Gene Roddenberry has left Broken Bow, Oklahoma and is somewhere in Nevada, between Reno and Las Vegas. Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, in Rick Berman’s office, a devious plot is afoot.
Berman: My friends, I have called you here for a special occasion. (Berman looks around the room, which is occupied only by Berman and Brannon Braga)
Braga: Uh, sir, I’m the only one here.
Berman: Shut up, Braga. As I was saying, today marks a special event. And, we’re going to celebrate. (Pushes a button on his desk) Victoria.
Victoria: Yes, sir?
Berman: Send in Dr. Flotsham and his guests.
Victoria: Right away, sir.
(The doors slide open and Dr. Flotsham enters, pushing a cart covered with a white cloth. Following is the Michael Piller clone, with a blank expression on his face)
Flotsham: Mr. Berman, my lord, the cloning process is complete. I have everything you have asked for with me.
Berman: Excellent. Mr. Piller, have a seat.
Piller: Ugah boogah! (Sits down in the floor)
Berman: Do you have the other item I requested, Dr. Flotsham?
Flotsham: Indeed, I do, Mr. Berman. I have him here with me. Your clone. I have given him your personality, and he is in every way like you. Except he’s a little younger and ⅛ your size. (Flotsham removes the cloth, and reveals a very small person laying on the cart)
Berman: Excellent. I shall call him... Mini-Berman!
Braga: What the hell? He looks just like me!
(Berman and Braga and Flotsham look down and confirm what Mr. Braga has already told them. Michael Piller sticks his arm in his mouth and starts slobbering on it)
Mini-Berman: (Looks up. Indeed, he looks like a miniature version of Brannon Braga) Face my wrath!
Berman: I’m so proud. (A tear forms in his eye)
Braga: I’d still like to know what’s going on here. If he’s your clone, how come he looks like me?
Berman: Tell him, Flotsham.
Flotsham: Several years ago, Mr. Berman came to me wanting himself cloned, in the unlikely event he should die. I took some of his DNA and grew his clone in my laboratory. Braga, YOU were his clone. After we realized his clone was no longer necessary, at least at that time, Berman decided to make you a writer and an eventual producer on Star Trek.
Berman: Brannon, I am your father!
Braga: No! It’s not possible! I don’t believe you!
Berman: Look in your heart, my son. You know what I tell you is the truth.
Braga: (Starts crying like a little schoolgirl with a skinned knee)
Berman: But, with Mini-Berman here, your presence is no longer necessary. (Berman punches the button labeled “Mr. Braga")
Braga: (His chair lurches back, and he’s launched out, engulfed in flames) Arrrrggggh!
Berman: Come to think of it, your presence is no longer required either, Dr. Flotsham. (Berman presses the button labeled “Dr. Flotsham”, and Flotsham gets engulfed in flame too.) Everything is proceeding as planned.
Berman: Yes. As soon as Kate Mulgrew gets here, we had better move our operations to my secret hollowed-out volcano lair. Intelligence reports Gene Roddenberry is getting close. He poses a danger to this whole operation.
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the Paramount lot...
A tour is being guided by a very attractive Paramount employee. The tour moves on. All of a sudden, a bolt of electricity flies by. Then another. A gust of wind appears and several hundred bolts of electricity zip by, with the wind blowing garbage and script pages around. A large circular ball appears out of the electricity and dissipates, revealing a human-form huddled up in a fetal position. The form gets up. He starts heading toward the Paramount eatery. He opens the eatery door, and people immediately start looking at his naked body.
Cashier: Mr. Beltran, I’m afraid you need to be dressed before you can enter here.
Beltran: (Pays no attention to the cashier, and proceeds to walking in the eatery. He stops by the hanging chalkboard for a second to see what’s on special for lunch. Meatloaf with a side of leola root. Beltran shudders. He continues back to the back of the eatery, where he finds several figures sitting at a table. Garrett Wang, Robert Beltran, and Ethan Phillips are sitting down eating. They look up.)
Wang: Uh, what the hell am I looking at here?
Beltran: It looks like me... except without clothes.
Phillips: I’m not going to make any remarks about your genital size. Or should I say, the lack of size...
Beltran: Shut up.
Future-Beltran: I need your Starfleet uniform, your boots, and your tricorder.
(The whole group starts laughing maniacally)
Beltran: You forgot to say please.
(Future-Beltran picks up a leola root and stuffs it in Beltran’s mouth. Beltran immediately passes out, and Future-Beltran takes Beltran’s Starfleet uniform and puts it on. He then goes outside, leaving Wang and Phillips crying back at their table)
(Beltran looks around and is stopped by several Paramount guards wielding cattle prods.)
Guard: I can’t let you take the man’s uniform, son, now take it off before I put you down.
Future-Beltran: (Grabs the cattle prod and shocks the guard and walks off towards Berman’s office)
Guard #2: Mr. Berman warned us something like this may happen.
Guard #1: We must contact Lord Berman.
(The guards head back for their post, where they open a holographic comm link with Rick Berman.)
Berman: What is it?
Guard #2: This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Berman. The future Robert Beltran is here. We dare not go against him.
Berman: Guard, I don’t want this stunted slime in my sight again. This turn of events is unfortunate. We must accelerate our plans. Begin dispatching your security guards.
Guard: But, my Lord, is that... legal?
Berman: I will make it legal.
Guard: And, Robert Beltran?
Berman: Roddenberry should never have brought him into this. Kill him immediately.
Guard: Yes, my Lord. As you wish. (The holographic Rick Berman fades out.)