[I posted this on the other site a few months ago, but it belongs here now. This time, I've trackbacked to Wil Wheaton's site. It's only right that he know.]
[Phoebe from "Friends" beams up to the Enterprise, and spends a few days with the "Star Trek" crew. She befriends the shy young ensign Wesley Crusher. One night, Wesley prepares a romantic candlelight dinner for Phoebe on the holodeck. However, since his mother, Dr. Beverly Crusher, doesn't trust Phoebe (after curing her of twelve different social diseases in Sick Bay), she asks Lt. Worf, the bad-tempered Klingon officer, to chaperone the date.]
Wesley: Phoebe, you look ... wonderful. Shall we eat?
Phoebe: Yeah. This is, like, an amazing restaurant. I didn't know you see the Eiffel Tower from space!
Wesley: Well, actually, we're in the holodeck. You see, I programmed the computer to simulate a Parisian restaurant on Earth, and a combination of this specialized sensory grid and nanotechnology work to ...
Phoebe: Uh, hello? Earth to ... wherever we are ... never mind, okay? [smiles and begins to eat] So, am I the first girl you've brought to this place?
Wesley: No, but you're the first WOMAN ...
Phoebe: [flattered] You're kind of cute. Say, I know something the two of us can do between courses ...
Wesley: Really? What?
Worf: [sitting alone at the next table] Hmmmph.
Phoebe: Calm down, Mr. Shar-pei Head, you can be dessert!
Worf: [glowering] Doctor Crusher would not approve.
Phoebe: Ohhh. Jealous type. I gotcha. [to Wesley] I know she's your mother and all, but she's like, so uptight!
Wesley: [nods vigorously with his mouth full.]
Phoebe: I mean, you're what? Sixteen? Seventeen?
Wesley: [swallows] Thirty-eight.
Phoebe: Whoa!
Wesley: But Mom keeps me younger-looking with hormone therapy, so that nobody will guess her true age.
Phoebe: Thirty-eight! And you've never ... had a WOMAN ... in this holodeck?
Wesley: Not yet ...
[Phoebe and Wesley jump up and sweep everything off the table. Dishes and glassware shatter. They mount the table and begin to pull off each other's clothes in a frenzy. Polyester earth-tone clothing flies off in all directions. Worf jumps up, but his mile-wide streak of prudery prevents him from intervening directly. He attempts to contact Doctor Crusher by communicator, but discovers the signal is jammed.]
Worf: Computer! Arch!
Computer: Sh-h-h, hold your horses. I'm taping this one to sell on the Internet.
Stumble it!
Hee! Great.
Posted by: jo | June 16, 2004 at 06:30 PM