Having an Episode: Charlie X
"When you first meet Charlie, you'll feel sorry he's an Orphan. Now that's your first mistake. He's gonna put you in your coffin. He's like Ursula the sea hag, but he'll give you no choice. He'll break your Vulcan legs and snatch right out your voice." --Moxie Magnus, Charlie X Rap
Stardate: 1533.6; Dear cosmetology log:
We’ve rendezvoused with the Antares to pick up some 17-year-old kid who is the sole survivor of a ship crash when he was 3. He was on the planet Thasus all that time alone, eating gods know what and going without a hair and skin regimen of any kind. I can't think of anything more barbaric! Why even pig-faced Telerites have skin regimens! Not that it does them any good. Gosh, maybe he’ll have long Fabio castaway hair that he wants formed into some sort of masculine bee hive up-do! Hmmm, I know the chief cosmetological officer on the Antares, Belinda Bustamonte. We were in the same class at Starfleet. She always wore her hair in that unflattering pixie cut that took no finesse at all to cut or style. Of course, she’s older than me and doesn’t have my skills. I bet she already gave him some kind of Vulcan bowl cut or that bald faux-Deltan look she's always trying to push. What a hack! I’d better get salonbay and make sure my sonic scissors are charged, just in case.
Poor Charlie! I was hanging out with Janice down in Rec Room 6 after he came on board and there he was! His hair was so short and, well, dull, that it barely covered that odd shaped head of his. That awful Belinda just butchered his hair! I think she only knows one do--it looked just like hers! I went right up and introduced myself. He's so shy; he could barely look me in the eye. Come to think of it, he didn't have any trouble staring at my breasts. He said his hair fell in long curled ringlets to his waist before Belinda got hold of him. Oh the humanity! How could she? Anyhoo, there’s no use crying over clipped ringlets. Belinda will get hers: Karma don't like bad hair.
Spock and Uhura were down in Rec Room 6, too. Mr. Spock was agonizing over his Vulcan lyre. Sometimes I think he's just analyzing the frequency of the notes. Well, Uhura just broke out in song--again! I'm surprised she doesn't sing "hailing frequencies open" when she's on the bridge. Actually, she used to until the captain ordered her to stop. I never did like space shanties but she loves to belt them at the drop of a hat. Actually, Spock is quite good with improvisation. I’ll never forget that time in space port when he and that Andorian with an accordion started free styling. Now that was Jazz at its finest.
Uhura does look great though. She had an appointment in Spabay yesterday and I straightened and set her hair. I really wish she would go natural, well mostly natural. Dilithium lifted Afros not only keep their shape at warp speeds, they also have a luminous inner glow that captivates in low light.
Charlie seems really taken with Rand. He gave her a bottle of her favorite perfume earlier. Lord knows where he got it! (She likes “Calvin Klein’s Mind Meld Anesthesia” from Delta IV. It’s made from humanely harvested pheromones of the hairless white pygmy ferret chimps that the Deltans evolved from.) He did some neat card tricks for her. In one of them the faces of the cards turned into those glamor shots she had taken at that mall in San Francisco just before we left earth. Thank gods he didn’t get hold of those that she took with her communicator later that night. She had a teensy weensy bit too much out at that single's club around the off-world embassy district. (I got a cute Vulcan to pick her up off the floor and put her in the cab. Vulcans are great to have around if you need something heavy lifted. He kept saying “It’s not logical to drink so much alcohol.” So I said to him “Well tell me Mr. logicy pants, how logical is it to be trolling for earth chicks in a singles bar when your obviously not in heat.” No emotions my patooty. I thought his right eyebrow was going to fall off the back of his head! )
You’ll never guess, dear cosmelog, what happened today. Well, it's Thanksgiving. I’ve never much celebrated it being an orphan and all and having spent my childhood years in slavery on Verex III, but anyhoo… So, chef put replicated meat loaf in the ovens and when he checked it, the pans of meatloaf had magically transformed into live wild turkeys! Yes, unplucked, undressed, wild earth turkeys! Imagine, Poor Chef, peering in the ovens as those majestic birds danced their dance of fiery death! The galley was filled with the swan song of turkey cries as they thrashed around in that hot oven! Now the whole ship smells of burning feathers and death.
Oh, and the Antares is gone, poof, just like that. They contacted Kirk and before they could get a word out, poof, into thin air (bad cliche--but you get what I'm saying. I can't really say they vanished into the thin void of space now can I?) I can’t believe it. I was just saying how Belinda got by more on her charm, which was lacking, than on her skill, which was non-existent; but I never wished her ill. There are, as I've always said, 1000 ways to die in space; poofing out of existence being one of the less agonizing. RIP Belinda Bustamonte. May the great bird of the galaxy fly you away to the afterlife without mussing your hair. And yes, karma is a bitch.
I’ve got a date tonight with Sam. He’s a bit older and kind of burly, not really my type, but he's sweet and jolly. He laughs a lot (mostly at people, not with people!) Sam’s a black belt in Martian Arts and that's kind of a turn-on. He and Captain Kirk have been training together a lot, mostly because the captain is really impressed by Sam’s flying flop-kick and his dive and roll. Kirk has practiced it over and over and over and I think he’s finally got it down. Kirk really excels in the interlaced-finger double-fisted hammer blow. The captain looks so manly in his red, high-wasted gym tights and black workout socks. He really inspires our loyalty by always looking so dashing and professional.
This blog post corresponds with the events of Charlie X, the Star Trek Original Series episode.
Oh dear, I’ve got to run! Janice wants me to do Tina’s hair so that she can throw Tina at Charlie to get him off her back. Imagine that. She’s finally got some young guy falling all over her and she wants to get rid of him. I think I’ll give Tina a modified Judy Jetson—that one never gets old and it’s so easy to manage on your own. And bless Tina's heart; we all know she can't manage much.
Oh my goodness! I was at the gym doing some aerobic tumbling with the girls while Kirk and Sam were showing Charlie some of their moves. Something happened and Sam is gone! I didn't see it myself but Kirk said it was "poof", just like the Antares. Kirk had security up there faster than you can say "a klingon is your grandmother" and I guess they took Charlie away.
Oh dear, It's not that I'm really so upset about Sam, but I guess I’ll have to either stay in tonight or go out with the girls. Oh poo!
All phasers are gone! All the white pieces from the 3-D chess set, the 3-D checker set and the pan dimensional backgammon tower have been twistedly disfigured. Not only are all the phasers missing so are all the phase crimpers, curlers and flat irons! How am I ever going to manage these regulation up-dos? It's kind of strange, kind of wow. And everyone knows that it's caused by--Charlie!
Charlie is on a rampage! Tina is an iguana! Janice has vanished! Pammy Richards was leaving salon bay (with a work of art on her head, a masterpiece rarely seen this deep into space, I might add) and she’s now 102 years old if she’s a day. All that aging even made her hair fall, but I can fix that! I could give her a cucumber facial, but I think she's going to have to see McCoy rather than me. Gretchen Wilcox lost her face! SHE LOST HER FACE! Nurse chapel had to poke holes where her nostrils were just so she could breathe! I told her at least she could rest on the fact that her hair was not mussed by the incident at all. I put some lipstick on her where her lips should be to at least make her feel pretty. Then it hit me that she couldn't see. I put some eyeliner on where her eyes should be. I even tacked on some false eyelashes. She looked ok. I guess without eyes she had to take my word for it. Needless to say she wasn't very happy with her makeover.
Finally some good news. Janice is back. Uhura called me from the bridge and asked me to walk her back to her cabin. She told me everything! Seems that aliens raised Charlie on Thasus after all, just like Spock guessed (and they did not, I might add, raise him right!) They came to pick him up and said that they were really, really sorry and all but that he had never really learned to play well with others. Inter species adoption, as you may well know, can be a tricky thing.
The Thasians did do a great job putting everything back like it was before: Tina’s back, her hair needs to be done again and she still has a bit of a tail but she’s back. Pammy is young again; Gretchen has a face and her hair still looks flawless. I did pretty good with the makeup job 'cause it all seems to be in the right spots. The phasers and phase tools are back—I can crimp again! Even the white pieces of the board games have been twisted back into shape! Only two things are missing: The Antares and Sam. Everything else came back but Sam just got lost in the transfer somehow. Oh well, he wasn't really my type anyway. I’ll just stay in with Janice tonight, and we can basketweave each other's hair and do our nails. She's gonna need a light evening.
Poor Janice, this has all been too much for her. It’s enough to drive a woman to drink! She does look lovely in her pink toga muumuu and bullet bra nightgown (that combo is all the rage in Paris boudoirs this season). She’s got to learn to roll with the punches if she’s going to complete this five-year mission! (and I have told her and told her not to wear red. It does seem to make one a target.)
Oh, well, at least everything is mostly back to normal. I guess I should go encourage Tina to have Dr. McCoy have a look at her tail to see what can be done for it.
Until next time, cosmelog. Moxie Magnus, signing off.