My muse, she comes for me again, that vicious, heartless mistress of my creative brain. She has decreed there will be no food or sleep until this comes out.
I would also like to assure my readers that this particular SJ is a completely and 100% accurate representation of what occurs in my head far too often for my liking. I would also like to thank and apologize to R. Stevens for thieving what proved to be a far too apropos title. Bow before his might!
And no, without further ado, I present:
Starship Josh: The Opposite of Frequency is Celibacy
*The Bridge is crowded. Commander Super-Ego is sitting in the commander chair with Subcommander Ego and Id flanking him on either side. Clustered around them are Emotion, Intuition, Intellect and a whole host of other crewmen. All of them are staring at the viewscreen intently.*
SuperEgo: Subcommander, what do you think?
Ego: Well, I thin…
Id: I think we should have SEX with her!
Ego: *Smacks Id on the back of the head.* Calm down, Sparky. Eyes, can we confirm this?
*Voice of Visual on Intercom*: Confirmed, sir. We've checked twice, she's real.
Ego: Auditory?
*Auditory on Intercom*: Her words flow with a both a delicate poetry and an acid wit that leave us faint and trembling, as if a choir of angels were gently murmuring our name over a clear starlight night, sir!
*Ego blinks. Everyone looks at Emotion.*
Emotion: *Glares around* What?!? They asked for suggestions!
Ego: *Shakes his head, looks back at screen.* Thank you, Ears. Hmmm… *He purses his lips and strokes his chin.* Olfactory? Anything to add?
*Nose on intercom*: Only that her scent is subtle, clear, yet intoxicating, and carries the subtle essence of jasmine, vanilla, and infinite promise, sir!
*Everyone looks at Emotion. She starts looking off to the corner and whistling.*
Ego: I see. Tactile senses?
*Touch on Intercom*: She feels nice, sir.
Ego: *Blinks* Nice?
*Touch*: Real nice, sir.
Ego: That's all you've got to say? "Real nice?"
*Touch*: Yep.
Ego: Uh…well, all right, then, I supp…
*Touch*: Well, real nice, and that her sensitive supple skin is so silken that satin could scarcely be so satisfying, sir.
Emotion: *Pumps fist in triumph.* I knew he could do it! Good alliteration, Touch!
*Touch*: Thanks, Emotion.
Ego: *Pinches bridge of nose, furrows brow.* Thank you, Senses. Well, Comman…
Id: Wait! *Punches Intercom* Taste buds, we're gonna need you to…*Ego smacks Id behind the head again.*
SuperEgo: Belay that order, Taste! Well, Subcommander?
Ego: Sir, I'd like to get some other opinions.
SuperEgo: Agreed. Emotion?
Emotion: Well, sir, I…
Id: I think we should have SEX with her!
Emotion: *Smacks Id behind the head." Sir, she's a warm, gentle, compassionate person who's clearly been wounded enough before to be wise to the world, yet still passionate enough to seek love and brave enough to trust. She's graceful, wonderful, and she makes us laugh. Do I need to go further, or should I should you the "magical first date" plans I've just had the imagination whip up?
SuperEgo: No, thank you, Emotion, I think that will do…
Emotion: Maybe a rough layout of how our wedding should go?
Id: No!
Emotion: Perhaps what our children might look like?
*Everyone else*: No!
*Emotion pouts*
SuperEgo: *Rubbing temple* Intellect?
Intellect: Thank you, sir. *takes out a huge bundle of index cards.* Well, drawing on our knowledge of biology, sociology, genetics, ethics, anatomy and physiology, our dating history, social availability, scheduling, and by making several educated extrapolations vis á vis our perceived compatibility, sexual preference, respective ages, economic status, and expectations for the future, I'm compiled a nineteen-point statement which, in full, states that….
Id: I think we should have SEX with her!
Intellect: *glares at Id*…well…yes, that, essentially. * Waves index cards* Although, Commander, if I may, I believe the merit of my nineteen points still bears mentioning, namely that…
SuperEgo: Yes, thank you, Intellect, another time, perhaps.
Ego: Hmm…Intuition?
Intuition: I think we should ask her out. Maybe.
Ego: Thank you, Intuition, succinct and too the point as always. *Sighs* Well, I suppose for fairness, and the sake of the official record, we should ask…Id, your thoughts?
*Silence*
Ego: Id?
*All look around. Id has disappeared.*
Ego: Id?
Id: *off to the side.* Hee, hee!
*All look. Id is over in the corner, not even looking at the screen, playing with a Koosh ball on a rubber lead, bouncing it up and down from his palm to the floor.*
Id: Boing boing boingy boingy boingy boing boingy boing boing…*Looks over, sees everyone staring.* Boi…Um… *Stuffs Koosh in pocket, hastily looks back towards the screen.* Uhh…Yes, what they…ahh…well, clearly I think we should…
Ego: *Scrubs face in frustration* Yes, thank you, Id.
Id: No, wait, I'm ready now! Ask me again! I've got it pat! Heh, heh, pat…Uh, I mean, Got it! Completely focused now!
SuperEgo: The moment's gone, Id.
Id: Awww…darn!
Ego: Well, sir, after careful review of my colleagues' thoughts and opinions, I would conclude that we should ask her out as a start to a sincere, concerted effort to carry out a romantic and sexual relationship with the subject in question.
SuperEgo: *Nods* I concur. Well, it's settled! Now, let's get cracking! I going to need some good date ideas, Imagination, and Verbal, let's get cracking with the words we'll need to ask her out! For now, Legs! *Punches Intercom* Forward march!
*Pause. Nothing happens.*
SuperEgo: *Looks Confused. Punches Intercom button again.* Legs?
*Static*
SuperEgo: What in…
*Looks around. Over off to the side, sees Anxiety's massive, towering form holding a massive drink in his hand. He's holding it slightly behind himself while his arms are folded. The glass has tipped, so it's pouring over a panel that says "Intercom Relays. Keep clear of liquids!"*
SuperEgo: Anxiety!
Anxiety: *looks down* Oops. *Tries to wipe off console, but smashes it instead."
Insecurity: *Comes lumbering in from below.* Hey, guys, check this out! *Trips and falls, smashing a crate marked "Witty Remarks" to splinters, destroying its contents, and dropping a massive jar filled with dark slimy things, which begin to escape everywhere.* Aww, darn, my catalog of our personal flaws!
*The chaos worsens*
SuperEgo: Catch them!
Intellect: Remain calm! Remain cal…*smash*
Anxiety: Oops. Careful, tiny.
Intuition: Insecurity, man, I think you should…
*CRUNCH bang tinkle tinkle SMASH*
Intuition: …well, never mind.
Ego: Stop!
Anxiety: Hey, Insecurity, catch!
Ego: I am not a baaaAAAAAALLLLLLLLAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH - *THUD*
Insecurity: Oops.
SuperEgo: Inhibitor Squad! On the double! We need to a quick rein on these emotions!
*Tasers fire*
Emotion: AAAAIAIAHGHGHHEEEEEE!!!
SuperEgo: Not Emotion, you imbeciles, THOSE - *Smash*
Insecurity: Hey, man, I think you sat in something.
Anxiety: Gross.
*A scene on unimaginable carnage, chaos, destruction and personal injury ensues. When it's over, SuperEgo in sitting in what remains of his smashed chair, painted yellow from head to toe, Ego is stuck headfirst in the wall, Intuition is wandering around with a bucket crammed over his head, Emotion is sprawled senseless in the shattered pile of witty remarks, and Intellect is huddled over a small pile of confetti on the floor with a giant roll of tape.*
Intellect: My notes! My beautiful notes! It's ok, it's just a few small rips! I can fix it!
Intuition: *Pats bucket with hands* I think someone turned out the lights.
Emotion: *singing quietly off-key* Oh, won't you…take me…to…Funkytown…won't you take me…Funky…
SuperEgo: *sits quietly, tilting to the left in his off-base chair. He scowls grimly, and then deliberately presses the intercom button, which squeals with a burst of static and then clears.* Sensory Command?
*Captain of Sensory Command*: Sir? For the love of God, what happened?
SuperEgo: Oh, nothing much. Can I get a status update on our target?
*Sensory Command*: Uh…yes, sir. Let's see…
SuperEgo: Yes, Sensory?
*Sensory Command*: Umm…well, sir, it seems our target is confiding her romantic problems to us, values us as a friend, and is currently dating another woman.
SuperEgo: I see. Thank you, Sensory Command. *Releases Intercom button.*
*Memory's voice chirps on the intercom*: Same as last time, Commander?
SuperEgo: A little better this time, I think. I assume we've already started dealing with this in our usual manner?
*Memory*: *Hiccups* Naturellement, Monsieur!
No comments:
Post a Comment