Disclaimer: Don't own Star Trek. Won't own it in the forseeable future. Don't own Ballpark Franks. See note on Star Trek. Paramount owns the one. Someone owns Ballpark Franks. Not me. Wish I did. And Chekov is © his own yummy self.

Chekov is my honey-bun. Bring back Kirk. There's a postcard push to bring him back, this month only. You want the address, R&R and I'll post it. This is blackmail. Get over it.

R&R Replies: Kersneezy

And now...

HOT DOG

CHAPTER TWO: Chekov's Revenge in Refence to That One Book

"Keptin," said Chekov, "I found him."

"Playing in the holodeck again?" asked Kirk.

"Captain, that is highly illogical," said Spock from near sickbay door. "There is no holodeck on the Enterprise 1701 or 1701 A. In fact, they have not been invented yet."

"Shut up," growled McCoy. "Sulu's having another identity crisis. Or at least he's under stress."

"Sulu ees under stress?" asked Chekov hurridly. "Really?"

"Don't spread it around, Chekov!" hissed the good Doc.

"Really?" asked Chekov, ignoring him completely. "Oh, good thing, too. I vas looking for a revenge." He sprinted over to the intercom. "Hello?" he said, pushing the big red button. "Hello. Hello. And hello again. Sulu's under stress."

The whole ship rocked as the crew roared with laughter.

"Chekov," moaned McCoy, but the vengeful Russian was running out into the halls to laugh his tushie off. Spocks face appeared blank, but his ears were twitching madly in attempt to keep him from laughing. He followed Kirk out of sickbay, the Captain laughing up his sleeve.

Sulu, lying on one of the Medibeds, sighed and rolled his eyes. "Chekov sure likes his revenge."

McCoy just rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" said Nurse Chapel, walking into the room, chewing on a Ballpark Frank in a Mighty Whitey Wheaty® hot dog bun (A/N: I made up that name, by the way. So you won't see Mighty Whitey Wheaty® in the disclaimer.) "Hello Sulu. I heard you were under stress."

Sulu rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh."

"Well, bye!" said Nurse Chapel.

Sulu sighed. "I hate that boy."

"No you don't," said the ol' Doc. He left the room, chuckling madly about something. Sulu was afraid he knew what it was.

"Kerblah," said Sulu in a depressed kind of way.

"Hey!" said Uhura, walking into the room, chewing on a Ballpark Frank in a Mighty Whitey Wheaty® hot dog bun. "Hello Sulu. I heard you were under stress."

Sulu only grunted.

"You don't look so good," siad Uhura in worried tones.

Sulu grunted again.

"Well be that way!" said Uhura, stomping out of the room in a huff.

"This is my own private torment," muttered Sulu. "I'm getting back to the holodeck before that dead KHAN or someone shows up."

"Hey!" said KHAN, walking into the room, chewing on a Ballpark Frank in a Mighty Whitey Wheaty® hot dog bun. "Hello- I know you. I never forget a face mister - Uh, what your name? Anyway, the man who's under stress, right?"

But Sulu was already gone.

"Dammit," muttered Khan, "I just wanted to say that the Klingons were right - it's very cold in space, especially when your face looks like a pizza. Ah well, I guess I'll go kill Kirk. Come along guys."

Some very small and menacing shadows followed him out the door.