Parable of the Next Generation

My friend sent me a Yuugiou fanfic she co-wrote, which prompted me to send her a copy of the only fanfic I’ve ever written.

But a Google search turned up only a broken link, so once I found the story on, I put it on my personal site and touched it up with a little bit of HTML.

So, if you’re interested, read Parable of the Next Generation, a TNG fanfic with irreligious humor.


Rolling his eyes heavenward, Pope Jean-Luc Picard turned to see his latest
audience. Please, he prayed, not another Hubbard's Witness.

A creature bowed reverently to him. It was remarkably similar to every
other race he had ever met -- two eyes, two legs, two arms, two ears, and
so on -- except that it had an intricate design of some sort on its
forehead, probably glued on by a costumer in a hurry. "I greet you, Your
Holiness," it said in a human-sounding but slightly affected accent.

"So I see," observed Picard wryly (as usual). "Is that the insignia of
your order I see upon your forehead?"

"This? Oh, no, it's just what happens when you piss off a costumer with a
glue gun and a couple of spare yards of lace. You see, he was in a

"As a matter of fact, so am I. State your business, please. Better yet --
" He tapped the communicator on his mitre. "Archbishop O'Brien, one to be
assumed bodily into heaven."

The communicator sighed wearily. "Your Holiness, that's the fourth -- "

"Want to go for five?"

"No, sir. Understood, sir." The lace thing glowed briefly and reappeared
on the forward viewscreen, shrieking noiselessly.




Parable of the Next Generation, continued…


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