STAR SPECK: VOYEUR

                                 PAIR-O-HAGS

                              by Stanley Dunigan


   "All righty, then!" Lieutenant Jim Carrey shouted from his bed in
sickbay. "Let's talk about murrrder!"
   The angry engineering officer's nose was broken and bleeding all over
sickbay, and Holodoc was desperately trying to clean the jerk up while he
thrashed about and shouted curses at Lt. Toreup.
   "Settle down, bub," First Officer Cheekygay told him. "Tell us what
happened in your own words."
   "#$&@& *#d8 ##* @&@ &*^!!" Carrey screamed.
   "All right," Cheeky said. "Tell us what happened in English words."
   "She hit me in the nose!" Carrey shrieked. "What more can you want to
know? I was doing routine maintenance on the warp core conduit thingies
when she stomped up and demanded that I let her take over. When I refused,
she did this!" He gestured at his still-bleeding nose.
   "Will you lie still?" Holodoc demanded, at the end of his holographic
patience. "How am I ever going to use this big, vicious-looking needle
instrument to fix you up if you keep flopping around like that?"
   As the doctor shoved Carrey back onto the bed yet again, Cheeky and
NuSpock left sickbay and walked down the corridor, arguing about what to do
with Toreup.
   "Aw, come on, Nuey," Cheeky pleaded. "Give poor wittle Toreup a break,
huh? She's really a good kid. Matter of fact, that's what this episode is
all about. Let her stay confined to quarters for now, pretty please?"
   "Striking a fellow is a Court Martian offense," NuSpock reminded him.
"Especially for a woman. Aren't you aware of Starbeat regulations on this
subject?"
   "You know I've only recently joined your crew," Cheeky said. "I haven't
had time to review all 42,000 pages of the Starbeat manual yet. Besides,
you're forgetting what a feminist show this is. Why, Toreup is not only not
going to be punished at all for what she's done, she's bound to be promoted
to chief engineer or something! How do you like that?"
   "There are many ancient Bulkan swear words and obscene gestures that
would accurately convey my opinion on that matter," NuSpock said calmly,
"but I always believe it wise to practice restraint."
   "Hooray," Cheeky mumbled, twirling a finger in the air.

   As the Cheeky One strolled down another corridor, he was approached by
two of his former Makeme companions who shall remain nameless.
   "We kind of heard what happened with Toreup and the Starbeat jerk in
engineering," the man said.
   "We just want you to know that we're willing to back you up all the way
if you ever decide to take over this ship," the bun-headed woman said with
a conspiratorial wink.
   "I'll remember that," Cheeky said with a grateful smile. Suddenly, he
noticed Captain Gangway leaning against a nearby bulkhead and glaring at
him.
   "...for my testimony at your Court Martian, you mutinous swine!" he
finished, swinging his arm violently through the air and giving the two
treacherous Makemes a double slap.
   Gangway nodded stiffly at him and moved away.
   Cheeky breathed a nervous sigh of relief. His two former compatriots
slunk off angrily, swearing silently to themselves to continue to breed
strife and divisiveness.

   Toreup was pacing her quarters like a lion (pardon me, lioness) in a
cage when Cheekygay rang her doorbell.
   Toreup roared furiously and threw a small couch at the door, which
opened just in time to allow the flying furniture to pass through and
flatten the unwelcome visitor.
   "See you in sickbay," she laughed sneerily as Cheeky struggled to push
the couch off him and get up.
   "T-that...didn't...<ugh>...hurt," Cheeky gasped macholy as he staggered
inside, leaving the couch in the corridor. "I came to...<wheeze>..."
   "Well, you've done that already, so go!" Toreup snapped at him. "I don't
appreciate being confined to quarters, and am likely to become quite
violent soon."
   "Soon?" Cheeky asked, wide-eyed. After he regained his composure, he
stuttered, "Er, I just came by to say hi. Heh, heh. Hi!" He waved feebly at
Toreup.
   She just stood and glared at him.
   Remembering that he had to act macho and tough in front of his
subordinates, Cheeky frowned and sternly said, "You could have killed that
Carrey wimp if you'd hit him just a little harder. Why didn't you?"
   "Because I have extraordinary self-control," Toreup said, tossing her
head haughtily. "Why, would you rather I had killed him?"
   "Of course not!" Cheeky snapped. "Do you realize the trouble you've
gotten me into? I'm having to stave off that pointy-eared rappin' security
chief who wants to Court Martian you, and the rest of our beady-eyed Makeme
associates who want to take over this ship!"
   "Have a nice day," Toreup said as she shoved him out the door.
   "Don't you want to be chief engineer?" Cheeky demanded angrily.
   "Do you want to be supper?" Toreup snarled at him.
   Cheeky took big steps toward the zoomtube.

   Later on, Captain Gangway convened the senior staff in the briefing room
for a gab session.
   "Yak yak yakkety-yak there's no turning back," she said. "Since there
are no Starplates out here for refueling and resupplying, we're in big
trouble."
   "I'll say!" Lt. Tomboy Pearass piped up. "Engine efficiency is way down,
and the conn controls are sluggish. It's like I'm flying a Broadsword in
Wing Commander II, or something."
   "I'm afraid that's partially my fault," Ensign Harry Kari admitted
sheepishly. "I tried to cross-connect the holodeck's power grid matrix
array dealie into the engines, but it funny-fused, and can't be fixed. The
Wing Commander II holosimulation may indeed be interfering with the engines
and controls."
   "Wonderful," Gangway rasped, her voice sounding like a Kilrathi's (but
that's nothing new). "So how are we going to increase engine efficiency?"
   "We could feed half the crew to Toreup," Cheeky said, "and then shut
down power and life support to their empty quarters. That would give us
more power for the engines."
   "Why don't we just reduce shipwide life support to one-half bare minimum
and order everyone to breathe less?" Tom suggested.
   "But doing that would also make it much colder, and then we'd all get
sore throats and sound just like her," Harry said, pointing at the captain.
   "Enough with the jokes about my voice!" Gangway thundered, slapping the
author upside the head several times. (Ouch!)
   Right after that was settled, Mealymouth and Kiss barged in and
complained about not being invited to the meeting.
   "This is a briefing for the senior staff only," Gangway informed them
coldly.
   "Brrr!" Mealy said, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. "You
forget, Captain, that I am the senior Galaxian on board, and Kiss here is
the senior Ocampy. We're natives of the Deltoid Quadrant (as you so weirdly
call it), and therefore have seniority over all of you. So there!"
   "Oh, all right," Gangway sighed. "I'll let you sit and watch this one
time, but don't you say anything."
   "But we've got such great ideas on how to handle some of your problems,"
Mealy protested. "We're a lot smarter than we look."
   "That's obvious, since you can talk," Gangway said. "Well, okay. What
have you got?"
   Mealy poked Kiss in the back, and she hesitantly said, "I-I just
suggested to Mealybaby that since the replicators are down for the count,
we should hoe one of the lower decks into a garden. That way we can plant
and grow our own food."
   "Those of us who need to, that is," Mealy said with a wide smile.
   "That's right," NuSpock recollected. "You replicated several hundred
pizzas and glasses of water last episode, didn't you?"
   "That might have been what caused the replicator malfunction," Gangway
said, glaring at the offending Meal Maker.
   "I was stocking up on provisions for just such an emergency as this,"
Mealy explained with a nervous smile.
   "I'm afraid I'll have to confiscate all of your `provisions' and
distribute them amongst the ship's personnel," NuSpock said. "Good thing
the microwaves still work."
   "That's not fair!" Mealy spluttered in outrage.
   "Put a sock and a shoe in it," Gangway ordered him. To Kiss, she said,
"How soon can you get started on the garden? We'll give you one of our
unused closets to work in."
   "I'll get right on it," Kiss promised. "I'm already getting hungry."
   "Me too," Mealy moaned. "Hurry up and grow that garden so I can have the
ingredients to make my famous paranoid goulash."
   "Your goulash tastes like ghoul ash," Kiss informed him.
   "It does not!"
   "Does too!"
   "Does not!"
   Cheekygay took advantage of the distraction to hand a contract to the
captain and request that she sign it. She almost did before she thought to
read it over first.
   "Toreup as chief engineer?" she asked incredulously. "Why in the world
would I want that Klingto beast as my chief engineer?"
   "Well, for one thing, she's a woman," Cheeky reminded her. "That counts
for a heck of a lot on this show. Also, she's really a good little girl.
Why, I'll bet old "Clumsy" Carrey fell and bashed his nose against the
floor, and then blamed Toreup just to discredit her!"
   "I'll give it all the consideration it is due," Gangway said, throwing
the contract into a nearby waste basket. "Now let's get on to the next
order of business. It says here that we need a new chief medical officer."
   "What about Holodoc?" Mealy asked, having "settled" his argument with
Kiss (by threatening to reveal her ornate ears as the result of plastic
surgery if she ever insulted his goulash again).
   "He's just a holographic pain," Tom said, "as we will be graphically
reminded in this episode. We need some real medical people."
   "How about you, Mr. Pearass?" Gangway suggested. "You could train with
the holodoc and become a high-paid, successful medical assistant in only
six months."
   "What is this?" Tom snapped. "A vo-tech? I'm your conn officer, and
that's what I'll remain."
   "All right," Gangway said, "we'll do it your way: you're a medical
trainee. I'll expect you to get in at least twenty hours of training
practice each week."
   As Tom revved up his mouth to protest, the ship decided this dumb
sequence had gone on long enough, and shook everybody around a bit in an
attempt to get them interested in something else.
   It worked.
   "Report!" Gangway snapped as she ran onto the bridge, closely followed
by the other conferees.
   "Captain!" Harry screeched as soon as he made it to his ops console.
"There's some huge, swirly thing sucking us in!" He put an image of it on
the main viewscreen.
   "Holy cow!" Gangway gasped. "If I'm not mistaken (and I never am),
that's the great galactic toilet bowl! We're being flushed!"
   "How unsurprising," NuSpock muttered from his console.
   "Look, sir!" Tom said, pointing at a hazy white blur on the screen that
was nearer the hole than they were. "We're not the only ones! There's some
other ship out there, too."
   "Do you recognize it, Mr. Mealymouth?" Gangway asked that alien.
   "No-o," Mealy said slowly, squinting and leaning forward to get a better
look. "But the image you're getting is so hazy and distorted, I can't
really tell. The only thing I know for sure is that it's a real junky-
looking scrap pile. Sheez! They're in big trouble."
   "Open squawking frequencies," Gangway ordered. When NuSpock signaled
that he had done so, she said, "This is Captain Gangway of the Voyeur to
the ugly junkheap near the great galactic toilet. Why are you being
flushed? Are you part of another Star Speck series or something?"
   "What is the great galactic toilet?" Kiss asked Mealy in a whisper.
   "Now pay attention, kiddies," Mealy said to the viewing audience. "I'm
going to teach you something useless today. The great galactic toilet bowl
is one of the many cosmic devices used to flush the debris and refuse of
the galaxy away where it can't hurt anyone or offend delicate sensibilities
anymore. It is said that many other shows that have disappeared
mysteriously from television were in fact flushed down this very same -"
   "There's no response to our hails," NuSpock announced, interrupting
Mealy's lecture. "Perhaps they're mad at us for causing the flusher to
appear and imperil them."
   "We've got to rescue them," Gangway said with determination. "We can't
let them suffer the fate meant for us. Could we pull them out with a
tractor beam?"
   "Forget it, Captain," Harry said. "We couldn't pull them out with a
tractor trailer. There's too much submarine-space interference."
   "We could go to a nearby star system I know of and enlist the aid of the
natives there," Mealy suggested. "They're sympathetic to spindizzy shows.
Usually."
   "Yeah, and they might end up being as bad as that ever-blabberin'
Jabberin' and his Krazon Uglies," Gangway said. "Besides, those poor people
may get flushed before we can get back with aid. We've got to pull them out
now."
   "Cheekygay to Toreup," Cheek-o said to his combadge. "We need help."
   "I've got an idea," Toreup said immediately. "We can twiddle with the
tractor settings so that the beam looks weird and different. That may do
the trick. However, it'll take a while to get it all ready."
   "Get on it," Cheeky ordered.
   "Gangway here," the captain butted in. "Mr. Carrey, I want you to take
charge and keep an eye on that Klingto troublemaker. And remember to duck
the next time she takes a swing at you."
   "Aye, Captain," Carrey said, grinning evilly at Toreup. "With pleasure."
   "Come with me, Commander," Gangway said icily to Cheekygay, leading the
way to her ready room. Once they were inside, she snapped, "You've got a
lot of nerve! I'll promote Toreup to chief engineer in my own good time. I
don't want you trying to rush things."
   "I guess it's the Makeme in me," Cheeky said unapologetically. "It's
real hard getting used to being co-stars on this show after being free and
independent and off-camera for so long as Makemes."
   "I know," Gangway sighed wearily. "That's our big conflict generator for
this series. Since DSM's interpersonal conflict theme was so successful, we
had to have one to compete. However, I'll not let you use that as an excuse
to get away with insubordination."
   "How about smorgasbordination?" Cheeky asked sarcastically.
   "You're trying my patience!" Gangway warned.
   "May I have permission to insult you freely?" Cheeky requested.
   "No way!" Gangway snapped.
   "Well, then, I'll just say that Toreup is a good officer, and you're a
complete idiot for not realizing that," Cheeky said. "Now may I go?"
   "Please do," Gangway said icily. "And I would also appreciate it if you
would explore the advantages of jumping out an open airlock sometime soon."
   Cheeky just rolled his eyes and left the room.

   "Please state the nature of your whiny, petty, insignificant injury,"
Holodoc droned tiredly when Kiss entered sickbay and activated him.
   "Er, I don't really have an injury," Kiss said hesitantly, "but I can go
out and get one for you, if you like."
   Holodoc sighed and rolled his eyes all over his face (much to Kiss'
discomfort). "No, I do not want you to injure yourself on my account. I
simply assumed that you activated me to heal some injury or disease. After
all, I am the great Holodoc, the combined total of 2,000 medical
encyclopedias, 47 M.D.s, 24 witch doctors, and a dozen Medicare forms
filled out in triplicate. Why, I'm the very embodiment of modern pain, and
could out-medicize Drs. McDecoy, Crasher, and Basher all melted into one!"
   "That's very nice," Kiss said appreciatively, "but all I've come for are
a few tasty soil samples to start my garden with."
   Holodoc sighed and stomped over to a nearby shelf which held a dozen or
so dirt-in-a-box containers. He grabbed four of them and angrily tossed
them at Kiss.
   "Now will you please leave?" he snapped.
   "Uh, sure," Kiss said slowly. "But shouldn't you be taller?"
   Holodoc did the eye-rolling thing again. "Next you're going to be
telling me I need more hair. Well, let me tell you, girlie, I'm just simply
perfect the way I am."
   She started to nod, but then gasped. "There you go again!" she said.
"You've now shrunk a full 10 centimeters since I activated you."
   "Ridiculous," Holodoc snapped, striding over to his growth chart on the
wall and standing next to it. He gaped for a minute, and then stuttered,
"T-there, you see? I haven't shrunk 10 centimeters. I've shrunk 10.4
centimeters. Aaagh! Help! Murder! What stupid new gimmick is this? Eek!"
   "C-calm down," Kiss said. "I'm sure it's nothing, really."
   "Nothing?" Docky screeched. "You call this nothing? Sickbay to bridge!"
   "Kari here," the answer came. "What's up, Doc?"
   "Stop making stupid Bugs Bunny jokes and get a repair team down here on
the double!" Holodoc snapped. "I'm melting...melting!"
   "Sorry, shorty, I can't spare the time," Harry said. "Try wearing high
heels. Bridge out."
   "Oh, that's just wonderful," the shrinking being grumbled, throwing
himself down on the floor in a fit.
   After staring at the demented doc for several seconds, Kiss asked,
"What's your name?"
   "Huh?" Doc said, arrested in mid-tantrum. "What?"
   "I asked you what your name is," Kiss said. "Surely there's something
besides `Holodoc' and `Doctor' that I can call you."
   "Why would I need such a human thing as a name?" Holodoc asked
petulantly. "I'm above that sort of silly, childish thing."
   "I want something personal to call you by, even though you're just a
hologram," Kiss said.
   "`Just' a hologram, indeed," Holodoc snorted. "Well, all right. Lemme
see. How about Doctor Who? Yeah, that's me! The new Doctor Who. It
certainly won't be our first ripoff from other SF shows."
   "Um..." Kiss said, not sure.
   "All right, then, Miss Smarty-ears, how about...Doctor Detroit. Oh,
yeah! Ah, ah, oo, oo, Doc-tor De-troit!" He started snapping his fingers
and contorting about wildly.
   "Computer, end holodoc simulation," Kiss sighed as she walked out the
door.

   A few moments later on the bridge, Carrey called up and said the
weirded-up tractor beam was "all righty" to go.
   "All right, then, let's do it," Gangway ordered. Soon afterward, a
sparkly, colorful beam of humming energy shot out from the Voyeur and
snagged the other vessel.
   "Aaah!" Tom shrieked as the ship began to shake. "We're the ones getting
pulled in! Help!"
   "Discontinue the tractor beam!" Gangway snapped at engineering.
   "We can't, sir!" Carrey reported frantically. "Toreup has screwed us all
up down here. I'm gonna have to pull the main power plug to shut this thing
off!"
   "Do it, Mr. Carrey," Gangway ordered grimly, knowing it meant they had
failed. Turning to Cheekygay, she said, "It looks like we'll have to take
Mr. Mealymouth's advice and go for help. You take over while I chew out
Toreup and make fun of Holodoc in my ready room."
   "Aye, Captain," Cheekygay said. "Mr. Pearass, set course for the nearest
star system and take us there now."
   "Aye, sir," Tom replied.
   "Oh, I'm such a good commander," Cheekygay complimented himself,
wondering once again whether he should take his people up on their offer to
capture the ship. He took a good look around the place, which was lying in
various states of disrepair, and decided, "Nah!"

   Soon after Gangway got settled in her ready room, Toreup broke down the
door and stomped angrily in. "Lieutenant B'Eatheadda Toreup reporting as
ordered, Captain!" she snarled ferociously.
   "At ease, Lieutenant," Gangway said, regarding the maddened officer with
some suspicion. "We're all women here. There's no need for all of...that."
   "I respectfully request that you shut the &$* up and tell me why you
called me here," Toreup growled.
   "Well, now, I don't see how I can do both," Gangway politely said,
standing up and coming around to the front side of her desk. "I called you
in here to get to know you better. After all, we Star Speck women have got
to stick together."
   "Yeah, right," Toreup snorted disdainfully.
   Gangway decided to spring the Big Question. "How would you like to be my
new chief engineer?"
   "Huh?" Toreup stuttered, reeling backward in shock.
   "I've been considering you for my new chief of engineering," Gangway
explained. "Commander Cheekygay thinks very highly of you."
   "He should!" Toreup snapped. "After all I've done for him! But what
about you? Do you think I'm the right man...uh, woman for the job?"
   "Yes, if you could keep from killing all of your subordinates."
   "Well, then, forget it!" Toreup yelled, stomping back out.
   "Great," Gangway muttered. "Where am I going to find another woman
qualified to be chief engineer?"
   Before whatever invisible person she was talking to could answer,
Holodoc appeared on her swivelly viewscreen thingy and started complaining.
   "My, you certainly look wide," Gangway observed, staring at the doc's
image on the screen. "Are you really overeating so tremendously, or is this
viewscreen shrinking?"
   "I'm shrinking!" Docky yapped angrily. "I'm shrinking vertically, but
not horizontally. That's why I look so wide. Now will you please order a
repair team to get down here and fix my slide projectors?"
   "Can't yet," Gangway told him with a sympathetic expression, "but I'll
have them get around to it as soon as possible. All righty?"
   "All...righty," Doc said slowly, clearly disappointed. "Also, I thought
I should report the irrelevant little pains that several of the crew have
been experiencing. Do you think they could be at all related to the plot,
or are they just space-fillers?"
   "This whole show is a space-filler," Gangway griped. "However, this pain
thing might be connected somehow to what's happening out there."
   Right on cue, "what's happening out there" shook the ship around again.
   Gangway immediately jumped up and ran to the bridge, not bothering to
take the time to end the communication link to sickbay.
   "Hello? Hello? Hello?" Holodoc asked in confusion. "Huh! She must have
hung up on me. How rude!"
   "Report!" Gangway barked as she shoved Cheekygay out of the captain's
chair and sat down.
   "We've come upon another flushhole!" Harry yelped in alarm. "And it
looks just like the last one. How odd."
   "Not really," Tom groaned, checking his conn panel. "We're right back
where we started."
   "Confirmed," every other station on the bridge chorused, making Gangway
wonder about the redundancy of the various bridge stations.
   "That's silly," Cheeky asserted, jealous that all he could do was stand
around and stare. "How could we have left, but not left? That can't be
right!"
   "I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, "but left is right, at least here."
   "Then let's go right and see what's left," Tom brilliantly suggested.
   "No, let's go left and see if we're right," Cheeky said.
   "Take us directly away from the toilet hole at maximum warp," Gangway
ordered. "Mr. Kari, keep a very close eye on that thing. I don't want it
popping up in our way again."
   "It just did," Harry said with a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Captain."
   "We must have fallen inside the toilet's bowl earlier without realizing
it!" Gangway deduced. "That's why we keep circling around and ending up
where we started. Mr. Cheekygay, inform all the senior staff to have
whatever info they can gather ready in an hour for another briefing."
   "Who will represent engineering?" Cheeky asked in a threatening tone.
   "Mr. Carrey will," Gangway grated back at him through clenched teeth. "I
don't trust that Toreup woman, even though she's a sistuh. But do tell her
to come along, so she and I can work everything out while you men just sit
around and act braindead."
   "Oh, aye, sir," Cheeky said, giving Gangway a mock salute. "I wouldn't
have it any other way."
   "Good," Gangway said. "You take over again while I go to my ready room
and do my own personal analysis of this toilet anomaly."
   "There you go again," Cheeky groaned. "Why do you always try to make it
look like you know everything and can do everything better than anyone
else?"
   "Because I am Wo-man," Gangway asserted haughtily, strutting into her
ready room.
   "Oh, broth-er," Cheeky muttered, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

   Down in engineering, Lt. Carrey strode up to Toreup and sneered at her.
"In spite of my good advice, you have been invited along to the next
briefing. Do try to be brief."
   "Grrrr!" Toreup growled.
   "That's right," Carrey said in the most horribly condescending voice he
could manage. "Embarrass and discredit your slimy self for all time so that
you won't have a chance of becoming chief engineer. That's just fine with
me." He smiled superiorly and strode off.
   "Psssst! Hey," the bun-headed conspiracy woman we met earlier whispered
into Toreup's ear. "We can kill him, if you like, and then cover for each
other."
   "Would you really do that for me?" Toreup asked.
   "Hey, what are women for?" Buns said, slapping Toreup companionably on
the back. "Just give me the word, and it's done."
   "Unh," Toreup grunted, forcing a smile. "Thanks."

   "I can't find a thing wrong with my station," Harry whined to NuSpock as
they wandered aimlessly down a corridor. "What am I going to tell the
Captain?"
   "Why not tell her that you can't find a thing wrong with your station?"
NuSpock suggested intelligently. "After all, truth is stranger than science
fiction."
   "Then why are we doing this show?" Harry demanded. "Why not do a nature
show on PBS instead?"
   NuSpock shrugged. "I am a logical being. I can't be expected to answer
questions whose answer contains no logic. After all, what could I possibly
know of greed and making money and vast merchandising empires?"
   "Say, you know what I heard today?" Harry asked in a gossipy whisper. "I
heard that B'Eatheadda Toreup beat in the head of our ranking engineering
officer, and that she and her Makeme pals are all ready to tear us up and
take over the ship!"
   "I will never cease to be amazed at the capacity of hyperspace between a
human's ears," NuSpock sighed. "Things are a little tense and melodramatic,
I'll admit, but as chief of security aboard this starship, I assure you
that everything is under control."
   "Right," Harry said, collapsing on the floor with sudden painful head
twinges. "Glad to hear it."

   "The irrelevant pains count is up to 27 crewmen now," a very short
Holodoc reported on the briefing room's viewscreen. "And I am down to 27%
of my former height. Will you please get a repair crew down here? Sickbay
out."
   "I've finished my extremely complicated and technical analysis of the
galactic toilet bowl," Gangway proudly announced. "And let me tell you, it
was so utterly complex that only I could have finished it in time."
   "Congratulations, Captain," Cheeky said, trying not to sneer. "And just
what useful information did you discover?"
   "Er, well, I'll tell ya," Gangway stuttered, glancing nervously around
the table. "None. That thing is just totally beyond all human
comprehension."
   "Then it's a good thing I'm part Klingto," Toreup said. "Because I have
an idea."
   "You and your ideas," Carrey grumbled.
   "Hey, it'll work a whole lot better than your dumb idea of shining a
flashlight down the hole to see what's there!" Toreup snapped.
   "What is it, Ms. Toreup?" Gangway asked patiently.
   "Well, Captain, I was thinking about the holodoc's problems, and the
irrelevant pains everyone's been having," Toreup said, "and I've come to
the conclusion that giving the ship a couple of aspirin and having it call
us in the morning will fix all that up just fine."
   "I thought of that," Gangway said defensively. "I just waited to see if
you would, too. All right, let's do it."

   Next morning, Gangway yawned and stretched as she trudged onto the
bridge and settled down in her captain's chair.
   "Report, Ms. Toreup," she said.
   "We're all ready to go," Toreup said from the station behind her. "You
should get a clearer signal from the other vessel now."
   "Let's hear it, Mr. NuSpock," Gangway said.
   "This is Captain Gangway of the Voyeur to the ugly junkheap near the
great galactic toilet," a familiar voice said over the squawkbox. "Why are
you being flushed? Are you part of another Star Speck series or something?"
   "Oh, what are you saying that again for?" Tom griped.
   "I didn't!" Gangway gasped in shock. "That was the message from the
other ship!"
   "Uh, oh!" Toreup said. "I think I'd better get us a closeup of that
other ship right away."
   The viewscreen flickered as Toreup fiddled with the focusing knob. When
it settled down, it showed a view of a most astonishing sight.
   "Wh -?" Gangway gasped.
   "Who -?" Harry stuttered.
   "Aaaack!" Cheeky exclaimed.
   "It can't be!" NuSpock wailed.
   "It's us!" Toreup finally managed.
   "Oh, no! Not another Voyeur!" Tom moaned. "Isn't one torture enough? Oh,
the agony!"
   "Some jerky imitator is tryin' to horn in on our territory!" Cheeky
yelled angrily.
   "Well, at least they'll get flushed before we do," Gangway observed
consolingly.
   "I believe I have an explanation," Toreup announced after a few more
moments of gawking. Everyone rushed madly to the briefing room to hear it.
   "Out with it, woman!" Gangway ordered.
   "It's like this," Toreup said, getting up and pacing around the room.
"Do you remember that episode the Next Degeneration did where Doctor
Crasher got trapped in a warp bubble and couldn't escape, and didn't even
know that she was in it? This is a thinly-disguised ripoff of that. I only
hope we don't need someone on the outside to open a hole for us to escape
through like she did."
   "We can make our own hole!" Gangway shrieked happily, jumping out of her
seat and running around to where Toreup was.
   "Maybe we have already!" Toreup yelled in exultation, moving up so that
she and Gangway totally hogged the camera.
   They continued shouting the answers happily at each other for several
minutes while all the men just sat around and went, "Duh."

   "Rig the main deflector dish to shoot out some weird type of particles
so we can find the hole in the toilet bowl where we crashed through,"
Gangway ordered Harry once they were back on the bridge.
   Gangway and Toreup giggled and jumped up and down excitedly when the
hole was found.
   "You see?" Toreup said happily. "I was right! I'm such a good engineer.
Hint, hint."
   "Sorry, Torey," Tom smirked. "The hole's too small. Better luck next
time."
   "Too small?" Toreup shrieked in dismay. She ran around to all the other
bridge consoles to confirm that. "Confirmed," she moaned dejectedly.
"What'll we do now, Captain?"
   Another two-woman gab session ensued, in which it was decided that
"someone" had to pilot a shuttlecraft out there and fire a deckya beam at
the hole to widen it.
   Tom immediately leaped to his feet. "I'm the best woman...uh, man for
the job!" he proclaimed. "Pick me!"
   "I'm sorry, Tom," Gangway said, patting the boy affectionately on the
head. "You should never send a man out to do a woman's job. Toreup and I
will go. The rest of you stay here and try to look useful."
   "I can see I'm going to have to start cross-dressing if I'm ever going
to be treated with any respect around here," Tom muttered angrily.

   The shuttle crashed into the Voyeur several times as it took off and set
course for the bowl hole. ("&%@ woman drivers!" Cheekygay muttered on the
bridge.)
   "Well, we've got a couple of minutes to kill before we reach the optimum
deckya-beam site," Gangway said. "Perfect time to make up."
   "Sure thing," Toreup said agreeably, getting out her makeup kit and
touching up her head wrinkles.
   "I meant, it's a perfect time for us to make up for our bad start at a
relationship," Gangway clarified. "What do you say?"
   "I am sorry I said whatever it was I said that was wrong," Toreup
recited stiffly and mechanically.
   "Great," Gangway sighed. "That's much better."
   "One minute to hole," Toreup reported.
   "Just enough time to tell you that Professor Chattyman at the academy
put a letter in your permanent file," Gangway said.
   "Yeah, I know!" Toreup growled. "A `B' in temperamental mechanics! I
deserved an `A'. I swear it!"
   "I'm talking about a letter of recommendation he wrote," Gangway
explained. "One in which he recommends that Starbeat Academy be shut down 
and moved to a secret location if you ever try to re-enroll in it."
   "Wonderful!" Toreup sarcasticized. "That just makes my day!"
   "Oh, and that old Martian gardener also put in a note about what he
thought of you," Gangway added.
   "Doesn't he always?" Toreup sneered. "Look! We're here."
   "Energize the deckya beam," Gangway ordered, bracing herself for the
impending shockwaves.
   She wasn't disappointed.
   "Th-th-th-that's enou-ou-ou-ough!" Gangway chattered a few seconds
later, after the hole had widened just enough to give the Voyeur a tough
scrape through. "Tur-ur-urn it o-o-o-off!"
   "Whew!" they both breathed in relief when the shaking stopped.
   "Uh, oh," Toreup said. "Our comm systems are down, and there are two
Voyeurs floating around in front of us which read as identical. Which one
do we land on?"
   "Doesn't matter," Gangway said off-handedly. "Whichever one it is will
be the right one according to the Speckian Last-Minute Exciting Dilemma
Principle. Pick one at random and take us in."
   "But wouldn't that ruin the excitement for our viewers?" Toreup asked in
confusion. "Shouldn't we argue about it for awhile in order to increase the
tension?"
   "Nah, don't bother," Gangway said, taking over the controls and landing
them in the Voyeur of her choice. "You see?" she said triumphantly. "Could
I have dented our fender on any Voyeur other than the real one? I rest my
case."
   "Now do the same for your mouth," Toreup muttered inaudibly.

   Needless to say, the guys on the bridge just waited around twiddling
their thumbs until Gangway and Toreup made it up there from the shuttle
bays.
   "Take us out, Mr. Pearass," Gangway ordered. "Full impulse power."
   "Can't, sir," Tom said, giving her an insolent smile. "Your little
female plan didn't work. The hole is too small again."
   "Aaagghh!" Toreup screamed, taking several large bites out of the
bridge.
   "Not to worry, Mr. Pearass," Gangway said reassuringly. "All that
deckya-beam-in-the-shuttle stuff was just a time-filler. All you have to do
is ram us through that hole at full impulse, and we'll be free. Let's go!"
   "Aye, Captain," Tom said doubtfully.
   "Shields have gone bye-bye!" NuSpock exclaimed as soon as they hit the
small hole.
   "Engines are all screwed up!" Toreup shrieked.
   "Hull stress is going beyond critical and becoming sarcastic!" Harry
wailed in terror.
   "We made it!" Tom exulted a few seconds later. "And there's no damage!
At least, there's no new damage that I can see."
   "I want you to take us into our next episode before we even begin
repairs," Gangway said. "I'm thoroughly sick of being flushed, and don't
want to risk it happening again."
   "Aye, Captain," Tom said, "but don't forget that you, Toreup, and
Cheekygay still have to make a scene in engineering in this episode."
   "That's right, I almost forgot!" Gangway gasped. "Ms. Toreup, you are
hereby officially promoted to the post of chief engineer of this starship.
Mr. Cheekygay, take our lucky contestant down to see her prize and give the
others the bad news."
   "Aye, sir," Cheeky said, escorting the elated Toreup into the zoomtube.

   Awhile later, as Toreup was doing her obligatory friendly-up routine
with Lt. Carrey, Cheeky caught the captain spying on them from an upper
level railing.
   "I see you eventually saw things my way," Cheeky said insinuatingly.
   "No, I saw things Jeri Taylor's way," Gangway said. "She wanted a woman
chief engineer as well as a woman captain, and she got all mad and held her
breath until we gave in and let her have her way."
   "Grief!" Cheeky muttered. "Where will it end? Will she be tossing me
aside in favor of a woman first officer next?"
   "I'm sure you could convince her to let you stay on if you had one of
`those' operations," Gangway said, smiling wickedly at Cheekygay.
   "Er, Captain," Cheeky stuttered, hastily changing the subject. "Would it
be all right if I asked you an off-the-wall question?"
   "I suppose," Gangway said hesitantly. "What is it?"
   "Would you still send me a Christmas card next year if I and my fellow
Makemes mutinied and took over the ship?"
   Before Gangway could decide whether to shoot or hang Cheekygay, Holodoc
called up on her combadge and begged for a repair crew again.
   "I'm sure it can't be all that bad," Gangway told him soothingly.
"Exactly how much have you shrunk?"

   "Haw haw haw haw haw!" Tom Pearass laughed at Holodoc. "You look like
Billy Barty!"
   Tom had come to sickbay to get a small scratch on his finger attended
to, but forgot all about that when he saw the one-foot-tall hologram
standing on a chair.
   "It's not funny!" Holodoc lisped in a silly voice. "Now cut that out!"
   "Haw haw hyuck!" Tom continued, unable to help himself. "Hey, shorty,
trip over any loose hairs lately? Oh, I forgot. There wouldn't be any
around here. Haw haw haw haw!"
   "Now, listen, you big jerk!" Docky snapped.
   "Hey, Runtzilla," Tom guffawed, "how about you and me doing a
ventriloquist act together? You could be the dummy! Haw haw haw haw haw!"
   "I'm warning you!" Holodoc growled. "If you don't cut out the `short'
jokes, I'll...I'll..."
   "You'll what, Artoo-Detoo? Jump up and punch me in the knee? Hee haw ho
har!"
   "Hey, Paul Funyan," Shortydoc jeered, deciding that two could play at
this game. "How's the weather up there? Tee hee hee."
   "That's not funny, Dorf," Tom said, scowling at the midget. "Besides,
how would you like it if I rented you out as a paperweight?"
   "$&#!" Holodoc growled. "Why did those stupid writers have to use this
for a comedy-relief gimmick? It's pathetic!"
   "Hey, laughter is the best medicine," Tom reminded him, showing him his
already-healed finger. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Hey, hockey puck! And I
mean that literally! Haw haw haw haw haw haw!"
   "Oh, my," the doctor groaned. "The things we artificial beings have to
put up with!"

                                   THE END