[SKRIVA] Novelljulhälsning

En jul & nyårshälsning i novellform. Läs och njut (eller hoppa över). På 
engelska, då samma text även sänds till en del utländska listor. --AE

Space, a black darkness with white dots. These are the voyages of the starship 
Rent-at-a-Price. It's continuing mission to explore strange new plots, to seek 
out new technobabble and latex faces. To baldly go where no hair has gone 
before.

ADVENTURE IN SPACE

Captains blog: Stardate 12345.6. The Rent-at-a-Price has been assigned to the 
Circular Quadrant where we are to investigate a strange surge of 
Gamma-Beta-Cranberry radiation. Starfleet's database contains strange 
references to the mythical planet Northpolia...

”Captain, Merry Chrismas!”
  James T Smirk looked at his first officer, the Pseudo-Science Officer Smock.
  ”I didn't know you celebrated Christmas on the planet Vulgar, Mr Smock.”
  ”We don't, Sir. But you are an Earthling, and you celebrate Christmas. And 
since I happened to notice it is Christmas, it was only logical to utter those 
words. On Vulgar we celebrate something called Rokokorumpa, a very ancient and 
logical ceremony. It will take place in a few minutes. And...”
  ”Mr Smock, explain!”
  ”Captain, as you know we are travelling at an absolutely mindboggingly 
unbelieveable speed. According to Einstein's theory of relativity as well as 
the Vulgar scientist Julgransfot's theory of absolutivity, our time moves much 
slower onboard USS Rent-at-a-Price. This logically means that we will
have your Earth Christmas approximately once a day, shortly followed by 
Rokokorumpa. Happy New Year, by the way, captain! According to the Earth 
timeframe, it's New Years Eve now.”
  As Mr Smock had said that, he suddently
jumped across the room. stood erect humming for himself, while he slowly raised 
is left arm to touch his ear, making the right arm describe a figure of eight. 
He then started to rock back and forth, which slowly turned into jogging on the 
spot.
  It all ended with Mr Smock solemly reciting ancient Vulgar words sounding 
like ”magsjuka djur anar aldrig aktiekursens beroende av bollhav”.
  ”I'm sorry, Captain”, Smock said as he had finished. ”But I had to go through 
the ceremonial of Rokokorumpa. Wait till we come to the Vulgar Holy Day of 
Frufridagen.”
  ”That was very impressive, Mr Smock. Almost as impressive as I am when 
overacting trying to appear mad.”
  ”Thank you, Captain.”
  Suddently the ship shook as if hit by photon torpedoes. Captain Smirk rocked 
in his armchair, and half a
second later Mr Smock rocked to in another direction.
  ”We shake as if hit by photon torpedoes,” Kirk exclaimed. ”Shields up!”
  ”It is no danger,” Smock said in a steady logical voice. ”It is only photon 
torpedoes. 400 years ago you primitive and illogical people of Earth knew 
perfectly well how to build Nuclear weapons, which an explosive force tens of 
thousands
of times these measly photon torpedoes.”
  ”It's the Romulans. Now they are looading their phaser banks.”
  ”No danger, Sir. The banks are over-extending themselves and no longer 
functional. In fact, the banks have been taken over by the government.”
  ”So, in fact, Mr Smock. The Romulans have no effective weapons. That may be 
the reason why they always
attack us at a distance of less than 500 metres, when we have sensors covering 
tens of lightyears, and cover huge distances in a fraction of a nanosecond.”
  ”Our weapons are operational. Even if we are on a peacful mission, we never 
miss an opportunity for a little target shooting. Shall we slaughter the 
Romulans? Make
mincemeat out of them? Give them a fate worse than having to see the last Star 
Wars films?”
  ”No, Mr Smock. Just leave a message on their answering machine and we'll be 
on our way. We have a mission, remember.”
  From the blank screen came a monotonous voice:
  ”This is the evil Romulan Empire's Answering Machine. Please press the kehy 
for the option of your choice. 1. We capitulate before the Romulan might. 2. 
Thursday, next
starweek, is OK for a rematch. 3. Your Mother is an ugly
Bordsduksfrans and...”

Everything was calm and quiet on the bridge of USS Rent-for-a-Price, except for 
the rythmic beeps that
always sounded in the background, and the quiet ”swooooosh” sound that was 
always present (except on the WC, for when you had ”done your thing” 
unmentionable things happened – and that's why the question of a WC was never 
mentioned aboard).
  Suddenly everything began to shake out of sync again.
  ”Captain to engineering,” Smirk said. ”Tell me Smotty, what is happening?”
  ”Captain Sir,” Smotty said in a made-up up dialect (that he felt proud to 
master), ”we seem to have entered a hyproquadrant field. We are being bombared 
by delta-quanta
radiation that is in resonance with the surrounding
thetraon-oscillations which...”
  ”Mr Smock, do you understand one word he is saying?”
  ”Just a few words, like 'we', 'seem', 'to' and so on. But the general 
contents of the message from our chief-engineer is beyond be and seems highly 
illogical.”
  ”And the worst,” Smirk said with a smirk, ”is that I can't get him to stop 
once he has started...”
  ”...and the Burp Core reaction dampers are thus reinitialized in a 
statis-field generated by a influx of gravitonic hyper waveforms,...”
  ”Smotty, shut up! Just get us out of here!”
  ”...with a little ice-cream topping! Did I hear you say you want more power, 
Captain? Please? More power?”
  ”OK-OK-OK, Smotty. Give us more power then...”
  ”Understood, Captain. I'll give you all the power I can.”

After escaping the influx of gravitonic ice-cream topping, or whatever it was, 
Rent-at-a-Price was now entering the Circular Quadrant.
  "Captain,” Smock suddently exclaimed in the quiet Vulgar way only a true 
Vulgar could. ”I believe that that uncharted star over there could be our 
objective. The Cranberry radiation is particulary strong from that direction.”
  ”Take us closer, Mr Smeckov, but carefully. We don't want to interfere with 
any possible lifeforms present on that planet. It could be a totally new set of 
humanoids that differs from us just in clothing and silly face details. We must 
follow the subprime directive. To never interfer in any way that
could change the real estate values.”
  The ship, resempling a very badly constructed frying pan, slowly nudged its 
way closer to teh planet.
  ”Captain to sickbay!”
  ”Dr McSmoy here! It's not time for your second check-up yet, Jim. I think I 
have identified the little bug you got from the house with red lights on Amor 
VI and...”
  ”Please, Doctor, not on an open channel!”
  ”Jim, what do you want then?”
  ”I want you on the bridge, to get your professional opinion about the poor 
creatures we're going to blast into oblivion on prime time and syndication.”
  ”Jim, I'm a doctor not a yo-yo. I have plenty of things to do. Like... 
Like...”
  Nonetheless, in a short while Dr McSmoy joined Captain Smirk and Mr Smock on 
the bridge.
  Rent-at-a-Price was now in orbit around the planet.”
  ”Strange,” Mr Smeckov said. ”This planet is all white. It is as if it is one 
big North Pole...”
  ”My sensors indicate there are life forms down there,” Smock said. ”Shall I 
prepare a landing party?”
  ”Do that,” said Smirk. ”And it seems to be a very good idea to send down the 
Captain and all the ship's most valuable officers to this possibly very 
dangerous place.”
  A few minutes later the Captain, the first officer, the second officer, the 
third officer and the ship's treasury, without any space suits. By now our 
daring explorers had become so used to that 99,99 percent of all planets in the 
universe
had 1 G of gravity and 21 percent oxygen at exactly one atmosphere, that they 
even didn't bother to check it in advance. But it was a bit chilly.
  ”Now, we only have to find the lifeforms”, Smirk said. ”We need to find out 
if they are responsible for the Gamma-Beta-Cranberry radiation. I have a feeling
they are on the North Pole.”
  ”But Captain,” Dr McSmoy protested. ”All of this planet is a north pole. Our 
compasses won't work.”
  ”It is logical and true,” Smock said. ”My Bicorder won't show an accurate 
reading. But I have a new device, a very hi-tech thingie from the Vulgar 
Science Academy. It is called a 'GPS'. It will find us the way.”
  ”It's incredible what they invent,” Smirk said. ”One they they may even put 
number keys on our communicators so we can actually use them as a phone...”
  ”My 'GPS' indicates that our target may be 1000 kilometres to the North,” 
Smock said dryly.
  ”Smotty, beam us up!”
  And then:
  ”And then beam us down again, 1000 kilometres further north.”
  After struggling for a good time in no winter clothes in what to a TV viewer 
looked like small pieces of plastic (but it was snow – promise!) the little 
group came across a strange track on the ground.
  ”What do you make out of it, Doctor,” Smirk asked.
  ”It looks like a huge animal with horns and 28 legs...”
  ”Or more likely seven animals with four legs each,” Smock said. ”At least 
that is what my bicoder indicates. There is also something undefined... All my 
bicoder does is to flash in red, and white. Strange, and highly illogical.”
  Suddently there was a sound. It sounded like bells, jinglebells. The sound 
came closer. The group could hear a voice, something even the universal 
translator failed to make any sense out of:
  ”Ho-Ho! Ho-Ho-Ho!”

We now interrupt for a public service message. The producers of ”Star Prick” 
has long pondered what could be the best possible Christmas present to the 
viewers of this
show. Or should be say this brainless, juvenile show, full of
incomprehensible pseudo-science and re-used plot ideas.
  And we came up with that our best Christmas gift would be to promise to stop 
the show! Yes. This was the last episode. This is our Christmas present. No 
longer will you have to suffer the unbearable Captain Smirk, the cold and
cardboardlike Mr Smock and the medically clearly incompetent Dr McSmoy.
  Now, go out in the world AND GET A LIFE!
  Happy Holidays!



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