I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey. It seemed a perfectly ordinary night when Brad Minors and Janet Vice, two young, normal, healthy kids, left Denver that late September evening to visit their former teacher and tutor. It's true there were dark storm clouds. Heavy, black, and pendulous storm clouds that hung in the air exactly the way that bricks don't. It's true also that the spare tire they were carrying was badly in need of some air. However, Janet had just picked up seventy-two boxes of marked-down lime Jell-O off the half-price rack at the grocery store and they weren't about to let a little thing like a storm stand in the way of a night out. It was a night out that they were going to remember for a very long time....
And so they began trudging slowly through the rain to the mysterious
hotel, eventually reaching the doorway and pressing the doorbell beside its
large, heavy door. Slowly, the door begins to open, revealing a disquieting
visage crowned with stringy blonde hair.
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The Trekkie Terror
Picture Show
Brad: |
Say! Can I have your autograph?
[Janet groans and drags him backwards slowly out of the ballroom.] |
Janet: | Let's get out of here. |
Brad: | We can't go anywhere until we get to a phone. |
Janet: | Well, I'm cold and wet and just plain bored. |
Brad: |
Nothing to worry about. I'm here and I'll see to it that
you don't stay bored for long.
[At this point they have backed up nearly to the doors of the only working hotel elevator which slide open quickly with a loud "shhhh" noise to reveal:] |
Cap N. Kirker: |
How do you do?
I see you've met my faithful cue-card holder. He's just a little miffed because, when you knocked, he thought you were his ride to Boulder. Don't get strung out by the way I look. Don't judge my ware by its tupper. I'm not much of a man when the camera's away, but when I direct, I'm one hell of a lover. [Cap N. Kirker tosses off his cape to reveal his outfit which consists of gold lingerie with a starfleet insignia.] I'm just a sweet transportee From the Enterprise transporter room. Let me show you my lines; Maybe emote a few times. You look like you're both really super. If you'd like something visual-- But not too abyssmal-- We could take in a season of T. J. Hooker. I'm just a sweet transportee From the Enterprise transporter room. Why don't you stay for the night. Or maybe...a bite. I could show you my favorite...obsession I've got a makeup man Who gives me curly brown hair and a tan And just in time for me to yell "Action!" |
[Cap N. Kirker wanders off to the elevator as Riff-Axe helps Janet and
Brad remove their coats, tossing them and Janet's bag of lime Jell-O on the
floor before herding them up to the laboratory where Kirker is having the
finishing touches put on his makeup. All of a sudden, there is a loud crash
and a pointy-eared man in a wheelchair crashes through the wall into the lab.]
Brad: | Doctor Everett Spock! |
Spock: | Brad, Janet, what are you doing here? |
Kirker: | You know perfectly well what Brad and Janet are doing here. The question is, what are you doing here? |
Spock: |
I came here to find Gene.
[Another loud rumbling ensues as the door to the deep freeze opens and a guy with saxophone walks out.] |
Gene: |
Whatever happened to Saturday night?
The eight to nine timeslot looked so right. Then they moved it and the ratings fell; And all of a sudden, it didn't feel so swell. One hour a week, bless my soul! I really loved our sponsor's role! One hour a week, bless my soul! Right across from Andy Griffith's show! [Kirker, enraged by this, starts chasing Gene around with a TV remote control as Riff-Axe enters the room, now dressed in some sort of silver lame' space creature costume.] |
Riff-Axe: |
Cap N. Kirker, it's all over,
Your directoral debut, it's a failure Your techniques aren't so good, it seems. We're returning to the Enterprise, Prepare the transporter beams! |
Cap N. Kirker: | But I don't want to go! |
Riff-Axe: | All right then, I'll kill you instead. |
Cap N. Kirker: | Wait! On second thought.... |
Spock: | That's a laser! |
Riff-Axe: |
Yes, capable of emitting a beam of 96 and 44/100 percent pure antimatter.
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Man in a British
Army Uniform: |
Cut! Cut! This is getting silly! It
started out as a perfectly reasonable story about an innocent
young couple about to be overcharged for a hotel room, but now
it's gotten silly!
[He steps out onto the stage, making elaborate 'cut!' gestures, accidentally knocking Kirker over into Brad and Janet and all three of them fall into the swimming pool which, mysteriously, has a life-size cardboard cutout of an electric company substation behind it and, stranger still, is filled with lime Jell-O.] And so, I'm stopping it right here before it goes any further and sending you all home. That's it--you heard me: go home! And if you're already at home, go to someone else's home! Cut! |
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