[All reenter the theater]
Crow: Thanks guys! That was fun!
Tom: And a bit nauseating! Where did you get that sandwich from?
Crow: Umm... You don't wanna know!
>(Scene 4--engineering)
>Torres: Damn it!...DAMN IT!
All: [Chanting] DAMN IT! DAMN IT! DAMN IT!
>(She strikes the console hard with the heel of her hand)
Crow: [Torres] STUPID TECHNOLOGY! WORK!
>Chakotay: Take it easy, B'Elanna
>Torres: I can't find anything wrong with our sensors, or the holodeck.
Tom: [Torres] So I'm going to beat up this panel until something goes
wrong!
>Janeway: Well, something IS wrong with the holodeck. The little girl
>in my Gothic holo-novel program is going around giving wedgies all
>over the English countryside.
Crow: [Falsetto] Tra-la-la, la-la, YOINK! Tra-la-la, la-la, YOINK!
>Torres: Tell me again, Tom, what the hell happened in the holodeck?
Joel: Playing pool, trying to play holo pimp with Harry, pissed of a
holo-biker, Harry got the wedgie from hell. That's about it, really!
>Paris: B'Elanna, I've explained it six times! I don't remember
>anything else!
Crow: [Paris] I'm stupid! Leave me alone!
>Chakotay: Your poor memory is another indication of a bad work
>attitude.
Tom: Or maybe he's just stupid?
>Change it, Mr. Paris, or I'll have you thrown in the brig.
Joel: You guys get the feeling Chakotay would throw Paris in the brig
for breathing too hard?
>Torres violently kicks a wall panel; sparks fly in the air)
Crow: [Torres] STUPID WALL PANEL! I HATE YOU!
IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU!!!
>Torres: I have to know how that wedgie happened! Tell me, Starfleet!
Joel: Well, first you come up behind your target, you grab the waistband
of their skivvies...
>Paris: I don't know what to say.
Tom: Umm, Tom? IT'S A WEDGIE! There ain't much to describe!
>You're asking me to explain an ancient ritual that only the
>Cardassians, or Klingons, or whoever have re-popularized...
>Torres: (screaming) Klingons don't give cowardly wedgies!
Joel: [Torres] We prefer Pink Bellies!
>Klingons are warriors who attack head-on, not from the rear!
Crow: ... Nah! Too easy!
Joel and Tom: Thank you!
>(She swings the heel of her hand hard onto Paris's face;
All: HAIKEEBA!!!
>blood flies everywhere; Paris collapses)
{All cheer]
>Janeway: That's it, B'Elanna. You're on report.
Tom: That's awful calm for just having had your helmsman brained.
Crow: I get the feeling the crew wouldn't mind if Paris got sucked out
an airlock or assimilated.
Joel: Or someone just beat him up.
>Tuvok: This scan shows that his neck and nose are broken. There are 17
>more fractures on his face and skull. His life is in danger.
Crow: Man! Klingon PMS is a bitch!
Joel: Crow...
Tom: Now that's just uncalled for!
>Janeway: Tuvok, take him to sick bay. B'Elanna, go to your quarters,
>and take a cold shower
Joel: A cold shower for a violent outburst?
Tom: Well, she is half Klingon...
Crow: Kinky!
>Torres: (head bowed) I'm sorry Captain.
Crow: [Torres] I'm filled with shame.
>Janeway: No replicator privileges for one week. If Lieutenant Paris
>should die, then it's two weeks.
Joel: Um...What privileges? They're all on rations, aren't they?
Tom: Hmm...Two weeks with no privileges for nearly crushing someone's
head, Neelix doesn't even get a reprimand for nearly poisoning the crew,
but Tom gets threatened with arrest for being stupid?
Crow: Voyager has a strict "No Dumb Jerk" policy?
>Torres: But Captain!
>Janeway: You heard me!
>(Tuvok, Paris and Torres leave)
Tom: Shouldn't they be doing some sort of emergency transport if Paris
is in that kind of danger?
Crow: Nah! It's just Paris. No rush.
>Chakotay: That was unnecessarily harsh, Captain. I think you're
>picking on her because she was a Maquis.
Joel: I thought it was because the nearly caved Paris' skull in, but I
guess I'm wrong.
Tom: And I suppose the great Chakotay would have handled better, hmmm?
>You should have let me handle it.
Crow: If you... know what I mean!
>Janeway: (suave smile) Now that we're alone, I kind of like the idea
>of handling you...Red Man...
Tom: "Red Man," That's nice!
Joel: She really a hand's on kind of captain, isn't she?
>Chakotay: Captain, please!
Crow: May I have another?
>Janeway: (deep, sultry voice) I took a look at your personal Starfleet
>records, Chakotay.
Tom: [Janeway] Your turn-ons are body art, long walks in the holodeck,
and sharing a peace pipe with that "special someone!"
>You've got those funny little tattoos all over your body. Let's see if
>any of them will rub off on your captain...
Joel: Oh, man! It IS the Hornyverse Janeway!
>Doctor: (on speaker) Doctor to Captain Janeway. We have had two more
>stealth wedgie attacks!
Crow: [Doctor] Dammit, Captain! I'm a doctor, not a hall monitor!
>Janeway: Have Tuvok issue a ship-wide intruder alert. I want the
>senior staff in my ready room, right now!
Tom: Yes, Captain Mood Swing!
>Scene 5
Joel: Take two.
Crow: ...point 5.
Tom: Revision C
>--Captain's ready room)
>Chakotay: Where's Paris? He's 10 minutes late...again.
Tom: I think he's busy not dying, Chakotay.
>Doctor: (on screen) He's still comatose. But I've just upgraded him
>from "Near Death" to "Grave".
Joel: [Chakotay] Well give him something that will put him at "Organ
Donor!"
>Chakotay: That's no excuse. He still late, and that shows a bad
>attitude. I'm placing him on report.
Crow: [Paris] But...Commander? I was unconscious and bleeding!
Tom: [Chakotay] That's no excuse. You have a responsibility!
Crow: But...But I was nearly killed like, ten minutes ago!
Tom: Doesn't matter!
>Janeway: As you wish, Commander. So, what's your latest view of this
>wedgie situation?
Joel: [Chakotay] I'd prefer not to view the wedgies, Captain!
>Chakotay: So far we have had five confirmed stealth wedgies. The
>victims have been Mr. Kim, Kes, Mr. Neelix, and now Mr. Tuvok and the
>doctor.
Tom: Whom, except for Harry, have been annoyed at worst. So what's the
big deal?
Crow: Well, there is the off chance that whoever is doing this is going
to do something actually dangerous?
Joel: And this being Janeway, she probably hopes it's some uncharted
life form they can inadvertently enrage into trying to kill them.
>Doctor: Captain, as a matter of dignity, I demand that you do not
>refer to me as a recipient of this barbarism! I am a holographic
>image!
Crow: Joel? How DO you give a wedgie to a hologram?
Joel: really fast?
>I lack a digestive tract! The attempted wedgie...
>Janeway: Turn off the sound! (Chakotay turns sound off; the Doctor
>keeps yammering)
Tom: And being totally pompous and self-absorbed, the doctor doesn't
notice.
Crow: Tee-hee! Being a jerk is fun!
>Janeway: One of these days we've got to re-program that annoying
>voice.
Joel: Some would say the same about you.
>Chakotay: It seems that even those without glutemal cleavage--like the
>Doctor and Neelix--can be victims, or at least attempted wedgie
>victims
Tom: Yes, even those without butt cracks can savor the sensations of the
wedgie.
Crow: Wedgies: Fun for the whole universe!
>Kim: What's 'glutemal cleavage'?
>Chakotay: Ass cracks.
>(Kim, Neelix and Kes giggle uncontrollably)
Joel: [Beavis and Butthead laugh] Huh-huh! He said "ass!"
>Janeway: (sternly) The rapport on this ship continues to stoop to
>lower levels of evacuation-chamber humor, and I will no longer
>tolerate it!
Tom: Did you watch season five? You could use a good dose of lowbrow!
>Chakotay: Yes, Captain.
>(There is a long, uncomfortable silence; Neelix, who is sitting next
>to the captain, narrows his eyes, and peers into her face)
All: SLEEEEEEP!!!
>Neelix: You know what I've just noticed, Captain?
Crow: [Neelix] I've just been begging for a beating this entire fic!
>You have a li-i-i-tle blonde moustache right on your upper lip.
Joel: Neat trick, considering she's a redhead.
Crow: We think.
Joel and Tom: Saaay!
>Janeway: Do you want a wedgie, Mr. Neelix? This one won't be just an
>attempt.
>Chakotay: That's not funny, Captain.
Tom: Threats usually aren't.
>Janeway: You're right. I apologize. Proceed.
Joel: With the wedige?
>Chakotay: It seems that Mr. Tuvok was hit from behind--as in all of the
stealth wedgie attacks--
Crow: Well it's kind of hard to deliver a wedgie head on.
Joel: Give them a break, Tom. They're not supposed to be familiar with
wedgies.
>while he was on the turbolift taking Mr. Paris to sickbay.
>Tuvok: (sternly, to Captain) I believe it was the second incident in
>one day of an unexpected hand on my posterior region while on a
>turbolift.
Joel: [Chakotay] Sorry! I just couldn't resist!
>Janeway: (smiling) It was just a little pinch, handsome. And I did
>warn you.
Tom: Ah, Computer? Some salt peter for the Captain, here?
>Tuvok: You are correct Captain. The more disturbing incident was the
>stealth wedgie. The violator was invisible.
Crow: Or really quick.
>Kes: How humiliating!
Joel: How uninteresting.
>Tuvok: I am incapable of humiliation.
Crow; [Tuvok] So bite me.
>Chakotay: Neelix, I just thought of something. If your species
>completely lacks a posterior opening...then how do you evacuate? If
>you don't mind me asking.
All: We mind!
Tom: Chakotay, I REALLY don't think you should have asked that!
>Neelix: Certainly.
Crow: [Neelix] Let me demonstrate!
Joel and Tom: NOOOO!!!
>We Talaxians have evolved to use epidermal transpiration.
Tom: You mean "sweat?"
>See these paw-like pads on my hands?
Crow: That explains why he doesn't mind why he and Kes don't sleep
together.
Tom: Ewww!
>This wet, waxy and rather foul-smelling semi-liquid which secretes and
>drips from them all day long is actually my bodily waste.
Joel: Oh, Man! I could have gone my whole life without reading that!
Tom: Not familiar with the phrase "TMI", are you Neelix?
>Chakotay: And what is that dry, powdery stuff also on your hands?
Crow: [Neelix] Oh, that's just the residue from the lines I did before
the meeting. You think I could stand you people sober?
>Neelix: Oh, that! When I was called to this meeting, I was just in the
>middle of kneading some dough for my famous Darbudian challah bread.
>Ve-r-ry tasty, if I must say so...
Joel: [Neelix] Once you ride out the numbness and trembling...
>Kim: Neelix, do you ever wash your hands?
>Neelix: Nah.
Crow: Oh, PUKE!!!
Joel: I feel the need to go brush my teeth now.
>Tuvok: We Vulcans are incapable of disgust. However, under the
>circumstances, I feel that revulsion is inevitable.
>Janeway: Let's get back to the matter at hand!
>Chakotay: Thank you, Captain. I'm trying to pull together common
>elements here...Harry wears boxers. Tuvok and Neelix wear briefs.
Tom: [Chakotay] I'm sporting a sporty g-string ...
>Kes, as far as underwear, do you wear boxers or briefs?
Crow: Don't know - Does a chastity belt count as briefs?
Joel: Boxers? When did Kes turn into a guy?
>Kes: Depends.
>Chakotay: Beg your pardon?
Tom: [Kes] Sometimes I feel like boxers, sometimes briefs, sometimes I
break out this racy little french number...
>Kes: Depends --ask the doctor--he found one before, wedged up my
>crack.
Crow: And the Space/Time continuum gets twisted around with that
anachronism.
Joel: And yet you had to have the Doctor tell you there was a diaper
shoved up your ass?
>Janeway: Gosh, I wish I had bought stock in those 'Depends' things way
>back when.
Tom: They'd make great keepsakes since the Federation doesn't use
money...
>Chakotay: I think we can narrow our suspects down to a technologically
>advanced race capable of great savagery.
Crow: And that narrows it down to... Every species they've ever met.
>Kim: But which is also very simple-minded, and not able to know which
>victims can or cannot physically receive wedgies.
Joel: Technically, if you're wearing underwear, you can get wedgied.
Tom: So then, this species hasn't mastered the fine art of wedgies?
Crow: I'm betting it was the Borg.
Tom: [Borg] Resistance is futile. You will be wedgied.
>Chakotay: Who would that be, in this part of space?
Joel: Let's see... The Kazon, the Borg, stray Klingons, a bored
engineering ensign, the ghosts of a hundred redshirts...
>Janeway: Mr. Tuvok! Stop urinating on the floor!
All: 0_o
Crow: Wha...?
Tom: Eww!
Joel: That can't be very sanitary.
Tom: [Neelix] Oh, tish-tosh! I do that all the time!
>Tuvok: Yes, Captain. Please excuse me. I believe I am still feeling
>the residual effects of my latest Vulcan mind-meld.
Joel: [Janeway] Have you been melding with the urinals again?
>Janeway: (rolls her eyes) Who did you mind-meld with this time?
>Tuvok: It was last week, during my investigation of the mess hall.
>Neelix: Oh, everyone's always picking on my cooking!
Tom: You'll notice that no one really picks AT your cooking, Neelix.
Crow: That's assuming they live that long!
>Tuvok: It seems that Mr. Neelix had a few organ meats in food storage
>that he was passing off as Talarian calves' brains.
>Janeway: Yes, I recall. They were delicious.
Joel: [Janeway] Once we got over that little wave of Talarian Mad Cow
Disease...
Tom: [Chakotay] Speak for yourself! I'm still resisting the urge to get
milked!
Crow: Oh is that what the kids are calling that in the future?
>Tuvok: One night, alone in the galley, I did a mind-meld with one of
>the brains, to make sure.
Tom: Umm... Strictly speaking, shouldn't a mind-meld only work on a
brain that still works?
Crow: I think Tuvok has some twisted variant of Pon Farr going on.
Joel: [Tuvok] Must...Have...The brains!
>They turned out to be canine, not bovine in nature.
Crow: So Neelix runs a Chinese restaurant?
Joel and Tom: Crow!
>Janeway: Dog brains!
>Tuvok: Precisely.
Tom: [Janeway] You specifically promised me squirrel brains, Neelix!
>Chakotay: I guess that explains the incident on the bridge yesterday,
>involving you and your rather vigorous attachment to Ensign Kim's leg.
All" Eww!!!
Tom: This fic is just flying off in all kinds of weird directions, isn't
it?
>Tuvok: Once again, I apologize, Ensign.
Joel: [Harry] S'okay! I kinda liked it, really!
>Janeway: It's been some rough week for our little Mr. Kim.
>Kim: Thanks, Captain. Thanks Lieutenant.
>Janeway: Well, don't start going around sniffing people's butts, Mr.
>Tuvok.
Crow: There's an image we could have all done without!
>There's a stealth Wedgie Master aboard this ship, and I wouldn't want
>your nose to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
>Tuvok: I will heed your logical counsel.
>Janeway: Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Tuvok?
Tom: [Tuvok] You want to hump my leg, too?
>Tuvok: I believe I am, Captain.
>Janeway: This meeting is adjourned. Let's reconvene on the bridge in
>one hour. Tuvok, you're with me.
Crow: [Janeway, sultry] Let's put those animal instincts to good use!
Tom: Gaah!
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