Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Sea Trek: The Degeneration


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.

JERK
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.)

Monday, 3 January 2011

Happy 2010 From Apple!

Each pattern is satisfyingly unique
Achingly hip iPhone 4 users gradually woke up this afternoon to a cheerful greeting from the gadget that makes them better than the likes of us, wishing them a smug and superior 2010 from Apple.

“Here at Apple HQ, we’re confident that 2010 will prove to be even more exciting than 2011 was!” commented chief prick Steve Jobs, in a seasonal text message to his global mindslave community.

“I’m sure my supervisor will understand my non-arrival this morning when I tell him that my iPhone decided, for undoubtedly excellent reasons I don’t need to bother myself with, that I didn’t need to go to work today,” smiled self-styled ‘web designer’ Josh Geake, one of many insufferable twats whose iPhone alarm has chosen not to go off this year. “I feel nothing but pity for all the cattle whose cheap, inferior technology forced them to rejoin the rat race today.”

“I also feel sorry for all those bottom-feeders who have to post photos all over the internet without the hallmark green blob in the middle, thus proclaiming to the world that they are too poor to own an iPhone,” he yawned. “And it’s hard to believe, but these Luddites are still unaware that the plus sign is now the international symbol for turning the volume down.”

“My beloved £800 iPhone has revolutionised my social life,” he added with a self-satisfied smirk. “If it wasn’t for those ultra-fashionable yellow dots on the screen, ├╝ber-cool cracks in the back panel and a string of exciting undocumented features involving the virtual camera shutter, proximity sensor, battery life and 3G speed and waiting to discover the correctly hip way to hold it, I’d never have had so many opportunities to inteface with so many beautiful trend-setters just like me queueing up for hours at the Genius Bar.”

Tragically, Stephen Fry was unable to offer a characteristically witty insight into the latest exciting iPhone drama, presumably because he was still snoring away merrily.

Miliband Suddenly Realises VAT Increase Will Make Stuff Cost More

Those large buttons are a big help to little Miliband fingers
Ed Miliband, a little boy who leads the Labour Party, has just worked out that the VAT increase due to come into effect at midnight will make things cost a bit more.

“I got this brilliant calculator from my brother David for Christmas,” enthused Mr Miliband. “I showed it to my uncle Alan the postman this morning – he’s a shadow chancellor in his spare time – and he explained it all to me. Apparently that ‘%’ button isn’t much help at all! You have to use your head a bit, but if you times the price of something by 0.8510638, then times that by 1.2, that’s how much it’s going to cost tomorrow.”

“And it’s a bigger number!” he exclaimed.

Mr Miliband then went on to explain to a room of hung-over journalists that poor people seem to be poor because they don’t have an awful lot of money, and that buying things that cost more will make them even poorer.

“So my advice to poor people is not to buy things any more, and then they won’t be poor any more,” he concluded brightly.

Posh boy chancellor George Osborne, however, replied that his uncle Vincent - who is a bit barmy and goes dancing every evening - had given him a really good scientific calculator for Christmas, and he had worked out how to do compound interest all by himself, with a bit of help from a nice man from the Treasury.

“Apparently VAT is charged on every transaction, not just the point of sale,” he gushed enthusiastically, “So VAT is added when the manufacturer sells his product to the wholesaler, and again when the wholesaler sells it to the retailer and yet again when the retailer sells it to you. That’s why great-uncle Ted introduced it in the first place, apparently, when I was two. Add in their profits, and prices are jolly well going to go up by a bit more than the measly 2½% the dopey proles are expecting.”

“It ends up more like 10%, actually,” he chortled. “Next time little Ed’s mum takes him to Toys’R’Us to spend his pocket money, he’s going to poo himself.”