Sunday, December 09, 2007

The Enterprise Christmas Party

“Come on, Jon, take me to the Christmas party with you,” whined the Colonial Marine.

“No way, Hudson,” I shook my head. “Not this time.”

“Come on,” he pleaded. “I didn’t get an invitation this year.”

“You didn’t get one last year either,” I added. “You came along to guard the Queen and look at what happened. You started a fight with a bunch of Orions.”

“I was trying to protect the Queen,” he answered in all earnestness, as if the actual events and how he remembers them did mesh. “I was totally outnumbered, but I had them all until Lt. Wolf stunned me.”

“And that’s why you’re not going,” I answered. “Plus, this time I’m bringing my wife.”

“You’re bringing Patricia?” Hudson asked. “Hubba hubba in the Hubble. Ground control to Major Jon, you’re ready to dock on the Space Love Boat.”

“Yeah, OK, enough.”

“Ha ha, your circuit’s dead, is there something wrong?” Hudson continued. “Can you hear me Major Jon?”

“If you keep talking, I’m going to have to say something that will hurt your feelings.”

“Well, I’m ready.” Patricia walked into the room dressed in stunning, yet simple and hip, evening wear. “My mom’s watching the kids. We’re really only going to be gone for a half hour?”

“One of the pleasant mysteries of time travel,” I smiled back at her. “You look gorgeous. I can think of two very big reasons why I like that outfit – the color and the style.”

“Thank you,” she answered as she planted a kiss on me. “Oh, and that line wasn’t funny the last time you said it either.”

“Some day I’ll say something that’ll charm the pants off you,” I promised. “But for now, let’s get in the Danger Sled and head back… to the future.”

“Is he always like this?” Patricia asked Hudson.

“Constantly,” he rolled his eyes.

My wife and I rocketed into warp and fired through time towards the Enterprise Christmas party. The trip was uneventful (as warping through space and time typically is), but my wife, who is unaccustomed to such journeys was very impressed.

“Oooh, the colors,” she said as she looked out the window. “I haven’t seen anything like this since college.”

I chuckled at her comment as we dropped out of warp and aimed for the shuttle bay of the starship. After the ramp of the Danger Sled clanged to the deck, we exited my space plane and were immediately met by the scowling face of Lt. Worf.

“Welcome to the Enterprise,” the security chief growled. “Please follow me to the party but I must warn you about getting into any altercations like last year. Don’t do it.”

“Altercations?” Patricia looked at me. “You were in an altercation?”

“Hudson,” I explained.

“Oh,” she nodded understandingly.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” I said. “I left the troublemaker behind. I give you my word as an Intergalactic Gladiator that I will not cause any trouble on board your ship.”

Worf seemed unconvinced.

“Don’t worry,” my wife said. “If he causes any trouble, he’ll have to answer to me.”

“Very well,” the Klingon cracked a slight grin as he ushered us into the holodeck. “Enjoy the festivities.”

Patricia’s jaw dropped as she looked around the place.

“Wow, it looks just like a casino in here,” she said. “And this is all holographs?”


“How do people keep from bumping into each other if the room isn’t as big as it looks?”

“I have no idea,” I said. Then something caught my eye. It appeared to be a brain floating in a jar of some kind of liquid. Lt. Commander Data was standing next to it and seemed to be talking to it as well.

A woman dressed like a 20’s-style gangster with a slightly bored look on her face was standing next to the two.

“Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, nice to meet you,” Commander Riker pumped my hand excitedly. “And who is the good looking mol you got here?”

“Commander Riker, this is my wife Patricia. Patricia, this is Commander Riker.”

They shook hands and exchanged greetings before Riker turned back to me. “Jon, I have to warn you. Have a good time, but don’t start anything with any of the other guests.”

“It’s OK,” I explained. “I left Hudson at home.”

“Oh, OK,” Riker grinned. “By all means, enjoy the party.”

“One thing,” I said. “Can you tell me what that brain in a jar is over there? Is it some kind of Klingon war trophy or something?”

“Not quite,” Riker laughed. “That brain is Dr. Nemonok. He’s from your time and is apparently the galaxy’s greatest psychiatrist. Or was, I’m not sure. The woman with him is related to of one of our crew members.”

“Distant relative, I bet,” I laughed back. Something’s not right here. “Why are they looking at me like that? At least she is, I can’t quite tell what that brain’s doing.”

“Jon, don’t start anything,” Patricia warned. “We haven’t even had a chance to dance yet.”

“Hey don’t worry,” I gave her my best roguish grin. “I won’t. It’s Christmas.”

I strapped on my friendliest smile as I walked towards the unusual duo. If I could make a guess, I would say that the brain was agitated about something. They appeared to be conversing and the woman was talking to him quietly through her teeth.

“Hi, I’m Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator,” I said as amiably as possible. “I noticed you two from over there. Do I know you?”

“Please, I am sure that you know of me,” the brain replied with just a hint of disdain. “I am Dr. Nemonok.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” I shook my head. Then the significance of his name dawned on me. “Normally, I don’t forget a face. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken, of course,” he replied. Wow, if a brain could sneer I’d be looking at it right now. “I am sure we never met before, but as your reputation precedes you, I was certain that mine preceded me.”

“Right,” I said. He’s definitely with Galactor the Evil Galactic Overlord. I have to play this cool, though. “Oh yeah sure, I know you. You’re a psychiatrist, right? Didn’t you lose your license?”

“Yes of course. It was taken away from me,” Nemonok replied, endeavoring to contain his tension. “You know how these government bodies are. All red tape, heh heh.”

“Tell me about it,” I chuckled back as disarmingly as possible. “Hey, you’re on that Who Wants to be a Supervillain show too, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am on that show,” he answered cautiously.

“Ha ha, I love that show! You guys are too much,” I laughed. “Well, I have to get going, if I don’t dance with my wife, she’ll skin me alive.”

I turned my back to them and quickly walked back to my wife. What are they doing here? It couldn’t be just pure chance that I’m here along with one of the cronies of the galaxy’s greatest villain. Could it be a coincidence? Does evil take Christmas off? I’ll have to keep an eye out if they’re planning something.

“What was it?” Patricia asked me.

“Nothing,” I replied as music started playing. “Hey it’s the Charleston. Let’s dance.”

Star in Your Own JibJab! It's Free!


Freida Bee said...

What's in YOUR cosmic curriculum? We are officially either blog friends or blog enemies now, because I just meme'd you for the first time.

Given my love for The Next Generation, I hope it's friends. I promise more poems of presidential underpantsery in the near future and a link when I do a jib jab video.

Jean-Luc Picard said...

A great entry there!

Dr. Zaius said...

"Hubba hubba in the Hubble. Ground control to Major Jon, you’re ready to dock on the Space Love Boat."

I am guessing that Hudson is still living in his mother's garage, am I right?

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