The Hitch-hikers guide to Star Trek TNG - funny

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THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

THE HITCHHIKER’S

GUIDE TO STAR TREK:

THE NEXT GENERATION

By David T Lu and Mickey McCarter

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

The Hitchhiker's Guide to

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The Next Generation

[ Don't Panic! ]

David T Lu and Mickey McCarter

(with sincere apologies to Douglas Adams and all Star Trek writers)

September 21, 1990

This parody is written by David T Lu and Mickey McCarter, and hereby granted to the Public

Domain. All duplications of this parody is completely legal as long as such duplications are

made within the United Federation Space, that this notice be included with all duplications, and

each duplication is made with a donation of fifty (50) Altarian Dollars, at the current inter-

galactic money market exchange rate, to Save the Dolphins Foundation, in care of:

David T Lu, Amateur Thinker lulu@ucrmath.ucr.edu.earth.sol.zero.milky

-or-

Mickey McCarter, Potential President mickey@brahms.udel.edu.earth.sol.zero.milky

• Part 1

• Part 2

THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

The Hitchhikers Guide to Star Trek - Part 1

SCENE 1:

Enterprise Bridge. Everyone at his/her stations.

Data: Captain, sensors are picking up two vessels ahead. One appears to be firing upon the

other. However, I am receiving no distress signals.

Picard: Is it the Borg, Mr. Data?

Data: I believe it is the Borg, sir. The larger ship appears to be rectangular in shape.

Riker: Red Alert! Shields up! Fire all weapons!

Picard: Delay that order, Number One. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not even kidnapped yet.

Therefore, I am in charge of this ship!

Riker: Oh, that's right. Sorry, sir. I'll wait until you've been kidnapped, and *then* I'll fire at the

Borg ship, with you in it!

Picard: Err..., right! What about the other ship, Data? Is it the Romulans?

Data: Unknown, Captain. It's shaped like ... a shoe.

Picard: A shoe?

Riker: It must be the rumored Romulan Nike class. It's supposed to run faster, jump farther, has

better shields for shock absorption, and a little pump on top that you can squeeze. I read about it

in this week's _Playbeing_ ... err, (avoiding the questioning gaze of Troi) only for the articles, of

course. It's supposed to be top secret. Didn't you see it, Captain?

Picard: You mean that article on page 42, right after the holoimages of Eccentrica Gallumbits,

the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six? Of course not! Everyone knows that I only read

William Shakespeare and Oolon Colluphid. Data, on screen.

On the screen, holoimages of Eccentrica Gallumbits of Eroticon Six flash by. She is shown in a

variety of rather creative poses. Her three breasts hanging ...

Picard: The Borg, Mr. Data!

Data: My apologies, sir. I thought you meant ...

THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

Picard: Thank you, Mr. Data!

On the screen, we now see the Borg ship tractor-beaming a much smaller, white, shoe-shaped

ship. It's shields almost gone, offering no resistance. Hushed disappointments fill the bridge.

Picard: (coughs) Worf, open a channel to the ... shoe.

Worf: Channel opened, sir.

Eddie: Hi there! I'm Eddie, the shipboard computer here at the Heart of Gold, and I want to be

your friend!

Picard: (standing up, straightening his uniform) I'm Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS

Enterprise. I notice that you are having some difficulties. Do you wish our assistance.

Eddie: Well, hello, Jean-Luc! Oh yeah, I can definitely use an extra hand over here. You see, I'm

trying to make some tea.

Riker: Tea?

Data: Tea. An ancient Earth beverage originated in Asia. China, to be precise. It consists of

dried leaves in boiled water.

Eddie: Yep, just like your robot says! With milk.

Riker: Squirted out of a cow?

Data: Which, I believe, is an English tradition. By the way, I am not a robot. I'm an android.

Wesley: (whispers) Contractions, Data!

Data: What? Oh, I mean, _I am_ an android.

Picard: Well, that's all very nice. I am sure we can arrange for some tea to be made. Right, Mr.

LaForge?

Geordi: It will require redesigning the data structures of our food synthesizers, reprogramming

the holodeck to create solid matters simulating Asiatic plant life, implementing an error checking

protocol that allows the two to communicate in parallel, and creating a user-friendly, menu-

driven, icon-based graphics user interface with mouse support and on-line, context-sensitive,

hypertext help. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll have it purring like a Syranian monkey-cow in

heat.

Picard: Make it so, Lieutenant. (turning to Eddie on the screen) Actually, the difficulty I was

referring to was the Borg that is currently attacking you.

THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

Eddie: Huh? What Borg? Hold on, let me allocate a couple megajoules to my external sensors.

(pause) Yikes! Hey, guys, I'm being attac about this. I'll get back to you in a sec.

[Insert 30 seconds of Nike Michael Jordon promo commercial here, interrupted by an Energizer

rabbit drumming in ... "Thump! Thump! Thump! And it keeps going, and going, ..."]

SCENE 2:

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Heart of Gold, Arthur, Ford, Zaphod, and Trillian are staring at

the rear viewer as if they are being attacked by the Borg, which, as it happens, they are. The ship

continuous to rock continuously as it absorbs blows upon blows of Borg's phasers. Marvin

begins to whistle a new tune that he had just made up ...

Arthur: So, this is it. We're all going to die.

Ford: Over a cup of tea.

Trillian: With milk.

Marvin: Don't bother to ask me what tune I'm whistling, because even if I tell you, you won't

understand it. Here I am, brain the size of a planet, reduced to entertaining myself by making

music. Music. Oh, how I hate music. By the way, our shields can last another 23.2536 seconds,

in case anyone's wondering.

He paused for what he calculates to the nanosecond the amount of time required for an average

human being and an average Betelgeusian to register in their pity cerebrums the destruction time

that he had just cited, then added another 1.2548 seconds to compensate for this particular crew.

Marvin: I'm not getting you down at all, am I?

Zaphod: Hey, guys, lighten up! I'm sure we can think of something! Let's see (looking under the

control console) ... where's Eddie's plug? Maybe we can, like, pull it or something.

Marvin: I thought you wanted excitement and adventure and really wild things.

Zaphod: Shut up, Marvin. Zarquons, I need a drink!

Eddie: Hi guys! (coming back, he startled everyone on the Heart of Gold. Zaphod bangs both of

his heads under the control console) Did someone say a drink? Come on, give me a break! Here I

am, being attacked by a Borg, whatever _that_ is, and first you asked me to make you some tea,

and now you want a drink??!! All right, what'll it be?

Zaphod: Some Gargle Blasters, you misaligned piece of Kronian El-Cheapo Silicon! Now get us

outta here!

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