by Quoth

"I am damn unsatisfied to be killed in this way."

The Vidiian glared defiantly at the away team, who staredunconcernedly back. Geordi and Riker munched boredly at Chinese takeaway, while Data and Worf ignored the occasionally proffered bite.

"Sorry, shmuck, but you've defiled a sacred Bajoran burial ground.  Their culture marks this as a capital offense, and requires death by endless reruns of 'Too Short a Season'. Nothing personal."

The Vidiian howled in rage and launched himself towards Riker,intending to kick him in the head. A moment later, he was staggering back from the solidly-built first officer, shrieking in pain while Will seemed totally apathetic to his reaction.

"Fatty, you with your thick face have hurt my instep!"

"Too bad." Worf sounded distinctly unsympathetic. "It you do not come with us, we are authorized to shoot you."

"Gun wounds again?" sneered the Vidiian. "I'm used to them now, so go ahead, make my bed!"

Geordi snorted. "That's one of the worst wannabe sexual jokes I've ever heard."

"Same old rules: no eyes, no groin," shot back the Vidiian.

"Don't be so sure, patchwork face. People deficient in one area often... have compensation in others," muttered Data under his breath as Geordi smirked. Worf stared in disbelief at the both of them.

"Huh! See, there you go! I'm the only normal person here!" exclaimed the Vidiian.

"A normal person wouldn't steal pituitaries!" retorted Riker. "Prepare to be arrested!" He suddenly remembered that they didn't come here for a slanging match. He remembered he had to get this cleared up fast and efficiently, as became a Starfleet officer. He also remembered that he had an appointment in Deanna's bed in five minutes.

"Damn, I'll burn you into a barbeque chicken!" hollered the Vidiian as he raised his own weapon and pointed it wildly at Riker, then swung it around and settled it on Geordi. "No. Him, instead, unless you let me be."

Data turned to Geordi, and told him calmly. "Leave the area. I do not wish to see this criminal roast you."

"I don't want to," Geordi replied stubbornly.

"Take my advice, or I'll spank you without pants."

"I wish! It's about time, Mister Fully Functional!"

The Vidiian looked wildly around for some control of the situation.  Geordi and Data were still arguing with each other, although definately shmoozing closer. Worf was staring in undisguised astonishment at the human and the android. Obviously, he had truly believed that Geordi had needed Data to assist him with 51 warp core alignments in the past month. The Vidiian's gaze settled on Riker, who was shovelling in beef and black bean and paying no attention to anyone. 

Quickly the Vidiian fired, turning the first officer of Starfleet's flagship into something that distinctly resembled burnt toast in colour, texture and scent. 

Worf growled in frustration. Commander Riker could never seem to do anything right. "Who gave you the nerve to get killed here?" he demanded of the blackened corpse.

"Quiet or I'll blow your throat up!" screamed the Vidiian.

"You always use violence," observed Geordi as he took a meditative bite of his sweet and sour. He made a face. "I should've ordered the glutinous rice chicken."

The Vidiian screamed, unable to bear any more of these apparently insane Starfleet officers. Dropping the weapon, the graverobber scurried off and hid behind a Bajoran tombstone.

Worf snarled and set out to recapture his prey. "I'll fire aimlessly if you don't come out!" he hollered. Sensing movement nearby, he whirled and pounced, dragging the kicking, screaming fugitive into the clearing.

"You daring lousy guy!" sputtered the Vidiian.

Worf looked at the person next in command after Riker for orders on how to proceed. Data was looking as though he'd much rather be performing another warp engine recalibration, as did Geordi for that matter. However, at Worf's expectant growl, they reluctantly stepped apart. Data glared at the Vidiian. He did not feel particularly kindly disposed to the person who was making things so difficult.

"Beat him out of recognizable shape," he instructed Worf.

With a savage howl of delight, Worf set about doing exactly that, while Data and Geordi turned their attentions away from the spectacle and back to something they found far more interesting. 

Worf let out a ferocious bellow as he advanced on the trembling Vidiian. "Are you scared?" he demanded.

"Never!" shouted the Vidiian defiantly. "I have been scared shitless too much lately."

"Oh really," snarled Worf sarcastically.

"Just think of the amount of surgery and associated pain I've had to go through!" retorted the Vidiian. "I got knife scars more than the number of your leg's hair!"

"Beware! Your bones are going to be disconnected."

With that, Worf picked up his Walther PPK, which he used because he loved the fact that James Bond worked for an organization that actually allowed him to shoot first and ask questions later, and shot the Vidiian several times.

The Vidiian blinked in pain. "The bullets inside are very hot. Why do I feel so cold?"

Worf snarled and refused to bother answering the question. "Now to offer your steaming entrails up to Kahless as proof of our honourable battle."

"How can you use my intestines as a gift?" the injured Vidiian wanted to know.

"I wish to ensure he will take you directly into the afterlife in order to compensate for your grisly death. The worse your death is, the more likely he will take you." He paused. "This will be of fine service to you, you bag of the scum. I am sure you will not mind that I remove your manhoods and leave them out on the dessert flour for your aunts to eat."

He tore off the Vidiian's trousers, and saw something he definately did not expect to see.

"So, I'm female! So what!" said the Vidiian defensively. "I never called myself a male, he did!" and she pointed towards Data, who was now performing warp core calibration number 52 with Geordi.

Worf looked-- and quickly looked away again. Trying to regain his balance, he rushedly said "Yah-hah, evil spider woman! I have captured you by the short rabbits and can now deliver you violently to your gynecologist for a thorough extermination."

[Now why did I say that?] he wondered. [My orders were to administer death.] Abandoning the torture approach, he killed the Vidiian with one blow.

"Oh, well. 'Too Short a Season' would have been just too cruel, anyway," he muttered under his breath.

A shimmer appeared in the air, and Captain Picard beamed down. He walked up to Worf and asked "Is the problem taken care of, Mister Worf?"

"Yes sir."

"What is this, Mister Worf? It looks like black charcoal," Picard said puzzledly.

"That is your former first officer, sir." 

"Ah." He turned around, and stiffened in shock. "What is THAT, Mister Worf?!"

"That is your chief engineer and your new first officer, sir."

"Heaven help us. And I thought Will was a problem." The captain was silent for a moment. "Mister Worf, call me paranoid, but somehow I am beginning to suspect that all those emergency warp core calibrations Geordi called so suddenly were not entirely necessary for the safety of the ship."

"No, sir." But on reflection, Worf mused, considering the smirks traded by most of the crew whenever Geordi called the bridge about a warp core recalibration, the captain and he had been the only ones who had not thought so at the time.

"What is our new mission, captain?"

The captain's face instantly filled with glee. "We are going to kidnap, torture and asassinate Gul Madred, Worf!"

[Oh no,] thought Worf. [Not that again.] The last time Picard had got all revengeful, it meant that half the ship and a good percentage of the crew had been assimilated.

Picard was still speaking, unaware of Worf's trepadition. "Greetings, large black person! Let us not forget to form a team and go into the country to inflict the pain of our karate feets on some ass of the giant lizard person."

[I,] reflected Worf, [am the most normal person on the ship. And I eat gagh.]

He tapped his badge. "Four to beam up."

Unfortunately for Data and Geordi, they didn't notice...


Most categorically the end.