Spam Trek 2

by Graham Goring (goringgn@aston.ac.uk)   27 October 1994

The scene starts on the bridge of the USS RENTA-PIES NCC-1702 Captain Jon-Luk-Pickle is talking over the intercom with Gordy La Porridge ...

Pickle:

Okay, so that's a fiver each way, right?

He notices the camera and develops a sudden bout of coughing.

Pickle:

HAck! BleArg! OrF! oRf! Right crew ... that concludes my talk on the evil of gambling. So, erm, any questions? No, good. Right then, what's on the plot agenda? Any dangerous missions for Wessey? No? Damn!

Wessey:

Hey!

Pickle:

Anyway we'll soon alter that. Gordy wants to see you down in engineering, god knows why, you're as thick as two short planks!

Wessey:

Harrumph. (He leaves)

Down in engineering Gordy is preparing a large electronic rig. Wessey enters and Gordy looks up.

Gordy:

Ah, Wessey, come here will you?

Wessey:

(Walks over to him) What's this Mr La Porridge?

Gordy:

Oh, I'm modifying the sensor array with this very simple piece of seemingly harmless equipment.

Wessey:

Is this the piece that rips a hole in reality and and drags through a hideous creature from another dimension?

Gordy:

No, that was last month wasn't it?

Wessey:

Nah, last month was the deadly artefact story, You're thinking of the month before that, so I figured two month gap, 'bout time for a plot repeat.

Gordy:

Okay, flick the switch will you?

Wessey reaches out and flicks the switch. There is a blinding flash which cost the special fx department about fourteen cents, and a figure appears in the smoking machine.

Wessey:

ARGH!

Gordy:

AARRGGHHHGGGHHHAARGGGHAGRAGAHRARAHAGRHGRAGH!

Wessey:

Show off.

The figure approaches, proffering a pack of playing cards.

Paul:

Now you'll like this, but not-a-lot, say 'Yes Paul!'

Gordy:

(Pressing com-badge) Captain, we have a hostile entity on board, possibly a crap magician!

Pickle:

Not ...

Gordy:

Yes ...

Pickle:

But ...

Gordy:

I know ...

Pickle:

I thought ...

Gordy:

It didn't ...

Pickle:

Listen, who are we actually talking about here?

Gordy:

Paul Daniels!

Pickle:

Not Wayne Dobson then?

Gordy:

No.

Pickle:

Oh, that's okay then. I hate the way he does those silly voices, used to give me nightmares that did.

Gordy:

What do you suggest we do?

Pickle:

I always find changing the channel quite enjoyable, but in this case I think you should shoot him, repeatedly, on a high setting, whilst beating him up with a spike.

Gordy:

Captain, you seem to have a personal vendetta against him ... are you sure you want him killed?

Pickle:

If you'd seen what he did to Saturday night TV you'd want him dead too!

Gordy:

I can't kill him, you see, he's my child JR!

Pickle:

Dammit Alexis, we have to have him killed or he'll inherit half of the oil fields in America!

Gordy:

He's my lover too, I won't let you harm him!

Pickle:

I won't let you stand in my way any longer you evil witch! Hey! This isn't our autocue, somebody gave us Dynasty's autocue, where's ours?

Gordy:

Erm ...

In the ensuing chaos Paul Daniels escapes and hides somewhere in the ship ... Gordy reports this to Captain Pickle and is fired, then he blames it on Wessey, which the captain thinks is a far more plausible explanation and Wessey is sentenced to death by American sitcom ... but I digress.

Back on the bridge ...

Pickle:

Nice bridge this, what type of stone would you say Dartar?

Darter:

My sensors indicate a large degree of silicates in the rock, it's probably a sedimentary of some kind as yet un-encountered.

Pickle:

Oh well, better get back to the ship's bridge ...

They leave the holodeck and take turbolift four to the bridge. Boring "elevator music" plays.

Pickle:

Damn it, I hate lift music. Computer, cease music.

Darter:

(Humming quietly to himself in time with the music) Oh, I liked that.

The lift arrives at the ship's bridge and Captain Pickle steps out, followed by Dartar. They sit down and exchange a few greetings with other members of the bridge crew. Shortly after, a song starts up and they all start slapping each others backs and eating party food. Then Wessey points out that there is in fact an emergency going on ...

Pickle:

Party pooper.

Wessey:

Sorry captain, but as you know, I'm the ship's regulation square git who everyone's mom hopes their little boy will grow up to be like.

Pickle:

(Grudgingly) Okay, red alert. I think we'd all better go to the observation lounge so I can ask if anyone has any suggestions ...

In the observation lounge ... after forty minutes of everyone making their way there via various turbolifts and getting lost in the process due to the ships computer being a ZX81 ...

Pickle:

Any suggestions?

Ricky:

Yes.

Pickle:

Right, everybody back to the bridge!

Two hours later, after searching for Chekow around the ship so that he could be killed off in the finale on the bridge.

Pickle:

Right number two, what's the plan?

Ricky:

Oh, I've forgotten.

Pickle:

You're fired.

Warf:

Er, I have a plan.

Pickle:

You can't have a plan. Your role is to stand there looking thick and trying to start world war seven all the time. But, just for the sake of it, and perhaps a laugh too, how do you propose we get rid of Paul Daniels?

Warf:

I say we seal off the bridge and pump deadly toxins around the rest of the ship! It's good for two reasons. One, we don't die. Two, Dana Troy does die.

Pickle:

I like it! Make it so Mr Warf!

Warf:

Shall I put in an order for a new crew as well?

Pickle:

Yes, you do that, but make sure all the regulars are on the bridge before you start pumping.

Warf:

They are already, minus Dana Troy of course.

Pickle:

Good, begin pumping in five minutes. Oh, Wessey, I believe I left my, erm, coat in my quarters. Be a pal and go and get it will you?

Wessey:

Har har har.

Pickle:

Damn! Oh well, begin pumping.

Dana Troy chooses this opportunity to walk in from the captain's ready room.

Dana:

Hello everybody!

Everyone:

Bugger **!+!@#!+!

Pickle:

It seems there is some space left on this page, number two, any ideas on how to fill it?

Ricky:

We could make our stories have a moral, like those cruddy spanner bra-wearer cartoons.

Pickle:

Good one, right, what shall it be?

Darter:

Don't smoke?

Pickle:

Too corny ...

Gordy:

Don't count your chickens until they've hatched?

Pickle:

Nope ...

Wessey:

Do your homework?

Pickle:

Hmmmph! Might have expected that from you! Next!

Chekow:

How about a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush?

Pickle:

Nah ... Hey! What are you still doing here? I know a good moral for the story, 'Kill The Rusky'!

Everyone, excluding Chekow:

Yeah!!!

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