| rdfs:comment
| - This all took place onboard the starship Enterprise NCC-1701-CC, a Paragon (more like parody) class starship. The year was 4000A.D. (oh, I mean C.E.!) On the bridge of the Enterprise NCC-1701-CC, Captain James Holliday sat in his command chair (as always) looking out the viewscreen. He was bored half out of his wits (well, who wouldn't be? There is absolutely nothing going on!) "Mr. Chart," Captain Holliday said to the android at the ops station (remind you of someone?) "Scan for hostiles." "I have already done that, sir. There are none." Chart said. "Then, why are we here?" Holliday asked.
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| abstract
| - This all took place onboard the starship Enterprise NCC-1701-CC, a Paragon (more like parody) class starship. The year was 4000A.D. (oh, I mean C.E.!) On the bridge of the Enterprise NCC-1701-CC, Captain James Holliday sat in his command chair (as always) looking out the viewscreen. He was bored half out of his wits (well, who wouldn't be? There is absolutely nothing going on!) "Mr. Chart," Captain Holliday said to the android at the ops station (remind you of someone?) "Scan for hostiles." "I have already done that, sir. There are none." Chart said. "Then, why are we here?" Holliday asked. "Because this is where I put you." I, the writer, said. "Just wait a minute." "Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight--" Holliday began. "Shut up Holliday!" I said. Suddenly, a Romulan-- "No! No! No! I am so sick and tired of Romulans I have no idea what to do! Pick some other race!" Holliday interrupted me rudely. All right, a Constipation class starship dropped out of warp. "Constipation class? I thought it was Constitution class." Holliday said. "Who's the writer here?" I asked. "Grr . . . Open hailing frequencies Mr. Twain." Said Holliday. "Excuse me Captain, but I am from the nineteenth century, and I don't how the heavens to work this contraption." Said the author Samuel Clemens who's pen name was Mark Twain (hmm, oddly familiar, eh?). He was behind the tactical console that also worked as the communications console. "You know what? I'll hail them." I said and I did so. "Lo nach Ba'ro Jo'ma Kuik dosee klaklak Enterprikee!" Said the man that looked like James Kirk from the original Star Trek. "Uh, we come in peace." Said Holliday. "Captain, I am sensing-- sensing-- hey, writer, what am I supposed to be sensing?" Asks the half-human, half-Betazoid counselor. "You are sensing . . . A powerful mind! That's it!" I said. "Captain, I am sensing a pow--" The counselor began. "Don't bother Counselor." Holliday said. "Look, I couldn't understand a word you just said." Holliday said. "He said, 'I am Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise.'" I said. "You speak that crap?" Asked Holliday. "Yeah, I am the writer; I made the language up. Don't call it crap Holliday, or I'll write you out so fast your head will spin!" I threatened. "Prepare a boarding party." Said Holliday.
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