"The Naked Time, Truth, Gun, Etc."

(Bridge)
Capt. Painway: Captain's log stardate 52421.7, we are traveling through the region of space known as the Hell Hole because of its reputed psychopathic effects on many races who travel through it. We are approximately 58,000 light-years --
Ensign Dim: Captain! We're picking up a life-form on long range scanners!
Painway: What is it?
Dim: I'll put it on visual...
(visual appears - it's a naked man holding an hourglass)
Lt. Pears: There's a naked man floating out here in space?
Cmdr. Quixote: That's what it looks like...
Painway: Hey! I know who that is! That's Cronos, the God of Time!
(enter Severer of Nine)
Severer of Nine: Hey... Cool! Can I cut off his head? Can I cut off his arms? Can I cut off his --
Painway: Don't say that!
Severer: What?
Painway: I knew what you were going to say. This show is rated "PG", remember?
Severer: With "Voyeur" in the title?
Painway: Well, that just means we can use bathroom humor. No sex talk, okay?
Severer: Yes, ma'am.
Pears: That's my line!
Painway: I prefer to be addressed as "Captain." Or I'll cut off your head!
Severer: Can I be the executioner? Please?
Painway: I said your head, stupid!
Severer: Well, can I do it anyway?
Quixote: Folks, can we get back to business, please?
Painway: Oh. Right. What were we talking about?
Quixote: I think it was lopping the heads off those giants with the swinging plasma generators...
Lt. Cmdr. Tupac: I believe what you were ta-ta-talking about, man
 Is the na-na-naked dude on our screen, man
 Correct me if I am mi-mi-mistaken, man
Painway: Okay. What do you think we should do about the naked man, Quixote?
Quixote: I think he's one of those giants! Kill him!
Painway: No, stupid! I guess we'll just have to leave so that our friendly viewers do not have to see any more gratuitous sex and violence. Mr. Pears, set a course for the alpha quadrant.
Pears: (salivates)
Painway: What's wrong?! Ignoring a direct order?! I'll have you killed!
Quixote: Isn't that gratuitous violence?
Painway: Shut up, Quixote! Now what's wrong, Mr. Pears?
Pears: mmm.... a pear...
Painway: I don't see any pear!
Tupac: He might be s-s-suffering from the ps-ps-psychopathic effects of the Hell Hole, dude
 The pear could be a fi-fi-figment of his imagination, dude
 I am 93 percent c-c-certain that what I say is true.
Painway: I don't care! (smacks Pears with her hand)
Pears: Ouch!
Dim: Oh no! He's bleeding! What do we do? Anyone? What do we do?
Quixote: Quixote to the doctor. Medical emergency on the bridge!
Dr. Zipperman (on video screen): I'll send a medical team right up -- ooh! what is this? a zipper! (plays with zipper)
Quixote: No, Dr. Zipperman! Don't!
Dr. Zipperman: (zip) (unzip) (zip) (unzip)
Dim: Oh no! The doctor's obsessed with that zipper again!
Severer: I'll carry Ensign Dim down to sickbay.
Quixote: Okay, but don't cut off any of his limbs!
Severer: Right.
Quixote: By the way, how did you make him bleed by just hitting him?
Painway: Oh, just these spiked brass knuckles... (takes the navigation console) Now I'll fly this ship out of here.

(sickbay)
Medical Assistant: There, Mr. Pears! Your wounds are healed!
Painway: Damn 24th century medical technology! I wanted him to suffer. Oh well, I guess I ought to give you a commendation for your astounding medical work. You're now in the security department. Here's your yellow shirt. Now stick 'em up! (pulls a phaser)
Medical Assistant: Huh? What's going on, Captain?
Painway: Oh, don't you remember, every episode we have to sacrifice a security officer to the God of Violence, Nielsen Ratings, and Bad Drama. That is, one security officer has to get killed every week by some horrible blood-sucking monster. This week the budget's low, so I'm standing in for the monster. (zap)
Medical Assistant: Aaargh! (disappears in a cloud of plasma vapor)
Lt. Borres (on intercom): Captain! The microplasmic defarangulator isn't sending the hyperphasic modulation beams to the infinite improbability generator like it's supposed to!
Painway: Say that again in Federation Standard.
Borres: It means that the warp drive won't work!
Painway: What?!
Borres: It means that the warp drive - Oh, sorry, I took that literally.
Painway: Well, get it fixed!
Borres: I can't! I need a sub-tachyon baroscope, and we jettisoned all of them last month when the zortrium storm fried our nanomagnetic sensors!
Painway: Oh, great! Painway out.

(Severer of Nine's quarters)
Severer: Strange. I hear a voice in my head.
Voice: You are very sexy. I am in love with you. I want to [censored censored censored]
Severer: Who's that?
Voice: It's Ensign Dim. I'm in love with you. Yes, I am. All I want to do is--
Severer: Shut up! Now why am I hearing Ensign Dim's voice in my head?
Voice: you you you I want you you you yes yes yes!!!
Severer: Oh, I know! It's the title of the episode! First we met the naked time, that is, Cronos. This voice in my head is the naked truth. So next we're going to meet a naked gun... I wonder what a naked gun is...
Painway (on intercom): This is the captain speaking. We're going to red alert. We're being attacked by an alien vessel. All hands to battle stations. I repeat, all hands to battle stations.

(bridge)
Painway: So what are you saying about this ship, Mr. Tupac?
Tupac: I say, dude, that this ship ap-ap-appears
 To have no crew, and h-h-here's where things get weird:
 This ship seems to consist en-en-entirely of
 A m-m-massive plasma cannon, aimed right up our nose.
Painway: So you're saying that this ship is nothing more than an automated turret... I guess that's the "naked gun" in the episode title... Oh well, enough thinking, let's have some action. Raise the shields, bring weapons to full power!
Tupac: Aye, dude.
(blammo)
Dim: The ship seems to be shooting at us! Now why would it do that?
Tupac: Shields down to 42 percent, man.
Painway: Fire crouton torpedoes!
(tiny bread cubes fly out of the ship)
Dim: Strange! The crouton torpedoes had no effect on the enemy ship!
(blammo)
Tupac: We've lost shields, dude. Analysis indicates we can only survive 2 more hits.
Painway: Fire all naser banks!
(ah-ah-ah-ah-CHOO! says the USS Voyeur)
Dim: The gunship is retreating! It's covered in snot!
All bridge crew: Yahoo!

(mess hall)
Dim: So, Feelix, what's the dish of the day?
Feelix: Oh, today I've cooked up some fine Trilarian bugbladder stew! Wait, before you take any, I'd better feel it to makes sure it's done. (sticks hands in pot) Yep, it's ready. Here, try some!
Dim: Eeww. No thanks, Feelix. I think I'll pass.
Borres: What's for lunch, Feelix?
Feelix: Steaming hot Trilarian bugbladder stew!
Borres: What's in that stuff? I'd better analyze it with my tricorder before I try any. It might be poisonous! (pulls out tricorder) Hey! There's berilithium zythophosphate in there! I can use that to fix the engines!

(exterior shot of the USS Voyeur flying through space)
Painway: Captain's log, stardate 52426... no wait that was yesterday... stardate 52427.8... Lt. Borres has fixed the warp drive with the dilithium phosphate or whatever it is she found in Feelix's Trilarian bugbladder stew. We are now leaving the Hell Hole, thank God. We are resuming a course for the Alpha Quadrant, which is currently 56,524 light-years away... no, make that 56,523... damn! we're getting closer every moment...