(no subject)
Oct. 9th, 2009 02:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupI feel like I should have more to say about Show but my head hurts today so deep thoughts are impeded.
I am all a'twitter over President Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize. I can understand why so many people are bzuh? over it but it made me smile. Plus, I saw a great comment made out in the vast lj wasteland that the prize wasn't awarded so much to the President but rather to the American people who decided that enough was enough with all of the warmongering. And since it's often "awarded to encourage those who receive it to see the effort through, sometimes at critical moments" [cite] it's kind of like the committee is telling us all to keep on going, even though things look less-than-favorable at the moment.
Apparently I'm getting ready for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mini_nanowrimo a little early. So I thought I'd share some of my newest crack. Aren't you all so lucky. ;-) The following is Star Trek Reboot crack set in a universe where Pike is still Captain of the Enterprise. Because that's just fun.
~~~
“You know what I wanna be some day, Bones?”
McCoy looked up from the viewscreen on his desk and glanced at the biobed that Jim had draped himself over. “A pain in my ass?” McCoy grouched.
Jim turned over and propped his head on his folded arms, for all the galaxy looking like some adolescent girl talking about her crush. “Nah, I’m already that.” His face lit up with glee. “No, I wanna be a space pirate.”
McCoy took a deep breath to steady himself. Apparently it was too much to hope that Jim’d leave him in peace when he was on shift, but at least this time there weren’t wounded engineers streaming through the Sickbay doors.
“You mean you want to live your life in a flying roach motel that makes this Starfleet deathtrap seem like a goddamn luxury cruiser? If a hole pops in one of those things you won’t even have time to kiss your ass goodbye, let alone tell your partner and kids you love them. And don’t even get me started on the sanitation and the diseases. You don’t know pain until you’ve had to live through a case of Betelgeusian syphilis. There’s a whole new universe of STD’s out there just waiting for you to discover them.”
Jim’s grin only stretched and he kicked his feet in the air. “You make it all sound so romantic.”
McCoy rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have something else to do, like drown yourself in a water tank?”
“Nope,” Jim chirped. “Commander Collins banned me from the rec hall for the duration of the mission, or the next two days. And Spock’s busy “debugging syntax programs” with Uhura. So I guess you’re stuck with me. It’ll be like old times.”
“Great.” McCoy pointedly turned back to his viewscreen. “I’ll just be over here, looking up new and exciting ways to get myself kicked off this bucket.”
“There’s no need for that kind of research, Doctor.”
McCoy jerked in surprise at the interrupting voice and spun around in his seat. Hell, even Jim had the sense to straighten himself up. Captain Pike loomed in the doorway, a slightly pleased look on his face. McCoy knew that look, it was the older brother to the look that had gotten him into unknowable amounts of trouble at the Academy. This could not be good.
“We just received a communication from a ship at the edge of the Cirian system. They’ve picked up a new strain of Mendorian bronchitis and need medical assistance.” Pike raised an eyebrow, his self-satisfaction rising to nearly Kirkian levels. “And you’re our assistance. Be ready for transport by 0500.”
“Excuse me, sir,” McCoy said when Pike turned to leave. Pike looked over with an almost anticipatory expression. “Can I ask who it is I’ll be assisting?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention that?” Pike’s face shifted into something that might be called a grin, if grins were evil. “Your mission of mercy will be served on the Impala. You’d better get ready, we’ll be there before you know it.” He nodded at them. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
McCoy groaned and his forehead thudded onto the top of his desk. He didn’t look up even when Jim came over and clapped him on the shoulder.
“You think you could bring me back an eyepatch? Or maybe just a hat? I’d look good in a pirate hat.”
The universe hated him, Leonard H. McCoy, personally and individually. It was the only explanation.
~~~
I am all a'twitter over President Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize. I can understand why so many people are bzuh? over it but it made me smile. Plus, I saw a great comment made out in the vast lj wasteland that the prize wasn't awarded so much to the President but rather to the American people who decided that enough was enough with all of the warmongering. And since it's often "awarded to encourage those who receive it to see the effort through, sometimes at critical moments" [cite] it's kind of like the committee is telling us all to keep on going, even though things look less-than-favorable at the moment.
Apparently I'm getting ready for
mini_nanowrimo a little early. So I thought I'd share some of my newest crack. Aren't you all so lucky. ;-) The following is Star Trek Reboot crack set in a universe where Pike is still Captain of the Enterprise. Because that's just fun.~~~
“You know what I wanna be some day, Bones?”
McCoy looked up from the viewscreen on his desk and glanced at the biobed that Jim had draped himself over. “A pain in my ass?” McCoy grouched.
Jim turned over and propped his head on his folded arms, for all the galaxy looking like some adolescent girl talking about her crush. “Nah, I’m already that.” His face lit up with glee. “No, I wanna be a space pirate.”
McCoy took a deep breath to steady himself. Apparently it was too much to hope that Jim’d leave him in peace when he was on shift, but at least this time there weren’t wounded engineers streaming through the Sickbay doors.
“You mean you want to live your life in a flying roach motel that makes this Starfleet deathtrap seem like a goddamn luxury cruiser? If a hole pops in one of those things you won’t even have time to kiss your ass goodbye, let alone tell your partner and kids you love them. And don’t even get me started on the sanitation and the diseases. You don’t know pain until you’ve had to live through a case of Betelgeusian syphilis. There’s a whole new universe of STD’s out there just waiting for you to discover them.”
Jim’s grin only stretched and he kicked his feet in the air. “You make it all sound so romantic.”
McCoy rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have something else to do, like drown yourself in a water tank?”
“Nope,” Jim chirped. “Commander Collins banned me from the rec hall for the duration of the mission, or the next two days. And Spock’s busy “debugging syntax programs” with Uhura. So I guess you’re stuck with me. It’ll be like old times.”
“Great.” McCoy pointedly turned back to his viewscreen. “I’ll just be over here, looking up new and exciting ways to get myself kicked off this bucket.”
“There’s no need for that kind of research, Doctor.”
McCoy jerked in surprise at the interrupting voice and spun around in his seat. Hell, even Jim had the sense to straighten himself up. Captain Pike loomed in the doorway, a slightly pleased look on his face. McCoy knew that look, it was the older brother to the look that had gotten him into unknowable amounts of trouble at the Academy. This could not be good.
“We just received a communication from a ship at the edge of the Cirian system. They’ve picked up a new strain of Mendorian bronchitis and need medical assistance.” Pike raised an eyebrow, his self-satisfaction rising to nearly Kirkian levels. “And you’re our assistance. Be ready for transport by 0500.”
“Excuse me, sir,” McCoy said when Pike turned to leave. Pike looked over with an almost anticipatory expression. “Can I ask who it is I’ll be assisting?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention that?” Pike’s face shifted into something that might be called a grin, if grins were evil. “Your mission of mercy will be served on the Impala. You’d better get ready, we’ll be there before you know it.” He nodded at them. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
McCoy groaned and his forehead thudded onto the top of his desk. He didn’t look up even when Jim came over and clapped him on the shoulder.
“You think you could bring me back an eyepatch? Or maybe just a hat? I’d look good in a pirate hat.”
The universe hated him, Leonard H. McCoy, personally and individually. It was the only explanation.
~~~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-10-09 07:49 pm (UTC)(p.s. In re my rant this spring about how Kirk shouldn't have just gone from cadet to captain based on one kick-ass mission: This is totally what should have happened! Pike still in command, Kirk and Company serving on the Enterprise because holy hell, THIS.)
You give great Bones.
*uses Obamawesome icon to mark the occasion*
no subject
Date: 2009-10-20 04:36 am (UTC)I have to let
You know how sometimes I say that Mulder ruined me for all other men? Yeah, I only say that because I forget that Bones ruined me at a younger, more impressionable age. Cranky Bones is love.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-09 11:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-20 04:37 am (UTC)