"Barry, why did you shave your hair off?" Richard Blanker asks.
Barry Winchentile is wearing a handmade Captain's uniform made by his sister and his hair clearly has been shaved off. Barry is at least 11 years old with clear blue eyes and instead of five fingers on his left hand he has six. Barry considers his sixth finger 'the lucky finger' since if his pinkie is unable to operate the lucky finger is able to work in it's place.
"Because I am playing Captain Picard,number one," Barry said.
"We haven't entered the studio, yet," Blanker replies.
Blanker is obviously playing Commander Riker.
Katie Patterson is playing Doctor Crusher, Blanker's friend Jack Wikers is playing Worf, and Diego Viego is playing La Forge,and another kid named Joe Smoe is portraying a rather younger version of Q. The kids brought their own props, including cameras,to make it their experience.
"Well, you look good with a bald head," Patterson said.
"And he'll have to regrow it," Wikers said.
"Does anyone know we are documenting our last run through in the studio?" Viego asks.
Data is up the stairs leaning against the rail overlooking the children.
"Um, no," Blanker said.
"Hey, where is Washington?" Barry asks. "He's suppose to play our Mr Data!"
"He is sick," Smoe said.
"All I hear is lies from you,Smoe," Barry said.
"Hey, not my fault I lie to get your butts out of trouble!" Smoe retorts.
"Enough of this," Wikers said. "Let's get the cameras rolling."
"All right!" The kids said.
The kids set up their setting and the cameras. Eventually came back in a small circle appearing to be confused as though they were expecting a additional person. They share quick glances then eye at the door. Barry sighs lowering his head then rubs the side of his temple coming to a rather sound solution. At least it was sound in his mind but rather not sound to everyone else part of this production.
"Let's improvise away the whole Data is sick deal," Barry said.
"But Data is very important to the script!" Patterson claims.
"Smoe, you are filling in Washington's role by taking the place of the thing that ties this whole plot together," Barry said.
Smoe shook his head.
"But it won't be the same," Viego said. "Tonight is our last chance to play this Star Trek Fanon episode as a group of friends before it is too late."
"We can always reunite ten years from now and do this again," Barry suggests.
"We won't have that chance," Viego persists.
"Seesh, I may be rich by this time," Barry said. "We can rent this studio for a whole day."
"It won't be the same without Data in the picture," Viego remarks. "He's the very thing that binds everyone together."
"Because he is friends with everyone, nearly," Barry said.
"Correct," Viego said.
The group leave the studio.
They came back thirty minutes later with Tyrone Washington who is sick with the flu. The boy had a box of kleanex with him in his right hand. Data hid in the shadows watching them go through the doorway. Washington apparently is in make up and a Star Fleet uniform strikingly resembling Data's uniform. Data looks down towards his uniform then back up. They had replicas of the communicator on their shirt. He manages to get through the doorway out into the lightly raining scenery.
There is a parked van with headlights on mere feet away from the door.
Data walks towards the car.
Paul Blanker, age 22, is sitting in the drivers seat tapping his fingers on the wheel. Paul is Richard's big brother who understands their adoration and friendship tied to a show he can't wrap his head around. The only reason why he agreed to help the batch of friends was because he pitied them. Paul saw a dark lanky figure come over towards the van. Probably the three kids decided to scare the bajeers out of him. But they won't be able to scare dear old Paul. Paul has suffered the antics of his little brother and older sister Jessie Blanker so much that nothing scares him.
Paul rolls down the window.
"Joe," Paul said. "I know that is you."
"My name is Data," Came a voice he only heard on the TV. "Not Joe."
Paul looks over with fear in his eyes.
"So what is the matter?" Data asks. "Those kids act like they won't see each other again."
"OH MY GOD," Paul shouts, falling to his side.
"'Pardon me?" Data said.
"You can't be real!" Paul exclaims.
"I am real," Data said. "Now, can I get a answer?"
"The whole block is getting turned into a mall," Paul said. "And everyone is moving away to different places."
"Aw," Data said. "That is sad."
"Yeah, it is," Paul said.
"Then you might want to know how I am real," Data said, to which he earns a nod from Paul. "You see...I and Geordi went through a wormhole. Only thing is we came to Earth instead of another quadrant. Our ship was hit by space junk and so we crash landed in Miami, Florida."
"Uh, is there anything I can do, Mr Data?" Paul asks.
"No," Data said. "Well...You can not tell anyone about this conversation we shared."
"Understood," Paul said. "So...How are you going to get home?"
"That is my concern," Data said. "And you wouldn't want to know."
"Right," Paul said. "Sci-Fi confuses me."
"Yet, you understood my current situation," Data said. "You have some grasp on science fiction."
"Just a little," Paul said.
"Good enough for me," Data said. "Have a good day..."
"Paul," Paul said.
"Goodbye, Paul," Data said, and then he parts ways back into the studio.
He wanted to see their play.