Well, I don't know who all was there at the CQSIII Auction last May, but I was sitting directly next to the woman who won the "Lost Scene" tape that Matthew Ferguson donated. One of the most exciting moments of the Con! (behind a certain surprise guest at Don's second set).

But I digress. I wrote these two scenes about three years ago -- first season. I posted them to the Section Two list and a website, then forgot about them. They are short, silly, and utterly unrealistic. I thought I'd post them here - as "The Lost Scenes That Matthew Must Have Forgotten In His Rush To Be Adored By Three Hundred And Sixty-Seven Hormone-Crazed Women (And Three Men)"

THE LAUNDRY LESSON

Michael: Place the materials in the cleansing device. Set the switch to an operational mode. Remain at close quarters until the mission is finished. Classify, fold, and redistribute. You'll have to be quick and acccurate- I need that tie tonight.

Nikita: But what if something ha-

Michael: Mistakes are not an option. Just do the job.

*****************************

(Briefing room, main characters except N around table)

Ops: It has come to my attention that certain abnormalities in appearance have been occurring in the Section. Michael, how exactly did you teach Nikita to do the laundry?

Michael: Standard procedure.

Ops: Did it ever occur to you that some people wear more than one color? There is such a thing as the fading of colors- it exists. It's an insidious force that trickles down to innocents wearing sky blue T-shirts, for example.

Walter, I hate to have to say this out loud, but someone has to. The global continent T-shirt has SHRUNK! You can't just go around wearing tight shirts like that. It is inappropriate. And Birkoff, Madeline has mentioned finding Oreo bits in her clothing- you simply must stop forgetting to take them out of your pockets. Michael, I'm sorry our tie was torn in the washer, but you can't just keep wearing it anyway. You can get another one! I'll find the money in the budget somehow- what is a rice bowl, anyway?

Lastly, there has been an incidence of rose-hued undergarments. I don't know if someone thought this was a joke, but I had better find a new pair in my room tomorrow, or else. Nikita's incompetence has allowed this chaos to take place. Michael, you find a solution.

Michael: What solution?

Ops: You grab Nikita and keep her away from the laundry room! She *lacks* laundering skills. If you fail to quarantine her, you have to wear the pink underwear.

THE DRIVING LESSON

Nikita: Take a left here?

Michael: Right.

N: A right?

M: No! Turn left *now*!

M clutches the passenger door with his white knuckles. N adjusts her sunglasses, and starts to wonder about their use since she's 500 ft underground.

M: Parallel park between those black cones over there.

N: Whatever.

M breathes deeply, and brings his hand to his chin, struggling to remain calm.

The black cone tumbles to the floor

N: Should I abort, Michael?

M: No, I'll call housekeeping to pick it up. Move on to the parking lot section.

As she knocks over the other cone and peels out towards the spaces. M stomps on the nonexistent brakes on his side of the car and wipes his sweaty hands on his black pants.

N: Which row should I park in?

She careens around the lot.

M: Anywhere! Row 8!

The car screeches to a halt. Michael reaches over and yanks the keys out of Nikita's hands.

M: I'm sorry, Nikita. It had to be done.

Send suggestions and comments to ranma.
OR
If you would like to send comments to Alyssandra, click HERE!