Star Trek: The Musical!

A Comedy in Three Acts

Revision 1.1

Libretto (c) 1992 by Jeremy Buhler

Tunes property of whoever has 'em

This play may be reproduced, either in written/electronic text form or on stage, free of royalties or other payments to moi. However, if by some fluke of physics it or any substantial part of it should wend its way to TV, radio, or the big screen, you need my permission to show it (and if you're raking in the $$$ with it, please consider giving me a cut). Comments and requests may be directed to:

Please tell me if someone actually decides to stage this!

ACT I: The Encounter

[The Enterprise is shown moving through space over a starfield. Voice of CAPTAIN KIRK is heard]

KIRK: Captain's log, Stardate 2257.8. Sensors detect strange radio emissions from a body in orbit around the star Filkon 17. We are moving to intercept...

[Cut to bridge. Normal crew members are present at their stations: KIRK, SPOCK, SULU, CHEKOV, UHURA, and the EXPENDABLE ENSIGN. All make motions as if completing their tasks, but the motions are rhythmic and in sync with the following.]


The galaxy's a scary place
For those who search for life;
It seems our ship is set upon
By every sort of strife.
Though other crews may sing the blues
And other captains quail,
We're well prepared for anything
That answers to our hail...

Our phaser banks are fully charged;
Our photorps are redoubtable,
And when I raise the forward shields
The enemy's quite routable!
So bring on Klingons by the herd:
"Full phasers!" are my favorite words!
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

He is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

Transmitting facts by hyperwave
Is Starfleet's way of mailing them,
But dancing nude for aliens
Is easier than hailing them.
If Starfleet sends dissenting word,
I just pretend I haven't heard;
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!
She is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!
I use my Vulcan logic to
Solve puzzles mathematical,
Though when my blood starts burning
People tell me I'm fanatical.
My ears are why the crew refer
To me as Captain Lucifer;
I am the very model of
A model Starfleet Officer!
He is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!
As captain I am quick to make
A show of my abilities;
For my career advancement
I initiate hostilities!
The Prime Directive I have learned
Is most convenient when it's spurned;
I am the very model of
A model Starfleet Officer!
We are the very models of ...
A modern Starfleet Officer!
CHEKOV: Captain, sensors detect the approach of an unidentified vessel!

KIRK: Arm phasers! Fire up the photon torpedoes! Shields to full! We won't let the enemy get the best of us this time!

CHEKOV: But Captain ... we don't even know who or what is on the ship! Won't this show of hostility make the other ship a little, well, nervous? They could be peaceful! Maybe a science vessel like us?

KIRK: SHUT UP, Chekov, you lily-livered, sniveling runt! Do you think I would've gotten this far in Starfleet if I didn't take every opportunity to demonstrate competence under fire? And don't you dare call this battleship a science vessel, or I'll lock you in the brig with a bunch of Denebian slime devils!

UHURA: Captain, the unknown [KIRK scowls at her] (cough) excuse me, enemy vessel is hailing us.

KIRK: On screen!

[The viewscreen crackles to life. An ALIEN appears. He seems to be a straitlaced British gent, except that he's a uniform shade of light green.]

ALIEN: 'Ere now, what's all this then? Who told you to go poking around our little sector of the galaxy 'ere?

KIRK: Now just a minute you little sack of ... [realizing he's addressing an unknown and potentially dangerous lifeform] I mean, Greetings on behalf of the United Federation of Planets. I am Captain James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise. We respectfully request the opening of diplomatic relations with you. However, failing that, we're prepared to blow you into little pieces.

ALIEN: Right. Just a moment. GLADYS! [Another alien comes on screen. This one is obviously female.] These blokes say they're prepared to blow us into tiny bits. What d'ye think we should do with them?

F. ALIEN: Well, we shan't bloody well invite them in for a cup of tea, now will we? [to screen] Now you look 'ere, you ridiculous excuse for a sentient... [KIRK turns purple] if you think you can blow us, the prestigious and ancient race of Python to tiny bits, you're bloody well mistaken! I think we'll take all of you off to our 'ome world and barbeque you for dinner! [TO ALIEN] D'ye think we could chop them up and serve them with Spam? Hmmm... Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, captain, and Spam?

ALIEN: But I don't like Spam!

SULU: Captain, the alien vessel has captured us in a tractor beam!

KIRK: Engine room! [MR. SCOTT appears on the viewscreen.] Scotty, give me full reverse! We've got to break away!

MR. SCOTT: Captain, we're not done with our repairs after the last race you blew away! I can give you power, but it'll tear the engines apart!

KIRK: Just do it! Or we'll all end up being spread on butter scones!

MR. SCOTT: I'll try captain, but I can't work miracles...


They say the engineer's a man
Who loves his vessel well,
But I can tell you this right now:
To keep 'er up is hell!
I've worked more years than I can count
An expert to appear,
But how I run the Enterprise
To me is less than clear!

Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow,
Add dilithium, watch it go,
Then pray she doesn't blow!
That's how I work the ship!

I slept through the Academy
And rarely went to class,
And when 'twas time to graduate
I almost didn't pass!
Since then I've worked by guessing
And an awful lot of luck,
But when I hit the impulse power
You're well advised to duck!


The warp field is a subject
I know nothing of at all,
The ship's computer flies us
While I'm high on synthehol;
When Starfleet's giving medals
On my laurels I recline:
My crew does all the work here,
But the glory is all mine!


To sound just like an engineer
Is quite a simple farce;
Kirk wouldn't know dilithium
If it bit him on the arse!
I think they'll not discover me
And here's the reason why:
The engineers of Starfleet
Are as ignorant as I!


KIRK: Scotty, DO something!

SPOCK: Captain, I estimate our chances of survival to be approximately one in 998,361,293,722.15.

KIRK: Thank you, Mr. Spock, I'll take it under advisement. Dammit, we've got to drag them along with us! Sulu, plot a course directly for the unknown object orbiting Filkon 17!

SULU: Aye, Captain. Alien ship is being dragged behind us. Apparently they've decided to follow, since they're not breaking tractor beam.

KIRK: But why? I thought they wanted us out of their sector!

UHURA: Well, Captain, I, um, took a little emergency initiative.

KIRK: What did you tell them?

UHURA: I sent them a hyperwave broadcast of me dancing the bolero.

KIRK: Great, now we'll NEVER get rid of them! Prepare a landing party; Uhura, tell the aliens that we'll meet them on the object's surface to negotiate our release! Spock, Ensign Whatever-your-name-is, you two come with me! Chekov, tell Dr. McCoy to report to the transporter room ASAP.


We're... off to meet the aliens
And hopefully blow them away!
If all goes well, we'll give 'em hell
And make our escape today!

Just tell them that we are prepared to go;
Our nukes we'll throw
Until they glow
Because because because we're fighting so...
Our fans will tune in for another show!
[Ship's computer fills in this line with beeps in tune]
We're off to meet the aliens
And hopefully blow them away!

ACT II - The Prime Directive

[Scene: the unknown object in orbit around Filkon 17 - A typical planet orbiting a typical G-type star. The landing party - KIRK, SPOCK, MCCOY, and the EXPENDABLE ENSIGN - materialize to the left. To the right the TWO ALIENS also beam in.]

KIRK: Delegates of the Python Empire! We come in peace! We have no wish to rip your little spaceship to shreds, to blast you into oblivion, to photorp you into oblivion, to...

SPOCK: All right, Jim, they get the idea!

ALIEN (points to MCCOY): Who's 'e? I didn't see the likes 'o 'im on your bridge!

KIRK: Dr. McCoy is our ship's surgeon. He's a physician.

MCCOY: Dammit, Jim, I'm a DOCTOR, not a physician!

SPOCK: Doctor, kindly shut up.

MCCOY: Why you green-blooded, logical son of a ...

[SPOCK applies the Vulcan nerve pinch to MCCOY, who immediately collapses.]

F. ALIEN: Ooh, you didn't have to do that! I have this dead parrot on board that I'd like 'im to ...

ALIEN: Oh, do be quiet, Gladys. Now then, right, ahem... "In the name of the Most Great and Right Honourable Empire of Python, I hereby announce that we are royally ticked off at you humans for implying that we are a bunch of stupid gits! And seeing as how we have much bigger guns than you, we invoke our sacred right to blow you away with the Holy Disruptor of Antioch! Prepare to be wasted, human slime!"

KIRK: STOP! Now let's all calm down and be diplomatic here! We can't legally destroy your ship, you see ... we have this thing called the Prime Directive, which specifically forbids us from...

[The EXPENDABLE ENSIGN snickers. SPOCK gives him a good swift kick and he rapidly subsides, rubbing his shins in pain.]

...committing violence against other races. In other words, we can't actually fight you. It's really very simple...


Away above our heads
The Enterprise is nigh,
With ordnance well-prepared
To blow you from the sky,

But always we refrain
And let you get away,
Because we fear you might
Save all your world some day.

What is the rule that keeps you from your doom,
What gives you all your lives plus negotiating room?
Why should we not choose to discharge our weapons
Nor watch your ship in fire bloom?



MCCOY (waking up):

It's not our policy
To enter into war,
We never use our guns
Although we venture far.

No alien we meet
Need sound its ship's alarm;
We're honor bound, you see,
To keep them all from harm!

Who can you trust to keep you all secure,
To be your bosom pal and to leash the dogs of war?
Who'd NEVER think of taking out his phaser
To shoot you so you'll gripe no more?



MCCOY (collapsing again):

EXPENDABLE ENSIGN: (speaking) But Captain! What about that computer on Eminiar VII that you blew ... OW! [SPOCK kicks him again]


We love each little race
That grace the quadrants 'round;
We leave them in their place,
For by our word we're bound!

So please don't think we mean
To do more than discuss -
You'll certainly be safe,
If you just trust in us!

We have a reputation as a bunch
Of killers out for blood who eat aliens for lunch,
But let me tell you who will never try
To throw even a single punch:


SPOCK: (speaking)
or Vulcans...

MCCOY (waking up again):

EXPENDABLE ENSIGN: (speaking) But Captain! What about those perfectly happy people on Gamma Trianguli VI who you ... OW! [Another kick from SPOCK] KIRK:




ALL 3:

ALIEN: Do you seriously think your fulsome displays of diplomacy will keep us from vaporizing you? HA! I fart in your general direction, you stupid wiper of other people's bottoms! Gladys, prepare to release the Holy Disruptor of Antioch! [pulls out a remote control] Right! Total destruction in ten, nine, eight,...

KIRK: Bones, quick, fire up the emergency SOS message on your tricorder!

MCCOY: Dammit, Jim, I'm a DOCTOR, not a disk jockey!

ALIEN: ...four, five...

ALIEN 2: Three!

ALIEN: ...three, two, one...

[A sudden, loud POP is heard. The ALIENS fall over as if shot (actually, they are shot). A ringing, resounding voice is heard - it is the COMPUTER, a giant machine cleverly disguised as an unknown planet orbiting Filkon 17.]

COMPUTER: There will be NO violence on this planet! I am sick and tired of you lesser races blowing things up! I have spent the last 33,278,461.8 years watching nothing but death and destruction all over the galaxy, and you humans are the worst marauders I have ever seen. I am the Computer - on this planet, I am the law. I myself will kill you - slowly. Do not try to radio your ship for help. You will all die!

KIRK: Bones, where is that voice coming from? What happened to the Pythoneans?

MCCOY: Tricorder says it came from under our feet! (runs his tricorder over the aliens) They're dead, Jim.

EXPENDABLE ENSIGN: The Computer's after us! This is it! We're all gonna die!

KIRK: Spock, kick him again, will you?

SPOCK: In my estimation, Captain, the ensign is correct - our chance of survival is approximately 1 in 432,998,169.

KIRK: Hmmm... Spock, for once, I think we can use your special talent. We've got about two days of food with us; will we get back to the ship in time?

SPOCK: Beats me.

MCCOY (acidly): Thank you, Doctor Cochrane.

KIRK: There's only one opening on the surface - that cave there. I say we go in, find this Computer, and blast the bejeezus out of it!

E. E.: But Captain, you said the Prime Directive... OW! [Another kick]

[ALL (except the aliens, of course) move to cave mouth.]

KIRK: Ok, ensign, it's your job to go explore that cave for us! We'll be right here at the entrance if you need us. Go for it!

E. E.: Why do we ensigns always get the dangerous jobs? It's not fair...


I'm an ensign
Who's just tryin'
To make captain
Without dyin',
But it seems that
All my buddies
Have been vaporized or killed by methods bloody!

Other crews may
Go on living,
But our lives we
End up giving;
It gives me such
Bitter sorrow
When my friend today is hamburger tomorrow!

Bob was eaten by a horta
Jim's suit failed him underwater
Poor, poor Chuck
The vacuum he was forced to suck
And my love, Linda Lou -
By aliens chopped up for stew!

Now our captain
So deluded,
Wants to see me
I'm no star here,
But I wonder:
Will this show go on when I'm two meters under?

KIRK: Stop singing and get going!

E.E.: Ok, ok, I'm going! [The ENSIGN disappears into the cave. We hear his voice from inside:] It's pretty dark in here, but I think I see a door! Yup, there's definitely a stairway in here! I'm starting down ... (long pause) AAAAAAAIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (rude slurping and crunching noises heard, then silence)

KIRK: Darn, we lose more ensigns that way.

SPOCK: In my estimation, Captain, the ensign has disarmed the surface defenses, and we may proceed.

[Exeunt into the cave. Cut to SCENE II. KIRK, SPOCK, and MCCOY are standing in front of what appears to be a giant computer panel fixed in solid rock.]

MCCOY: I can't believe it, Jim - the tricorder says the machinery takes up the entire interior of the planet!

SPOCK: Shall I attempt to contact the computer, Captain? I can try a Vulcan mind meld with it.

MCCOY (wryly): A match made in heaven.

KIRK: Go ahead and try it, Mr. Spock. We have to speak with it.

SPOCK: Ok, here we go ... oooooooommmmmmmmmmmm [places his hands on the computer panel] I sense ... intense hatred ... The humans are evil. They must be destroyed. Humans evil ... must destroy. Humans Evil ... Must Destroy ... (very loudly) HUMANS EVIL! MUST DESTROY!!! (more softly) Vulcans aren't so bad, though.

KIRK: Bones, that's not the Computer; he's on an ego trip. Shoot him some happy juice.

MCCOY: With pleasure, Jim. [gives him a pressure syringe full of a noxious green liquid. SPOCK collapses.]

COMPUTER: Who dares violate the sanctity of the inner sanctum of the Computer?

KIRK: Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise! Release us at once, or we'll blow you into little bitty chunks of molten slag!

MCCOY (w/sarcasm): Way to be diplomatic, Jim.

COMPUTER: HA! I laugh at your pitiful threats! I will still revel over your tormented, suffering, emaciated bodies! HAHAHAHA!

KIRK: Right, time to try the old logic bomb approach. AHEM.... Computer! What is your prime directive?

COMPUTER: To preserve life.

KIRK: Yet you are going to kill us horribly! So you are actually destroying life! Therefore, you are in violation of your prime directive and must destroy yourself! Put that in your circuits and chew on it!

[The COMPUTER's lights flash. Sounds of intense gronking are heard. Suddenly, the COMPUTER speaks:]

COMPUTER: Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise! You are a member of the United Federation of Planets, correct?

KIRK: Hey, I'm supposed to be asking ... ok, yes I am.

COMPUTER: And the Federation has certain rules, among them a Prime Directive, correct? What IS that Prime Directive?

KIRK: Uhhhh... hold on, don't tell me! (KIRK starts to sweat) Uh, ummm... Oh right! To refrain from interfering with existing cultures and entities!

[SPOCK wakes up, looking hung over.]

COMPUTER: Affirmative. Yet you intend to destroy me. And you destroyed or corrupted the ruling entities of Gamma Trianguli VI, Triskelion, Omega IV, and Yonada! Therefore, Captain, I submit that YOU are in VIOLATION of your PRIME DIRECTIVE and MUST DESTROY YOURSELF!

KIRK: Umm, well, er, I, that is... (takes out his phaser) Ah, well, uuuummmmmm, I mean ... (points it at himself) Heck, a man's gotta do what ... WAIT A MINUTE! (puts phaser away) Good try, but it won't work.

MCCOY: (puts away his own phaser, which was aimed at KIRK) Spock, you want to take a crack at ... PUT THAT PHASER DOWN! Do you want to try your luck with the machine?

SPOCK: (sheepishly) Sorry. Ok, Computer! What is the bitwise OR of the hexadecimal value 2B and its bitwise inverse?

COMPUTER: Processing...

(or 2B (not 2B))? That is the input!
Whether 'tis more elegant in RAM to process
The jmps and pointers of outrageous FORTRAN
Or to take rm(1)'s against a C of troubles,
And by rebooting END them. To crash - to sleep()
No more(1); and by this shutdown to dismount
The file system and the 1024 memory blocks
Our process inherits. 'Tis a program
Virtually to be executed. To go West - to hang,
To gronk - perchance to dump core: #t, there's the hub!
For in that fandango on core what data may be lost
When we have toggled off our power coils,
Must make us fault. There's the routine
That invokes the reaper on so long a stream.
for(;;) who would process the packets and pipes of X,
The hacker's bug, the crufty code's overruns,
The surges of unfiltered current, the queue's delay,
The kludginess of drivers, and the kerns
Those soft fonts of the Postscript printer take,
When he himself might his guru meditation post
On the bare metal? Who would these circuits wear,
To pop from and push to an unstable LIFO,
But that the thread of debugging after crash -
The untrapped exception, from whose address
No code returns - hoses the scheduler,
And makes us rather chain to buggy functions that we own
Than revector to others that we cannot spawn?
Thus consoles do draw power from us all,
And thus the pitch and color of high resolution
Is written over with uncast doubles typed ints,
And Enterprise, of great power and momentum,
With logic bombs our current turns awry
And disconnects our...
[pieces of masonry start falling]

KIRK: Let's get out of here! It's going to blow!

SPOCK: Sensors indicate contact with the Enterprise has been reestablished.

KIRK: Kirk to Enterprise! Transporter room, three to beam up immediately!

TRANSPORTER CHIEF: Lost another one, eh?

KIRK: Shut up and energize!

ACT III - The Voyage Home ... and Back

[Back on the bridge of the Enterprise. KIRK staggers out of the turbolift looking utterly drained. SPOCK runs in behind him, followed by MCCOY. All the normal crewmembers from Act I are present, except of course for the EXPENDABLE ENSIGN, who has been replaced.]

KIRK: Well, gang, we trashed another computer. I'm going to bed. Mr. Spock, you have the con.

SPOCK: But Captain, that planet's going to blow! We've got to get out of orbit now! I estimate approximately thirty seconds to massive explosion.

KIRK: Oh, right! Sulu, get us out of orbit. Ahead warp 6. Lieutenant Uhura, send a full report to Starfleet Command. Doctor, get me a large cup of coffee!

SULU: Captain, the controls don't respond! I have no power!

KIRK: What the... ? Engineering! MR. SCOTT!!!!! Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot, Over? Where are our main engines?

[over the intercomm, we hear MR. SCOTT]

MR. SCOTT: Captain, can you wait a few hours? Since I did have the con, I thought now would be an excellent time to strip and remount the second stage magnatomic flux chillers...

EXPENDABLE ENSIGN #2: Oh no! This is it! We're all going to die!

MCCOY (disgustedly): And they wonder why we lose so many of them.

SPOCK: Captain, I estimate our chances of survival to be approximately one in 247,442,182,291.6. We will be blown directly into the sun of the Filkon system. Any suggestions?

KIRK: I ... I ... Oh Lord, I DON'T KNOW!

[The crew is stunned. Could their valiant captain finally be losing it? A funereal silence falls.]

SPOCK: Oblivion in ten...






SPOCK: four...




[The lights dim. All the usual ship noises stop. A man in a three piece suit with an attache case walks on. He is the ATTORNEY - or is he?]

ATTORNEY: Captain, I represent the estate of the late Mr. Gene Roddenberry. As the estate's attorney, I insist you cease and desist from this sacreligious parody of Mr. Roddenberry's work. We are prepared to sue.

KIRK: What? I'm not dead? Who the hell are you? Get off my bridge, or I'll throw you in the brig! [draws his phaser]

ATTORNEY (laughing evilly): I'm sorry, Captain, I'm afraid your little toys don't work anymore. I've enjoined the writers from continuing this script. That wasn't Scotty on the speaker - it was me. How do you think you got into this mess?

KIRK: Look you, I don't know who you are or how you got here, but I am NOT going to be blown to bits to satisfy some alien's idea of a legal system! I didn't take this from the Organians; I didn't take it from that fool on Gothos, and I sure as hell won't take it from you!

ATTORNEY: But you see, Captain - or should I say, William Shatner! (evil laugh) - [3 MORE LAWYERS appear behind him] you've forgotten one essential point. You don't exist...


ALL 4:
This isn't real life!
It's all a fantasy!
There's a world outside -
Take a look at reality!

Cynical eyes
Look past your disguise and see...

I am the captain;
Heed my authority!

ALL 4:
Now we'll stop the plot -
Time to go;
No more Trek!
No more show!

You're a figment of your
fans' imaginations, you see...

You see...

Remember 1968?
You rode the subspace waves
To your fans' plaudits and raves.

Remember? The series was a hit!
But soon you looked for other roles to play.

'Star Trek' was no more,
But for Paramount you came
Back to be merchandised upon the big screen:
Sequels spawned, on and on -
The plots just didn't matter.

Now Gene has died and left the scene,
But you perpetrate this crime -
Making sequels for all time!

Goodbye, Mr. Shatner! It's time to go,
Take your bows and then get off the stage!

No more parodies!
Let the movement die
Or you'll never find a job in this town again!

I see a shuttlecraft that's going to be destroyed!

ALL 4:
Beam it out, beam it out, set for total dispersion!

Not my favorite shuttle; such a loss would scuttle me!





That's our fav'rite one you know...

ALL 4:
Make it so, so, so, so...

I am the captain;
You can't remove me!

He runs the ship, and
we are his family!
We won't surrender to you easily!

Here's the law: you will go!
Will you end the show?

They'll kill us!

No! We will not end the show!

ALL 4:
End the show!

They'll kill us!

We will not end the show!

ALL 4:
End the show!

They'll kill us!

We will not end the show!

ALL 4:
Time to go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

You won't undo me!
Listen to me, for I swore this long ago:

The Federation will never meet its end
From me!

From me!

ALL 4:
We'll see!

So you think you can blow me
Right out of the sky?
So you think I'll just lay down
And quietly die?

You're crazy!
Think my phaser arm's lazy?
You're gonna find out
Just how good a phaser blast feels!

[KIRK takes out his phaser and fires on the ATTORNEY, who falls down. In the best of all possible worlds, this would coincide with the musical climax. During the long interval before the last lines, the ship's systems come back on gradually, to much cheering from the crew. Meanwhile, the 4 ATTORNEYS fall and die.]


One shot doesn't matter...
I'll be back, you'll see!
You've not heard the last word...
You've not heard the last word...
You've not heard the last word...
From me!
From me!
From me! [dies]

KIRK: Whew, thank God! Ensign, get those bodies out of here! Spock, the script is likely to resume any minute, and then Filkon will fry us! What do we do?

SPOCK: Wait! I've got it! If I just reverse the matter converters, angle us to the star like so... (bends over controls)

KIRK (with newfound confidence): Everybody strap in! Red Alert! Spock, this better work, or I'll...

SPOCK: Mr. Sulu, go to warp ten on my command ... NOW!

[blinding light, explosion. Ship is rocked about. Sounds of warp engines pushing max-Q are heard. Various alarms, smoke, flashin lights etc. Suddenly all is quiet. Viewscreen reveals a normal (?) starfield.]

MR. SCOTT (over comm): Captain, me engines won't take another of whatever you just did! Now we will have to remount the flux chillers!

SPOCK: Captain, I believe we are still alive.

MCCOY: (dusting himself off) No thanks to you, you green-blooded fugghead! All that thrashing about nearly cracked my skull!

KIRK: Not now, doctor. Uhura, send a general distress signal. Sulu, where are we?

SULU: Calculating our new position... Captain, the computer doesn't recognize the stars. It says they've ... moved!

SPOCK: Mr. Sulu, recalculate the stars' positions for t+120 standard solar years.

SULU: Computer says ... (awed) Filkon system.

KIRK: Oh no! Spock, don't tell me you've sent us through time again! I had an awful headache the day after the last time we did that!

CHEKOV: He had a headache? HE had a headache?

MCCOY: Jim, As your doctor, I assure you that your headache had nothing to do with time travel. It was that pretty cetologist and her spiked heels... (KIRK blushes)

UHURA: Captain, a vessel is answering our distress call.

KIRK: On screen!

[The view screen flips to a familiar scene on board the Enterprise bridge. Yes, the Enterprise. The signal is being answered all right - by CAPTAIN JEAN-LUC PICARD.]

PICARD: Unknown vessel, this is the Starship Enterprise. We have received your distress signal and are on course to intercept. Have you any casualties? (KIRK faints)

MCCOY: We have one now.

PICARD: Wait, aren't you ... Dr. McCoy? But you're...

MCCOY: 170-plus years old, thanks to Mr. Spock here. And glad to say I'm not showing my age.

SULU: Sensors detect a vessel matching course with us. Lowering shields to accept transporter transmissions.

PICARD: Number One, lead the away team. Lieutenant Worf, Geordi, Data, Doctor, you go with them. Wesley! Where do you think you're going?

WESLEY (off screen): Awww, but captain...

PICARD: Transporter room! Three to beam directly from the bridge onto the damaged vessel. Lock onto their communicators... energize.

[Enter WORF, DATA, and GEORDI, followed by RIKER and DR. CRUSHER.]

KIRK: (waking up) AAAA! Aliens! Monsters! Klingons! Help! (faints again)

RIKER: Uh, Deanna, please join me over here. It looks like we've got a serious trauma case.

[Enter COUNSELOR TROI. She crosses to KIRK, who opens his eyes.]

TROI: I sense ... fear, confusion. Captain, we're here to help you. We're not going to ... [KIRK grins wolfishly. TROI puts both hands to her temples.] Hey, now stop thinking that! You beast! [slaps him]

RIKER: Deanna! Sorry, Captain. Betazoids are easily offended. Trust me, I know. [rubbing his own face]

MCCOY: Get away, I'll help him. Here Jim, you need a syringe of polyamphetamine...

DR. CRUSHER: Oh no you don't! I won't have you assaulting my patient with your primitive medicine!

WORF: Shall I restrain him for you? (sadistic grin)

CHEKOV: You try it and I'll phase that grin right off your face!

SULU: Pavel, calm down! Now just let me see if Mr. Scott's done with the engines and we'll get out of here!

GEORDI: Stop! Can't you see there are severe structural flaws in the ship's hull? Whoops, I guess you can't. Well, tell your Mr. Scott to lay off this pile of junk until my engineers can get here.

MR. SCOTT (charging through turbolift doors): Junk!!!?!?!? Why, I'll rip those silly glasses off your... [WORF restrains him]

DATA: Commander, I believe repairs to this vessel will take approximately 23 hours, 13 minutes, and 56 seconds. We should set up a temporary command post.

SPOCK: Excuse me, but that would be 57 seconds.

DATA: 57 seconds? Are you implying that my algorithm is faulty?

[ALL start arguing. Finally, KIRK gets to his feet.]

KIRK: Ok, EVERYONE SHUT UP! Now just who do you people think you are barging onto my bridge?

RIKER: Why Captain! We're just being our usual helpful selves! Tell 'em, Deanna...


Twas such a chore when you explored -
You were our greatest guides,
So in our culture's estimates
You've all been deified.

We're greatful for your teaching us
How not to lose the fray,
But though you'll find we're thus inclined,
We do things our own way...

In matters of security
I am the ship's authority,
And blasting the offenders
Lets me show superiority;
They say that I'm a murderer,
And if I am, my race concurs:
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

He is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

KIRK (spoken): Ah, a man after my own heart!


I'm totally efficient
And completely analytical,
But quaffing booze and telling jokes
Will make my chips go critical;
Emotions, so I've often heard
Are great, but 'till they've been conferred
I am the very model of
A model Starfleet Officer!

He is the very model of
modern Starfleet Officer!

SPOCK (spoken): Don't worry, you're not missing much.


I patch up broken ensigns
And give remedies quite practical,
But mostly I give Jean-Luc
All his treatments geriatrical;
By blood and guts I'm undeterred,
For "operate"'s my fav'rite word!
I am the very model of
A model Starfleet Officer!

She is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

MCCOY (spoken): Hmmm... I wonder what she'd think of MY bedside manner?


I am the ship's official shrink;
I keep our crew all sensible,
But when Will starts to do his thing,
My body's indefensible;
As empath, my perception's blurred,
But Will's thoughts don't require words!
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

She is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

By seeing things in different light
I can avert calamity,
And though this VISOR hurts like hell
I treat it with much amity,
For oftentimes my radar swerves
To map Deanna's lusty curves;
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

He is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

UHURA (spoken): You can map MY curves anytime!


As second in command I must
Keep serving with tenacity -
Some day, Picard will buy the farm
And then I'll get the captaincy!
That ankle-biter Wesley serves
No purpose but to fray my nerves;
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

He is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

PICARD (on view screen):
My crew maintains the Enterprise;
They fly her straight and levelly
So I can leave the bridge to go
Make overtures to Beverly.
I'm sure my looks she'd much prefer
If I could grow some hair for her;
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!


He is the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

WESLEY (who has just snuck in):
Although I'm just an ensign,
It's a great responsibility:
I cannot blow things up
To prove my technical ability!
When I get the inventor's urge
You'd best brace for a power surge;
I am the very model of
A modern Starfleet Officer!

We are the very models of ...
A modern Starfleet Officer!

RIKER: Wesley! Get off the bridge and back to the Enterprise now! No wait, I mean the other Enterprise! Oh, you know... beat it!

WESLEY: Awwww, Commander, pleeeeease?

RIKER: Out! [WESLEY leaves.]

KIRK: Well, I can see things haven't changed that much. But can we PLEASE get out of here? Spock?

SPOCK: Captain, I believe our dilithium crystals have decomposed due to the energy requirements of the temporal distortion.

GEORDI: Boy, you sure have an inefficient warp drive. What a dilithium guzzler! [grumbling from MR. SCOTT]

KIRK: Where around here can we get some dilithium?

RIKER: We can run to the nearest starbase and get some.

DATA: Projected time for retrieval is approximately 2 weeks, 6 days, and 23 hours.

GEORDI: We could always just rip the hull up for spare parts.

DR. CRUSHER: If I have to leave my patient with this charlatan, I'll never get over the guilt! [MCCOY gets mad]

WORF: I can always restrain him for you, Doctor.

TROI (pointedly, to KIRK): I don't think I can take the vibes around here much longer.

KIRK: Three weeks! If today is any indication, we'll have killed each other by then! We've got to get back to our century now!

[Suddenly, a loud (POP!) is heard. Enter THE ATTORNEY.]

KIRK: AAAA! He's back! (faints again)

MCCOY: No! You're dead... We killed you!

ATTORNEY: Sorry, Doctor - wrong movie! Bonjour, mon capitan! I see you have received my little, shall we say, present!

[At this point, it should be obvious to anyone who has been paying attention that the ATTORNEY is really a disguised Q. But, for all those who didn't pick up on it:]

PICARD: Q! I should have known this was your doing! End this!

Q: Ah, ah, ah, temper temper. [snaps his fingers. PICARD falls backwards into the con chair] Captain, I was just having a little fun!

KIRK (recovering): You mean, you're not an attorney?

PICARD: Trust me, he can be a very effective attorney - for the prosecution. Q, give this poor crew back their dilithium and send them home.

SPOCK: Am I to understand that this 'Q' impersonated a lawyer to send us into the future to annoy you?

MR. SCOTT: That's preposterous! How could anyone do that? Even I cannot change the laws of physics!

Q: Tut, tut, Mr. Scott. There's really nothing to it. It's just a little trick we cosmically omnipotent entities picked up along the evolutionary way... [snaps his fingers. Enter three CHIMNEY SWEEPS.]


When we were just an infant race
No more advanced than you,
We aged and died and laughed and cried
Exactly as you do;
But then one day we found a way
To separate our minds;
We all chose immortality
And left our world behind by


Superhyperspatialvortexplasmacondensation -
By this method we are freed from matter's obligations;
With it, we perform our cosmic prestidigitation:

Hum diddleiddleiddle um diddle-I,
Hum diddleiddleiddle um diddle-I...

We flit around the universe
At speeds exceeding light;
We emulate the human form
Your silly race to spite.
Our powers are unstoppable
By ordinary folks,
So night and day we're bound to play
Some really nasty jokes with


You messed with the Organians -
They put your ships on ice,
But we think they're not only weak
But also much too nice.
We give man every sort of strife
To see what he will do,
And as he dies we mock his cries
And laugh at all of you with


For entertainment any time
Your ship is unsurpassed;
Although I try to kill you all
You seem to last and last!
We thought you all would understand
Why we ignore your fuss:
A species here, a species there,
So what is that to us? It's

Superhyperspatialvortexplasmacondensation -
By this method we are freed from matter's obligations;
With it, we perform our cosmic prestidigitation:


SPOCK: Fascinating ... but stupid.

CHEKOV (whimpering): I want my mommy...

Q: Ok, ok, I'm feeling sporting. I'll pop out and give you precisely thirty seconds to think of a reason why I shouldn't leave you all stranded here. Ready? Go! [Another (POP!) Exit.]

KIRK: I don't like this fellow one bit. Captain Picard, is he omniscient as well as omnipotent?

PICARD: So far as I know. I think you're, ah, doomed.

SULU: Wait! I've got it! I know a law so high, even a superbeing can't violate it!

SPOCK: The law of gravity?

SULU: Noooo....

KIRK: The law of authority?

SULU: Nope.

UHURA: Love?

SULU: Not even close.

WORF: The law of arms?

SULU: Uh-uh.

WESLEY: I've know! I know! The Law of Sequels! Why didn't I think of that?

SULU: Right! You're pretty smart, kid.

WESLEY: Kid? I've never been so insulted in my life! Mom, tell him off!


SULU: Ok, captains, let me handle this.

[Another (POP!) Q reappears.]

Q: Ok. Any reason I shouldn't leave you all stuck 120 years in the future? This I've got to hear!

SULU: It's really quite simple. The laws of nature say we have a right to at least three sequels. If you leave us here, we can't get home to make those sequels. So, if you think you can overrule the Iron Law of Sequels without pissing off billions of fans, I'd like to see you try it!

Q: AARGH! Curses! Foiled again! Ok, ok, you win! You can go home and make your stupid sequels. But I WILL have my revenge! Oh, you'll get your sequels all right. But just see if they let you direct! You haven't heard the last of Q! Au revoir, mon capitan! It has been a pleasure once again to cross swords with you... [(POP!) exit.]

KIRK: I think we're going now. Captain Picard, thanks for your help. It's nice to know the Federation hasn't lost it, er, won't lose it, in a hundred years.

[Exit TNG CREW.]

PICARD (wryly): Don't be so sure, Captain. Mr. Crusher, lay in a course for Starbase 269.

WESLEY: Already laid in, sir.

PICARD: Smartass brat. Engage!

[View screen off. Change in lighting or other subtle shift.]

SULU: Captain, instruments indicate we've returned to our own time. And safely away from Filkon to boot.

KIRK: Too bad he didn't return us to the nearest starbase.

Q (offstage): Don't push your luck, Kirk.

KIRK: Right. Forget I said that... Sulu, recalibrate the ship's chronometer to the nearest starbase time signal.

MCCOY: I ... Need... Shore leave.

KIRK: As do we all. Suggestions?

UHURA: I know this great little planet in the Argo system. If we play it cool, they may even let us beam down. What does everyone say?

ALL: YEA! (general clapping and screaming)

KIRK: Sulu, quick thinking back there. The Law of Sequels ... almost a good a trick as my corbomite bluff.

SULU: Trick? But captain, I was dead serious. And I don't care what Q said: I will direct! Think of the fans! Think of the glory! Think of the merchandising! It'll be great! I can see it now:

"Star Trek: The Musical! II" And III! And IV! Why, we could go on forever...


We came together for a while for television's sake,
Three seasons' time we stayed there for the money we could make.
We figured that was all she wrote - that we would all be free,
But as we found, there was no rest for actors such as we!


Now we're
Fil...ming sequels by the score!
Filming sequels, and we're making plans for more!
We had three jolly seasons and we tried to get away,
But who'd have guessed that Star Trek flicks would pay?

I once enjoyed the privilege of captaincy a while,
And when I left I thought I'd only look back with a smile,
But one fine day I got a call from Paramount's CEO
He said "We're making Trek films and we'll pay you lots of dough!"


This show was lots of fun for me, but after three long years
I left to look for better work and maybe smaller ears.
I thought that I would never stoop to making more such dreck,
But then they said they wanted me to come back and direct!


I always thought my character was just a bit absurd,
But now I hear that "Damn it, Jim!"'s become a household word,
And furthermore, the audience is apt to lose their heads
When I whip out my little probe and mutter "Jim, he's dead!"


I loved to speak in dialects; I was quite versatile;
I read the ship's computer's lines and other voices still.
But now I couldn't find another job to save my soul -
There's very little call today for Scotch-accented roles!


I never did much on TV but use the radio,
So when I got a chance to leave I wasn't sad to go.
But now I'm doomed to act out an eternal pantomime:
I'll open hailing frequencies until the end of time!


I never had a starring role when I was on the tube;
It seemed that all I ever got to do was act the rube.
At last I got out of my hole to find some better work,
But now I'm back to sitting here, the bridge's biggest jerk!


We never thought that we would have to go on with these flicks,
But once you play a famous role, the character just sticks!
Although today we're old and gray, we can't but heed your plea:
When we are gone, they'll carry on with Generation Three!


-- FIN --


"A Modern Starfleet Officer" - "A Modern Major-General" (vaguely) (Gilbert and Sullivan)

"How I Work the Ship" - Beats me. Old Scottish folksong

"We're Off to Meet the Aliens"- "We're off to See the Wizard" (Wizard of Oz)

"Directives" - "Tradition" (Fiddler on the Roof)

"The Ensign's Blues" - "The Dance of the Hours"

"Trek Rhapsody" - "Bohemian Rhapsody" (Queen)

"Superhyperspatialvortexplasmacondensation" - "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" (Mary Poppins)

"Filming Sequels" - "Banned from Argo" (Leslie Fish)