Legal Stuff: Other people own Star Trek. I’m just playing. Really. And don’t tell Patrick Stewart about this story. Please. You can tell Majel. She’d probably laugh. But please don’t tell Patrick Stewart, okay? Thanks.

"Jean-Luc Picard. You have lived a life devoid of grace, shallow and lacking in any compassion or loving kindness. For your sins, you are condemned to eternal and unfaltering damnation. Do you have any words to say in your defense?"

Picard stared downward through the tunnel of flame, molten rocks, and lava, then stared wide-eyed at his one-person judge, jury, and executioner.

He said the only thing he could say in response. "Mommy!"

There were three of them on the chain gang. Picard, who worked hard and tried to earn the respect of his tormenters. Bubby, who spent more energy trying to talk his way out of work than actually doing work. And Stymie, who basically wept and cursed throughout the twenty-seven hour work days.

The Supervisor watched, fascinated by his three new recruits.

"So, how are the new boys coming along, Stan?"

The Supervisor looked up, startled by the appearance of his peer and fellow tormentor, Maybelle. "I don’t know. It’s not like the old days, Belle. I mean, look at this guy."

"Starfleet?"

"Yeah. What’s up with him? Yesterday, after he’d moved that load of sulfur up the hill three times, running back down each time I knocked it over, and moving it back up again, I sent a little fireball his way. Did he scream? Panic? Curse the Almighty for abandoning him to hell? No. No, I tell you. He just toughened up, squared his shoulders, and went on with his work." Stan shook his head as Maybelle’s jaw dropped in disgust. "What the hell was that?"

"These borderline cases are all alike. Gimme the truly evil. Adolf Hitler. Genghis Khan. Regis Philbin. The truly evil! They know how to appreciate hell. But these guys…."

"I know. Sometimes, I wish they’d just reinvent purgatory so we don’t have to deal with the half-way cases."

"You are so right." Maybelle broke out a pack of Luckies and offered one to Stan. "Gotta light?" she joked.

"Jean-Luc Picard. It is come to our attention that you are not suited for the punishment that has been doled out to you. An eternity of hard labor and brimstone is not adequate to the sins you committed in your corporeal life. From this point on, you shall suffer a fate you truly deserve."

Picard woke from his nightmare, perspiration beading on his forehead. It had seemed so real. So terribly, terribly real. What had the voice meant? A fate he truly deserved? He shook his head hard, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was only a dream.

As he rolled over in his bed, he bumped into an inert lump in the bed next to him. The outline of a woman, naked and asleep, caught his attention.

A woman? He hadn’t remembered taking a woman home last night.

The woman rolled over and stretched lazily, revealing herself as none other than Lwaxana Troi. "Jean-Luc!" she cried. "Such naughty thoughts!"

Picard screamed.

As Stan and Maybelle watched Picard through the monitor, they began to laugh the insane laugh of the damned.

END