Where No One has Phasered Before

(On the bridge. All appears normal.)

Kirk: Iím going to bed. Mr. Chekov, you have the conn.

Chekov: Me, ser?! Vhy?

Kirk: Because Iím pissed off with the writers and I wish to thwart them! You have the conn, Ensign! Get to it! NOW!

(Suddenly, a bunch of holes in the fabric of space crop up.)

Spock: It appears that several holes in the fabric of space have appeared. According to Regulation 18, you must remain on the bridge.

(Evil chuckling fills the bridge, sounding suspiciously like the writers.)

Sulu: (panicked) Captain! Weíre heading straight for one of those holes! The helmís locked up!

Kirk: Evasive action!

Sulu: Sir, the helmís locked up! I just said that!

Kirk: Oh.

(While they speak, the ship is sucked into a hole. Sparkly special effects.)

Kirk: Whatís happening?

Spock: Unknown, Captain. I would rpesume, though, that we are being sucking into, not just an alternate universe, but an alternate TV series.

Chekov: Like vhat?

Spock: The possibilities are limitless, Ensign.

Sulu: Maybe weíll be on Baywatch!

Spock: That is illogical. The writers are minors.

Sulu: Aww...

Kirk: How do you know the writers are minors?

Spock: As shown by their earlier writings, they can think about Teletubbies without barfing.

Kirk: Oh. Begin scanning! Find out where we are!

Scotty: Are ye sure theyíre minors? THey did put us in that terrible situation without your boxers...

Kirk: Never mind that! Spock, youíre in charge! All of you, and you, security dude, get down to the transporter room! Weíre beaming down!

(They head to the transporter. Sparkly transporter effects.)

Kirk: Hey! Werenít these the space hole effects?

Spock: Logically, the writers have cut the limited budget yet again so that they can buy Skittles.

Chekov: Vhat are Skittles?

(They finally materialize. The landscape is animated and predominantly pink.)

Kirk: Everybody, phasers on stun. There might be hostile life forms.

(Cheerful, saccharine music begins playing. Everyone covers their ears.)

McCoy: Look! On the horizon!

(A crowd of pastel-colored beings with happy smiles that bear a passing resemblance to horses gallop playfully along.)

Disembodied Voice: My Little Ponies, My Little Ponies...

(A nameless redshirted ensign is trampled by the dainty hooves of a creature with butterflies all over its backside.)

Redshirt: AAAAGH!


(Everyone fires on the cheerful ponies, except Chekov, whose phaser doesnít work.)

Kirk: Beam us up!

(They beam up.)

Spock: There are several dozen holes we can try. Only one leads back to our series.

Kirk: Letís get out of here! The hole nearest us, Spock!

(More sparkly effects. Sound of writers eating candy.)

Spock: We have shifted series, Captain. There appears to be a large metropolis on the planet below us.

Kirk: To the transporter!

(In the transporter room)

Kirk: Where are all my redshirts?

Spock: (listening) I believe they are in the closet, Captain.

(Spock drags out six protesting redshirts. They beam down. Sparkly effects.)

Redshirt #1: AAIIGHH! (is run over by a primitive vehicle with an internal combustion engine)

Kirk: Fire phasers!

(They fire. Chekovís does not work. The vehicle is vaporized. A red-suited figure swoops down on what appears to be a string.)

Red-Suited Figure: Hey! Thatís a no-no in my town!

Kirk: Who are you?

Red-Suited Figure: Iím crushed! You mean you donít know Spider-Man?

Spock: That is illogical. You are not a spider.

Chekov: Veíre going to die!

(Spider-Man webs a redshirt, who dies.)

Kirk: Beam us up!

(Sparkly beam-up effects. Dramatic music.)

Kirk: Head for the nearest hole!

(Meanwhile, Spider-Man puzzles over the phaser and communicator. Is it Smythe?)

(They enter the hole. More sparkly effects.)

Kirk: Iím getting sick of sparkles!

(Maniacal laughter.)

Spock: I do not yet know where we are, but we are not home.

Kirk: Shit! I have to beam down again!

(Everybody beams down again. They sigh in relief when they see it is not animated.)

Spock: Fascinating. It appears to be a 20th century shopping mall.

(A really fake-looking monster runs up.)

Monster: Iím a monster! Iím going to kill you! (kills redshirt)

Uhura: Captain! Look!

(A group of 5 people in different colored costumes appear. They begin whirling around, yelling ďHyaa!Ē and doing very fake karate motions towards the monster. Sulu collapses to the pavement in laughter.)

Pink-Suited Figure: Stay back! Weíll handle this!

(The pink-suited figure is hit from behind. Sparkles fly. Everyone groans. Pink-suited figure yells and executes bad prat-fall.)

Kirk: (looking bored) Fire phasers on the monster.

(The monster is vaporized.)

Suited Figures: Whoa...

Red-Suited Figure: Who are you?

Kirk: Beam us up!

(Sparkly transporter effects. The overdose of sparkles causes a redshirt to die en route.)

Kirk: Spock, where are we?

Spock: Unknown, Captain.

(The ENTERPRISE zooms through a hole. Sparkles. Three redshirts die.)

Kirk: NOW where are we?

Spock: Unknown, Captain.

Kirk: Why do I keep asking you? You never know!

Spock: The writers do not wish you to know yet.

Kirk: Damn writers!

(More evil laughter. Sound of Skittles being eaten.)

Kirk: Letís beam down!

(They beam down. Sparkles cause two redshirts to die.)


Spock: Wait; it appears to be a different kind of animation. (looks around) We appear to be on an island. There is a mountain to our left. It is spewing black gears. Fascinating.

Uhura: Look! A bunch of kids with cute little animals!


(The children look concerned.)

Children: Digivolve!

(All the cute little animals turn into bigger cute little animals, who charge them. The ENTERPRISE crew casually dispatch all of them but a tiny brown one. The children scream and run. A redshirt is trampled.)

Uhura: (picking up animal) Oh, how cute! May I keep it, Captain?

Kirk: NO! You know what happened when I let you keep that tribble! Beam us up!

(They beam up. They are out of redshirts by the time they materialize. Evil chuckling.)

Kirk: Enter a hole! Itís boring here!

(There are screams from the closet accompanying the sarkly special effects.)

Spock: We appear to be above a planet with a teeming metropolis, Captain.

Kirk: Is itóno, let me guess, itís unknown, right?

Spock: Exactly.

Kirk: *sigh* To the transporter!

Scotty: Hereís some redshirts!

(The redshirts wail piteously but are ignored. They beam down.)

Kirk: Look! (points up)

(Figure flies high above.)

Kirk: Fire phasers!

(They fire. The figure swoops down, unaffected.)


Scotty: (over communicator) Transporter malfunction, sair!

(Two redshirts die as the figure comes closer.)


(They beam up.)

Kirk: What was the malfunction?

Scotty: It overloaded and produced extra sparkles, sair. Iím afraid the redshirts dinna make it. (points)

Kirk: (looking) Damn.

(Suddenly the transporter malfunctions again and sends them back down!)

Kirk: Damn you, writers!

(Evil laughter.)

Figure: Are you a threat? Are you from Luthor?

Kirk: Thereís only one thing to do!

Disembodied Voice: Faster than a speeding bullet!

Kirk: Iím going to talk to him!

(The crew shriek and cover their ears.)

Disembodied Voice: More powerful than a locomotive!

Kirk: And you call yourself morally superior? Youíre a murderer!

Figure: But Iím Superman!

Disembodied Voice: Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound! This amazing stranger from the planet Krypton!

Kirk: Did you ever think about the feelings of everyone ELSE? The dirt? The birds? The computers you callously destroyed? My God, man! Some of those may have been sentient!

(Superman dies.)

Disembodied Voice: Itís SUPERMAN! Defender of Justice!

Kirk: Success! Beam us up!

(They beam up.)

Kirk: Through a hole!

(They go through a hole, and find themselves confronted with ten Klingon war dragons.)

Everyone: WEíRE HOME!!

(The Klingons fire. Sulu evades them all and all the Klingon ships blow up.)

Things are back to normal!

Space . . .
The final frontier . . .
These are the voyages of the Starship ENTERPRISE . . .
Its continuing mission . . .
To explore strange, new series . . .
To seek out new ratings and new ways to kill redshirts . . .
To bodly phaser where no one has phasered before!

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