This page last updated 12 June 2000

Star Drek: The Degeneration

posted by Chris Hahn (chahn@iemisi.uucp)
While at a Halloween Party this past weekend (Star Trek Theme) this parody was floating around so I grabbed a copy 'cause I thought you guys out in netland might like it. Some people might take offence at the way it flames the show and one person in particular (you figure it out), but I got a kick out of it.
Sooooo enjoy it or hate it for what it is ... take it with a grain of salt if you don't like it.
31 October 1988

The Goodship Enterprise is in orbit around a big, fluffy pink cloud.

Nose Picar:

(Voice Over) Captain's Law, Stardate 1960: We are in close orbit around an unknown form. It looks to be a large, pink, fluffy cloud.

Dissolve to Bridge. Captain JEAN-Nose Picar is in on of the several command seats. His first officer, Commander BILLY BOB Biker, is next to him. All other crew members are at their regular stations.

Nose Picar:

(Voice Over) (Continuing) I have sent Lt. Geordi La Porge to take a real look at the cloud. So, since there is still a half hour before lunch will be served on the Aloha Deck, we will unfortunately infestigate. Personally, I'm bored.

Billy Bob Biker is currently watching the large viewing screen. Nose Picar is buffing his nails. He is tired of buffing his nails, but he continues nonetheless.

Biker:

(As he brushes a lock of thick black hair from his brow. It was hanging Kirkishly over his eyes. We can't have that) The pink cloud is making me tired, sir. Can we please change the channel?

Nose Picar:

(As he examines his handy work) Huh?

Biker:

I'm bored, Captain. What are we waiting for?

Nose Picar:

(Shrugging, continuing to buff) Calm down, Cumber Bun ...

Biker:

That's Number One, sir.

Nose Picar:

Whatever. Any who ... We're waiting for the blind one to come back. He's looking out one of our windows to get a real look at that cloud thing.

Biker looks perplexed. Even more than usual.

Biker:

Why not just have the android use ship's sensors on the cloud, sir?

Nose Picar:

(Throws his buffer at Biker and misses, of course. Angry, fuming) This is not the time for rash actions, Cumber Bun. And his name is Data!

Biker:

(Pointing to his own chest) It's Number One, sir.

Nose Picar tilts his head to one side in deep thought. You know, the way your dog does.

Nose Picar:

(Shakes his head) No. No, I'm sure it's Data!

Cumber Bun ... er... oops ... Number One sighs. He gets up, walks to the large wooden wheel that steers the ship, and stands in front of it in that strange posture he always has... as if he were about to draw in a gun fight.

Nose Picar:

Cumber Bun, why are you standing like that?

Biker:

(Embarrassed) Chafing, sir.

Nose Picar:

Ah. Quite. (Pause) Carry on.

Nose Picar picks up a book he is reading in his spare time. He begins to read (his lips moving) from Dr. Seuss goes to Vulcan. "I will not live long and prosper, my middle name is not Foster. I am not Silek son of Sam, I will not eat green eggs and ham!"

La Porge enters from the turbolift and walks to the captain's chair. He stands at attention, ready to report.

Geordi:

Lt. Geordi La Porge, reportin' as ordered, Massah Cap'n.

Nose Picar:

I did not ask for you, I'm reading a chapter or two.

Data:

(Turning from his science station) You asked him to check on the ... on the ... on the ... on the ... on the ...

The crew member next to the android hits him on the head.

Data:

... pink cloud.

 

Nose Picar:

(Turns angrily to Mr. Data) I knew that! (To La Porge) Report.

Geordi:

It was fantastic, suh. I saws all sorts of colours. And boy suh, I could've danced to it!

Nose Picar:

Your number will come later in the show, La Porge. Now ... (he does that dog tilt again) what kinds of colours?

Geordi:

Well, Massah Cap'n, it's like nothin' I's ever seens befoa!

Nose Picar:

Well, what colour was it close to?

Geordi:

Suh, it was kinda close to the way your fried chicken is pinkish when its not really cooked.

Nose Picar:

(Dog tilt, again) Pinkish?

Geordi:

Like fresh watermelon, maybe? Pinkish, suh.

Nose Picar:

Pink?

Geordi:

Pink, suh!

Biker:

Pink?

Geordi:

Fluffy pink, suh!

Data, believing that no one knows what pink means, turns again from his science station to explain.

Data:

Pink, a colour. Between white and red. Idiomatically, a condition. For example: In the pink. Meaning ...

Nose Picar:

That's quite enough, Number One. This is not the time for rash explanations!

Data:

It's Data, sir.

Nose Picar:

(Turns to Biker and exclaims) See. I told you it was Data, Cumber Bun!

Biker's eyes begin to fill with tears.

Data:

Captain, If I may, I believe I can Tell you what the cloud is.

Nose Picar:

Then go ahead. Make it so. So it is written, so it shall be done!

Data:

I believe the cloud to be the personalities of the crew. It is a conglomeration of the very human qualities we shed to take on this mission.

Nose Picar:

I don't remember shedding my human qualities.

Data:

Perhaps you never had any, sir. However, the rest of the crew, excluding my android self, of course, had to give up all their passions, sensibilities, conflict, loyalties, in essence, their humanness, to the Great Turd of the Galaxy.

Biker:

Who's the Great Turd?

Data:

All we know Commander, is that he has grey hair and wears shirts from the 1960's. You know, the kind with the large collars and flower patterns?

Nose Picar

(Tapping his insignia/communicator/apple peeler) Nose Picar to Counsellor Goi. Report to the bridge.

The turbolift doors open and Counsellor Goi walks to Nose Picar.

Goi:

Yes sir?

Nose Picar:

What do you feel, Counsellor?

Goi:

I feel fine, sir. How are you today?

Nose Picar:

No, no! What do you feel from the cloud?

Goi:

The pink one? Nothing.

Nose Picar:

Aren't you supposed to have Psi powers?

Goi:

Oh, that? No, I was just borrowing those from Lt. Ilia from the first movie.

Data:

(Interrupting) Sir, the cloud is sending us a message. They want us to take them back.

Nose Picar:

No! We can't let that happen. Turd forbid that we be human. Raise the shields. Get us the hell out of here. Let's go somewhere for lunch.

Geordi:

Yes, Massah Cap'n.

Geordi takes the steering wheel and steps on the gas and the Enterprise leaves the cloud behind.

Nose Picar:

Well, I'm glad that's over. You know Cumber Bun ...

Biker:

Number One, sir.

Nose Picar:

Whatever. (Pause) You know, we're better without humanness.

Biker:

How so, Captain?

Nose Picar:

We're perfect. Perfect, Cumber Bun!

Biker:

It's Number One, sir. Number One.

Nose Picar:

Whatever.