Bev's Revenge, or NOW I Know How You Feel - by Lord Eccles
This story may not be a pretty sight for the men, but it is one for the ladies. It just occurs to me that ST:TNG seems to ignore a few basic patterns of behavior inherent to human beings. It assumes that any personality faults or levels of ignorance are minimal or non-existent. I've yet to meet anyone like this. It also assumes that some basic bodily functions either have been completely eliminated, or have no effect on the crew and thus never turn up.
The tale does touch on a delicate subject of this nature - the menstrual cycle. Now, hands up all the lads out there in Internetland who have comforted their girlfriends/wives at 'that time of the month', and used that all-purpose phrase "I can imagine what it's like"? Well I have some bad news for us fellas, we don't know shite. Now in writing this, as a male, I could only speak from my own observations of my family and friends, so I made sure two female beta readers went through it to keep it on the right track (thanks to Quoth & Dot!).
Everything is, of course, exaggerated - so don't think that these types of reactions are what I consider normal with regards to menstruality. It only seeks to find what would happen if the uninitiated male of the species happened to cop it.
It's important to remember that this is thinking comedy. It's not something you can just lay back and read like a zombie, you are required to use your mind. So if the thought of reality scares you, don't read this. Sod off and read some shithouse Mary Sue story, see who cares.
The names, characters, and various trademarks are the property of Paramount. The story itself is mine, but I don't think Paramount wants it. And as for whose property the menstrual cycle is, well, anyone who does own it probably doesn't want it either.
Feedback? Criticisms? Ideas? Licentious abuse? Please feel free to hurl it at lordeccles@yahoo.com - and don't be afraid, I mean if I can write something like this I think I can handle a bit of constructive criticism.
(Oh, and there is a scene from Planes, Trains & Automobiles that I couldn't help but put in!)
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 48 HOURS
"God, not again."
It had become a recurring thing in Dr. Crusher's life, but it would never become a routine. Every four weeks it came back again, and for two days she would become Dr. Jekyll transformed. For years unending it seemed to have been going on, and what respite was there in all that time? Nine months of it, that was all. And being pregnant was hardly preferable. If given the choice of being moody and having cramps monthly, or nine months of morning sickness, it wouldn't take long to decide.
Not that it was much comfort. "All those stupid males who said they loved my body. Well let's see what they'd think if they had to go through this all the time!" Beverly spat out ruefully. "Oooh yes, I was SO beautiful, they said. How quickly would I swap this body with them!"
Many treatments had been discovered over the years, but none of them had much of a lasting effect. Injections were a fad for a while, but after fifty years humankind had slowly developed an immunity to them. Surgery? A bit permanent, and she didn't trust any of her underlings to put the knife to her, let alone with THAT.
Great. Jean-Luc's coming. Go away if you value your life, Captain....
"Dr. Crusher?" Picard's monotone announced.
"What?" Beverly snapped back.
"Oh... is something the matter?"
"No, no, it's nothing. Just a bit tired, that's all. Now, what did you want?"
Picard looked down on Beverly, in every way possible. Tired? We're all tired! What's so different about her? "All right Doctor."
Beverly noted an impatient edge in Picard's voice. He is going to die, unless he leaves within the next thirty seconds. How DARE he...
"You would have received reports of some new strain of virus that has affected various crew members." Picard continued. "What can you tell me about it?"
"Right now, not much. From my own diagnosis it is very similar to a basic flu virus. Not terribly contagious, not dangerous at all, very easily cured." And her own voice became impatient. "I think that quarantine would be something of an overreaction."
Picard of course detected the tone of superiority Beverly enforced. 'Tired? I don't think so.' he thought. His voice changed from the robotic monotone to the gentle father (as if Picard actually liked kids). "Sorry Beverly, I was just unsure. Are you sure you're okay? You seem very stressed."
Bev saw his transformation. 'Okay, he'll get a temporary reprieve.' she decided. "I know, I'm sorry. You wouldn't understand."
"Come along, Dr. Crusher. You know me."
Yes I do, that's why I know you wouldn't understand. "Don't worry."
"What's the matter?" insisted Picard.
Oh all right. Anything to shut him up.
"I'm... umm... having my period."
-SNAP- Any sympathy Picard instantly disappeared. "Is that all? I should have thought you'd be used to it by now."
Kill. Kill! KILL!!!!!!
"Used to it!!?" Beverly shrieked in utter disbelief. "You don't know a thing about it!!"
"Now look!" Picard was visibly enraged at something he thought so petty doing this to one of his officers. "You are a Starfleet officer! You do not let your personal problems interfere with your work - you have too much responsibility! Now never let me hear of it again! Do you understand?"
Ooooohhh, he is mine. He is all mine....
Her voice was suddenly calm - the calm of one who's just gone insane. "Yes sir."
Picard stared at her as she returned to her work, before he stomped out of the room. "Women." he muttered.
Beverly stared after him for a while after he left. "I think," she said to herself "that it is time. All those bastards! I'll show them what it's like! Oooh, will I! Computer, bring up the Masculus Menstruarite file."
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 45 HOURS
She needed some way to get all of the male crew to her, she couldn't just go around injecting everybody. An epidemic was needed - then they'd have to come to her. "Damn ventilation system! Not designed for comfort, that's for certain."
She planned to leave a large growth of a moss she had been growing which emanated a gas that caused various minor symptoms, headache, sweating etc. "Now, where the hell am I? Oh, this'll do! It'll spread." She opened a petri dish, and liberally matted out some of the moss onto a propeller shaft. Climbing out, her mouth flattened out to an evil smile as she felt the effects of the moss on her already.
Beverly had spent many hours in the past creating the chemical Masculus Menstruarite (or MM as she called it), just in case she got the urge for revenge like this. It was designed to simulate the menstrual cycle in beings where it did not normally happen. The only place she could think of that it didn't happen was in men. Hence, she could now give men periods.
The thought of what their faces would be like kept her smiling for days. But the solution alone would not cause anything. A second agent, a gas, also had to be inhaled at some later stage to trigger the process. On its own the gas was harmless, and it had no color or odor whatsoever. But to those with MM in their system, the gas would REALLY have an effect. And no one could possibly know how it happened.
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 22 HOURS
There was, of course, panic for a while. The moss lived up to Beverly's expectations, and the mild illness spread throughout the entire ship. The entire ship had to report to Sick Bay to receive various shots. Normally her assistants would have helped, but she had created a story that the various procedures for relieving the patient were very precise, and she had to do it personally. "This is just too easy." Beverly thought. "Come on in then, let the fun commence..."
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 18 HOURS
"Next. Right, sit down."
"Yes sir." Ensign Johansen said obediently.
"All right, we'll make this quick. There's that many people waiting we can't hang about. A dose of this, and (she couldn't help but smile at this part) another of this. There! If it doesn't clear up in 24 hours report back."
"Okay. Thank you sir."
"Thank you..." And in five weeks, you'll get the shock of your life.
90 crewmembers had passed through. 57 of them males, 57 hyposprays of MM, 57 shocks soon to come. Beverly had, of course, changed the dosage of MM so that the periods would come in different time spans. A weak dose would cause the cycle to take three months, a larger one two weeks, normal dose four weeks etc, otherwise half the entire crew would be copping it at the same time. A deadly mixture, especially for 'first-timers', so to speak. Beverly was trying very hard to keep herself from falling about laughing. "Next!" she cried out in a joy she'd never felt before. The door to Sick Bay opened.
"Data..." Her voice trailed away, as did her smile.
"Dr. Crusher." he replied in greeting.
'I can't do this to Data.' Beverly thought. He DOES know about it, although he's never been through it. He understands what it must be like. He'd never be cruel about it. "Sit down Data." he did.
Just the anti-viral shot for him. "There you go. Take care."
"Thank you Dr. Crusher. May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"You appeared to be very disappointed to see me when I came in. Your voice seemed quite jovial before that."
"Oh, never mind about that. No, it's nothing to do with you. I'm fine."
"All right. Thank you again." Data strode out of the room. Beverly could only stare at him for a while. They're not all idiots, she thought. But some of them do deserve it. I'll just be selective, that's all.
The entire crew of the Enterprise passed by. Bev found herself acting as judge and jury (and usually executioner) of the entire male crew, deciding whose character deserved punishment. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. A fair few crewmembers copped her wrath, but the greatest feeling of satisfaction came from the other officers. She casted her mind back, and checked whether or not they made some idiotic comment in the past.
Riker. No contest - he HAS to have it! Deanna told me about a chat they both had, what did he say to her?
"You don't understand Will. You'll never understand." Troi always did get so much more emotional that usual. Riker never was much help, this time especially.
"I do, Deanna. I do."
"NO YOU DON'T!! YOU CAN'T!!! You try going through this!"
"Fine! Just put someone on mop detail afterwards!" he shouted as he left. And then he had the nerve to nag about it to the rest of the officers in 10 Forward. Just as well I overheard them.
Well then Troi, soon he will be going through this. It's the least he deserves. How about every... oooh... week.
Worf. She thought about it for a while. What did he say in 10 Forward? I distinctly heard Worf say "That response is typically human. If she is truly strong, she will overcome these difficulties."
Let's see if you can overcome THIS 'difficulty'. Make it every four weeks for Worf.
Geordi. He never was the best judge of character. Gentle, yes, but he will learn. His words were "I don't know, but how bad can it be?" This bad, LaForge. Six weeks for you.
O'Brien? No, he's a good man. His wife told me that he did his best to make it easier, he knew he couldn't know. I'll give him a shot of whisky though, he'll like that. Call it a reward.
And then, there he was. That man. That 'Captain'. See if YOU get used to it. No debate. No questions asked. He must PAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Every three days...
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS SEVEN MINUTES
All the crew had filed past, Beverly sat alone in Sick Bay. She was very tired - it'd been a long day. All was in readiness. At the push of a button the ventilation systems would send out the gas agent to simultaneously set the cycles in motion for all the pricks out there. "I've come this far," she murmured. "why can't I just finish the job?"
One of Picard's words had struck a chord in her. Responsibility. This would cause mayhem! Men having moodswings like this all of a sudden could be very dangerous. Who knows what could happen? Fights? Murder? It was quite possible, this would be quite a culture shock for them.
Hard as she fought with her conscience, she could almost hear the demon whispering in her ear. "Overcome this 'difficulty' they said... Fine, just mop it up they said... how bad could it be they said... uh oh, the Red Baron's in town they said..."
She knew who was winning.
"You should be used to it by now, HE said..."
-Beep-
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
ZERO HOUR
And it was done. The gas was released. Beverly had flipped the switch that started the clock on a time bomb newly installed into 227 men on the Enterprise. And every time one went off, there would always be another one. Later she realised that there wasn't a counter-agent to MM, but this only made her happier. They'll never stop. Never! And Captain, Jean-Luc, in two days you'll get a visit from the PMT Fairy. And another one three days after that. And another, and another, and another! Welcome to Hell. Welcome to MY world...
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$
This story may not be a pretty sight for the men, but it is one for the ladies. It just occurs to me that ST:TNG seems to ignore a few basic patterns of behavior inherent to human beings. It assumes that any personality faults or levels of ignorance are minimal or non-existent. I've yet to meet anyone like this. It also assumes that some basic bodily functions either have been completely eliminated, or have no effect on the crew and thus never turn up.
The tale does touch on a delicate subject of this nature - the menstrual cycle. Now, hands up all the lads out there in Internetland who have comforted their girlfriends/wives at 'that time of the month', and used that all-purpose phrase "I can imagine what it's like"? Well I have some bad news for us fellas, we don't know shite. Now in writing this, as a male, I could only speak from my own observations of my family and friends, so I made sure two female beta readers went through it to keep it on the right track (thanks to Quoth & Dot!).
Everything is, of course, exaggerated - so don't think that these types of reactions are what I consider normal with regards to menstruality. It only seeks to find what would happen if the uninitiated male of the species happened to cop it.
It's important to remember that this is thinking comedy. It's not something you can just lay back and read like a zombie, you are required to use your mind. So if the thought of reality scares you, don't read this. Sod off and read some shithouse Mary Sue story, see who cares.
The names, characters, and various trademarks are the property of Paramount. The story itself is mine, but I don't think Paramount wants it. And as for whose property the menstrual cycle is, well, anyone who does own it probably doesn't want it either.
Feedback? Criticisms? Ideas? Licentious abuse? Please feel free to hurl it at lordeccles@yahoo.com - and don't be afraid, I mean if I can write something like this I think I can handle a bit of constructive criticism.
(Oh, and there is a scene from Planes, Trains & Automobiles that I couldn't help but put in!)
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 48 HOURS
"God, not again."
It had become a recurring thing in Dr. Crusher's life, but it would never become a routine. Every four weeks it came back again, and for two days she would become Dr. Jekyll transformed. For years unending it seemed to have been going on, and what respite was there in all that time? Nine months of it, that was all. And being pregnant was hardly preferable. If given the choice of being moody and having cramps monthly, or nine months of morning sickness, it wouldn't take long to decide.
Not that it was much comfort. "All those stupid males who said they loved my body. Well let's see what they'd think if they had to go through this all the time!" Beverly spat out ruefully. "Oooh yes, I was SO beautiful, they said. How quickly would I swap this body with them!"
Many treatments had been discovered over the years, but none of them had much of a lasting effect. Injections were a fad for a while, but after fifty years humankind had slowly developed an immunity to them. Surgery? A bit permanent, and she didn't trust any of her underlings to put the knife to her, let alone with THAT.
Great. Jean-Luc's coming. Go away if you value your life, Captain....
"Dr. Crusher?" Picard's monotone announced.
"What?" Beverly snapped back.
"Oh... is something the matter?"
"No, no, it's nothing. Just a bit tired, that's all. Now, what did you want?"
Picard looked down on Beverly, in every way possible. Tired? We're all tired! What's so different about her? "All right Doctor."
Beverly noted an impatient edge in Picard's voice. He is going to die, unless he leaves within the next thirty seconds. How DARE he...
"You would have received reports of some new strain of virus that has affected various crew members." Picard continued. "What can you tell me about it?"
"Right now, not much. From my own diagnosis it is very similar to a basic flu virus. Not terribly contagious, not dangerous at all, very easily cured." And her own voice became impatient. "I think that quarantine would be something of an overreaction."
Picard of course detected the tone of superiority Beverly enforced. 'Tired? I don't think so.' he thought. His voice changed from the robotic monotone to the gentle father (as if Picard actually liked kids). "Sorry Beverly, I was just unsure. Are you sure you're okay? You seem very stressed."
Bev saw his transformation. 'Okay, he'll get a temporary reprieve.' she decided. "I know, I'm sorry. You wouldn't understand."
"Come along, Dr. Crusher. You know me."
Yes I do, that's why I know you wouldn't understand. "Don't worry."
"What's the matter?" insisted Picard.
Oh all right. Anything to shut him up.
"I'm... umm... having my period."
-SNAP- Any sympathy Picard instantly disappeared. "Is that all? I should have thought you'd be used to it by now."
Kill. Kill! KILL!!!!!!
"Used to it!!?" Beverly shrieked in utter disbelief. "You don't know a thing about it!!"
"Now look!" Picard was visibly enraged at something he thought so petty doing this to one of his officers. "You are a Starfleet officer! You do not let your personal problems interfere with your work - you have too much responsibility! Now never let me hear of it again! Do you understand?"
Ooooohhh, he is mine. He is all mine....
Her voice was suddenly calm - the calm of one who's just gone insane. "Yes sir."
Picard stared at her as she returned to her work, before he stomped out of the room. "Women." he muttered.
Beverly stared after him for a while after he left. "I think," she said to herself "that it is time. All those bastards! I'll show them what it's like! Oooh, will I! Computer, bring up the Masculus Menstruarite file."
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 45 HOURS
She needed some way to get all of the male crew to her, she couldn't just go around injecting everybody. An epidemic was needed - then they'd have to come to her. "Damn ventilation system! Not designed for comfort, that's for certain."
She planned to leave a large growth of a moss she had been growing which emanated a gas that caused various minor symptoms, headache, sweating etc. "Now, where the hell am I? Oh, this'll do! It'll spread." She opened a petri dish, and liberally matted out some of the moss onto a propeller shaft. Climbing out, her mouth flattened out to an evil smile as she felt the effects of the moss on her already.
Beverly had spent many hours in the past creating the chemical Masculus Menstruarite (or MM as she called it), just in case she got the urge for revenge like this. It was designed to simulate the menstrual cycle in beings where it did not normally happen. The only place she could think of that it didn't happen was in men. Hence, she could now give men periods.
The thought of what their faces would be like kept her smiling for days. But the solution alone would not cause anything. A second agent, a gas, also had to be inhaled at some later stage to trigger the process. On its own the gas was harmless, and it had no color or odor whatsoever. But to those with MM in their system, the gas would REALLY have an effect. And no one could possibly know how it happened.
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 22 HOURS
There was, of course, panic for a while. The moss lived up to Beverly's expectations, and the mild illness spread throughout the entire ship. The entire ship had to report to Sick Bay to receive various shots. Normally her assistants would have helped, but she had created a story that the various procedures for relieving the patient were very precise, and she had to do it personally. "This is just too easy." Beverly thought. "Come on in then, let the fun commence..."
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS 18 HOURS
"Next. Right, sit down."
"Yes sir." Ensign Johansen said obediently.
"All right, we'll make this quick. There's that many people waiting we can't hang about. A dose of this, and (she couldn't help but smile at this part) another of this. There! If it doesn't clear up in 24 hours report back."
"Okay. Thank you sir."
"Thank you..." And in five weeks, you'll get the shock of your life.
90 crewmembers had passed through. 57 of them males, 57 hyposprays of MM, 57 shocks soon to come. Beverly had, of course, changed the dosage of MM so that the periods would come in different time spans. A weak dose would cause the cycle to take three months, a larger one two weeks, normal dose four weeks etc, otherwise half the entire crew would be copping it at the same time. A deadly mixture, especially for 'first-timers', so to speak. Beverly was trying very hard to keep herself from falling about laughing. "Next!" she cried out in a joy she'd never felt before. The door to Sick Bay opened.
"Data..." Her voice trailed away, as did her smile.
"Dr. Crusher." he replied in greeting.
'I can't do this to Data.' Beverly thought. He DOES know about it, although he's never been through it. He understands what it must be like. He'd never be cruel about it. "Sit down Data." he did.
Just the anti-viral shot for him. "There you go. Take care."
"Thank you Dr. Crusher. May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"You appeared to be very disappointed to see me when I came in. Your voice seemed quite jovial before that."
"Oh, never mind about that. No, it's nothing to do with you. I'm fine."
"All right. Thank you again." Data strode out of the room. Beverly could only stare at him for a while. They're not all idiots, she thought. But some of them do deserve it. I'll just be selective, that's all.
The entire crew of the Enterprise passed by. Bev found herself acting as judge and jury (and usually executioner) of the entire male crew, deciding whose character deserved punishment. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. A fair few crewmembers copped her wrath, but the greatest feeling of satisfaction came from the other officers. She casted her mind back, and checked whether or not they made some idiotic comment in the past.
Riker. No contest - he HAS to have it! Deanna told me about a chat they both had, what did he say to her?
"You don't understand Will. You'll never understand." Troi always did get so much more emotional that usual. Riker never was much help, this time especially.
"I do, Deanna. I do."
"NO YOU DON'T!! YOU CAN'T!!! You try going through this!"
"Fine! Just put someone on mop detail afterwards!" he shouted as he left. And then he had the nerve to nag about it to the rest of the officers in 10 Forward. Just as well I overheard them.
Well then Troi, soon he will be going through this. It's the least he deserves. How about every... oooh... week.
Worf. She thought about it for a while. What did he say in 10 Forward? I distinctly heard Worf say "That response is typically human. If she is truly strong, she will overcome these difficulties."
Let's see if you can overcome THIS 'difficulty'. Make it every four weeks for Worf.
Geordi. He never was the best judge of character. Gentle, yes, but he will learn. His words were "I don't know, but how bad can it be?" This bad, LaForge. Six weeks for you.
O'Brien? No, he's a good man. His wife told me that he did his best to make it easier, he knew he couldn't know. I'll give him a shot of whisky though, he'll like that. Call it a reward.
And then, there he was. That man. That 'Captain'. See if YOU get used to it. No debate. No questions asked. He must PAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Every three days...
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
T MINUS SEVEN MINUTES
All the crew had filed past, Beverly sat alone in Sick Bay. She was very tired - it'd been a long day. All was in readiness. At the push of a button the ventilation systems would send out the gas agent to simultaneously set the cycles in motion for all the pricks out there. "I've come this far," she murmured. "why can't I just finish the job?"
One of Picard's words had struck a chord in her. Responsibility. This would cause mayhem! Men having moodswings like this all of a sudden could be very dangerous. Who knows what could happen? Fights? Murder? It was quite possible, this would be quite a culture shock for them.
Hard as she fought with her conscience, she could almost hear the demon whispering in her ear. "Overcome this 'difficulty' they said... Fine, just mop it up they said... how bad could it be they said... uh oh, the Red Baron's in town they said..."
She knew who was winning.
"You should be used to it by now, HE said..."
-Beep-
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$%@
ZERO HOUR
And it was done. The gas was released. Beverly had flipped the switch that started the clock on a time bomb newly installed into 227 men on the Enterprise. And every time one went off, there would always be another one. Later she realised that there wasn't a counter-agent to MM, but this only made her happier. They'll never stop. Never! And Captain, Jean-Luc, in two days you'll get a visit from the PMT Fairy. And another one three days after that. And another, and another, and another! Welcome to Hell. Welcome to MY world...
%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$%@$@%@$%@$%@$%@$