My hour on Deep Space Nine
After experiencing a severe bout of dizziness, I suddenly found myself standing on the Promenade, watching Odo and several deputies escorting two drunken Klingons toward the security office (and despite still being in shock, I registered a few slurred lines of the Klingon anthem). I then quickly regained my composure, resolving to enjoy the experience rather than searching for an explanation.
My first port of call was Quark’s. After saying hello to Morn, I sat down at the bar and ordered a Black Hole. Since I had an empty stomach, the alcohol began to take effect after a few sips, and Morn’s relentless prattle (which was punctuated only by shouts of “Dabbo!” from across the room) became less irritating. When my glass was nearly empty, and my head was swimming, Chief O’Brien came in carrying a toolkit, and after ordering a synthale, sat down at a nearby table. Abandoning my drink, I stumbled over to him, and leaning forward, saw fit to inform him that his wife was an ugly anorexic whinebag. The last thing I remember was the room spinning…
No doubt some of you have also had similar experiences involving bizarre teleportation to the station (albeit much less embarrassing ones), so do share them!
Maybe I should put this another way: if you were on the station for an hour, what would you do? Have some icoberry torte at the replimat? Challenge Kira to a game of springball?
After experiencing a severe bout of dizziness, I suddenly found myself standing on the Promenade, watching Odo and several deputies escorting two drunken Klingons toward the security office (and despite still being in shock, I registered a few slurred lines of the Klingon anthem). I then quickly regained my composure, resolving to enjoy the experience rather than searching for an explanation.
My first port of call was Quark’s. After saying hello to Morn, I sat down at the bar and ordered a Black Hole. Since I had an empty stomach, the alcohol began to take effect after a few sips, and Morn’s relentless prattle (which was punctuated only by shouts of “Dabbo!” from across the room) became less irritating. When my glass was nearly empty, and my head was swimming, Chief O’Brien came in carrying a toolkit, and after ordering a synthale, sat down at a nearby table. Abandoning my drink, I stumbled over to him, and leaning forward, saw fit to inform him that his wife was an ugly anorexic whinebag. The last thing I remember was the room spinning…
No doubt some of you have also had similar experiences involving bizarre teleportation to the station (albeit much less embarrassing ones), so do share them!
Maybe I should put this another way: if you were on the station for an hour, what would you do? Have some icoberry torte at the replimat? Challenge Kira to a game of springball?
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