Star Trek Next Generation
Went very well this evening. This was the right length with the right balance between buildup and punch line. The revised introduction helped bring the audience in as well. As the other performers, only one other comedian with the rest being musicians. Some fine music as well.
Anyone here familiar with Star Trek Next
Generation? Anyone? Here I imagine Captain Jean Luc Picard, Lt. Commander Jordi
LaForge, and General Worf, the Klingon, appearing on this stage.
<<Star Trek Next Generation Theme Music>>
<<tele-porting sound>>
Captain’s log, star date oh five dot two nine dot
two zero oh, oh, oh damn, I forgot to take my pills.
Captain, I can see that you’re
troubled.
Jordi, how can you see anything with those stupid
goggles?
That is the whole point, Worf, I was born blind,
but these goggles let me see.
Really, well maybe they let you see too well.
Otherwise, explain why you walked head first into the simulator while Ensign
Mammaries was loading the torpedo tubes!
Actually, I was thinking through a complex
engineering problem at that time and wasn’t paying attention to where I was
going. By the way, she is not an Ensign, but a Private. Private Mammaries.
Private Mammaries? This vessel uses navy rankings. I
did not know there were any privates on this ship.
Are you telling me that in all the time you’ve
served on the Enterprise that you’ve never seen any privates?
No I have most certainly not!
Then, maybe you’re the one who should be wearing
the goggles!
Gentlemen, let’s not quarrel as we have important
work to do. We have received a desperate cry for help from this blue planet and
it is our duty to provide aid to these poor suffering people.
Captain, sensors have detected an alien ship.
Load the viagra torpedoes, Warf!
Viagra torpedoes? You mean the photon torpedoes,
don’t you?
No the viagra torpedoes, I have a date with
Counselor Troi later tonight and nothing must fail.
Yeah, must be pretty embarrassing when all systems
aren’t a go, huh Captain?
Well, that’s part of it, Jordi, there is also the Counselor's usual post meltdown lecture about, getting a grip on one’s inner
penis. No decorated officer should have to listen to that lecture.
Captain, I see some trouble with the methamfetamine
crystals in the laboratory bathtub. Jordi, I need a diagnosis. Jordi. Jordi.
What?
Jordi, OK now that Major Jugs has left the bridge,
could you run a diagnosis on the methamfetamine crystals?
Jeez, Worf, you’re always barking out these orders:
diagnosis this, diagnose that! Is that why they call you Worf because you bark out so many commands?
Actually, Jordi, it is short for Waldorf, but in
his younger academy days, he encountered a trio of hairy female life forms who
barked liked dogs, and basically did it to him doggie style. As they reached
climax they called out, Worf. Worf. Worf.
For the rest of his academy days, the other cadets
used to come up behind him in the mess hall calling out Worf, here, Worf, pant,
pant, pant. After a few of these incidents, Worf was relieved of his phaser.
Captain, I warned you never to tell that story.
Just watch it, or I’ll have the simulator make a rubber torpedo and shove it up
Uranus. Then we’ll see who’s calling out, Worf! I can just imagine the lecture
that Counsellor Troi will give you after that!
That’s OK, Worf, just as long as I can borrow
Jordi’s goggles.
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