Subject: Re: Star Trek Transporter Toilet?
From: Captain Infinity
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo,rec.arts.startrek.current,rec.arts.sf.tv,alt.tv.star-trek.voyager
Date: Thu, 13 Jul 2000
Message-ID: <3972ef66.13373387@news-f.std.com>
Once Upon A Time,
In article <8kkf5p$hhc$1@knot.queensu.ca>
Jaime M De Castellvi wrote *some* of these things:
>Nowadays, the regs are fairly strict on the fact that nobody under 18 is
old enough to join me and my wife in a threesome. Drat! My ferrets are
>allowed to operate a transporter device. You can get in a lot of shit if
you don't clean their cages. You can smell and hear them pooping, but
>you don't watch it. Minors were not allowed to operate transporters
for the ferrets. Our cats used to do it, but now they're not allowed to
>either, but things were a lot more lax.
>
>I remember, when I was in grade five at Starfleet Primary, there was this
giant Tribble that couldn't breed. He would hide in the closet and scare a
>kid called Dan in my class and he was quite the card. His father had
bred Tribbles as a hobby. Once he crossbred one with a dust bunny that had
>been assimilated by the Borg, so he lived alone with his mother. Because
his mom was 1/2 human & 1/2 Denebeim Slime Devil and could see in the dark,
>she worked the late shift overseeing the dilithium manifold defibrulator,
(or was it the parthenogenic reverse-triambulator? I forget. Nevermind)
>he always got home before she did. He would bring her personal hygiene
products from the drug store but they never cured her stench. He carried a
>miniature transporter device to school (she never kept a switcher guard on
the closet where she kept her alien pr0n...she also kept her vibrator in
>it and she always forgot to lock it). It was one of those older models,
the kind that had to be held with three hands. Nuclear powered. You know,
>before they came up with the more automated miniature sensors that would
allow you buzz yourself while jogging or taking a shower, and it would
>keep a lock even while you moved around. He would replace it before she
missed it. He had to; she'd have a shot of Romulan Ale and a buzz when she
>got home every night, so she never knew he took it.
>
>But it was a riot. Dan would pre-program the thingie with the timer and
bring it to dancing class to scare the little girls. He'd run away, and
>then hide it outside sensor range of the class. Then, old Mr. Bloggins
(a brain in a jar) would be wheeled into class and propped up so that he
>would be facing that old-fashioned blackboard he used to be so proud
of, back in the days when slide rules were all the rage. He'd be sloshing
>about, and a teeny mound of turd would suddenly materialize on top of his
jar. No one knew where he kept his digestive system. It wasn't in his
>desk. Old Bloggins would turn and see the turd and he would get so mad
because the corn kernels were still whole. The entire class would laugh
>all of a sudden. But he never caught Dan because in truth, old
Dan's mouth had been sealed in a transporter accident; he couldn't laugh.
>Mr. Bloggins was never very, very bright.
>
>One of classmates, a female Horta by name of Pauddy, she really had the
best "boulders", IYKWIM. Woo Hoo! All 300 of her hatchlings had the
>hots for Dan. Hortas do not need to carry out waste disposal the way we
Humans would like; they store the do-do in plastic bags. They love do-
>do, so she used to find the concept hilarious, and she would laugh forever
because their vocal chords create temporal anomalies. Dan would get upset
>with that chirpy Horta laughter of hers at the thought that it was such a
mocking tone that would never, ever end. Creating non-entropic sounds is a
>social taboo with us humans. So of course, she broke up every time old
Danny boy cried his eyes out at her laughter, boo hoo. Then Mr. "Corny"
>Bloggins got in a rage over one of Dan's (only he didn't know it was
practical joke; a plastic ear of corn. Also, the idea was *mine*, not
>Dan's) turds materializing on his desk.
>
>So they took Dan to the school nurse to get him fixed, and then --with the
OK of his momma--chopped his nuts off. Then he went--served him right, the
>turd-- to the school principal to carve him a new asshole. Then he got in
a big plastic bag filled with Horta do-do. He knew he'd have to swim in
>more shit after his momma got home, although not as bad as he'd expected
because Hortas don't eat corn. His momma was a little annoyed by that
>but she thought it was cute that he'd got a Horta-hickie.
>
>Years later, Danny, Pauddy and I went together through the
Spanking Machine, at a fraternity/sorority hazing. They had these a lot at
>Academy. Haven't since either of them since graduation, but last I heard
his epididymitis had subsided, and she had hatched 6000 more kids. Also,
>he got appointed Science Officer at the "Argo", and she had made Captain
Infinity a set of potholders with Kermit Krab's picture on them. Oh yes,
>and had got the "Exeter". Old Bloggins, I hear, retired years ago.
I, of course, run the most successful Orion Slavegirl company in history.
**
Captain Infinity
..."There's nothing like an alt.fan.tom-servo style-like
wackylace to wake you up in the morning!"
--Julian Buczek, giving up coffee
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