From the Further Adventures of Captain William 'Kiss My Ass' Riker: Enter the Hutch!

"...and that's why Ferengi's have such big ears." said Riker.

Hutch stared at him good naturedly, his rictus grin frozen on his face.

"Get it? Sound's free..."

Hutch shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Will, I don't mind a little coarse ethnic humor. But we've got plenty of Ferengis in Star Fleet, and they are good people and, they are essential to the health of this operation.."

Imagine if you will, a dark vale dropping across Captain Riker's face. For truly, Riker's worst nightmare had sprang to life. Hutchinson sat before him, a balding doughy shrine to political correctness. Riker could not say exactly what political correctness was, but he knew that was the very spector that haunted the dreams of every standup comedian, boorish uncle, and misogynistic pig. It was a great force of evil that permeated the universe much like gravity or original sin and it worked assiduously to prevent Riker from having any fun. Hutchinson was his commanding officer, and Hutchinson was telling Riker to respect his fellow beings. Riker had only had a couple of gears in his gearbox, and respecting others was not one of them.

"Of course, I have nothing but respect for Ferengis. Some of my best friends are Ferengi." lied Riker.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that. If there's one thing we've learned here in the future is that space racism is bad. You know, a lot of people told me it was crazy to take you on. That you were lazy, morally suspect, a drunk, a scoundrel, a leacher, a moocher, a card cheat, and that you smelled weird. But Admiral Picard said that it was all nonsense, and he really vouched for your character."

Picard called Riker "Number One", but that was in name only. In reality, a robot named Data functioned as second-in-command in large part because Picard could never trust a human. Humans could be controlled by a super intelligent space trilobite. Plus the one time Picard did leave Riker in charge, he returned to find that the ship's counselor (and, might I add, Riker's former girlfriend) had been turned into a salamander.

Picard loved having Riker on his crew for two reasons, getting wasted with Riker was always a blast, and he possessed an almost supernatural ability to score lots of pills at any time. And Picard need those pills just to stay functional. So great was Picard's gratitude, he was willing lie about Riker's abilities to anybody and everybody. "Riker is simply the finest officer with whom I have ever served." he said time and time again with little variance, and at times he meant it.

"'...with whom I have ever served!' said Admiral Hutchinson. "And we need someone like you. A man of action. A man of passion! I think you can really shake things up around here. And you've come along at the right time. I know you've had some experience with the J'naii."

Riker nodded solemnly, "I'm something of a J'naii expert if you don't mind me saying. J'naii is a planet populated solely by lesbians in Moe Howard haircuts. And man are they thirsty! Thirsty for dick!"

"Er, the J'naii are not lesbians. They're androgynous."

"Does androgynous mean 'crazy for cock'?"

"What I'm getting at is that the J'naii are entering a critical phase of negotiations, and the Federation would like to have a presence. I think that presence should absolutely be the U.S.S Nancy Pelosi!

From that moment Riker knew that this would a serious assignment, and he would need serious provisions. One kilo of Columbian cocaine, a handle of Tanqueray, a handle of Tito's Vodka, three pounds of Matanuka Tundra Fuck (sweetest grass there is), a whole hell a lot of boxed wine (the cheapest the Remmler Array had to offer), two handles of Knob Creek, a bottle of Balcones Baby Blue Corn Whiskey, 60 Benzos, 60 Xanax, three sheets of double-dipped LSD (each sheet with 32 Dumbos), a gallon of ether, two bottles of Obetrol, and a quart of tequila.

Worf was incredulous as he watched Captain Riker load the supplies.

"I didn't realize it was possible to score LSD at the Remmler Array."

"Worf, it's called connections."