Something's Not Right Here....
By Christochi Ishida: The Crown Prince of Hardcore
(Bridge shot. All appears normal)
Kirk: Captain's Log, Stardate 22.3, rounded off to the . . . nearest decimal point.
Chekov: Vhat?
Kirk: Silence, Ensign, or I'll redshirt you!
(Chekov is absolutely terrified.)
Spock: Captain, there appears to be a large abnormality directly in front of us.
Kirk: What makes you say that, Spock?
Spock: (points to main viewscreen) Because it's right there, sir.
Chekov: VE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! (collapses)
McCoy: He's dead, Jim!
Kirk: Bones!? When did you get here?
McCoy: (shrugs) The author put me here.
Kirk: Great, those crazy bitches are back.
McCoy: Actually, this is a different author.
Kirk: Really??? YES!!! I'M FREE!!!
McCoy: Yes. It's the younger author's friend.
(Kirk is suddenly very afraid.)
Kirk: How much does he know?
(A large anvil falls and destroys the command chair.)
Kirk: NO!!! MY CHAIR!!!
Sulu: Obviously enough.
Uhura: PAVEL!!! (glomps Chekov's unmoving body)
Kirk: Bones, I order you to save him!
McCoy: But he's dead, Jim!
Kirk: FIX HIM DAMNIT!
McCoy: Damnit Jim, I'm a doctor, not . . . aw screw it! (gets out Rubix cube) aWEE-nee-wrap, aWEE-nee-wrap-a . . .
Chekov: Argh! (jumps up)
Uhura: PAVEL!!! (glomp)
Spock: This is most irregular. Even our usual writers gave us some resemblence of a plot. Granted, they weren't good plots, but . . .
Sulu: Captain, a mysterious planet has suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
(Crew turns to main view screen.)
McCoy: Cool.
Kirk: We're going down there! Someone get as many redshirts as you can, along with Scotty.
(All gather in transporter room. All are beamed down.)
Spock: Facinating.
Kirk: What is?
Spock: (shrugs)
(Suddenly—)
Mysterious Voice From Above: Hi, I'm your new author. I'm not entirely sure as to what to do now.
Kirk: (grins evily) Well, I, as the captain, can't die. Also, I always get the hot, sexy—
Voice: Oh yeah! I know!
(Chekov's phaser amazingly goes off. Sadly, it blasts Scotty right in the ass.)
Scotty: OY!!! Me poor wee ass!
Voice: Where is that damn button? Oh, here it is—
(A large anvil falls and cracks Kirk on the head. His toupee saves him and falls to the ground.)
Kirk: NO!!! YOU KILLED MY TRIBBLE!!!
Sulu: I KNEW IT!!! (gets out sampling jar and tweezers)
Kirk: Now what's gonna happen?
(Suddenly the dead toupee glows orange and grows to fifty times its size.)
Crew: AAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Spock: Sir, we have approximately five hundred female Klingons head for us, probably with the intent to kill and maim.
(Giant Tribble jumps up and squashes all the Klingons, along with most of the red shirts.)
Chekov: AAAAHHHH!!!!!! (tries to fire phaser. The phaser shoots the overused sparkles)
Chekov: Darnit!
Kirk: Everyone but Chekov, FIRE!!!
(Kirk's phaser explodes, knocking him into a 'conviently' placed giant rock. Everyone else's phaser fires and kills the Giant Tribble.)
Kirk: Screw this! Everyone, back on board!
(Crew returns to bridge. Two sixteen year-olds are there: a young lady with long, dark hair and a beautiful face and body, and a young man with shoulder-lengh lavender hair, partially covering his right eye.)
Kirk: Who the hell are you?
Girl: Well, I'm Jesanae Tekani, and this is my good friend, Christochi Ishida.
Ishida: We're your writers!
Crew: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tekani: Don't worry, we're leaving. Bye-bye!
(Ishida snaps his fingers. Both disappear.)
Crew: Cool . . .
Kirk: Well, I'm going to bed. Ensign, you know what happens if I get woken up.
Chekov: (sighs) What else is new?
Space . . . the final frontier . . .
These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise . . .
Her continuing mission . . .
To explore randomly created planets . . .
To experience tantalizing new nookie whenever possible . . .
To unsuccessfully go where no one in their right mind has tried to go before!
The End