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skot AT izzlepfaff DOT com

Wednesday, 16 July
Star Trek: The Dumb Generation

(The bridge of the Enterprise.)

Picard: Ah, space. The inky expanse; the cold glitter of the stars. How it soothes me with its limitless wonder . . . we are adrift on the sea of night, and I captain this fragile vessel through its troubled waters. What manner of being might we meet next? Ferengi? Borg? Mormons? No matter what foe or what crisis, I will remain courageously bald. Yessss. (Pause.) Christ, I'm bored. WESLEY! Status!

Wesley: Everyone hates me, sir.

Picard: Yes, I've seen the mail.

Wesley: I hate our writers.

Picard: Quiet, ensign. Number One! I require entertainment. Please favor us with a gratuitous trombone solo.

Riker: Aye aye, sir! (He begins playing trombone. As he skronks away miserably, the rest of the bridge staff roll their eyes and pantomime vomiting. Worf in particular seems quite afflicted, and his forehead prosthesis quivers threateningly.)


(Worf launches himself at Riker and beats him to death with the trombone. The bridge staff stares in horror.)

Picard: MISTER WORF! Explain yourself! This is the ninetieth time you have lapsed into incomprehensible Klingon and completely defied all Federation protocol, for which I have never once punished you! Tell me now why I should not do so now!

Worf: Did you hear him?

Picard: . . . well . . .

Worf: And don't tell me you weren't sick of that mustache.

Picard: . . . well . . .

(Another Riker enters from the turbolift. He is clean-shaven.)


Riker: Yes, you see (mumble mumble) transporter reflection (mutter mutter) bounced the signal (mrrf mfff) creative desperation (ugga oob) so you see, I am an exact copy of the old Riker! (He sees the mangled corpse on the floor.) Uh, but friskier!

Picard: I see.

Troi: He's dreamy.

Riker: Deanna. Darling. I only have eyes for you, and several dozen other women.

Troi: I know, my love. You are a pussyhound. I understand.

Riker: Rad.

LaForge: Fucking shit!

Picard: Mr. LaForge!

LaForge: Captain . . . I've picked up something on long range scanners. I think it's the Crystalline Entity! Oh, this is a frightening fuck in the deepening dark!

Data: Confirmed, Captain. The Entity is approaching at warp nine.

Picard: The Crystalline Entity. Jesus wept. Can't somebody put this fucking thing through a dishwasher cycle or something? What's next, the Ming Vase Monster?


Troi: I can't believe I dated you.

Picard: Silence! I'm bald! (Tense pause, then he taps his communicator badge.) Bridge to Doctor Crusher!

Crusher: (audio) Yes, Captain? And before you say anything else, you haven't had your regulation physical in over six months. You will comply with my wishes or I will once again peevishly threaten to remove you from command.

Picard: (sotto voce) How many times does this woman have to fondle my nuts? (To Crusher) Acknowledged, Doctor. You have as always been no help at all. I will contact you later so we may generate fruitless sexual tension. Picard out.

Crusher: Crusher out, much like my husband whose death you are responsible for.

Picard: You kill one husband and that's all you hear about . . .

Data: Captain! The Entity is closing.

Picard: What are its coordinates?

Data: Relative to what? We're in space.

Picard: Belay that order!

Data: (bewildered) What?

Picard: No time! Geordi, can you get a transporter lock?

LaForge: No, Captain! Fuck my ass! The transporters are down! Motherfucker!

Worf: Captain! My two-hundred pound honorific metal bandolier is extremely heavy and is chafing my nipples!

Data: Sir, we are running out of time. If you wish, I can do things really fast on the computer.

Picard: Faster than talking to it?

Data: No, sir. But it looks really cool when I do things fast.

Picard: Make it so!

(Data does things really fast.)

Wesley: Captain, I'm beginning to glow with dewy innocence.

Picard: Understood, Mr. Crusher. This will push the NAMBLA numbers way up.

Wesley: What?

Troi: Quiet, Wesley, not now. Look at my breasts.

Wesley: Hey, those are great!

Data: Captain, I am afraid I was unsuccessful in doing things really fast. The Crystalline Entity is about to . . . shine bright lights at us or something.

Picard: (grimly) Damn.

LaForge: Fuck me with a vault pole!

Picard: The Entity must not be allowed to take this ship. (Tense pause. Riker is glancing nervously at the mangled trombone.) I have to activate the self-destruct sequence.

(Everyone on the bridge rolls their eyes and groans, except for Worf.)

Worf: YES! All Klingons want to die! Let's die already! This will be so cool.

Riker: Sir, will this be the self-destruct sequence that requires both the captain and first officer to agree, or the one where only the captain is required to initiate it. Because if you don't need me, I could use a shave. I'm about to grow another mustache.

Worf: Uh, wait. Is this still honorable? Self-destructing? It's kind of cool on the one hand, but on the other, it's not really battle. I don't want to be a wuss. (Pause.) Whatever. This never works anyway.

LaForge: (apropos of nothing) FUCK! Man, I like swearing.

Data: The Entity has reached something cool sounding, such as imminent proximity.

Picard: Brace for impact!

Troi: Captain! I sense another presence! Something else is here!

(Q appears on the bridge and begins mincing.)

All: Q!

Q: Well, well, Pee-kard! Got yourself into a bit of a folderol, haven't you? Hmm? A fooforaw? Fiddlesticks!

(Q minces some more.)

Picard: Q! Is this your doing?

Q: Oh, Pee-kard. Remember when I was on Days of Our Lives?

(Q continues mincing.)

Picard: Q! Explain yourself! I don't have to take any guff from capricious omnipotent beings!

Riker: (menacingly, reaching for his dumb phaser) Q, don't make me . . .

(Q turns Riker into a banana.)

Q: He really was much more butch with the mustache.

Picard: (pate steaming) Q! Help us for ill-defined reasons! Now!

Q: Oh, all right, you tiresome little mite. (Snaps fingers.)

Data: Captain, the Entity has vanished.

Picard: Cancel red alert.

Wesley: Uh, you never called for a . . .

Picard: Q, now that you have imperiled us, and then saved us, get off my ship.

Q: Oh, mon capitaine, we shall meet again! (He vanishes.)

LaForge: Fuck, man. I mean, hell. Hell, hell, hell. Also, damn.

Worf: Christ, I swear, I'm never going to die. (Morosely) Man, I want to die.

Data: Orders, captain?

Picard: First star on the left, Mr. Data. Straight on until morning. Engage.

(Pause as the bridge staff contemplates the majesty of space.)

Troi: Is anyone going to eat that banana?

(Fade to credits.)

Note: Comments are closed on old entries.


Skot, so why exactly are you working for a cancer research firm when you should be diligently working on a cure for bad SNL episodes?

Comment number: 001164   Posted by: Nurhan on July 16, 2003 11:26 PM from IP:

Goddamn you, I just peed.

Comment number: 001165   Posted by: stennie on July 17, 2003 12:13 AM from IP:

I only use ancient netcronyms when they truly apply. Like now (and you should see what that rolling did to our ancient carpet)

Comment number: 001166   Posted by: visitor on July 17, 2003 01:13 AM from IP:

ok, seriously, you should be writing for a comedy show. if that was a TV show, I would be watching it! your stuff is great :) keep it up!

Comment number: 001167   Posted by: eliza on July 17, 2003 03:36 AM from IP:

Wow, that was definitely worth almost getting fired for surfing the net at work. HI larious!

Comment number: 001168   Posted by: Ryan Waddell on July 17, 2003 05:38 AM from IP:

As a serious trekky .... I'm hurt :-)

Comment number: 001169   Posted by: Anna on July 17, 2003 05:52 AM from IP:

Picard: (sotto voce) How many times does this woman have to fondle my nuts? (To Crusher) Acknowledged, Doctor. You have as always been no help at all. I will contact you later so we may generate fruitless sexual tension. Picard out.

A spot-on summation of the entire relationship ... :)

Comment number: 001170   Posted by: Heather on July 17, 2003 06:27 AM from IP:

Your dialougeythium crystals rock, Skotty.

Comment number: 001171   Posted by: Chris on July 17, 2003 09:35 AM from IP:

Actually, Q was on General Hospital ...

Comment number: 001172   Posted by: Kimberly on July 17, 2003 10:31 AM from IP:

Hey they forgot to reroute power to Geordi's visor via some induction coils and Data's left ear! Oh well, perhaps it will happen in the next episode. :)

Comment number: 001173   Posted by: Greg on July 17, 2003 10:43 AM from IP:

Actually, Q was on General Hospital ...

Nuh uh! At least IMDB doesn't think so. Anyway, I have clear and hellish memories of my mom watching DOOL and seeing John DeLancie weirding around as Eugene with his kooky romantic opposite Calliope. Why? Why must I remember this?

Comment number: 001174   Posted by: Skot on July 17, 2003 11:24 AM from IP:

bwahah. I am SO forwarding this to the member of the household who actually watches Spike TV.

However, you did forget to introduce a never-before-seen Ensign Gomez for the sole purpose of providing someone expendable to kill before the end of the hour.

Comment number: 001175   Posted by: Michelle on July 17, 2003 02:18 PM from IP:

Brilliant! The spot-on satire of your writing is sheer genius, and hysterically funny, to boot. You are insanely clever and talented!

Comment number: 001176   Posted by: S on July 17, 2003 03:47 PM from IP:

waaaay back in deep time, circa '91 or 92, there was a high-larious musical down in belltown known as Star Dreck, which featured one episode each of TOS and TNG. It was similar in knowledgeable affection.

It's also endearing that this parody is being nitpicked.

"Jesus wept." That's such a brilliant cuss word. It may have to be adopted.

Comment number: 001177   Posted by: mike whybark on July 17, 2003 06:51 PM from IP:

haha, i love it.

Comment number: 001178   Posted by: pretty_paranoia on July 17, 2003 08:03 PM from IP:

waaaay back in deep time, circa '91 or 92, there was a high-larious musical down in belltown known as Star Dreck, which featured one episode each of TOS and TNG.

Hey! I know a significant majority of the actors who were in Star Drek, and have worked with the director.

Comment number: 001179   Posted by: Skot on July 17, 2003 10:04 PM from IP:

DAMMIT! I have this vivid memory of John de Lancie on General Hospital as a really creepy, evil Alan Quartermaine, but I must have been a crack baby, because I can't find mention of it anywhere and apparently I made it up.

My mom used to watch Days of Our Lives too, so maybe my brain did a switcheroo. I have no idea.

Comment number: 001183   Posted by: Kimberly on July 18, 2003 08:22 AM from IP:

Delicious Leary 'em. A play about a play. Wherefore thee?

Comment number: 001190   Posted by: George on July 18, 2003 07:59 PM from IP:

I laughed so hard I cut off the oxygen supply to my brain and had to put my head between my knees for a few minutes. Seriously. You rock the universe, dude.

Comment number: 001191   Posted by: Romy on July 20, 2003 01:24 PM from IP:

That is the funniest damn thing I have ever read. I put a link to it in my LJ. Hope you don't mind.

Comment number: 001209   Posted by: Jora on July 22, 2003 06:37 PM from IP:

BWHAAHHAHA! I hardly know Trek *at all* but I nearly choked while reading this.

Comment number: 001319   Posted by: Auntie Krizu on August 9, 2003 04:52 AM from IP:

Excuse me, I'm wheezing myself to death. I never laughed so hard.

Comment number: 001444   Posted by: Pudge on September 5, 2003 06:34 AM from IP:

ahah that's great! thanks a lot... i wish it could be made into a real screen episode... that would be even more fun! just have to add some to make it an hour, though.

excellent work, anyway i love it! =D
keep up the great work!

Comment number: 001483   Posted by: Jean-Luc on September 17, 2003 08:56 AM from IP:

Is "donde es le casa de Pepe" an obscure reference to the "Wishbone" take on the legend of Our Lady of Guadalupe? I run around saying the 'casa de Pepe' line all the time, and NOBODY EVER GETS IT (not surprisingly, but it still makes me sad). If not...where'd it come from?
Always a reader,

Comment number: 001487   Posted by: CG on September 17, 2003 06:00 PM from IP:

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