"British Naval Dude" is sponsored in part by the Stratos Mining Company, exploiting workers for over forty years. Stratos- you want our ores cuz we’re better than you.
Last time on "British Naval Dude";
BND: Oh, just go an’read tha previous spammin’ episodes ya buncha pukey kiddly botie bans! Arrrr….
SCENE 1, the Star Trek pub:
::: enter Wesley Crusher, various Trek characters are fighting Species 8472, BND’s katra is in Jean Valjean while his skull and body lay on the floor waiting to be restored:::
WESLEY: It ends here, bucko.
ROBERT BELTRAN: Wes- you better not go back in time and hit the reset button to finish this story.
RICK BERMAN: Huh? What do you mean I’m fired now? (hugs his Toby the Targ plush toy)
SPECIES 8472: I’ll rip you all apart, piece by piece. I’ll decorate my walls with your organs and use your skulls for bowls. And I’ll kill Dax a few times just to be sure.
McCOY: Sounds like the goddam Spanish Inquisition.
WESLEY: (grabs a phazor) I know your weak spot, Mr. Species.
SPECIES 8472: You know that my groin is in my knees? Gimme that, you little punk! (grabs phazor) Let’s just end this sad little story.
:::Species 8472 phazors BND’s body, vaporizing it:::
BND: Awwwwwk nooooooo!
WORF: (looks up to the ceiling)YARRRRRRRRG!
::: Beltran phazors Worf:::
VALJEAN: Now your katra will be stuck in my head forever… better get on the liver transplant list.
BND: No, no, no… I ain’t got no body…no, no! I be thus a no body; cruel, cruel sea o’ fate foamin’ o’er a wretched sailor… Maybe… maybe we can snatch another body? Brain birds aren’t usin’ their brains… Oh… wha’ about a robot? Wha’ about…
WESLEY: Frag it, BND. Your head had its flesh burnt off, so you would’ve looked like Ghost Rider anyway. There’s more to life than the body. But first we need to stop Species 831something.
:::Wesley pushes Species 8472 through back wall of pub, out into cattle field:::
NOMAD: (sterilizing cattle): Hehe… silly imperfect lifeforms. And those UFO nutters don’t suspect that tribbles make the crop circles.
SPECIES 8472: What’s that Datsun transmission doing?
NOMAD: Imperfect! Must sterilize!
SPECIES 8472: Aaaaaaagggh
NOMAD: All imperfection must be sterilized.
WES: My God, it’s Simon Cawl!
::: Nomad senses a Spice Girls reunion across town, exits :::
::: Wesley drags Species 8472 back into pub:::
WESLEY: Hey, nobody help me or anything. I just saved the day for you wankers.
PATRICK STEWART: I wish his father had been sterilized…
MILES O’BRIEN: I don’t get it. Why did the mechanical beastie spare you?
WESLEY: Maybe because I’m perfect?
LAUGH TRACK: Hahahahahahahahahahaha
SPECIES 8472: Wes…
WESLEY: You’re still alive? Someone hand me a lead pipe…
SPECIES 8472: Wes… No… I need to tell you… Wes…I’m your father…
WESLEY: That’s impossible!
SYBOK: I didn’t see that coming. And it’s really dumb because it’s a tired, clichéd joke now.
BILL CLINTON: I feel your pain, Sybok. Hey… can you introduce me to T’Powie? (gets kicked in groin by 7 of 9)
SPECIES 8472: It’s true, Wes. I met your mother one night after she had too much Rommie Ale and her gates were all open. Oh, she still has my Peter Frampton album. But it conveniently explains all of your superhuman abilities. (stand up) No matter, I’m gunna kill all of these Trekites because enough is enough.
PATRICK STEWART: The Federation handbook has a suggestion for dire situations like this: When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.
:::everyone does so :::
WESLEY: Stop it! Ever think the Federation could be wrong at times?
PATRICK STEWART: But the magic of Star Trek is our definite moral superiority that humans are always right and bumpy heads are inferior jerkasses.
WESLEY: No. Don’t you see? It’s the sense that we can all work together, no matter who or what we are, and we can create a bright tomorrow- that’s the magic of Star Trek. The power of positive goals and positive relationships with each other. Everyone- think happy thoughts! They’ll weaken Species 84whatever so I can finish him off.
PATRICK STEWART: Well, if the patricidal Mr, Crusher wins, then we’re all saved. If he loses, then no big loss, right?
EVERYONE: Yeah, that’s right…
PATRICK STEWART: Go ahead, Mr. Crusher. We’ll all think happy thoughts to help you. But, listen, no one think the very happy thought of Wes getting his butt kicked.
::: commercial break:::
Now back to "British Naval Dude", with jam
Continuing Scene, all are thinking happy thoughts, Wesley has Species 8472 in a headlock:
SPECIES 8472: Oh, nooo! Puppie dogs! Summer walks in Brighton! Babies cooing in their prams… and… Chakotay having Janeway kick him in the groin?
WORF: Sorry. I will think of another positive matter.
WESLEY: It’s working… a little day of the dove works better than your groin being shoved.
7 OF 9: Yet this will make me happy. (finds Species 8472’s groin, kicks it)
COLONEL KIRA: Hey- this will make me happy. (punches Dukat)
JOLENE BLALOCK: Better ratings will make me happy. (inexplicably disrobes)
OPIE: (spitting vodka) Now that’s what I call a backdraft!
SHINZON: This will make me happy. (bites Patrick Stewart’s kneck) Hey… it’s all Earl Grey.
PORTHOS: Woof Woof Woof. (humps Hoshi’s leg)
SULU: Oh, my…this will make me happy. (kisses Chekov)
CHEKOV: Dis will make me wery happy. (kisses Uhuru)
HARLAN ELLISON: I got nothing.
TUVOK: This will bring me serenity. (pulls out glock, fires at Neelix) Now you dance.
::: Species 8472 shoots randomly, hits Trip, hits a Blueshirt (what the heck), shoots through ceiling:::
WORF: Why aren’t happy thoughts working? I am angry at happy thoughts.
WESLEY: There’s a problem. It’s the schitzoid dichotomy of Trek… yes, it’s all about peaceful co-existence and working together in an exciting, positive future, but the fans only get jazzed up about the violence, like TWOK.
WORF: Twok was my grandmother’s name.
ROBERT BELTRAN: I could shoot Worf again.
:::Species 8472 signs Beltran to another 7 years, eats Sybock, transports Barclay into wall, phazors a passing starship:::
PATRICK STEWART: Oh, no… we’re all doomed. Abandon pub!
:::Enterprise B falls from space, crushes Patrick Stewart:::
CAPTAIN HARRIMAN: Damn it. Did we just accidently kill another one?
ODO: License and registration, please.
CAPTAIN HARRIMAN: Full reverse! Shoot the witnesses!
:::B fires photon torpedos, hits Chang, hits Reverend Jim, hits Species 8472
SPECIES 8472: Oh, I die, Horatio… unless I can (reads from old Voyager script) open a fractional trans-dimensional tachyon conduit.
WESLEY: He’s opened a frictional trans-anal tittygone condom. While he’s concentrating on that, I’m going to tap into his immense mental power and absorb it to become what I have been destined to become all along- a being of pure thought, pure energy.
SPOCK: Fine, I’ll say it- "Pure energy."
WESLEY: This stupid plot twist will allow BND to take over my body after I leave it, and thus he can continue on.
BND: But… what aboot ya? And…uhhh… I hate ta ask… but are ya a decent size, ya know, down thar? I mean…uhhh…
WESLEY: No complaints from Ashley Judd. All shall be well. Like the end of TMP.
VALJEAN: Tis a far, far better thing that he does than he has ever done. Tis a far, far better place that he goes to. Hmmm… I guess I was Sydney Carton all along.
:::bright lights shine, dimension barrier opens, Species 8472 returns home, Wesley transcends his body leaving it limp but alive, transporter special effects tinkle around Valjean and Wes’ body :::
RIKER: Goodbye, Wes. Don’t piss off the Organians.
MICHAEL DORN: My make-up… it’s gone! I’ve been healed!
7 OF 9: My Borg implants have become just more silicone.
BRENT SPINER: And I’m a real boy. Wait… I gotto grow old now like all you jerks.
PATRICK STEWART: (while dying) And poop. Oh, it’s a grand thing.
WESLEY/BND: Lookee! It’s me! BND! Awwwk… I’m corporeal again!
VALJEAN/SIDNEY: My doppelganger is gone! I am alone in my thoughts now…free! Free!
GOVERNOR: Yeah, well… we still would like to execute you for the mutiny in episode one. Unless you can tell us about J.J.’s movie?
SIDNEY: The fans will cry out- It is the best of Trek, it is the worst of Trek.
COLONEL KIRA: You know, after time travel, it seems that possession is the next most over-used plot device in Trek.
MICHEAL DORN: I know. It’s lame. Wanna get drunk?
:::exit to go to Quark’s, BND and Sidney remain in broken bar:::
SIDNEY: Something’s out of phase.
BND: What could it be? Hey- listen to me, I’m actually speaking like a regular person!
SIDNEY: That’s not all… restoring your katra to a different body will radically change who you are.
BND: What do you mean?
SIDNEY: Well, look at yourself now. You’re not British… you’re not in any navy… but you are, at least, still a dude.
BND: One out of three isn’t all that bad.
SIDNEY: Yes and who knows what truth is, or is not, especially when you’re online. And that can be problematic as we begin to truly rely on information from a place where fake tatas can be photoshopped on Harry Kim.
BND: You’re getting preachy, ya bongke nerk. Like a lot of sci-fi.
SIDNEY: Truth be told, in that body you’re not going to be some swashbuckling space sailor. You’re going to grow up to be some middle-aged guy in some middle-management job in some middle-American province… hey- like Cincinnati!
BND: Oy, mate. Well, that be life. But, how anti-climactic. This terrible ending to the story-arc may really enrage the viewers.
SIDNEY: Well… there is one thing we can do to recover from this awful blow.
BND: What’s that?
SCENE 2, a fight arena:
::: enter Kirk and Picard :::
PICARD: You blow-hard bastard… I’m going to strangle you with your own girdle.
KIRK: I’d like to see you try, baldy. You see…I have… already beaten you. Haha!
PICARD: That makes no sense at all, baldy! Negotiate this! (throws left bootie at Kirk)
KIRK: Haha! You once had to get me- yes, ME- to fight for you. Weren’t you… beaten up by a woman… in that episode where Tuvok takes over- YES, takes over- your ship?
PICARD: Oh, your ship was shanghaied countless times. Even by a non-canon Vulcan! Anyway, I always used more reasonable and peaceful alternatives in conflict resolution to avoid resorting to violence. Now eat my fists!
KIRK: Not today… I’m already full of ham… (throws sand in Picard’s eyes)
PICARD: Arrrr… (lunges, tears Kirk’s shirt off)
KIRK: Thank you… I usually have to do that… myself…and why is yours lavender? (attempts flying-kick but Picard’s head hits him in groin)
PICARD: You’ll find that I’ve hit the gym!
KIRK: Yes, it was…. a lucky shot. (gutpunches Picard)
:::: music swells, Picard and Kirk continue to struggle, fade out :::
::: TEASER :::
Next time on "British Naval Dude":
COMMANDER SISKO: Men, there’s an evil force out there, a force that threatens our very way of life. All of us are different children of Trek, but we must unite, we must pull together and be as one.
MIDSHIPMAN NOG: We’re all behind you sir!
COMMANDER SISKO: Good, because you’re going to have to push this space station to where the battle is taking place. Now, get at it men!
::: crew pulls station through desert:::
BND: I wish I really whar in Cincinnati about now… arrrrr….
KIRK: Come back here and fight like a man!
PICARD: Hahaha! I got your hair! Look at me- I’m a sexy starship captain making it with the ladies and beating up the gents. Oh, kiss, kiss, Mr. Spock!
:::fade to lavendar:::
Baby, if you ever wondered... Wondered, whatever became of me... I'm living on the air in Cincinnati... Cincinnati WBND