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0111010000101110 (Happy, Beedrill? Man, that's long.)
A/N: I'm going to try something wild and new. I'm going to reply to reviews at the end of the chapter. It occurs to me they're getting very, very long. In any case, on with the chapter. Tying up one more loose end from the Klingon saga.
Chapter Thirty-Seven:
A Night on the Town
The Enterprise has come into orbit around a Federation planet. It is unremarkable enough, though a reasonably popular tourist place. Shore leave, although brief, will no doubt be occurring:
The atmosphere on the bridge was quiet. Uneventful, peaceful, maybe a little dull. And then the turbolift doors opened, and Dr. McCoy stepped out. So much for quiet.
"Do you realize what that is down there?" McCoy asked the bridge in general, pointing at the viewscreen.
Kirk glanced at the screen idly, then glanced back at McCoy. "A planet?"
"Not just a planet, Jim. A halfway civilized planet!" McCoy said cheerfully, and shot a pointed glance in Spock's direction. The Vulcan looked back, impassively.
Kirk blinked. "Halfway civilized?"
"Yes!"
Kirk grinned. "How can you be sure it's not two-thirds civilized?"
"Or how about four-fifths?" Sulu suggested.
"Three-quarters, maybe," Uhura added.
"Or four-eighths," Chekov contributed.
"Six-twenty-fifths. Approximately. Taking into account those portions of the planet covered in water."
That was Spock. Of course.
The bridge fell momentarily silent after this interesting observation, and McCoy took the opportunity to regain control of the situation.
"Anyway, we've come into orbit around a halfway civilized planet. And do you know what that means?"
Kirk thought about it, and reached a conclusion. "No."
McCoy turned, and faced the back ramp, and the science station. "It means that it's time for Spock to pay up!"
Kirk was puzzled. "It means what?"
"We had that bet, remember? About the Klingons showing up? Well, the Klingons showed up. So that means I was right, and Spock was wrong, and now that we've come to a halfway civilized planet, he owes me dinner."
Spock nodded. "According to the initial terms of the agreement, the Doctor is correct."
"There. See?" McCoy said.
"And you had to come to the bridge and announce this?"
"Well," McCoy grinned good-naturedly, "after all the times he's been right and I've been wrong, I figured the occasion warranted it. And also, you're invited to come."
"Me?"
"Yes." McCoy glanced around the bridge. "And anyone else who wants to come too. Right, Spock?"
"Indeed."
"Wait a minute," Kirk interrupted, with the vague idea that his chief medical officer was cheating his first officer. "How can.?"
"That was the deal," McCoy explained.
"Correct. The dinner was to be yourself Captain, the Doctor, and myself, as well as-as I believe the Doctor put it-'anyone else we happen to drag along.'"
"See? I'm completely within my rights."
"An accurate sum of the situation," Spock agreed.
"Well, if you say so," Kirk said.
McCoy was looking at Spock suspiciously. "Hey, wait a sec. I just noticed something."
"Have you, Doctor?" Spock asked politely.
"You've agreed with everything I've said in relation to this bet!"
"Because you have not been inaccurate."
"Jim." McCoy moaned. "He's doing it again."
"Doing what?" Kirk asked. He had a suspicion though.
"Agreeing with me! Refusing to argue! And where's the fun when the other guy refuses to argue about it!"
Kirk looked at McCoy, and then at Spock. "Well! I hope you're properly ashamed, Spock."
"I believe I am," Spock said thoughtfully.
That turned heads.
"You're.you're what?" McCoy gaped.
"'Properly ashamed.' I see no cause for feeling shame, and I do not feel shame. Therefore, I am 'properly' ashamed."
McCoy groaned. Kirk laughed. The rest of the bridge crew was with Kirk.
"Very funny, Spock. But you can agree with me all you like. You still owe me dinner. And anyone who wants to come, be in the transporter room at six. Feel free to bring a friend."
* * *
McCoy wasn't the only one on the ship who'd noticed the planet they were around. And the bridge crew definitely weren't the only ones interested in a short shore leave. No, there was interest across all the departments. In science, medicine, engineering and general operations. And security.
Four members of security were currently engaged in planning their shore leave, in fact. Lt. Commander Gray, Lts. Simmons and Smith, and Ensign Jones were all in Rec Room Three, gathered around a computer screen, examining the planet's official web page.
"'The Adventure Planet,'" Gray read aloud. "Interesting way to bill yourself. Should be a good place for shore leave."
"Yeah. But what, exactly, do they mean by adventure?" Jones asked, just a trifle nervously.
"Come on, Jones! Live a little!" Gray told him.
The fact remained, though, that Gray was the only one who didn't look just a little apprehensive. Maybe it was because they were all red-shirts. But then, so was Gray. But he was chief of security, and when you have a specific position and reasonably high rank, Lady Luck can't be quite as consistently ill-mannered.
In any case, Lady Luck regardless, they were considering shore leave on The Adventure Planet.
"This looks useful, a list of suggested activities," Gray said, and clicked in. "Number one: skydiving."
"No!" Jones said quickly. "I have acrophobia."
"Really?" Smith said. "Me too!"
"You too what?" Simmons asked, confused.
"We both have fear of heights," Jones explained.
"Oh."
"So skydiving is out," Gray said, and moved on to the second item. "Number Two: Bungee Jump.never mind." He read on. "How about this? Skiing."
"Definitely not," Simmons shivered. "I went skiing once. Never again."
"What happened?" Gray asked curiously.
"I tripped. And rolled. Turned into the biggest snowball you ever saw. It wasn't fun."
"So much for skiing." Gray continued reading. "Here, how about this? An amusement park."
"I hate roller coasters!" they chorused.
Gray blinked. "What are you, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir? The unison was perfect there. And so what if you don't like roller coasters? They have other things at amusement parks. Not many things, but some."
Smith considered. "I did always like the merry-go-round."
Jones shook his head. "Not me. It always made me nauseous."
"The merry-go-round?" Gray said.
"Sure. It went around and around and around and around, and the little horses would go up and down and up and down and up and down, and all the while it's still going around and around and around and-"
Simmons held up a hand. "Stop." The lieutenant was starting to look a trifle green.
"Scratch the merry-go-round," Gray said hastily. "We could.we could go to a restaurant," he came up with finally. "They've got nice restaurants on this planet, lots nicer than replicated food. And you can't get hurt in a restaurant."
The others mulled it over.
"I am getting awfully tired of replicator food," Smith admitted.
"And I haven't been to a really nice restaurant in a while," Smith mused.
"And you can't get hurt in a restaurant," Jones considered.
"Of course not! Avoid raw meat, and it'll be perfectly safe," Gray assured them. "A restaurant it is."
* * *
There was a considerable crowd gathered in the transporter room that evening at six. The entire bridge crew had elected to come along, and several had indeed brought friends. All told, it was a considerable crowd.
"This looks like it's shaping into a real party," Kirk commented to McCoy.
"Does, doesn't it?" McCoy said, pleased. "How many people do you count? They keep moving and mixing me up-"
"Twelve," Spock volunteered. "Counting ourselves."
"Thanks. Twelve? Good, we'll qualify for a banquet room. I found a really nice restaurant. The Magic Flute."
"Is that an expensive place?" Kirk asked suspiciously.
"Only a little," McCoy protested.
"Bones."
"The Doctor is within his rights," Spock pointed out.
"Thank you, Spock. See, Jim? I'm still within." McCoy stopped. Frowned. "You're agreeing with me again, aren't you?"
"Your statement was correct," Spock said. "Therefore, it is only logical to agree."
"That's it. We're beaming down before you find a clever way to agree your way out of this." McCoy strode off through the milling people, organizing for beam-down.
"Spock." Kirk said slowly, "tell me honestly.did that make any sense at all to you?"
"No, Captain."
"Good. It must be him, not me."
* * *
At six-thirty, there were more people in the transporter room. Only four though.
"Everyone set to beam down?" Gray asked.
There were nods of consent.
"So what restaurant are we going to anyway?" Smith asked as they took their places on the transporter pads.
"I found a really nice restaurant. A little expensive, but it looks good," Gray answered. "It's called The Magic Flute."
* * *
And at The Magic Flute, the bridge crew (and friends) was having an excellent time. The food was very good (McCoy ordered lobster, got another Look from Kirk, and another agreement from Spock), the service was commendable, and the evening continued pleasantly and uneventfully until the dessert was served. At which point they heard a commotion in the main room.
"What's all that noise?" Kirk asked.
"Did someone just yell 'Fire?'" McCoy asked.
Sulu pushed aside the curtains along one side of the banquet room, and leaned over the half-wall, looking out into the main dining room. "You're not going to believe this. A bunch of guys panicked when they brought out some flaming dish."
"Oh no," Kirk said, laughing.
"Wait," Sulu cautioned. "It gets worse. They're in Starfleet uniforms."
"Oh no," Kirk repeated. He wasn't laughing. "And there's only a few ships in this system, so."
"Wait. It gets worse," Sulu said again.
"Please tell me those are not members of my crew. Please tell me I have never seen those people before. Please tell me those are complete strangers out there."
McCoy poked Spock in the shoulder. "I'll bet you another dinner that Jones and Simmons are mixed up in this."
"No, thank you."
"Let's see." Sulu said. "There's Smith."
McCoy nodded. "Not a surprise."
"And I think that's Gray."
"Wait for it."
"Looks like Jones."
"I knew it."
"And there's Simmons."
McCoy poked Spock again. "What'd I tell you?"
"I didn't argue," Spock pointed out.
"Oh yeah." McCoy frowned. "Rats."
Meanwhile, Sulu was keeping up a running commentary. "They're still shrieking about fires.oops, Simmons' sleeve just caught on fire. And Jones just poured a pitcher of ice water over his head. And missed the sleeve."
Kirk's elbows were on the table, his head in his hands. "Oh no."
"And now Simmons is hopping around.he just tripped over Gray's chair. While Gray was in it."
"Is his sleeve still on fire?" McCoy asked, mildly concerned.
"No, he doused it in some soup a second ago. Smith's trying to hide under the table, and Gray's still on the floor. I think he's laughing.oops."
"What now?" Scotty asked.
"Jones tried to put out the dish that's on fire. He put out the waiter instead. And the dish fell and set fire to the tablecloth."
"Oh no," Kirk moaned.
Spock signaled a waiter who was rushing past en route to the commotion. "Check, please."
"Here comes a horde of waiters," Sulu continued. "The fire's spreading across the tablecloth. Smith's grabbing the fire extinguisher.he has horrible aim, he just extinguished Gray."
A sudden clanging sound, not unreminiscent of the red alert signal, filled the air.
Kirk started out of his chair on instinct. "What's that?"
"Someone pulled the fire alarm," Sulu reported.
Kirk dropped back into his chair. "Oh no."
Spock examined the bill that had been brought him. "A bit high, but not unreasonable. How much tip is considered customary?"
"Fifteen percent, I think. So that would be." McCoy paused. "Wait a minute. Why am I trying to calculate this?"
"I do not know," Spock said, making note of the necessary tip.
"Does anyone else hear sirens?" Sulu asked. "That's probably the firefighters. Now things'll really get hectic!"
Kirk stood up. "That does it. Let's get out of here before we get mixed up in this. Where's the bill?"
"Already paid, Captain," Spock informed him.
"Good. Can we make it out the front door without being spotted?"
"No, there's a mass exodus rushing out the doorway. Did I mention Smith is still wildly spraying the fire extinguisher around?" Sulu added.
"Is there a back door out of this place?" Kirk asked.
"Over there, Keptin," Chekov said.
"We're just going to walk out and leave our security guards behind?" McCoy asked.
"They're grown men, they can take care of themselves." Kirk paused, considering. "Well, actually they can't, but they should be able to. And besides, I discovered a long time ago that when security guards run amok, the only reasonable option is to get out of the way, and fast. So let's go."
* * * It was a group of sodden, sooty security guards sitting in Sickbay an hour later. It had taken a while, but they'd finally made it out of the restaurant and back to the ship. Upon which the night nurse, on orders from Dr. McCoy, had dragged them into sickbay. Just to make sure no one was burned or anyone.
No one was. But even so, they were in a sorry state. Gray still had bits of foam clinging to his hair and shirt, but was by far in the best of spirits, breaking into sporadic laughter every so often. Simmons' deluge by the ice water had not agreed with the lieutenant, and he had, against all laws of the germ theory of disease, developed a raging cold in less than an hour. He was sitting on a biobed, blanket draped across his shoulders, sneezing. Smith's hair had somehow caught fire, and while there was no especial damage, it did make for a strange hairstyle. Jones, surprisingly, was in the best condition, though smoke-stained and mortified.
Denise surveyed the group, hands on her hips. "You did it again, didn't you?"
"Brother, did we!" Gray laughed. He was the only one.
Denise surveyed them again. "And.what exactly did you do?"
An answer was not forth coming.
Simmons, for one, was engaged in scowling at Gray. "Let's go to a restaurant, he says. You can't get hurt in a restaurant, he says. That'll be safe, he says." He probably would have gone on, but had to stop to sneeze.
"Now, how was I suppose to know they'd bring out flaming quail?" Gray asked, grinning.
"Is that what it was?" Smith shivered. "Quail are too little and cute to eat. Especially flaming."
"Someone tell me what happened." Denise appealed to Jones. "Sam, tell me what happened."
Jones shrugged. "We tried to put out a fire in a restaurant."
"Well, that sounds good."
"Yeah," Jones said glumly. "Except that there wasn't any fire. Just some burning bird-dish."
"Oh," Denise said, stifling a giggle.
"I was surprised they didn't take us all into custody," Gray said. "Could've accused us of public insobriety, from the spectacle we made."
"The Captain would've just loved that," Smith groaned.
"Guess they were just glad to get rid of us," Gray continued. "In fact, we got banned."
"From the restaurant?" Denise asked.
"No. From the planet."
"Aw, who needs 'The Adventure Planet' anyway?" Simmons grumbled. "Not me, that's for sure. Give me 'The Nice, Safe, Fun Planet' any day," he concluded, punctuating his final statement with a violent sneeze.
-------//------- And in reply (anyone who doesn't care to read these things, feel free to jump to the "Review" button):
Pallee: Red Dwarf.not familiar with this. I do like the Marx Bros.' Duck Soup though. Glad you enjoyed.
A.M.: Yeah, the pancakes were strange. But you can't pin that one on me. That's a product of the twisted imagination of either Blynneda or Taskemus, I'm not entirely sure which.
Keridwen: I was beginning to think you died. Or something. Glad to see you're back. : )
PearlGirl: As far as I know, the exact Risks speech was never in an episode.although I seem to vaguely recall hearing it was in one, I don't know which. I'd love to say I invented it, but I got it off a special/TV spoof once.
Alania: Funny you should suggest an April Fool's story, probably between the time I posted and the story came up. And yes indeed, it was weird. But so was that link. Dr. Seuss and Star Trek. Wild.
Silverfang: Sorry it takes a while.been busy. But here it is.er, was. Hopefully they'll start coming faster as the school year winds down.
Blynneda: Good, you got it that I was incorporating other people's jokes! Ack, I did mess up it's/its. And I hate it when other people do that. You're reading too much into my notes. School is at the end because I started to just list stories, and figured I'd throw in school too because it does take up most of my time. Hence it was the last one typed. Don't ask how. That's rationalizing. No rationalizing on that one, it's deliberately, intentionally, and wildly irrational. I (disturbingly) recognize the Gilligan you brought up, and actually I meant a different one, though it was similar. A chimp? Um, sure.
Whatshername: Just out of curiosity, do you even remember giving me permission to use Gray and Simmons for this? That was, what, a month ago? I wrote two other chapters between then and this one anyway.
Okay, I'm finally done. Go review. Please.
A/N: I'm going to try something wild and new. I'm going to reply to reviews at the end of the chapter. It occurs to me they're getting very, very long. In any case, on with the chapter. Tying up one more loose end from the Klingon saga.
Chapter Thirty-Seven:
A Night on the Town
The Enterprise has come into orbit around a Federation planet. It is unremarkable enough, though a reasonably popular tourist place. Shore leave, although brief, will no doubt be occurring:
The atmosphere on the bridge was quiet. Uneventful, peaceful, maybe a little dull. And then the turbolift doors opened, and Dr. McCoy stepped out. So much for quiet.
"Do you realize what that is down there?" McCoy asked the bridge in general, pointing at the viewscreen.
Kirk glanced at the screen idly, then glanced back at McCoy. "A planet?"
"Not just a planet, Jim. A halfway civilized planet!" McCoy said cheerfully, and shot a pointed glance in Spock's direction. The Vulcan looked back, impassively.
Kirk blinked. "Halfway civilized?"
"Yes!"
Kirk grinned. "How can you be sure it's not two-thirds civilized?"
"Or how about four-fifths?" Sulu suggested.
"Three-quarters, maybe," Uhura added.
"Or four-eighths," Chekov contributed.
"Six-twenty-fifths. Approximately. Taking into account those portions of the planet covered in water."
That was Spock. Of course.
The bridge fell momentarily silent after this interesting observation, and McCoy took the opportunity to regain control of the situation.
"Anyway, we've come into orbit around a halfway civilized planet. And do you know what that means?"
Kirk thought about it, and reached a conclusion. "No."
McCoy turned, and faced the back ramp, and the science station. "It means that it's time for Spock to pay up!"
Kirk was puzzled. "It means what?"
"We had that bet, remember? About the Klingons showing up? Well, the Klingons showed up. So that means I was right, and Spock was wrong, and now that we've come to a halfway civilized planet, he owes me dinner."
Spock nodded. "According to the initial terms of the agreement, the Doctor is correct."
"There. See?" McCoy said.
"And you had to come to the bridge and announce this?"
"Well," McCoy grinned good-naturedly, "after all the times he's been right and I've been wrong, I figured the occasion warranted it. And also, you're invited to come."
"Me?"
"Yes." McCoy glanced around the bridge. "And anyone else who wants to come too. Right, Spock?"
"Indeed."
"Wait a minute," Kirk interrupted, with the vague idea that his chief medical officer was cheating his first officer. "How can.?"
"That was the deal," McCoy explained.
"Correct. The dinner was to be yourself Captain, the Doctor, and myself, as well as-as I believe the Doctor put it-'anyone else we happen to drag along.'"
"See? I'm completely within my rights."
"An accurate sum of the situation," Spock agreed.
"Well, if you say so," Kirk said.
McCoy was looking at Spock suspiciously. "Hey, wait a sec. I just noticed something."
"Have you, Doctor?" Spock asked politely.
"You've agreed with everything I've said in relation to this bet!"
"Because you have not been inaccurate."
"Jim." McCoy moaned. "He's doing it again."
"Doing what?" Kirk asked. He had a suspicion though.
"Agreeing with me! Refusing to argue! And where's the fun when the other guy refuses to argue about it!"
Kirk looked at McCoy, and then at Spock. "Well! I hope you're properly ashamed, Spock."
"I believe I am," Spock said thoughtfully.
That turned heads.
"You're.you're what?" McCoy gaped.
"'Properly ashamed.' I see no cause for feeling shame, and I do not feel shame. Therefore, I am 'properly' ashamed."
McCoy groaned. Kirk laughed. The rest of the bridge crew was with Kirk.
"Very funny, Spock. But you can agree with me all you like. You still owe me dinner. And anyone who wants to come, be in the transporter room at six. Feel free to bring a friend."
* * *
McCoy wasn't the only one on the ship who'd noticed the planet they were around. And the bridge crew definitely weren't the only ones interested in a short shore leave. No, there was interest across all the departments. In science, medicine, engineering and general operations. And security.
Four members of security were currently engaged in planning their shore leave, in fact. Lt. Commander Gray, Lts. Simmons and Smith, and Ensign Jones were all in Rec Room Three, gathered around a computer screen, examining the planet's official web page.
"'The Adventure Planet,'" Gray read aloud. "Interesting way to bill yourself. Should be a good place for shore leave."
"Yeah. But what, exactly, do they mean by adventure?" Jones asked, just a trifle nervously.
"Come on, Jones! Live a little!" Gray told him.
The fact remained, though, that Gray was the only one who didn't look just a little apprehensive. Maybe it was because they were all red-shirts. But then, so was Gray. But he was chief of security, and when you have a specific position and reasonably high rank, Lady Luck can't be quite as consistently ill-mannered.
In any case, Lady Luck regardless, they were considering shore leave on The Adventure Planet.
"This looks useful, a list of suggested activities," Gray said, and clicked in. "Number one: skydiving."
"No!" Jones said quickly. "I have acrophobia."
"Really?" Smith said. "Me too!"
"You too what?" Simmons asked, confused.
"We both have fear of heights," Jones explained.
"Oh."
"So skydiving is out," Gray said, and moved on to the second item. "Number Two: Bungee Jump.never mind." He read on. "How about this? Skiing."
"Definitely not," Simmons shivered. "I went skiing once. Never again."
"What happened?" Gray asked curiously.
"I tripped. And rolled. Turned into the biggest snowball you ever saw. It wasn't fun."
"So much for skiing." Gray continued reading. "Here, how about this? An amusement park."
"I hate roller coasters!" they chorused.
Gray blinked. "What are you, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir? The unison was perfect there. And so what if you don't like roller coasters? They have other things at amusement parks. Not many things, but some."
Smith considered. "I did always like the merry-go-round."
Jones shook his head. "Not me. It always made me nauseous."
"The merry-go-round?" Gray said.
"Sure. It went around and around and around and around, and the little horses would go up and down and up and down and up and down, and all the while it's still going around and around and around and-"
Simmons held up a hand. "Stop." The lieutenant was starting to look a trifle green.
"Scratch the merry-go-round," Gray said hastily. "We could.we could go to a restaurant," he came up with finally. "They've got nice restaurants on this planet, lots nicer than replicated food. And you can't get hurt in a restaurant."
The others mulled it over.
"I am getting awfully tired of replicator food," Smith admitted.
"And I haven't been to a really nice restaurant in a while," Smith mused.
"And you can't get hurt in a restaurant," Jones considered.
"Of course not! Avoid raw meat, and it'll be perfectly safe," Gray assured them. "A restaurant it is."
* * *
There was a considerable crowd gathered in the transporter room that evening at six. The entire bridge crew had elected to come along, and several had indeed brought friends. All told, it was a considerable crowd.
"This looks like it's shaping into a real party," Kirk commented to McCoy.
"Does, doesn't it?" McCoy said, pleased. "How many people do you count? They keep moving and mixing me up-"
"Twelve," Spock volunteered. "Counting ourselves."
"Thanks. Twelve? Good, we'll qualify for a banquet room. I found a really nice restaurant. The Magic Flute."
"Is that an expensive place?" Kirk asked suspiciously.
"Only a little," McCoy protested.
"Bones."
"The Doctor is within his rights," Spock pointed out.
"Thank you, Spock. See, Jim? I'm still within." McCoy stopped. Frowned. "You're agreeing with me again, aren't you?"
"Your statement was correct," Spock said. "Therefore, it is only logical to agree."
"That's it. We're beaming down before you find a clever way to agree your way out of this." McCoy strode off through the milling people, organizing for beam-down.
"Spock." Kirk said slowly, "tell me honestly.did that make any sense at all to you?"
"No, Captain."
"Good. It must be him, not me."
* * *
At six-thirty, there were more people in the transporter room. Only four though.
"Everyone set to beam down?" Gray asked.
There were nods of consent.
"So what restaurant are we going to anyway?" Smith asked as they took their places on the transporter pads.
"I found a really nice restaurant. A little expensive, but it looks good," Gray answered. "It's called The Magic Flute."
* * *
And at The Magic Flute, the bridge crew (and friends) was having an excellent time. The food was very good (McCoy ordered lobster, got another Look from Kirk, and another agreement from Spock), the service was commendable, and the evening continued pleasantly and uneventfully until the dessert was served. At which point they heard a commotion in the main room.
"What's all that noise?" Kirk asked.
"Did someone just yell 'Fire?'" McCoy asked.
Sulu pushed aside the curtains along one side of the banquet room, and leaned over the half-wall, looking out into the main dining room. "You're not going to believe this. A bunch of guys panicked when they brought out some flaming dish."
"Oh no," Kirk said, laughing.
"Wait," Sulu cautioned. "It gets worse. They're in Starfleet uniforms."
"Oh no," Kirk repeated. He wasn't laughing. "And there's only a few ships in this system, so."
"Wait. It gets worse," Sulu said again.
"Please tell me those are not members of my crew. Please tell me I have never seen those people before. Please tell me those are complete strangers out there."
McCoy poked Spock in the shoulder. "I'll bet you another dinner that Jones and Simmons are mixed up in this."
"No, thank you."
"Let's see." Sulu said. "There's Smith."
McCoy nodded. "Not a surprise."
"And I think that's Gray."
"Wait for it."
"Looks like Jones."
"I knew it."
"And there's Simmons."
McCoy poked Spock again. "What'd I tell you?"
"I didn't argue," Spock pointed out.
"Oh yeah." McCoy frowned. "Rats."
Meanwhile, Sulu was keeping up a running commentary. "They're still shrieking about fires.oops, Simmons' sleeve just caught on fire. And Jones just poured a pitcher of ice water over his head. And missed the sleeve."
Kirk's elbows were on the table, his head in his hands. "Oh no."
"And now Simmons is hopping around.he just tripped over Gray's chair. While Gray was in it."
"Is his sleeve still on fire?" McCoy asked, mildly concerned.
"No, he doused it in some soup a second ago. Smith's trying to hide under the table, and Gray's still on the floor. I think he's laughing.oops."
"What now?" Scotty asked.
"Jones tried to put out the dish that's on fire. He put out the waiter instead. And the dish fell and set fire to the tablecloth."
"Oh no," Kirk moaned.
Spock signaled a waiter who was rushing past en route to the commotion. "Check, please."
"Here comes a horde of waiters," Sulu continued. "The fire's spreading across the tablecloth. Smith's grabbing the fire extinguisher.he has horrible aim, he just extinguished Gray."
A sudden clanging sound, not unreminiscent of the red alert signal, filled the air.
Kirk started out of his chair on instinct. "What's that?"
"Someone pulled the fire alarm," Sulu reported.
Kirk dropped back into his chair. "Oh no."
Spock examined the bill that had been brought him. "A bit high, but not unreasonable. How much tip is considered customary?"
"Fifteen percent, I think. So that would be." McCoy paused. "Wait a minute. Why am I trying to calculate this?"
"I do not know," Spock said, making note of the necessary tip.
"Does anyone else hear sirens?" Sulu asked. "That's probably the firefighters. Now things'll really get hectic!"
Kirk stood up. "That does it. Let's get out of here before we get mixed up in this. Where's the bill?"
"Already paid, Captain," Spock informed him.
"Good. Can we make it out the front door without being spotted?"
"No, there's a mass exodus rushing out the doorway. Did I mention Smith is still wildly spraying the fire extinguisher around?" Sulu added.
"Is there a back door out of this place?" Kirk asked.
"Over there, Keptin," Chekov said.
"We're just going to walk out and leave our security guards behind?" McCoy asked.
"They're grown men, they can take care of themselves." Kirk paused, considering. "Well, actually they can't, but they should be able to. And besides, I discovered a long time ago that when security guards run amok, the only reasonable option is to get out of the way, and fast. So let's go."
* * * It was a group of sodden, sooty security guards sitting in Sickbay an hour later. It had taken a while, but they'd finally made it out of the restaurant and back to the ship. Upon which the night nurse, on orders from Dr. McCoy, had dragged them into sickbay. Just to make sure no one was burned or anyone.
No one was. But even so, they were in a sorry state. Gray still had bits of foam clinging to his hair and shirt, but was by far in the best of spirits, breaking into sporadic laughter every so often. Simmons' deluge by the ice water had not agreed with the lieutenant, and he had, against all laws of the germ theory of disease, developed a raging cold in less than an hour. He was sitting on a biobed, blanket draped across his shoulders, sneezing. Smith's hair had somehow caught fire, and while there was no especial damage, it did make for a strange hairstyle. Jones, surprisingly, was in the best condition, though smoke-stained and mortified.
Denise surveyed the group, hands on her hips. "You did it again, didn't you?"
"Brother, did we!" Gray laughed. He was the only one.
Denise surveyed them again. "And.what exactly did you do?"
An answer was not forth coming.
Simmons, for one, was engaged in scowling at Gray. "Let's go to a restaurant, he says. You can't get hurt in a restaurant, he says. That'll be safe, he says." He probably would have gone on, but had to stop to sneeze.
"Now, how was I suppose to know they'd bring out flaming quail?" Gray asked, grinning.
"Is that what it was?" Smith shivered. "Quail are too little and cute to eat. Especially flaming."
"Someone tell me what happened." Denise appealed to Jones. "Sam, tell me what happened."
Jones shrugged. "We tried to put out a fire in a restaurant."
"Well, that sounds good."
"Yeah," Jones said glumly. "Except that there wasn't any fire. Just some burning bird-dish."
"Oh," Denise said, stifling a giggle.
"I was surprised they didn't take us all into custody," Gray said. "Could've accused us of public insobriety, from the spectacle we made."
"The Captain would've just loved that," Smith groaned.
"Guess they were just glad to get rid of us," Gray continued. "In fact, we got banned."
"From the restaurant?" Denise asked.
"No. From the planet."
"Aw, who needs 'The Adventure Planet' anyway?" Simmons grumbled. "Not me, that's for sure. Give me 'The Nice, Safe, Fun Planet' any day," he concluded, punctuating his final statement with a violent sneeze.
-------//------- And in reply (anyone who doesn't care to read these things, feel free to jump to the "Review" button):
Pallee: Red Dwarf.not familiar with this. I do like the Marx Bros.' Duck Soup though. Glad you enjoyed.
A.M.: Yeah, the pancakes were strange. But you can't pin that one on me. That's a product of the twisted imagination of either Blynneda or Taskemus, I'm not entirely sure which.
Keridwen: I was beginning to think you died. Or something. Glad to see you're back. : )
PearlGirl: As far as I know, the exact Risks speech was never in an episode.although I seem to vaguely recall hearing it was in one, I don't know which. I'd love to say I invented it, but I got it off a special/TV spoof once.
Alania: Funny you should suggest an April Fool's story, probably between the time I posted and the story came up. And yes indeed, it was weird. But so was that link. Dr. Seuss and Star Trek. Wild.
Silverfang: Sorry it takes a while.been busy. But here it is.er, was. Hopefully they'll start coming faster as the school year winds down.
Blynneda: Good, you got it that I was incorporating other people's jokes! Ack, I did mess up it's/its. And I hate it when other people do that. You're reading too much into my notes. School is at the end because I started to just list stories, and figured I'd throw in school too because it does take up most of my time. Hence it was the last one typed. Don't ask how. That's rationalizing. No rationalizing on that one, it's deliberately, intentionally, and wildly irrational. I (disturbingly) recognize the Gilligan you brought up, and actually I meant a different one, though it was similar. A chimp? Um, sure.
Whatshername: Just out of curiosity, do you even remember giving me permission to use Gray and Simmons for this? That was, what, a month ago? I wrote two other chapters between then and this one anyway.
Okay, I'm finally done. Go review. Please.