40,000 books ! {plus SciFi vs Romance DE duel}
Moderator: Darb
[PG-13]
Spock: EVASIVE ACTION !
Jerk: Whaa ??
Spock: The Romancians have fired a superweapon of some sort ...
{a brilliantly coruscating wave of pink energy envelops the ship, penetrates the shields, and rolls through the bridge}
Sulu: {boing !}
Chekov: {boing !}
Rand: {moans}
Jerk: {boing !}
Scotty: {boing !}
Uhura: {moans}
Spock: Captain, sensors are detecting a massive burst of neurological radiation, causing extreme hormonal responses in the crew. Fortunately, my Vulcan physiology seems to be immune to the effect ...
Spock: {boing !} Correction - my hybrid physiology seems to be vulnerable after all, despite the fact that my last Pon Farr was only 5 months, 3 days, and 237.5 minutes ago.
Sulu: {whispering to Chekov} I wish I knew how to quit you.
Chekov: {whispering} I have zum vodkya een my kabin - you kood dew dat thing yew do with the fencing foil, without a shirt ... I luved dat.
Spock: Uhura, I require your immediate anatomical assistance.
Uhura: Mmmmmm, I require your assistance too, Mister Spock.
Spock: {administers trademark Vulcan tush pinch}
Uhura: Oh ... Oh ... OHHHHH !!!
Rand: {administers Vulcan tush pinch to Mr. Spock}
Spock: These involuntary biological responses are quite fascinating. A little more to the left, Yeoman.
Jerk: {embracing the Captain's chair} Oh, my ship ... I love commanding this ship. Khan was right - I love the feel of rich corinthian leather. I love telling people what to do, even though I don't have the faintest idea what I'm doing. I love making an utter idiot of myself. I love the intrigue of trying to pass off cheap toupees as real hair before millions of people. I love blowing stuff up. I love pretending like I know how to sing before a live studio audience. I love embarassingly bad wretched method acting. I love getting into fights as a thin excuse for getting my shirt ripped off by other manly men. I love long melodramatic sililoquies in which I get to climb the scenery. I love ... {ragged breathing & shirt tearing ensues}
{the effect dissipates}
Jerk: I ... uh ... {clutches remains of uniform shirt} ... what was that ?!
Spock: It was the Romancian superweapon, Captain. There have been unsettling rumors for months now of a psychic weapon. It appears those rumors have now been confirmed.
Jerk: {pause} That was GREAT !!
Jerk: Uhura ... open hailing frequencies, and tell them to shoot us again !
{fade out}
Spock: EVASIVE ACTION !
Jerk: Whaa ??
Spock: The Romancians have fired a superweapon of some sort ...
{a brilliantly coruscating wave of pink energy envelops the ship, penetrates the shields, and rolls through the bridge}
Sulu: {boing !}
Chekov: {boing !}
Rand: {moans}
Jerk: {boing !}
Scotty: {boing !}
Uhura: {moans}
Spock: Captain, sensors are detecting a massive burst of neurological radiation, causing extreme hormonal responses in the crew. Fortunately, my Vulcan physiology seems to be immune to the effect ...
Spock: {boing !} Correction - my hybrid physiology seems to be vulnerable after all, despite the fact that my last Pon Farr was only 5 months, 3 days, and 237.5 minutes ago.
Sulu: {whispering to Chekov} I wish I knew how to quit you.
Chekov: {whispering} I have zum vodkya een my kabin - you kood dew dat thing yew do with the fencing foil, without a shirt ... I luved dat.
Spock: Uhura, I require your immediate anatomical assistance.
Uhura: Mmmmmm, I require your assistance too, Mister Spock.
Spock: {administers trademark Vulcan tush pinch}
Uhura: Oh ... Oh ... OHHHHH !!!
Rand: {administers Vulcan tush pinch to Mr. Spock}
Spock: These involuntary biological responses are quite fascinating. A little more to the left, Yeoman.
Jerk: {embracing the Captain's chair} Oh, my ship ... I love commanding this ship. Khan was right - I love the feel of rich corinthian leather. I love telling people what to do, even though I don't have the faintest idea what I'm doing. I love making an utter idiot of myself. I love the intrigue of trying to pass off cheap toupees as real hair before millions of people. I love blowing stuff up. I love pretending like I know how to sing before a live studio audience. I love embarassingly bad wretched method acting. I love getting into fights as a thin excuse for getting my shirt ripped off by other manly men. I love long melodramatic sililoquies in which I get to climb the scenery. I love ... {ragged breathing & shirt tearing ensues}
{the effect dissipates}
Jerk: I ... uh ... {clutches remains of uniform shirt} ... what was that ?!
Spock: It was the Romancian superweapon, Captain. There have been unsettling rumors for months now of a psychic weapon. It appears those rumors have now been confirmed.
Jerk: {pause} That was GREAT !!
Jerk: Uhura ... open hailing frequencies, and tell them to shoot us again !
{fade out}
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Well, not totally clueless, Ms Silverstone.laurie wrote:It amazes me how clueless these guys are about the number of romance novels published each year.

"Fantasy abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters; united with her, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of their marvels." -- Francisco Goya: Epigraph to Los Caprichos, 1970
- tollbaby
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*dies*
Brad.... omg.... omFg.... *pisses self*
*hug* lord I wish we'd had more time to hang out
Kilgore.... new releases huh? For which publishers? Harlequin? Loveswept? Mira? Silhouette (3 of the 4 are all the same company - which of these things just doesn't belong here?), Avon, Signet, Penguin, Pocket?
Romance novels are a frighteningly HUGE market.
Brad.... omg.... omFg.... *pisses self*
*hug* lord I wish we'd had more time to hang out

Kilgore.... new releases huh? For which publishers? Harlequin? Loveswept? Mira? Silhouette (3 of the 4 are all the same company - which of these things just doesn't belong here?), Avon, Signet, Penguin, Pocket?

Romance novels are a frighteningly HUGE market.
And what manner of jackassery must we put up with today? ~ Danae, Non Sequitur
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- laurie
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... Warner ... Dell ... HarperCollins ... Zebra (Kensington) ... Leisure (Dorchester) ... Ballantine ... Jove ... St. Martin's ...tollbaby wrote:For which publishers? Harlequin? Loveswept? Mira? Silhouette (3 of the 4 are all the same company - which of these things just doesn't belong here?), Avon, Signet, Penguin, Pocket?
It's more like - Who doesn't publish Romance?
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." -- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
"So where the hell is he?" -- Laurie
"So where the hell is he?" -- Laurie
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{Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise}
Sulu: They've been over there for a long time. How long do we wait ?
Chekov: As long az eet takes.
Sulu: {Gazes at the R.S.C. Fabio on the main display ... the Romancian Bird of Prey drifts past, with a large picture of Fabio airbrushed on the underside.}
Chekov: I hear that when Romulans make SubCmdr, they get to pick their favorite Romance cover art model, and name their ship after them.
{T'Laurie's boudoir aboard the R.S.C. Fabio}

SubCmdr T'Laurie: So, now that you're in command, what do you intend to do ? You would have an honored place in the Romancian Empire.
Spock: I never sought command, but the blast from your romantic plasma weapon drove our Captain insane, and I had to put him in the brig. I have not, as of yet, given thought of what to do next. The residual effects of the blast have left me ... unsettled.
T'Laurie: {caresses Spock's cheek} your place is here at my side, Spock, aboard the Fabio.
Spock: I must confess, I find your offer tempting.
{Below decks, R.S.C. Fabio}

{Capt. Jerk, in disguise, approaches the Romancian guard stationed outside the room housing the superweapon}
Guard: Stop - this areas is restricted.
Jerk: T'Laurie ordered the guards to be doubled - I'm here to assist.
Guard: Centurion, I dont recognize ...
Jerk: {knees guard with stunning force in the nads, and slips past}
Guard: ... owwww - I want my romulan mommy ...
Jerk: {using communicator} Scotty, i'm in.
Scotty: Ok, describe it to me.
Jerk: The device is short, fat and stubby, with a large round protrubance near the base.
Scotty: {snicker} I bet it's balding too. {snicker}
Jerk: Oh, very funny. How do I detach it ?
Scotty: {snicker} It's probably a strap-on, so just loosen the belt. {snicker}
Jerk: Would you knock it off ! The guards will be here any second. {begins fiddling with apparatus}. Ok, it's free ... beam me aboard. !
{T'Laurie's boudoir aboard the R.S.C. Fabio}
T'Laurie: So, is it true what they say in the anatomical texts about about Vulcan men - that it's green ...
Centurion: Sub-Cmdr !
T'Laurie: I left orders not to be disturbed.
Centurion: There's been a break in. The Humans stole ...
{Engineering, aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise}
Scotty: ... a backup phase coupler ?!
Jerk: What ?
Scotty: Are ye daft man ? All that planning, and you stole the wrong piece of equipment ?!
Jerk:
{T'Laurie's boudoir aboard the R.S.C. Fabio}
T'Laurie:
Spock: Now you know why I had to relieve him. The man's an idiot.
Sulu: They've been over there for a long time. How long do we wait ?
Chekov: As long az eet takes.
Sulu: {Gazes at the R.S.C. Fabio on the main display ... the Romancian Bird of Prey drifts past, with a large picture of Fabio airbrushed on the underside.}
Chekov: I hear that when Romulans make SubCmdr, they get to pick their favorite Romance cover art model, and name their ship after them.
{T'Laurie's boudoir aboard the R.S.C. Fabio}

SubCmdr T'Laurie: So, now that you're in command, what do you intend to do ? You would have an honored place in the Romancian Empire.
Spock: I never sought command, but the blast from your romantic plasma weapon drove our Captain insane, and I had to put him in the brig. I have not, as of yet, given thought of what to do next. The residual effects of the blast have left me ... unsettled.
T'Laurie: {caresses Spock's cheek} your place is here at my side, Spock, aboard the Fabio.
Spock: I must confess, I find your offer tempting.
{Below decks, R.S.C. Fabio}

{Capt. Jerk, in disguise, approaches the Romancian guard stationed outside the room housing the superweapon}
Guard: Stop - this areas is restricted.
Jerk: T'Laurie ordered the guards to be doubled - I'm here to assist.
Guard: Centurion, I dont recognize ...
Jerk: {knees guard with stunning force in the nads, and slips past}
Guard: ... owwww - I want my romulan mommy ...
Jerk: {using communicator} Scotty, i'm in.
Scotty: Ok, describe it to me.
Jerk: The device is short, fat and stubby, with a large round protrubance near the base.
Scotty: {snicker} I bet it's balding too. {snicker}
Jerk: Oh, very funny. How do I detach it ?
Scotty: {snicker} It's probably a strap-on, so just loosen the belt. {snicker}
Jerk: Would you knock it off ! The guards will be here any second. {begins fiddling with apparatus}. Ok, it's free ... beam me aboard. !
{T'Laurie's boudoir aboard the R.S.C. Fabio}
T'Laurie: So, is it true what they say in the anatomical texts about about Vulcan men - that it's green ...
Centurion: Sub-Cmdr !
T'Laurie: I left orders not to be disturbed.
Centurion: There's been a break in. The Humans stole ...
{Engineering, aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise}
Scotty: ... a backup phase coupler ?!
Jerk: What ?
Scotty: Are ye daft man ? All that planning, and you stole the wrong piece of equipment ?!

Jerk:

{T'Laurie's boudoir aboard the R.S.C. Fabio}
T'Laurie:



Spock: Now you know why I had to relieve him. The man's an idiot.
Last edited by Darb on Mon Apr 03, 2006 1:22 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Laurie, in honor of you, the next book I'm reading is this one. 

- harryhermionerw
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- Contact:
Romance: 4994 {+7}
SciFi: 4738 {+6}
Spock: {scanning} The Romancians have reached the 5k Neutral Zone.
Jerk: Yellow alert. Sulu - follow them in.
Sulu: Aye Captain.
Jerk: Maintain current range. We'll bide our time and try to catch them with their pants down.
Chekov: Eet von't happen.
Jerk: Eh ? Why not ?
Chekov: They're Romancians ... dat means dey vear drezzes.
Jerk:
SciFi: 4738 {+6}
Spock: {scanning} The Romancians have reached the 5k Neutral Zone.
Jerk: Yellow alert. Sulu - follow them in.
Sulu: Aye Captain.
Jerk: Maintain current range. We'll bide our time and try to catch them with their pants down.
Chekov: Eet von't happen.
Jerk: Eh ? Why not ?
Chekov: They're Romancians ... dat means dey vear drezzes.
Jerk:

Romance: 5142 {+148}
SciFi: 4844 {+106}
Sulu: Captain, they've gone to warp ... warp 2 and holding.
Jerk: Stay with them, Mr. Sulu.
Sulu. Aye, Sir.
Spock: Their cloaking device limits their speed, and the Cherenkov radiation caused by the ionization of interstellar dust by their cloak is allowing us to maintain a fix on their course ... but it's not possible to get a weapons lock or scan them directly.
Rand: {passes fuel report to the Captain}
Jerk: {signs}
hours pass ...
Jerk: Are we gaining on them ?
Spock: {totally immersed in a knock-down drag-out game of pong with the ship's computer} ...
Jerk: Spock ?
Spock: Scanning now {continues playing, briefly scans, then resumes playing pong} ... no.
Jerk: Well why the #@$% not ?
Chekov: Yew told us to maintain deestance, Keptin.
Jerk:
SciFi: 4844 {+106}
Sulu: Captain, they've gone to warp ... warp 2 and holding.
Jerk: Stay with them, Mr. Sulu.
Sulu. Aye, Sir.
Spock: Their cloaking device limits their speed, and the Cherenkov radiation caused by the ionization of interstellar dust by their cloak is allowing us to maintain a fix on their course ... but it's not possible to get a weapons lock or scan them directly.
Rand: {passes fuel report to the Captain}
Jerk: {signs}
hours pass ...
Jerk: Are we gaining on them ?
Spock: {totally immersed in a knock-down drag-out game of pong with the ship's computer} ...
Jerk: Spock ?
Spock: Scanning now {continues playing, briefly scans, then resumes playing pong} ... no.
Jerk: Well why the #@$% not ?
Chekov: Yew told us to maintain deestance, Keptin.
Jerk:

{switching to ST:TNG genre}
Picard: Report.
Data: According to Starfleet's latest projections, the Romancian Literary Empire will succeed in conquering the alpha quadrant in approximately 393.75 Terran days.
Warg: {snarls}
Laforge: {staring blankly} Data ... that's terrible !
Data: I made no ethical pronouncements Geordie. I merely answered the Captain's database query.
Picard: Options.
Data: ...
Laforge: ...
Riker: ...
Warg: {snarls} Kill them all !!
Picard: ...
Picard: Anyone else ?
Troi: We could try to disguise Wil to look like a Romance Star.
Ro: {grins}
Riker: Now hold on a sec ... I'm not putting in those gossamer pajamas that I wore to that Amazon planet in Season 1 !
Troi: {giggles}
Laforge: {staring blankly} Oh boy, I wish I could have seen that !
Warg: {shouts} We won't win this war with pajamas and seduction ... we have to blow the p'tagh outta them !! {slams fist on console}
Troi: Warg, I'm sensing great anger from you.
Worg: {shouting} Stop stating the obvious, ya Jewish y'ntagh !
Troi: {hurt} I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Greek playing a Betazed !
Picard: {covers eyes}
Crusher: Wait, what about me ? I bet I could seduce them all ! {flexes adolescent muscles}
Riker: ...
Picard: ...
Troi: ...
Ro: ...
Laforge: ...
Warg: We're doomed.
Picard: Report.
Data: According to Starfleet's latest projections, the Romancian Literary Empire will succeed in conquering the alpha quadrant in approximately 393.75 Terran days.
Warg: {snarls}
Laforge: {staring blankly} Data ... that's terrible !
Data: I made no ethical pronouncements Geordie. I merely answered the Captain's database query.
Picard: Options.
Data: ...
Laforge: ...
Riker: ...
Warg: {snarls} Kill them all !!
Picard: ...
Picard: Anyone else ?
Troi: We could try to disguise Wil to look like a Romance Star.
Ro: {grins}
Riker: Now hold on a sec ... I'm not putting in those gossamer pajamas that I wore to that Amazon planet in Season 1 !
Troi: {giggles}
Laforge: {staring blankly} Oh boy, I wish I could have seen that !
Warg: {shouts} We won't win this war with pajamas and seduction ... we have to blow the p'tagh outta them !! {slams fist on console}
Troi: Warg, I'm sensing great anger from you.
Worg: {shouting} Stop stating the obvious, ya Jewish y'ntagh !
Troi: {hurt} I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Greek playing a Betazed !
Picard: {covers eyes}
Crusher: Wait, what about me ? I bet I could seduce them all ! {flexes adolescent muscles}

Riker: ...
Picard: ...
Troi: ...
Ro: ...
Laforge: ...
Warg: We're doomed.

Romance: 5143 {+1)
SciFi: 4872 {+18}
Warg: They're slowing to sublight, Captain.
Picard: Looks like you may get your chance, Mr. Crusher.
Wesley: {looking suddenly nervous} I won't let you down, Sir !
Warg: {waits for Wesley to leave} Captain, you can't be serious ... we're sending the boy ?! Please - let me arm the photon torpedoes.
Picard: {intercom} Bevery ... is the Romancian Pheremone Spray ready yet ?
Beverly: {intercom} Yes Captain, although I had to redo the formula 8 times. The 9th was the charm. Have you selected a code-word for it ?
Picard: I was thinking Axe.
Laforge: {guffaw}

SciFi: 4872 {+18}
Warg: They're slowing to sublight, Captain.
Picard: Looks like you may get your chance, Mr. Crusher.
Wesley: {looking suddenly nervous} I won't let you down, Sir !
Warg: {waits for Wesley to leave} Captain, you can't be serious ... we're sending the boy ?! Please - let me arm the photon torpedoes.
Picard: {intercom} Bevery ... is the Romancian Pheremone Spray ready yet ?
Beverly: {intercom} Yes Captain, although I had to redo the formula 8 times. The 9th was the charm. Have you selected a code-word for it ?
Picard: I was thinking Axe.
Laforge: {guffaw}
