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{ed Please folks, no more trek parodies.}

	And now, in further more reasonably exciting continuation of
the Parody of the Month Club's Star Trek season, we follow with the
second part of Star Trek the Degeneration - Encounter at Centrepoint.

======================================================================

   We left the plot with Commander William Stryker having just seen
the plot summary on the holo-viewer, and docked the Enterprise
manually.  He now strides with great purpose toward Captain Pickaxe's
cabin.
   "Enter."
   "Hardly a run of the mill happening, sir."
   "Nonsense - I go in and out of doors all the time."
   "I meant the encounter with Q, sir."
   "Hmm, yes, of course you did.  By the way, congratulations on the
docking - a routine maneuver, but you carried it out with a minimal
special effects budget.  Would you mind if I asked you a few
questions?"
   "Not at all sir - after all, you are the captain."
   "So, a Captain's rank means nothing to you?"
   "No sir, you're reading the wrong bit of the script - there's
several lines before we get to that bit."
   "Oh, yes, hmm, first question then Mr Stryker - what is a
Shakespearian actor like myself doing acting in a space-bound farce
like this?"
   "Permission to speak candidly, sir?"
   "Always."
   "The producers needed something to justify the amount of money we
spend on each episode, so they hired a bald Englishman to play a
Frenchman and add some culture."
   "If they wanted culture, they could have hired yoghurt."
   "Maybe so, sir, but they didn't want anything to out-act the rest
of the cast.  Except the scenery, of course."
   "Second question - you refused to let your previous Captain to beam
down to Thestus four - Why?"
   "Because I had to watch after the ratings on such a dangerous
planet."
   "He sent ordinary red-jersey personnel down to Thestus four?"
   "No sir, not that sort of ratings - I was trying for 'most popular
hero in a hazardous alien environment' award, and I wasn't going to
let the Captain hog all my glory."
   "So a Captain's rank means nothing to you?"
   "On the contrary, sir - I think my personal ratings would soar if I
were a Captain.  Besides, the special effects were too dangerous for a
man of his age."
   "I see.  In that case, I'd appreciate it if you'd use that same
sense of self-grandisement and preservation of senior citizens to stop
me from doing that which I am most prone to."
   "What, being an ass with children?"
   "No, I mean to stop me surrendering my ship every time we meet the
Ferengi.  Now go and find Data, and take it down to Denim 4.  See if
you can find something that we can shoot Q with."

   Stryker turns and heads off to the bridge.  We accompany him,
courtesy of the shaky cameraman with him.

   "Mr Rowf - where is Commander Data?"
   "He's escorting a visiting admiral back to the Hood.  They're
taking the shuttle craft."
   "Why don't they teleport across?"
   "I don't know, sir - it never seemed to bother the Admiral when he
was with Kirk.  Still, he is a remarkably crotchety old codger.
According to Federation Records, he's been that way for the last
hundred and thirty four years."

   "But Admiral, I don't see why you couldn't just beam across to the
Hood."  (I hope you noticed the scene shift there - we're now walking
down one of the Enterprise's interminable twisty little corridors, all
alike)
   "You got any reason why you want my atoms scattered from here to
kingdom come, boy?"
   "Would a deeply ingrained hatred of bigoted medics do as a reason?
Besides, I would have thought that at your age..."
   "How old do you think I am?"
   "One hundred thirty five years six months twenty four days six
hours and thirty seven minutes, according to Federation Records.
You're Gemini, and you were born in the year of the pig.  Your
favourite music is by Stock Aitken and Waterman, you have practically
no brains, and your wrinkly make-up is only narrowly less convincing
than the wig you wore in Star Trek V."
   "How d'you know all that, boy?  Ah don't see no pointy ears."
   "I beg your pardon, sir?"
   "Ah said, AH DON'T SEE NO POINTY EARS!  Whole lot of green make-up
and some fluorescent contact lenses, yes, but no pointy ears."
   "I fail to see the connection, sir."
   "You're sure you ain't a Vulcan?"
   "No sir, I am an android - a perfect replica of a human being,
except for the brain, the skin, the eyes, and certain bodily parts
out of proportion."
   "Almost as bad."
   "I thought the Vulcans were viewed as a civilised and honorable
race."
   "They are, but they're downright annoying - give 'em some pointy
ears, they think they can direct movies.  How much further is the
shuttle bay, anyway?"
   "Another six lines of script away, sir.  It's a far bigger
Enterprise than you're used to."
   "So how come the turbo-lifts can still only fit three people?  But
never mind - she's got the right name - you remember that.  Treat her
like a lady, she'll always bring you home."
   "How come you made it every episode?"

   Another scene-shift now, as we move on board the bridge of the
Enterprise, where Jean-Luc Pickaxe has just arrived.
   "Did you signal the Hood?"
   "Yes Captain - your exact words - 'My dog has no nose.'"
   "And what was his reply?"
   "You're wasting time, Captain."  the basso profundi along with a
standard echo effect on the voice heralds the arrival of Q.
   "Ha!  I knew it!  He's forgotten the punchline again!"
   "No, mon capitaine - 'tis I, your erstwhile antagonist."
   The entire cast swing round to face the viewer where Q's face has
appeared.  He is wearing a charming little black snood, and his best
mean expression.
   "Mr Rowf - put down your gun.  Would you shoot the viewer screen?"
   "I'm a Klingon sir - what did you expect?"
   "Oh excellent, my dear captain - your species is living up to my
best hopes."
   "In case you hadn't noticed, Q, he's a Klingon - the only one on
this ship with the back-combed forehead.  We only keep him here to get
around the Commission for Racial Equality."
   "Very well captain, but be warned - you have only twelve more hours
to solve this mystery, or your lives are forfeit." and with an evil
cackle, his image fades away.
   Calm is once more restored to the bridge, and Pickaxe makes his way
down to the teleport bay.  Along the way, he picks up Commander
Stryker.

   "Commander Stryker, I want you to accompany the away team on this
mission.  I'll introduce you to the other members of the team in a
moment.  For now, I want you to meet the ship's councillor, Day'n'a
Night."
   As if by magic, as they turn the corner, the woman is standing
there.  It's very easy to hit your cues when you're telepathic.
   A mysterious disembodied voice rings out across the corridor: "Do
you remember what I taught you all those years ago?"
   Stryker says nothing, but a dopey smile plays across his face.
"We've met before, Captain."
   "I'm not surprised, Stryker - she seems to be on intimate terms
with anything in trousers.  Now, come with me to Grappler Zorn's
residence - we wish to discuss whether they can offer Green Shield
Stamps or not."

   Another scant scene-change later, and we find ourselves in the
Grappler's dingy little hole.
   "Grappler Zorn, we are very impressed with the speed with which you
have built this space station.  We feel we have much to learn from
your techniques."
   "Well, our methods are simple - we have good engineers, we design
our structures well, and any illegal aliens we can find work like
buggery for next to nothing.  We modeled that bit on your own system
of a few centuries ago."
   "Agreed, Grappler, but you've used construction materials and
methods we can't even begin to guess at.  We would like to ask your
engineers to explain them to the boffins at Star Fleet Headquarters."
   "I'm sorry Captain, but we Bandy are very simple folk - we do not
enjoy leaving our home world."
   "Not even on a visiting lectureship basis?"
   "Captain, you are asking an awful lot of awkward questions, and the
plot really isn't advancing.  I could sell this station to other
interested parties with less complicated scripts - the Ferengi for
instance..."
   Zorn is cut off by a slight whimper from Day'n'a.
   "What is it, Councillor?"
   "Do you want me to say in front of the Grappler, sir?"
   "Of course, we have no secrets here.  Do we, Grappler?"
   "Discounting one super-powerful alien being on each side, no
secrets that I know of."
   "Very well, sir." Day'n'a's face contorts in a desperate attempt to
avoid method acting. "I feel a great pain, anguish, despair..."  her
voice pans out gradually.
   "Loss?"
   "Yes, loss, and ... desolation, and sadness, disappointment,
disillusionment, unhappiness, distrust, and - and - um - and - well,
thingy."
   "Thank you Day'n'a - stop padding your parts any more than that.
Is it one of the Grappler's people?"
   "No sir - it's much bigger than that. Whatever it is feels deep
resentment, loss, loneliness..."
   "We'd better teleport up to the Enterprise for a new dictionary."

   Aboard the Enterprise once more, Beverly Crusher is examining Jordi
la Farce.  To be more precise, she's examining the bit of gold-painted
corrugated cardboard through which he pretends to see.  She hands it
back to Jordi, who fits it into the retaining bolts either side of his
head.  Shades of Frankenstein there, hmm?
   "Like you say, doc - it's a fascinating piece of engineering - they
spray a piece of cardboard with gold paint, and immediately I can see
the whole e-m spectrum, infra-red, X-ray, ultra-violet - you wouldn't
believe how much I can see of that cute blonde in securi...ACKK!"
   "Shame it's not 360 degree vision, eh Jordi?"
   "Urgle, gack ickle hi, Nasher."
   "Hi yourself - you're to come with us on the away team."
   "Sure - what we playing?  Basketball or football?"

   Meanwhile, Stryker is once more on his eternal quest for Data.  He
stops a grinning flunky - the only walk-on part with a voice.
   "Excuse me - could you tell me where I might find Commander Data?"
   "Yes sir - you must be new to this series."
   "We all are - this is the pilot episode."
   "No, sir - I mean this series of space craft - the Galaxy series.
Simply press the panel here and ask the computer.  Like this.
COMPUTER!!! TELL ME THE LOCATION OF COMMANDER DATA." she yells.
   "One chicken soup coming up, Dave."
   "Excuse me, sir, the computer's on loan from another series.  We're
just ironing out the bugs.  COMPUTER, IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHERE THAT
ANDROID IS, YOU'RE GOING TO BE STARING DOWN THE BOTTOM OF YOUR
BIT-BUCKET FOR THE NEXT TWENTY YEARS."
   "All my circuits are functioning normally, Dave - I suggest that if
you have any problems dealing with computers, you should talk to
Commander Data."
   "WHERE THE HELL IS HE THEN, COMPUTER?"
   "That sentence does not compute, Dave - I suggest you query
Commander Data as to the correct syntax."
   "I'll kill that fardling computer one of these days."
   "Correct syntax, Dave - Commander Data is on the holo-deck.  Please
follow the bouncing ball, and sing along when it bounces on the
words."
   A panel lights up along the wall, and as Stryker follows it, the
bouncing ball keeps pace with him.  Two choruses of 'Follow The Yellow
Brick Road' later, and he stands before the door marked HOLODECK.  The
door opens with its customary hiss, and Stryker is momentarily
silhouetted against a bad Chromakey of Kew Gardens, before the camera
angle changes and we find him troggling through lush vegetation.  A
badly out-of-tune whistling is what finally leads him to Commander
Data, who is sat against a tree trying to whistle a nursery rhyme.
Stryker assists in the final verse, attracting Data's attention.
   "Amazing."
   "What is?"
   "The way humans do that so easily."
   "What, whistle?"
   "No, remind you how badly out of tune you are."
   "Never mind that - you're coming with me and the rest of the away
team - we need to examine Farpoint, and your analytical abilities are
needed, along with your logical mind.  Without a Vulcan, you're the
next best thing.  Shame you're an android, really."
   "That's another thing I hate about humans - they're so prejudiced.
Unlike us machines."
   As they walk towards the exit, the discussion ranges on to such
topics as how the holo-deck works.  It's important to remember this,
because it leads to an explanation of why the holo-deck is used for so
many of the future episodes.  I'll skip over it, and carry on to the
bit where a loud noise reaches the two officers - a noise that chills
their very corpuscles.
   "Oh no - Wesley's found us."
   "Hey, Wesley, come an join us - the stepping stones are the safest
route!"
   "Yeah, especially the middle one - it's very stable - bounce up and
down on it for a while."
   The inevitable happens, and cheers break out around the audience as
they finally notice that Wesley is in a life-threatening situation.
   "Hey, we've finally found out how to get rid of Wesley!"
   "Yeah, but who are they going to replace him with?"
   "According to Star Fleet Records, they're going to use one of
Esther Ranzen's 'Children of Courage'."
   "You'd better fish Wesley out then."
   Data bounds over to the stones, leaping with a grace and speed only
available to androids with Air-Wear soles.  He reaches Wesley just as
the little sucker is about to go under for the third time, and hauls
him out of the water with one hand.  Wesley shows suitable admiration.
   "Wow!  Pee Wee Herman!"
   "Come on - we'd better get you out of here before you start
climbing the fake trees."
   Outside in the corridor, Wesley and Stryker meet Captain Pickaxe,
who takes one look at Wesley before showing how good he's become with
children.
   "Get that out of here - I will not tolerate drips on my spaceship."
   "I guess I'd better find a towel, sir."
   "Don't bother - just climb into a torpedo tube and press the red
button."

   The away team has finally been assembled, and is beamed down to
Farpoint.  Underneath the marketplace is where we find them, having
decided that nothing of interest was happening on the surface.
   "Jordi, can you make any sense out of these corridors?"
   "No sir - they're made out of nothing I've ever seen before, or
even heard of."
   "In that case, I suggest you borrow the video library's copy of
Aliens.  Day'n'a, what do you sense?"
   "I've tried not to open my mind, sir - the emotions are very
strong."
   "Please, I'd like you to open it."
   "Very well sir, but only one end."
   For a woman who appears to have had an intimate relationship with
Stryker, how come she's so formal towards him?
   "What do you feel now?"
   "Loneliness, longing, despair - should I go on?"
   "No - they'll think we sell thesauri.  Let's head for the Bandy
city."

   Back on the bridge of the Enterprise, things are proceeding fairly
normally.  There is a soft 'ping', and the turbo-lift doors open.  Bev
Crusher strides onto the bridge for some reason that I can't quite
remember.
   "Dr Crusher - I believe I made it clear that no children were to be
allowed on the bridge."
   "Yes, Captain, but you will notice that Wes is not actually on the
bridge - he's cowering in the turbo-lift."
   "Maybe, but you will notice that he has his hand on the 'Open Door'
button, which not only ties up the turbo-lift at this level, but also
means that we have to listen to an unending stream of lift music.  If
he must stay at this floor, get him out of the lift please."
   "Onto the bridge, sir?  Wow!" and with a grin usually reserved for
stoned idiots, Wesley leaps onto the bridge.
   "Care to try the captain's chair, Wes?"
   "Gee, can I?  Huh, huh, can I? Huh?"
   "Yes, Wesley.  Now, these buttons here control armament and
shields, this panel is my communications centre, this one monitors
life support, and these ..."
   "... control the vending machines and Space Invader games."
   A red light starts flashing, and Wesley starts punching buttons.
   "Leave those alone.  You don't know what they do."
   "Yes I do - they're the scanner controls."
   "Oh, is that what they do?  So, what's the problem?"
   "Perimeter alert, sir.  Shall I shoot it?"
   "No, Rowf - leave it alone - put it on the viewer, full
magnification.  If you really do want something to shoot at, use the
kid for target practice if he touches anything other than the
turbo-lift buttons on his way out."
   The ship appears on the viewer as Wesley skids into the turbo-lift.
   "Sir, sensors indicate it's modeled on an ELO album cover.  Can I
shoot it now?"
   "No, Rowf - leave it alone."
   "Sir, sensors indicate we were just scanned. Now can I shoot it,
huh? please? huh? huh?"
   "Retaliatory action, Rowf - scan them back."
   "Aww, not even a tiny photon torpedo, huh?"
   "Shut up Rowf - we don't want Q to hear."
   "Hear what, mon capitaine?  Go on Rowf, shoot the alien git!"
   "Ignore him, Rowf.  Carry on scanning."
   "Sir, sorry to be repetitive, but sensors indicate it's firing on
the Bandy city.  Can we join in?"
   "Rowf, please try to be civilised.  Lock the phasors on the ship.
Start broadcasting standard message to that ship."
   "Standard message?  You mean 'We surrender' in all major
languages?"
   "That's the one.  Now put me in contact with the away team."

   "Stryker here, captain.  The Bandy city's being shot at."
   "Yes, we know - see if you can find the Grappler and kidn- I mean,
rescue him.  Bring him aboard when you find him."
   "Yes sir.  Come on Data - run towards the Chromakey backdrop of the
city."
   A quick change of scenery later, and we are once again in the
Grappler's pad.  The Grappler himself is crouched underneath his desk,
muttering incoherently.  Stryker and Data arrive and approach him with
phasors set on Stun.
   [Design note on phasors - all the settings are marked Stun.  There
are small signs of previous marks having been scratched out, all of
which read 'Kill'.]
   "Grappler Zorn, you're coming with us."
   "No, please, no - it wasn't me - I didn't do it - it was somebody
else - probably the Ferengi - yes, that was it - the Ferengi - those
Vulcanoids with the cauliflower ears - they did it.  Eep!"
   And with this last, he disappears completely from view.
   "Data, did you say 'One to beam up'?"
   "No sir, did you?"
   "Not that I recall.  Stryker to Enterprise - did you just beam
somebody up?"
   "Crackle no, crackle crackle Q crackle crackle teapot."
   "In which case two to beam up."

   Back on the bridge, Q is beginning to really get on Captain
Pickaxe's nerves.
   "Q, if you have no sensible comments to make, will you please get
out of the way.  And stop doing that - those security guards are
expensive."
   "Okay, you want a sensible comment, try teleporting some of your
people over onto that ship."
   "I cannot do that - we don't know what it's like - our scanners
can't get through the exo-shell."
   "Sir, with your permission, I'd like to take an away team across
there."
   "Very well, Commander Stryker - make your way with Day'n'a, Data
and Yar to the teleport bay.  Now, buzz off, Q."

   The scene changes to the alien ship.  Well, actually, it's the set
used for the tunnels under the Bandy city, which is rather useful in
saving on scenery construction costs.
   "Same construction as the tunnels under the Bandy city."
   "Yes, we were running short of money.  Day'n'a, why have you got
that idiot grin on your face?"
   "Sir, I feel great happiness, tremendous satisfaction, enormous
glee, big fun, large enjoyment..."
   "Can we do that without the thesaurus?"
   "Whose is the satisfaction?  One of the ship's crew?"
   "Sort of - it's coming from all around - I think it's the ship in
general.  Oh, and one other thing - the Grappler's ahead, and he's
pretty narked about something."
   The team jog around the corner, into a section which looks
surprisingly like the corridor they just left, but from a different
camera angle.  In the middle of the corridor, Grappler Zorn appears to
be perfecting his levitation trick.  Four feet above the floor, he is
writhing in the grip of an ominous nebulous something.  His screams
echo around the corridor.
   "No, ah, no, please, no, don't - please, don't tickle me any more!"
   Setting their phasors to stun, Data and Stryker fire on the ominous
nebulous something.  The Grappler immediately falls floorwards, where
he bounces off a conveniently placed crash-mat.
   "Enterprise, five to beam over."

   Back on the bridge, the plot is explained for the thickies.
   "Broadcast to the planet to evacuate the Farpoint space station."
   "Yes sir. Immediately, sir."
   "And Lieutenant Yar, rig the phasor banks to deliver an energy
beam."
   "Oh yes, just like that, sir."
   "Why not? If that kid can change a tractor beam into a repulsor
field to destroy several billion megaboodles worth of starship, surely
you can change an aggressive plasma beam weapon into a pleasing purple
energy source.  Now, fire it on the Farpoint burger bar."

   The Farpoint space-station, looking rather like an overgrown
drawing pin (thumb tack for the American amongst you), shimmers
delicately, as the energy beam hits it.  It melts almost convincingly
into an amorphous blob of glowing white.
   "Sir, the space station is not absorbing any more energy.  Shall I
stop the beam?"
   "No Yar, we're going to drain the entire batteries of the
Enterprise. What do you think, huh?"
   "Yes sir, sorry sir, no need for sarcasm, sir."
   
   The amorphous blob gradually lifts itself free from the planetary
surface.  At the same time, the alien ship starts glowing, and unfolds
itself.  The two glowing blobs finally show some signs of form, in the
shape of celestial jellyfish.  As they meet one another, tentative
tentacles reach out and meet in a soft (albeit squishy) caress.
Everyone watching barfs gently as the only romantic part of the movie
is revealed to involve two alien life-forms with about as much
sex-appeal as one of Calvin's packed lunches.  As they float off into
the distance hand in hand in hand in hand in hand (or rather, flobby
organ in flobby organ...), Day'n'a speaks somebody else's mind.
   "Sir, I have a feeling of immense gratitude, great thanks,
enormous appreciation..."
   "What, that we've given them the energy to go off into the unknown
together?"
   "No sir, they're pleased that this parody is finally finished."
======================================================================

Well, that's that - hope you enjoyed it all.

Cheerio!

P.S. One last thing - I noticed an eery tendency during writing this
file to try and kill off Wesley Crusher.  Is it just me, or does
everyone feel this way?

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