Title : The Alf-Spring
Author : Rob Morris
Type Remix of the TNG episode, 'The Offspring'
Rating: PG
Summary: Data attempts to carry on Doctor Soong's experiments by creating a child. That is to say, he attempts....
The Alf-spring
by Rob Morris
(Deanna and Wesley walks in on the end of Data's experiments)
Data: I am pleased that you are both here. My offspring is ready to choose its outer form.
(We see the holo-controls lay upon the familiar framework of Alf)
Deanna: Its chosen the form of a male Melmacian.
Wesley: Data, have you given your child a name yet?
Data: I have. I choose to call him Android Life Form--or Alf, for short. Alf, say hello to Wesley.
(Alf looks up at him)
Alf: Wesley, huh? So just how many days was your mother in labor?
(Wes winces; uncertain if the new android understands what he's saying; Alf turns and looks at Deanna)
Alf: Geez, the anti-gravs have gotten advanced lately. Pleased to meet all three of you.
(He leaves with Data; The two stand there, dumbstruck)
Wesley: Labor?
Deanna: Did he just make a remark about my...
(Up on the Bridge; Data is in Picard's ready room)
Picard: I merely wish that you had informed me, Data. What outer form did it choose?
Data: The form of an extinct male Melmacian. Melmac is a destroyed planet....
(Picard gets up from his chair in a panic)
Picard: Melmacian? My God!
(Goes out onto the Bridge)
Picard: You! Get up from there.
(Alf is sitting in the Captain's Chair; looks around and nods)
Alf: So this is the final frontier. I like what you've done with the place.
(Picard purposefully strides up to the chair)
Picard: Is there anything at all I can do for you?
(Alf looks him over)
Alf: The captain has a waiter. How schwanky.
Data: Alf--this man is the Captain. Captain Jean-Luc Picard.
Alf: Well, I knew he wasn't Captain Minoxidil.
Data: I believe that you should vacate his chair.
Alf: And just when did he call 'dibs'?
Data: Alf, I must order you to leave the Captain's chair immediately.
Alf: Why? So he can---Ro-gaine it? Get it? Regain? Rogaine? HA! I kill me.
(Alf is thrown out of the chair by Picard)
Alf: Pushy, pushy.
Picard: Mister Data--immediately instruct your son on protocol.
Alf: I know all about Protocol. Goldie Hawn was in a rut when she made that. I think she picked it up from Burt Reynolds.
(Data narrates his personal log)
Data's Log: Alf appears to have mastered many emotions. Indeed, his progress is stellar. He appears to have taken a great interest in Spot's growth and development.
(We see Alf stalking the decks, sniffing about)
Alf: Hereeeee, Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty. Alf doesn't know how to use the food replicator yet.
Data's Log: He is interacting more frequently with the crew
(Alf talks to Geordi)
Alf: You want to score with chicks? NO Problem! Just find some way to have them overlook your obvious handicap.
Geordi: My visor?
Alf: Your haircut. Stay away from that butcher, Mister Mott. (Whispers) You should see the mess he made with the Captain.
Data's Log: There are some signs that his neural nets are overloading.
Wesley (In 10-Fwd): Alf, what's the distance in geo parsecs to Brigktor Four?
Alf: How should I know?
Wesley: Your positronic brain can handle over 9 billion calculations a minute.
Alf: Yeah, but I never liked math.
Data's Log: His experience working in Ten-Forward has proven invaluable
(Guinan finds him behind the bar; Blasted drunk)
Guinan: HOW did you drink all the hard liquor?
Alf: I left you the green stuff. I have my standards.
(Talks to Riker; Rubs the top of Will's head)
Alf: Does Shatner know you stole that thing? And when Chris Farley played you on SNL, wasn't it eerie just how much you two really look alike?
(Riker grabs and reaches over the bar and starts strangling Alf)
(Data walks in)
Data: Commander--what are your intentions towards my son?
(Worf has to drag Will off of him; Worf glares at Alf)
Worf: Be wise. Say nothing.
Alf: Does your family miss you?
(Worf looks surprised)
Worf: Which of my two families do you refer to?
Alf: The one with Master Splinter, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello.....
FIVE DAYS AND MUCH RECONSTRUCTION LATER....
Alf: Klingons have no sense of humor.
Data: This is largely true.
Alf: Hey, Pop? Where's my brother Spot?
Data: You will be informed of that only when the restraining order has expired.
Data's Log: I sent Alf to help Doctor Crusher in Sickbay. He was assigned to a case the Doctor does not care to handle herself.
(Alf talks to Barclay)
Alf: Listen--the odds of this allergy making your nose fall off are just not that high. 1 in 3 is not as bad as it sounds. Go relax on the holodeck.
(A shaking Reg exits; Beverly shakes her head)
Crusher: You are aware that he's a holo-addict, right? And a hypochondriac?!
Alf: What's your point?
(Shakes her head; Looks at hair strand under microviewer)
Alf: Don't tell me I'm shedding. Or do androids even shed?
Crusher: No. That's a hair strand from when Q turned me into an Irish Setter.
Alf: A little hair of the dog that was you--HA!
Data's Log: In school, Alf has formed a bond with the other students, and has helped organize activities.
(Alf and the children confront the teacher)
Alf: Look, its either chocolate milk everyday or no spelling bee. Now do we have an understanding on homework, or does the hamster get it?
Data's Log: An Admiral from Starfleet has questioned my ability to raise Alf properly. But I am confident Captain Picard will represent our rights in this matter with his usual passion.
(Picard talks to Admiral)
Picard: Well, I suppose Starfleet does know best in these matters. How soon will you be leaving with him?
Admiral: Well--I haven't decided on that, just yet.
Deanna: I was just observing how poor a parent Data truly is. Alf will be raised to his full potential by those who know best.
Crusher: I just don't want Data to make the mistakes I made with Wesley.
Wesley: I'm really messed up. Mom just flubbed the whole thing. We don't want --poor, poor-- Alf to suffer like I did.
Worf: Data is a good friend and a great officer but a massively unfit father. Plus, his cat will not move out of the shielded brig.
Geordi: I think Data may actually be Lore in disguise. That makes it vital Alf be protected.
Riker: A noted jurist once said that Data is little more than a toaster. Would you want a toaster raising a child?
Admiral: Well, we don't just want to rip him out of his father's arms.
Picard: What's your point?
Data's Log: I was forced to surrender Alf, despite the best efforts of my dear friends.
Alf: Dad--willya think of me?
Data: I have been ordered by the Captain not to.
Alf: Wise man, that Picard. Well, good---
(Data sees a suitcase get up and walk away)
Alf: Boy, that crazy Spot. Can't stay away from me.
FIVE MONTHS LATER....
Data's Log: Alf has done very well while away, and has shown an aptitude for nothing less than the Admiralty itself. Yet in my incompleteness, I have created yet another offspring.
Wes: Well, what did this one choose?
Picard: Yes, Data? And what form did this one--not choose?
Deanna: Please, we're anxious to know.
(All look nervous)
Data: The form of a male Terran equine. Edward-- please come out.
(A horse saunters out from the room; whinnies)
Horse: Hellllo---I'm Mister Ed.
Riker: Of course.
Author : Rob Morris
Type Remix of the TNG episode, 'The Offspring'
Rating: PG
Summary: Data attempts to carry on Doctor Soong's experiments by creating a child. That is to say, he attempts....
The Alf-spring
by Rob Morris
(Deanna and Wesley walks in on the end of Data's experiments)
Data: I am pleased that you are both here. My offspring is ready to choose its outer form.
(We see the holo-controls lay upon the familiar framework of Alf)
Deanna: Its chosen the form of a male Melmacian.
Wesley: Data, have you given your child a name yet?
Data: I have. I choose to call him Android Life Form--or Alf, for short. Alf, say hello to Wesley.
(Alf looks up at him)
Alf: Wesley, huh? So just how many days was your mother in labor?
(Wes winces; uncertain if the new android understands what he's saying; Alf turns and looks at Deanna)
Alf: Geez, the anti-gravs have gotten advanced lately. Pleased to meet all three of you.
(He leaves with Data; The two stand there, dumbstruck)
Wesley: Labor?
Deanna: Did he just make a remark about my...
(Up on the Bridge; Data is in Picard's ready room)
Picard: I merely wish that you had informed me, Data. What outer form did it choose?
Data: The form of an extinct male Melmacian. Melmac is a destroyed planet....
(Picard gets up from his chair in a panic)
Picard: Melmacian? My God!
(Goes out onto the Bridge)
Picard: You! Get up from there.
(Alf is sitting in the Captain's Chair; looks around and nods)
Alf: So this is the final frontier. I like what you've done with the place.
(Picard purposefully strides up to the chair)
Picard: Is there anything at all I can do for you?
(Alf looks him over)
Alf: The captain has a waiter. How schwanky.
Data: Alf--this man is the Captain. Captain Jean-Luc Picard.
Alf: Well, I knew he wasn't Captain Minoxidil.
Data: I believe that you should vacate his chair.
Alf: And just when did he call 'dibs'?
Data: Alf, I must order you to leave the Captain's chair immediately.
Alf: Why? So he can---Ro-gaine it? Get it? Regain? Rogaine? HA! I kill me.
(Alf is thrown out of the chair by Picard)
Alf: Pushy, pushy.
Picard: Mister Data--immediately instruct your son on protocol.
Alf: I know all about Protocol. Goldie Hawn was in a rut when she made that. I think she picked it up from Burt Reynolds.
(Data narrates his personal log)
Data's Log: Alf appears to have mastered many emotions. Indeed, his progress is stellar. He appears to have taken a great interest in Spot's growth and development.
(We see Alf stalking the decks, sniffing about)
Alf: Hereeeee, Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty. Alf doesn't know how to use the food replicator yet.
Data's Log: He is interacting more frequently with the crew
(Alf talks to Geordi)
Alf: You want to score with chicks? NO Problem! Just find some way to have them overlook your obvious handicap.
Geordi: My visor?
Alf: Your haircut. Stay away from that butcher, Mister Mott. (Whispers) You should see the mess he made with the Captain.
Data's Log: There are some signs that his neural nets are overloading.
Wesley (In 10-Fwd): Alf, what's the distance in geo parsecs to Brigktor Four?
Alf: How should I know?
Wesley: Your positronic brain can handle over 9 billion calculations a minute.
Alf: Yeah, but I never liked math.
Data's Log: His experience working in Ten-Forward has proven invaluable
(Guinan finds him behind the bar; Blasted drunk)
Guinan: HOW did you drink all the hard liquor?
Alf: I left you the green stuff. I have my standards.
(Talks to Riker; Rubs the top of Will's head)
Alf: Does Shatner know you stole that thing? And when Chris Farley played you on SNL, wasn't it eerie just how much you two really look alike?
(Riker grabs and reaches over the bar and starts strangling Alf)
(Data walks in)
Data: Commander--what are your intentions towards my son?
(Worf has to drag Will off of him; Worf glares at Alf)
Worf: Be wise. Say nothing.
Alf: Does your family miss you?
(Worf looks surprised)
Worf: Which of my two families do you refer to?
Alf: The one with Master Splinter, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello.....
FIVE DAYS AND MUCH RECONSTRUCTION LATER....
Alf: Klingons have no sense of humor.
Data: This is largely true.
Alf: Hey, Pop? Where's my brother Spot?
Data: You will be informed of that only when the restraining order has expired.
Data's Log: I sent Alf to help Doctor Crusher in Sickbay. He was assigned to a case the Doctor does not care to handle herself.
(Alf talks to Barclay)
Alf: Listen--the odds of this allergy making your nose fall off are just not that high. 1 in 3 is not as bad as it sounds. Go relax on the holodeck.
(A shaking Reg exits; Beverly shakes her head)
Crusher: You are aware that he's a holo-addict, right? And a hypochondriac?!
Alf: What's your point?
(Shakes her head; Looks at hair strand under microviewer)
Alf: Don't tell me I'm shedding. Or do androids even shed?
Crusher: No. That's a hair strand from when Q turned me into an Irish Setter.
Alf: A little hair of the dog that was you--HA!
Data's Log: In school, Alf has formed a bond with the other students, and has helped organize activities.
(Alf and the children confront the teacher)
Alf: Look, its either chocolate milk everyday or no spelling bee. Now do we have an understanding on homework, or does the hamster get it?
Data's Log: An Admiral from Starfleet has questioned my ability to raise Alf properly. But I am confident Captain Picard will represent our rights in this matter with his usual passion.
(Picard talks to Admiral)
Picard: Well, I suppose Starfleet does know best in these matters. How soon will you be leaving with him?
Admiral: Well--I haven't decided on that, just yet.
Deanna: I was just observing how poor a parent Data truly is. Alf will be raised to his full potential by those who know best.
Crusher: I just don't want Data to make the mistakes I made with Wesley.
Wesley: I'm really messed up. Mom just flubbed the whole thing. We don't want --poor, poor-- Alf to suffer like I did.
Worf: Data is a good friend and a great officer but a massively unfit father. Plus, his cat will not move out of the shielded brig.
Geordi: I think Data may actually be Lore in disguise. That makes it vital Alf be protected.
Riker: A noted jurist once said that Data is little more than a toaster. Would you want a toaster raising a child?
Admiral: Well, we don't just want to rip him out of his father's arms.
Picard: What's your point?
Data's Log: I was forced to surrender Alf, despite the best efforts of my dear friends.
Alf: Dad--willya think of me?
Data: I have been ordered by the Captain not to.
Alf: Wise man, that Picard. Well, good---
(Data sees a suitcase get up and walk away)
Alf: Boy, that crazy Spot. Can't stay away from me.
FIVE MONTHS LATER....
Data's Log: Alf has done very well while away, and has shown an aptitude for nothing less than the Admiralty itself. Yet in my incompleteness, I have created yet another offspring.
Wes: Well, what did this one choose?
Picard: Yes, Data? And what form did this one--not choose?
Deanna: Please, we're anxious to know.
(All look nervous)
Data: The form of a male Terran equine. Edward-- please come out.
(A horse saunters out from the room; whinnies)
Horse: Hellllo---I'm Mister Ed.
Riker: Of course.
Brilliant!
