Suliban: The temporal cold war also made someone not hit preview. I’ll just leave again
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meanwhile on the Suliban hexagons
Random Suliban 1: Oh great dark and mysterious trippy guy from the future, guide us in our ways
Random Suliban 2: Dude, can you turn down the heat in here? The walls are starting to wave
Random Suliban 1: That’s not my job. That’s the job of the Suliban engineer.
Random Suliban 3: You’re the Suliban engineer!
Random Suliban 1: Really? How can you tell? I look just like you.
Great Dark and Mysterious Trippy Guy from the Future: Destroy Enterprise!
Random Suliban 2: Did you say something?
Random Suliban 1: Nope
Random Suliban 2: You sure? It sounded like “Helen of Troy with a side of fries”
Random Suliban 3: That makes no sense
Great Dark and Mysterious Trippy Guy from the Future: Destroy Enterprise!
Random Suliban 3: Destroy Enterprise, that sounds like a good idea.
Random Suliban 4: Did I ever tell you guys about the time when I was on the cargo hexagon?
Random Suliban 1: Shut up!
Great Dark and Mysterious Trippy Guy from the Future: Destroy Enterprise!
Random Suliban 1: Who are you anyway?
Great Dark and Mysterious Trippy Guy from the Future walks out from the time portal.
Random Suliban 1: Oh my god!
Random Suliban 2: It’s…
Random Suliban 3: It’s…
Random Suliban 4: It’s Gene Roddenberry!
Gene Roddenberry: For the love of all that’s Holy, destroy Enterprise!
Archer: Hoshi, we have just received a one hour transmission from a totally unkown alien species, a species not even those smart ass Vulcans have met. A totally new language! It uses sounds, colors and textures and smells. Translate it.
Hoshi: Yes sir, (three second pause), It sounds like they are requesting our help in repairing their warp coil transducers, which suffered from - I think they said inverse alignment, but it could be an obverse linear re-arrangement - I’m a linguist damnit, not an engineer!, they need our help in setlling a 326,654 year old cultural dispute over the proper shade of nail polish, they have offered to supply a complete and lucid explanation of quantum physics, they want to know the meaning of life, are willing to share their recipie for chilli, they want us to make the people of another planet to stop picking on them and make nice, they claim to know exactly what a Jefferies
Tube is used for, and finally they want T’Pol, myself and someone called “Seven of Nine” to appear together in Maxim. I can’t quite get the rest, since it is rather technical and I have absolutely no key or primer or any conceivable method to translate this gibbersh. Give me about ten minutes.
Archer: Yeah, OK, whatever. If anyone needs me, I’ll be feeding my dog cheese.
T’Pol: Seven of Nine? - interesting.
Mayweather: Hey, that’s not fair. Hoshi just got more lines than I get in an entire season.
Tucker: Hey, do we call the chef “chef” because we call the Enterprise “Enterprise?” Why don’t we just say “captain” instead of “the” captain? And why can’t I have a dog?
Chef: We call da Chef Chef because that;s his name, like the name of Enterprise is Enterprise. The Captain’s name is stu…er, Archer, that;s why we call him the Captain.
You lil’ crackers ask too many questions.
And the Klingons. What is it with those guys?
Porthos: “Trip, you can’t have a dog because you’re too stupid to feed me. I almost staved to death the last time ol’ Archer boy here went away. So, shut up and dance. I like watching you dance.”
Hoshi: “Um, the dog just talked.”
Admiral Forrest: Archer, the ratings are slipping. Take off your shirt. and get Hoshi topless again for goodness sakes!
Archer: Why not just have some good written episodes with a mix of ship fighting?
Admiral Forrest: That is the cowards way out! I’m transferring a new blonde vulcan to your ship, so you and her and T’Pol can have a love triangle
Archer: Ziggy, get me out of here!
Chef: Admiral Crack…er, Forrest told me to take over. Ziggy will meet you just around the corner at 101st and Broadway.
Archer: Corner of…? We’re in deep space.
Chef: Ya’ll jus’ get on out the door, I doan have time for this. I want to lay down by the fire with these wimmin, er take command,
(begins singing) On the good ship, En-ter-prise, it’s a"
Archer:“Abandon ship! All hands abandon ship!”
Reed: Sir, a Romulan warbird just de-cloaked off the starboard bow!
Hoshi: They’re hailing us…oh my God, they look just like Vulcans!
Archer: Well, they must be friendly then…Hi guys! We’re just out having a look-see at stuff! Anything neat-o to see around here?
Romulan Officer: This insult means the start of a lengthy and brutal war, Earther scum!
Trip: Hey, Cap’n, several thousand irate critters callin’ themselves “Trekkies” just materialized in th’ engin’ room and they’re raisin’ one hell of a ruckus about “series continuity”, whatever that means. This don’t have somethin’ to do with them Suliban fellas, does it?
Reed: Captain, I believe that if I reverse the polarity on the hull plating whilst re-routing the protein sequencer through the warp plasma conduits and establishing a rotating inverse multiplexing modulating frequency shift I can defeat the Romulans’ cloaking device.
Trip: Now they’re screamin’ ‘bout “mindless technobabble” and sayin’ a couple o’ guys named “Berman” and “Braga” are gonna wish they was “red-shirted ensigns”.
Mysterious Shadowy Time-Travelling Guy Who Tells the Suliban What to Do: The…Enterprise!…must!..be!..destroyed! Your orders are to…destroy! the…Enterprise…at all costs! Is that…clear?
Mayweather: To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and, by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub…
M.S.T.-T.G.W.T.t.S.W.t.D.: Lucy!..in, the…Sky!..with…Diamonds!
Phlox: Hoshi, you appear to have caught a virus from the Romulan communications carrier wave, which has also infected T’Pol. I’m afraid both of you will have to report to the decontamination chamber and spend the next half hour or so thoroughly rubbing medicinal gel all over each other’s bodies, particularly your pectoral areas.
Hoshi: “Well, OK. But do I have to use my hands? I’m much more comfortable using only my tongue.”
Tars Tarkus: “Oh my god! Did I just die and go to heaven?”
Vivalostwages: “No, you’re just mostly dead. Here, take this obscenely large chocolate covered pill.”
Reed: “Intruder alert thingy, Captain.”
Archer: “I’m sorry, I was looking at T’Pol’s naked breasts. They seem to be rather large for such a skinny little girl. Don’t you think so, NoClueBoy?”
NoClueBoy: “Haven’t I already started that thread?”
T’Pol: “Yes. you did. Back to the series. It seems we have been shrunk down to molecular level and are currently swimming thriuhg the bloodstream of a rather obese hoo-mahn named Jared. For some reason, I now want a club supreme sandwich. Illogical.”
Porthos: “I thought I said to dance, Trip! Now dance!”
Hoshi: “You know, this dog talking thing is getting me hot. I mean, literally hot. Mind if I disrobe?”
Archer, Phlox, Carniverousplantguy, NoClueBoy, Tars Tarkus, Brian Eakers, MST-TGWTtWtD, & others: “By all means!”
Trip: “I can’t dance. I can’t sing…”
Phil Collins: “Man, I need a drink.”
Kn*ckers: “Me, too. Which way to 10 forward?”
Wearia: “Hey, Kn*ckers! Wait for me!”
You can be arrested for this in Nigeria.
How did you know where I am?
[alternate reality shifts back into place]
Klingon: “Human scum! I am being ignored! I demand a death.”
Reed shoots him, sending internal organs and pinkish blood everywhere as the Klingon explodes.
T’Pol: “Oh! That is just gross, NoClueBoy! Rewrite! NOW!”
Wearia: Hey how did I get dragged into this mess?
NoClueBoy: Quiet you!
Wearia: Yes…sir… Hey klingon guts! Get Chef up here!
Trip: I want pie!
vivalostwages: I was just wondering where you were, Wearia. I thought the transporter glitch had scrambled you to infinity and back. And where is ChuckForbin? Still lost in another timeline?
Trip: Very funny, T’Pol. I wanted **pecan ** pie, not plomeek pie!
Archer: Doctor Phlox, can I come out of the decon chamber yet? I don’t think I can take another minute of being in here watching T’Pol rubbing oil all over her body. You know, because of my… :::wink wink:::
Phlox: I’m sorry captain, is there something in your eye?
Archer: No, you know! My… :::wink wink::: sexual frustraion?
Phlox: Ah, then did the Denobulan magazines I provided you with not do the trick?
Archer: er… not really. I’m still trying to figure out the three-headed wombat looking thing on page 23…
:::a brief blue numbus ensues, unseen by present crewmembers:::
Archer: Oh, boy…
T’Pol: Is something wrong, Captain?
Archer: Captain? er… no, er… yowza! er… no, everything is fine, crewman… er… woman. uh… being.
T’Pol: You are suddenly acting very strangely, in an illogical shift from the usual strange way that you tend to behave. Turn around so that I can rub more gel on your back.
:::time passes. Gel flows:::
:::Shoooonk!::::
Al: Ah, Sam, there you are!
Archer/Sam: What took you so long, Al?
T’Pol: What was that, captain?
Al: We had trouble locating you. Ziggy thinks there is a 75% probability that you are here to save the Enterprise from… a giant space leech…? I’m sorry, Sam. Ziggy isn’t making much sense… She also thinks that there is a 61% probability that you are here to rub gel on the Vul-can’s huge breasts, uh… :::noticing T’Pol::: iy-yi-yi! Oh my god, that reminds me of my fourth… er… no, second… no, third wife! Ohhhhhhhhh…
I don’t really have any ideas to play along, I just thought it would be appropriate to post a link to London_Calling’s stellar performance in one of my favorite threads of all time.
Archer: a little to the left
T’Pol: Perhaps I should goo you down as well captain.
Panda: grooooowll
Archer: Who the hell are you?
Panda: I’m Pander the Panda.
T’Pol: What are you doing here?
Panda: I make an appearance whenever you do something completely nonsensical for the sake of pandering to some portion of the audience.
Archer: We’ve had tons of Decon scenes before. How come you just now came?
Panda: Sorry. I’ve been busy over on the set of Girls Gone Wild.
Porthos: Arf!
Panda: grooooowll
Porthos: Arf!
Panda: grooooowll
Porthos: Arf!
Panda: grooooowll
Archer: Will you two shut the hell up?
Panda: Sorry about that captain. I go into a feedback loop whenever I’m around cute animals.
Phlox: Captain, there are other contaminations on the ship. I’m sending one in right now.
Cute child: Hi, my name is Naomiwesleyjake and I’m really sick. cough cough I think I can still pilot the ship if you need me to, captain.
Panda: grooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowll
Archer: OH MY GOD! The panda ate Naomiwesleyjake! Malcom! Ready the torpedos!
Malcom: Wait I have to calibrate them again.
T’Pol: It is illogical to shoot a torpedo at a panda Captain.
Trip: I think I found some pie in the exhaust vent! chomp Nope…
Panda: grrrrrooooowwwwwwllllllllll
T’Pol: Captain, we must kill the panda. It is a manner of honor.
Archer: Since when do the Vulcans care about honor?
T’Pol: Don’t you remember the High Council sending me to catch the sixth Vulcan, because of honor?
Hoshi: I thought the Vulcans were obsessed with LOGIC. It’s the Klingons who are all about honor.
Trip: Right, and the Ferengis are about greed. And the Andorrians are all aggressive. And the Romulans - uh. Anyone remember what one trait the Romulans have?
Reed: Since we don’t actually get to see them for a hundred years, I guess they represent sneakiness.
Hoshi: Don’t be too sure we won’t see them. After all, we weren’t supposed to run into the Ferengis until the 24th century.
Trip: Yeah, but that’s explained by the temporal cold war. People are messing with the timelines.
T’Pol: The Vulcan Science Council has determined that time travel is imposs-
Everyone, including Porthos: Oh, shut up.
Archer: Actually, I’m more concerned that the writers can’t remember the one trait they have assigned to each alien species. I mean, if they can’t remember that, maybe they’ll start swapping OUR one trait each among the other actors,
Trip: You mean I could start prattling about cargo ships?
Travis: And I could start obsessing on water polo?
Reed: Yes, and I could become all genial like the doctor.
Archer: That would be an improvement, Malcolm.
Synopsis:
A black hole captures the Enterprise, sucking the ship, its crew, the show, and all of its fans into oblivion.
The End.