SCENE I: INT. The female ratings’ showers of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. Two women are gasping ecstatically as they soap each other.
VOICE-OVER: CAPTAIN JAMES T. JERK (for it is he)
Sex – the final frontier. These are the voyages of the soft pornstarship Enterprise. Its six-month mission: to speak out lewd words; crude generalisations; to bodily go where no DV-cam has gone before!
(Grams: Funky wah-wah guitar intro.)
SCENE II. INT: The ENTERPRISE bridge. YEOMAN RANDY, who appears to have forgotten her underwear, is pointing a camcorder at CAPTAIN JERK, while a clearly-aroused MR SCOCK focuses his attention on a What-The-Butler-Saw viewer. LIEUTENANT EBONY is at the communications console, with a strange silvery object in the usual orifice. ENSIGN JAKOV is having a fiddle at the controls, while LIEUTENANT SMELU is grinning like a wanking Jap, because that’s what he is. Outside, scantily-clad female sailors are doing unmentionable things in the rigging.
Pornstardate 2007, Tuesday. The uh, Enterprise is on deployment, patrolling the borders uh, of the erogenous zone. The crew are uh, looking forward to a spot of well-earned R&R uh, involving a lot of FFM, maybe a little uh, CFNM and uh, possibly a spot of simulated S&M.
(SFX. Doors open with a sigh of pleasure. DR. ‘MOANS’ MUCKY steps out of the pornolift.)
JERK
Moans uh, what brings you to the bridge? No uh, action in dickbay?
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
MUCKY
It’s all this skirtin’ aroun’ th’ erogenous zone, Jim. Ah doan’ lahk it. Who knows what those dirty Iraqulan women are up to out there, hidden from saht under a veil of darkness? It keeps me awake at nights jes’ thinkin’ about it.
JERK
I know how you feel, Moans - and uh, a lot of the crew feel the same uh, way. It uh, seems there’s a whole lot of feeling going on uh, aboard the Enterprise!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
Something’s wrong - I just can’t quite put my finger on it.
SMELU
Ooh, I can help you with that, Captain!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
JERK
Thank you, Mr Smelu, but I uh, don’t think that will be necessary. Get a uh, grip on yourself.
SMELU
I already have!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
JERK
I uh, need to take this in hand. I’ll uh, be in my uh, quarters with Yeoman Randy.
(He gets up and leaves. SFX: Doors sigh.)
SCOCK
I have been reviewing the security footage of the female crewmembers’ quarters, Doctor. I find it quite fascinating.
MUCKY
Why, you green-blooded…
(SFX: Blue alert.)
JAKOV
Unidentified wessel approaching, Mr Scock!
SCOCK
Raise trousers, Mr Jakov. Lt. Ebony, open hailing frequencies.
JAKOV
Trousers raised, serr!
EBONY
No response, Mr Scock. I don’t usually have that trouble.
(SFX: doors sigh. JERK stumbles onto the bridge, quickly tucking his shirt into his trousers, which appear to be on back to front.)
SCOCK
Status report, Mr Smelu?
SMELU
It appears to be a Federation shuttlecraft, Mr Scock. It’s not responding to Lt. Ebony at all. This could be my lucky day!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
EBONY
Incoming emission, Captain!
JERK
Uh, on screen.
JAKOV
But ve are just getting to the best bit, serr!
JERK
Contain yourself, Mr Jakov.
JAKOV
(disappointed)
Too late, serr.
EBONY
Sir, it’s Admiral Obama. He wants to come aboard.
JERK
Don’t we all?
(To screen)
Cancel blue alert. Uh, Admiral - this is an uh, unexpected uh, pleasure.
OBAMA
Sorry, Jim, but Seafleet Command has had reports of unusual activity in this sector and I’m here to make a snap inspection of the Enterprise. I trust there’ll be no hard feelings.
JAKOV
(under his breath)
Not any more!
JERK
Mr Scock - Dr Mucky - meet me in the Transporner Room in five minutes. Uh, full dress uniforms for the Admiral.
SCENE III: INT. TRANSPORNER ROOM. LT CMDR HOTT is at the console, looking rather flushed.
(SFX: Doors sigh. Enter JERK and MR SCOCK in formal uniform.)
JERK
I hope you’ve got uh, a steady hand today, Hottie. We don’t want any uh, little accidents.
HOTTIE
Och, a’ haed a wee one earlier, Cap’n. A’ve jis’ done wipin’ the console doon. Where’s Dr Mucky?
(SFX: Doors sigh. Enter DR MUCKY, dressed as a Japanese schoolgirl.)
MUCKY
Oh. You meant those dress uniforms.
HOTTIE
The Admiral willnae want tae be kep' waitin', Cap’n.
JERK
Too late, Moans. Hottie, uh - enerjizz!
(SFX: cheesy 70s Hammond organ music. VFX: ADMIRAL OBAMA materialises.)
JERK
Welcome aboard, sir.
OBAMA
No need for the formalities, Jim. This must be Mr Scock - but who’s this pretty little thing?
JERK
Uh, this is my chief medical offender, Dr Mucky, sir.
(MUCKY curtsies.)
SCOCK
I believe the good doctor is conducting research into making uniforms more comfortable, Admiral.
OBAMA
Excellent, excellent – you must send me a copy of the report, Mucky.
MUCKY
I’ll make sure it’s exceptionally well illustrated, Admiral.
OBAMA
I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure. Now, the Bridge please, gentlemen.
SCOCK
If I may say so, Admiral, I’m not sure that would be entirely wise.
(But ADMIRAL OBAMA is already at the door, which opens with a particularly ecastatic SFX gasp.)
OBAMA
Er… is that usual, Jim?
JERK
I’m afraid we’re, uh, running a bit low on oil, Admiral.
(SFX: door moans "Oil!" with pleasure.)
SCENE IV: INT. The BRIDGE.
(SFX: Doors pant open.)
Enter JERK, OBAMA, MR SCOCK and DR MUCKY.
SMELU
Ooh-ooh-ooh! Admiral on the bridge! Hello, sailor!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
OBAMA
As you were. Gentlemen - I just want you to carry on as normal.
SMELU
Ooh, get him with his “carry on”! I Sorry, sailor boy, but I don’t do anything normal!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
SCOCK
Dr Mucky, I believe Lieutenant Smelu is due for his annual physical in Dickbay.
MUCKY
Why, you pointy-eared hobgoblin… er, will y’ excuse us, Admiral?
(ADMIRAL OBAMA nods curtly.)
SMELU
Come on, big boy! I hope you’ve got warm hands! Who‘s your dressmaker?
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing again.) SMELU and a muttering DR MUCKY exit.
(SFX: Doors leer suggestively.)
JERK sits in his chair, which begins to vibrate loudly – he hastily presses a button to stop it.
OBAMA
What’s that up there on the screen, Captain Jerk? There seem to be strange, amorphous blobs out there, just hanging in space.
JAKOV
I’m terribly sorry, Keptin. Ve got a leetle carried away.
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing. A panel explodes, messily. JAKOV takes out a heavily-soiled handkerchief and goes forward to wipe the screen. ADMIRAL OBAMA moves over to the science station and peers into the What-The-Butler-Saw viewer.)
OBAMA
What on earth…? Those women are out of uniform!
SCOCK
Er… As a Vulcan I am interested in all aspects of human behaviour, Admiral. My current field of study requires me to observe non-procreative mating rituals, particularly among human females.
OBAMA
That may be, Mr Scock, but Seafleet has strict regulations regarding the improper use of photon torpedoes!
(Cue: crew fall out of chairs laughing)
JERK
Uh, with all due respect, Admiral, it’s been a while since you last had any hands-on experience of uh, running a ship.
EBONY
(removing top)
You can get your hands on these babies any time you like, Admiral!
(SFX: Alarms go off everywhere, panels explode, doors fly open screaming “Yes! Yes!” Cue: crew roll on floor laughing.)
OBAMA
Jerk! This is the slackest crew I’ve ever seen!
SMELU
(appearing naked and proud in doorway)
Chance would be a fine thing!
OBAMA
Captain Jerk, I’m relieving you with immediate effect!
SMELU
You lucky bitch! I’ve been dreaming about that for years! Mind if I watch?
(SFX: Blue alerts, panels explode all over the bridge. Crew roll on floor helplessly. JAKOV and EBONY dive under a console and start throwing items of clothing in the air.
JERK
(forlornly)
Beam me up, Hottie.
(Grams: more cheesy wakka-wakka guitars. Roll end credits.)
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