When Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent Beings Attack!
What Do You Get When You Multiply 6 x 9, or 6 x 9 Equals 42.
The Doctor was flopped sullenly on a biobed, smacking the side of the view screen in the vain hopes of improving the reception. "What I wouldn't give for a pair of bunny ears…"
A rabbit appeared and landed on his head, squeaking.
"NOT THAT KIND, Q!"
Vorik and Lt. Carey wandered through the corridors, trying to formulate a plan…
"No, Vorik! I don't care! Now is NOT the time to raid Tom's cabin! No! NO! Don't! AUGH!"
There was a moment of silence.
"I never noticed how well an empty corridor echoes," Carey said to no one in particular; or more accurately, no one at all.
Tuvok looked triumphant. "Forty-two!" he announced.
"What do you get when you multiply six times nine?" trumpeted a moose named Chakotay.
"I always knew there was something fundamentally wrong with the universe," Q muttered.
Harry held up a cloth bag of stones. "What's this?"
"Onions."
And then he saw them.
Two of them.
Clones.
He reached for the replicator.
He programmed a nose.
He programmed a hat.
He programmed shoes.
The Doctor bore down on the potatoes…
Tom was composing a mooses song. As a direct result, B'Elanna was discovering that she was to cuteness what Superman was to kryptonite.
Lieutenant Brannock was STILL having a lot of fun in his corner.
"NO, VORIK! Don't replicate a gallon of gasoline! You CAN'T set Tom's bed on fire!" Carey was freaking out at this point, and then the thunderous thundering of something thunder-like could be heard.
The Doctor ran by the open door (which Vorik had propped open with Lieutenant Paris's television set) leading a large army of Mr. Potato Heads. "KAH-PLAH!" he yelled, oblivious to his very bad Klingon pronunciation.
A penguin came waddling past, paused, blinked at Lieutenant Carey, and then continued on his way.
The Volunteer Fireman came galloping through, kissed him soundly, and axed his way through a large amount of potatoes. "FRENCH FRIES FOR EVERYONE!!" came his lingering call as the stampede bore him away.
A man carrying a tray of pickles emerged from a turbo lift.
Carey was glad that he hadn't had any of that beer. Things couldn't possibly get any weirder if his brain remained intact.
"Are seagulls flammable?" asked Vorik.
Meanwhile, Randy Quick, Volunteer Fireman, entered Engineering, but Repair Man-man-man-man had already beaten him there.
He was attempting to realign a dilithium matrix.
"Help!" the warp core cried plaintively.
Volunteer Fireman kissed the warp core soundly, and hacked his way out of Engineering, oblivious to the fact that the door had locked open, scared to death of the shiny metal sharp thing.
"B'Elanna!" called the warp core.
Tom gave it a headache.
Speaking of which…
"Mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses! Mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses, mooses!"
"TOM, STOP IT!"
Neelix backed into a wall, hit the Mr. Potato Head back hatch, and tumbled out. He stood up, dusted himself off, and lunged back into the Jeffries tube, instead landing amidst a various assortment of plastic facial features.
He felt something painful.
"Hey! A mustache!"
Janeway was tired. It was time for a nap.
"How do mooses sleep?" inquired Tom, and integrated this into his song. "Napping mooses, sleeping mooses, mooses, mooses…"
B'Elanna resisted the urge to crawl into his lap.
Back in the mess hall, an ensign who had come in search of a flammable banana had instead replicated forty decks of cards and was in the process of building a model of the Voyager.
Vorik wandered in, a can of gasoline in one hand, one of Tom's pillowcases in the other. "Do you have a match?"
"AHH!" screamed Carey.
"Look!" said Neelix. "Check out my hat!"
Carey shoved the Talaxian back through the hatch and continued on his way, accompanied by a total lack of guilt.
Harry claimed to have gotten his clarinet back from the hen and was now playing away at nothing.
"There is no discernable approach to determining the cultural background of a chicken," Seven stated decidedly.
Q sighed. "Borg are not entertaining," he decided, and snapped his fingers.
The dancing Borg all got pink tutus.
Tuvok, meanwhile, was attempting to stick a colored pencil down his aural tract.
He raised his hand.
"Yes, Tuvok?" Q asked.
"There's a pencil in my aural tract. It's in there pretty far. I think it's hitting my brain. Can I go to the nurse?"
"Hey!" said Seven. "Where did the green go?" She promptly vanished.
Q turned his attention back to Tuvok. "No, dear. I'm afraid the nurse is a bit busy at the moment." He listened for the mooses; they were still there. "You just sit tight for a while longer."
Tuvok applied his startling intellect to the problem of how one goes about sitting tight.
Neelix wondered if an onion would look good in a mustache and a bowler hat.
Q snapped his fingers. "I forgot to give the Potato Head a mustache!" he announced, and Neelix's mustache disappeared.
"Hey! Who stole my mustache?!" came from the floor vent.
"Ouch!" said Tuvok, and rejected contortionism.
"Don't worry," said Carey from the other side. "You've still got your sideburns."
"Tug on my whiskers, Seven?" said Neelix cheerfully, but she disappeared again too quickly to reply. Mischief maker, yes, but directly cruel Q was not.
Seven appeared in an empty room, save for Volunteer Fireman. "Ah! There's a fire on it's way to the kitchen!" he yelled, kissed Seven soundly, and ran off. "You! Pointy-Eared Man! Stop!"
Vorik ran down the corridor, waving a burning sock on a stick behind him. "Tom's belongings are highly flammable," he proclaimed with his usual monotonous tone as he waved his flaming torch around. "I require further experimentation with his personal belongings before I can draw any concrete data." He marched off purposefully.
Volunteer Fireman ran after him, spontaneously armed with the world's largest fire extinguisher.
Meanwhile, the biggest game of Monopoly was occurring in the crowded Jeffries Tube. It was constantly impeded by the fact that Maggie kept eating the pieces and Q kept having to make more.
Lieutenant Brannock… well, we won't mention anything about Lieutenant Brannock.
Free of the Jeffries tube, Seven was torn between her duty shift and rescuing the others in the tube.
Purposefully, she marched off to Astrometrics, wondering if her console had exploded while she was gone.
The warp core whimpered at the loss of its beloved B'Elanna.
Tom wondered if it was possible for him to mentally eject the warp core. He left of his mooses to concentrate on this for a little while. Nothing happened, excepting the fact that B'Elanna started breathing again. And he got a headache.
Neelix was getting very lonely. Also, he was starting to run out of air. Q had casually condemned him to a turbo lift with a mass of mutant onions.
Vorik ceremonially dumped a pile of photographs of Tom on the rival man's floor and set fire to it. Then he replicated a t-shirt reading "Pyromaniac."