Continental 8: Hostile Takeover
Perhaps you are getting tired of me, but that's alright. I
might as well warn you now that by writing this many
parodies that I can then claim this webpage as my own.
Within 60 days fifty% of this page will be my parodies and I
will move and make my claim. Resistance is futile, make no
attempts to resist me and my diabolical plan. Please
surrender with honor, or you will die without any. It is
the only logical option.
And guess what, I'm going to change the name of the site to
the UTAH! No more slighlty warped Star Trek happy crap
name. From now on, this is the UTAH page, home of the Star
Trek parody. Its only purpose is to promote Taco Bell and
prove I am the Borg Collective. Consider this a hostile
takeover, buddy boy.
Your only hope is that I get carpal tunnel writing this
parody.
This is a sequel to the parody "Ben's Adventure" in which
Ben was Captain of the Enterprise.
2voc, Vulcan Ambassador to Taco Bell {I am the Borg
Collective}
"Give me tacos or give me death."
Creator of Continental: Matt Troyer pilot12@excite.com
Read and enjoy
On board the Enterprise E
Picard: Sometimes I wonder...
Riker: Wonder what?
Picard: If you would let me finish, you'll find out.
Riker: Oh, sorry.
Picard: I wonder if people have discovered that the
simplelest things in life are the most
important.
Riker: Like?
Picard: Like stopping to look in the toilet at your
reflection.
Riker: Huh??
Picard: It's rather unique, actually. One day I was
just using the bathroom, all happy and
then, BANG, I see my reflection. It was like
it opened up millions of new possibilities.
You can even see the reflection of the
ceiling in it.
Riker: Riker to Crusher...
Picard: Except the cool thing is that my ceiling is a
mirror and I can see the reflection of
the ceiling of the toilet of the ceiling of
the toilet of the ceiling in the toilet. And
the ceiling. And vice versa.
Crusher: Wesley here.
Riker: Not you moron. Go back to your stupid
planet.
Crusher: Ok.
Riker: Riker to Beverly Crusher.
Crusher: Yeah, what do you want?
Riker: The Captain is doing it again.
Crusher: Drat. Kill him.
Worf: Let me do the honors.
Troi: Captain, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! {the Captain
takes off running}
Riker: Rats. Dang it Deanna, you're such a traitor.
I could have had control of the
ship.
You spoil all the fun.
Troi: Oh no, I am SOOOOO sorry.
Data: Come now Counselor, there is no room for
sarcasm. Now get on the nearest
airplane and leave this vessel.
Riker: Don't you mean IN the nearest airplane?
Flying ON an airplane is a completely
different experience than flying IN an
airplane.
Worf: Shouldn't we be fighting the Dominion or
something? Certainly there is more to
do than sit here and discuss toilet
philosphies.
Riker: Please don't remind me of the toilet
philosophy. Thats almost as bad as that
stupid Yam Theory pushed by the "Engineer" of
the U.S.S Continental.
Data: I actually find the theory fascinating,
Commander. The proposal of a vegetable
civil war that caused the losers to exact a
form of revenge on the winners such
as turning into humonoid forms, well, it's
amazing. To think that universal
supplies of yams could be plotting against us
is mind boggling. {check out Scooby Doo
and the Continental too if you want more
info, if you want to subscribe to my monthly
newsletter, email me, I'll try to send you
something every month}
Riker: Data, no.
Troi: Commander, I am sensing something.
Riker: What?
Troi: I'm not sure. I think it's tacos.
RIker: Deanna, you can't sense tacos.
LaForge: Unless...nah.
Riker: Unless what?
Laforge: Nothing, it's nothing.
Riker: Tell me.
Laforge: Unless...the tacos are sentient.
Worf: Sentient? Good gosh.
Troi: Osh kosh by gosh.
Riker: Gosh golly darn gee whiz.
LaForge: Good golly dang diddly dong.
Data: Does anyone hear that singing?
Worf: Now that you mention it, I do.
Troi: I do too, Worf, now we're married!
Worf: Huh, what?
Troi: You said 'I do' and I said 'I do.' So we're
married!
Worf: We are not.
Riker: **** straight you're not! You'll not get
married while I'm on this ship! {a voice in
the background comes out to the beach boys
song "Bermuda Bahamas whatever" I'm not sure
what it's really called}
Voice: Taco, crispito, ooh I want to eato, burrito,
gordito ooh I want to swallow...
Data: It's that voice again.
Riker: Captain to the bridge. We have an intruder.
Picard: Well call intruder alert for Chrissy's sake.
Riker: Oh yeah. {pause} How do I do that again?
Picard: Say intruder...
Riker: Intruder...
picard: Alert...
Riker: Alert. {alarms go off} It worked Captain it
worked Captain it worked!
Picard: Of course it worked. Now tell the helm to
stop flying in circles. My Earl Blue...
Riker: Earl grey...
Picard: Grey tea keeps spilling on the floor.
Riker: Very well. Helm, quit flying in circles
around the planet. Choose another
geometric shape and then plot the course
around the planet.
Wesley: Aye Captain. {a man walks onto the bridge, in a
Starfleet Commanders uniform,
it's Matt Troyer}
Troyer: Hello there gentlemen. I've got a newsflash
for you. This ship is now mine. I
need this to spread the tacos.
Riker: The Enterprise? You want this piece?
Troyer: Not particularly.
Data: Actually, you just said you did.
Troyer: Shut up Data. You're just an android. Right
now I have the Continental. Even with all
it's special doojigs, it's not enough. I
can't fight off the entire Romulan
Taco Shiar with one ship.
Worf: But with two ships you can?
Troyer: Of course. {Picard heroically walks onto the
bridge}
Picard: Under whose authority do you think you can do
this?
Troyer: I am the Vulcan Ambassador to Taco Bell. I
am the Borg Collective. I secretly
run the U.S.S Continental and the Orion
Syndicate. Three out of the four fleet
admirals I have in my pocket. You choose
whose authority I am taking this over
under. And I can't forget my unofficial taco
terrorist group, the OTN {One Taco
Nation}
Picard: Oh, in that case...
Riker: {forcefully} NO! Someone must stand up to
you! You do not control the universe! I
will be that person!
Troyer: Correction. You would be that person.
Continental, lock on to Commander
Riker's postion and beam him to the brig.
{Riker is beamed away}
Picard: Hey Give me my first officer back!
Data: Three Romulan Warbirds decloaking off port
bow.
Picard: Bow ties?
Data: No, port bow.
Picard: Ah yes, of course.
Worf: I recommend we fire.
Picard: Fire? Where? Computer, activate the
emergency fire putter outer systems.
Prepare sequence to abandon ship!
Data: Four Klingon bird of preys decloaking. Seven
more Cardassian ships have arrived. Three Jem
Hadar are now here.
Picard: Blast.
Worf: Very well.
Picard: WORF...NO!!!
Worf: Too late. Klingon ships destroyed.
Picard: Worf, you may very well have started an
interstellar incident.
Worf: Our cellar is not connected with anything.
Data: The Captain said interstellar, not
intercellar, Worf.
Troyer: Um...Excuse me...you're forgetting the real
problem here.
Troi: Which is?
Troyer: Me.
Picard: Blast.
Worf: Very well.
Picard: NO!
Worf: Too bad. Cardassian and Jem Hadar ships have
been destroyed.
Troyer: If you guys are going to ignore me, I'm going
back to my ship and plan my takeover from
there.
Picard: Be my guest.
Troi: {sung} Be...our...guest, be our guest, put
our service to the test...
Picard: Deanna, enough.
Troi: {sung} Little bunny fufu I don't want to see
you, picking up the field mice and
boppin em on the head.
Data: What is the blue stuff oozing out of her
pores?
LaForge: It almost looks like she's sweating the blue
stuff, Captain.
Crusher: I better take her to the doctor. Wait a second, I
am the doctor. I better take her to myself.
Picard: Proceed. I'll be in my ready room.
Worf: What will you be getting ready for Captain?
Picard: I am going to mull over the possibilities
internatural bifractal superimposed
ribbons and their effect on the downfall of
the Vikings.
Worf: I am sorry I asked.
Crusher: Captain, I have just discovered our ship has been
infected with some sort of virus that passed
through our medical security.
Picard: Doctor, tell someone who cares. Let someone
else save the Federation for once.
Crusher: We have all been affected. It causes you to act
intoxicated. I have analyzed the blue
stuff and found it to be high in glucose.
Nee how shen kik jow nok fun goofk tau nye
ma.
Picard: In English please.
Crusher: The blue stuff is Gatorade!
Picard: So what you're saying is that we are sweating
Gatorade, like in those
commercials.
Crusher: That is exactly what I am saying.
Picard: No, you exact words were "Nee how shen kik
jow nok fun goofk tau nye ma."
Anyway, I expect you to find a cure in 36
hours or you shall be demoted.
Crusher: But-
Picard: Enough. Shut up. I don't care. Go away.
Leave me alone. Vamoose.
Worf: Moose, where? I shall kill it!
LaForge: Quick, it's marching up the staircase towards the
bridge!
{door opens and a camel walks in}
Worf: It's a camel! Yes, luckily I am carrying my
camel repellant with me! Be gone
camel!
Picard: NO WORF! THATS MY MOTHER! {Worf sprays camel
and it melts} Son of a-
Data: Captain, please remember the no swearing
around minors' rule.
Picard: Who here is still a minor?
Wesley: I am sir. I am four years old. {holds up five
fingers}
Picard: {ignores Wesley}
brett: baaa.
Picard: What the bell was that? {enter Troyer and
Ben Schlegel}
Troyer: Who just took Taco Bell's name in vain?
Everyone: Picard.
Troyer: Very well Picard. I now remove you as
Captain of the Enterprise. Due to Ben
Schlegel's success as Captain last time, he
is now in his second tenure as
heavyweight champion-I mean Captain of the
Enterprise. {everyone claps}
Schlegel: My first act as Captain, is to change the title of
Captain to Commisioner. You will now refer to me and
Commander Troyer as Commisioner. My next act as
Commisioner is to remove all competition to my
office. Everyone who might rebel against me raise
your hand. {Picard, Data and Ensign
Roadamangerial all raise their hands} Mr Worf,
please take these three to the bridge.
Worf: With pleasure. May I torture them?
Schlegel: Whatever floats your boat.
Troyer: Troyer to Continental. Please beam over
Kamler, Brinkman 1 and Brinkman2. Brooks is now
in charge.
Brinkman1: Hey wait. I don't want to come over there.
I want to be in charge. Talk about
nepotism.
Troyer: First of all, shut it. Second of all, don't
let being Captain again go to your head. Remember,
I'm in charge. Third of all, no offense, you're an idiot.
Nepotism is giving favoritism to your relatives.
Brooks and me are not related. {they all are
beamed over}
Wesley: Um...Commisioner Schlegel, the U.S.S Enterprise E
is hailing us.
Schlegel: Aren't we the U.S.S. Enterprise E?
Wesley: Yes sir.
Schlegel: Then what the bucket are you talking about?
Troyer: Where's that freakin' android when you need
him?
LaForge: It could be possible that with the U.S.S
Enterprise E and the Continental this
close together that the shield static from
their warp engines are creating a
bipolar symbiotic pulsar.
Troyer: I'm the best engineer in Starfleet, and I
don't even know what you're saying.
Maybe we should turn on the Universal
Translator.
Schlegel: Agreed. Computer, activate Universal Translator.
Computer: Translator is already activated.
Troyer: I was afraid of that. It's already in
English.
Schlegel: Now what?
Troyer: I'm just the most powerful man in the
universe. It's your ship, think of
something.
Schelgel: I can't.
Troyer: Please?
Schelgel: No.
Troyer: Shoot.
Unfortunately as I sit here, space does not travel like
time. I could sit here for 600 years and you wouldn't even
know the difference. Yes I am having a mental block, in
case you are wondering. I'm going to get a drink and use
the bathroom. Please hold on while I'm gone. Thanks for
waiting. I might as well try typing because this certainly
is not going where. I'll try to make this parody funny
now.
Worf: Egad....It's A WALRUS!
Okay, sorry about that. Let's try again.
Troi: An egg and sausage are in a frying pan. The
sausage says "It's very hot in here."
The egg says "WOW! A talking sausage!"
Want to hear a clean joke? My uncle is taking a
bath with bubbles. Want to hear a dirty
joke? Bubbles is my uncle's neighbor.
You know how many blond jokes their are? Two, the
rest are true.
That kind of bombed. My bad. I seriously don't have
anything to type. Aha! An idea! Let's really get started
here.
Worf: The Romulans are running away.
Schlegel: Why?
Troyer: Does anyone know what that thundering noise
is?
LaForge: The universe is collapsing!
Schlegel: No, seriously.
LaForge: Yes, seriously.
Schelgel: No, seriously.
LaForge: Yes, seriously.
Schelgel: No, seriously.
LaForge: Yes, seriously.
Schelgel: No, seriously.
LaForge: Yes, seriously.
Schelgel: No, seriously.
LaForge: Yes, seriously.
Schlegel: Can we out run it?
Wesley: What do you think?
Schlegel: Okay. Next Option. Can we destroy it?
Worf: I recommend we fire all weapons.
Schlegel: Will it help?
Worf: Doubtful.
Schlegel: Then why would we fire all weapons?
Worf: It would be cool.
Schlegel: Sheesh, fine. Fire all weapons. Wait! What's
that?
Worf: Too late. It was destroyed.
Wesley: That was Deep Space Nine, Commisioner.
Schlegel: WORF! You just destroyed the only good Star Trek
series!
Worf: Sorry, sir. If it makes you feel better, I
will let you eat my spicy fries.
LaForge: Um...I hate to interrupt...but the universe is
still collapsing.
Schlegel: Son of a gun.
Wesley: Gun of a son.
Schelgel: Shut it. I've got it!
Worf: What, got what?
Troyer: Milk?
Brinkman1: Milk? What are you talking about?
Troyer: Nothing, its too hard for you. Hey, Drew,
have you heard the joke about the ceiling?
Kamler: Nope.
Troyer: It's way over your head. Hey Worf, have you
heard the joke about the floor.
Worf: No, Klingon tradition forbids humor.
Troyer: Um...okay. Hey, Brinkman2. Have you heard
the joke about the floor?
Brinkman2: Nope.
Troyer: I would tell you, but it's beneath me.
Brinkman2: Hahahahahahhahahahahahaha {laughs for five
mintues, then falls over dead}
Troyer: Sheesh. It wasn't that funny.
Kamler: It's not pushing it to say he died laughing.
Troyer: No, I suppose not.
Schelgel: Excuse me, I've discovered a way to save the
universe.
Brinkman1: It must be this ship, huh? Always have to
save the universe.
Schlegel: We'll use the pythagorean theorem.
Troyer: That is a massive word.
Worf: BRILLIANT! But what is it?
Schelgel: Say you have a right triangle. Triangle ABC.
Now comes the hard part. AB squared+AC squared=BC
squared. If AB=3, and BC=5, how much does AC
equal?
Worf: Death.
Schlegel: No.
Worf: Pain.
Schelgel: No.
Brinkman1: Seven?
Troyer: Hey, thats my football number!
Schlegel: No.
Kamler: Uh...seven?
Schlege: No. Someone already said that.
Troyer: Four.
Schlegel: Right. Now do the math. [{3*3}+{4*4}]={5*5}
9+16=25. See, it works.
Kamler: But how did you get four?
Schlegel: Insert a variable for the unknown value.
[{3*3}+{x*x}]={5*5} 9+x squared=25
-9-9 x squared=16.
Now find the square root of this, and you get x=4.
Worf: Ah, clear as mud. But how does this relate
to the collapsing universe?
Schelgel: Look at this diagram. It isn't very good, but
you'll have to ignore that. Remember
to go by it's markings and not the way it looks.
{C is at the point} side AB is congruent
to side AC. With those two sides we know we have
an isoceles triangle. We also know we have
an inscribed triangle. The measure of a circle is
360 degrees. A theorem says that an
inscribed angle is half of the arc it intercepts.
So if angle A =90, then arc BC =180. And so
forth.
Brinkman1: So what does this prove?
Troyer: Are you blind as a bat? It's extremely
obvious, and brilliant! I don't know why I
didn't think of it. I guess you're a geometry
loving freak. Kamler, you understand what we're
doing?
Kamler: You think I'm an idiot?
Brinkman1: I don't understand!
Schlegel: Who cares? The Enterprise will stay on point A.
Mr. Worf, contact the Continental and tell them to go to
point B. Kamler, you will pilot a shuttlecraft to
point C.
{everyone flies to their destination} Is everyone
ready?
Wesley: Aye Commisioner.
Kamler: Yep.
Brooks: Ok.
Troyer: Now on my mark, establish a tractor beam on
the ship to the right of you. We will lock a
tractor beam on the shuttlecraft. Drew, you'll
put one on the Continental. Continental, you'll
put one on us.
Wesley: Aye Commisioner.
Kamler: Yep.
Brooks: Ok.
Troyer: Mark.
Wesley: Aye Commisioner.
Kamler: Yep.
Brooks: Ok.
Worf: The universe is gaining! Hurry!
Troyer: Throw it some tacos. That ought to slow it
down.
Worf: Aye sir. Tacos thrown.
Schlegel: Report the distance of your tractor beams.
Wesley: 3.
Kamler: 3.
Brooks: Unknown.
Troyer: 9+9=x squared.
Schlegel: But we have an isosceles triangle.
Worf: It is not working.
Kamler: {from Continental} Of course! This is a 45
45 90 triangle. If AC=3 and AB=3 then to find BC
you must take it times the square root of two!
Schlegel: How could've I forgotten? We don't even need the
pythagorean theorem!
Troyer: Status of the tacos?
Worf: The universe is slowing.
Brinkman1: Are the tractor beams working?
Worf: The universe is uncollapsing.
Everyone: YESSSSSSSSS! We did it! It worked! Hurray!
No One: NOOOOOOOOO! We didn't! It didn't work!
Hurray!
Troyer: Hey, who said that?
Schlegel: Blast, Worf, intruder alert!
Worf: Aye, Commisioner. {lights start flashing}
Someone: Commisioner Schlegel, Picard, Data and
Roadamangerial have all escaped.
Schelgel: The entire world is collapsing around me! Suicide
is the only way out.
Brinkman1: Yeah, I know the feeling.
Troyer: If either of you committ suicide, I will kill
you. GET A HOLD OF YOURSELVES!!!
Schlegel: Ok. Sorry.
Troyer: Now let me---
PIcard: You can't hold this ship forever, Schelgel.
Schlegel: Schlegel, not Schelgel.
Picard: I don't give a beaver dam. Now return
control of the ship, or I'll kill LaForge.
Schlegel: Fine.
Picard: Rats. Surrender or I'll kill...um let me
think...Data! I'll kill Data!
Schlegel: Go ahead. He's on your side.
Picard: Blast. Surrender or I will release the
rampaging caste system.
Schlegel: What?
Picard: I got you now! Data, release the rampaging
caste system.
Troyer: Well, thank you for the fun, but I hear the
tacos calling me.
Brinkman1: Me too.
Kamler: Um...Ben...I forgot, I left the oven on in my
cabin.
Schlegel: Bye! It was an honor saving the universe with
you!
Troyer: And vice versa. Continental, three to beam
over.
Brooks: Okay.
Kamler: Good luck with the rampaging caste system.
Worf: Just go, will you? {they are beamed off the
bridge}
Picard: TACOS MUST DIE!!!
Schlegel: Worf, go throw him in the warp core.
Worf: Yes Commisioner.
This is the end and I thank you for reading this entire
thing. It may be massive, but I hope it's good massive. It
did not turn out anywhere near the way I envisioned it. Let
me quote myself when I say, "Give me tacos or give me
death."