All Hands On Deck(s) - Star Trek: Lower Decks

SaveStarTrekLowerDecks.com

Calling all Lower deckers!  On April 12th Paramount+ announced the upcoming 5th season of Star Trek: Lower Decks will be its last.  The cast, crew and fans have all expressed a strong desire to go beyond this season.

 

As Mike Okuda, a graphic designer best known for his work on Star Trek, posted to social media:

 

One of the ways that the success of a streaming show is measured is by the number of minutes that each episode is streamed.  If a lot of fans replayed each episode a lot, it is conceivable that that could make a blip in the ratings.

 

Our goal is to make that blip!

CHOKING HAZARD - No Small Parts

 Brace yourselves: This is a self-indulgent dumping ground for my latest Star Trek fan art, so either nod & smile until you get to the end, or just click away now and wait until I post something more interesting (athough that could take a while...)

 

 Diving straight in, here is the result from August's 'bonus photo' in my Cloud Mouth post: August's Art Challenge: "Hailing Frequencies Closed" (in honour of the dearly departed Nichelle Nichols at the end of July)

 

 

➣

 

 I had an idea for September's "TOS Anniversary" Art Challenge theme - the Ardanan floating city, Stratos.  That didn't pan out - the sketch on the right is as far as I got - so I ended up submitting a sculpture-type thing of the TOS operations & engineering insignia instead.  I cobbled it together from old, broken & seaworn roof tiles on a wander down to the beach to blow away the frustration that Stratos had built up.

The Year of the Invaded Sideboard

 What a year it's been!

 Animal rescue.

 Poor Tim...

 Floods.

 Poor Ms Nations...

 The return of ABBA.

 Poor ABBA...  

 Someone had a bit of a cough.

 . . .

 . . .

 . . .

 Well?

 Oh, er... Poor BEAST.  

 And aside from everything else, our poor Sideboard took quite a pummelling.  Having seen off an expanse of pink [thank you, Dinah] and a giant old lady [also by Dinah] in previous years, 2021 has seen no less than five invasions!  

 But before we get to those, a quick heads-up about this year's Coven Awards: Unlike previous years, there aren't any awards per se, rather a selection of bits & bobs from your blogs throughout the year that we enjoyed, appreciated, or just remembered to make a note of at the time.

 The remembered bit is key.  Our memory is pretty terrible, so these aren't neccessarily the best bits, just noted or remembered bits.

 Oh, and there's much less self-indulgence from us, too.

 Although there is some, of course:  Star Trek.  Men we like.  Sofas that we think are ghastly (not your new one, Ms Scarlet - we haven't seen it yet...)  It's our blog, after all.

 Quite.  Anyway, let's get on with it before the dratted SubCs realise we've started without them.

 Ooh, yes!  On with the show, and the Sideboard Invasions:

  The first, in January, was by professional sideboard invader, Dinahmow, with an enormous luna astronaut complete with narrowboat (naturally).

 Let's start with a little Music, shall we?  Introduced to us by Jon (of course), this has become one of my most played pieces this year: Let's Danzón - Gustavo Dudamel at the Proms Arturo Márquez Danzón Nº 2 

 

Dance : Jon attempted to prise Colin's Anusol from the grip of-  Oh.  Sorry.  I misheard.  It's Prisencolinensinainciusol as we discovered here: Motivi per essere allegri. 

CCQ: An Enterprising Ending (at last)

 "You silly sods!"  Hound was quite cross.  "Now look what you've done."

 "What happened?  How did we get here?" a bewildered Mago asked.

 "Someone - or possibly sometwo - were thinking of Star Trek when they crashed through my hedge, weren't they?"

 Ms Scarlet guiltily put a hand to her basket-weave bouffant while the grin dissolved from IDV's face.

 "Yes, but really?" The disbelief in Maddie's tone was palpable.

 "Yes, really" said Hound.  "I'm a hedgewitch.  For me the hedge is both the witch's setting and a gateway to other places.  Mitzi's hedge was still charged up from when I transported us to the Cornish coast for the Poldark thing, so blundering through it while thinking of Trek brought us here."

 "My hedge did this?" Mitzi didn't look happy.  "Right.  It's coming down once we get back."

 "Oh, I'm no good with this Star Trek stuff" Dinah cut in.  "Let's just go back through so we can all go home.  I'm tired - I'm several time zones from where I normally am and it's all catching up with me."

 "Several time zones?"  IDV whispered, nudging Ms Scarlet for attention as he gestured at their surroundings.  "And the other 250 years!"

 "Oh, Mr Devine!"

 "Oof!" said Dinah as she found herself face down on the other side of the hedge.  

 "Well, that didn't work."  Mago helped Dinah up after her unsuccessful return trip.

 "All the magic was used up getting you all here" Hound said.  "We're not going anywhere for a while."

 "Will you lot stop trampling my plants!" a loud voice cut through the Blogorati's sniping.  "And get off my lawn!"

 As one, the Blogorati turned towards the source of their berator.  There in the corner, shovelling a big pile of something ghastly-looking, was someone familiar wearing a red miniskirt uniform like Ms Scarlet's.

 "Ms Nations?"

 "Stop your gawping, IDV" she said.  "This tribble shit isn't going to spread itself."

 Oh.  Er, no.  I suppose it won't.  Um.  Actually, our shift's about to start - we'd better go"  IDV shooed the milling Blogorati towards the turbolift.  "C'mon, let's get out of here."

 "Suit yourselves" Ms Nations muttered to their backs as they walked off.  "I'll just get my garden hoes to do it.  Boys!" she yelled.  As the turbolift doors closed on the Blogorati, two muscular non-coms dressed in not very much appeared.  Several pairs of widening eyes were treated not to bulging, hot, sweaty manual labour¹, but to the doors snapping shut. 

oOo

The Year of Ferrero Rochering Dangerously

 Good afternoon, and welcome to the 2020 Coven Awards!  We hope you've all been to the loo and got yourself a drink and some snacks, as this does go on a bit.

 I'll say.  I've worn my fingers down to mere nubbins with all the keyboard clacking I've had to do to prepare all this!

 Oh, stop complaining.  You love it really.

 Well, it does keep me from getting bored, I suppose.

Let's hope the same can be said for the poor Blogorati that have to wade through this

miasma of muddled memories and self indulgent claptrap!

 I say!

 Shall we get on with it before this devolves into unrecoverable unpleasantness, hmm?

 Hmmph! As long as you can keep your SubC under control.

 Fine.  Carry on.

 Right.  Here we go: Well, this hasn't been the best year, has it?  However, we're not going to dwell upon the bad as amongst all the toothache, shingles, and Mondays, there were fuchsias, Freakin' Green Elf Shorts (sort of), and Ferrero Rocher!

 

Despite appearances (you know, if you squint a lot and have had a gin or twelve...)

this is not Ms Scarlet, Intergalactic Global Ambassador for Ferrero Rocher.

This is, in fact, a decoy.  Ms Scarlet is cunningly disguised as the youthful,

rather vertically challenged Ambassador's handmaiden, second from right.

(One of the other two at the back might be Charmaine...)

There's Nothing On But Repeats

 As Ms Scarlet seems to have much success with repeats of old blog posts, I thought I'd give it a go, too.  I had found a couple of rather old, explosive posts, but the return of Beast and Tim brought something else to mind: a trip over the Cusp starring none other than the two Blogorati of yore:

Witches Getting on Beast's Wick

(first seen nearly ten years ago for Beast's birthday)

 It didn't take long for the blood to stop rushing to his brain and the almost overwhelming nausea and vertigo to fade.  As the gold and blue fireworks cleared and his vision returned, he noticed the vast expanse of reeds around him and a distant mansion at the end of a sweeping gravel driveway.

 There were voices, too, in mid-conversation:
 "Of course, I wouldn't know a snowy egret if I were pissing on one. Lunch?"
 "I think it's a little late in the season."
 "For lunch?"
 "No, pissing on birds."
 There was a pause which was when he realised that the two, very familiar, conversationalists were staring at him.  Quickly taking in his surroundings, adding two and two together and resignedly coming up with four, he despaired and his shoulders fell.

  Oh, no, Beast thought to himself.  Oh, please no.   Outwardly, he sighed at the realisation that he'd been dragged over the Cusp again without so much as a by your leave.  It was his bloody day off from Cafe C and here he was, over the bloody Cusp in bloody Eastwick, dressed as bloody Fidel to do the bloody bidding of Tim bloody 'Van Horne' and 'Alexandra' bloody DeVice.  Plus the rest of the bloody Coven, no doubt.  If he'd surmised correctly, they were at the point in the story where Van Horne had invited Alex for lunch - read: banquet - which he, as Fidel, was to prepare.  Bloody.  Hell.
 And to make matters worse, this was yet another non-speaking part.  And on his birthday too!
 By this time, the stares had turned into baleful gimlet glares with no small amount of contempt evident.  Nodding submissively at Tim's unspoken order for an elaborate lunch with which to woo IDV, Beast's shoulders slumped even more as he trudged off towards the mansion kitchens.

The I.T. Wizard of Oz

Continued from... Visiting the Viridian Village

 "Look!" said Maddie as she hovered just below the clouds above the Viridian Village.  "There's the old Scarecrone outside the palace."
 "Where?" Jon burst out of the cloud, wings outstretched as he scoured the ground below.
 "There.  Heading towards the gates with the others."
 "Oh, yes, I see.  Come on" Jon beckoned Maddie and a couple of her nubile, young flying monkey houseboys, "let's go get her!"

~o~

 "I'm not sure how I feel about this?" Mago pondered.
 "About what, Mr Mags?"
 "About stealing IDV's broom for the wizard.  I just don't think it's right."
 "But that was the deal" Ms Scarlet said.  "The broom in exchange for wi-fi & satnav for me, courage for Beast, and the surgery required to get that tin foil hat off your head!  I don't think Mr Devine will give it up voluntarily, so we'll just have to take it."
 "Oh, nein.  It's not the stealing that concerns me.  I mean: I'm worried that that old broom will never get the Wizard all the way to south-east Texas!"

I think we probably should have featured Broom earlier, hmm?

Oh!  We could have used it to fly off on when The Very Mistress first turned up in Loompaland!

Bugger!  A missed opportunity.
Hang on a minute.  The wizard doesn't escape Oz on a broom, he uses a hot air bal-

 "Quiet, you two!"
 "Who are you berating, Very Mistress?  No one said anything?"
 "Oh, just IVD's and the Host's meddlesome, irritating SubConsciousnesses.  I've been able to hear them since their birthday last year.  I don't know how he puts up with them?"
 Thank you!
 "Wha-?  Who said that??"

Oh, shit.

Shhhh!  You're not the narrator.

Well, who is?  The writing's all in white, so it appears to be Witchface,
but it's all over the shop, so who can tell?

Anyway!  Back to the gates...

 In a flurry of feathers fit for the most fabulous of drag queens, Maddie, Jon, and a couple of minor flying monkeys carrying some sort of wooden contraption, swooped down upon the Blogorati.
 "Aaaaaiiieeeee!!!  They're in my hair!  They're in my hair!!" Beast shrieked like a little girl and ran around waving his hands above his head ineffectually.

 "Shut up, Baldilocks" The Very Mistress said scornfully, rolling her eyes "they're not here for you."  The flying monkeys set down and beckoned her to the sedan chair.
 "Ms Mistress!" Ms Scarlet piped up.  "Where are you going?"
 "The same place as you - to IVD's castle."
 "But...?" Ms Scarlet waved her arm towards the sedan chair and the waiting monkeys.
 "The thought of being stuck in a car for another journey with Beast and his flatulent arse was too much, so while you were seeing the wizard, I called for a lift" The Very Mistress explained as she got in the chair and the flying monkeys prepared for take off.  "Fortunately, there's only enough room for one.  Byeeeee!"

~o~

The Emerald Elf Shorts

Continued from It's just a jump to the left...

* C L U M P *

 "Oof!"  I said.  Which was qute restrained really considering that a sizeable house had landed on me.
 After some wriggling and a lot of splinters, I managed to free my right arm from broken joists, floorboards and the like, and reach up under Hat's brim and into its hammerspace.  On only the seventeenth attempt, I felt the sturdy handle of a drill in my grip and - wasting no time - switched it on while driving it upwards.

 After what felt like hours - but was probably only six years - hot, sticky, covered in sawdust and grit, I burst through the bottom of a bathtub.
 Reality dawned...
 "Oh, no" I said to no one in particular as I clocked what I was wearing and realised what what was transpiring.  "No.  I'm sorry.  No.  This cannot happen.  I don't want this."
STAND BY FOR INSERTION INTO STORYLINE the disembodied voice of the enchanted mirror intoned.

What?  What mirror?

 "What?"

What mirror?  Where did it come from?

 "I don't kn-"
STAND BY...
 "What?  No.  I'm sorry, no.  I'm not having it.  We can do better than this."  
STAND BY...
 I couldn't believe the bloody mirror, or whatever it was, wasn't listening to me.  Me!  A witch!  There was only one thing for it.  I had to bamboozle it.  A spell came to mind, so I vomited it out of my mouth before it bamboozled me, too.
 "The fact is" I said, quoting Nana Rampton's Discombobulator "this is about identifying what we do most of best, and finding fewer ways of doing more of it less."
...?  The mirror managed to convey an uncomfortable silence before clicking and whirring rather disconcertingly.  REINITIALISING it finally declared.
 "At last" I muttered.
 "G'day, DeVice!  We're good to go" the mirror said in a non-bogan Aussie accent.
 "What?"
 "Don't say what, say pardon" the mirror said, this time attempting a middle class English accent that would take offence at being told one's gravy needed sieving, but failing to completely mask the Aussieness.  I narrowed my eyes as comprehension dawned.
 "T-Bird?  Is that you?"
 "None other" the one-time teeterer atop the Hag Pillar confirmed amidst more whirring, clicking background noise.  She'd dropped the posh Home Counties accent, thankfully.  "OK, mate.  We're pretty much good to go.  Again."

What?!  We're accepting cameos from the Days of Coven Past now?

Just go with it, or this will take even longer.  The end is already beyond our second and third sight, and the crystal ball's given up trying to extrapolate where and when this "adventure" will end up.

Yes, but, Miss Smuggersham?  T-Bird?!  We haven't seen her in years!

I don't see why not?  She was a major player back in the day.  Besides, Beast turns up here later.

WHAT?!?

REINITIALISATION COMPLETE.  STORY CHANGE IN THREE...

 "Right" said T-Bird, leaving the mirror to get on with the technical stuff.  "Now to see how Tim's getting on in those Big Bang Pants!"
TWO...
 "Sexily, I'll bet!" I said not even bothering to hide the lasciviousness.
ONE...
 "Rawr!"

Hang on.  This isn't going to involve more time travel is it?  You know I'm not thrilled abou-

* C L U M P *

"Ow!"

And so it begins

Again...

Not #adecadeago

 In a rare moment of desperately attempting to appear "on trend", I thought I'd have a go at Ms Scarlet and Jon's #adecadeago meme.  You know, the one in which ancient bloggers who haven't moved on to new forms of social media (or have, but gave up because it was all so petty and overwhelming) look back at their dusty old archives, and dredge up whatever it is they were blogging about a decade - 10 years! - ago.
 Well, after the successes of the aforementioned Ms Scarlet (AKA The Duchess of Devonshire) and Jon (the Official Plant Spotter of Castle Device and its extensive Witchdom), as well as LẌ and Mitzi, my foray ten years into the past was a disappointment to say the least: an excuse for not blogging, rudely interrupted by that interfering old baggage, Audrey (who has since been expunged from my consciousnesses - sub, or otherwise).  I think Tim said it best when he proclaimed me a "slacker".

Although, he's a fine one to talk.
Quite.

 Anyway, not wanting to let the side down, I came up with a new way to play: travelling back in time by two years to 2017, and then eight years to 2011, which brings us to a grand total of ten years.  Clever, eh?  And, between them, both cover the (not really a) requirement for an old meme and some art work.

 So, two years ago, on the 1st February 2017, we arrive at another meme started by Ms Scarlet: the "Book on a Chair" meme, or #bookonachair as it would be known in today's modern hashtag parlance.

By this point in the proceedings, we were really reaching...

 And eight years ago, on the 1st February 2011, we land slap-bang in Star Trek territory, on the second stop of a voyage that never was, replete with sketches of starships.

oOo

 Because I don't think any of the images from my two #adecadeago posts linked to up there are particularly worthy of reposting here, I thought I'd share a couple of photos I took from Count Podgekinson's bedroom window on the morning of the last day in January:

Look! You can see the birds roosting in this close-up - wood pigeons, I think?

The 2015 Coven Awards - A Year In Review

 Welcome to the 2015 Coven Awards, and thank you for enduring yet another year at Castlette DeVice.
 Yes, although we've celebrated ten years of this blogging lark, this is only the seventh Coven Awards ceremony due to three rather slack years.

 Yeah! We're looking at you 2011, 2012, and 2013. 

 You may be pleased to know that this year's awards show will not be as drawn out as last year's tedious affair.

 That's what you think!

 Yeah! We got our second wind when creating the award headers and now there are loads of them!

 Oh, dear gods... We'd better get on with it then, I suppose. As usual, I'll recap our blogging efforts through the year.
 And I'll present the various awards.
 Right. Take a deep breath and don't look down as away we go: 

A bit of Sparky Malarkey

 I don't normally do this kind of thing for bloggers who have given up the ghost, but I'm going to make an exception in this case, as it's the birthday of original Coven member and my one-time stalkee: Timothy "Elizabeth" Leng, aka Sparky Malarkey!
 Plus, it took me ages to make this card, so I want to show it off (although the photos are really very poor - Phone must have been having a bad day).

"From starry treks through Facebook, to the stables of blogs past"
Teedjé (because his initials are T J) Leng came about after a Facebook comment conversation in which I suggested Tim could be a joined Trill (Leng being the symbiont). The cosplaying bit may become clear when you see the final photo.

Glitter is Forever

Continued from On The Mistress's Secret Service

The Gincuzzi (slice of lime not pictured)

  "Sigh... Can I not have a moments peace?"
From the Gincuzzi in his mountain-top lair, Goldfing-longerer used his gold fing-longer to mute the sound from the episode of Ugly Betty that was playing on the crystal ball that was hovering over the gently bubbling gin & tonic he was reclined in. The Increasingly Displeased Villain scowled as one of his Plastic "no-tackle" Tim lackeys informed him that one of the neighbouring villains was at the front door.

A Plastic "no-tackle" Tim minion

 Shifting position to more easily extricate himself from the Gincuzzi, he suddenly started. "Oooh!" and fished around beneath the foaming surface with a look of surprised concentration on his face. "Ah, ha!" He pulled out a slice of lime, and held it aloft triumphantly. "Well, that certainly has rather put an end to my relaxation. I suppose I'd better do something about this visitor. Help me out, then!" Two more gold-panted Plastic Tims eased Goldfing-longerer from the tub while simultaneously wrapping him up in a bath robe and trying not to see everything.

~ ~ ~

Barbara Cartland's Gold Orbit hat

  A few minutes later, and fully dressed, Goldfing-longerer met his guest in the foyer with an air-kiss.
 "Ah, Gay Day" he said to the statuesque visitor, "do come in."
 "Thank you, GFL. Have you got somewhere to put my hat?" With a dismissive wave, Gay Day indicated the general vicinity of the front door where a towering gold chapeau leaned precariously outside.
 "Uh... I'll have one of the Tims take care of it. Wherever did you get it from?"
 "Oh, it was one of Barbara Cartland's. I got it from that garage sale she held when her book sales nose-dived." And with that, Gay Day swept into the foyer and headed towards the veranda leaving a trail of glitter and sequins in her wake.

~ ~ ~

Disco tea (via Aych)

 A little while later, having been set up with a Disco Tea on the veranda that overlooked the exquisite gardens, Goldfing-longerer and Gay Day were gossiping plotting world domination when they were interrupted by a flying saucer landing on the lawn in a space between a couple of Airstream trailers.
 "Ah. The Crimson Pussy's finally back" Gay Day noted as the final character of their triumverate sashayed down the ramp of the 'saucer discarding her faux-fur hooded parka on the way.
 "I see you managed to drag yourself away from that Tarot, Pussy."
 "And hello to you, too, GFL" Pussy replied. "Gay Day."
 "Pussy" Gay Day sneered.
 The Crimson Pussy poured herself a cup of glitter, but didn't sit down.
 "I've come to warn you that Bond and her cronies are on their way here" she said.
 "What?!"
 "Well, what did you expect? That MJ6'd just ignore a load of gold corpses?"
 "Yes? Well, they were accidents, after all."
 "Ha!" Gay Day nearly choked on a glitterball.

Too embarassed to show his face after
being discovered at one of Gay Day's
glitter parties (via)

 "You can laugh" Pussy said. "They also found that poor Houseboy of yours who you tried to drown in your glitter pool."
 "Ah..."
 "Where are they now?" Goldfing-longerer asked.
 The Crimson Pussy looked at her watch, her glossy, scarlet lips moving slightly as she did some calculations in her head. "Probably at your front door, by now."
 "Bugger."


To be continued in... Goldfing-longerer
 

The Pudding Debacle*

I know, it's not Hallowe'en yet, but I've been reading through some old Coven blog posts and stumbled across this horror from 'Petra:

Cooking for dummies - The 12 step programme

The Elephant Man in chocolate pudding form?

V for Vienetta Vendetta!

It's almost enough to put one off chocolate for life (and the afterlife).

Here's what some of us thought at the time:

Come back this time next week for another 'Petra-fying adventure 

(or possibly a little earlier as it's nearly 10pm now...)

* Post title from here.

 

Top 10 Searches, or: Battle of the Bulges!

In response to MJ's Top 10 Searches post, here are the top 10 not-quite-as-depraved search keywords of all time (in reverse order) that led people (and I use the term in the loosest possible term) to Inexplicable DeVice (the blog, not myselves):

10. Manticore

 Manticore infested biscuit tins must be more common than I thought?

"Ooh, I could murder a custard cream!"

9. Olympic bulges
 This must have something to do with Dinah or that chapeau de tin-foil created by Eros.


 









8. Connor Trinneer bulge
 This could be from any of a number of Trinneer-based posts - more down below (fnar fnar)!

"Bah! No one can see
my abs in this top."

7. Chris Pine naked
 See the number one visited post at Inexplicable DeVice in the section below

"Are you stalking me again, IDV?"

6. Ryan Kwanten bulge
 See the number one visited post at Inexplicable DeVice in the section below

5. Alien Queen
They must have been after MJ...

"Hisssssssssssss!"

4. Chris Pine bulge
 See the number one visited post at Inexplicable DeVice in the section below

3. Bulges
 See the number one visited post at Inexplicable DeVice in the section below

2. Jared Padalecki bulge
 See the number one visited po-  Good gods, I'm sick of writing that bloody sentence!

1. Connor Trinneer
 And here he is in all his buff and bulging glory!

"Mmmm... I'm so buff!"

"Wow! You *are* buff!"

"Sigh... And pretty, too."

Gah! I've read and typed the word 'bulge' so many times now that it has lost all meaning and looks ridiculous!

~ ~ ~

And now for the Top 3 visited posts of all time here at Inexplicable DeVice...

3. An unexpected 'guest'
 I have absolutely no idea why this post should have garnered 2,248 visits?

Just smile and look
elegant, Margo.
This nastiness will
soon be over with.

2. 2008 in review
 Well, Connor-in-his-underwear is bound to be a draw! 4,595 people can't be wrong.

"Shit! Here comes IDV again. Better hide."

1. 2009: A review
 So, here it is: The source of the 15,763 'bulge' searches. Take a bow Chris Pine, Ryan Kwanten and Jared Padalecki!

Oh, and Tim, of course!


P.S. I would have posted this on the same day that MJ did hers, but we lost the interwebs here at Castlette DeVice.

Cusp Trek VI: The Underused Crew

USS Cafe C 
Dorset Sector

 Beast sat up in his chair as a flunkie brought him his tea and placed it on the little table before him. It had been a long afternoon cataloguing gaseous chick pea curry-related anomalies and he was more than ready for something to eat. 
 Just as he was about to shove a forkful of sausage and beans into his mouth, a rattling sound distracted him. The rattle was coming from in front of him. He looked at his plate of greasy food and was alarmed to see it slowly shaking its way across the glass-topped table.
 "What the...?" he uttered, now feeling the entire decking shaking.
 "Oh, cripes!" Lieutenant Scarlet gasped behind him.
 Turning to the communications station, Beast asked her: "What?"

BANG!

 "Something exploded, Captain, and we're about to be hit by the shockwave. Hold on! Oh, and stop waving your little sausage at me!"
 Stunned at Lieutenant Scarlet's outburst, Beast looked down at his zipped-up fly then looked blank for a moment before noticing that he was still holding his fork up complete with a small sausage speared on its tines. "Oh. Yes. Sorry" he mumbled before turning to his helmsman and ordering him to turn the ship into the wave.
 After an awful lot of shaking, crewmen careering haphazardly across the bridge and someone turning the lights off and on again several times to make it even more dramatic, the starship settled once more.
 "Where did that come from?" Beast asked, incredulous.
 "The shockwave originated from the vicinity of the Infomaniac Oubliette, Captain."
 "The Oubliette? That's the DragKlingon's key innuendo producing facility. Confirm."
 "I can confirm the location of the Oubliette, but not its existance" Lieutenant Scarlet answered. "Do we report this, sir?"
 "Are you kidding?"

USS Enterprise-A 
Denmark Sector

 "Well?" CyberPetra demanded from the captain's chair.
 "Cor, let me get out of the lift first, Chekov" I said, somewhat exasperated, before barging past Cardboard Cut-out Spock and stomping down the steps from the turbolift and into the command well. "I can't find him."
 "You obviously didn't look hard enough, then."

Plastic "no tackle" Tim
(& cronies)

Feeling a
little flat?

 "I'm a doctor, not a private investigator!" I snapped back. "I did find these, though" and from my back pockets produced an OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT 'N KEEP ACTIONLESS FIGURE and a Plastic "no tackle" Tim. "The real Tim's not on the ship, I know that much. He's probably doing his stupid yoga somewhere hot and humid."
 "Girls, girls" Roses teased from her post at the corrallerallerer station.
 'Petra and I narrowed our eyes at her but she didn't take any notice. Rather, she just lit up a cigarette and put her feet up on her console while Princess attempted to stifle a snigger from her seat at the helm.
 "I don't know why you're laughing, Lieutenant Valeris" 'Petra said turning back to face the front. "You've got to pilot us out of spacedock."
 "Preferably in one piece" I added.
 Princess scowled and started the engines. "Clearing all moorings" she announced then almost stalled. The entire bridge crew stopped what they were doing and stared at her as she fumbled with the controls, trying not to let the engines cut-out. "Stop it!" she shrieked. "You know what'll happen if you all look at me-"

The real Kim Cattrall?

 Suddenly she was silent. Instead of a living, breathing, screaming Vulcan Australian steering the ship, a mannequin looking not unlike Kim Cattrall's whory old dummy*, sat motionless at her console.
 "Everyone stop looking" 'Petra sighed. Reluctantly, we averted our gaze and after a few moments, Princess returned to her normal state.
 "Look" she said, turning to face me, "when I signed on for another Cusp Trek adventure, I didn't think I'd inherit my character's original actress's previous role's curse."
 "Neither did I" I admitted. "Although, we are over the Cusp so what else did you expect?" Princess just huffed and crossed her arms. "Oh, remember you're supposed to be piloting us out of spacedock..."
 Instantly, Princess turned back to her console and flailed at the controls, turning the Enterprise just in time to narrowly miss hitting the edge of the retracted spacedoors.
 "Strewth! That was close" she admitted. Everyone else just breathed a collective sigh of relief and unclenched their arses.
 Roses was the first person to speak. "Right" she said, her crash-anxiety almost gone. "We'd better get a move on if we're going to be on time for this dinner with the DragKlingons."
 "I want everyone on their best behaviour" Commander 'Petra ordered. "You know how touchy they are about the destruction of their Oubliette."
 "Oh, yes. Perhaps some Romulan Ale will make the evening go more smoothly?" Princess suggested.
 "Are you quite mad?!" 'Petra asked, aghast. "I'm not drinking blue Kool-Aid! We'll have champagne, and that's that."

A little while later, after we'd rendezvoused with the DragKlingon vessel, Infomaniac One, and invited its crew aboard, we were all sitting around the dining table getting hideously drunk.

Yum! Plastic baby sperm whale...

 "An' tha's how yo' tell a Terrelian fro' a Tarellian" Cookie slurred with a filthy grin on his face.
 "Buuuuh-Urrrrp!" exclaimed Ms. Nations and took another gulp of champagne.
 "Ah wouldn' mind if it wa' one o' those four-armed Terellians" said Eros salaciously.
 "Buurrrrrrrr- *hic* -urrrp!" agreed Ms. Nations.
 LX tried to fork a hardboiled Klingon egg on his dinner plate but, rather vexingly, it kept leaping in and out of focus.
 "General Chang" Roses began with only a slight slur, "tha's 'n impressive crest."
 Touching her hand (the one that wasn't clutching a bottle of Jameson's) to her gnarled and wrinkled forehead, MJ attempted a smile but failed and grimaced instead. "An' that's an equally 'pressive 'do" she said, the enormous crest knocking pictures off the walls as she turned her head to face Roses. "I'll 'ave to gerra picshur for the Hair Hall of Fame before we go."
 Suddenly, LX stood up and grabbed the edge of the table to stop himself swaying too much.
 "I offer some toast" he said raising his glass and sloshing Champagne all over the place. "The underused crew... The fu..." And with that, he very slowly fell over head first into a bowl of half-eaten plastic sperm whales (see the last paragraph of the Romulan Ale article as linked to above).
 "Shit" MJ sighed. "Gorkon never could hold his drink. C'mon you guys. Azetbur, Kerla, we're off."
 "Well, this was fun" I said.
 "Mm" 'Petra agreed taking another sip of Champagne. "We must do it again some time."

 In the transporter room, Princess looked up as the doors whooshed open and rolled her eyes at the carnage before her.
 "Good grief!" she exclaimed as MJ and Cookie staggered in supporting a comatose-looking LX. Ms. Nations crawled after them closely followed by Eros and myself, with Roses and 'Petra bringing up the rear.
 "Stand aside, lassie" Eros said to Princess, trying to shoo her away from the transporter controls as he used them to pull himself to his feet.

Princess gets wrapped up in her work

 "No way, Captain Scott! You're so drunk you'll beam them into the centre of a planet. I'll do it." And she scooped up her sewing from the console and handed it to MJ. "Here are your new costumes." MJ looked at them in horror. "I had to make them out of old curtains as you wouldn't stump up for new fabric."
 Before MJ could complain, Princess mashed the transporter keyboard with her palm, beaming the DragKlingons over to Infomaniac One. 
 "Drat! I forgot to get the recipe for those new poutine torpedoes from Brigadier Kerla" I grumbled. "Beam me over, would you?"
 With an enormous sigh, Princess obliged and I found myself materialising on board the DragKlingon's starship. 

IKS Infomaniac One
Canada sector

 The first thing I heard was someone throwing their guts up. The next was "look out!". I stepped back just in time to avoid being sprayed by purple puke.

LX/Gorkon after one too many Romulan Ales

 Across the room, LX lay on a table, wiped out after projectile vomiting.
 "Did... Did I win yet?" he whispered before passing out.
 Suddenly the ship lurched and the stars outside the portholes stretched out. We'd gone to warp. And probably with some pissed DragKlingon at the helm.
 "Look, can you stop this thing so the Enterprise can pick me up?" I asked MJ.
 "I doubt it" she replied. "Azetbur has locked herself in on the bridge and you know what she's like when she's had a few."
 I had to agree. "Well, just drop me off when you pass the next planet, then."

USS Enterprise-A
In orbit of "Rear Port"
(a DragKlingon penile colonoscopy haemorrhoid in Canada Sector)

 "I've picked up his lifesigns, Commander" Roses announced to 'Petra.
 "On screen."
 The image on the viewscreen changed from that of stars to one of two figures kneeling in snow near a camp fire. Each one appeared to be holding a doll or effigy and were articulating them around in an approximation of life-like movement.
 "Zoom in" 'Petra ordered, curious as to what he was seeing. "What are they saying? Isn't there any sound?" he whined.
 "Nah. I think the external microphone's broken" Roses replied as she re-focused the sensors. The viewscreen suddenly filled with the two figures, one of whom was IDV. "Well, there's Doctor McCoy."
 "Yes, but who's the girl?" 'Petra asked. "And are they..." he squinted at the screen. "Are they holding mini-Tims?"
 "Good grief, they are! McCoy's got an OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT 'N KEEP ACTIONLESS FIGURE and the girl has a plastic 'No-Tackle' Tim doll. They're playing with them."
 "Wait" Princess said. "I believe I can make out what they're saying."
 "How? Can you lip read?"
 "No. But due to my inanimate mannequin-half, I can understand what the inanimate mini-Tims are saying to each other."

On the frozen arsteroid below...     

 "I can't believe I kissed you" an awed OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT 'N KEEP ACTIONLESS FIGURE said.
 "Must have been your lifelong ambition" the sexily arrogant plastic 'No-Tackle' Tim doll replied.
 The two effigies stared longingly into each other's eyes as the tingle of the transporter beam washed over them and their flesh-and-blood manipulators.

In the transporter room aboard the Enterprise...

  "That was quite a sordid little fantasy you two were re-enacting down there" 'Petra said with a hint of jealousy.
 "Hmmmph" I muttered.
 "So" he said turning to my companion, "who are you supposed to be?"
 "I'm Tara."
 "I'm sorry, what did you say your name is?"
 "Umm... Martia?"
 "That's better. Much more becoming this farcical scenario we find ourselves in, don't you think? Why, it even uses the same letters as 'I'm Tara'!"
 "I suppose" Tara pondered. "Hey, am I still married to David Bowie?"
 "I don't know?" 'Petra answered, then turned to the rest of us. "Someone google that" he ordered.
 "Christ!" Princess whispered to me. "This 'captaining' has gone to his head. Who does she think she is?"
 "Why do you think he only had cameos in all the previous instalments?" I whispered back.
 "So, what happens now?"
 "I don't know. This has all turned into a bit of a shambles. The storyline's unravelling faster than a magic carpet snagged on a Scots pine!"
 "Actually, now that you mention it, I was going to ask why I had to make those curtain-uniforms for MJ."
 "Well, she's playing General Chang who was originally portrayed by Christopher Plummer, who, as I'm sure you know, played Captain Georg von Trapp in The Sound of Music. So, that was going to lead on to-  Shit!" I suddenly blurted out.
 "What?" Princess asked.

SURPRISE!

 "We haven't done MJ's 'reveal'!"
 "Oh. But everyone knows she's really an Alien Queen by now."
 "Do they?!" I almost screeched.
 "Of course" Princess soothed. "Even if they'd forgotten (because it's been nearly three years since the last Cusp Trek), the fact that her massive crest kept knocking pictures off the wall in the dining room whenever she moved her head was a big giveaway. That and all the drool..."
 "You're sure? I don't want to have to go back and fit in more explanation and such-like."
 "Positive. Besides, no one except Tim really reads this guff, and he's not even here!"
 "Fine" I snapped. "Let's just get this over with.  Roll credits!"   
 

Starring (in order of appearance):

Sulu - Beast

Janice Rand - Miss Scarlet
Chekov - 'Petra

'Bones' McCoy - IDV

Spock - a Cardboard Cut-out
Kirk - OFFICIAL SPARKY TIM CUT OUT N KEEP ACTION FIGURE & Plastic "no tackle" Tim

Uhura - Roses 

Valeris - Princess
Kerla - Cookie

Azetbur - First Nations

Scotty/Trip - Eros

Gorkon - LX

And special guest star:

Chang/Hideous Alien Queen - MJ

* Tim, rather rudely, proclaimed that Kim Cattrall was a "whory old dummy" here.