When Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent Beings Attack!

Chapter 3 of Three

Neelix tapped a young man on the shoulder, realizing too late that his hands were covered in flaming cow residue. Ah, well. "Excuse me, Crewman Carlisle?"

The shoulder-stained crewmember wrinkled his nose in a combination of disgust and confusion. "Yes?"

"What motivates an onion?"

Carlisle shrugged. "…Layers?"

The Doctor was curled up in a corner with his hands over his ears. What I wouldn't give to have my aural transmitters shut down…

"Dos Equis, a Mexican beer! Ray, the guy who brings me beer! Me, I'd like another beer! Fa, a long, long way to beer! So, I'd like another beer! La, lots and lots of beer! Tea, a drink, but it's not beer! And that brings us back to… Dos Equis, a Mexican beer…"

Must… remember.. The theme from Tosca…

The Doctor began to whimper.

Janeway suddenly couldn't see. "My eyes! I can't see my eyes!"

Q giggled happily. "It's an irremovable blindfold. It's my own invention!"

Janeway screamed and went flailing into a corridor, knocking over two crewmen as she barreled through the hall.

"It's some sort of blind fiend!" an ensign whispered.

"I believe they prefer 'visually challenged fiend'," said Q, and turned him into a bowl of petunias.

When Neelix returned to his kitchen, he found that Maggie had disappeared.


Back in the Jeffries tube, the following statements were heard:

"MOO!"
"Oh, dear, I seem to have stepped in cow feces."

"Can you walk inside a Jeffries tube?"

"Then if it's not on my boot, where is it?"

"I believe the location of the feces is irrelevant compared to the fact that there is a cow in here with us."

"Seven! How did you get in here?"

"…That is irrelevant."

"No, it's not!"

"YOU'RE ALL IRRELEVANT!"

"Tuvok, go back to singing. You're more interesting that way.'
"Sooooooooooooo… I'll take the high road and you take the low road…"

"What motivates an onion?"

"Neelix?"

The Doctor curled up in a corner. "I'm so confused right now…"


B'Elanna was beginning to regret quite a few of her decisions today.

First off: her clothing choice. While it was certainly highly amusing to stick Seven in an extra-large sweat suit and give herself the sexy uniform for once, but Jeffries tubes were small, and miniskirts were not designed to sit on the floor in.

"Paris," she growled.

"Sorry," he said quickly, and squeezed his eyes shut again.

Second off: opening the tube hatch. Yes, she got out of the crowded tube. Unfortunately, all that had accomplished was getting her a new sealed tube. All alone. With Paris.

"Tom," she said in annoyance, "you're being handsome at me. Stop it."

"I can't help it," Tom said, opening his lids just a crack. "it just comes naturally."

B'Elanna put up both her hands in front of his face. There. What I can't see can't… um… be seen.

Janeway hit what felt like her fourth bulkhead.

B'Elanna found that if she used the pointy end of her commbadge, she could scratch a line on the floor. "Okay," she said. "This side of the line is my side. That side is yours. We stay on our respective sides. Okay?"

Tom gave her his best puppy dog eyes.

"Paris, your eyes are being very blue at me. Make them stop."

The crowded Jeffries tube could make even the most sane person, well, crazy. The crew complement of the tube now consisted of Tuvok, Harry, Chakotay, Maggie (with whom Harry was trying to get reacquainted with), the puppy, Neelix (who was now surveying everyone as to what motivated an onion), the Doctor, Seven of Nine (to whom Chakotay kept referring to as "Marie Antoinette."), a few miscellaneous crewmen, and a rapidly expanding pile of cow manure.

Amidst it all, Q appeared.

"Ah, Q!" said Neelix, bubbling over with good will (which explained the hair). "What motivates an onion?"

"Mating instinct," said Q decidedly, and looked around.

"Pardon me," said Harry, tipping over at a dangerous angle, "have you seen my palmetto bug?"
"If you were a hot bun and you were trapped on a desert island, would you eat yourself?" Q replied, in order to silence Harry.

He thought for a moment. "… I would!"

"Sandrine's got some nice buns," drowsed Chakotay.

Janeway tripped and fell over a mouse. It squeaked at her and ran into Jeffries Tube 32.

"I thought only elephants were afraid of mice," said the Doctor.

"Oof," said Harry, from under the cow.

"Mr. Mouse," said Neelix. "What motivates an onion?"

A pause.

"Squeak," Neelix repeated thoughtfully. "I see."

Tuvok put his arm around Q's shoulder and looked at Harry. "This is the guy! He's a great guy…"

"Q, what motivates an onion?"

"Me!" Q paused. "You asked me that. Ask him."

"Ah, Lieutenant Carey! What motivates an onion?"

"Nothing," Carey answered wearily. The last time he had exited Engineering he had been ambushed by an irate Paris yelling something about how B'Elanna only needed one stalker and it was Paris, not Carey, and reporting to his supervising officer was no excuse. Unexpected teleportation was not necessarily an improvement.

"Are you sure?" Neelix turned to Chakotay. "What motivates an onion?"

"The grass green hairs on my ass!" he shouted triumphantly.

Neelix considered this. "Are they edible?"


"Tom," B'Elanna whined, "your toe is on my side!"

Tom grinned and inched his foot forward.

"Tom…"

"OUCH!"

Janeway slammed into someone.

"OW!" Carey yelled. "You broke my nose!"

"Carey? What are you doing here?"

"I was spontaneously teleported into a Jeffries tube."

"Then that means…"

"DOS EQUIS, A MEXICAN BEER! RAY, THE GUY WHO BRINGS ME BEER!"

"Crap."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

So, as you can see, we didn't explode. Expect a new chapter every day! YAY!!! The Beer Song is sung to the tune of "Do Re Mi" if you hadn't figured it out. It's rather entertaining.

We polled several people and asked them what motivated an onion. Here are a few responses:

6.2

The alien mongoose that lives in my veggie drawer.

The fear of garlic.

Erin's weirdness (a ff.net writer. Vashthesoftie)

Frying pans.
The knowledge that whoever eats it will eat it while crying.

Because the apple can't do anything.