<USS Banshee> Red Alert: Critical Situation!!
- From: CptHacker@xxxxxxx
- To: ussbanshee@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 6 Oct 2003 18:13:03 EDT
Still won't be back till January, but just to insult as many people as
possible and tide you over, here is, a new Mason log for your politically
incorrect
enjoyment.
Samantha and co.
Red Alert: Critical Situation!!
USS Banshee
by Samantha Mason
Samantha's comm was beeping off the hook. The message on her computer
terminal kept saying, "you have new mail" and "Dear patron, your e-mail box is
full,
if you would like to keep using our services you can buy the premium account
for 50 credits, you freeloading bastard." Samantha sighed, mashed the keypad
and up came a thousand messages mostly from Wallace and another two hundred
thousand about enlarging the penis she didn't have.
The first one read: "Hotcakes, I know you're sick but get down to
engineering! We have a situation! -Wal" It was dated a few days ago.
The second one read: "Hotcakes! I tried to ring your door chime but no one
answered. You've REALLY got to get down to engineering!"
The third one read: "HC! wots gong on?!!1 I si drunks @ 3-Fff how manny jerms
do u hav???/ U HAEV 2 GET DOWN 2 ENG!! Id emersjenc -W"
The fourth one read:
"Ma'am, this is Janice. Wallace is silently weeping under the plasma warp
injector console, I can't remove him, even by force and I kinda need to get to
it
to stop the warp breach or we all die, nevermind, I'll just use a phaser. Oh,
but really, when you are feeling better, please come down to engineering and
deal with the situation. Wallace is all...weireded up. He groped me yesterday
thinking I was you, I think he's delirious and extremely horny.
-Janice
P.S. I punched his teeth out. With the hypospanner."
The fifth read: "MA'AM I DUN WAZ THOUGHTS OF YOUS DURINS THE LAST FEW WEEKS N
I GOTS TO BE THINKS THAT YOU IS REAL SICK SO I DON GOTS MY GRANDMAMAS CHICKEN
BROTH. I DUN SENTS IT BY E-MAIL I HOPE YOU GETS IT AND DRINKS IT. IT DUN
GOOD. -H" In true fashion there was a picture of a chicken sitting in a pot of
milk.
Just as the E-mails implied our dear, dear Samantha Mason has been quite ill
these last few weeks, having come down with more than a cold. One of the worst
strains ever; Doctor Crusher wouldn't even see her without wearing a full EVA
suit with a transporter lock on her.
"You seem to have more than a cold," Doctor Crusher had said. "Do you think
that maybe you ran into something contagious? Have you been around any animals
lately?"
Samantha froze when the Doctor asked her. "No," Samantha had told her and
shook her head emphatically. Samantha didn't have to remember that, nobody did.
No one had to remember that stupid Betazed ball with all those naked people
walking around naked letting their naked body parts flap freely in the
sterilized
air of the ship. No one had to remember that she had been attacked by a loose
monkey. That she got her gown trapped in the elevator door and it ripped it
off of her leaving her to run naked through the ship again. Unwillingly! Second
time in a row! The last few weeks of being under house arrest for her illness
was a welcome twist. "No, no, no! NO! Not even naked around monkeys! I don't
like touching monkeys!!" The doctor stared. "I don't mean I'm like that or a
lesbian or...that way...I just don't like touching monkeys...you know monkeys
like the animal monkeys that...are...errr...urrr" Smanatha gave up explaining
and shook her head while mouthing "no, no monkeys."
Doctor Crusher pursed her lips and slowly backed toward the door and left.
She slipped the prognosis under the door. All it said was:
O | X | O
--------------
X |O | X
--------------
O | |
I win again!! You owe me coffee. Sara: 0; Sara: 2
Samantha dressed. All her uniforms were in order since she had been bed
ridden for god knows how long. She ambled down to engineering wondering what
horrors would await her. Would engineering be one funhouse of insanity? She
dreaded
every step she took, that and her bones still ached.
Arriving in engineering, Samantha prepared for the worst, but when the
turbolift doors opened, nothing, to her surprise, had changed. The consoles
still
worked. People still worked at their respective stations. Even Wallace's
putt-putt set was still neatly laid out with the putter hanging against the
wall.
Next to it sat the broken Ramsorbtian biting ant farm, still not cleaned up.
"OH MY GODS IT BE DA CHIEF!!" Hoju exclaimed.
Samantha waved meakily. Everyone turned and started applauding presumably
cause she was walking again. She waved frantically for them to stop, gave up,
and
then waved them off. "Ow my ears," she croaked. Her voice hadn't returned.
"What's...going...on?"
"HOTCAKES!" Wallace exclaimed! "Thank god! I was worried sick, these people
are just sucking up." He pointed at Janice. She glared back.
"We have an emergency?" Samantha asked.
"You've been replaced!" Wallace conveniently grabbed the ship's roster and
shoved it in her face. It read (excerpt from the USS Banshee roster):
Chief Engineer: Lieutenant JG John Terje
Assistant Engineer: Ensign Kadien tol'Cemmen
Assistant Engineer: Apply for Post
Assistant Engineer: Apply for Post
Engineering Mascot: Robot Chicken v2.0
"Oh," Samantha tossed the PADD aside hitting Hoju on the head and ambled back
to the turbolift coughing to herself.
"You can't go!" Wallace ran around and held her back. "I know you didn't
quit! Which means someone up there made a mistake! Maybe they were talkin' on
the
vidphone and was typing on the roster and made a bunch of mistakes, like they
somehow misspelled your name."
"Yeah right, Samantha can get misspelled into John," Janice interrupted.
"Who's Kadien tol'Cemmen?"
"IZ DUN AN INVISIBLE HUMAN GHOST INJUNEARER!!!"
Samantha spoke: "Whatever decision command makes is best. Besides I've been
out for weeks they need a department chief here. If they need---"
Wallace shook his head. "No way, ma'am! Did you even read the name? John??
John? Who's John? John's not a girl's name unless it's sort
for...uh...Johnerella or Johnette or Joan. I'll tell you who this guy is! He's
a guy! How am I
supposed to get used to that? When I come to engineering, I like to see your
round ass, perky breasts, erect nipples, and pretty face. Unlike 80% of this
ship
I'm not gay, so I don't know about you, but this John guy, isn't gonna work."
"You can always oogle Lockheart."
"No, actually he can't," Janice said. "I'd kill him. With my bare hands."
Wallace folded his arms over his chest. "We're gonna get this straightened
out ma'am. I'll be oogling those breasts of yours again."
"Look all of you," Samantha said. "Let this Lieutenant...Johnerella, or
whatever his, her...it's name is do it's job. I'll straighten this out with
Captain
Morrigan or Commander Andros and maybe Doctor Crusher will let me back on
duty in a few weeks. I am going back to bed."
Wallace spoke: "Do you need someone to be your personal nurse? I'll do it!
I'm qualified. I know how to do stuff. I could give you massages, bathe you,
and
help you with all your needs."
Samantha stopped and said: "In that case you can take care of my pussy. She's
restless. All you have to do is stroke her."
"YABA DABA DOOO!!"
"She means her cat, nimrod," Janice said.
Wallace stopped in mid jump. "Oh...I knew that."
to be continued...
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