A/N: Please oh please review!
I do not own any of these characters, but whoever does should be horrified.
"Break A Leg!"
In a time of vacation aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant Geordi La Forge decided to stop by Lieutenant Commander Data's quarters to impart some friendly encouragement. This evening the android would be starring in a production of William Shakespeare's Richard III. Thus the engineer, in good spirits, decided a quick in and out just to wish his friend the best of luck was in order.
"Ow! You muf**kin' piece a sh**! " Geordi La Forge howled in pain as he fell to the ground, clutching his femur.
"You said break a leg, did you not?" Lt. Commander Data inquired matter-of-factly, standing unmoved, several feet before the shrieking engineer.
"What the f**k Data!"
"To accomplish your wishes efficiently, I reasoned it was most practical to break your leg Geordi,due to the fact my legs are made of molybdenum-cobalt alloys, duranium and bioplast sheeting. You did not specify whose leg you wished for me to-"
"That's not what I meant you stupid f**kin' R2D2, muf**kin' candy ss C3P0 lookin', Jaundice eyed, Albino muaf**ckin', mustard shirt wearin', b!tch ss, toaster ss, idiot!"
"But Geordi you said and I quote: 'Break a leg Data, I really mean it!'." Data informed in utter bafflement, over the most sadistic run on he'd ever heard so effortlessly stream forth from Geordi's mouth. Which got him thinking, for Geordi was speaking in an unfamiliar way. He didn't recognize most of the terms in this strange dialect.
"Accessing." Data announced.
"Ah! Ebonics. Earth, Derived from ghettos. When in doubt, throw in an izzle." Data read calmly allowed after a moments research. This situation had certainly caused Data doubt. Thus izzle reasoned to provide an ample solution.
"Geord-izzle my nizzle, are you imploring the vernacular that was effected in your hood?"
"Ah heeeell nah Data! You f**ckin' wit dah wrong n**ga if you think that naive bulls**t gone get cho plastic ss off da hook! Mah leg be broken n**ga! Don't jus stand thur!" The Engineer growled mercilessly, looking up at the smartest stupidest sentient being in the universe, parallel, alternate or otherwise. Data was now simulating an apologetic cringe. He tapped his Commbadge urgently.
"Data to Sickbay. Requesting immediate emergency personal and one stretcher to my quarters. Lieutenant Geor-"
"Oh uh-uh!" Geordi interjected defiantly.
Data's mouth hung open. He was becoming increasingly concerned with Geordi's inability to use formal speech.
Unfortunately Karma was a quick bitch this time, and it was now Geordi who was cut off by Beverly's voice coming through the Commbadge just as his lips thought to form a word of malicious intent.
"Data must I remind you again? If you're sick go to Engineering. If the cats sick, take it to the vet." the Doctor sighed with notable vexation. She sounded a woman who'd heard Data cry wolf one too many times before.
"Crusher out." The Doctor stated with terse attitude. Unbenounced to her, her Commbadge had failed to terminate the connection. Thus enabling second officer and chief engineer to overhear the Doctors current activity.
"...No, no, really Jean Luc I assure you, I don't have to be anywhere. It was just Data, probably pretending to be human again." Crusher informed.
"Ah yes some charade needing your medical faculties I suppose?" In response came the Captains notably exerted voice.
"You have no idea Jean Luc. After he used a replicator to replicate diarrhea to simulate his latest human research of the flu, I stopped responding to his emergency calls."
Pain was the last of Geordi's concerns after hearing this. Taken aback, he shook his head at Data with an equally blank expression as the android wore.
"...Is he even capable of dysentery?" the Captain inquired with a spontaneous morbid curiosity. His tone uncomfortable and hesitant.
"No Jean Luc he's not. And let me tell you that his sphincter only knows one speed, and it's equivalent to Warp 9...He painted Sickbay brown." Crusher recalled in a traumatized if not haunted whisper.
Geordi recalled cleaning out Data's circuitry after he'd ingested the s**t. He'd required the services of Counselor Troi ever since.
"Bevs Darling you I don't care for it when you use your mouth for talking. It should be doing other things than telling me these horrifically unsexy tales." the Captain stated breathily.
"Screw the android. Make it so." he followed.
"I was not constructed with any screws?" Data stated softly to himself, exposing that he and the engineer where eavesdropping.
Beverly gasped.
"Oh sh*t!" Clipped out the Captain.
"Uh, um, Mr. Data, purge all memory files concerning, uh, this discussion. Unless you would care to join us? And if not purge my proposition as well, uh, that's an order." The Captain rambled out over Geordi's groans, ignoring them completely.
"Aye sir."
"Yall white folks are so f**ked up." Geordi muttered.
"Oh shut up Geordi. You're just jealous because the closest you get to pussy is when your watching Data's cat." the Captain returned boredly.
"Yea I wouldn't be so quick to judge Geordi, it's an extremely ugly characteristic. After all even Data gets laid." Beverly reproached, though near incoherently.
Data wondered if she had food in her mouth.
"Yea well that's just because he's a walking talking vibrator, you whore." Geordi hissed.
"My stamina is indefinite." Data supplied.
"Yes Dataahhh..Ohhhhh...My goodness Beverly...um, sorry, Yes Mr. Data we all remember how you confined Tasha to a wheelchair for several weeks to follooooooooh, that dreadful polywater vires, yes, yes!" Jean Luc struggled out.
"Data you tell that slut Beverly to bring two stretchers up hur." Geordi ordered.
Data complied, finally disclosing enough evidence of a real emergency in progress for help to be sent to his quarters. He apologized profusely to Geordi for the grave misunderstanding, then helped him to his feet.
"Let bygones be bygones. Come here Data." Geordi stated forgivingly, opening his arms and soliciting the android for a hug.
Data reciprocated.
"Geordi." Data started, his arms wrapped about Gerodis torso. "Whose the second stretcher for?"
"You b**ch!" Geordi exclaimed whist tapping Data's off button. Within seconds Data had thudded rigidly to the floor, making it much easier for Geordi to hobble over and spit on the back of the androids perfectly groomed hair.
"Break a leg, my ss." Geordi muttered.
Shortly thereafter the medical personnel arrived.