Just a Star Trek parody I'm doing to get some creative thought flowing and hopefully remove the block on my other story. Warning: random humor.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine!!

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Captain Kirk stepped briskly from the turbo lift onto the bridge of the Enterprise wearing the usual tight-fitted, gold command top and Starfleet issue black pants that never seemed to attract fuzz and was apparently resistant to any non-plot related staining.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" he shouted, smiling a charismatic Kirk-smile that caught the light and gave a brief sparkle which, oddly enough, glinted just as a high pitch "ping" sounded from a nearby station.

Mr. Spock turned from his work at the science station to look at the captain, "Sir, it is highly illogical that you would wish the bridge crew a pleasant yuletide holiday. Firstly, it is June and as I recall you Earthmen celebrate Christmas in December. Secondly, you're Jewish."

"Actually," Kirk retorted with a smirk, "my character's religion hasn't been established in the mainstream, series canon. If I don't want to be Jewish, I don't have to be!"

"Canon, Captain?" Spock inquired. "You know, Leonard, canon. The show hasn't specifically identified or explored –"

"I don't know what you mean, sir!" Spock interrupted quickly then lowered his voice and the façade to whisper frantically to his fellow actor, "He's right over there! Are you crazy? You can't break scene in front of him!!"

The two actors gave a quick glance off to the edge of the set: standing there, just out of view from the camera, stood Gene Roddenberry holding a bull whip in one hand, Shatner and Nimoy's contracts in the other, and wearing a T-shirt that read "I own your souls!"

The two gave a brief shudder before falling back into character.

"Yes, Mr. Spock, well I've always maintained that to… achieve… true… peace and understanding, we must first honor each other's customs. Besides, Christmas isn't just a date on a calendar, so long as you carry the spirit of the Holidays with you Christmas can be everyday," he finished with twinkling eyes.

Spock wasn't buying it. In fact, he was now browsing the large cardboard box that Kirk had left behind in the turbo lift. Spock turned sharply to his friend, "Captain, might I inquire as to why you've brought a box of red engineering uniforms with you? And, if you please, ask if your reason has any correlation with the fact that we will be beaming down onto a particularly hostile planet to make first contact with a race known for not-killing a strange leader if and only if he is accompanied by several men in red shirts?"

Chekov turned from his station, "What did he say?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" Kirk replied hurriedly, "Merry Christmas, Pavel. Here have a shirt."

"Thank you, sir!" the ensign replied as he pulled the cursed red top over his head. Kirk walked to the first officer, laughing, "Of course not, Spock. I mean, how could you suggest I'm willing to sacrifice my crew for my own safely, ha ha."

But he leaned close to whisper into Spock's ear, dead serious, "Now you shut up or you'll be wearing one when we beam down, too!"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow then asked innocently, "Shut up about what, sir?"

"Good, Mr. Spock, very good. You hang onto that ignorance if you know what's good for you," and with that the two returned to their respective stations.

ooo

Twenty minutes later, Kirk had distributed the remaining uniforms in his "Christmas" box leaving only he and Mr. Spock out of the red. The Captain sat in his chair occasionally trying out a new awkward pose, while the rest of the bridge crew poked randomly at the multi colored buttons before them and Spock looked at a flashing blue light in the black contraption at his station.

It was then that Scotty came onto the bridge, a PADD in hand: "Captain, I've got here the monthly 'Redshirt Body Count Total.'"

"Why are you bringing it?"

"Well, sir, the yeoman that was supposed to give it to you for approval was a redshirt herself. And, well, you know how it is with those people: always getting shot or caught in an avalanche or spontaneously combusting…"

After noting the look in Kirk's eyes he clarified, "She was attacked by radioactive snakes on deck three, sir. Never had a chance."

Kirk stood dramatically, "No! No! Not… what's-her-name. I loved her, Scotty. She was the woman for me – this week anyway. Oh! What… will… I… do… my friend… I… can't live without her." But just then female extra number three walked past and Kirk straightened his shirt before going over to woo said extra.

Spock sighed imperceptivity from his station before assuming the Captain's chair while Kirk was "indisposed," or at least, that's what they would later tell Starfleet. He then paged sickbay.

"Doctor McCoy, could you check to see if the Captain has anymore Starfleet issue contraceptives left in his monthly shipment from the Federation?"

"Nope, not a one," the Doctor replied next to Spock's arm. Spock raised a brow before closing the communication to the medical bay. He'd learned long ago not to ask how or why McCoy always seemed to pop up on the bridge out of nowhere, so instead he just lapsed into a respectable silence.

Scotty, however, did not spend as much time on the bridge as the Science Officer and asked, "How in the blazes did you get here without us noticing?"

After taking a sip from the mint julep in his hand he answered, "Hmm, you know? I'm not entirely sure."

"Well then why are you drinking? Aren't you on duty?"

"Hey! My daddy drank every single day he practiced medicine and so do I!"

"Well then why are you here?! There are over 400 people on this ship! At least one of them has got to be sick! Why aren't you 'practicing medicine' on one of them?"

"Dammit Scott, I'm just an old country doctor!"

Exasperated, Scotty left the bridge in a huff. "Well played, Doctor," Spock offered.

"Shut up, you pointy-eared, Keebler Elf wannabe!"

Spock was ready with a coolly logical response when he was interrupted by a squeal from a darkened corner of the bridge. The Captain and female extra number three had retreated there for some necking.

"Oh, no you don't!" McCoy stormed, stomping over to them and grabbing Kirk by the scruff of his neck to drag him back to the center seat.

"Bones, what do you think you are doing??"

"Jim, you can't afford yet another illegitimate child! They're already siphoning off eighty percent of your annual salary to pay the child support for the last… um, how many is it now, Leprechaun?"

Spock, mustering as much dignity he could in face of the Doctor's casual insult, answered, "Twelve, not counting the four pending the return of DNA tests, Doctor."

"Yeah, so lay off!" McCoy snarled. "It's okay, fellas," Kirk replied airily, "I'll just –"

"You used the last one last night, Jim," the Doctor stated, knowing what his friend was about to counter with. "But… but…" Jim stuttered, "They said they'd provide me with everything I needed! They said they were tired of having to employ a lawyer just to argue over child support checks on my behalf!"

"Well Jim, it's apparent that they can't make 'em fast enough for you to use 'em," McCoy stated.

Kirk sighed then turned to female extra number three, dejectedly shook his head dismissing her.

"This is gonna be a long month," he muttered darkly to himself as he sank down into the command chair Spock had just evacuated.

"Keptin, approaching atmosphere of the planet Alotlikeearthbutalittledifferent. Projected time of arrival five minutes, sir," Chekov suddenly announced.

Kirk lifted his head hopefully, but McCoy shot him down, "No, Jim, even the scantly clad alien bimbos of this planet know what a paternity suit is." Kirk's head bowed down again in defeat.

"Prepare the landing party," he ordered, turning to Spock, "Myself, you, Dr. McCoy, Ensign Chekov, and, um, those two guys in the red at that station there," he said pointing. One jumped to his feet at once to address the Captain, "B-but sir! You've given us all red shirts! You can send anyone you'd like! Please, please send someone else in my stead," the crewman begged.

Kirk pulled out a phaser and vaporized the man on the spot. This action went unquestioned anyone on the bridge. "Let's see. Oh, just pick one yourself, Spock, surprise me!" he said waving his hand vaguely.

"Yes, sir," the Vulcan replied before turning on his heel to leave the bridge and prepare the poor souls – oops, to prepare the landing party for departure.

ooo

Kirk and McCoy met Spock, Chekov (still sporting a red shirt), and three other nameless personnel in the transporter room.

"'Kay, let's do this thang!" Kirk shouted as they stood waiting on the transporter pad. Scotty stared at him blankly from the controlling mechanism. Kirk hissed in annoyance, "Just beam us out, Scotty!"

In a moment they materialized on the surface of a planet filled with obviously fake vegetation and a painted sky background. Kirk checked in with his ship to confirm a smooth trip, then closed the connection and turned to his First Officer to find that he too had his communicator out.

"Spock, you don't need to do that. I've already checked in with the ship."

Spock looked up, "Oh, no, sir. I wasn't contacting the ship."

"Then… what were you doing?"

"Twittering, sir. If I don't keep up with my Tweets I'll lose my followers; and I think that logically they would enjoy hearing about this plastic shrubbery here," he said indicating a too-green, shiny bush beside him.

Behind Kirk, McCoy muttered quietly, "'Followers.' Heh! All he's got is a legion of mindless fangirls obsessed with his freakishly malformed ears!"

"What was that, Doctor?" Spock asked politely. "Oh, nothing, nothing…"

ooo

It wasn't long before the redshirts were picked off to just Chekov. Redshirt one had bent down to tie his shoelaces when a monstrous bird swooped down and snatched him up to feed to her young. Redshirt two was just minding his own business when a meteor fell out of the sky at random and crushed his body into the ground. As for reshirt three, he was so jittery about his fellows' untimely ends and knowing that he was next, that he kept wringing his shirt in his hands. This annoyed the Captain to no end so he pushed the nervous man to his death off the first cliff the remainder of the landing party had found.

"Captain, at this rate we'll have met our quota for Redshirt Body Counts, and will not require to send any away on missions for an entire month," Spock remarked to his friend.

"Yes, but, then where would the fun be in our little out-and-abouts?" Kirk asked idly. Spock, McCoy, and Chekov nodded in agreement.

Then suddenly, they were ambushed by the natives all sporting Styrofoam spears. Without a proper amount of red-clad party members to distract them, Kirk was a dead man. In a moment of inspiration Kirk picked up Chekov and threw him into their midst then whipped out his communicator and demanded an immediate beam out for he and his two friends.

Again the three stood on the transporter pad. "Welcome back aboard, sir," Scott sounded from the controls. "Yes, it's good to be back, Scotty."

"Captain," Spock asked Kirk in a very off-hand manner as they made their way back to the bridge, "what of Ensign Chekov? Won't we be going back for him as he is not technically a redshirt and is a recurrent character?"

"Spock, Spock. All these years in space and you still haven't learned," Jim laughed. As they stepped onto the bridge they found a battered and bruised, but very much alive and present, Pavel Chekov sitting at his station.

Spock turned to his Captain and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Spock," his friend answered the unspoken question, "it's television, it doesn't have to make sense!"

And with the entire bridge crew laughing – with the exception of Spock, of course – the valiant crew of the Starship Enterprise flew into the distant stars at warp speed.

Queue credits and funky theme song!!!

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Well that's it, folks! Ta-ta!