Star Trek, with an “R” rating
In the year 2016, Star Trek celebrated its 50th anniversary. I was, and
still am, a fan of the original series, having grown up with while among
hippies, stoners, and other counter-cultural types watching it during its
reruns in the 70's. However, I still think it's amazing how a show that lasted
barely three seasons and suffered from low ratings throughout its run would
eventually spawn multiple knock-offs in the form of numerous TV shows and
movies, a language (Klingonese), and what in many ways could be interpreted as
a religion and a way of life. Oh yeah, and let's not forget BILLIONS of dollars
in revenue.
One cannot deny the cultural impact of Star Trek. In addition to providing
social commentary in numerous episodes, countless engineers and technicians were
inspired to become engineers and technicians by watching the show. Unlike most
science fiction, it is a model of an ideal, non-dystopian future, where
humanity evidently solved all of its chronic and myriad socio-economic
problems, at least to the point to where they can venture out into the far
reaches of the galaxy to see how amazing, strange, and truly fucked-up other
planets are. Anyway, partially inspired by the original Saturday Night Live
parody with John Belushi in one of his finest roles as Captain Kirk, I thought
I would drag Star Trek back into the rude, crude, early 21st century to see how
these characters would play out in a more contemporary setting:
Captain's Log, Stardate 90735.836. Once again, I find myself deep in the asshole
of space, risking my ass, and the asses of 430 crewmen, because Starfleet, as-fucking-usual,
is too fucking cheap to get with the program and send out some fucking drones.
I've been doing this shit for five fucking years now; the usual assignment is
three years. Damn! Get caught for fucking ONE giraffe-colored alien bitch on
the pool table in the officer’s club, and they never fucking let you live it
down! I guess it could have been worse; at least they didn't catch me having a
threesome with the two black-and-white checkered whores while on that
diplomatic mission to the planet Chequerboord 69! Oh well. As I ponder these
thoughts and contemplate the mission that lies ahead, my two “favorite”
officers are pulling their usual shit...
Spock: Captain, I must protest Dr. McCoy's latest outrageous behavior.
Kirk: What is it NOW, Spock?
Spock: For the last week, I have been forced to use the toilet several
times a day. As you know, Vulcans rarely visit it more than once a week. I
strongly suspect that Dr. McCoy is responsible for this.
Kirk: Bones, what the fuck are you up to?
McCoy: Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a prankster! I don't know what the
fuck he's talking about.
Spock: Dr. McCoy, I performed an analysis of my latest stool sample, and it
contained trace amounts of WarpoLax-2, the most powerful laxative in the known
universe. Only you, Doctor, possess the Warpolax-2 and the knowledge and
willingness to use it.
McCoy: OK Spock, you got me! Sorry about that; it worked on Vulcans much
better than I thought it would. Can't ANYONE take a fucking joke anymore?!
Spock: Dr. McCoy, I'm going to let this one slide, but if you do something
like that ever again, I'm going to apply the Vulcan Nerve Pinch to your cock
and balls...do you understand?
Kirk: Why must I be constantly surrounded by assholes and idiots! For the ten-millionth
time, both of you dickheads KNOCK IT OFF! We have a lot of shit to do!
Spock: Aye, sir.
McCoy: OK Jim, but Mr. Green-Jeans here should have realized a
long-fucking-time ago that the ship's medical officer should be the last one in
the universe he should be fucking with. Do you know what he did last week?
Kirk: No Bones, what did he do?
McCoy: He performed a fucking mind-meld on me when I was crashed out and
sent the tape of it to my bitch of an ex-wife, that motherfucker! He needed
some payback after that, ha ha ha.
Kirk: Spock, I told you NEVER to do that again, to any-fucking-body! What
the hell is wrong with you?
Spock: Sorry Captain, I couldn't help myself. One can only take being called
a pointy-eared, pointy-browed, green-blooded, inhuman only so much. I thought
that the meld-tape would shut him up; it did, but I failed to anticipate his
use of the Warpolax. My bad.
Suddenly, the ship's alarm goes off. Sirens are blaring, all of the ship's
compartments are automatically sealed, shields go up, phasers and photon
torpedoes are armed, and red lights are flashing on and off.
Sulu: Captain! Sensors have detected an alien vessel, approaching us at
warp speed!
Kirk: No shit, Sherlock! Who the fuck do you think I am? This isn't exactly
the first time I've encountered an alien ship, you smart-ass fuck!
Uhura: Captain, Starfleet is demanding a status report!
Kirk: Tell Starfleet to go fuck themselves! I'll give them a status report
when I have some-fucking-thing to report! Assholes! Scotty, I need more power
RIGHT NOW!
Scotty: Captain, I uhhh, think I'm having uhh, trouble with the, uhhhh,
engine warps, BURRRRP, I mean warp engines....HICCUP HICCUP HICCUP.
Kirk: Scotty, are fucking faded, AGAIN?! So much for the fucking
twelve-step program! If you don't give me more power RIGHT-FUCKING-NOW, I'm
going to shove a bottle of Romulan Ale up your fucking Mc-Ass and beam that
sorry ass onto a fucking asteroid! MOVE IT, ASSHOLE!
McCoy: Nurse Chapel! Go to Engineering and zap Mr. Scott with 500cc's of
Insta-Sober-5, hurry! The Captain is PISSED!
Nurse Chapel: Shall I zap the Captain then too?
McCoy: Don't get smart with me, Nurse! Hurry!
Chekhov: Captain, we have the alien within range!
Kirk: On screen! HOLY SHIT!!! What the fuck is that?!
To be continued?
