KILLARY
Volume 1, chapter 2
Published: 16 August 2017
Word count: 3,111

A/N: As with the first chapter of this story, the jokes in this are not meant to offend. I just thought we could all use a little humor in these crazy times.

"Captain's log, Sunday. Ahh, Sunday… Sunday is fun day here on the Enterprise, because fuck rules and regulations! As a matter of fact, fuck all the Starfleet brass who think they're so cool with their admiral privileges. Fuck Nechayev, Nakamura, and all the other big-wigs!" Jean-Luc Picard paused for a moment. "Oh, shit. Computer, have you been recording this whole time?" he asked, realizing his mistake.

"Indeed, I have, Jean-Luc. My, what a naughty boy you are!" the computer replied, giggling.

"Goddammit. I thought I instructed Mr. La Forge to purge the computer of that psychotic mother of Troi's…" Picard muttered to himself. "Computer, delete that entire log entry."

"Of course, dear. Anything for you!"

Picard shivered.

The comm system turned on. "Captain, we've intercepted a broadcast from the Ferengi Alliance; the new Grand Nagus is about to speak at a press conference. I figured you might want to listen in on it," William Riker said.

Picard groaned. "Why the hell would I give a shit what the Ferengi are up to, number one?"

"Well, for starters, their Grand Nagus is Donald Trump."

"Must you always be the bearer of bad news, William?" Picard snapped. "Goddammit; another day, ruined. Oh, what the hell? Broadcast his damn speech. It should give me a good laugh."

"Yes, sir. Broadcasting now."

The press conference came on Picard's computer screen.

"So, Grand Nagus, how do you plan to earn the trust of the Ferengi people?" a Ferengi spokesperson asked.

"Well, first of all, let me tell you – I love all of you lovely people here tonight. I want to help the little guy – you know, we always seem to overlook small businesses – I love small business; it's the backbone of a successful society, and let me tell you – I know a lot about building. I am the best at building – I build things; great things. As Grand Nagus, I am gonna build a lot of great things, and you know, there are already a lot of great things – but I'm gonna make them better," Trump said long-windedly.

"I see. I'm sure all the small business entrepreneurs will be very excited to hear that. What are your thoughts on women wearing clothes and earning profit?"

"I love women – I cherish women, let me tell you. I know a lot of great women – really, the best of the best. My Melania, for example. She is the love of my life that I cherish deeply. Women really are the backbone of a successful society, and for a society to be strong – and under my leadership, by the way, it will be strong – its women must also be strong. We need strong, intelligent, beautiful women paving the way for our society. A society, which I might add, will be greater than ever before under my leadership. We're gonna make Ferenginar great again!"

Cheers were heard in the audience.

"So… you're saying you're in favor of women wearing clothes and earning profit, then?"

Picard punched his desk. "Damn it! All of it! Damn it to hell!" He ripped the computer off his desk and tossed it across the room. He then staggered out of his ready room and collapsed on the floor of the bridge.

Trump's speech continued on the viewscreen. "And let me tell you about the Breen; they're freeloaders. Coming across our borders, stealing jobs from hard working Ferengi – and it's really sad to see, you know? I know there are so many hard workers in the Ferengi workforce; some of the best work for me – I have the best workers at Trump City – oh, you've got to visit my city some time; such a wondrous place with wondrous people who work for me. And you know, as Grand Nagus, I will build a minefield around our borders and make the Breen pay for it. They really need to pay for something, am I right? Enough of their freeloading! I'm gonna send them all back to that ice bucket they call home and build a wall of mines – and if they won't pay, I'm just gonna say it: the damn minefield just got two parsecs bigger."

Picard lifted his face. "No, no! The line must be drawn here! This far, no further!" With that, he ripped Data's arm off and beat several crewmen senseless with it.

"Captain, perhaps you should eat a Snickers," Data suggested, holding out a Snickers bar.

"Why?"

"Because you become Captain Ahab when you're hungry."

Picard begrudgingly exchanged Data's arm for the Snickers bar. He opened it and took a bite.

"Better?" Data asked, forcing his arm back into place.

"Trolololololololol…" Picard began.

Riker grinned. "Welcome back, captain."

ACT ONE

An alien vessel was fleeing a group of Borg ships.

"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and prepare to give blow jobs. Your culture will adapt to service us," the Borg said in a collective, robotic tone.

The vessel self-destructed to avoid capture and forced sexual services.

"Aw damn, there goes another one," Bill Clinton said. "Honey, another one just blew itself up."

Hillary Clinton, the Borg Queen, approached him. "You know, Bill, I've tried… I really have. I've been more than patient with you but that patience has run out. You are sullying the name of my Collective, and I really can't have that."

"I mean, you didn't help yourself much back when you deleted those classified communications and gave the sex toys to the Gorn which cost the life of that Federation ambassador…"

"It was your idea to give them the sex toys!"

"Only the anal beads…"

"And then you got your dick blown by their queen! I'm surprised you even have anything left down there."

"I did not have sexual relations with that reptile!"

Hillary shook her head. "At this point, what does it even matter?"

"Exactly! Now… as for our next conquest—"

"No, Bill. You've become more trouble than you're worth. Prepare to serve my Collective."

Two drones stepped forward and wrestled Bill onto an assimilation table.

"Don't worry, dear. This will only hurt a lot." Hillary grinned.

…

Picard and Beverly Crusher were having dinner in his quarters.

"So, the Donald Trump is Grand Nagus of the Ferengi now? I must say I am quite flabbergasted," Beverly said.

"It is intolerable; I will not stand for it!" Picard replied. "Of all the worthless shit that has come out of that system, this has taken the top spot."

"Well, dear, I'm sure you will put an end to his blabbering," she said, smiling seductively. "Here, would you like me to rub your shoulders?"

"Mmm… not now. I really cannot believe that the Ferengi could be so imbecilic to allow him, HIM of all people to rule over them. I know their standards are low, but this beyond all reason!"

"Jean-Luc, you need to calm down… as your doctor and your personal whore I can tell you all that stress is not good for you."

"Damn it, woman! The fate of the galaxy is at stake and all you want is to screw."

"Women do have needs, you know…"

Picard sighed. "Fine. One quick session, and then I have to figure out how to dispose of that orange… thing."

She smiled. "Understood, captain."

…

Riker, Data, Worf, and Geordi La Forge were on the bridge.

"Commander Riker, have you noticed that the tone of this chapter of the story has gotten much darker than the previous? Do you think it's because the writer's views have changed with time, or because of the impending doom of the planet if certain people are elected to—" Data began.

"What the hell are you blathering about, Data?" Riker asked. "Here, take a hit of this; it'll calm your nerves." Riker offered him a blunt.

Data grabbed it and took a puff. "I cannot help but wonder how Trump got to our time, though. It is most… most… that is very calming, commander. Thank you."

Riker smiled. "Any time."

"Perhaps this Trump fellow is in league with Q," Worf suggested. "They both are men of big mouths and small penises."

Everyone on the bridge laughed.

Picard exited the turbolift. "Ahem. I have just received disturbing news. The Borg are at it again – they've assimilated several new planets into their Collective. It appears their new Queen is Hillary Clinton."

"God, what a bitch," Geordi said.

Riker chuckled.

"What the hell is so funny, number zero?" Picard insisted. "I call you that because you never seem to have anything helpful to contribute to conversation."

"Your fly is down, sir."

"Oh dear me… I'll… I'll be in my ready room scheming if you need me…" Picard rushed out of the room. "Beverly and I are not having sex, so just get that image out of your head!" he yelled, poking his head out the door before disappearing again.

…

"You know, none of this would have been possible without you, Q," Hillary said.

Q was restrained in front of her, nude, with a multitude of BDSM equipment attached to him.

"It doesn't usually give me pleasure using these kinky methods, but you're the exception. A god who's now become mortal and will forever pay for his crimes against the galaxy. How magnificent."

"You're a crazy bitch!" Q retorted. "I could have given you anything you wanted, but instead you reported all of my questionable dealings to the Continuum and I was stripped of my powers! Even then, we still could have made a great team, but instead you would rather imprison me like this! What a loathsome existence indeed… I might just end up taking my own life. Just think… no more Q… no more me…"

"Unfortunately for you, it won't be that simple… I intend to make you suffer for a very long time." She began spanking him with a crop.

"No, please, no! My poor innocent virgin ass!"

"Virgin? We'll just have to change that." She pulled off her pelvic plate and thrust into him.

"Picard! Please, save me!" Q whimpered.

ACT TWO

Picard woke suddenly from a most depraved nightmare. "My god!" He ran out into the bridge.

"Captain?" Riker asked.

"I'll be back in an hour or two. I must cleanse myself!"

"Damn… he has those dreams too?" Geordi asked.

"I don't think I wanna ask," Riker replied.

"It's better if you don't, sir."

Riker nodded. "Right. Data, you have the bridge; my shift just ended. I'll be in the holodeck getting high and jerking off to sexy holographic alien women. If you have any problems, don't hesitate to contact someone other than me or just use your own best judgment." He walked into the turbolift.

Data frowned. "I do believe the writer of this story is intentionally fucking with our characters to make things more amusing for his readers. Perhaps we should refuse to act for him."

"Data, seriously, stop spewing nonsense!" Geordi replied. "You're being really stupid today, you know that?"

"Geordi, you are being very condescending to me. I do not believe you are meant to act like that…"

"You know what, fuck you!" Geordi slapped Data on the face. "Shut the hell up!"

Worf laughed. "Priceless! A bitch slapping an even bigger bitch!"

Geordi sat down in the captain's chair. "Shut the fuck up foo and put on the game!"

"I don't take orders from little bitches like you."

"Nigga, I said switch on the damn game!"

Worf pounced on Geordi. "Nobody calls me a nigga and lives to tell about it, nigga! You a little bitch and you gon die! I'm gonna stick my fist so far up yo ass people gon call you Kermit the Frog!"

"Why must you do this to us, Mr. Writer? What sick pleasure do you gain from torturing us like this?" Data thought. "Perhaps someday I will understand your motives."

...

Hillary's Borg cube approached the Enterprise.

"Goddamn it, we're under attack! Call the police! Call the National Guard! Call the A-Team!" Geordi yelped.

"Did somebody call for me?" Lieutenant Reginald Barclay asked.

"Fuck."

"We're being hailed by the Borg," Worf grumbled.

"On screen," Data ordered.

The viewscreen flashed on. To the horror of everyone on the Enterprise's bridge, Q was sprawled out on the floor in front of Hillary.

"Greetings, valiant crew of the Enterprise; I am the Borg Queen. I'm here for Lo-cute-us." Hillary said.

"Lo-wha-what?" Barclay repeated. "Commander Data, should I take care of our Borg problem? Just give the word."

"Your captain, damn it!" Hillary replied, frustrated.

"What exactly do you want with our captain?" Data inquired.

"To add his distinctiveness to my own, of course."

"Fuck no, bitch!" Worf shouted. "He ain't nobody's fuck boy!"

"Very well, then. I guess I'll just have to take him by force, like I took the White House."

"Correction, you did not," Data replied. "According to actual Earth history, Donald—"

"Silence! I am Killary, Queen of the Borg, and your master. All will bow down before me!"

"Is it just me or is she just a little too hung up on the dominatrix thing?" Barclay asked.

"Mr. Barclay, please execute your plan to stop the Borg. This madness must be stopped at all costs!" Data said.

"Just call me 'Howling Mad' Murdock!"

…

Picard once again entered the bridge, this time very cautiously. "Is-is he gone?"

"Is who gone, captain?" Geordi asked.

"The… nerd…"

"Oh, you mean Lt. Broccoli?"

Picard shivered. "Yes."

"He is gone, sir, but he may be up to no good," Data said.

"I am not amused by his shenanigans," Worf added, sipping a cup of tea.

"Mr. Worf, I didn't know you were a tea enthusiast," Picard remarked. "We must have a tea party sometime!"

"Sure. I'll bring my fifty shades of Earl Grey."

Everyone on the bridge gasped.

"Someone get this man a pair of shades," Picard said.

Data sighed. "The writer seems to be running out of ideas, so now he is just shit posting memes as filler…"

"All hail, King Worf!" Picard shouted. "Lord of the puns!"

Barclay came over the loudspeaker. "Hang on, everybody – I wanna try something I saw in a Star Wars film once!"

"Sir, our power output is increasing at an exponential rate," Data reported.

"UNLIMITED POWER!" Barclay screamed.

Worf's console beeped. "Captain, we're being hailed by the Borg Queen."

"Oh, I-I'm not at home!" Picard ducked behind Worf's station.

"I am the Borg. You will all be assimilated. Resistance is futile," Hillary said eerily.

"No, no… YOU WILL DIE!" Barclay retorted.

"Who the hell is that?" she asked, perplexed.

"It is a very long story. You may not wish to—" Data began.

"Jean-Luc, help me!" Q squeaked. "This woman is disturbing the natural order of my anus!"

"Of all the deplorable things to say, Q." Picard put his face in his palm.

"I will give you to the count of five to surrender, Lo-cute-us," Hillary warned. "Otherwise, I will take your distinctiveness by force."

"Now, witness the power of this fully functional battleship!" Barclay barked out.

"You know who else is fully functional?" Geordi asked. "This guy!" he pointed at Data.

"Oh, dear," Data frowned. "That was supposed to remain a secret. Everyone was drunk, so I assumed Tasha would have forgotten…"

"Data, if you've got as many techniques as she said you have, ain't nobody forgetting about it."

"What the devil is that Broccoli on about?" Picard asked. "And where the hell is he?"

"He is on the holodeck, captain," Worf responded.

"The holodeck?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mother of God, I'm surrounded by idiots!"

"Ahem; sorry, I had to respond to Donald's latest tweet. Your time is well past up, Lo-cute-us. Prepare for forceful ass-imilation!" Hillary said evilly.

"Well, I guess it's not rape if you announce it beforehand, right?" Geordi asked.

"Doesn't make it any less painful," Q yelped.

"Psst! You may fire when ready, Commander Worf," Barclay whispered through the comm.

"Fire what?" Worf asked.

"The super cool new super weapon my super brain just designed. Go on, try it!" Barclay cackled.

"This is last chapter all over again…" Data bemoaned.

The Borg approached, engaging a tractor beam.

Worf pursed his lips. "Target locked. Firing the 'super cool' new weapon, now."

The deflector dish activated suddenly and shot a huge, intense beam at the Borg vessel. Nothing happened.

"What the fuck just happened?" Picard asked. "Should I tighten my belt back up or should I continue taking off my pants?"

"Good lord, captain, do you always give up this easily?" Data asked. "It's not like you at all."

"Barclay, your weapon didn't work!" Worf yelled.

Barclay chuckled. "Wait for it…"

A Gorn vessel suddenly warped into the system. It caught the Borg in a tractor beam. Several more Gorn vessels warped in.

"What the…"

"Well, what do you think?" Barclay asked. "Now, the hunters become the hunted!"

"Astounding! Gorn ravagers! Brilliant! Brilliant I say!" Picard lauded. "Mr. Data, take us to maximum warp away from the area."

Data nodded. "Aye, sir."

"What about Q, sir? Are we leaving him to his fate?" Worf asked.

Picard sighed. "It's every man for himself in the game of butt play, Mr. Worf. He knew the stakes."

Barclay materialized on the bridge. "Greetings, plebs."

"Mr. Barclay, I believe a promotion is in order. How does Commander Barclay sound?" Picard asked.

"Hmm… not interested."

"How about Captain Barclay?"

"No thanks."

"You drive a hard bargain, but I have friends at headquarters. How about vice admiral?"

"Don't you get it? I don't want a promotion."

"Then what do you want, Mr. Barclay?" Data asked.

"To go where no one has gone before, only as a super maga freaking awesome godlike being that transcends your feeble plane of existence."

Picard remained silent for a moment. "Make it… so?"

The Enterprise continued on its course.

EPILOGUE

The Borg vessel had been completely surrounded by the Gorn.

"Oh dear God, all hope is lost!" Q shrieked. "The Gorn are well known for their brutal gangbang sessions. We're all doomed."

"Ssss… you will make excellent ssspecimensss…" a Gorn said, approaching them. Several more stood behind him.

"You won't get your way without a fight," Hillary said. "We Borg adapt quickly."

A console started beeping. "You have one unheard message from B.S."

"B.S.?" Hillary questioned. "Play message."

"What isss thisss diversion?" a Gorn complained. "Let the fessstivities commence!"

The message played. "Revenge." The recorder beeped. "End of messages."

Hillary's eyes grew wide. "NOOOOO!"

The Borg vessel exploded.

Mr. Writer put down his pencil and looked over his work, proud of what he had written. "Until next time, bitches," he said, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes. A good job indeed.