AN: This is utter crack. I am also aware that many, many rebooted versions of The Trouble With Tribbles have been written, but this is my take. I'm yet to see the episode, so everything is from Memory Alpha.

A parcel is beamed aboard the Enterprise, addressed to Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott. There are several labels attached, including an apology that it took so long to get hold of him, a return address stating that it comes from the officer who relieved him at Delta Vega and a label that indicates whatever inside is fragile and unknown.

Scotty takes one look at the package and exclaims gleefully. He races to his quarters and tears off the wrapping, revealing what appears to be a ball of fluff in a cage. He'd been very worried that he would never see it again; after all, Starfleet didn't know a thing about it. Scotty had been sold it by this strange fellow who'd landed on Delta Vega a month into his exile, who called himself Cyrano Jones.

'Finally I get to see you again, you adorable wee thing!'

The tribble emits a soothing purring sound. Scotty pokes some food through the cage, and leaves for his shift. He had been so worried on Delta Vega that it would die; there'd been no food to spare for it, but it seemed to do fine.

Later, he returns to find the cage full of lots of little tribbles, all purring. He didn't know that his tribble was pregnant, so he takes the now-crowded cage down to Sickbay. Doctor McCoy takes one of the tribbles to be examined, and comes to some startling conclusions.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Crew are entranced by these adorable little creatures.

'I never thought I'd say this, but they're more adorable than Chekov!'

'Aren't they cute?'

'Can I have one, Mr Scott?'

'Perhaps zey are from Russia.'

'Pavel, they can't be from Russia. They are an alien life form.'

'You newer know.'

'It's trilling seems to have a tranquilizing effect on the human nervous system. Fortunately, of course, I am immune to its effects.'

Uhura smiles and rolls her eyes. Her bondmate can be extremely irrational sometimes.

'Spock, you're stroking one.'

The Crew insist on feeding and petting these adorable balls of fluff. Unfortunately, everyone is so preoccupied with the adorable tribbles that they do not notice how rapidly they are multiplying, something that Doctor McCoy was worried about.

'Damn it, you've got to get rid of those things!'

Doctor McCoy bursts in to the Rec Room, where everyone is petting and feeding tribbles, who are beginning to cover every available surface.

'But they're so cute!'

'No way, Doctor!'

'Do you know what you get when you feed a tribble too much?'

'A fat tribble?'

'No. You get a bunch of hungry little tribbles.'

Silence. The tribbles continue to purr.

'That could be a problem.'

'We could jettison them out to space.'

That suggestion does not go down well. The tribbles are just so cute; no one wants to kill them.

'We could simply not feed them, then they won't multiply.'

'But then they'd die! And it's too hard to not feed them or keep them away from food!'

'We could eat them.'

That causes further outcry. Tribbles are just too adorable to eat.

'Captain, I believe that the Crew have been emotionally compromised.'

'Yes, they have, Spock. I guess we can't really do anything about the tribbles.'

'Captain, if they continue to multiply-'

'They're harmless, Spock. Eventually, the novelty will wear off, and the Crew will stop feeding them.'

But the novelty doesn't wear off, and just 24 hours later, the tribbles are everywhere.

The tribbles really are everywhere, including the replicators. A hungry Kirk punches in his order, only to find that he receives a tribble sandwich with extra tribble and a cup of tribble. He's not happy.

'My chicken sandwich and coffee. This is my chicken sandwich and coffee.'

If Spock were human, he would be rolling on the floor with laughter.
'Fascinating.'

Kirk glares at this First Officer, and stalks off to the Bridge.

'Captain! The wee buggers have gotten into all of the equipment! Engineering is full of wee balls of adorable fluff!'

This, of course, does nothing to lighten his mood, which worsens as he finds his Captain's Chair full of tribbles.

'That does it. Chekov, make a ship wide announcement. I'm ordering everyone to round up the tribbles.'

So the Enterprise Crew, one of Starfleet's finest, spend their time rounding up multiplying balls of fluff. Yeoman Rand realizes that the next report to Starfleet is going to be extremely difficult to write.

'Captain, when all the tribbles are captured, how are we to dispose of them?'

'That's a good point Spock. Anyone got any ideas?'

'Ve could dump zem on an uninhabited planet.'

Trying to find an uninhabited planet where the native life forms won't react to the tribbles could be a problem.

'We could send them to Starfleet for examination.'

Spock disagrees.

'Ensign Johnson, though that would be standard procedure, in this case, as the tribbles have already been thoroughly examined by Doctor McCoy, that is not necessary.'

'Spock's right. Anyway, the Admirals won't like a large delivery of tribbles. I don't think that Admiral Archer has forgiven me for getting Scotty off Delta Vega.'

'Aye, Captain, I don't think he has. There's this theory I've been working on, beaming from one moving object to another moving object at warp speed. I was going to use a grapefruit-'

'You can use the tribbles.'

'Thanks, Captain, ask the Crew to put the wee things in the Transporter.'

'Vell, Mr Scott, you have chosen better test subject zis time. Admiral Archer von't throw a fit. Has ze beagle reappeared yet?'

'Oh shut up lad! I didn't use Captain Kirk and Sulu as guinea pigs!'

'I saved zere lives-'

'Can we get rid of those tribbles yet?'

'Aye, Captain. Transporter ready.'

The Transporter fires up and the tribbles disappear, off the Enterprise for good.

'Well, at least the Crew aren't going to suffer cuteness withdrawal. Thank God we've got our own almost-as-adorable, much more useful human tribble aboard.'

The Crew smiles and Chekov puts his head in his hands.

'I miss ze tribbles already.'

'We'd better damn hope that you don't multiply as quickly. I'm making sure that you get your shots, kid.'

'Doctor!'

A mortified Ensign with a bright red face is sitting at his station, valiantly trying to concentrate on work. Kirk judges that his youngest crewmember has been embarrassed enough.

'Scotty, where did you send those tribbles?'

'Well, if my calculations were correct, they're in the Engine Room of a Klingon Bird of Prey.'

'Good work Scotty, good work.'

Yeoman Rand bursts in, arms full of PADDs, hair falling out of her beehive.

'Captain, how are you supposed to write the next report to Starfleet? How can we explain?'

Jim Kirk grins.

'Easy, Janice. We'll tell them about the trouble with tribbles.'

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.