Star Trek: Shoebox

[RobertScorpio]

Once in a while, a gift is special.

It all started on Christmas Day, 2006. It was an ordinary Christmas day in that all over the world millions upon millions of children woke to find wrapped presents beneath the Christmas tree. Some were even lucky enough to find cookies waiting for them to eat while opening the presents.

And it didn’t matter much if you were old, or young, rich or poor; everyone got presents. There was little Billy Munson. He wanted a baby horse, pony, for Christmas. So his rich millionaire father got his son a pony. When Billy came down the stairs of family’s large Tudor Mansion in Hartford Connecticut, he found nearly a hundred presents to open. He was the only child of Michael and Kelly Benton, and thus, at the age of seven, he was spoiled. There was a toy pony on the table, and Michael told his son to look out the window near the back of the main dining room.

The young boy ran over to the window, and looked out to see a white pony, barely able to stand, near the fence. The boy smiled, and his parents were oh so happy.

Two days later, already tired of the pony, Billy had left the gate open and the little pony, curious about the world, ambled out and into the nearby road and was struck by a truck and killed.

* * * *

On the other side of town was a trailer-park. The folks who lived there were commonly referred to as ‘white trash’ or ‘trailer trash’. But, believe it or not, they were just normal people living normal lives; just without as much money. And yet they lived happy lives, some of them at least. Sure, there were those who lived in the trailer-park who had issues at works, or with their children, and why not? As mentioned earlier, they were normal people dealing with the normal issues of life. And that brings our story to little Jeffery Hunt.

Jeffery was twelve-years old. He wasn’t like most the children his age. When he was five years old, his father killed him self. His mother remarried, and her new husband beat Jeffery. Usually the beatings happened with a belt, or brush, but did it really matter what the man used to inflict such pain? His mother, Sandra, was always drunk, or gone, or didn’t care. The only thing that saved Jeffery was when his step-father was stupid enough to try and shake a vending machine to get out a jammed candy bar, only to have the machine fall over him, and kill him. That was one of Jeffery’s happiest moments in his short life.

His mom, grieving for the loser of a second husband she had lost, killed her self right in front of Jeffery by blowing her head off with a gun. By that time, he was ten at the time, he didn’t really care. His life was ruined the moment his first father killed him self.

Jeffery was adopted, and now in his second year with his new family, was about to share his second Christmas with his new parents. They were nice people, very nice. They were not wealthy, in fact they were far from being even upper middle class, but his new parents, Barb and Mitch Bennett, had provided Jeffery with stability. Their own son had died in a car-crash, and being unable to have other children, they adopted Jeffery.

So all three of them, Jeffery, Barb and Mitch, knew of the loss, and pain, that came circumstances changed lives. And because Barb and Mitch had to work three jobs each to support their meager existence, Jeffery’s Christmas did not include a pony, or an Xbox360. When Jeffery woke up that same Christmas morning that Billy Benton did when he got his pony, Jeffery came out of the closet (which doubled as his room) and found only one gift for him under the small make-shift Christmas tree, what had actually come from the nearby field. It was actually a bush, put in a vase, with a long bulb on the top to even denote it was a Christmas tree.

And, with there only being one gift, there was a note left by Barb. It simply read “for you; our sweet son Jeffery.”

It was early still Christmas morning. And as Billy was staring out the window of his house at his white pony, Jeffery tore off the Christmas wrapping paper of his lone present. With the paper now torn from the present, Jeffery set it back on the table. It was a shoebox. Jeffery didn’t need shoes, he didn’t socks, and he didn’t need boots. What Jeffery didn’t know was that his life was about to change. Because inside the box was the most extraordinary gift anyone had ever been given.

He stood over the shoebox, and slid the top off. He set the top of the box to the side, and then looked inside the box…..

STAR TREK:
SHOEBOX

 

[RobertScorpio]

Throughout the world, millions of people collected snow-globes. Just by using one’s hand, a person could flip a snow-globe upside down, then set it back down, right-side up, and watch the simulated snow fall back down upon the village setting inside the globe. It was an act of God, to create weather in such a way. Sure, other people had tried to create weather, but no one had the weather-creating gig down like God.

--
Medicine-man Ayina of the Navajo tribe, in the year 1842, believed he could change the weather with mere chants. Unfortunately he was struck by lighting on his second attempt.

--
Tsaki, a Japanese inventor of the early twentieth-century believed that by launching him self in a balloon, and seeding the clouds, he could make it snow or rain. Unfortunately the flock of ducks that were flying south for the winter didn’t understand what would happen to a balloon if one of their beaks, or in this case, several dozen beaks, penetrated the balloon. Tsaki died while trying to make it rain, though it must be said that it did indeed rain that day, in Tokyo Japan. Maybe he was successful?

--
Now, just by holding a snow-globe, a mere person could make it snow on a facsimile of a world.

Other people, who had God complexes, had ant farms, or, hamsters, or other creations under the sun in which they could flex their god muscles upon. In Billy’s case it was the pony he owned for two short days. Sometimes, when people are Gods, they lose interest in their minions. And then there was Jeffery and his shoebox.

As he looked inside his shoebox, he wondered why his parents had chosen to have given him a gift such as the one before his eyes. He had seen Star Trek once or twice on TV, and found it to be rather boring, or, silly. Crazy episodes, such as the one about a mute women, or the one that had rock creatures that made Abraham Lincoln fight along side William Shatner did not intrigue him as much as a book by Heinlein. In the days he was routinely roughed up by his stepfather, Jeffery would escape reality by diving in Heinlein. By the age of eleven, Jeffery had read several of the great author’s books. TV science-fiction, from Star Trek, to Battlestar Galactica, to Dr. Who, to FOX news network, never did anything for Jeffery.

And yet, his parents chose to give him a very detailed model, which was about the size of his arm, from his elbow to his fingers. It was a model of the famous ship from Star Trek, the USS Enterprise, or so that’s what the small letters on the larger saucer section read them it to be.

Jeffery reached inside the box and lifted the model, toy, or whatever it was, out so as to get a better look at it.

“This thing would never make it in space,” he whispered to himself. “These two nacelle thingies, on these two small support struts, would never hold.”

--
But inside the ship, it was a totally different story. Captain Kirk struggled to climb back in his chair.

“Spock,” Kirk said, as he looked back towards the science station, “what can you tell me?”

“Instruments are coming back on-line,” Spock reported. “I will have a report momentarily.”

Kirk helped Chekov back into his own seat at navigation, as Uhura and the others climbed back into their seats as well.

--
Jeffery set the ship back down inside of the shoebox. The Enterprise toy just didn’t hold any of his interest. Then he heard a scraping at the back kitchen door. Jeffery climbed off of the chair he was on, and headed over to the door. Being that he lived in a trailer, the back door wasn’t really that far away, at all.

Upon opening it, he looked down and saw the cat; Crispy. Crispy was a stray-cat that had adopted Jeffery and his parents. He was a male tabby mix, and would wander around the trailer-park and, almost on a weekly basis, would find himself at Jeffery’s door. Crispy wasn’t anyone’s cat at all; he was everyone’s cat.

Jeffery let the cat in, and placed down a bowl of fry food for the cat to eat.

“I have to go brush my teeth,” Jeffery said to Crispy. “When I’m done, I will play with you.”

Jeffery ambled away, as Crispy began to eat its very dry and very hard and crunchy food. Not really being hungry, Crispy began to walk around the kitchen, looking for something to kill and play with, or was it the other way around? Crispy jumped up on the chair and then onto the small table. The shoebox was just as curious looking to Crispy as it had been for Jeffery.

The tabby cat made its way over to he box, then stuck its head up and over the edge so as to see inside the box.

--
James Kirk had never seen anything quite like it before. The entire crew of the Enterprise hadn’t ever seen anything quite like it either. A large, very large, feline head was looking down on them.

“What is that?” Uhura asked. “Is that a cat?”

Kirk was not amused at all. He walked back to where Spock was standing, at the science station, and looked at his first officer.

“Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, hands at his waist, “would you mind telling me what we are looking at.”

“I would suggest,” Spock said to Kirk, “that it is we who are being looked at Captain.”

Uhura had to fight back her smile.

“Very well, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, “Since you and our friend out there share some interesting traits,” Kirk said, as he looked closely at Spock’s pointy right ear, “Perhaps you can get back with me when you have a more refined answer of about our status.”

“I think,” Uhura said from her post, “we should call it fluffy.”

Kirk gave Uhura a whimsical look, and then looked back to Spock.

“We have faced the Klingons, Romulans, Khan and,” Kirk searched his memory, “even Harry Mudd. And now we have the great showdown with…”

“I believe Lt. Uhura referred to it as Fluffy,” Spock reminded Kirk.

--
Fluffy had seen many toys in its short cat-life. This one was no different. And since the thing in the box would no doubt end up in the trash, which was part of Fluffy’s territory, it was time for Fluffy to mark the Enterprise with scent.

--continued…
STAR TREK
SHOEBOX

 

[Mistral]

Once again you dive deep into the weird. Only this time, you've surpassed even the usually strange limits you set for yourself. I don't know what this is but it had me cracking up in places. Fox News. LOL!

 

[mirandafave]

Ewww! That is going to be one nasty attack by the cat. Talk about the fantastic - this is a very fantastic tale you've started to spin Rob. Awesome imagination and I'm left wondering where do you go from here.

 

[kes7]

This is hilariously awesome. I was skeptical after the first chapter, but now you've got me. Truly a .... unique idea.

No, Fluffy! Don't!!!!!

 

[RobertScorpio]

This is hilariously awesome. I was skeptical after the first chapter, but now you've got me. Truly a .... unique idea.

No, Fluffy! Don't!!!!!

I was wondering, if Fluffy does the bad deed, how would shatner play that scene??

Rob

 

[RobertScorpio]

Once again you dive deep into the weird. Only this time, you've surpassed even the usually strange limits you set for yourself. I don't know what this is but it had me cracking up in places. Fox News. LOL!

that FOX news joke was aimed my brother-in-law who lives and breathes Sean Hannity. He read it and got a laugh too...all in good fun...

Rob

 

[RobertScorpio]

RED ALERT
RED ALERT
RED ALERT
TOUCHDOWN!!!

The crew of the USS Enterprise was well accustomed to the loud whining sound that denoted that the ship’s crew was to be at a heightened sense of awareness. It didn’t matter what a person was doing, or where they were, or who they were with; the message was clear, if you were a crew member. PAY ATTENTION!!!

Touchdowns were scoring plays from the game of American Football. They were worth six points, and were the climax of a scoring drive.

Now, as for a red alert, for some it meant, upon hearing the whining noise, rolling out of bed, half-naked, and landing on the person who was in the bunk below; sending both crashing to the ground, tangled up in a position that might indicate to others that you shared a same sex relationship.

“Sorry,” an innocent bystander who walked by might say, upon seeing two men in such a revealing position; “I won’t say anything!”

“It’s not what you think,” Ens. Landers, one of the men tangled up in a ball of humanity pleaded with the bystander.

The other man in the ball of humanity just smiled, and lifted an eyebrow, at the bystander.

--

For some it meant that the gravity-toilets might actually reverse their flow, as a chorus of “holy sh*ts” were yelled out from various restrooms across the Enterprise.

--
The bulk of the crew had assigned areas to go to when Red Alert was sounded through the halls of the mighty starship. If you were an engineer’s mate, you went to engineering. If you worked in weapons, you went to weapons. If your assigned duty was being the chief surgeon of the ship; you would normally go to sickbay to prepare for the eventual wounded; if you were Dr. McCoy you went to the bridge.

Captain Kirk was standing next to the helm control consol, which Sulu was expertly controlling as McCoy burst on to the bridge.

“Jim,” McCoy said, as he scanned the bridge with his worried eyes and found Kirk standing near Sulu’s post, “what the hell is going on?!”

At that moment, the Turbo-lift doors opened again and Scotty came rushing on to the bridge.

“Cap’n,” Scotty announced in his own excited way, “what’s happ’in-nin???!!!”


Kirk didn’t answer either of them, he didn’t have time to. He looked back up at the main viewing screen. The large feline was staring down at them, almost as if it could see them. Then, slowly, the screen zoomed in on a large round metal object dangling from the collar wrapped around the monster feline’s neck. Four words were inscribed on it.

M Y N A M E I S F L U F F Y

Almost as if on cue, Kirk read the words out loud, for all to hear, even though they could all see the words just as clearly as he could.

“My….name…is,” Kirk snapped his fingers, “FLUFFY!” He stood more upright, almost as if he were a hunter standing over a large bear he had just taken down with a spear.

Kirk looked over to Scotty. The proud, and very intelligent Scotsman, had a dumbfounded look on his face.

“What does it mean Cap’n?” Scotty asked.

Kirk could only shake his head.

“I….don’t….know… what it means.” Kirk replied.

Sulu, in his usual deadpan manner, looked up to Kirk.

“I believe it’s the cat’s name,” Sulu pointed out.

In a quick, rapid fire manner, Kirk pointed at Sulu.

“Yeeeeees,” Kirk said, as if Sulu had discovered gold, and then Kirk quickly walked over to Spock’s science station.

“The creature’s name,” Kirk informed Spock, “is…..fluu,” he pauses, “uuufy.”

Spock arched an eyebrow, amazed at Kirk’s deductive ability.

“Astonishing,” Spock said in his usual logical tone.

At that instant, to the dismay of the crew, the cat jumped over the giant barrier that contained the Enterprise. The giant head of the cat became even larger as it moved in and started to, seemingly, sniff all around the giant saucer section of the Enterprise.

McCoy, speaking for the others, said, “What is it doing?”

Uhura stood up, as Kirk watched, and cupping the metal thingy in her ear, she looked to Kirk as she turned to her panel and pressed a button. Then, for all to hear, a sound came across the bridge.

“MEOOOOOOW”

Kirk quickly whirled around and looked to Spock.

“Spock,” Kirk said, “could…this…be a form…of…communication? Try the universal translator.”

Spock thought for a moment.

“Captain,” Spock said, “I believe this animal is referred to as a cat. And if I’m not mistaken, it does not have a known vocabulary.”

“Please,” Kirk, pointing at Spock’s visor device, “try anyway.”

“Very well,” Spock said as he turned to gaze into his scanner.

“Jim,” McCoy said with a smile, “Didn’t you ever have a cat?”

“No,” Kirk said, “I grew up… on a farm… in Iowa, we never had cats. Only chickens,” Kirk counted on his fingers as he mentioned each kind of animal, “cows, pigs, roosters, ummmm,” Kirk searched his memory, “horse! We…had…horses! Dogs, but no….cats.”

“Um, Captain,” Uhura said, as she watched the cat on the screen, “I had a cat. And when ever it was sniffing around, like this one is doing, it generally meant it was going to pee on something and mark the object with a scent.”

“We’re about to get peed on?” McCoy asked rhetorically.

Kirk, not liking the sound of that at all, ambled back down to his command chair, as he gave a command to Sulu.

“Lock phasers on target,” Kirk said to Sulu.

A look of disappointment came over McCoy’s face. Horror swept over Uhura’s in the same instant. McCoy went down to where Kirk sat.

“Jim,” McCoy pleaded, “you can’t do this. You can’t phaser a cat.”

Kirk looked over to McCoy.

“That…cat,” Kirk told him, “is about…to…pee on my ship. Sorry bones,” Kirk said with a soft look on his face, “there is no…other………way.”

Sulu looked back to Kirk, as a disheartened McCoy stepped away from Kirk.

“What should I target,” Sulu asked.

Then, on the screen, the cat lifted its left leg, and a pale, cylinder shaped object, drooped down from its lower, mid region.

“Lock target,” Kirk told Sulu, “on whatever that thing is.!” Kirk added, as he pointed at the cylinder shaped thing, as it prepared to ‘fire’ as well.

--

In life, as we all know, destiny, fate, random-chance, or whatever else might control the universe, seems to have a sense of humor. It had a habit of finding a corner of reality, and placing an uncovered chocolate cake there.

In this case, on the counter near the small table on which the shoebox was positioned, there was indeed a chocolate cake with a little note next to it that read; Jeffery, do not touch until I get home.

The note was almost teasing the forces that guided the universe, as if tempting those metaphysical forces to spring into action, and cause turmoil. As Jeffery entered the kitchen, having used the restroom, and saw the cat inside the shoebox with the toy Enterprise, he had no idea that he would be witness to a cataclysmic cosmic event. Because, at that moment, James T Kirk’s voice uttered the word that caused his crew to perk their ears up when ever they heard it; “FIRE!”

Now, it would never be known if Sulu’s targeting was perfect or if he had a sense of humor, but the two blue streaks of energy that streaked out at the behemoth cat did not strike the pale cylinder fleshy object; instead, each beam struck one of two dangling objects that were set slightly behind the cylinder piece of flesh. The phasers zapped the cat’s testicles!

Now, in the grander scheme of things, the chocolate cake was a random event that happened earlier in the morning when Jeffery’s adoptive mother, Barb, had blended the eggs with the flour, and cake mix. She baked the cake while she was preparing for work, and blow drying her hair. She had even let fluffy lick the eggs slightly, before she had whipped them into the mix.

And Fluffy was there when the cake was taken out of the oven, and set on the counter. The cat watched as Barb spread the chocolate frosting over the cake. Cat’s didn’t like cake, but Fluffy was still curious.

Now, as the cat leaped into the air, upon having been zapped where no cat had been phaser zapped before, it looked around, in midair. The cat saw Jeffery rounding the corner and entering the kitchen. Then the cat looked back down at the ship, and hissed. Then, as the cat finished its upward flight, it swiveled its head and looked down at where it was going to land.

Those metaphysical beings spoken of earlier were indeed watching. Vishnu, Jesus Christ, Muhammad, the Spectre, Gene Roddenberry and God all watched from their various points in the cosmic reality as the cat made a pin-point landing, right dab in the middle of the chocolate cake. Roddenberry smiled and mouthed the only appropriate word for such an occasion.

Touchdown!

STAR TREK
SHOEBOX

 

[kes7]

Absolutely hilarious.

The bulk of the crew had assigned areas to go to when Red Alert was sounded through the halls of the mighty starship. If you were an engineer’s mate, you went to engineering. If you worked in weapons, you went to weapons. If your assigned duty was being the chief surgeon of the ship; you would normally go to sickbay to prepare for the eventual wounded; if you were Dr. McCoy you went to the bridge.

“The creature’s name,” Kirk informed Spock, “is…..fluu,” he pauses, “uuufy.”

Spock arched an eyebrow, amazed at Kirk’s deductive ability.

“Jim,” McCoy pleaded, “you can’t do this. You can’t phaser a cat.”

Kirk looked over to McCoy.

“That…cat,” Kirk told him, “is about…to…pee on my ship. Sorry bones,” Kirk said with a soft look on his face, “there is no…other………way.”

So much funny here, I could quote all day. Thanks for the much-needed giggles.

 

[Mistral]

Robert, I think you finally found your calling-Head Wacko in the Nut House. Seriously, (if that word can be used in the same thread as your story) this is some crazily funny sh*t. Like Kes said, very quotable. LMAO!

 

[mirandafave]

It hurts! So very funny. Rob you're a genius - or a madman! Either way I like. What a story!

 

[RobertScorpio]

Beebo Mukalo was born on the big island of Hawaii. At an early age it was clear that his arms would not grow to a normal length. And kids, being the cold blooded monsters they are, teased Beebo early on in his life. Due to the genetics of his family, Beebo was pudgy, just like his mom and dad, and both sets of grandparents, and all his relatives.

His father, Tumo, had made good money as a grip on the set of several TV shows and movies that had been filmed in Hawaii. And so when Beebo turned twelve years old, his father shipped him off to live with his aunt , Tumo’s sister who was named Haimi, on the mainland. Tumo knew that his son’s life would be a challenge, with his condition. So, off Beebo was shipped to find a better life in Georgia.

Haimi, as it turned out, traveled around the mainland with a carnival. She ran the ticket stand, and at the end of each day, she did the books with the owner of the circus each night; among other things. (Rumor had it they were lovers.)

When Beebo arrived, Haimi was there to greet her young and naïve nephew. And, it was on that first day he arrived and met his aunt at the airport in Savannah Georgia that Beebo’s life changed; forever.

The drive to the carnival wasn’t too long. Beebo had never been off the island of Hawaii, and so the sights he got to see on the airplane, and the drive with Haimi were very new. The mainland was always that far off place in the distance to most natives. Although Hawaii had become a state in the year 1959, most Hawaiians felt that the rest of the country considered them like they did some crazy uncle kept far from view in the attic. Oh, the mainlanders would come for their vacations, for the scenery, but then they would return. Hawaii was far from the paradise on those TV shows made it out to be. There was poverty, and crime. There just weren’t any sinister Red-Chinese agents trying to take over the world.

Haimi, as she drove, kept looking at the young boy, with his short arms crossed over his girth.

“What you gonna do with your life, Beebo?” Haimi asked.

“I don’t know,” Beebo said as he looked out the window, “I was kind of hoping I could be the guy inside of the suit.”

“What?” Haimi asked. “What kind of suit?”

Beebo’s fictional hero wasn’t Superman, or Harry Potter or any of the modern day idols that kids worships. His idol was as fictitious as much as Superman and Harry Potter, but seemed far more real.

“Godzilla,” Beebo responded. “I’ve always wanted to be the guy in the Godzilla suit. I know I would probably have to start out as Gigan, or even Anglius, but I want to eventually be the guy inside Godzilla. Dad thinks with my luck I’d end up being Mothra. And I don’t mean the giant moth. He thinks I’m destined to be a giant caterpillar.”

Haimi looked at her nephew with a quizzical glance. She could tell that the young boy really wanted this.

“Why doesn’t he think you can be Godzilla?” Haimi asked, while wondering in her head what the hell she was doing having such a crazy conversation in the first place.

“He think’s, because of my short arms, I won’t be able to throw rocks like Godzilla, but I could craw like a bug.”

“Your dad, my brother, said that?” Naimi asked with a laugh. She took out a cigar, lit it up, and puffed on it. “Look,” she told Beebo, “you follow your dreams. Don’t let that fat mahi-mahi tell you anything. You want to be Gozilla, then shit, you be Godzilla.”

Haimi drove her car toward a shack that stood outside the dirt field where the carnie/circus workers were assembling the tents and rides. A security guard, who did not work for the carnival, stepped out of the shack to check Haimi’s ID. She smiled at the old black-man as he looked at her card. He was hired locally.

“You’re looking as lovely as ever in that flower shirt,” the guard said to her.

There was a name tag on the guard’s shirt that read Bart.

“Thank you Bart,” Haimi said, while she held her cigar in her right hand, “this is my nephew Beebo.”

Bart gazed in and saw the unique nature of Beebo’s short arms.

“What the hell happened to your arms, boy? Have you been jerkin’ the turkey to much that your arms stopped growing?”

“Bart!” Haimi said in a slight annoyed tone, “he’s only twelve. He was born that way. I think he’s blessed.” She looked at Beebo and smiled, “When he grows up, Beebo wants to be the guy inside of the Godzilla suit in those crazy Japanese movies.”

Bart laughed, as he scratched his bald wrinkly head.

“Boy,” Bart said to Beebo, “you keep that dream alive. Hell, when I was growing up in Alabama, I wanted to be an Astronaut! Fly to the moon, land in the ocean, be a hero.”

“Did you make it?” Beebo asked.

“There was no room for niggas, or so they told me,” Bart said. “But it didn’t stop me. I still dreamed. Maybe my dream didn’t come true, Lord have mercy , but maybe your dream will. That’s the strange things about dreams. They’re like the lottery; you never know when they might come true. Why, just yesterday, I had me a dream about these two women, and we were all…”

“BART!” Haimi said again, even more annoyed.

“…playing dominos.” Bart quickly said, changing gears in midstream.

It was then, at that point in time, that everything was about to change for Beebo. Because suddenly they heard what sounded like an explosion. Perhaps it was the light of chance, or the sound of fate, who could really know. From about three-hundred yards away they saw something burst out of one of the carnival/circus tent’s top, straight up into the sky. And, more strangely, it looked like a man. A flying man!

Haimi and Beebo slouched down so they could follow the trajectory of what ever had been shot out of the tent.

“What is that man doing?” Beebo asked.

And then his eyes began to widen as the man began to fall back towards the ground, towards Haimi’s car, towards them!

It was one of those seminal moments in one’s life that would ripple out forward through time, and Beebo’s meandering life was the pond it was landing on. The flying man crashed into the windshield of the car. Sure enough, it was a man, a now dead man, as his neck had snapped as it smashed through the windshield!!

Haimi and Beebo screamed in fright, and jumped out of the car. Beebo ran to his aunt, and hugged her tight, still reeling from what had just happened. A man came running towards them from the tent. Bart went over to look at the dead man who wore a red cape, and a spandex body suit.

“Haimi,” Beebo said, looking up at his aunt, “what is happening? I’m scared.”

“That dead man is Mr. Cannonball,” she told him. “He is, well I guess was, the cannonball man. He would squeeze his little body inside of that that cannon, and it would shoot him across the sky, or across the tent, and the children would roar. We sell more tickets to that show than anything else.”

The man running from the tent towards where Haimi and Beebo stood wore a cowboy hat, a plaid shirt, and was not happy looking at all.

“Is he?” the man asked as he ran up to Haimi.

“Dead?” Bart answered for her. Bart lifted up the dead man’s arm and let it drop back down to the hood of Haimi’s car. “Yep,” Bart said, as he looked down at the dead man, “he’s dead.”

“Crap!” The man in the cowboy hat yelled. “We gone sold five-hundred tickets for the show tomorrow, and now cannonball man is dead.”

“Just refund the money, Booth.” Haimi said.

“Now you know I can’t do that,” the man, Tom Booth, replied. “I gone already and spent that money on some new outfits for the dancing bears, a new riser of seats, and a new flaming sword for Bubba to swallow. I aint got no frickin’ money to give back.”

“Looks like you’re shit out of luck,” Bart, the security guard said. “I bet there will be a riot if those people don’t get to see the cannonball dude. I think I’ll take tomorrow off, if you don’t mind.”

Life was a strange thing indeed. In one part of the world, people were starving because there wasn’t enough food on the table. Others were watching a game of futbol between Mexico and Brazil. A woman needed a new bumper for her car in Chicago, and a taxi-driver was being paid his fare in Las Vegas by a man with a hooker (and a wife who was in their room at a nearby hotel, quietly sleeping).

And, on a dirt field in Savannah Georgia, on the hood of a car, the cannonball man was dead. Dead because he accidently lit the cannon before it was aimed at the landing pad. The cannonball man was dead because he soared one-hundred fifty feet into the sky, and crashed into a car on the ground.

But wait, life gets even stranger! Because a hundred and fifty-four years earlier, at about the same time in the evening, a man named John Wilkes Booth put a gun to President Lincoln’s head and killed him simply because he blamed the President for the civil war and ending slavery. And then the killer jumped from where he had shot Lincoln, down to the stage below, breaking his leg and started a chase that would eventually lead to his death; sometimes justice was swift. That fateful night would affect his prodigy for decades and centuries to come.

Thomas Booth, the owner of the carnival, was the great-great grandchild of the man who had killed Lincoln. With his name forever attached to the infamous killer, but yet proud of his name, Booth had barely eked out a living owning a carnival. And now he had sold five-hundred tickets to a cannonball show with out a human-cannonball. Then, with hope fading as fast as the box office for the latest Tarrentino film, Booth looked down at the chubby, pudgy, roly-poly boy with the two short arms. And as Booth looked at the boy, Booth’s mind superimposed a cannonball over the image of the boy. The boy was the living embodiment of a cannonball. And his short arms enhanced the look as well.

“How old is you, boy?” Booth asked.

Before young Beebo could answer, his aunt Haimi did instead.

“The boy,” Haimi said, “is eighteen. He’s my nephew, and he needs a job.” She said, as she blew smoke out of her mouth in the shape of dollar signs.

Booth got down on both knees.

“Is you really eighteen?” Booth asked Beebo.

“Yes sir,” Beebo said with a lie.

“Has you ever been shot out of a cannon?” Booth asked with a wide grin on his face.

“No sir, I have not.” Beebo replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You’re hired then,” Booth said. “You start tomorrow.”

--
Fluffy landed on the cake and splattered it all over the counter, all over the sink, and the window as well. And as the cat scrambled off the counter, Jeffery could only stare in silent shock at the mess, and the note that had fallen on the floor warning him not to touch the cake. Then the sound of the screen door at the front of the small trailer creaked open then closed. Jeffery knew it wasn’t either of his adoptive parents because they were still at work. It could only have been one person.

“Hey,” Beebo said as he came into the kitchen wearing his blue spandex one-piece body suit, which was far too small for him, and a red wrestling mask over his face. “What happened?” Beebo asked.

“The cat,” young Jeffery replied.

Jeffery and Beebo had become friends when Beebo and Haimi moved into the trailer Jeffery and his parents lived in. Haimi had decided to give her nephew a stable life and took a job at the local swap-meet. Booth had also decided to sell the carnival and take over the swap-meet, which now included the cannonball attraction. Booth also lived with Haimi, which was cool, because it meant that Beebo had an ideal role model to follow, or so that is how Haimi had put it.

Beebo was about to invite Jeffery to the show later on, when suddenly something caught Beebo’s attention; the shoebox. Well, not really the shoebox. Beebo had seen many shoeboxes in his life due the face he out grew his shoes many times in his young life. What really had gotten his attention was the strange looking thing that was slowly lifting out of the box; on its own! With no strings!!!

(CUE the Star Trek music…the TOS theme please)

The mighty Starship Enterprise, with the registry of NCC-1701, and the majestic surroundings of a salt and pepper shaker, a jar of peanut-butter to one side, and a stack of school books to the other, rose out of the shoebox, ready to do what it was built to do; explore strange new worlds.

STAR TREK
SHOEBOX

 

[RobertScorpio]

Author's note..
the character of Beebo is dedicated to a good friend of mine who passed away a few years ago from complications of Diabetes. Some of his character attributes, and events in his life, are taken from some of the crazy stories he told me while we served in the military together. I am in no way trying to offend anyone with how his character is being depicted.

Rob

 

[RobertScorpio]

When there is rain, when there is sunlight, then from that delicate combination there can be a rainbow. The rainbow can stretch up into the sky, or, it can arc up and down, creating what appears to be a multiple colored bridge, with a fabled pot a gold where each leg of the rainbow sprang from the ground.

(cue the famed Judy Garland version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow…to hell with that, cue the version by Israel Kamakawiwo, of Hawaii; this is the 21 first century!)

Now, what about the Enterprise? It must have been a rainbow’s image of what heaven, should be. Because it was a rainbow that never faded when the rain and sun were no longer together; because it a bridge made of multiple colors of living beings. Whites, blacks, browns, and even green colors, spilled over the bridge, creating a never-ending mosaic of life.

And then, when you added the uniforms the bridge crew was wearing, well, then, you created a rainbow of color unmatched by the cosmos. Kirk was wearing his customary gold colored alternate uniform top. Uhura was in red, Spock was in blue, as was McCoy, and, well with all those blinking lights on the various control panels you had a very colorful place, a place called the bridge. A bridge made up of virtual rainbow coalition of life, and colors.

And as the mighty ship rose out from the depths of its unknown birthing, a shoebox in fact, the entire bridge crew kept their eyes on the main viewing screen so as to spy a look a the unknown force that was keeping them at bay. And what a strange force it was indeed.

A large round creature, with blue skin, and a red face, stared back at them.

“Mister Spooock, how large is that creature?” Chekov asked.

Spock arched an eyebrow at seeing the strange beings.

“I would approximate the creatures size at nearly four thousand meters.” Spock said.

“Four,” Kirk said at hearing the large number, “thousand meters? Are you… sure… Spock?”

“As I noted, Captain, it was only an approximation.” Spock replied.

--
Jeffery had retreated into the small living room of the trailer, in search of the yard stick kept behind the front door, leaving Beebo all alone in his cannonball boy outfit, to face down the strange looking flying device. Beebo had never seen Star Trek, which was quite amazing upon it self, but he just never had the chance. Jeffery returned to the kitchen.

“Did you find your yard stick?” Beebo asked.

“No,” Jeffery said, “but I did find a can of liquid string.”

“Oh cool,” Beebo said, “isn’t that the can I brought over to your birthday party last month?”

“Yep,” Jeffery said, as he eyed the Enterprise, which was in a stationary position over the shoebox it had risen from.

Beebo looked back at the ship, as it just hovered there before them.

Suddenly, boths boy were taken aback when they hard a voice; and it came from the Starship Enterprise, which both Jeffery and Beebo has assumed was just a toy.
--

“I am, Captain James….T….Kirk.” Kirk said as he sat in his command chair and stared at the view screen as it displayed the masked creature, and what appeared to be a little boy holding a can, standing before the ship. But to be sure, both of the boys were nearly three-thousand meters tall. “We…come…in…peace.” Kirk stood up from his command chair, and slowly approached the screen. “We hope that….YOU….are like... minded. I repeat that…. we… come,” and then Kirk held his arms apart, but in front of him, “in peace.”

McCoy, who stood next to Spock, spoke to the Vulcan.

“Spock, are you sure they are nearly four-thousand meters tall?” McCoy asked. “Isn’t it more possible that we have been reduced in size?”

“All things are possible,” Spock said.

Kirk turned to face Uhura, to see if she was receiving a response from Kirk’s monolog.

“I have all frequencies opened,” Uhura told the Captain, “and the outside audio channels as well.”

--
“Did you hear that?” Beebo asked. “That thing is talking to us. Spray it with the can: hurry!”

--
It was a known constant in the universe that revenge was a dish best served cold. And Fluffy was cold, having landed on the cake, and after running off from having landing on the cake, and having its ball zapped, and then after that, the cat slid in a puddle of water outside the trailer. But Fluffy had returned, via the open window in the other room, and he was curious to investigate the origin of the pain that was still pulsating from its lower regions.

Fluffly had, in a most stealth manner, returned to the kitchen, and saw the strange device now hovering not far above the table. And being that cats act on instinct, Fluffy sprang into action! It darted towards the table, first jumping to the chair, and then the table.

Jeffery saw the cat making its move, knowing what Fluffy intended, to attack the toy, and then aimed the can of liquid string at the cat and fired, just as the cat leaped through the air, startling the cat just as it jumped, causing the cat to change its course at the last moment.

Fluffy was a cat, and cats were supposed to be lucky. Fluffy’s luck had already landed him on the chocolate cake once, and now, it was going to land him on the cake again. Fluffy hit the cake, and once again, scrambled away. Fluffy, who was really a cat the entire trailer park owned, would never return to this trailer; ever again.

With that cat gone, Jeffery turned his attention back to the Starship Enterprise. He had to remind himself that it was just a Christmas present from his parents. It was obviously one of those remote controlled toys; but where was the remote control? And, just seconds ago, the ship had spoken to both Jeffery and Beebo. Jeffery set the can of liquid string down, and then both he and Beebo walked over to the Enterprise, that was now at eye level, minus strings.

“Um,” Jeffery said to saucer section, ready to reply to the mysterious voice of the ship, “my name is Jeffery.”

--
next time; First Contact!


Robert Scorpio Presents

 

[kes7]

The picture totally made that chapter.

 

[RobertScorpio]

Most people would like to think, when confronted by events that defied plausibility, that as humans we would use our so called higher intelligence and find studious ways to deal with such events. However, our history suggested another path would be taken.

Take for example when Miss Jennings came into her high-school classroom and found two of her students engaged in the primal action of sexual intercourse. Nothing had ever prepared her for this, nothing at all. It was something that just wasn’t expected to happen. And, with her humanity on her sleeve, she just quietly closed the door and let the two youngsters alone.

When the girl, Pamela Horton, gave birth to a very giggly baby nine-months later, and was forced to leave school so as to work at the local 7-11 store to help make money to feed the baby, Miss Jennings found her self wondering if she had done the right thing.

Then there was the case of Duncan Gore. He was an African-American man who lived a normal life in the small town of Brewton Alabama. He worked at the local Nissan dealership, and was sound asleep in his bed. Then, around 2am, he heard a strange sound, grabbed his gun, and went outside to find a burning cross in his front lawn, and two giggling white teenager boys holding matches; he was holding a gun.

One might think he would have taken that gun and shot those two boys, who were now pleading with both sets of their eyes, for Duncan to spare them. Duncan came real close to killing those two young men on that fateful night. Instead, he called the police and when the officers of the law came to his house, and saw him holding a gun at the two white boys, and saw the burning cross, they knew why they had been called and arrested the two trouble makers. In exchange for saving their lives, Duncan and the two boys, the following day, took a walk down to the local church, black church, and Duncan made the two boys listen to stories of some older black folk who had the misfortune of living in pre-1960s America. Duncan, and the two young teenagers, became friends. And upon their graduating from high-school, the three of them opened a candy store at the local mall and went on to make large amounts of money.

Jeffery’s life had changed the moment his father had killed him self. His mother was never known to deal with a full deck of cards in her mind, something that even a young Jeffery knew. Beebo’s life had changed when a man had died on his sister’s car, and he was enlisted to join the carnival as cannonball boy. Fluffy’s the cat would never again enter Jeffery’s home, having had three bad memories is such a short amount of time imprinted in its mind.

And now, after all that his life had brought him through, Jeffery, with his good friend Beebo by his side, Jeffery found himself talking with a toy. But it was more than a toy, as he and Beebo would soon find out. For inside the toy was living breathing humans and one of them was named James T Kirk.

“Umm,” Jeffery said to the toy, “are you talking to me or is this a recording?”

James Kirk, standing beside Sulu’s helm control, had a look of befuddlement on his face as the boy leaned closer and stared at the Enterprise. The boys face was now so large, it was all the view-screen could see.

“Yes,” Kirk replied to the boy’s question, “I am talking with you. And,” Kirk added with a whimsical smile, “you might…find this hard to believe. But,” Kirk said with a pause, “on board this ship, there are…living…breathing…people.”

“Bullshit,” Beebo, who had taken off his red wrestling mask, said to the talk ship. “Dude,” Beebo said to Jeffery, “I can’t hang around for this. So are you coming to the carnival with me or not?”

The crew of the bridge could hear the conversation between the two boys.

“What is your…name?” Kirk asked.

Jeffery looked at the ship.

“My name is Jeffery, and my friend is Beebo the cannonball boy.” Jeffery replied. “He works at the local swap-meet/carnival. Do you want to come with us?” Jeffery asked.

Kirk looked to Spock.

“What, about it Spock; can I go?” Kirk asked his first officer.

“Jim,” McCoy said, “you can’t be serious.

“Bones,” Kirk said as he reached out and put his hands on McCoy’s shoulders, “It will buy the Enterprise time. While the two of us are gone, Spock and Scotty can find away to get us out of here. And,” Kirk said as he looked at the two boys on the screen, “maybe…you…and..I can find out…exactly…where….we,” Kirk paused for affect, “are.”

“Then I’m coming,” McCoy said, in a tone that signaled there would be no rebuttal.

“Alright,” Kirk said, “you can come.”

Spock came down to where Kirk stood.

“Captain,” Spock said to Kirk, “I would suggest you use one of the shuttles, and refrain from leaving its compounds. We don’t know what the atmosphere would do to you or Dr. McCoy.”

“Very well,” Kirk said.

--
Moments later the two young boys, Jeffery and Beebo, watched as an even smaller toy came out of the back of the larger one. It flew past the Enterprise, and then Jeffery held out his hand, and the shuttle landed on it. Kirk opened the main viewing window and then the two giant boys got closer and looked in.

“Um,” Beebo said as his jaw dropped, “holy shit.”

--next time
Kirk and McCoy go to the swap-meet/carnival and eat a giant piece of popcorn!!!!

Where did the Enterprise come from? What power has brought a fictional crew from a legendary TV show to life?

Robert Scorpio Presents

 

[RobertScorpio]

It was an ordinary day. Just one of those days where the sun was shining, and people were happy, and smiling. As Jeffery and Beebo made their way down the streets of Savannah, and towards Avon Park, both boys had a corn-dog in one hand, and a bottle of soda pop in the others. Jeffery was dressed in blue-jeans and an Atlanta Falcon t-shirt, and Beebo was in his cannonball boy outfit; which consisted of a very tight spandex one piece blue suit, and a red wrestling mask. As it turned out, no one on the crowded sidewalks paid any attention to the small, fingernail sized shuttlecraft that hovered just slightly above Jeffery’s left shoulder. Why would they? In a day and age where everyone had cellphones, or Ipods, or even other hand held devices, no one really paid attention to anything that happened right before their eyes.

Case in point, a woman named Sherry Phillips. One day she was at the zoo, in one of those sky-cabs that rode above the zoo exhibits, chatting away on her cellphone, texting at times, not paying attention to the fact that she was right over the lion exhibit, which, of course, had no ceiling. And when Sherry’s boyfriend told her that the night before he had bought the winning ticket to the lottery, and had won nearly fifty-million dollars, Sherry stood up in overwhelming delight, and fell over the side of the sky-cab. Luckily, for her, she ended up in the pool that was at the center of the lion exhibit. Unlucky for her, the lions were not on leashes, and were sick and tired of dead raw meat. Her gory end was filmed by fifty other people who had cellphones, and her death was broadcasted across the internet for all to see.

So, on a crowded sidewalk in Savannah Georgia, with most people busy at either talking or texting with their phones; a fingernail sized shuttlecraft could hardly compete. Little did anyone know, or even care, that two men, the sized of pimples, were inside that small ship flying over Jeffery’s shoulder.

Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk, who sat inside the shuttlecraft, watched in sheer wonder at what the world outside the shuttle. All colors of humanity, big and small, were walking streets. McCoy saw people eating processed food from plastic bags, and he saw others eating gigantic hot-dogs, and he even saw a kid eating two candy bars at the same time. The result of such diets led to a large amount of obese people, who were all candidates for strokes, diabetes, and even heart attacks. McCoy shook his head in disbelief at what he saw. Didn’t these people understand the harm they were doing to themselves? McCoy bet they did; they just didn’t care.

Kirk picked up on the bad vibes coming from McCoy.

“Bones,” Kirk said, “what’s the matter?”

“These people,” McCoy said motioning out at the mass of humanity on display, “they’re eating like there is no tomorrow. Look at that one,” McCoy said pointing to a large woman who had super-large, triple-decker, hamburger that she was trying to stuff into her large mouth. “Is that a human, or a hippopotamus?”

“Now, now, Bones,” Kirk teased, “she looks happy to me.”

“Happy, she looks happy?” McCoy said. “She’s too big. Well,” McCoy said, “when they pass the caloric-allowance laws of the late 2200s, her kind will fade away.”

“I don’t know,” Kirk said with a knowing smile as he looked at a woman in a bikini-top and a tight pair of shorts, as she approached. “I could learn to love it here.”

“I bet,” McCoy said, at seeing what Kirk was looking at. “Remember though, Jim, you’re about the size of a pencil lead. I think in this case, size will definitely matter.”

Jeffery and Beebo stopped at a bus-stop, looked a map and times the busses were running, then, moments later, boarded a bus for the rest of the trip to Avon Park, which was were the swap-meet/carnival was held each Saturday and Sunday.. Each gave the required change amount, and then they sat together towards the back of the bus, which was very crowded. Kirk parked the shuttle on Jeffery’s shoulder to conserve energy. Beebo leaned in and looked at the shuttlecraft, and waved at Kirk and McCoy.

“Stop waving,” Jeffery insisted, “you look silly.”

“Look at what I’m wearing,” Beebo said, motioning to his outfit, “I think I passed the silly level a long time ago.”

A little black girl came over to where Beebo and Jeffery were sitting. She was smiling at Beebo.

“Is you the cannonball boy?” She asked in little-person talk.

“Yes,” Beebo said with a smile.

“Can you take off your mask,” she asked, “so we can see your face?”

Beebo shook his head.

“No, I can’t,” Beebo said. “I’m like Batman; I can’t show my face in public.”

“Is it because you is ugly?” she said with a wide smile that showed she was missing her two front teeth.

“Yeah,” Jeffery answered, “he is ugly.”

The girl frowned and headed back to where her mother sat on the other side of the row of seats.

“I’m not ugly,” Beebo said to Jeffery. “I’m just eccentric.”

“What does that mean?” Jeffery asked.

“I don’t know,” Beebo said, “but that’s what Haimi calls Barak Obama when people make fun of his big ears.”

Suddenly, and without warning, the window directly behind the two boys was opened, after the bus-driver pressed a button. The resulting gust of wind blew the shuttlecraft out the window!

Now, most people might have noticed that a shuttlecraft had been blown out the window, but Jeffery didn’t. Because at the moment the window opened, Jeffery notices that Amber Wallace was sitting two seats in front of where he and Beebo sat. Amber was in Jeffery’s seventh-grade science class, and he liked her. He had once caught her four bull-frogs to show her how much he liked her; but to no avail. And as the shuttlecraft was sucked out the window, Jeffery couldn’t have cared even less. Amber was there; and he she was going to the swap-meet too.

Continued….

STAR TREK
SHOEBOX

 

[RobertScorpio]

What is the first thing a person thinks about when being sucked out a window, or is Susie Galloway’s case, when having a tiny, fingernail sized shuttlecraft landing inside of your blouse, in between the valley between each of your breasts? Well, strangely enough, both events were experienced during a small, but important, frame of time.

For Captain Kirk, and Doctor McCoy, it was sheer terror. The shuttlecraft was comfortably sitting on Jeffery’s shoulder when, suddenly, the window opened, and the fingernail sized shuttle, which Kirk and McCoy were inside of, was sucked out of the bus. The shuttle was tossing and turning, and luckily both McCoy and Kirk had worn their seat restraints.

Kirk was able to get control of the shuttle, but not before the winds of chance had blown the ship down a dark cave, which turned out to be, the opening of woman’s blouse. Kirk was able to land the shuttle, and it was Dr. McCoy who, in his usual deadpan manner, recognized the strange object in the distance.

“Is that a nipple?” McCoy asked, pointing at what was, indeed, a large nipple in the distance.

The woman’s blouse, although it covered her breasts, didn’t cling to them that well. And, so, as it was, there was indeed not on large nipple, but two large nipples, that rose from the valley from where the shuttle was parked.

“Why Bones,” Kirk said with a smile as he observed the two nipples, “I think those classes you took about the female anatomy are paying off..”

“Well,” McCoy said, “what are we going to do? Just sit here?”

Kirk was looking at the two nipples, slowly pivoting his head to do so, and then looked at McCoy.

“You have a problem with this?” Kirk asked, sarcastically.

“Well, no I,” McCoy admitted, “but how are we going to get back to the Enterprise, let alone, back to Jeffery, it we’re stuck here between, umm, those?”

Kirk sat back down in his seat, and looked at the panels.

“The shuttle needs to go through a routine systems check that will take,” Kirk thought for a moment, “about thirty minutes.”

“Isn’t that convenient,” McCoy said, stating the obvious.

Kirk pressed the communication’s switches.

“Kirk to Enterprise,” Kirk said, “Kirk to Enterprise, Enterprise, can you hear me?”

There was no reply. But as fate would have it, even though there was no reply to Kirk’s message, there were other ears listening. And they belonged to Technical Sergeant Michael Donovan.

The United States military complex stretched across the globe, into space. There were so many top secret programs, and cover-ups, the weight of the establishment was incalculable. And Sergeant Donovan was just a cog in that massive wheel.

His job was simple. He sat in a small office located deep inside of the Rocky Mountains. It was NORAD, the super-base of all super bases. It was from here that America’s assets were protected, and of course, watched upon. And Sergeant Donovan did just that; well, actually instead of watching, he listened. He listened on an experimental radio device that supposedly was zeroed in on so called subspace communications. The radio device was built with American, Russian and Mattel scientists; and it worked, well, supposedly. It had never detected so much as a peep in the two years it had been operational; until now.

“Kirk to Enterprise,” Kirk said, “Kirk to Enterprise, Enterprise, can you hear me?”

When the broadcast came over Sergeant Donovan’s computer, he was busy looking at pornography. Three naked women were dancing, together, atop a pool table. Startled, he shrunk the screen with the porn, brought back up the tactical display of the radio device, which software ran from Sergeant’s computer.

Now, Sergeant Donovan wasn’t a geek, but he had watched his fare share of Star Trek. And instantly he recognized the voice as belonging to the legendary and iconic voice, of William Shatner.

Sergeant Donovan could do one of two things. He could report to his supervisor about hearing James T Kirk come across the subspace radio system; or he could just keep his mouth closed and keep his cushy job. He decided to keep his mouth shut, and investigate that matter on his own.

And that he would do. His friend happened to work at the base Sato Travel organization. With a simple care, Sergeant Donovan was able to procure to airplane tickets, one for his wife, and one for him, to Savannah Georgia, which happened to be where the signal was triangulated to. He would also bring the portable tracker, and if someone were to broadcast again, Captain Kirk or not, Sergeant Michael Donovan would find out who they were and THEN tell his superiors.

But Sergeant Michael Donovan wasn’t the only one who had a subspace communications platform to work with. So did another man in the military, but his post was in Moscow Russia. And soon, he too, would be on his way to investigate the mysterious use of subspace airwaves that were, in theory, only used by hypothetical aliens.

Continued…

STAR TREK
SHOEBOX

 

[kes7]

This story keeps being funny.

 

[RobertScorpio]

TV knobs came in all shapes and sizes. And it was no small fete that such a simple push of one the plastic do-hickies could open up whole new worlds. Worlds on TV that were, in most cases, colored filled worlds on the square, or the more modern wide-screen, shape of the TV screen. Why, all one had to do was press the knob, or button, and stand back to behold the miracle of moving images. A person could watch and learn to how make a cake, or turn the channel to watch an animated coyote fall to his apparent death several times in one six minute cartoon, and laugh as he did so. It was funny, and that was the miracle of TV. From humor, to drama, and as fate would have it, since mankind’s only true meaning to exist is to make things easier on, mankind, it also shaped invention.

No longer was the viewing public tethered to the TV on and off button. Now the viewing public had remote controls. Why burn the five calories it would take to walk over to the TV, an arduous task with so many obstacles such as toys and food wrappers in the way, when all anyone really had to do was press the button on a remote control. There were even smart TVs that were wired to the internet. The owner of such a TV could turn on the TV from their job, miles upon miles away. Why would someone need to turn on a TV from such a distance? Did it really matter why? In fact, a recent commercial showed an actual crewmember on the International Space Station accessing the internet and turning on his TV, at home in Moscow Russia, with just a few commands from the computer, multi-billion dollar computer, at his work station in outer space. Such was the modern evolution of TV.

For many millions of viewers, Star Trek was not only a television program; it was also a way of life. The loyalty of these fans, like most things involving humans, varied at different levels. Some just watched the hundreds of hours of TV episodes, over six hundred hours existed, and the myriad of movies that were spawned from the TV show. Others took it a step higher by buying, and assembling, plastic models representing the various spaceships that were shown buzzing about a given episode or movie. Then there were those who went to jury duty, or drove their cars in STAR TREK uniforms, or actually believed they were from the twenty-third or twenty-fourth centuries, and had, somehow, time traveled back into a parallel universe where Star Trek was just a TV show; of course that world was called reality, but to them? Well, these people needed doctors.

Captain James T Kirk was, for some, the most iconic character to come from the fictional universe of Star Trek. Stating such a claim could cause debate among Trek fans, even outright life-and-death battles involving fake plastic Phasers and Klingon bladed Ba’tleths. But, usually these life-and-death battles would result in, at best, smashed egos, or even worse, admission to the fact that Captain Kirk was the most iconic hero to come from the show. Not even a Vulcan would defy such logic. Now; who was the better shuttle pilot, Kirk or Sulu? Of that there was no doubt.

The shuttle had been forced to leave its comfortable position, parked between the ample breasts of a woman, once she began to disrobe for her annual Pap smear test. Kirk wanted to explore this procedure, as did Dr. McCoy, having never done one him self, but Kirk finally decided it was best to leave the woman, and try to find the swap-meet so as to be reunited with Jeffery and his strange cannonball friend Beebo.

As the shuttle flew out the window of the office, Kirk was still having trouble keeping the ship righted. This caused the shuttle to spin at times, and make sharp lurching moves.

“Didn’t you ever learn to fly this thing?” McCoy asked.

“Yes,” Kirk replied, “but….I never thought…I would be flying…it…out the window of a sky scraper.”

Suddenly the shuttle lurched to the left, causing McCoy to vomit his coffee all over the navigation consol.

“Sulu, where are you?” McCoy groaned.

--

Jeffery and Beebo got off of the public bus, and it was right there and then that Jeffery realized that the fingernail sized shuttlecraft was gone.

“Where did it go?” Jeffery asked.

“I don’t know dude,” Beebo said as he put his red wrestling mask on, “but I got to go. I launch in about half an hour. Don’t be late!” Beebo said as he ran off toward the small circus tent.

Jeffery made his way over to the concession stand, where he bumped into Haimi, Beebo’s sister, who was on her way to the concession stand too.

“Hi there Jeffery,” Haimi said, after removing the cigar from her mouth, “I’m glad you made it here today. I think Beebo flies a wee bit further when you’re here. Come on,” she told him, “I have to work over at the hot-dog stand today, so I’ll get you one for free.”

Jeffery looked at his shoulder again, and gave up looking for the shuttle, for the time being, so that he could enjoy an Oscar Meyer wiener.

--

The Enterprise, in this story, had been a gift. It was the lone Christmas gift for Jeffery because his adoptive parents couldn’t really afford much more. In fact, both parents were working on this fine Christmas day which still saw several dozens of people visiting the local swap-meet for good deals on toys, clothes and other items.

But one had to wonder; where did the Enterprise come from? It wasn’t the fabled history that most Star Trek fans could recount about their favorite ship, because that was another Enterprise; a fictional one. Where did the Enterprise, the real Enterprise that sprung from the shoebox come from?

To answer that, one would have to talk about a cow’s anus and the release of methane gas. And that story will have to wait until next time….

STAR TREK
SHOEBOX