"Sir?" Data was the first one to notice.
Soon, everyone on the bridge was looking.
"Jean Luc," Beverly Crusher suppressed
a gufaw. "I *know* you said you wanted to clean up the galaxy, but..."
"I sense perhaps you might be taking things
too far." Deanna Troi finished for her.
"I won't stop, till it squeaks." Jean
Luc Picard boasted, placing his fists against his hips.
Riker emerged from the Turbolift, and stopped
dead in his tracks. "What the...?"
There, on the bridge, stood the captain- or
was it? Dressed in white pants and a white tee-shirt, and sporting
a glimmering gold earring, Picard stood with his arms crossed over his
chest. "I vow, as I stand here today, I will make the entire galaxy
clean! And with no wax build up!" To back up his claims, a
mop and bucket stood nearby.
"It's finally happened." Riker shook
his head.
"Captain," Troi approached him.
"Aaaargh!" Picard shouted, holding up
a hand. "Get away from me, with your touchy-feely filth, you ....harlot!"
"Jean Luc!" Crusher gasped.
"And *you*!" Picard pointed a steady
finger at the good doctor. "Let me tell you, once and for all, these
bones are *not* for jumping!"
Geordi snickered silently, but did not escape
notice.
"All right, you." Picard stomped over
to him, holding out one hand. "You and that...*visor*! You
can see under people's *clothing* with those, can't you?"
"What?"
"Sir," Riker stepped up and tried to
take the Captain's elbow.
"No you don't!" Picard roared, jerking
away. "Look at you! Seething with filth! Why, I could
catch a communicable disease, just looking at you!"
There was a dull rumble, a flash of light,
and Q.
"Smut Fairy!" Picard shouted, and grabbed
up his mop.
"Why, Jean Luc!" Q smiled engagingly.
"None of that!" Picard threatened; but
planted the bucket firmly against his back-side, just in case. "I've
had enough of all of you, and your NC-17 behavior! From here on out,
I'm calling a ship-wide ban on buxom, busty, babes and bonnie boyish buggerers!"
"Sir." Data stood. "I believe
we all concur that you are unfit for duty. It is with regret, that
I must relieve you of duty."
"Sex toy!" Picard accused, backing toward
the turbolift. "I'm not listening to you, you walking dildo!"
He paused to catch his breath. "And that's the *last* time I want
to hear the word "dildo" on this ship!"
"Space virus?" Beverly theorized.
"Too much pressure?" Troi proposed.
"Not enough nookie?" Riker wondered.
"Censors." Geordie concluded.
"Sensors?!" Riker snapped into action.
"What are the sensors picking up?"
"Censors don't pick things up, they shut things
down. It's what they live for. Compensates for having boring
lives. But you don't have to take *my* word for it; I have a few
books..."
"I'm confused." Troi confessed.
"Big surprise." Crusher muttered.
"So what do we do with him?" she jerked a thumb at the Captain, who
was pounding on the turbolift door.
"I have an idea." Q offered.
"I bet you do." Riker scoffed.
"I think it would be better, though, if Dr. Crusher injected him with a
dose of reality."
"One shot of real life, coming up."
Beverly loaded an injector. "Hold him still."
"No! No!" Picard protested.
"I don't *want* reality! Reality is ugly, and dirty, and sometimes
smells atrocious!"
"It does have it's seamier side." Data
agreed. "Mixing fantasy with reality *can* be a volatile solution.
However, it is not half so addictive as denial. Besides: if
one insists upon maintaining a state of denial in the face of reality,
one tends to bust one's ass."
"A *lot*." Riker agreed. "OK,
let's hold him down."
"Nooooooooooo! I want Rainbow Bright!
I want Care Bears! I want a world where toilets are unnecessary!"
The crew shuffled their feet and cleared their
throats.
"Well," Beverly withdrew the empty injector.
"you have to be a *little* unrealistic. It is fantasy, after all."
Later, in Ten-Forward, the crew indulged in
synthehol. "As if our lives weren't sterile enough." Beverly
bemoaned, glaring at a glass of fake scotch.
"Damned censors." Riker growled.
"It's bad enough I have to be a phony good for nothing cheese eater.
If it weren't for the sex, I'd blow my brains out!"
"Here, here." Troi agreed. "You
think it's easy, being miss (hic) exotic-two-goody-shoe person?"
"There, there." Picard consoled her,
wearing his regular uniform. "It's all over now."
"Thank the Continuum." Q sighed.
"Although," he smiled a bit, "I rather *liked* the earring."
THE END