Having an Episode: The Man Trap
Something salty is happening on M-113. Can Moxie get to the bottom of this?
The Enterprise is orbiting planet M113. My goodness, is it boring! The dig records from the Craters-- they're the archeologists who have been working on the surface--say nothing about ancient hair technologies, and for all we know, the extinct inhabitants were as bald as a waxed Deltan. (If you don't know what a Deltan is, let me tell you they are as bald as they are dripping with pheromones--and believe you me, sugar, when you're coiffure is a big null, you need excessive money or pheromones to catch some attention, and since we don't use money in the 23rd century...but I digress). Ho-hum.
Salonbay has been as dead as the ancient civilization on the planet below (though certainly not as dusty--we've cleaned repeatedly for lack of clients). The only person who's been in today was Dr. McCoy. He's such a darling and he always smells like peppermint. Nancy Crater on the surface below is an old flame! I just love these final frontier romances, of course, she's married now. Anyhoo, He just wanted a trim, but I convinced him to darken those grey hairs. He was so resistant; I said "Dammit, McCoy, your a doctor, not a cosmetologist. I know what's best for your hair." And I pursed my lips and stamped my size 12 go-go boot (They aren't exactly regulation, but they're close enough so nobody says anything). He thought that was real funny and asked if I minded if he used it.
I tried to convince Kirk that I needed to be included in the landing party, but he gave me the brush-off. Women like Nancy need to be pampered--their hair and makeup needs are as urgent as medical and supplies. When will Starfleet learn? Jim seemed to think the place for the chief cosmetological officer was on board, and I suppose he's right. There could be any number of hair-related emergencies while he's away. The weave replicator is on the blink, so I might as well stick around and have Scotty take a look at it.
Now Darnell is in the landing party, and before he beamed down to the surface he asked me to marry him! We've only been dating for a month, and he up and pops the question. He's always been a little impulsive. I told him I'd give him my answer when he gets back tonight. How can I resist those big brown cow eyes of his? I was chatting with Green about him, and all he could say is that he thinks I deserve better than that. Darnell is a bit of a playboy. Who doesn't know about his Wrigley's pleasure planet exploits or his Orion green girl conquests, but that's all behind him now. Why, the captain himself said he thinks I've had a pacifying effect on Darnell, and he's been nothing but a gentleman to me. Anyway, while I was talking to Green, he kept shifting from one foot to the other and fidgeting with his hands and looking down at his feet. Then he up and confesses his love for me! He just blurted it out and gave me the sweetest peck on the cheek and ran off to join the landing party. Green said he's been holding himself back all this time and that I can't possibly marry Darnell. What's a girl to do?
OMG! Darnell is dead. Nancy Crater said she saw him grazing on some local flora--just popped it in his mouth! I blame Starfleet training! I mean, is it too much to ask to reinforce rules like: "Alien Shit Can Kill You." (When I was in school that was one of the big workplace safety posters--why don't you see those anymore?) The number in that sign on the wall in rec room 3 hasn't risen above 4 since I've been here! ("It's been X days since our last safety-related death!"). Of course Darnell's phaser didn't work on the brightest settings if you know what I mean. (If you don't, I mean he was dumb.) Oh well, what can one do? In Space, there are a thousand ways to die before noon. Green said he wants to talk to me as soon as he gets back from the surface. He's such a sweet boy. I just love his curly hair and his baby blue eyes! Well, I guess I am free now after all. sigh
I ran into Green in the corridor outside of Spabay. He said he really needed a salt glow, and he wanted to know where Petunia, the chief spa officer was. He seemed really off--kinda shifty, well, more shifty than usual--actually, a different kind of shifty all together. He's usually "Aw, shucks, ma'am" shifty, and just now, he was more "There's nothing to see here. Move along." shifty. I told him to come by later and I'd give him some highlights and we could talk--maybe even grab a bottle of replicated wine and take it back to my quarters; after all, I am grieving.
You know, Janice has been spending an awful lot of time with Sulu lately. I wonder if she knows. She's kind of clueless with the boys if you know what I mean. I'm always trying to get her to try a new hairstyle (although my basket-weave hair weaving is truly unmatched in all quadrants). I don't know why she insists on that conservative look of hers; the Easter basket bob bump went out with the 22nd century!
This must be some kind of record! Green has been found dead on the planet's surface. From the description, it sounds like some kind of attack with Chinese medicinal fire cups! I've checked all records of planet M-113, and I can't find any reference to land squid like those on Naboo--they leave red sucker marks like those found on green's body. We're all locked down in quarters. Seems the shifty Green I saw earlier isn't Green at all. Some shape-shifting alien assassin has infiltrated our ranks! (Hmmm. The squid hypothesis is looking more and more reasonable.) What if I had let him, um it, kiss me? or worse? A girl really has to be careful out here in space. Those thousand ways to die in space that I mentioned earlier blossom into a million in the afternoon! I don't even want to think about how many early evening holds!
Stardate 1513. 15
They caught it. They killed it. It was trying to desalinate Captain Kirk, dressed up as the Doctor's own Nancy Crater (to clarify that sentence: the creature had taken Nancy Crater's form. Our daring Captain was not dressed in what passed as fashion for that ill-fated archaeologist). Our ship's crew is just so efficient! I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd say they could wrap any perilous situation up in about an hour (with commercials to boot)! The clean-up crew took the body down to biology. I'll run have a little looky-loo later. Turns out it wasn't a squid--and yes, it has hair! Mr. Spock, I'm sure, will supervise the dissection. I've heard rumors that it was the last of a dying race of salt sucking creatures, which is sad, but extinction is the price you pay for ruining Mz. Moxie's evening plans (and robbing me, not once, but twice, of marital bliss)! Oh, I'd better take some hair samples. Maybe, if I replicate the hair, I can make some new hair pieces for Nurse Chapel. After all, what else do I have to do tonight, other than mourn, of course!