STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION The Wrath of the Tribbles Picard: Captain's Log, Stardate S

STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION The Wrath of the Tribbles Picard: Captain's Log, Stardate Some Meaningless Number. Having successfully completed our first season, we are headed for a much needed rest on the planet Playtex. I have this strange feeling that something is about to happen. Not something new and innovative, but something which has been done before, a strange sense of deja-vu. The funny thing is that I've been having this feeling so much recently. Wesley: Captain, priority transmission coming from Starfleet. Picard: Shut up, Wesley. Wesley: You're only saying that because I'm young. It's not fair! I save the Enterprise every third episode and no one treats me like an adult! Picard: Number One, take Acting Ensign Crusher out and beam him into a wall. Riker: Come along now, Wesley. Wesley: [Frightfully] It's not my fault! Maybe if the writers had a better concept of my character I wouldn't say stupid things like that. Besides, you just can't kill off crew members! Only Gene can do that! Picard: Well, I suppose you're right after all,Ensign. There are even more two-dimensional characters on the bridge. [Picard begins to eye Troi.] Riker: Captain, we can't get rid of Counselor Troi! Where would this ship be without cleavage! Picard: True. But if we did get rid of Troi, maybe you wouldn't go around smiling so much. In any case, find the writers and phaser them, Number One. Someone please put Starfleet on. I suspect they're getting a wee-bit pissed after being put on hold while we discuss who we sack next. Riker: Right away, sir. [Exits] [Off-stage: the sound of phaser fire. ] Picard: [Annoyed] Somebody please open up hailing frequencies. Everyone: Sorry, don't know how. Geordi: Sir, perhaps the communications channels will open if you stare at the ceiling. Data: Maybe it'll work if you say 'Uhura'. It always worked for Kirk. Picard: [Miffed] Damn Gene. I told them to put a Communications station on the bridge. He said, "Let Tasha do communications and security. Now she's dead, and no one knows how to work the bloody com. unit! [Looks at ceiling] I wish that the damn communication channels were open. [An image of a perturbed Starfleet admiral appears on the view screen] Admiral: Ah, Jean-Luc. I see that you've finally found out how to work our new 'Disney-Tech' interface system. Just say, "I wish.." and the controls activate. A lot simpler than those weird systems some people over the net suggested. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your shore leave between seasons has been canceled. Everyone: Aw, shucks. Admiral: You are to deliver an emergency shipment of Penta-triticalene to the colony of Bozocus Minor. Stop over at Star Base 512 to pick up supplies and extra photon torpedoes. You only have 3 stardates left to eradicate 22 Klingon Battlecruisers. Picard: Excuse me, sir? Admiral: Sorry, been playing too many games on my UNIX account. Good luck, and watch out for spies. Last time a Federation vessel did this, it was pretty messy. Admiral out. Troi: I sense... Everyone: Arrrrrgh! Picard: Not again! Troi: [Continues] Redundancy! Deadlines! A writer's strike! The return of old series plots! Picard: Let us hope that it's not as bad as that. [Commercial. Someone tries to convince you that the Toyota V-6 is not a rinky-dink car.] Picard: Mr. LaForge, reprogram the damn computer back to the way it was. LaForge: Aye, sir. [Jordi walks into the elevator doors. He then says,"I wish the #%&* doors would open!" Exits.] Picard: Mr. Data, please track down any previous incidents involving penta-triticalene. [Data pulls out a detective hat, pipe and magnifying glass] Data: Elementary, my dear Captain. Picard: Mr. Data, if you do not stop this nonsense this instant, I'm selling you to Robotech for spare parts! Data: Yes, sir. Picard: Besides, this is a job for Dixon Hill. [Picard puts on a grey 20th century hat and exits] [Switch to external view of Enterprise zipping through warp space. (We have to justify our special effects budget.)] [Bridge. Picard enters through turbo-lift] Worf: Approaching Starbase 512, Captain. Picard: Excellent. Number One, proceed with manual docking. Riker: [Gulps] Manual docking, sir? Picard: Yes, Number One. Get on with it. Riker: Helm, slow to 1/2 power. No, better make it 1/4 power. Up 2 degrees. No, no wait. Up by 1.5 degrees. No, no... [External view. Enterprise slowly impacts with Starbase] [Bridge. Everything shutters and bounces up and down (Just like the old series)] Riker: Ship docked at Starbase 512 with only minor damage, sir. Picard: [Sighs] Number One, you're in charge of the shore leave. We're only going to be around for a few hours. Riker: [Hits Communicator] Riker to Away Team... Picard: Away Team? I thought this was supposed to be shore leave. Riker: We're going to be playing the Starbase staff in Rigellian Soccer. Picard: Oh. Have fun. Don't step in number two, Number One. [Picard, Worf, and Geordi exit.] Picard: Mr. Data, you are in charge of loading the penta-triticalene. Data: Sir, what is penta-triticalene? Picard: It's a hybrid of wheat. Even Chekov knew that! [Data exits] [Switch to interior shot of Starbase 512. Data is walking along in corridor when someone steps out in front of him with dustbuster (sorry, phaser)] Data: [Surprised] Lore? Figure: Wrong, dear brother. It is I, Lech! [Shoots Data and drags him off into broom closet. Emerges wearing Data's uniform, and lecherous smile] Lech: [Pulling tribble from pocket] Soon, we shall show them who is superior, my little beauty. [Commercial. A comparison of hair-replacement techniques.] [Enterprise. Lech catches up to Troi.] Lech: Hey, babe. [Sticks out tongue and waggles it. Grabs Troi and kisses her.] Troi: Oh, Data, your cabin or mine? [Walk away, leaving a thoughtful Wesley behind.] [Picard walks by.] Wesley: Captain, I have to talk to you about Data's strange behavior. Picard: Shut up, Wesley. Wesley: Captain? Picard: Sorry. Just a reflex reaction. Please continue. Wesley: Data has been acting extremely unlike himself lately. For example, he's been swapping dirty jokes with Engineering, pinching Yeomans's tushies, and humping Counselor Troi. Picard: Hmmm. He certainly sounds lecherous. Thank-you Wesley, I'll have to keep a close watch on Mr. Data. [Picard starts to leave] Wesley: Captain, was that better? Picard: Yes, Wesley. You're not whining . That new writer we got for you is a marked improvement. [Picard exits. Wesley enters Sick Bay.] Wesley: Hi, mom. What 'cha doin'? Dr. Crusher: Hello, Wesley. I'm working on a complicated new vaccine. [Dr. Crusher reaches up and opens a cabinet. Five tons of tribbles fall on her, smothering her.] Wesley: [Aghast] Oh God, mom's dead! [Starts to cry] Why couldn't she have just kissed up to Gene like everyone else? Now she's been killed by tribbles, of all things. [Riker enters] Riker: Wesley, what's wrong? What are all these fuzzy things doing in Sick Bay? Where's your mom? Wesley: [Wailing] She's dead! She was killed when she reached up to open that cabinet and all those tribbles fell on her! Riker: Hmmm. That cabinet is right next to where we're storing the penta-triticalene. I'd better go check on the wheat. Wesley: What about my mother? Riker: Don't act like you didn't know this was coming! It was on Rec.Arts.Startrek for months! [Riker exits] [Riker goes to door of storage compartment. He tries to open door using manual controls. The door refuses to open.] Riker: Computer, open the door. Computer: Sorry, I can't do that Dave. Riker: What? Why? Computer: The door is blocked by a mass of tribbles, Dave. Riker: [Hits communicator] Riker to Bridge. [Switch to Bridge. Picard punches button on chair's control panel] Picard: Bridge. Captain Picard here. Riker: [Over intercom] Sir, the wheat has been consumed by tribbles. In addition, Dr. Crusher has been killed by a mass of falling tribbles. Picard: [Dramatically] Oh, God. Riker: Sir, I'm afraid it gets worse. Wesley's been overacting. Picard: Thank-you Number One. [Pushes button] Picard to Wesley, stop overacting and get into position to save the ship. Wesley: [Over intercom] [Stifles sob] Yes, sir. Picard: [Pushes button] Picard to Data, please report to the bridge, Mr. Data. [Switch to Auxiliary Transporter] Lech: [Hits Intercom button] Ha, Picard. You're too late. I've signalled the great space tribble which destroyed the colony of Bozocus Minor! You're all going to die! [Maniacal laughter] Ha-ha-ha-ha! [Switch to Bridge. A giant Tribble suddenly zooms into view on the monitor] Picard: Oh, Lord. [Commercial. A toothpaste attempts to show how kids love to brush with it.] Picard: [Chuckles] This is ludicrous. Lt. Worf, set phasers on "Reduce to component atoms." Worf: Yes, sir. Picard: Fire when ready, Gridley. [External view. The Enterprise shoots phasers at the tribble and it explodes dramatically.] Picard: Good shooting, Worf. Worf: Sir, Klingons are good at destroying things. Picard: Ah, yes, I see. [Switch to auxiliary transporter. Wesley enters.] Lech: [Brandishing phaser] You're too late. Now, you shall be the first to be sacrificed to the space tribble. Wesley: [Holds out centerfold from Play-Android] Hey, Data, look at this. [Lech stares at the picture and starts drooling. Lech drops phaser. Wesley pulls out a nickel-plated .44 magnum] Wesley: Go ahead, make my day. [Lech starts to dive for the phaser, but Wesley shoots him.] Wesley: That was for my mother. [Shoots him again.] That's for Lt. Yar. [Shoots again] That's for my new tough-guy image. Lech: I can't deal with this. [Dies] [Wesley blows the smoke from the barrel and twirls the gun around before holstering it. Exits.] [Switch to bridge.] Picard: Now all we have to deal with is a ship full of tribbles. Anyone care to save the day? Geordie: Captain, how about setting the computer to find all tribbles on the ship and beam them into the Holodeck. We can then transform the matter of the tribbles into penta-triticalene. Picard: Excellent idea, Lt. LaForge. Make it so. [Wesley enters] Picard: Captain's Log: Stardate another random number. After having vanquished the ship-load of tribbles, the giant space tribble, and another bogus Data, we are headed for the colony of Bozocus Minor to help the famine starved colonists. The ship is saddened by the loss of the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Beverly Crusher. I most of all, because we were supposed to have gotten romantically involved in a season or two. We still have another three minutes to fill before the credits, and I'd like to explore some new areas of the Picard character. [Suddenly there is a flash, and Q is standing on the bridge.] Picard: Oh no, not you again. Why can't you leave us alone so we can do some character development? Q: Surprise, surprise, surprise. It's not really me, but it's... [Suddenly Q transforms into Gene Roddenberry] Gene: Me. God. I'd like to talk with you about trying to explore the depths of your character. To put it bluntly, Jean-Luc, you're fired. You're fired, too Riker, Geordie, Troi. What the hell! Everybody's fired! Everybody but Wesley. Wesley, now you can whine and mope and do all those things that really piss off the Trekkers! Good luck, Capt. Wesley. [Gene vanishes in a flash of light.] Wesley: Anybody left? [Pushes communications buttons] Anybody at all still on the ship? Anyone? [Sighs] This is going to be real lonely. Not to mention boring for the fans. Gene Roddenberry must be crazy. [And so it is.] [Credits.] Fin.