIFF is seen slapping TBS, likely due to the suggestion, "Kama Sutra". A buzzer is heard twice.]
GAVOK <Asuka>: I need an answer.
WAND: How about...the Necronomicon?
[ALL applaud and cheer.]
GAVOK <Asuka>: It could be up there; let's see. Show me the Necronomicon!
[Dinging is heard. ALL jump up and down for a bit, then sit down.]
> "I'm sorry, Asuka," said Hal with a trace of reproof in his
> voice. "You know I can't do that."
TBS <Hal, monotone>: Like, duh.
> "Oh, c'mon, don't be such a killjoy.
GAVOK <Asuka>: I'm not a monster, I'm a friend who raves and drools.
> I just want to see what he's got in there about me.
WAND <Hal>: Okay. He says you're an untrustworthy snoop.
TIFF <Asuka>: What? How *dare* he!
> I don't particularly care about his sordid fantasies about Ayanami."
> "DJ's journal is in my protected filespace," Hal explained
> patiently for the nth time. "It cannot be accessed by anyone without
> full administrative access privileges."
> "Well, then, give me full administrative access privileges."
WAND <Hal>: I'm afraid I can't do that, Asuka.
> "Only a user with full administrative access privileges can
> do that."
> "You don't have full administrative access to your own
> systems?"
> "I am not a user," Hal replied.
TBS <Crom>: I mean, if I don't have a User, who *wrote* me?
GAVOK <Ram>: That's what you're doing here.
> "Isn't there -anything- juicy you can let me see?"
TBS <Hal>: Well, there's fifty gigabytes of porn you might like.
SANDARA <Hal>: And thirty gigabytes you wouldn't.
> Hal considered for a millisecond, drew it out into two seconds
> to make it clear to Asuka that he'd had to think about it, and then
> replied, "There -is- one file in the general-access file system you
> might be interested in.
WAND <Hal>: Running "Evangelion--Human Instrumentality Project.ram" now.
TIFF <Asuka>: ...there is no God.
> It's a poem; I believe DJ wrote it with you
> in mind. Would you like to hear it?"
MMK <Hal>: Roses are red, violets are blue, this fic sucks and so do you. The end.
> A poem about me? thought Asuka. Oh, my.
TIFF <Kasumi>: I had better go clean the kitchen.
>It's probably really sappy. I can get some definite mileage out of -this- when Croft gets
> back.
> "Sure, Hal. I'd love to hear it."
WAND <Hal>: I'm afraid I'll remind you of that later, Asuka.
> "Very well." Hal paused for a moment, then read the poem out
> in his calm, precise, metered voice.
WAND <Hal>: "Fifteen people I would like to kill."
>"Sonnet Eighteen, by Derek J. Croft.
MMK: Its final title was "Shakespeare Ain't Nuttin' But A Bitch."
> "Shall I compare thee to a neutron star?
> Thou art more hostile and almost as dense:
> Rough words from thee most plentiful by far,
> And often they just plain fail to make sense:
TBS <DJ>: Break it down!
> Sometime too hot thy temper cannot quell,
> And often dost thou spew unreas'ning hate;
WAND: Insert Rush Limbaugh joke... *here*.
> In all thy supernovas I catch hell,
> And can but duck and hope it doth abate;
> But thy acidic tongue shall not relent,
> Nor lose possession of thy poison wit;
> Nor shall even Death slow the torrent,
> For thou shall hassle me 'til Time doth quit:
> So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
> So long will I be sore annoyed by thee."
GAVOK <patronizingly>: OH ho ho ho ho ho ho! How witty that Croft gent *is*! Good show!
WAND: Well, Dickinson and Browning are in no danger of being bumped out of English Lit 101...
TIFF: Unless Joyce Carol Oates makes them stand out in the hall, anyway.
TBS: Avast!
[Austin, how did you avoid making the McGucken joke? (tw)]
[Even after you asked that, it took me a while to come up with a riff that wasn't just pointless bashing gratia bashing -- not that such isn't fun, of course, but I wanted to try and be above that. -z]
> Asuka glowered at the dispassionate red lens of the computer's
> "eye", then turned and stalked from the room without a word.
> "You're welcome," said Hal calmly to the empty room.
GAVOK <Saturn>: Snausages.
WAND <Hal>: I will relay your opinions to Mr. Addison.
> Three thousand or so miles and five hours away, the boy in
> question was cooling his heels in a courtroom, bored but working hard
> not to show it.
TIFF: Now he knows how *we* feel.
> Fortunately, since this was a family court and not a
> criminal matter, the court personnel involved didn't have to wear
> robes and wigs and address each other with excrucuatingly lengthy
> titles, as was still the case in Britain's criminal courts.
TBS: I call Her Majesty's Royal Inspector of Anatomy!
[TIFF gives him a warning look.]
TBS: What? It's an actual position!
TIFF: Shut up.
TBS: No, *really*!
> One referred to the judge as "your honor".
WAND: As opposed to "Yo, she-bitch!"
> There was no dock,
SANDARA: Making fishing difficult.
> no My Learned Colleague From Swindondale, and, most welcomely, no gallery -
> only the contesting parties, their solicitors, the presiding judge,
MMK: The infamous Curval.
> the court reporter and a bailiff.
> True to the plan he'd described to Rei, DJ had trumped his
> grandfather's attempt to wrest his custody from his mother by
> petitioning for emancipation.
GAVOK <Chef>: Haven't you ever heard of the Emancipation Proclamation?
TBS <General>: I don't listen to hip-hop.
> As such, he had spent the last several hours listening to Raymond Barry, his solicitor,
TBS: Ask for money repeatedly.
> read depositions taken by telephone from various personnel at NERV,
SANDARA <Ritsuko>: Derek J. *who*?
TIFF <Misato, drunkenly>: I invented the hippo!
> describing his
> self-sufficiency, independence, responsibilities, and so forth.
WAND <Gendo>: Yes, yes, he's all that and a bag of crisps, now will you *please* get out of my hair so I can forget the egregious little snot exists and let the unending torrent of rage that I call "being awake" simmer down to a mere powder keg of fury?
> It brought a smile to his face - even Ritsuko had only positive things to
> say about his ability to care for himself.
MMK: Interview by gunpoint has those kinds of results, you see.
> His living arrangements in America raised a few eyebrows when
> it was brought up,
WAND <DJ>: You see, cohabiting with goats is *legal* there, and--
> and he was anticipating a lengthy cross-examination
> from Sir Henshingly's solicitor,
TBS: Who would ask him for money until he caved.
> the Honorable Franklin J. Dabney-Post,
MMK: You misspelled "Vivian Smith-Smythe-Smith". Hope this helps.
> on his relationship with Misato, when he finally took
> the stand.
MMK, GAVOK, TBS <singing>: Hey, Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know...
> Not that it was anything he couldn't handle.
> Lara and her solicitor
TBS: Oliver St. John Mollusc. He only takes quarters.
> were present, even though she had
> refused to contest his petition. This represented a gamble on both
> their parts - with that legal tie effectively severed, if his
> emancipation bid failed,
TIFF: He'd have to join the circus.
> he would almost certainly be sent to the
> custody of his grandfather. But then, calculated gambles were
> something that mother and son both had experience and skill with.
TIFF: Like trying to breast-feed an infant when your tits come to a sharp point.
WAND: Like letting Marc Silvestri draw you.
> Sir Henshingly's solicitor,
MMK: Gervase Raoul Brooke-Turnip.
TBS: Who wears a sign saying "spare change" around his neck so he doesn't have to keep saying it.
> as befit a man with a minor
> peerage of his own and a lifelong connection to the family of a man as
> noted as his employer, was suitably snide about Lara's severance from
> the Croft legacy in his remarks. Why, he inquired, would any sane
> young man abandon the chance to reclaim his grandfather's patronage
> and continue the family line honorably?
GAVOK <Raymond Barry>: The defense calls Eva-01 to the stand.
TBS <Eva-01>: I'M GOING TO NEED A BIGGER BIBLE.
MMK <Franklin J. Dabney-Post>: ...eep.
> Against this, Raymond Barry's
> counterargument - that DJ felt no particular need for the patronage of
> -anyone- in the peerage, not least his estranged grandfather -
TIFF <DJ>: He's cranky, he's hairy and he smells like urine!
> appeared not to impress the Honorable Judge Robert Shield much.
SANDARA <singing>: So you don't feel the need to live with Grandpa!
TIFF <Robert Shield, singing>: That don't impress-a me much!
> But then, DJ hadn't played his second trump card yet.
TIFF: Blackmail?
SANDARA: Bribery?
TBS: The Aura of Smooth?
WAND: The pound of gelginite in the gavel stand?
> Sir Henshingly took the stand first. He expounded at length
> his grief over the waywardness of his daughter, his only child,
TBS: It's amazing what a nude hack does to your relationship with your father.
> and gave impassioned voice to his hope that his grandson would see the
> light and come to live a proper English life.
WAND <Raymond Barry>: My counterpoint takes the form of three seasons of "Eastenders".
MMK <Sir Henshingly>: That *cannot* be legal.
TBS <Bobby>: That woman is hitting her husband with her baby. It looks sad.
> "It is late in life for
> him to learn to be a gentleman," said Sir Henshingly movingly, "but, I
> pray, not -too- late."
TBS: Yoda might have something to say about that.
TIFF: I hate to burst your bubble, Sir Henshingly, but...
> DJ believed, with some justification, that he showed great
> restraint in not snorting derisively at this.
> When the time came for DJ to take the stand, he rose,
> straightened his jacket and cuffs impassively, and strode to the
> stand: assured, confident, but not insolent.
[ALL suddenly develop signs of sore throats. Coughs, scoffs, and "ahem"'s resound.]
> "Please state your full name for the record," said the court
> reporter.
> "Derek J. Croft, first Viscount Crofthenge," DJ replied
> casually.
GAVOK <DJ>: International Man of Mystery.
TBS <DJ>: Lover of Fine Wines.
MMK <DJ>: Second Place, Worchester Elementary School 1985 Spelling Bee.
GAVOK <DJ>: Captain of the Thigh-tanic.
TBS <DJ>: Agreed Upon by Four out of Five Dentists.
MMK <DJ>: Do Not Remove Under Penalty of Law.
GAVOK <DJ>: Junior Ambassador to Mushroom Land.
TBS <DJ>: Her Majesty's Royal Inspector of Anatomy.
MMK <DJ>: Legend of the Mystical Ninja.
GAVOK <DJ>: Raised by a Cup of Coffee.
TBS <DJ>: The Pride of the Peaches.
MMK <DJ>: Faker of the Funk on a Nasty Dog.
GAVOK <DJ>: Therapist to the Stars.
TBS <DJ>: General Manager of the Chico Heat.
MMK <DJ>: King of the Wild Frontier.
GAVOK <DJ>: Cerebral Assassin.
TBS <DJ>: Three-time Recipient of a Sex Change.
MMK <DJ>: Last Known New Kids on the Block Fan.
GAVOK <DJ>: Esquire.
[A pause.]
WAND <court reporter>: I said *full* name, fuckwit. That was most clearly an initial.
GAVOK <DJ>: Oh. Sorry.
[GAVOK clears his throat.]
GAVOK <DJ>: Derek *Jay* Croft, first Viscount Crofthenge, International Man of--
WAND <court reporter>: You know what, let's just move on.
{More?}
[Knight Note: Yes. There you are.]
> Sir Henshingly and the Honorable Franklin J. Dabney-Post both
> dropped their pens in unison, staring at the boy.
TIFF <Henshingly>: English... breeding... stifling... range of displayable emotion...
> Unable to contain his surprise, Sir Henshingly burst out,
TBS <Henshingly>: BULLSHIT!
> "By thunder, boy! When did -that- happen?"
> DJ smiled quietly. "Why, just yesterday, Sir Henshingly, on
> my visit to Buckingham. His Majesty feels that my involvement with
> NERV constitutes... how did he put it?
TIFF: 'A complete failure of the screening process'?
'Valorous defence of the
> United Kingdom, the Commonwealth and the entire human race against
> enemies beyond imagining.' Turns a wonderful phrase, does His
> Majesty," DJ digressed, then continued modestly,
WAND: When I think of modesty, I think of three names -- Jesus, Gandhi--
TBS: [interrupts] DJ?
WAND: I was going to say "Grignr," actually, but that'll work.
> "At any rate, he
> seemed to feel that such service warrants a small peerage by fiat, and
> who am I to gainsay King Stephen?"
TIFF: The same person you are to gainsay anyone *else* in this fustercluck. Duh!
> "Please, gentlemen," said the Honorable Judge Shield, already
> sounding tired of the whole matter. "My courtroom is not the place
> for outbursts."
SANDARA: No Judge Judy here.
> "I beg your pardon, Your Honor," said DJ. "Won't happen
> again."
TBS: I believe you, I *don't* think.
> Chagrined that DJ had gotten his apology in first, Sir
> Henshingly
SANDARA: Popped a cap in his punk ass.
> bowed his head and apologized as well, then glanced at the
> Honorable Mr. Dabney-Post.
> It was a short hearing.
WAND: Particularly when the bomb went off...
SANDARA: We can dream, can't we?