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Babylaniacs

(See also Tom Smith's "Babyloniacs95")


It's time for Babylaniacs
And we're spacey to the max
So sit down but don't relax
You'll stop dead in your tracks
We're Babylaniacs!

John Sheridan's the captain
At the hierarchy's top
Ivanova's his second
Just don't ask her 'bout her tots
Michael Garibaldi
The station's local cop
The writer "eep"s
Production creeps
But now we've lost the plot

We're Babylaniacs
Londo's cute and Lennier yaks
Franklin sends away the quacks
Zeta wing repels attacks
We're Babylaniacs!

See Morden and Mollari
Try to rule the universe
Garibaldi will arrest you
If you try to snatch a purse
Psi Corps's crazy antics
Make Talia scream and curse
The Shadows came
Things aren't the same
It can't get any worse!

We're Babylaniacs
We have five-year-long contracts
We make sure to get the clasp
Before we zip up our slacks
We're Babylaney...
Coming through the gate-y...
G'Kar likes the ladies...
Babylaniacs!

What are the facts?


It's time for another

Good Idea / Bad Idea.

Good idea: Getting a Centauri drunk so as to pump him for information.

Bad idea: Getting a Minbari drunk so as to pump him for information.

The end.


Chorus (singing): The crankiest of Russians since the world begun, It's Susan Ivanova and Tech #1!

Ivanova: Would you pipe down? I'm trying to work here!

Chorus (singing): Thaaaaat's Susan!

Tech #1: Commander, something's coming through the jumpgate. It's a Drazi Sunhawk.

Ivanova: Open a communication channel. Drazi vessel, Deathwalker isn't here. I think she went... (points offscreen) thataway.

Drazi officer, on screen: We know that, Babylon control, we've been watching the re-runs. We are here because we have heard that you are harboring green Drazi. Surrender them immediately or be destroyed!

Tech #1: They're opening their gun ports.

Ivanova (innocently): Oh, so that's why they all left the station.

Drazi: They've left? Where are they now?

Ivanova: Apparently the green Drazi got news of your arrival and hid somewhere on the planet beneath us.

Drazi (disappointed): Oh. Any idea where they went?

Ivanova: Well, there's this one cave that looks nice and safe because it's five miles deep, but I happen to know that you can reach it through a fissure that goes all the way up to the surface.

Drazi (happy again): Thank you, Earthling! We appreciate your help. Um... You're not going to warn them of our arrival, are you? We hope this to be a... (consults a Drazi-English dictionary) surprise party (winks).

Ivanova: I wouldn't dream of it.

The Drazi ship heads down toward the planet and is blasted to smithereens by the planetary defense system. Loudly and messily.

Ivanova: Now that's what I call self-sacrifice.


Londo (holding drink): So, my good fellow, what are we going to do tonight?

Morden: The same thing we do every night, ambassador: try to take over the universe!

Londo: So, Meester Morden. What is tonight's plan for taking over the universe?

Morden: It's quite simple, really: we're going to interrupt the alcohol supply to Babylon 5. In a few hours, all the ambassadors will sober up, realize where they are, and run screaming back to their respective planets. Meanwhile, we'll be left alone here to take over the universe.

Londo: Aah, quite a daring scheme. There is only one fault with it that I can see: we too would be left with nothing to drink.

Morden: Not quite: we'll keep an ample supply for ourselves. Are you pondering what I'm pondering?

Londo: I think so, my good fellow, but I don't have a Minbari soul.

Morden: Sigh Sometimes, I really wish I had chosen that G'Kar fellow. Come! We have work to do.

[Morden and Londo use forged documents to divert all alcohol-bearing ships into the sun. After a while, the various ambassadors realize where they are, and book passage on the first available transport off-station.]

Morden: Excellent! And now, we must call a press conference to inform the galaxy that we are now their masters!

[A conference room. Morden and Londo are standing at a podium. As the camera pulls back, it becomes obvious that they are the only ones there.]

Morden: I don't understand! What happened? Where is everyone?

Londo: It seems that you omitted to take into account the fact that no reporter would willingly stay in a place that did not serve alcohol.

Chorus (singing): They're sneaky, they're Londo and Morden, den, den, den, den.


[Talia Winters and a man in a business suit walk into the conference room.]

Man: ...Now these negotiations are still at a very early stage, so you'll be required to keep anything you hear confidential. The man we're meeting is... Ah, there he is.

[They sit down at a table opposite a six-legged creature. It is not so much a being as a hole in space. It is wearing a bowler hat.]

Man (to creature): Mr. Boo, this is Talia Winters, our resident commercial telepath. She'll be monitoring this conversation.

Talia (to man): Um, sir. Actually, he's a shadow.

Man: I will not have you insulting my guest in this manner! Apologize to him at once!

Talia: He's a shadow, I tell you. A freaking shadow!

Man: Enough of this! Let's get on to business, shall we? (To creature) What would you say to seven million credits?

Boo: (stares at man and says nothing)

Man: All right, how about ten million credits and six percent of the profits?

Boo: (keeps staring)

Man (exasperated): Oh, all right! Fifty percent of the profits, all of our martian holdings, and the next seven planets we discover! That's my final offer!

Boo: (stares)

Man: Well, then, I think we're agreed. (Shakes Boo's... um... appendage. Boo's hat falls off.)

Man: Gasp! He is a shadow!

[An enraged mob of businessmen grab Boo and shove him out the nearest airlock.]

Chorus (singing): You wear a disguise to look like human guys, But you're not a man, you're a Shadow, Boo.


Sheridan: It's that time again!

Ivanova: To foment unrest on Mars?

Garibaldi: To watch Warner Brothers cartoons?

Sheridan: No, it's time to get some enigmatic clue as to what's really going on behind the scenes in the universe. And for that, we turn to... the Vorlon of Puzzlement!

[Kosh glides in]

Sheridan: Vorlon of Puzzlement,
Blink, blink, blink.
Give a pronouncement
And make us think.

Kosh: A gift of time needs no wrapping paper.

Ivanova: Sounds like the Vorlon of Puzzlement is having a bad hair day.

Garibaldi: I'm still completely confused.


[Someone recently asked me if I was going to write any new installments. I said that since Kosh is dead, the Vorlon of Puzzlement bit might lose some of its oomph, as this example illustrates:]

Sheridan: It's that time again!

Marcus: To fight for truth, justice and our lives?

Ivanova: To travel back in time and found an ancient religion?

Sheridan: No, it's time for today's lesson. And for that, we turn to the Vorlon of Puzzlement.

Sheridan: Vorlon of Puzzlement
Lie, lie, lie
Lie on the ground, there
And look at the sky

Kosh: ...

Marcus: Susan, did you forget to pay the Vorlon bill this month?