A/N-- Soo, how's that for a quick update, eh?

thanks very much to Fishey_Me ('cause I forgot last chapter) for prodding me to write another parody, in particular this episode, and for her witty title suggestions, though I used my own lame one instead.

and thanks to my reviewers! and to whomever was '2lazy2signin', I'm glad I could convert you, at least long enough to enjoy a chapter. Mwa ha hahaha.

Hands up, who loves Trelane?! I kept most of his lines intact, because he does an excellent job on his own of discomfiting our dear Captain and his crew...

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Chapter Two

Spock's ship log: "Stardate 2124.5, 1st officer Spock reporting for Captain James Kirk."

From offstage we hear Kirk cursing. "T! James T. Kirk!"

Spock harrumphs, then continues. "We are orbiting the strange planet, and have been for four hours, making every possible instrument sweep, even using Mr. Radar. I have placed the ship on Red alert, successfully removing all 'coffee' from the bridge, as last time we were engaged in a confrontation, five individuals were sent to sickbay with burns."

A blue-shirt is in Sulu's seat, with Spock standing over him. DeSalle sulks. McCoy and Scotty enter and flank Spock. Notice you cannot see their hands.

"Ah, Mr. Scott. I'd recognize that right hand anywhere," Spock says, straightening.

"We searched the ship from stem to stern, sir, no sign of him."

"Did you check the women's showers, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, I checked 'em meself, sir, twice. Lots of lovely lassies, but no Captain."

Spock frowns. "Hmm, that isunusual. Continue sensor sweeps of the planet. Lieutenant Uhura, have you checked all the New Wave bands?" He walks over to the Big Chair, leaving McCoy behind him, looking as though he's facing a dilemma; Spock or Kirk?

Uhura takes her headphones off. "All of them, sir. Moving on to Soft Rock now." The entire bridge groans in sympathy.

"With permission, sir!" DeSalle says quickly. "To go down with a search party on the planet, sir. I just don't think I can take the Soft Rock!"

"Yes, Spock, what are we waiting for?" McCoy says suddenly.

"It will be my decision, Doctor," Spock says with a smirk. "Mr. Jaeger-meister-meister-burger, what are your geophysical…findings for below?"

Jaeger grins and settles himself back in the seat. He looks Spock over. "Extremely hot, er, atmosphere, sir, swept by…tornadic storms." He winks. "Continuous…volcanic…eruptions."

"Hmm…estimated survival time of two…unprotected…individuals down there?"

"Well, sir, you should *always* use protection, but I would say…not very long." He makes bedroom eyes.

Spock raises his eyebrow. "Is that a promise, Mr. Jaeger?"

AllyP: *gags*

McCoy scowls possessively.

DeSalle glares over at Jaeger, his jealousy painfully transparent.

Uhura, sensing a massive catfight about to break out among the men, quickly diverts their attention. "Mr. Spock, look!"

On the screen above her, words are appearing.

" 'Greetings and fella—er—felicitations'," Spock reads aloud, coming to stand behind the Lieutenant. "Hmm…send something appropriate back, Lt."

Uhura starts to type, but then the screen changes again.

" 'Hip…Hip…Hoorah'?" Spock reads, puzzled. The bridge crew snicker at the logical Mr. Spock saying such things. "And, I believe it is pronounced…'Tally-ho'."

McCoy tries to stifle his smirk as Spock turns around.

"A joke, sir?" DeSalle says quickly.

"I'll entertain any…theories, Mr. DeSalle." Spock says. He sits, satisfied, in the Big Chair, causing the off-screen Kirk to throw a fit.

"Kiss-up," Jaeger mutters at DeSalle under his breath.

"One thing's for sure, there's life down there, and it sounds British!" McCoy says firmly, looking around for his coffee.

"Quite correct, Doctor," Spock sighs heavily. "Unfortunate."

Scotty jumps over (literally, it's like a leaping gazelle!) "Request to go on the search party, sir!"

"No, Mr. Scott. Neither you nor I can be spared here."

All the crew turns and stares.

"But sir," says Uhura, "isn't that violating the unstated law of the ship?"

Spock ignores her. "For once, Logic will prevail on this nonsensical series. Mr. DeSalle, you will equip the landing party. Keep in mind that you will be rescuing Captain Kirk, so bring plenty of protection, if you take my meaning. Mr. Jaeger, you too, and Dr. McCoy will accompany."

Bones curses inwardly. Now he's lost his chance at the first officer!

"Dismissed," Spock says quickly. He needs them off the ship now, so he can try on his swishy commodore hat without anyone seeing!

The search party makes their way to the transporter room, crewmembers clapping DeSalle and Jaeger on the back in sympathy. Many 'good luck's are heard. Uhura quickly radios intership for the funeral arrangements.

Spock equips them for the volcanic, acidic, tornado-y planet by giving them little face masks and a laser beacon.

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The landing party beams down to the planet's surface, to discover a nicely landscaped lawn, with neatly arranged trees, some shrubberies and a small fence with a nice little path running down the middle to give a two-level effect. They look around, startled, and DeSalle realizes suddenly that he is the only one wearing red. "Aww, shit," he mutters.

"Where're your storms, Jaeger?" McCoy asks, sounding disappointed. "You promised eruptions!"

Jaeger takes out his tape recorder and plays a 'scanning' noise. "Atmosphere the same as ours, though the sexual tension level is much lower since we left Mr. Spock back on the ship." He takes off his mask and winks at Bones.

DeSalle pulls out his communicator. "Wait, it isn't working!"

The other two whip theirs out. "The bleeps are working," McCoy says, puzzled.

DeSalle brings out the laser beacon and fiddles with it, trying to find the 'on' switch. The pointy top part comes off with a snap, and he looks around quickly. The other two haven't noticed.

"Err…something's blocking the beacon. Yeah, that's it. Got to find some…level ground." They split up and wander around, then DeSalle stops in shock at the view. "Jaeger, McCoy!"

The other two come running, perhaps hoping there is a party of naked, drunken locals they can attend like on Alpha Beta IV, and stand in somewhat-less-than-awe before…a huge castle door! They whip out their phasers and sneak on tiptoe up the steps. DeSalle tries the door, and it's unlocked! Clearly these castle dwellers forgot to turn on their burglar alarms. They sneak in and peer around. The room is large, and filled with artifacts—tapestries, statues, posh carpets, and much decoration circa the late 1800's.

The landing party walks down the steps (leaving the door open!) and passes an alcove, in which is a particularly gruesome display of taxidermy. McCoy jumps back. "My god, it's the salt monster from planet M-100-13!"

DeSalle and Jaeger, not having been in the first episode, just raise their eyebrows and move on.

"No wonder the species is extinct," McCoy mutters. "They were all preserved!"

"Look!" shouts DeSalle. There, in the corner, on their own little display stand, are Kirk and Sulu! They are a rather nasty shade of green, and seem to be frozen in position. And what a position it is!

"My god!" shouts McCoy again. "We're at the mercy of some mad taxidermy cult! They must be fans who want to preserve us and use us as their own personal life-size action figures!"

The door slams shut and sprightly harpsichord music suddenly fills the air. The three men jump back and turn, expecting the vampire Lestat to leap out at them from a dark corner.

But instead, there is a rather foppish man in a fantastically blue coat circa 1780 playing the music. "I must say," he tosses elegantly over his shoulder. "They make a perfectly exquisite display pair!"

DeSalle groans. "I knew it was the British!"

"But," the strange man continues, "I suppose you'll be wanting them back now." He gestures with one lace-cuffed hand and Kirk and Sulu are unfrozen. Kirk's eyes widen and he quickly jumps off of his Helmsman, who pouts as he straightens his uniform. They give the foppish man a wary look and jump down from their display stand.

"What the hell?" Kirk mutters to McCoy.

"We've been looking for you for four hours," McCoy mutters back.

The man at the harpsichord turns. "You must excuse my whimsical way of fetching you here, but when I saw you passing by, I simply could not resist! A ship of the finest-looking crew in the galaxy, well, you can hardly blame me." He walks toward them as he speaks, and we see that he is adorned with much embroidery, medals, lace, and a huge cravat.

The landing party is speechless. Really, this fellow—er—guy, is beyond belief!

Kirk strides forward. "I am Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise--"

"Ahh," says the outrageous man in satisfaction. "So you are the Captain!" He chuckles, and the landing party just stare. "Absolutely smashing!"

Kirk narrows his eyes in disbelief. He didn't think it was possible for anyone to out-fop Harry Mudd, but this proves him quite wrong indeed, and Captain Kirk is never wrong. This bodes ill for someone. "Who are you?"

"General Trelane, sirs, Retired," he says with a bow and a wave of his hand. "Welcome, my home is your home, and all of that."

Kirk blinks as, at Trelane's wave, he is suddenly nude except for a large, black codpiece and a small, white dog tucked under one arm. The dog yips.

The General saunters over to the harpsichord again and continues playing.

TOS Fans watching for the first time: "WHAT the HELL??"

AllyP: SQUEE!

Kirk watches General Trelane (Retired) in bewilderment, until DeSalle comes up to him. "We've lost contact with the ship, sir," he mutters.

"Did you at least bring my condoms?" Kirk asks, annoyed, as he examines the codpiece.

DeSalle winces. "Err..."

General Trelane (Ret.) leans back toward them again. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to have visitors from the very planet I've made my hobby!" He frowns for a moment. "But according to my observations, I didn't think you capable of such stamina—er—voyages." He gives Kirk an up and down look and suddenly seems to notice the Captain's attire. "Oh dear, so sorry about that." He waves cheerfully and Kirk is once again in his staid Star Fleet uniform, and if the pants are suddenly a bit tighter in the rear than are standard issue, no one in the landing party behind the Captain thinks to complain.

Jaeger, the 'geological expert', looks around, then comes up to Kirk. "Look at the period, Captain!" he says in an attempt at secretive whispering. "It's as though he saw Earth, 900 years ago! 900 light-years…"

"Yes," agrees the (former) General happily, having heard Jaeger quite clearly even with his dramatic whispering. "I do like to view your lovely Earth through my telescope. Would you like to see it? It's quite large!"

McCoy coughs to hide a laugh, and Sulu grins.

"Yes…but you seem to have seen Earth…900 years past," Kirk says slowly, trying to grasp this himself.

"Oh dear, have I made an error in time?" Trelane raises a hand to his mouth, and Kirk (still being in close proximity) is suddenly wearing a Little Bo Peep costume, complete with shepherd's crook. "How fallible of me." He glances down at Kirk's petticoats, and waves him back to normal with a smirk.

"General Trelane--" Kirk begins, pained.

"Retired, sir." Trelane corrects, enthused. "It's just Squire Trelane, now. You may call me Mast—er—Squire, yes. I think I'd like that."

Kirk grimaces. "For what purpose have you imprisoned us here? I left my coffee and my condoms up there, and I really wanted to try those 'Blue-raspberry' ones!"

In the background, Sulu nudges McCoy and points to a statue at his side. It is a bust of Napoleon Bonaparte, and with a glance at the occupied Kirk and Trelane, he leans over and pulls a marker out of his pocket, drawing long, drooping mustaches and a pointed goatee on the marble face. Snickering, he hands the marker to the Doctor, who looks around for another statue.

"Imprisoned?" Trelane repeats, aghast. "Nonsense, you are my guests!" he gestures emphatically, and Kirk is suddenly wearing a vinyl miniskirt and spiked dog-collar, and a squeaky rubber dog bone protrudes from his mouth.

"You see," Trelane continues, oblivious, "I just finished my studies of your curious and fascinating society!" at each stressed word he gestures elegantly, lace cuffs waving, and Kirk pops back and forth between normal attire and dog-collared. "You came by at the most propitious moment."

Kirk takes the squeaky bone out of his mouth and tosses it away in disgust. "Trelane."

"I want to know all about your conquests!" The Squire says, turning back to the Captain.

Kirk scowls. 'Alright,' he thinks, 'time to parrot the ideals of Star Fleet, maybe Trelane will get bored and bring out the beautiful daughter that's hiding in a back room.' "Our missions are peaceful, not for conquest. When we do battle, it is only because we have no choice."

"Ah ha, but that's the official story, eh?" Trelane says, nudging him, and the uniform pops back into being.

"The—oh," Kirk says in a sudden moment of clarity. "Oh, conquest, battles; I see…Well," he takes on a modest air. "Well, I mean, we could stay here for days talking about conquest," he grins at a sudden memory involving excess use of coconut massage oil and several ping-pong balls. "…but I do have to go back to the ship eventually."

"Nonsense! I want to learn all about your feelings on war and killing and conquest and all that sort of thing."

Jaeger, having cottoned on to McCoy and Sulu's activities, joins in, removing a book from the shelf and propping a large, floppy hat on it, moving it like a puppet. "Most illogical, Doctor," he mutters, in a fair impression of the first officer. The other two collapse in muffled laughter, holding their sides and covering their mouths.

"Did you know," The Squire adds to Kirk, "you are one of the few predator species that preys even on itself?"

Most-Logical Spock Fans: "He's got a point, you know…"

Other Character's Fans: "Shuttup already!"

Trelane gestures again as he turns away and Kirk is turned into a Great White Hunter, complete with khaki short-shorts and a safari hat.

With an eyeroll, Kirk strides back to his men. He spots DeSalle starting to pull something from his pants, and grabs his hand quickly. "Not yet! …Put it on…stun,DeSalle, if you know what I mean," he mutters.

DeSalle, only trying to grab his marker to vandalize with, freezes.

Trelane whips around from admiring himself in his large mirror (apparently, all his accessories are large. Three guesses what that means.) "DeSalle, did you say? Un vrai Francais?" he asks, delighted.

The rest of the landing party quickly hide their hands behind their backs, putting on innocent expressions. Sulu nudges the bust of Napoleon around to face the opposite wall.

"Just what are you insinuating?" DeSalle (who evidently does not speak French) asks hotly.

"You know, I admire your Napoleon verymuch!" He waves a hand excitedly, and DeSalle is changed into Napoleon, and Kirk into Wellington. "Oh, er, terribly sorry," Trelane says, waving again.

Back in uniform, DeSalle slouches off toward the fireplace, wishing he'd brought some marshmallows or something,because boy is this getting boring!

Kirk sighs. "This is Mr. DeSalle, our Navigationing person." He nods back toward the landing party, "and Doctor McCoy, our medical officer, Hi—Hi—Mr. Sulu, our Helmsman, and Carl Jaeger, our Meteorologist."

"Welcome, good physicianer, and honorable sir," he bows low.

"Is he kidding?" Sulu mutters to McCoy.

"Und Officer Jaeger!" Trelane exclaims in a German accent. He marches in a circle, exclaiming something incomprehensible and probably suggestive in German, then stops to admire his cravat in the mirror again.

"I'm a scientist, not a military man!" the meteorologist exclaims, insulted.

McCoy's head whips around. "What did you say?"

"Oh, come now!" Trelane says, gesturing. "We're all military men under the skin; 'Don't ask, don't tell' and all that."

Kirk winces as the entire landing party is suddenly clad in lederhosen.

DeSalle, thus far unnoticed by anyone, is trying to sneak up on Trelane, armed with his phaser (the mechanical one, you naughty-minded people, you!), forgetting perhaps the fact that the Squire is standing right in front of a large mirror. Suddenly he steps on Kirk's discarded squeaky toy.

Trelane glances up and freezes DeSalle with a gesture. "My my, what an interesting weapon you have there! Do let me see it!" he moves to the Navigator's side and claps him on the shoulder, looking him up and down. "Yes indeed—most interesting!" he moves his hand slowly down below the view of the camera, and the censor suddenly wakes up, for we are tossed into—

Commercial break

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