A Federation Fable
by Brenda Shaffer-Shiring
Back in the early days of the fifth starship Enterprise (NCC-1701-D), there was a first officer named William Riker. Now, Will Riker was a handsome man in most respects, with bright blue eyes, an engaging (never you mind, engaging in what) smile, and beautifully-developed shoulders and pectoral muscles. He was, in fact, a fine figure of a first officer in every way but one. No, not in that he looked like Anson Williams of "Happy Days" notoriety. (Nobody on the ship had ever seen "Happy Days" anyway, so they wouldn't have noticed the resemblance.) His problem was that he had something of a tendency to overweight.
In due course, this unhappy tendency was noted by the beauteous ship's doctor, Beverly Crusher (whom, one suspects, gained that somewhat disturbing name for her habit of strong-arming reluctant patients into Sickbay), who placed our handsome Mister Riker on a diet.
Well, the beauteous ship's doctor, being after all trained medical personnel and therefore bright enough to check replicator logs, noticed after a week or two that handsome Mister Riker appeared to be cheating on his menu plan. Rather than forcibly restrict his replicator access, she decided to shame him into complying with his new menu by making him step up on a scale once a week, right before his first shift of bridge duty.
While so doing, the beauteous Crusher (which only sounds like an oxymoron until you look at the lady), noticed that some other members of the bridge crew appeared to be experiencing some problems maintaining their proper weights. Voluptuous Counselor Troi, for example, was the unhappy possessor of what the uncharitable might (and did) refer to as a major butt. On the other end of the spectrum, stalwart Captain Picard bore rather an unfortunate resemblance to the poster-guy for the galactic anti-anorexic society.
So it came to pass that every member of the bridge crew received a special menu plan. While voluptuous Counselor Troi joined handsome Mr. Riker at the Ten-Forward salad bar (official slogan: "Lettuce entertain you"), stalwart Captain Picard received extensive instruction in chocolate appreciation. Proud warrior Worf's menu was based substantially on red meat, possibly because the dietician had actually discussed the menu plan face-to-face with him, as in "How do you expect me to carry on a conversation with you, Lieutenant, when your hands are around my throat?"
The ingenuous Data, alone of all the bridge crew, did not need to adopt a special menu plan. As an android, he could of course adjust his metabolic rate to whatever level he chose, an ability which had the unfortunate tendency to prompt murderous envy in any fellow crewmate to whom he confessed it. However, in his eagerness to explore the "diet" aspect of human existence, the ingenuous officer decided to try switching from 10W40 oil to 10W30.
Before every week's first duty shift, every member of the bridge crew had to step up on a scale so that beauteous Doctor Crusher could check their weights.
Stalwart Captain Picard, who had long (and longingly) craved our beauteous doctor's attentions but not in the particular fashion in which he was currently receiving them, and who knew besides that the instigation of this bothersome weight-monitoring program was all his handsome first officer's fault, complained about the handsome Riker and the annoying program one day as he was standing on the scales. Beauteous Doctor Crusher, making an efficient note of the stalwart captain's actual weight as compared to his goal weight (and, of course, noting the trim tight curve of his backside as she did so. No need for him to put on weight there, no sirree), simply shrugged and told him he could expect nothing else.
"After all, Jean-Luc," she said philosophically, "everyone knows that where there's a Will there's a weigh."
-END-
by Brenda Shaffer-Shiring
Back in the early days of the fifth starship Enterprise (NCC-1701-D), there was a first officer named William Riker. Now, Will Riker was a handsome man in most respects, with bright blue eyes, an engaging (never you mind, engaging in what) smile, and beautifully-developed shoulders and pectoral muscles. He was, in fact, a fine figure of a first officer in every way but one. No, not in that he looked like Anson Williams of "Happy Days" notoriety. (Nobody on the ship had ever seen "Happy Days" anyway, so they wouldn't have noticed the resemblance.) His problem was that he had something of a tendency to overweight.
In due course, this unhappy tendency was noted by the beauteous ship's doctor, Beverly Crusher (whom, one suspects, gained that somewhat disturbing name for her habit of strong-arming reluctant patients into Sickbay), who placed our handsome Mister Riker on a diet.
Well, the beauteous ship's doctor, being after all trained medical personnel and therefore bright enough to check replicator logs, noticed after a week or two that handsome Mister Riker appeared to be cheating on his menu plan. Rather than forcibly restrict his replicator access, she decided to shame him into complying with his new menu by making him step up on a scale once a week, right before his first shift of bridge duty.
While so doing, the beauteous Crusher (which only sounds like an oxymoron until you look at the lady), noticed that some other members of the bridge crew appeared to be experiencing some problems maintaining their proper weights. Voluptuous Counselor Troi, for example, was the unhappy possessor of what the uncharitable might (and did) refer to as a major butt. On the other end of the spectrum, stalwart Captain Picard bore rather an unfortunate resemblance to the poster-guy for the galactic anti-anorexic society.
So it came to pass that every member of the bridge crew received a special menu plan. While voluptuous Counselor Troi joined handsome Mr. Riker at the Ten-Forward salad bar (official slogan: "Lettuce entertain you"), stalwart Captain Picard received extensive instruction in chocolate appreciation. Proud warrior Worf's menu was based substantially on red meat, possibly because the dietician had actually discussed the menu plan face-to-face with him, as in "How do you expect me to carry on a conversation with you, Lieutenant, when your hands are around my throat?"
The ingenuous Data, alone of all the bridge crew, did not need to adopt a special menu plan. As an android, he could of course adjust his metabolic rate to whatever level he chose, an ability which had the unfortunate tendency to prompt murderous envy in any fellow crewmate to whom he confessed it. However, in his eagerness to explore the "diet" aspect of human existence, the ingenuous officer decided to try switching from 10W40 oil to 10W30.
Before every week's first duty shift, every member of the bridge crew had to step up on a scale so that beauteous Doctor Crusher could check their weights.
Stalwart Captain Picard, who had long (and longingly) craved our beauteous doctor's attentions but not in the particular fashion in which he was currently receiving them, and who knew besides that the instigation of this bothersome weight-monitoring program was all his handsome first officer's fault, complained about the handsome Riker and the annoying program one day as he was standing on the scales. Beauteous Doctor Crusher, making an efficient note of the stalwart captain's actual weight as compared to his goal weight (and, of course, noting the trim tight curve of his backside as she did so. No need for him to put on weight there, no sirree), simply shrugged and told him he could expect nothing else.
"After all, Jean-Luc," she said philosophically, "everyone knows that where there's a Will there's a weigh."
-END-