Having an Episode: The Naked Time

Stardate 1704.2; Dear cosmetology log:

That Joe Tormolen! He's just the sweetest thing. He went down to Psi 2000 with Spock to pick up the science party that was there. I insisted he review the training film "Landing Party Safety and You: Keep it Covered, Crewman" (Oddly that brings to mind another training film titled "Alien Sex and Your Health: Keep it Covered, Crewman"). I don't think he heard a word I said! He just brushed it off and gave me a little kiss. He said, "Will you miss me while I'm gone?" He needs so much reassurance. He's always had such a capacity for self-doubt, you know. In fact, that's what I said to Spock just yesterday while we were having lunch together. We were discussing particle physics. The conversation came around to Psi 2000. Spock was telling me about how our orbit may be difficult because of changes in gravity, mass, and magnetic fields that will occur as the planet degrades. I told him my Joey was going to be in the landing party with him, and I said, "Take care of my Joey, Mr. Spock; he's not the brightest phaser in the armory. He's always had such a capacity for self-doubt." That's what I said alright. Hopefully, they'll be back soon and in one piece. Actually, two pieces since there are two of them. We certainly don't need some kind of transporter malfunction.

This just in: SPACE MADNESS! There are rumors flying around the ship that some kind of space madness took over on the surface and that all of those scientists we were going to pick up are dead! I was all ready to meet the hair and makeup needs of those poor ladies and gentlemen who have had to quaff themselves out here at the ass-end of space for so long without the guidance of a trained professional, and now...oh well. Joey dropped by on his way down to lunch. He seemed really agitated. The deaths of the six members of the science party really has him rattled. I guess it doesn't help that I'm always saying that there are a thousand ways to die out here in space. (Which incidentally is the title of another training video "A Thousand Ways to Die in Space: Keep it Covered, Crewman".) He said he'd tell me all the details from the away mission if I'd join him for lunch. Tina was in the dryer, and I told him I'd meet him in the rec room as soon as she was done. He can clear up all these rumors. I hope Sulu and Riley can join us. They make such a cute little couple. The way Sulu looks at Riley is so sweet, and Riley is just like a little puppy dog. He's been running around fetching plants and flowers for Sulu's little botanical garden. It's just too too!

If only I had gotten to the rec room on time, Joe might not have been stabbed with that butter knife! He would be here safe in my arms instead of languishing away in sick bay. How could this happen? I talked to Sulu and Riley about it; they were there. They said they tried to stop him from doing himself in. They tried to take the knife from him, but in the kerfuffle, Joey was stabbed. Sulu and Riley both looked crestfallen. I don't think there was any foul play, but one thing keeps bothering me: Joey suffered a deep wound from that butter knife, but there was not even the smallest rip in his uniform. Isn't that odd. McCoy says he'll be fine and although I trust McCoy implicitly, he is a doctor, not a fortune teller. I've got a bad feeling about this.

By Vulcan's disappearing moon, it's hot in here. I'm feeling a little bit light-headed.

I went to see Joey in sick bay, and Nurse Chapel told me he was dead! DEAD! Zoiks! I can hardly believe it. She said he had just given up the will to live. How can it be? I staggered out of sickbay. I was sweating like a Vulcan in heat, and the whole world was spinning. I went back to my quarters just to take a moment to myself. When I woke up, the ship seemed to be washed in a fresh new hell.

Sulu was running around waving that little pointed thing of his at everyone. It's a wonder he didn't put someones eye out! They've got him down in sickbay now. Riley is singing over the com. Seems like he's locked himself in engineering and declared himself captain. Salon bay is closed, captain's orders, not due to my grief, but anytime we are riding rough in space, Starfleet thinks it best to keep sharp objects away from the heads of the crew. Though my skills are legendary, I tend to agree. If this orbit gets any rougher I'm going to have to see McCoy.

This blog post corresponds with the events of The Naked Time, the Star Trek Original Series episode.

OK. I've had enough. Sure, Riley declaring himself captain is one thing, but announcing that women should wear their hair loosely around their shoulders and not wear much make-up is fanatical fashion fascism! Didn't mankind learn from the Eugenics Wars of the late 1990's that fashion is a flower that must grow free? Did all those fashion operatives have to die in vain? (If you've read my book Supermen and Supermodels: The Secret Eugenics Wars of the 1990's, then you understand the atrocities rained down upon humanity by such luminaries of evil as Khan Noonien Singh, Naomi Campbell, Claudia Schiffer, Cindy Crawford and Kate Moss.) The world almost fell to the fanatical ideology of Super Modelism. Why, fashion editors did not fight and die to wrestle the industry away from those glamazons who held magazine covers captive just to be spat upon by the likes of Riley. I'll make that sinner repent of his crimes if it's the last thing I do!

Oh my, I'm a little worked up. I think I'll stroll around the ship and see if I can calm my nerves

My memory of what happened after my nap is sketchy. I have flashes of Spock in tears and Kirk dragging himself around saying something about "No beach.....to walk...on." Chapel was a little odd too, if I remember correctly. She kept telling me she loved me and that I was her best friend in the whole world (just like she did at last years Kwanza party). I think I may have punched her. The next thing I remember is waking up in sick bay screaming at the top of my lungs. My hair was a mess and when I looked down my hands were red. I had the overwhelming sense that I had killed Lt. Riley! Looking back over my log probably explains why. It turns out that Riley is ok, and the red on my hands was just paint. I have no clue where it came from.

I've got to get down to salon bay. The intoxication we've all experienced has taken a toll on everyone's hair. No one's beauty regime has remained untouched by this calamity and it's going to take a miracle worker like me to set things straight. The weekend seems farther away than usual and this week is going to be longer than most (about three days longer to be exact). Don't forget to adjust your calendars. (Computer, note that I rolled my eyes heavily at this point, please.)