Just Like Worf
by
Denise Keppel



DISCLAIMER: All characters mentioned belong to Marvel Comics. The story is the author's. Put those lawyers away, no copyright infringement has been intended.




It was a boring, do-nothing day. The world was safe, the biggest crime on television was the search for a small man who stole beer and sang "doop doop do," and there wasn't any spam on the acff newsgroup. Bishop was bored.

Checking the TV guide, he realized that he couldn't get his Worf fix this week; Deep Space Nine was a repeat. It wasn't enough to talk like Worf, Bishop wanted to be Worf. He could hide as many weapons on his body as Worf did, he could fight with a Bat'leth just like Worf did, and he could speak Klingon as well as Worf did. But it wasn't enough.

Deep down, Bishop knew it didn't matter if he could say "I am not a Merry Man" or list all the reasons that Dax was better for Worf than Deanna, or enjoy Klingon opera. He would never be Worf until he could handle pesky nuisances like his idol did. Sure, he had a lot of practice in that matter by dealing with Jubilee, but he never managed to incite fear the way Worf did.

The phone distracted Bishop from wondering what Alexander would look like and where he was. Carefully, he picked it up. "Hello?"

"I am calling on behalf of MS&T, the long distance carrier. We let you talk to who you want to talk to when you want to talk to them. Today, we are offering a special deal for people who sign up to allow us to handle their phone calls."

Ordinary, Bishop would have just hung up the phone, but since Bobby was caring for his dad, he was in charge of the X- Men's finances. "Go on."

"We will charge six cents a minute to those you call most in the country--"

"What if our number changes?" It never hurt to be sure that they could get in contact no matter where they were staying.

"As long as you let us know of the change in number, that'll be no problem."

Thinking of X-Force's habit of tearing up the place they were staying at, he asked "What if their number changes?"

The operator replied, "It's done on a month-to-month basis, so it wouldn't matter. We also have a fine deal on overseas calls--"

Bishop decided to test them on that. "Genosha?"

"Eight cents a minute."

"If the government is overthrown?"

"Ten cents a minute."

"Muir Island, Scotland?"

There was the sound of data being queried. "Eight and a half cents a minute."

"Madripoor?"

Again the operator entered the information. "Ten cents a minute."

"Avalon?"

The operator entered the information into the keyboard. "I'm sorry, I can't find a place like that."

"Shi'ar space?"

Again the operator entered the information. "I can't find that one either, sir."

"Brood space?"

"Umm, sir, I can't find a listing for that one."

"Kree space?"

"The Cree Native American Nation has a special rate of only six cents."

"I meant the aliens." Bishop was enjoying this. "You did promise I could talk to who I wanted to when I wanted?" Bishop asked, a grin breaking out over his face.

"Yes sir," the operator was starting to panic now. "But I can't find listings anywhere for these places--"

"How about other dimensions?"

"What?!?" the operator muttered.

"The past? The future? Alternative futures?"

"..." The operator didn't know what to say. Suddenly, the dial tone was heard as the operator hung up.

Bishop looked at the phone with a smile. He had intimidated that poor person. Now he felt more like Worf. Picking up the latest novel by Peter David, he started to read. Just let that phone ring one more time...



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