Discussion in 'Star Trek: Voyager' started by Akiraprise, Jul 20, 2009.
, thought B'Elanna, grabbing a pair
of ice tongs and a
matched set of Risan feather
assless chaps. Janeway thinking her
bun of steel too tight,
tossed her Thigh Master into
the nearest class M world,
which the locals mistook for
a gift from their gods.
Like Tattoo, they drew images
, in the sand, of small
muscular thighs, their new ideal
of physical superiority and perfection.
The old ideal, being rotund
sky people, scattered around the
dessert table, merrily feasting on
everything previously forbidden to them
by busybodying nutrionists, was gone.
"Let's exercise," they cried out.
"Captain, we've contaminated these people!"
Separate names with a comma.