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 :::              The Spocky Horror Star Trek Show '94            :::
 000                              with...                         000
 :::                      Audience Participation                  :::
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	Originally by:	Tim Murphy sometime in 1988 (what was I on?)
	Revised by:	Tim Murphy 1993/1994        	    (Oh yeah.)
	Copyright 1993,1994  Tim Murphy               (Send more.)
        |
	|
	---> If you reproduce or redistribute this thing, please
	     keep my name on it, and don't change it.




		  Props:

                  Phaser set to kill
                  Dilithium crystals
                  Heavy Water
                  Toilet Paper (preferably 1st Season scripts)
                  Life-sized Wesley dummy
                  Carbonized bread
                  Antacid
                  Small nuclear flare
                  Borg Panties

                  General Info:

		  -Audience instructions are in square brackets.
              -Whenever Picard appears or is wishy-washy in some way
               the audience screams "F*ck the Prime Directive!" or
		   "At least Kirk had a pair!"
              -Whenever Tasha Yar slumps out of a seldomly
               opened storage compartment, yodel "Dead!"
              -Dr. Crusher may have her wig insulted or be
               referred to as "Captain's Meat!"
              -Whenever a Ferengi appears, offer to sell your
		   boy/girlfriend for 10 minutes in a holosuite with
		   an aroused tribble.


			  SYNDICATION/MY NEW FEATURE


                  ["Graphics!" until intro starts (Affirmative) ]

Picard's Lips: These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. It's--

           (The familiar ILM killer starfield suddenly flickers and
           blips out. All that's left is a black background with
           Picard's huge, dry lips speaking)
	   Goddamn Cray junk! Oops, er...

           Roddenberry was ill
           The day the ratings stood still,
           And His Series was summarliy canned. [Screw NBC!]
           And Bill Shatner was grim,
           In ads for margarine [Promise!]
           And Nimoy's albums were commercially panned. [You ARE Spock!]
           Along came "Genesis [Bellybuttons!] II",
           It too was given the screw [Hey Counselor Troi!]
           And poor old Gene no longer felt [Up his wife!] like a man.
           One night tripping on mace,
           He realized outer space [Sit on a studio exec's face!]
           Was the place all of his fortunes began... [Lucky shot!]
	   Doing this...

Chorus:  Syndication, [Dough, dough, dough!]
	   My new feature, [Bucks, bucks, bucks!]
         My wife Majel [Majel reconstructive surgery!]
	   Looks like the Creature.
         Androids thinking [And boinking! And dinking!]
 	   About life's meaning. [Fully functional!]
         A whole new series [Wimps wimps wimps!]
         With Commie  leanings.
         Oh Oh Oh Ohhhhh Uh Uh Ohh
         At the primetime, [How's it distributed?] syndicated,
         Picture Show.

Lips:    I knew Paramount Pictures
	   Sucked big, eggy mixtures [Klingon KY!]
	   When making up new TV shows; [Blow your nose!]
	   And I thought I would piss,
	   When I saw Marina Sirtis [When I saw Wil Wheaton's zits!]
	   In "The Wicked Woman" showing off what she's got. [Gimme some!]
	   Gene R. said big boobs [Class M!]
	   Would get his show on the [Fallopian!] tubes,
	   And nobody would look at the plot.
	   But when egos collide [bang heads together]
	   Bill Shatner's sure to get snide, [Tek what?]
	   And pay to have directors get shot. [He's dead, Jim!]
	   So anyway...

Chorus:  Syndication, [Clams, clams, clams!]
	   My new feature, [Moola, moola, moola!]
         My wife Majel [Majel trauma!]
	   Looks like The Creature.
         Androids thinking [And boffing! And binking!]
 	   About life's meaning. [I am not programmed to respond in that area!]
         A whole new series [Conference!]
         With Commie  leanings.
         Oh Oh Oh Ohhhhh Uh Uh Ohh
         At the primetime, [How's it distributed?] syndicated,
         Picture Show...

	   I gotta go uh uh ohhh [Hold it in!]
	   To the Primetime, Syndicated, [Spocky Horror!]
	   Picture Show...
	   Not HBO, [Home Bomb Office!]
	   Oh Oh Oh Ohhhhh Uh Uh Ohh
	   To the Primetime, Syndicated, [Spocky Horror!]
	   Picture Show,
	   Remote controhhl
	   [Girlfriend: Fuck this series! (while flipping off trekker)]
	   [Friends: Hey! Don't change the station!]
	   [Trekker: Gimme that goddamn remote NOW!]
	   Oh Oh Oh Ohhhhh Uh Uh Ohh
	   To the Primetime, Syndicated, [Spocky Horror!]
	   Picture Show...


           {Fade to commercial}

           {Fade up, the bridge, Wesley is surreptitiously undoing
            a yeoman's uniform with a new device concealed in his
            braces. Party streamers are everywhere, and everyone is
	      in formal dress.}

Troi:      Wasn't the Brobdingnagian spleen flensing ceremony beautiful?
           [Shrink that dress!]

Worf:      I was not amused when the Brobdingnagian ambassador used me
           to pick his teeth clean! [Spinehead!]

			      Pre-PEEPEE DEEDEE


	   [Wesley, what do you say when you want to be ignored?]

Weasley:   Hey Deedee. [What's a vagina?!]

Deedee:    Yes, Wesley?

Weasley:   I've got something to say. [What the HELL is a VAGINA?!]

Deedee:	   Uh huh...oh, by the way...

Deedee:    Oh Wes, [Kick the dummy] thank you [For your zit cream!]
           for letting me come with you. I plan to pursue my studies in alien
           foreplay rituals [Lick a Gorn!], and this ceremony was a great
           chance to get some hands-on experience. [Wash 'em off!]

           {She notices her uniform is sliding  off, sharply yanks it back up.
            Wes screams as 3 incisors rip out of his mouth}

Weasley:   Oh, Deedee. [Look, goddammit, WHAT THE FUCK IS A VAGINA?!]

Weasley:   [What do you say when you have to save the ship?"] No problem.


			          PEEPEE DEEDEE


Weasley:   Hey Deedee? [Is that a warp nacelle in your pocket or are you
            		just glad to see me?]

Deedee:    Yes Wes?

Weasley:   I've got something to prepubescently stammer.

Deedee:    >Burp<

Weasley:   I really love the [Be technical!] sinusoidal way... [What
           a poet!] your body parts move... [Do you like guys?] It
           makes me glad I'm not gay. I think. [Gutless writers!]

Deedee:	   Oh, Wes...

Weasley:   I wish puberty would come and change me. [Deedee!]
           I'd say "Son of a bitch!" not "Peepee!" [Deedee!]
           So please let me have just a looksee. [Deedee!]
           I've one thing to say and that's Peepee! Deedee! Let me see!

	     People tell me I'm smart but too geeky. [Deedee!]
           I've only seen naked girls 'cause I'm sneaky. [Deedee!]
           Oh please, won't you give me a peaky? [Deedee!]
           I've one thing to say and that's Peepee! Deedee! Let me see!
           [Ferengis douche with DDT!]

	     Here's a new form of life that I made.
           I played in the lab a tad; [With yourself!?]
           Wanna bet before long that it gets laid? [Sooner than you!]
           Oh, D-E-E-D-EE I need it bad! [Activate Holodeck program Bufu 1!]

Deedee:    Oh, your hormones are certainly a mess! [Oh Wes!]
           But no way I'm coming out of this dress. [Oh Wes!]
           You'll implode from this sex-u-al stress. [Oh Wes!]
           I've one thing to say and that's Wes, pest, get off me!
           [Mugatos like to fuck in trees!]
           Oh, Wes....

Weasley:   Oh, poop. [Sayyyy SHIT!]

Deedee:	   I'm mad...

Weasley:   Oh, gosh. [Sayyyy SHIT!]

Deedee:	   At you.

Weasley:   {sotto voce} I wish we'd screw...

Deedee & Weasley: {as Geordi screams in agony offstage} Hey! Look at
	          that alien brain shrew!

           {Further singing is cut off as Riker drop-kicks Weasley so
            the orders Picard has been screaming for the last 10 minutes
            can be heard}


	   [Would you fuck a 200 year old alien bartender?]

Narrator (Guinan): I would like, [A hat that's less stupid!]
	   	   ah, if I may, to take you on a strange
		   journey. [To a Klingon locker room?]

	   {She takes out her little black data pad, a Newton
	    Series 57. She starts blipping through her data
	    entries.}

	   It seemed a fairly ordinary stardate when Weasley Crusher
	   and his crewmate Deedee K'Ice, [Queen!] two young,
	   genetically perfect, socially at ease, unbiased, non-
	   racist, enlightened Federation kids laid [Can't be talking
	   about Weasley!] in a course and left Starbase Den-10 that
	   late November evening [It's always night in space,
	   shithead!] to visit a Dr. Montgomery Scott, ex-Starfleet
	   Engineering Eccentric and now friend to both of them.
	   [Is it true you blow Borgs for quatloos?]
	   It's true there were dark, pre-organic molecular clouds,
	   [Describe overtanned, fat Vulcans on swings!]
	   heavy, black, and pendulous, towards which the ship was
	   warping.
	   [Is it also true Picard is uncircumcised?]
	   It's true, also, that the spare warp core the ship was
   	   carrying was badly in need of some antimatter, but, uh,
	   Wesley being preoccupied by twelve gallons of testosterone
	   with nothing to do, well, he wasn't going to let a storm
	   that could possibly cause the ship to turn into a rapidly
	   expanding ball of superheated plasma spoil the rest of
	   the evening, was he? [It's always night in space, ropehead!]
	   ...On a night out...[You dumb asshole!] it was a night out
	   they were going to remember...[How long does Klingon sex
	   put you in Sickbay?] for a very long time.


Deedee:  That's the third Tholian starship that's passed us. [They must
	   have BIG sphincters!] They sure do take their lives in their
	   hands [Don't got 'em!] what with this subspace instability
	   and all.

Weasley: Yes, life's pretty cheap [And hot!] to that type.

         {Suddenly there is a large explosion, larger even than
	   Klingons produce after eating 7 cans of Maple style beans.
         Klaxons cut in, the bridge lights dim, and that cool power
	   loss sound effect can be heard.}

Picard:  Report, Mr. Laforge.

Laforge: Well sir, it seems somebody stuck a champagne cork in
	   [Beverly's asshole!] the warp core, and the resulting
	   pressure gradient in the interstitial frammazammatron
	   caused a warp nacelle event. And blew out our subspace
	   radio. [Did it cum?]

Riker:   Duh, what?

Laforge: We got a flat nacelle.

Picard:  Mister Data, [Ate-a Yar!] suggestions? [Use less wax on your head!]

Data:	   Captain, we have a spare warp core. Jettisoning the
	   old one [Like Riker's babes!] and installing the
	   spare should reinflate the nacelle. The subspace
	   radio damage will require additional repairs.

	   [How well does your head resemble the end of a sperm?]
Picard:  Very well. Ensign Crusher, you coordinated the spare
	   warp core transfer from Starbase Den-10. What is its
	   status?

Weasley:   Uh oh.

	   [What does your girlfriend say when you want sex?]
Worf:	   Uh oh, what?

	   [What do you say when your other inflatable doll leaks?]
Weasley:   I think the spare's flat too. Gosh darn it, I knew I
	   should have gotten that spare warp core fixed!

Picard:	   Lieutenant Worf, take Mister Crusher's spine and-

Weasley:   WAIT! Didn't we pass some old space station a few parsecs
	   back? Maybe thay have a subspace radio we could use.

	   {There is suddenly a flash of lightning on the main view
	    screen, and eerily silhouetted is a huge, ancient, spooky
	    starbase.}

Geordi:    Commander, I'm reading [No you're not! You're blind!] very
           high power levels from that thing.

Troi:      [Who stinks in bed?] Commander, I sense multiple [Orgasms!]
           presences inside the station.

Riker:     So now what do we do?

Data:      Repairs cannot be effected with our resources alone.

Picard:    Very well then. Ensign Crusher [MOMMY!], put us next to
           the station, then report to the [Bed!] transporter room with
           yeoman Deedee. Yeoman Deedee's singing stinks, and your
	     hormones have rendered you an idiot, so you both go.

			OVER AT THE FRANKEINSTEIN PLACE

Deedee:  In this dustcloud darkness,
	   Stuck going at sublight, [Geordi's sex life!]
	   It'll take all night, to move that far.
	   I'll be boozing at Ten Forward's bar.

Deedee & Weasley: At sublight... [Ignite nuclear flare, throw at guy
		  who's been farting the last 10 minutes]

Chorus:  Going to the FrankEinstein place.

Deedee & Weasley: At sublight...

Chorus:  Barely even warping space.

Deedee & Weasley: At sublight, sublight, this will take up all the rest
	            of my life.

Traveller: I can travel anywhere, and it's much faster than beaming.
	     Warp drives are a joke, I give them all a good reaming.
	     I'm so damn fast. I'm so damn fast...

Deedee & Weasley: At sublight... [Ignite nuclear flare, throw at guy
		      who's been chewing his ice]

Chorus:    Going to the FrankEinstein place.

Deedee & Weasley: At sublight...

Chorus:   Barely even warping space. At sublight, sublight...

Deedee & Weasley: ...this will take up all the rest of my life.

	   {Cut to airlock of alien starbase, Wes and Deedee finish
            beaming over. In front of them is a gigantic oaken door,
            and on it a huge knocker. Wes begins frantically banging it
            since the airlock is broken and they're asphyxiating}

Traveller:  [Make hell a two syllable word!] Hello.

Weasley:    Hi! My name is Wesley Crusher [Diaper-boy!], and this is
            a sexist bimbo, Yeoman Deedee [Don't touch!]. I
            wonder if you could help us. You see, our starship broke
            down a few parsecs up the galactic lane...do you have a
            subspace radio we might use?

Traveller:  You're suffocating. [Let 'em!]

Deedee:     {croaking} Yes--there's no air. [It's all in Troi's head!]

Weasley:    Hhhhhhhhhhh....

            [Should aliens have sex internally?]
Traveller:  Yes...I think you'd better both come inside.

            {They go inside. The place looks like what would happen if
             Hieronymous Bosch dropped acid and had en epileptic
             seizure at the Holodeck controls}

Deedee:     I think I liked it better when you were trying to get under
            my uniform on the bridge. [So did Wes!] What kind of a
	    space station is this?

Weasley:    Oh, it's probably some kind of alien biolab used for live
	    vivisections. [So that's your excuse!]

Traveller:  [Which way does your forehead point?] This way.

Deedee:	    {Looks around, sees all kinds of shiny medlab equipment
	     and inflatable balloons} Are you having a vivisection?
	    {Weasley pokes her in the ribs}

Traveller:  You've beamed over on a very special night. [THERE'S NO
	    NIGHT IN--oh, never mind!] It's one of the Master's affairs.
	    [It's Riker six, Master five, but Master SHOOTS! He SCORES!]

		                A TIME WARP

	    [How big is William Shatner's ego?] It's astounding;
            Plots are fleeting;
            Reruns, take their toll.
            But watch the viewscreen...

Greena:     {Luscious Orion slave babe} Not for very much longer.

Traveller:  I've got the [Andorean clap!] remote control.
            IT'S A RIP-OFF! USING A TIIIIME WAAAAARP!
            Wrecking, those moments when...
            An episode worked well...

Traveller &
Greena:     Then it went straight to helllll....

Uranians:   DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!

Guinan:     Just slingshot to the left...

All:        And Warp eight to the rii ii iii ii ii iight!

Guinan:     Your head will be cleft, [Klingon sex!]

All:        Unless you hang on tiiiii iii iight!
            But it's the vectored thruuu uh uh uuust
            That warps you to the Plei ay ay ay stocene!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!

Greena:     I'm so slinky, what I do is so kinky
	    You can't stand it, no, not at all.
	    I'll give you such an erection, and a mutant infection.
	    My sex life, is a ball!

Traveller:  With one little switch flip

Greena:     You could blow up a starship [Good lungs!]

Traveller:  And give the Romulans a good laugh.

Magenta:    With the wrong combination

Traveller:  You'll destroy gravitation!

Uranians:   DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!

Coulombia:  Well I was in a Jeffries Tube just havin' a think,
	    When all the warning lights just started to blink.
	    It freaked me out, that all this could arise
	    Just from pushing some red buttons that had caught my eyes.
	    I smelled some smoke, and I felt a change
	    'Cuz my lower torso jammed the antimatter exchange.

Uranians:   DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!

Guinan:     Just slingshot to the left...

All:        And Warp eight to the rii ii iii ii ii iight!

Guinan:     Your head will be cleft, [Klingon sex!]

All:        Unless you hang on tiiiii iii iight!
            But it's the vectored thruuu uh uh uuust
            That warps you to the Plei ay ay ay stocene!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!
            DON'T USE A TIME-WARP AGAAIIIINNN!

Deedee:     Wes, say something! [Goo goo!]

Weasley:    Uh, two to beam aboard. [I can beam a board all by myself!]

	    {Banging his comm badge has no effect except to make his chest
	     swell a little, which does help him look more manly}

Deedee:	    I think we'd better beam out of here.

Weasley:    Oh for heck's sake, get a grip on yourself. ['Cuz you won't!]

            {Cut to wrought iron turbolift, we see a foot clad in those
             funky jet boots from Star Trek V stomping in time with the
	     heavy, heavy beat}

Deedee:     Look, if you get us out of here, I'll let you run your
            hands through my [Calc homework!] underwear drawer.

Wes:        I'm here-there's nothing to [Turn you on!] worry about.

	    {Music H-bomb goes off}

	    {Turbolift stops at the main hall level where Weasley and
	     Deedee are.The wrought iron doors whoosh open improbably.
	     Out minces a Tellarite wearing black leather jet boots
	     and a red & black satin teddy. It's an image that wouldn't
	     turn on a myopic gorilla.}

				SWEET TELLARITE

Frank:	     How do you do, I...
             See you've met my...
             Quirky alien.
             He's just a little bent, [To the left!]
             Because, when you were sent, he
             Thought you'd both be pungent. [Just Weasley's shorts!]

	     Don't get grossed out by the way that I smell!
             Given time I'm sure you all will recover.
             I'm not much like a man by the light of day, [Neither's Wes!]
             At night my BO makes me quick to discover!

	     I'M JUST A SICK TELL-UH-RITE,

Uranians:    Sick Tell-uh-rite...oooooo

Frank:       FROM INTERSECTIONAL, TRANS-URANIAHHHH, HAH HAH!

	     Let me show you my place,
             {To Wesley} Maybe grow you a face,
             You both look like you're [Expendable!] evolved from apes.
             Or if you want something visual
             That's really abysmal,
             We could go take in the "Questor Tapes."

Weasley:     I'm glad you hated that show,
             Could we use your subspace radio?
             My biological clock's in a bit of a hurry.

	     [What do you get when you see Weasley naked?]
Deedee:	     No rush.

Weasley:     We'll just report on our trip,
             And beam back to the ship.
             This pain in my crotch makes me worry.

Frank:       So your nacelle's got a flat, well, how 'bout that?
             Well, fleshbags, don't you panic.
             He'll rebuild your ship, for some scotch and a tip
             I'll get you a Highlandic Mechanic! [My poor, wee bairns!]

	     I'M JUST A SICK TELL


	     -UH-RITE,
             [Boom chika boom chika boom!]

Uranians:    Sick Tell-uh-rite...oooooo

Frank:       FROM INTERSECTIONAL, TRANS-URANIAHHHH, HAH HAH!

             Why don't you stay at our base,

Traveller:   Base!

Frank:       We have plenty of space, [Sucky pun!]

Coulombia:   Space!

Frank:       I could show you my plot-rehash obsession. [Naked Now!]
             I've been remaking a man
             With diddly ears and green tan,
             And he's good at leaving neck... impressions.

	     I'M JUST A SICK TELL-UH-RITE, [We know already.]
             FROM INTERSECTIONAL, TRANS-URANIAHHHH, HAH HAH!

             So--beam up to my john [No toilets on the bridge!]
             When's the last time you've gone?
             I see you shiver with... [WIPE IT!] constipation.
             BUT MAYBE YOUR PAIN...
             Is caused by too much brain.
             So I'll use my paws,
             And take out... some!

	     {Coulombia and Traveller start disintegrating Weasley's
	      and Deedee's uniforms.}

Deedee:	     Hey! WEASLEY!

Weasley:     Be quiet, Deedee. We'll play along [You wish!] for now,
	     and later when they're not looking I'll run away.

	     {Traveller gets carried away and accidentally
   	      disintegrates several millimeters of Weasley's
              reproductive assembly.}

Coulombia:   Slowly, slowly! He doesn't have much to spare.

Weasley:     Hello. We mean you no harm. This is my crewmate Deedee.
	     [Hey Weas, spell IC!] I see...

Traveller:   You're very lucky to be invited up to FrankEinstein's
	     toilette. [Ooh, French!] Some beings would give their
	     nitrogenous wastes for the privilege. [Or fuck a Horta!]

Weasley:     Beings like you, maybe. {Suspiciously eyes Coulombia.}

Coulombia:   Ha! I've used it.

	     {Traveller punches in a Romulan ale on a dusty replicator.
	      He grabs the bottle as it materializes, takes a good
	      chug, and drops it when he realizes he replicated a
	      urine sample instead.}

Traveller:   Come along, the Master doesn't like to be kept shedding.

	     {They all shuffle into the wrought iron turbolift,
	      which takes off at Mach 3.}

	     {Tho doors open on a really BIG bathroom, with lots of
	      non-bathroom things, like a tachyon reactor and a
	      stainless steel sickbay table, marble stairs and aliens
	      from 30 or 40 different worlds, who all have 2 arms, 2
	      legs, 2 eyes, etc. etc. Ok, it's a lab. In a bathroom.}

Weasley:     Ensign Crusher. And this is my wet dream, Yeoman Deedee.

Frank:       [Say something in Klingon!] Qapla'...

Weasley:     What?

Frank:	     Qapla bad disintegrator burns you have there...But here,
	     put these on. {He hands them some vintage animated force
	     field belts. Deedee looks fetching outlined in yellow.}
	     It's not often we receive the Federation here, let alone
	     offer them...carbohydrates! {He yanks a twinkie out of a
	     replicator carried around on a silver tray by a Gorn in
	     tuxedo and jams it into Weasley's mouth.}

Weasley:     Carbohydrates?! All we asked was to use your subspace
	     radio, goshdarnit, a reasonable request which you've
	     chosen to ignore!

Deedee:	     Wes, don't be so scrotal.

Weasley:     What's a scrotal? [Same idea as a vagina!]

Frank:	     Do you have any phaser burns Weasley?

Weasley:     Certainly not. My mom doesn't have good aim.

Traveller:   Everything is in readiness, Master. We merely await your...
	     grunt.

Frank:	     Tonight, my non-Euclidian amphibians, [Weasley's last three
	     dates!] you are about to witness a quantum leap [Ziggy!] in
	     bio-libidinal research...and those body lice are mine!
	     {Snatches them back from some grubby Jawa-like thing near
	     his knee} It was strange the way it happened...suddenly
	     you discover Nair...what a fool! My curling iron's been there
	     all along...

	     {Everyone looks at each other, shrugs.}

Traveller:   Forget it, he's on a roll.

Frank:	     And that's how I discovered the secret, that elusive
	     deoderant, [Who's your favorite Star Trek character?]
	     that SPARK that is the breath of life!
	     [Do you know that Shatner wears a girdle?]
	     Yes, I have that knowledge...[Do you know his secret?]
	     I know his secret... It's on...[His shelf?] HIS SHELF!
	     You are fortunate for tonight is the night that my
	     skinny creature is destined to be BORN!

	     {Greena, Coulombia and Traveller frantically start
	      banging buttons on different control panels scattered
	      around the room.}

Frank:	     Throw open the switches on the gam-plastic iota blaster
	     and step the core memory THREE MORE KILOQUADS!

	     {In a pastel transporter chamber something begins to
	      form in a burst of color right out of "Yellow
	      Submarine." It's wearing a spiked dog collar and
	      a gold g-string.}

Frank:	     OH! SPOCKY!

			 I NEED SOME NOOKIE PLEASE


Spocky:	     I need some nookie, please or I am going to be dead.
	     It's been seven years and my glands are pulsing with dread!
	     Oh, woe is me, I need sex or I'm history.
	     And, can't you see,
	     That I'm at the start of a pretty big pon-farr!

	     It's highly ironic that a guy with my logical mind

All:	     It ain't no lie!

Spocky:      Can get so horny that I'd sleep with a handy canine.

All:	     Get laid or die!

Spocky:      My... sperm count is high, give me some or I might just cry.
	     It... makes me sigh,
	     That I'm at the start of a pretty big pon-farr!

All:	     Sha la la la it ain't no lie!

Spocky:	     Oh ho no no.

All:	     Sha la la la get laid or die!

Spocky:	     Oh ho no no.

All:	     Sha la la la it ain't no lie!

Spocky:	     Oh ho no no.
	     I need some nookie please or I am going to be dead.

All:	     Get laid or die!

Spocky:	     Oh ho no no...

Frank:       Well, really.

Spocky:	     It's been seven years and my glands are pulsing with dread!

All:	     It ain't no lie!

Spocky:      Oh no no no.

Frank:	     Well really. That's no way to behave on your first
	     materialization. {Tosses him into a brig cell and
	     activates the forcefield.}

Spocky:	     Fascinating.

Frank:	     But since you're such a pointy beauty, [What do you say
	     to Weasley after sex?] I am prepared to forgive you.

Traveller:   He's a credit to your perversity, Master.

Greena:	     A triumph of big technical terms that don't mean
	     anything.

Coulombia:   He's OK.

Frank:	     OK? {HE pulls out a disruptor and blows a perfect hole
	     through her midsection.} O K ?! {He pulls a big switch
	     sticking out of the wall and beams her underwear 3 inches
	     to the left.} [What do Weasley's ex-girlfriends say?]
	     I think we can do better than that. Weasley, Deedee, what
	     do you think of him?

Deedee:	     Well, I don't like a man with too many green corpuscles.

Frank:	     I didn't make him...FOR YOU! He carries the Image of Surak
	     seal of approval.

		         I CAN MAKE YOU A VULCAN (part 1)

Frank:	     A halfling, with a 210 IQ,
	     Will still tear up the place
	     When he needs to screw.

	     And soon in a chair with a determined stare,
	     He sweats from his talking as he tells us of Hawking
	     As if we could know what he means.
	     And with a sliderule and a little comp-screen
	     He'll think of things keen.
	     He'll be a bright guy...Oh honey...

All:	     But not the right guy...

Frank:	     He'll prove Fermat's last theorem
	     With geome-try,
	     Try to trisect an angle and calculate pi.
	     Such a brainpan if he only knew of my plan.
	     In just seven days...

Frank &
Uranians:    I can make you a Vuh uh uh uhl cannn.

Frank:	     He'll do neck gropes, and mind-melds,
	     Wipe your brain, if you're a jerk.
	     The terms he uses I just can't understand,
	     But in just seven days, oh baby...
	     I can make you a Vuh uh uh uhl can.

  	     {FrankEinstein is cut off as warning klaxons go
	      off and red lights start flashing over a door
	      covered in frost. The word "Akira" has been
	      scribbled over and "Worfie" penciled in. 2 seconds
	      later an ice-covered Klingon on a Harley ElectraWarp
              blasts through the door.}

Coulombia:   Worfie!

Worfie:	     What ever happened to the holodeck?
	     We'd run down creatures there and snap their necks!
 	     It don't seem the same since thinking first
	     And killing later, no, that sucks the worst.
	     I used to gut my rivals with a chick who'd go
	     Pull out their lungs and wrap them in a bow;
	     And finger paint when all the red stuff flowed.
	     And squeeze their necks until their eyeballs burst.

	     Hot patootie, jIparHa' nol, I really like to kill 'em all!
	     Hot patootie, jIparHa' nol, I really like to kill 'em all!
	     Hot patootie, jIparHa' nol, I really like to kill 'em all!

	     {Worfie whips out an electronic sax and starts wailing}

	     My head used to swim from all the beings I scragged
	     My hands kind of fumbled with their black body bags.
	     I'd lean over their crushed heads as they started to gag
	     That they were really very sorry to have cut in line.
	     I'd get back in front, and brush off my clothes,
	     Really hoping somebody would insult my nose.
	     With your hands around their neck you'd make 'em eat their toes
	     It felt pretty good. WOO You had a good time.

	     Hot patootie, jIparHa' nol, I really like to kill 'em all!
	     Hot patootie, jIparHa' nol, I really like to kill 'em all!
	     Hot patootie, jIparHa' nol, I really like to kill 'em all!

	     {FrankEinstein attacks Worfie with a laser drill. He sets
	      the drilling depth to "Other Side of the Planet."}

Frank:	     One from the cryo-vaults.

Spocky:	     Fascinating.

Frank:       {Coulombia is bumming.} Oh baby, don't be upset...
	     It was a gratuitous killing...he had a certain
	     psychopathic charm, but no relentless sex drive.
	     {Spocky makes the Vulcan hand thing.} OH!

	                I CAN MAKE YOU A VULCAN (part 2)

Frank:	     But a dendrite and an axon,
	     Some seratonin and a neuron,
	     Makes me, ooooh, shake.
	     Makes me want to find prime numbers by ha-ha-hand...
	     In just seven days...

Frank &
Uranians:    I can make you a Vuh uh uh uhl cannn.

Frank:	     I don't want no discussion, just real Vulcan suction!

	     In just seven days, I can make you a Vuh uh uh uhl cannn.
	     Grok it if you can,
	     In just seven days, I can make you a Vuh uh uh uhl cannn.

	     {Music trails off into Vulcan Wedding Trudge.}

Guinan:	     There are those that say that life is an illusion, that
   	     reality is a figment of Q's imagination. If this is so,
	     then we're all in deep shit...however, the sudden
	     departure of FrankEinstein and his creature into the
	     seclusion of his holosuite has given Weasley and
	     Deedee a chance to pick the fur out of their teeth...

	     {Deedee and Weasley are shown to their rooms by Traveller
	      and Greena.}


	     {Deedee is in her room, snoring loudly. There is a beep
	      from the door.} [Start chanting "Absolute zero."]

Deedee:	     ZZZZzzzzzzzzz...uh? Whuzzat? Who's there?

Frank (Weas): It's only me, Deedee.

Deedee:      What the hell did you wake me up for, you little twerp?

	     {Frank enters the room. Oddly enough, he can see his
	      breath.}

Frank (Weas): Everything's going to be all right, Deedee.

Deedee:	     You little geek, take off [My clothes!] before I rip
	     you another Jeffries' Tube! {Frank does something that is
 	     a major cause of mammalian smugness.}
	     AAAAAHHH! YOU LITTLE PERVERT!
	     [Dammit Jim, I'm a pervert not a doctor!]

	     {Deedee grabs Frank's head from her nether region and makes
	      him do a Linda Blair. Her followup is a move that causes
	      even Klingons, who even THINK about it, to grab their
	      crotches and sink moaning to the floor.}

Frank (Weas): EeeeeeeeeeeaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh..... I don't think
              I find this quite pleasurable. Oooooooooo. {He drags
	      himself out of the room.}

Deedee:	     And if you tell anyone I wear Star Wars underwear, YOU ARE
	     DEAD!!!!!!!

	     {Meanwhile, Traveller and Greena are watching all this
	      on their Tantalus scope. They look pretty turned on,
	      Traveller's forehead is throbbing. Just for kicks, he
	      grabs a copy of "Dr. Ruth's 101 Ways to Get In Touch
	      With Your Feelings" and throws it at Spocky. He raises
	      an eyebrow and takes off down the turbolift shaft.}

	     {Weasley is in his room, clutching a teddy tribble and
	      sucking his thumb. He's wearing those pajamas with
	      the attached feet. There is a beep from the door.}

Frank (Dee): Oh Weasley, I've been all wrong about you. And truthfully,
	     pectoral muscles are such a turn-off!

	     [What do you say when a Romulan farts in your airlock?]
Weasley:     Huh? Well gee, that's neato! Oh boy! Oh, golly, so THAT's
	     what that word means! OH...AAAAAHHH! YOU!!!

Frank:	     I'm afraid so, Weasley, but isn't it nice?

Weasley:     Hmmm. {He shrugs.} This is the closest I'm gonna get, SO
	     C'MERE, YOU! GRRRRRRRRRAAAARRRRRRR!!!!

	     {Frank's screams are cut off by urgent beeping from the
	      viewscreen. He staggers out of bed, leaving Weasley
	      with a mouthful of pelt.}

Traveller:   Master, Spocky has broken his containment field and
	     is loose somewhere on the station. Greena has just
	     released the glommers...

Frank:	     ...help me, Spocky...

	     {Cut to Deedee stomping around the lab, breaking big things
	      into small things with pieces of what used to be other big
	      things. She is peeved.}

Deedee:      Ooh, Weasley, Weasley you dork! [What do you say to your friend
	     when she sets you up on a blind date with Weasley?] How could
	     you have done this to me?!
	     If only you didn't have glands!
	     If only you didn't read Galactic Geographic in the bathroom!
	     If only I had you neutered on shoreleave!

	     {She catches him and Frank on yet another conveniently placed
	      viewscreen.}

	     I knew it all along.

	     {Spocky pops up, emitting low moans. Lots of what used to be
	      big things have fallen on him. He's spastically clutching
	      the book Taveller threw at him.}

Deedee:	     [What does Marina Sirtis say at conventions?] Not another naked
	     guy! Go away.

Guinan:	     Emotion, agitation, or intense feminist angst...a powerful and
	     irrational master...and from what Greena and Coulombia viddied
	     on their conveniently placed viewscreen there seemed little doubt
	     that Deedee was indeed its love monkey...


		         DON'T TOUCH-A TOUCH-A TOUCH-A TOUCH ME


Deedee:	     There's a guy I'd like done in, he's such a pin-
	     Head, he's really got me pissed before...

Coulombia:   You mean she's...

Greena:	     Uh huh, and it's spring-loaded.

Deedee:	     [Hey Bill, what troubled you as a kid?] I knew constant bed wetting
	     As an adult should cause some fretting.
	     But Wesley doesn't know when he's gonna go,
	     I've mopped it up, but now no more!

Greena and Coulombia: MORE! MORE! MORE!

Deedee:	     I've given StarFleet no resistance,
	     To assignments with miscreants;
	     If these guys don't back off,
	     I'll fill their shorts with heavy-g ants!!

	     {Spocky drags himself out of the rubble and tries to mindmeld
	      with Deedee. He displays remarkable facial control as Deedee
	      rams his own hand fully into his left nostril.}

Deedee:	     Don't touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me!
	     You guys are so duh-ur-ur-ty!
	     [What do Klingons do with cute puppies?]
	     Kill'em, drill'em, sawmill 'em!
	     And feed 'em, dynamite.

	     And your damn pon-farr, you're so bi-po-lar.
	     You get revved up and boink like hounds!

Greena and Coulombia: [Bev!] Hounds, [Bev!] hounds, [Bev!] hounds.

Deedee:	     And that's [How much sex appeal does Riker have?] just one iota
	     Of a guy's slob quota,
	     You need broken hands  and I need L-Dopa...

Coulombia:   Don't touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me!
Greena:	     You guys are so duh-ur-ur-ty!
Coulombia:   Kill'em, drill'em, sawmill 'em!
Greena:	     And feed 'em, dynamite.

Deedee:	     Don't touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me!
	     You guys are so duh-ur-ur-ty!
	     Kill'em, drill'em, sawmill 'em!
	     And feed 'em, dynamite.

Spocky:	     And feed 'em, trinitrotoluene--{a fist extends from a dimen-
	     sional rift and whacks him on the head.}--dynamite.

Weasley:     Creature of the night--{Tim Curry materializes, whacks him on
	     the head with a coal shovel, and dematerializes.}--And feed
	     'em, dynamite.

Frank:	     And feed 'em, dynamite.

Greena:	     And feed 'em, dynamite.

Traveller:   And feed 'em, dynamite.

Coulombia:   And feed 'em, dynamite.

Spocky:	     And feed 'em, dynamite.

Deedee:	     And feed 'em, DYNAMITE.

	     {Scene change--Traveller is ululating as FrankEinstein
	      repeatedly sticks a Klingon Agonizer on his tongue.}

Traveller:   AAAAAIIIIEEEEE! [Say a word Klingons don't know!]
	     MEEEEERRRRCCCCCYYYYY!!!!!!!! {FrankEinstein pulls out 2
	     more Agonizers and shoves them in Traveller's ears.}

Frank:	     How did it happen? I understood you were to be watching...

Traveller:   I only beamed away for a centi-minute...master.

Frank:	     Well, see if you can find him with a sensor sweep.

	     {Brad bumps into some old transporter equipment in a
	      corner of the lab. Status lighs wink from red to yellow
	      happy faces, and as the crappy transporter sound effect
	      from the first movie swells a strangely familiar bloated
	      figure takes shape on a remote pad...}

Traveller:   Master, master...we have a relic...umm, visitor.

Brad:	     Hey, Scotty! [Beam me up, this episode sucks!] Dr. Montgomery
	     Scott.

Traveller:   You know this actor...this engineer?

Weasley:     Why yes. He happens to be an old...he happens to be old.

Frank:	     I see. So this wasn't a chance docking. You came here with a
	     subplot.

Weasley:     I told you, our warp core is damaged. I was telling the truth.
	     I get zits when I lie. [Then don't lie so much!]

Frank:	     I know what you told me...but this Dr. Montgomery Scott, his
	     name is on the power supply for my vibrator.

Weasley:     He taught para-spatial thingie integration at Den-10's nursery
	     school!

Frank:	     And now he works for your Federation, doesn't he, Wesley?!
	     He's attached to the Division of Investigation of what you
	     call cameo appearances! Isn't that affirmative, Wesley?!!

Weasley:     Leave me alone, you big poopie! {His lower lip quivers, you
	     can see he's going to cry.}

Traveller:   The intruder is completely materialized, master.

Frank:	     He'll probably be... [What does Scotty call sex?] entering the
 	     Engine Room. Shall we enquire of him in person?

Weasley:     [What do sentient cheese graters do to chief engineers?]
	     Great Scotty!

	     [Say something with a crappy accent!]
Dr. Scotty:  FrankEinstein, ah dinna ken wha' yher doon'...

Weasley:     Doctor Scotty!

Dr. Scotty:  Wha' th' hell are yoo on aboot, laddie?

Frank:	     Don't play games, Dr. Scotty. You ken, err, know perfectly well
	     what Wesley Crusher is doon'--grr--doing here. It was part of your
	     subplot, was it not? That he and his space iceberg should get
	     into gadget trouble and set up a cameo for you? Well,
	     unfortunately for you, all your walk-ons are about to be
	     cancelled. You must be adaptable, Dr. Scotty; I know Wesley is
	     when his glands work. {FrankEinstein shudders.}

Dr. Scotty:  Ah tell yoo, man, yon Wesley's presence is noo doon' a' mine!
	     Ah'm lookin' fer ma' wee Worrrfie!

Wesley:	     Worfie!? I've smelled him!

Frank:	     Worfie? What do you know of Worfie, Dr. Scotty?

Dr. Scotty:  Ah knoo a grrrrreat deal aboot a rrrrright many thaengs. Like
	     hae many amps yher vibrrrrrator uses, laddie, err, thingie.
	     And Worrrrfie is ma' nephew, boot dinna yoo ask how.

	     {Frank farts, gastrically caught off guard.}

Wesley:	     Dr. Scotty!

Deedee:	     Ah!

Dr. Scotty:  Deedee, lass!

Deedee:	     Dr. Scotty!

Wesley:	     Deedee!

Deedee:	     Piss off, furmuncher.

Frank:	     Spocky!

Wesley:	     Dr. Scotty!

Deedee:	     Ah!

Dr. Scotty:  Deedee, lass!

Deedee:	     Dr. Scotty!

Wesley:	     Deedee!

Deedee:	     Don't talk to me, monkeyboy.

Frank:	     Spocky!

Wesley:	     Dr. Scotty!

Deedee:	     Ah!

Dr. Scotty:  Deedee, lass!

Deedee:	     Dr. Scotty!

Wesley:	     Deedee!

Deedee:	     I'm not listening, tribblestuffer.

Frank:	     Spocky!

Frank:	     {To Spocky.} Listen...I made you...and I can give you regular
	     ears just as easily...

Greena:	     {Electronic intercom chirp.} Master, dinner is synthesized.

Frank:	     Excellent. Under the circumstances, dress uniform is optional.

Guinan:	     Large quantities of alcohol have always played a vital role in
	     Life's rituals. However, all there is now is synthale, which
	     wouldn't get an anorexic nanite buzzed. And then there's
	     the stuff at this meal. However informal it might appear, you
	     can be sure there was to be plenty, bon Worfie.

	     {Dinner is served. The food replicator at the end of the
	      table spits out plate after steaming plate. All the plates
	      have exactly the same kinds of flourescently colored cubes.

	     [What?! Meat Worf AGAIN?!]

	     {Dr. Scotty grabs a glass of something that looks alcoholic
              and tilts it back. It all dribbles through little holes in
              the glass and down his front.}

	     [That computer! What a practical joker!]

Frank:	     A toast...to absent alcohol...

All:	     To absent alcohol...

Frank:	     And Spocky. {Pulls a Vulcan lyre from under the table, strums
	     a few chords.}

	     Happy birthday to you...
	     Happy birthday to you...
	     Happy birthday pointy Spocky... {Knocks it off, tosses lyre.}

	     Shall we?

Dr. Scotty:  Look man, Ah'm haere tae jabber aboot Worfie.

Coulombia:   {Begins getting greener than Greena.} Worfie?

Frank:	     Another cube anyone? It's Worf it...

	     {Everyone looks down at their plates. All the cubes have
	      little bony ridges on the front and little ponytails on the
	      back.}

Coulombia:   Excuse me. {Runs screaming for a toilet, but since the
	     station was built from stolen Enterprise blueprints, there
	     aren't any. She invents one next to a pile of previously
	     shiny equipment.}

Dr. Scotty:  Ah knaw he were a roonin'  wi' blackguards, boot th' lot a'
	     yoo are worrrse then ah kenned... perrrrverse aliens!

Spocky:	     [Describe Romulan lingerie!] Fascinating.

Weasley:     Doctor Scotty!

Frank:	     Go on, Dr. Scotty. Or should I say, Doctor MACScotty!
	     [Everybody stand up and blow a skirl on the bagpipes.]

Weasley:     What are you imp..imp..what do you mean?

Dr. Scotty:  It be all rrrrright, lad!

Weasley:     Doctor Scotty!

Dr. Scotty:  Wood ye shoot yer festerrrrrin gob, ye stoopid idjit?


			      WORFIE'S DWARFIE


	     From the day he tore out [Not the in but the out...]
	     He was psycho. [With a capital "Norman!"]
	     He was the axe [Not the handle but the blade...]
	     In his mother's head. [Not the kidneys but the head.]
   	     She sutured her veins [Not the aorta but the veins...]

Guinan:	     [Stop being so fucking helpful!] and he still defiled
	     puppies' remains.

Scotty:	     He joined Starfleet the day she blew up.
	     [Computer, HIT IT!]
	     From the stardate she was toast [Bagh sIbaQ bagh!]
	     All he felt like [The Dr. Scott Scotch!]
	     Was maiming coast to coast. [Bagh sIbaQ bagh!]
	     And a shuttlecraft, [eu Iy Iy eu!]
	     Snorting ground ghu...

Guinan:      [How did Gene get NBC to listen?] He was a real big,
	     tough, smelly dude.

Dr. Scotty:  Taking everyone for a drag...

All: 	     When Worfie said he punched out his Dwarfie
	     You saw his snarly grin and knew he did.[smack smack]
	     But when he pushed in your nose with one of his toes...

Frank:	     What a nut...

Deedee:      Kick your butt...

Dr. Scotty:  Aye, he did.

Coulombia:   Everybody ran from him,
	     I got fed through a fan by him.
	     I said "HEY! This hurts like HELL!
	     Don't throw my grandma down that well!"
	     These nice men will walk you back to your cell!

Dr. Scotty:  But even he was drawn [And quartered.]
	     Into something, [A BIG something. Looks like a Klingon.]
	     Making him warn [No, it's DORN!]
	     Me on this MessagePad...

All: 	     What's it display? What's it display?

Worfie's voice: I've got a big head,
	     Move your ass, or they'll MAKE MY BED!
	     They must not carry out their hygiene deeds!

All: 	     When Worfie said he punched out his Dwarfie
	     You saw his snarly grin and knew he did.[smack smack]
	     But when he pushed in your nose with one of his toes...

Frank:	     What a nut...

Deedee:      Kick your butt...

Dr. Scotty:  Aye, he did.

	     {FrankEinstein melodramatically opens an accesss panel marked
	      "Raw Materials" on the replicator. It's pretty obvious Worfie
	      was tonight's entree, and has problems you can really sink
	      your teeth into. Everybody screams, howls, beeps, etc. Spocky
	      leaps behind Deedee and worriedly trys to finger her neck.}

Frank:	     Spocky! How could you? {He pulls on one of those Klingon
	     gauntlets and lets Deedee have one across the chops. General
	     Mayhem and Major Havoc ensue until Traveller accelerates
	     everyone into a wall...}

Traveller:   SHUT UUUUUUUUUP!! You're making my CD skip.


				 BEAM UP


Frank:	     I'll hail you once; I won't hail you twice,
             You better beam up, Deedee K'Ice!
	     Your plomeek soup don't taste so nice,
	     You better beam up, Deedee K'Ice!

	     I don't know what you've got, that makes Spocky hot
	     You're as titillating as a defibrillating,
	     Froze up like an ice planet thing!
	     How are you able to still make men go "Schwinnnnng!?"

	     Do you reach? Want my lice?
	     You better beam up, Deedee K'Ice.
	     At least this diffuser will refuse ya!

Deedee:      {mumbling} My gongue! I ghan't boove my gongue!

Dr. Scotty:  Ma scotch! Ma god, I canna drrrink ma scotch!

Weasley:     Hmmm...it's like our tarsal electron shells were intermingled
             with the deck's....OWWW! {He blops over as Traveller, who has
	     been frantically trying to look up the words Weasley's been
	     using, gives up and clocks him with a dictionary.}

Frank:       Well...they are! So flail around like your ship's just been
	     hit, you tiny fools! [Everybody run back and forth, bouncing
	     off the theater walls.]

Deedee:	     Wherge brapped!

Frank:	     [What do you say to an Empath at the Emmies?] It's something
	     you'll get used to, having to use sign language.

Dr. Scotty:  Yoo'll be a' findin earrrth paeple dinna leave quite th'
	     marrrk yoo imagine when yoo drrrop 'em on a heavy grrravity
	     planet. This ionic diffuserrr, I ken it tae be soome kind o'
	     snooty, paerrrrverse alien vibrrrrato-castrrrato multi-
	     dimensional vorrrtex synchronizerrr doohickey? [No, it's
             DOOHAN!]

Weasley:     {Looking annoyed.} Where's the dictionary?

Dr. Scotty:  Aye, Wesley, 'tis soomthin' ourrr owne Federration has been
	     toilin' at these menna yhearrrrs. Boot, it seems ourr
	     hedgehog hearrrr has foond a means o' perrrfectin' it. A
	     device capable o' yankin' open th' porrch doors 'tween th'
	     dimensions!

Deedee:	     You mean he can send us to parallel universes? Got any
	     without men?

Frank: 	     And WITHOUT Spocky, heehee, Deedee!

	     You better beam up, Deedee K'Ice!
	     You better beam up, wipe your coldcream up!
	     You better beam up

Guinan:	     And she got steamed up...[Why don't you SHUT UP?]

Deedee:	     STOP!!!!!!!

Frank:	     If you get bent and squirmy
	     Try these Reticulan Blood Worm-ies... {He grabs a handful out
	     of a stainless steel bucket. Everyone shuts up.}

Weasley:     You're a tribble, and could you send her to a place with
	     bad mimes, FrankEinstein?

	     {Frank has had enough. He pulls the Big Switch on his multi-
	      purpose ionic diffuser. On one of the monitors Riker is
	      swinging by his heels with a line of Borg behind him doing
	      a Rockette number. The volume is low, but his screams can
	      be heard: "The Borg are everywhere! And they assimilated
	      Ethel Merman! AAAAAIIEEE!!" Frank changes the channel...}

   	     {Weasley is encased in a Slaver Stasis Field, TM.}

Dr. Scotty:  Ye'rre aa trrrribble, an' coold ye send haerr tae a place wi'
	     bad mimes, FrrrrrankEinstein?

	     {Dr. Scotty gets the stasis treatment.}

Deedee:	     As long as the mimes aren't guys I can---

	     {Stasis comes to Deedeetown.}

Coulombia:   Holy Sybok! I can't stand any more of this! [So turn off the
	     gravity generators.] First you spurn me for Worfie, and then
	     you turn him off like an old environmental containment field
	     for Spocky! You break people down to their component atoms
	     and then reconstitute them! I reached you...did you hear me?!
	     I reached you!! And what did that get me? Yeah, I'll tell you:
             [What do they use for Shatner's stunt double?] A big, fat
	     NOTHING! You're like a salt vampire! [How do you get to be an
             extra on Star Trek?] You suck, suck, suck and drain others
	     of their natural seasonings! Yeah, well, I've had enough!
	     You're gonna choose between me and Spocky, so named
	     because you can't pronounce his other name!

	     {Coulombia sports that fetching stasis glow.}

Frank:	     It's not easy having a FESTIVAL!! FESTIVAL!!!!! HAHAHAHA!!!

	     {Traveller backhands FrankEinstein, snapping him out of it.}

	     Even smiling makes me shed...
	     ...And my children turn out bald...
	     Spocky's behaving like Surac on speed...
	     Did I make a booboo, cramming Worfie's brain in there along with
	     Spocky's and a Daystrom M-5? [This unit must continue!]

Greena:	     Ahhhh....I'm running out of edible body paints. Vhen shall
	     vee return to Urania? [Does it matter? No, it anti-matters!]

	     {Traveller blips out, pops back in 2 feet above her. They
	      both go down...}

Frank:	     Greena, I am indeed grateful to you and your knobby organic
	     hotrod. You have both shampooed me well. You will find I can
	     be much more generous than that piker Garth. He's not even
	     REAL royalty. {Sniffs disdainfully.}

	     [What do you have to state in your contract to get to
	      work with Shatner?]

Greena:      I ask for nothing...nothing.

Frank:	     And so you shall get Wesley's sex life! [What can't Data do?]
	     Come, I programmed a Null-G Pan-Galactic All-Biped Revue!

Guinan:      So, probability curves dictated that Wesley and Deedee would
	     have to share billing with Dr. Montgomery Scott. But, it was
	     to be in an episode that they never would have shown during
	     sweeps week. And, just a few hours after attending the
	     Brobdingnagian ceremony together, Wesley and Deedee had both
 	     tasted forbidden Kaferrian apples. This in itself is proof
	     that I don't get out enough because acting like a smug,
	     fucking know-it-all takes up all my time. Ahem. What further
	     violations of the Federation charter were they to be subjected
	     to? And what of the Null-G Pan-Galactic All-Biped Revue that is
	     spoken of? In an empty space station? In the middle of the
	     night? [IT'S ALWAYS NIGHT IN SPACE!!!! DIE!!!] What insidious
	     organism had burrowed into Frank's crazed imagination, as if
	     I didn't know. From the shenanigans that had gone before it
	     was clear that this was to be no shore leave. Believe me, I
	     know. Better than you.

	     GENES BOMBED MY WORLD

	     {Frank flipping switches like Data reinserting isolinear
              chips. Gravity generators off. Ionic diffuser set to
	      un-stasify. Heartbeat volume raised to the first power.}

	     {Everyone starts floating around the huge space station
	      meeting hall.}

	     {Un-stasis Coulombia.}

Coulombia:   The Big Bang was when it all began...
	     Atoms, molecules, then hydro-carb-ah-ans.
	     Evolving as if with a plah-an,
	     To bring about mammalian glands.
	     [Describe a Ferengi's balls!]
	     Teeny things under a microscope
	     Have sent us down the sexual slope.
	     Genes bombed my world, sex is coded into my brain.

	     {Un-stasis Spocky.}

Spocky:      When they made me they broke the mold,
	     Human genes and Vulcan were all rolled
	     Up into something running hot and cold,
	     Sex is illogical and it makes me old!
	     So now anything that has a bust [Vote for Deanna Troi!]
	     Isn't safe from my seven year lust!
	     Genes bombed my world, sex is coded into my brain.

	     {Un-stasis Weasley.}

Weasley:     {It's clear his higher functions have been shorted out
	      completely.}

	     Mommy got me into Starfleet Academy.
	     I promised not to weewee...
	     Take these Depends away!
 	     What's this? Oh gee!
	     It's my peepee!
             Look! IT works! Didja SEE?!
             Yow! Swell, it moved again!

	     {Un-stasis Deedee.}

Deedee:	     {As bad as Weasley is, the ionic diffuser has REALLY done a
	      job on Deedee...}

 	     Wesley, you beast! You're such a hunk feast!
	     An Okona, at least! Now I don't think you're queer!
	     I'll be reprimanded, but Wes your crotch has sure expanded!
	     Did you know that I'm left-handed? [Wink wink.]
	     Bring your uniformed butt here!!!


	    		      DON'T HAIL IT


Frank:	     Whatever happened to Mr. Homme? [He's doing 3 to 5 for beating
	     up Lurch!]
	     That hairless, smooth-skinned calm?
	     He chugged all your booze,
	     Wasn't sick on your shoes...
	     I want his brand of hair-takeoff balm.

	     Don't worry so much about the Prime Directive.
	     Wreck some first contacts when you're feeling bored.
	     Just say your intership link is defective...
	     And fire full phasers, I find it effective.
	     Look at that fireball. Oh oh oh!

	     [Find someone in the audience you don't know and smile
	      innocently while you slug 'em.]

	     Don't hail it, nai-ail it.

All:	     Don't hail it, nai-ail it.

	     {The ionic diffuser chugs away. Unknown to FrankEinstein, on
              another channel Riker is having a tremendous pillow fight
	      with a Borg scout team dressed up as Old Earth's Spanish
              Inquisition. His screams vibrate the Big Switch until...}

	     {Big Switch drops.}

	     {Un-stasis Dr. Scotty.}

Dr. Scotty:  Begorrah! Wae've got tae get oot a' this trrap, aforre
	     soombody sees meh wi' this kilt! I've got tae be brrrawny,
             an' meh laegs look sa scrrrawny, ma prride coold verrah
	     wael snap!

Weasley:     {His brain is definitely taking the scenic route.} Mommy,
	     Big-E, farting in null gravity...

Deedee:      Oh Wes, your drool's so clear! [Yuck.]

Frank:       Oink oink oink oink oink oink oink oink oink oink oink oink..!
	     Your Federation has a real tight ass!
	     Mellow out and smoke some Deneb grass!
	     Grab a handful of Betazoid ass!
	     Don't pretend to have so much class!
	     Your DNA programs you all to fuck...
	     Compared to some life forms you got all the luck.
	     Genes bombed our worlds, sex is coded inside our brains!

	     {Everybody's floating around, getting it on. Traveller and
	      Greena come clomping into the hall wearing those spacesuits
	      with the magnatomically adhering boots. They aren't floating...
	      and they look like they mean business...}

Traveller:   Frank-Ein-stein, errr, see a barber!
	     Your mission is a failure!
	     And young Wesley's going to cream...
	     I am your new Shatner
	     You are now my gofer!
	     We warp back to Urania!
	     Go fetch the Gizmo Beam!

Frank:	     WAIT! I CAN MAKE EXCUSES!


				THE VOYAGE HOME


Frank:       A girdle and a hairpiece will...

All:	     Hold...

Frank:	     My looks together 'till...

All:	     I...

Frank:	     I get another series to come my way.

All:	     Oh my, my, my...

Frank:	     Write your local TV rep today.
	     'Cause I've seen, oh, reruns
	     Where I still had firm buns...
	     But now, there's just The Voyage Home.

All:	     The Voyage Home.

	     {Greena absently tattoos one of her naughty bits.}

Frank:	     Every show, it's been the same...

All:	     ...Reeling...

Frank:	     'Cause my acting's lame...

All:	     ...Dealing...

Frank:	     With no critical acclaim...

All:	     ...Spieling...

Frank:	     'Bout some margarine's fame...
	     'Cause I've seen, oh, reruns
	     Where I still had firm buns...
	     But now, there's just The Voyage Home.

Frank & All: The Voyage Home.

Greena:	     How disgustingly jiggly. Ever hear of an-aerobics? Get a good
	     workout and that vacuum really tightens your pores...

Traveller:   Jiggly, and let me be niggly. You see, when I said WE were to
	     return to Urania, I referred only to the green sex bomb here
	     and myself, for obvious reasons. Stick her in the middle of
	     nowhere long enough and even an Orion slave babe will
	     eventually get the hots for someone who plays the piano as
	     badly as I do. It's funny, however, that you misread the
	     semantic content label. You see, you are to remain in this
	     timeslot, until midseason, anyway.

	     {Traveller whips out what looks like a Doomsday machine with
	      a pistol grip. The business end sparkles like a pretty nuclear
	      meltdown.}

Dr. Scotty:  Grrreat meself! That's a zapper! [Zap ON! (clap clap) ZapOFF!
	     (clap clap) Zap ON Zap OFF...The Zapper!]

Traveller:   Yes, Dr. Scotty, a zapper capable of emitting a beam of pure
	     anti-proton. At this distance, it will go through him like
	     tissue paper.

Weasley:     You mean...you're going to kill him? I never saw him wet
	     himself.

Dr. Scotty:  Ye ken [Wrong organ!] wha becaeme o' Worfie. Restaurrrants moost
	     be prahtaected.

Traveller:   Hmm? Sorry, I stepped out to a globular cluster in Andromeda
	     for a moment. Anyway, FrankEinstein, it's time to be cancelled.
	     Say "Live long and prosper" to all of this, and "Hailing
	     frequencies open" to oblivion...

	     {Coulombia realizes this episode won't have any comedy relief,
	      screams. Her subatomic particles get a big noogie.}

	     {Frank gets a good push off a wall, kicks in his boot thrusters.
	      Even passing Mach 1, Traveller leads him like a champ, and
	      blasts him a good one. Frank is D.O.I. (Dead On Impact.) Too
	      bad those thrusters don't have an auto-off device...}

	     {Spocky grabs FrankEinstein's body, and speeds off to an
	      abandoned turbolift shaft. He climbs up, past floor 12, then
    	      floor 4, 52, 741...Traveller pops in a little below him,
	      and blips off a couple of shots. That damn Vulcan stamina...
              gets several neat little holes drilled through it.}

Deedee:       They never realized the gravity of their situation.

Greena:	      I thought you liked them? You had plenty of lobe wax...

Traveller:    They never waxed me! HE didn't wax ME!

Dr. Scotty:   Now, whaere d'ye keep the Saurrian brrrandy? AH naed a wee
	      drram...

Traveller:    A command decision had to be made. Launch a recorder buoy
              with the most recent log entries.

Dr. Scotty:   Aye, saer.

	      {They both stop and look at each other warily.}

Traveller:    Errr...sorry about your nephew Worfie. You two don't look...
	      How...your nephew?

Dr. Scotty:   Ah saed, DOON'T AHSK! Paerhaps it's all faer th' baest...

Traveller:    You should beam away now, Dr. Scotty, while they can still
	      get a lock on you. We are about to activate the ionic
	      diffuser and rip a large chunk of this station out of your
	      space-time continuum. {Faintly from the equipment behind
	      him Riker's screams mingle with the theme from "The Muppet
	      Show."} Go...{A sonic boom makes everyone jump. Their eyes
 	      follow 2 flaming burn-out strips out a corridor into the
	      distance. Traveller speaks to them over a monitor from a
	      control room 7 miles away.} ...NOW!

	      {Everyone starts frantically digging through the junk for
	       a working communicator. Weasley pulls out an old, semi-
	       transparent one, just in time...

	       ...for everyone to get scorched and flattened by the
	       interdimensional vortex recoil.}

	      {Traveller is watching from a monitor in the control room.
	       He turns to Greena and cracks his knuckles, all six of
	       them.}

Traveller:    Our mission is completed, my most tonsil-tickling space
	      tomato. [What's tho worst pickup line in the universe?]
	      Want to hear some Klingon Opera? {He programs the
	      replicator for a piano...}

		     SYNDICATION/MY NEW FEATURE - REPRISE

Picard's Lips: And Scrooge DID keep Christmas in his heart...oops.

	      Syndication,
	      My last feature.
	      Kill William Shatner's
	      Acting teacher.
	      Don't sit down on
	      Wil Wheaton's lah-ap.
	      If your dress has
	      A back flah-ap.
	      Wo oh oh ohhh uh uh ohhh...
	      At the primetime, syndicated,
              Picture Show.
	      I want to go uh uh ohhh
	      To the primetime, syndicated,
              Picture Showwwwwwwww.


- --
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