posted 12-17-98 03:01 AM ET        

Location: the desert
Time: dawn

The sun's first rays peeked over the mountains, illuminating the secluded valley the Dart had stopped in the night before. The man known as the Director General sat hunched over on a rock, fast asleep. The fire that he had made the night before had long since died. The DG slowly came back to the waking world. As was often the case, his dreams had been vivid, yet indecipherable. All at once, his brain kick started, remembering the strange events of the previous evening. Now sitting bolt upright, he found himself filled with a strange mixture of dread and curiosity. What had become of his trusty motorized sidekick? Slowly, slowly the Director General turned his head to look�

Where just a few hours ago had sat a 1970 Dodge Dart now rested a sleek greenish-yellow mottled object, vaguely resembling some form of streamlined arthropod. It looked to be about fifty feet in length, and about 15 feet around at the thickest point. One end, which to the DG appeared to the frontal facing, was tapered somewhat, and had a cluster of four spines arranged symmetrically about a concave ovular "nose". Towards what seemed to be the aft end there were four petal-like fins ringing the body of the beast, currently retracted up against the primary hull. It was a striking sight, and The Director General recognized it for what it was.

"A Vorlon personal transport vessel ?!? What is a fraging Vorlon transport doing here?!"

<<< I have always been here� >>>

"Oh, God don't even start that with me! Where is my Dart !?"

<<< I have not gone anywhere, Advinius. >>>

"Whoa! Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that you are my car?"

<<< Yes. It took me some time to find you. And the form of an automobile was� convenient at the time. >>>

"But, why look for me at all?"

<<< Every Vorlon has a ship. >>>

"HUH!?!?"

<<< Or to be more precise, you are a half-Vorlon. >>>

The Director General stood there dumbfounded for several minutes before replying.

"Well, that would explain a lot of things. So you are saying that I'm�"

<<< An alien love-child. >>>

"Great. I'm a headline for the National Enquirer."

<<< I realize this is something of a shock. However, on a happier note. I did take care of all that tampering the alien product testers have done to you over the years. >>>

"Hey, that's a bonus. So, you've got some pretty heavy firepower, yes?"

<<< Does a fish have gills? >>>

"Right, then. We still need to find a way to catch up with these CWAL HV types. But first, let's go have a chat with those damn big headed alien freaks about all those visits they've paid me. I'm felling really petty and vindictive right now."

<<< Groovy. >>>

The side of the ship rippled open, forming a doorway inside. The Director General started up the ramp, pausing halfway up.

"So, what do I call you?"

<<< I have become accustomed to "Dart", thank you. >>>

"OK. Shall we go have a little fun then?"

<<< By all means. >>>

posted 12-17-98 01:30 PM ET            

*CWAL Deathmatch*

Announcer: Circle of the Shadows and Pay-Per-View are proud to present CWAL DEATHMATCH! Tonight, we have a special presentation for you! We will be deviating from our usual one-on-one no rules in the ring battle. Instead, via sattelite transmition, we'll take you to orbit, where our 2 combatants will square off in their heavily armed space ships! But first, HERE ARE YOUR FIGHTERS!

*Spotlights shift to an entry, and the curtain opens.*

Announcer: First, your DEFENDING CHAMPION, the Canadian with the cattle prod, FRON!!!

*Fron comes out waving his cattle prod around while the crowd goes insane.*

Annoncer: And the challenger, with his brand new Vorlon ship, The DIRECTOR GENERAL!

*The Director General comes out, and as with Fron, the crowd goes wild.*

Announcer: Alright gentlemen, you know the rules, NOW LETS GET READY TO RUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE!!!!!!

*Fron and the Director General both head for their ships.*

Announcer: We now take you to orbit, where the combat is about to begin!

*An extremely large monitor comes down and the image of space appears on it. To the left, Fron's precursor vessel, the CMS Canuck comes into view, looking for it's prey. Little does it know that it's prey is right behind it. Closing fast was Dart.*

*As Dart prepared to fire, the energy buildup was noticed aboard the Canuck. Knowing he was being fired upon, Fron reached for a button.*

*Dart fired. But, where the Canuck had once been, there was now empty space. On a hunch, Dart turned 180 and fired again, right into the face of the Canuck, which had teleported behind it. Not taking the time to aim, the Canuck fired missiles at Dart, while none actually hit the Dart, they were enough to take the blast from it's weapons.*

*Moving quickly, Fron moved the Canuck near the Dart. As soon as it was in range, the targeting systems on the Canuck took aim and fired super-heated plasma at the Dart. The Dart was badly damaged and began to spin out of control. But being a Vorlon ship, the automatic repair systems activated, and quickly repaired the damage to the ship.*

*Thinking that he had surely won, Fron let his attention falter, and didn't notice the Dart coming at him again. The DG lined up the Canuck directly in his sights and fired. As luck would have it, Fron noticed just in time to acivate the teleportation device, but not enough to input any co-ordinates. The Canuck disappeared in a flash, but did not reappear.*

Announcer: Fron has left the battlefield! The winner, by default, THE DIRECTOR GENERAL!!!

*Not acutally caring who won, the crowd went wild.*

(Scece: Somewhere)

*Above the green rolling hills, there was a flash, and the CMS Canuck appeared. Landing, Fron came down the ramp.*

Fron: Stupid teleporter.

*Noticing a cow grazing, Fron decided to take out some of his rage and zapped it with his cattle prod. The cow mooed in anger. Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling, as a heard of cattle came over one of the hills. If a cow could grin, the one Fron zapped would have grinned at him.*

Fron: Uh-oh.

(Fade to black)

This of course, was non-canon (as in, no relevence what so-ever). No cows were hurt during the making production. Okay, some probably were, but we didn't have anything to do with that. So what I'm saying is that no cows were harmed in relation to this production. Unless you count the burgers we had one day for lunch. And then there was that horse that wandered on to the set, that was an unfortunate incident. What? I'm rambling again? Okay, I'll stop now.

posted 12-18-98 10:37 AM ET            

"Two men enter! One man leaves!"