Author's Note:  Well, that last parody went relatively well, so I figured I'd give it another go.  Maybe some more in the future, too.  Actually, I've been intending to write TOS parodies, but that's…well, to come.  What's that?  You haven't read my last parody?  Well, get on it, Sparky!  It's entitled Paul Revere and the Raiderser, Marauders, based on the listing.  Don't ask me.  Apparently the title thing on ff.n doesn't read hyphens.  I'll have to keep that in mind.

And so, with no further ado (that's a laugh), I bring you…

A Night Partially, But Not Entirely, In Sickbay

A/N continued:  Okay, I just thought of something.  Watching this a second time, I actually found it wasn't as bad as I'd suspected.  At least certain parts of it were funny that I was starting to convince myself weren't actually funny.  Like the bat scene.  Part 2, I mean, after the commercial.

All right, no more ado.

Teaser (and isn't this a fitting term):  Actually, for some ridiculous reason, I neglected to turn my tape on soon enough, so I missed the very beginning (okay, a few seconds is all).  And in my startled panic to turn it on, I didn't register what was going on.  Hmm.  Maybe I should be using the editorial "we" here.  So, anyway, we think there's something wrong with either our tape or our VCR, because there's all these fuzzy lines and stuff and "tracking" don't do a damn thing.  We may need a head cleaner.  And, no, we're not talking shampoo.  And it's a decent brand tape, too, a Sony.  All our others (check, most our others) work fine.  It's also the one I've been taping old Star Treks on to parody.  Must be a discrimination against Trek.

            Whoa, our VCR just growled in irritation.  Better get back to the show.

            So, after half a page's ramblings, we discover in the first minute that some aliens pissed off Archer.  Again.  Jeez, you'd think a starship captain might be a little more patient with first contact incidents.  What, has he been watching Star Trek or something, he thinks it's gonna be so easy?

            Vulcans aside, our Starfleeters enjoy superhero underpants, blue with black belt-stripes.  If only they had spandex and a cape, they could be…um…Super Friends or something.

            If you have a perverted mind, you might imagine this to be a kinky sex scene.  But of course, none of you has a perverted mind.  Right?

            Now that we've wasted a page on minute one, let's see how long the rest of this will be (golly, at this rate, this'll be 50 pages long!  I'll try not to, promise).

ACT 1:  9:09 pm

Trip (singing):  Chrome wheel plasma injectors are steppin' out over the li-ine, whoa… (A/N: I don't know if these are the actual lyrics to Springsteen's "Born to Run," but even if they are, they don't make any sense to me.  But I just heard it on the radio, and they're talking about injectors, so it fits)

(A/N:  Okay, if I have to explain every joke to you, this'll never end.)

Archer:  I don't know what's wrong.  For some reason, people always seem to have a problem with me.

Trip:  It wouldn't have anything to do with your stubborn-ass attitude, would it?

Archer:  My what?

Trip (innocently):  Nuttin'.

Archer:  So, can we just leave?

Trip:  Without getting' my equipment?  What the hell?  Why don't you try sucking it up, go back there, and kiss and make up?

Archer:  I have to kiss them?

Trip (wavering):  Maybe.

Archer:  Well, I can't do that!  I'll get T'Pol to solve my problems for me.  That's what she's here for.

Trip raises his eyebrows knowingly.  Just at the mention of her name, Archer is obviously infatuated with her.

Sickbay, still 9:09 pm:

Phlox:  You can pet the trumpet if you like.

Archer (hesitates):  Is that a euphemism I should know?

Phlox:  I don't know what's wrong with your dog.  Or what to do.

Archer (on the verge of tears):  Is my puppy gonna die?

Phlox:  Who knows?  Optimism!

Archer:  Didn't the Krappians know I brought my doggie with me?

Phlox:  Certainly.

Archer:  Somehow, I've offended these creepazoids, and I don't know why.  If they hurt my puppy, I'm gonna do something mean!

Phlox:  Just think, if you're lucky, maybe you left behind a smallpox-infested blanket that will devastate their population.

Archer:  We can only hope.

Phlox:  This may be a strange question, but why is your animal still juvenile?  I thought he was supposed to become an adult by now.

Archer (puzzled):  Hmm.  Must be space dust—the fountain of youth.  Oh, and nobody thinks dogs are cute.  He has to be a puppy.

On Bridge, has not yet changed from 9:09 pm:

T'Pol:  Let's go to the Ready Room.

Ready Room, 9:09 pm:

T'Pol:  Your dog took a leak on their sacred tree.

Archer:  What?  That's what they're all worked up about?  Well, dogs have to take leaks, don't they?  Don't they have dogs on Planet Krappian?

T'Pol:  I told them we're sorry.

Archer:  Well, I'm not sorry!  They should have said, "Don't bring your pet on an important diplomatic mission; he'll pee on someone's sacred tree!"

T'Pol:  Some things are common sense.

Archer:  Common…what?

T'Pol (very calmly, as is her wont):  And you're really the best Earth has to offer?   Mayweather could make better command decisions than you.

Archer's quarters.  Doesn't the clock ever change here?  Archer is watching wussy water polo (this is the sport of the future?  In a peaceful society like this, I'd think the games would be as violent as possible.  Marco!)

Archer:  Aw, puppy gone.

Back to Sickbay, all in less than a minute:

Archer:  Is puppy okay yet?

Phlox (cheerfully enough):  Not really, no.  In fact, he's worse.

Archer:  Can I stay here?

Phlox (grinning to self):  Why, certainly.

Archer:  How's puppy doing?

Phlox:  He's really about to croak, but I'll see if I can't figure something out.  You can always have Leechy if the dog doesn't make it.

Archer:  Umm…thanks.  Do you have dogs on your world?

Phlox:  Well, we have the Denobulan lemur.  That's close enough.

Archer:  Isn't that like a monkey?  Maybe I'd rather have a monkey.

Phlox:  Not quite.

Archer:  Hey, I just thought of something.  Do you even know what you're doing?

Phlox:  Sure, I know just about everything.  I have degrees in things you've never even heard of.

Archer:  That's not a big surprise.  It occurs to me that I know nothing about you, having hired you on the spur of a moment because I didn't know any Starfleet doctors who would be suitable for this mission.

Phlox:  And I decided to come, neglecting my actual assignment.  Isn't it great!

Archer:  So, how's my dog, anyway?

Phlox:  For the third time, not very well.

Archer quietly releases a sob.

Phlox:  Let's both try to rest, okay?

Archer: I thought you didn't sleep.

Phlox smiles evilly, or as evil as he gets, and walks off to find his buzzsaw.

Archer:  Are you okay?

Phlox:  Oh, did I wake you?

Archer:  Well, I haven't actually fallen asleep yet.  I was just talking to you a minute ago.

Phlox:  Just trimming my disgusting toenails.  The Centaurian Monkey-snail is hungry.  Wanna watch?

Archer:  I'll…be going back to bed now.

Phlox:  You'll miss a fine show!

Archer sleeps for an hour (he says).  10:09 pm:

Phlox:  Feeding frenzy!

Archer (sleepily):  Uh…how's puppy?

Phlox:  Who knows?  He's asleep.

Archer:  At least someone is.

Phlox:  Did I ask you to stay here?

Archer:  Maybe I'll come back later. (leaves)

Phlox:  I thought you were going to spend A Night in Sickbay…?

ACT 2:  Can you feel the built-up tension from that commercial break?  What could possibly happen now?  Where will Archer go now that he is not actually spending A Night in Sickbay?

An exercise room which, heretofore, did not exist.  12:09 am:

T'Pol is jogging, alone.  Archer disobeys the cardinal rule:  Never go in against a Vulcan when FITNESS is on the line!

T'Pol:  How's your dog.

Archer:  Well, ain't that sweet.  He'll probably die. (sniffle)

T'Pol You're still going to chuck it?  (A/N:  This has nothing to do with the episode, I just turned the tape back on, and this was left on the captioning.  Yes, I use the captioning.  Don't ask why.  I don't know.)

Archer:  Huh?  (pauses; no answer)  So, what's up with the Krappians?

T'Pol:  Who knows?  I've been here all night.  Can't you see how sweaty I am?

Archer:  Will they be shipping me off to prison?  Branding my—

T'Pol:  They just want you to apologize.

Archer:  Apologize.  Hah!  They should apologize to puppy.

T'Pol:  You shouldn't have brought him along.  It was stupid.

Archer:  But I wanted to!  Puppies have rights, too!  It's the Future!

T'Pol:  You're more worried about your dog than your ship, which, if it explodes, means "Puppy" is so much fried meat.

Archer:  Can't I care about both?

T'Pol:  I'm not questioning your pluralities; I'm questioning your priorities.  (A/N:  I liked this line, so I left it in verbatim.)

Archer:  What does that even mean?  I thought you were starting to understand humans.

T'Pol:  Okay, I understand humans when they're acting with a shred of intuition-induced common sense.

Archer:  There's that word again…

Hoshi (over intercom):  Hey, the ransom demands—er, apology request just came in.  This'll be a kick to watch!

Archer:  I'm right here, Hoshi.

Hoshi:  Oh, oopsie.

Archer:  I'm coming up.

On bridge, Archer holding a different towel and looking sweatier than he did just as he was leaving the Exercise Room:

Archer:  Well, this ain't so bad.  I've always wanted a tattoo. (leaves)

Hoshi:  Do we have a chainsaw on board?

T'Pol:  You'll have to ask the doctor.

Archer wakened by alarm in Sickbay.  1:32 am:

Archer:  What's wrong?  Noise!

Phlox:  Oh, nothing.  Your dog's just dying.

Archer:  Is he going to die?

Phlox:  Good question.  Could you get me 5 cc's of the blue colored liquid over there?  You can't miss it.

Archer hurries over, thankfully having started his career as a nurse, and returns.

Archer:  5 cc's.  Here.

Phlox (cheerfully):  You moron, this is 10 cc's.  Hold out your arm.  There.  Now it's down to 5.

Archer:  I'm feeling woozy.

Phlox:  You'll be fine.  Okay, he won't die.  Yet.  So, what's going on with the Kreetassans?  (A/N:  Don't ask me, that's how the captioning spells it.)

Archer (sullenly):  They won't share their toys.  I have to do some stupid native ritual, and they don't even care about my puppy!

Phlox:  Do they even know about your puppy?

Archer:  I don't know!  Maybe T'Pol told them or something!

Phlox:  T'Pol, huh?  Why did you mention her?

Archer (fills glass out of tap):  She's my second in command.  I was just talking to her about it.

Phlox:  Why wouldn't Commander Tucker's opinion matter to you?

Archer:  Well, because I haven't seen him since the beginning of the episode.  (drinks)

Phlox:  Oh, by the way, I wouldn't drink that if I were you.  Recirculated urine.

Archer starts to put drink down, then shrugs and continues drinking.

Phlox:  You're not saying this because you'd like to have sex with T'Pol, are you?

Archer:  What?

Phlox:  You're not saying this because—

Archer:  What kind of question is that?

Phlox:  A valid one—it connects directly.

Archer:  I'm going back to sleep.  And I won't dream about T'Pol.

On Bridge:

Kreetassan:  Hey, we're feelin' lonely down here.  Don't we get to see your captain naked yet?

Hoshi:  Sorry.  Not yet.  He's still moping over his dog.

Kreetassan:  I'm offended!

Hoshi:  Hey, aren't you Admiral Forrest?

Kreetassan (eyes shifting):  What?  That's ridiculous!

Hoshi:  No, really!  That's some funny make-up!  Sir.

Kreetassan:  I'm offended! (cuts transmission)

Sickbay.  We've lost track of time:

Archer:  Now what?

Phlox:  Oh, just my vampire bat escaped.  Don't worry, she usually doesn't like human blood.  Can you help catch her?

Archer:  Let me think about it during the commercial.

Will they catch the escaped bat?  Find out in…

ACT 3:  During the commercial, they found another net and managed to create a giant origami…bat.  Another previously unknown degree of Phlox's.

Nobody seems to mind that they're destroying everything in Sickbay, least of all Dr. Phlox.  Archer knocks stuff around, and the bat escapes.  Big help.  (Actually, I found this scene amusing.  How do you parody an amusing scene?  John Billingsley is great!)

Archer:  Well, that didn't work.

Phlox:  No kidding.

Archer:  Hey, is that goo poisonous?

Phlox (tastes it):  No, actually, it's strawberry syrup.  I have ice cream sundaes down here sometimes.

Archer:  What now?

Phlox:  Well, I guess we have to try to catch her again.  We've got time to kill.  So, any dreams about T'Pol?

Archer:  It's 2:30 in the morning, and I'm hunting an escaped bat.  That's all I'm thinking about.  That and, oh, yeah, puppy.

Phlox:  2:30?  I thought it was still 1:32.  Oh, well, I guess that was an hour ago.

Archer:  Good call.

Phlox:  It's sexual tension.  I've noticed it for some time, now.  Since about…episode 14, what was that?  Ah, yes, "Shadows of P'Jem," when you were tied up together.

Archer:  You're wrong.

Phlox:  Now, when you finally give in, do you mind if I watch?  Interspecies sexual practices would be very fascinating!  (A/N:  That was an unintentional Spock pun)

Archer:  Ah!  There's the bat!

Hoshi (enters, catches bat in the calmest moment of her career):  What is this, a new sport or something?

Phlox:  I'll take that.  (grabs bat)

Hoshi:  The Kreetassans called.  You know, I think it's just Admiral Forrest trying to pull one over on you.  (A/N:  Why is Hoshi in charge of the ship?  Oh, I get it, everyone else is asleep.)

Archer:  What's their problem, anyway?  My puppy's sick.

Hoshi:  Are you going through PMS or something?  …Sir.

Archer:  So, what's going on?

Hoshi:  Well, they said—

Archer:  Not you.  I meant with puppy.

Phlox:  Nothing new.  Go back to sleep.  Or else let's talk about T'Pol.  You know, Lt. Reed has it bad for her, too.  Personally, I think she belongs with Commander Tucker, myself.  (A/N:  Okay, that's me speaking.)

Dream sequence:

(A/N:  My favorite part is when they show Malcolm solemnly nodding his head)

Haunting scene of a rainy cemetery, and instead of mourning puppy's death, Archer is focusing on T'Pol—oh, yes, and staying dry.  That's why they share the umbrella, really.  Ooh, here's the kinky sex scene again.  Of course he'd dream about this.  Sexy blue light—whoo, T'Pol is suddenly buck-nekkid!  Whoo!  Whoo!  Oh, we'd better cut off before we go X-rated.

Archer (waking up):  I dreamt…Puppy died.  Oh, and I had sex with T'Pol.

Porthos (oops, I mean Phlox.  I don't know where that came from):  See what I mean?  Or maybe I just planted the idea in your head.

Archer:  I had an old girlfriend with a bugle—beagle.  I loved the dog more than her.  Then she had puppies—the dog, I mean—and there were four.  The four musketeers.

Phlox:  I thought that was three musketeers.

Archer:  Yeah, well, maybe.  I've had him since he was 6 weeks old.  Strangely enough, he still looks 6 weeks old.

Phlox:  Nice sob story.

Archer:  Did you have pets?

Phlox:  Nope.  We don't have pets.  Except Leechy.  Oh, and Batty.

Archer:  What about the monkey?

Phlox:  Oh, they're quite tasty.  (A/N:  Tasty Monkey=funny!)

T'Pol (enters with food):  I've brought food.

Phlox:  Great!  No need to bring one for me, I'll just eat off his plate!

Archer:  What am I, supposed to stuff myself to apologize?

T'Pol:  No, you're just supposed to eat.  Must you be so sarcastic all the time?

Archer:  Oh, sorry.  I've just been thinking about your breasts.  Are they real?

T'Pol just looks at him.

Archer:  I mean, it's a valid question, right?  Do Vulcans get implants?  That wouldn't be logical, would it?

T'Pol:  Ensign Sato and I have prepared a list.

Archer:  Okay, give me a kiss later—I mean…oh, I don't know what I mean.  You're hot, baby.  (T'Pol leaves)

Phlox (pointedly, or as pointed as one syllable gets):  Huh.

Alarm blares.

Phlox:  Well, it's a little better.  But now puppy's pituitary gland is destroyed.

Archer:  You mean he'll never grow up?

Phlox:  Did you think he was going to?  Get me the thing with the blue cover.

Archer:  What thing?  Everything's blue in here.

Phlox:  Let's do some experimental surgery!  I'll use my rare, valuable lizard!

Archer:  Is this going to work?

Phlox:  Who knows?

Archer:  Well, what do I do?  I don't want to do weird surgery on my puppy!

Phlox:  I'll leave the decision up to you.  But decide quickly—by the end of the commercials, preferably.

ACT 4:  Has he decided?  Yes!  He has!  Unfortunately, he decided during the Buffy commercial, so we're a little behind.  They've already started without us.

Archer:  So, assuming I do wanna bone T'Pol (not to sound crude or anything), what do I do?

Phlox:  How old are you?  I would've thought you'd learned that by now.

Archer:  I mean—

Phlox:  You know, considering this is a highly experimental surgery, which has never been done before, you'd think maybe you could give me an opportunity to concentrate.

Archer:  Oh, yeah.  I forgot about that part.

Phlox:  Oh, don't worry!  Go on!

Archer:  So, should I tell her, or what?

Phlox:  Well, I can't imagine that would do anything but make matters worse.

Archer:  Then let's make matters worse!

Phlox:  Pass me the auto-suture.  This may be the last time I use it.  I think I'll give it away to the next aliens we meet.  It's too useful.  Wouldn't it be more dramatic if I had to fix wounds the old-fashioned way?

Archer:  So what do I do now?

Phlox:  Lower the fluidic temperature 12 degrees…Not that much!  You wanna kill him yourself!

Archer:  You must know all about sex with those three wives.  And husbands.

Phlox:  Of course.

Archer:  And kids.  You have…

Phlox:  Five kids.  Two of them turned out to be deadbeats, but what can I say?

Archer:  Hey, maybe sometime we'll swing by your homeworld and see them—you can reconcile and everything!

Phlox:  Oh, hand me the synaptic inductor.  The blue one.

Archer:  I thought you wanted the yellow synaptic inductor for a second.

Phlox:  Good thing this surgery came along.  I was starting to wonder if I'd ever need the synaptic inductor.

Archer:  I'm sorry.  You have to stay with us all this time.

Phlox:  Oh, that's fine.  It makes me feel smart.  That's funny.  T'Pol told me you were incapable of apologizing.

Archer (jealously):  What?  When did she talk to you?

On Planet Krappian—er, Kreetass…ia:

Archer chops up the sacred tree and speaks something that sounds like Klingon.  He has a funny "ceremonial" thing on his head.  Oh, and tattoos all over his chest.  If trees are so important to these people, why does the overhead shot show none?  Oh, never mind, there's lots of trees.  I just rewound the tape.

9:15 am:

Archer:  Well, all's well that ends well.  I guess that giant mahjong thing I set up worked okay.  They liked my hairy chest so much, they gave us extra stuff.

T'Pol:  That was a surprise.

Archer:  Oh, let me apologize to you, too, just to prove I can.

T'Pol:  That's okay.

Archer:  Now, I forget, was I going to tell you I wanted to have sex with you?

T'Pol:  Well, it's a good thing we're not supposed to hook up, because that might be an interesting twist when we finally fall for each other passionately in a night of…passion.  You'd be court-martialed.  Unless I decide to go with Trip, after all.

Archer:  Trip?   …Well, as long as we don't spend another Night in Sickbay.

T'Pol:  Were you planning on apologizing to Hoshi, as well?

Archer:  Hey, what about Malcolm?  He's part of this love quadrangle, too.

T'Pol:  In which aspect?

Archer (pauses):  Well, you, of course.  I think.

Sickbay:

Phlox:  How did everything go?

Archer:  We get a happy ending, as usual.

Phlox:  Things went well up here, too.

Archer:  The transplant?

Phlox:  Well, you were here for that.  His recovery, I mean.  It's only taken him two hours to recover enough for you to take him.

Archer:  When can I take him?

Phlox:  Get him outta here now, please.  My Centaurian Monkey-snail…

Archer:  I'm never comin' in Sickbay again!

Phlox (freaky smile):  That's what you think!

Finis.

This was long!  Hope you liked!  "The Seventh" parody hopefully soon to come!  (Probably next week)  Oh, and a semi-serious Hoshi-Malcolm story coming soon to a theater near you!