ritualistically made from the entrails of the cook's
Homeraised Vracka trees, and whatever pasta he has.
Meanwhile, the men in red shirts were dying
as red-shirted men are wont to do
from time to time, especially when they are
juggling tribbles hopped up on aspiren while drinking
copious amounts of Romulan Ale (Mmmm... Romulan Ale).
Meanwhile, on the bridge, Uhura was telling Kirk
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"I'm receiving a distress signal from Starfleet. Apparently,
a Romulan warbird has vaporized a transport for
daring to go slower than the ackowledged speed.
What should we do?". Kirk replied "Sulu, chart
a course. This blatant disregard for speed limits
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violates the Prime Directive. Sulu, Warp 4 to
Romulus. We're going to take this fight to
those Dilithium snorting bastards." The Enterprise streaked through
space like an overcaffinated Horta through granite. Once
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in the neutral zone, the Romulans decloaked. "Fire
phasers", said Kirk. The phasers shot towards the
enemy, but missed the small thermal exhaust port
but they still blew up the warbird, so
they got their little crackerjack medals and commendations
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and played pin the tail on Captain Pike.
Pike was understandably annoyed at this, so he
beeped his light morse code: "f...u....g...
however, three letters into that he decided to
get someone to wheel him out of there.
It was time for his Klingon sponge bath.
A Klingon sponge looked like a spiked rock
and was about as comfortable as someone taking
a bat'leth and shoving it right up your
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torpedo chute, photons and all. Nontheless, Pike bore
this with stoicism, mainly due to his lack
of anything else better to do, since his
big-headed friends with the throbbing veins were
vacationing on Risa, drinking Mai Tais and flirting
with a group of Romulan dominatrixes. The leather
hammocks were somewhat uncomfortable, but their vacation was
otherwise filled with fun and many strange alien
alcoholic beverages. Meanwhile, back on the starship Enterprise
the real one, not that crazy looking one
that is full of dead tribbles. Meanwhile, Pike
was looking sad, which was usual considering that
he was basically a beeping table with a
bobbing head doll coming up out the middle
that has to be wheeled around. He beeped
the bar maid two times and was transported
back to his niche, since he was obviously
far too drunk to drive. Last time he
drank this much, he woke up in a
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