My name is Jaime T Quirk, captain of the Star Truck Enterprise. The T is for Tired; tired of driving this truck through space. Our mission is to keep the show on the air for five years so we can pick up the residuals. We are in the Toyota system in orbit around Lexus I, Lexus II, or Rocky XXX, whatever. It is star date 4775564547897659.999.77. That’s just the day. If I go for the month and year we could be here forever. The planet, whatever its name, is a class P type, which means its atmosphere is identical to earth. The rivers are polluted, there is acid rain, many species are extinct, and smog covers most of the cities. Makes you nostalgic for earth doesn’t it? Why am I driving a truck instead of a star ship? Why do you ask? Okay I’ll tell you. We are at war with the Dingdong Empire, and several months ago I was ordered back to Earth. As we approached earth I mistakenly took it for a Dingdong war buzzard (a common mistake). So I fired my photon torpedoes, and wiped out Australia. Nobody liked that; I told them I was sorry, but they took away my starship anyway, and gave me this eighteen-wheeler. Amazing what a few carpenters can do with a truck. I have a thousand officers and one crewman and they all fit.
The bridge is just like the Enterprise with a lot of whistles and beeps, and little red and green lights flashing. I never could figure out what they were for. My first officer, or number one (some think he is a number two), is a Fallopian. You can always tell a Fallopian by his ears. They are shaped like tubes. Mr. Smock, or Smock for short, always has all the answers; he is precise, accurate, and detailed. I can always count on him to get me out of trouble. Of course there were exceptions such as the Australian incident.
Then there is our ship’s doctor, Mr. Coy, affectionately known as Boner. A graduate of the University of Grenada he is well versed in diseases of the eyebrows, and would be invaluable should anybody ever come down with one. Next is our engineer, Mr. Spott, or Spotty. He keeps us running in first gear or overdrive. He is always hanging around the bridge, and I have been meaning to ask him why. Shouldn’t he be in the engine room with the engines?
I have two men sitting at consoles with a board of lighted switches that have no markings, so I have no idea how these guys know which one to press. But then maybe they don’t; it could have something to do with that Australian incident.
First there is Zulu, a former kamikaze pilot and very short. He likes to wear his samurai sword on the bridge and it keeps clanging around every time he presses a lighted unmarked switch. I can’t let him be helmsman because he keeps trying to fly into a planet yelling banzai. Checkup claims his people invented everything. He has a strange accent and it’s hard to understand him sometimes. He says he’s from Georgia, so it must be a southern accent, which may have something to do with that Australian incident. I’m going to get to the bottom of it sooner or later. Finally there is Oooohara the radio operator who sits in the same chair with her legs crossed twenty-four hours a day. She has one job and that is to open hailing frequencies, whatever they are, and to not be able to contact Starfleet. That’s two jobs isn’t it? Oooohara is quite beautiful except for this metallic object she has growing out of her left ear. It looks like it should hurt. Funny thing though, they all have the same first name: Mister. Mister Smock, Mister Zulu, Mister Spot, and Mister Ooohara.
“Alright crew, we’re on an important and dangerous mission here, and if I could remember what it was I would tell you. But first I want to ask a question that has been bothering me for some time. Mister Spot, why are you always on the bridge?”
“I can’t find the engine room sirrrrr.” I can’t even find the bathrrrroom.”
“Good answer Spotty. Keep your legs crossed that you’ll find one of them soon.”
“Alright Mister Zulu, report on the situation on the planets surface.”
“Aye sir. There is a force of twenty-three and a half Dingdongs on the planet. One of them is very short. They have captured all of the leaders of the planet and have defeated an army of 3.7 million, and that was just the short guy. All the Dingdongs are located in the royal palace. They are enjoying a smoke and blood wine celebration. We should cross the Delaware now sir. I mean, beam down and surprise them. If I could just dive a little closer to the planet, sir.”
“Never mind that Zulu just stay away from the helm. Your report is unsatisfactory Mister Zulu; there’s not enough detail. Mister Smock what is your evaluation of the situation?”
“There, now that’s what I call a detailed report. Excellent Mister Smock.”
“We need to assemble an away team to go away. That means everybody of any importance, such as everyone on the bridge. Ooohara send a message to Starfleet that we are going to the planet’s surface. Leave out the name of the planet until I figure out what it is.”
“Sorry sir, I can’t raise Starfleet. I can use hailing frequencies but there isn’t anyone to hail.”
“Never mind, everybody get to the transporter room and stand by to beam down.”
“Rrrrrememberrr the last time we all beamed down, therrre was nobody left that knew how to worrrk the trrransporrrrterrr and we werrre stuck on the planet for six months until a rrrescue ship arrrrrived?”
“Yeah, yeah I remember. That’s why we have a crewman on board instead of all officers. He’s got some smarts. Any other problems Spotty?”
“Yes sirrr. We can beam up but we can’t beam down. It’s one of the little things you don’t get after you destroy Australia.”
“Brilliant. OK Smock what do you think about that?”
I’ll tell you something. I always have hated Smock with his one-word answers and stupid ears.
I’ll bet he set me up on that Australian thing so he could be captain.
“Good answer Smock, but how do we get down to the surface?”
“Did you hear that crew?” We can float down using fascinating, interesting, parachutes. Fifty miles to the surface.”
“What now Spotty?”
“We’ll burn up in the atmosphere Captain.”
“Not if we go feet first and point our toes. Spotty go get parachutes for everyone on the away team.”
“Now what Spotty?”
“There haven’t been any parachutes for two centuries and …”
“Shut up Mister Spot and get them anyway.”
“Mister Ooohara, prepare the away team with all that is needed for the mission.”
“You mean …”
“Yes, two officers of lower rank to accompany us to the surface in case someone is killed. Naturally it can’t be one of us.”
“Will Ensigns and Cannon and Fodder please report to the bridge for away duty.”
“Mister Oohara would you please use the intercom next time.”
“YES SIR, I mean yes sir.”
“Here comes Spotty with the parachutes. Everybody strap one on with an oxygen bottle end and report to cargo bay one.”
“Aye sirrrr. Be carrreful these arrrre made from old bedsheets.”
“Good thinking Spotty. I’ll follow you guys to the cargo bay since I don’t know where it is.”
“It’s right through that there door yonder marked CARGO BAY ONE Captain.”
“Thank you ChecKup. I knew that. Decompress the bay Mister Smock.”
“You got it kid.”
“Good. Now every body into the bay and to the edge and jump. I’ll go last since a Captain must be the last to abandon ship.”
”But that’s only if the ship is sinking sir.”
“I knew that Mister Zulu. “ABANDON SHIP WE ARE SINKING. By order of the Captain.”
There they go. Just look at those idiots. They’re even pointing their toes. How dumb can you get. Ah! There goes the first one burning up in the atmosphere, and another, and that’s it. I knew I would get revenge for that Australian incident. Who just grabbed me from behind?”
“Who is that? Why are you pushing me toward the edge?”
“It’s your favorite and only crewman, Captain.”
“Why are you pushing me out. Knock it off. That’s an order.”
“I forgot to tell you. I’m your Australian crewman.”
“Oh no. Wait, wait, at least tell me your name.”
“Just call me … Captain.”