What if the Enterprise encountered Noah's Flood on a far planet, and the whole thing were a Gilbert-and-Sullivan musical?
PART ONE HERE.
Captain Crook, Dr McClown, and Mr Spot have met Noah's wife. Noah is missing, and up on the ship Chief Engineer Shoddy has detected a massive rainstorm on its way. Mrs Noah, the typical Jewish mother, decides that Mr Spot looks eligible and ask if he's married.
NOAH’S WIFE: No? Then, have I got a girl for you!
(She turns and calls.)
NOAH’S WIFE: Delilah! Where are you honey? Delilah, come here!
(A luscious young thing, poured into a slinky dress, undulates from behind the Ark. She is blonde, slender, and firmly packed. She speaks with a southern accent so syrupy you could spread it on your cornbread.)
DELILAH: Yes, Mama?
NOAH’S WIFE: C’mere, Delilah.
(Mr Spot turns and catches sight of Delilah. His Adam’s apple starts dancing; his fists clench and unclench; he starts to slobber.)
DELILAH (purrs):
Oohh!
(She sighs and comes closer.
She lifts a finger to trace the
curve of one of Spot’s ears.)
DELILAH: Look
at his ears, Mama! Aren’t they somethin’?
McCLOWN: What’s the matter, Spot? Your human half too
much for you?
NOAH’S WIFE: Young man, meet our Delilah. Delilah, meet – what’s your name, honey?
SPOT: I – uhh
... I’m –
(Music up.)
“I’m Called Mr
Pointy-Ears”
SPOT: I’m called Mr
Pointy-Ears, never-smile Pointy-Ears,
Though I could never say why.
But still I’m just Pointy-Ears, sad-sack old Pointy-Ears,
Green-skinned and pointy-eared I!
I’ve got brains and logic, and feats astrologic,
I play chess and use the Spot pinch;
My heart’s made of granite, but back on my planet,
I’m someone my folks want to lynch!
So, pity poor Pointy-Ears, half-Vulcan Pointy-Ears,
Always so quiet and shy!
I’m only green Pointy-Ears, sad-sack old Pointy-Ears;
Watch Mr Pointy-Ears cry!
(Music ceases. Spot
falls to his knees, sobbing. Delilah
kneels beside him, stroking his hair.)
DELILAH: Oh,
you poor deah!
KROOK: Groans,
can’t you help him?
McCLOWN: I’m a
doctor, not a voice teacher! (He
fumes.) I don’t know, Jim. My guess is that his Vulcanian spawning cycle
is coming on.
KROOK: You
mean ...
McCLOWN: Yup,
it’s the time of the pon farr. One look at her, and he’s Shirley Temple with
ears!
KROOK: Not
again!
SPOT (rising slowly to his feet): No, Captain, I’ll – I’ll be all right. (sniffs) I beg your forgiveness for this
gross display of human emotion.
NOAH’S WIFE: Oh,
such manners! Would you like to stay for
dinner? I’m sure my husband would like
to meet you!
(Meanwhile, McClown takes a few steps, looking around, and
steps into a pile of buffalo bagels.
Trying to scrape off his boot, he asks:)
McCLOWN: Uh, ma’am, may I ask why all of these animals
are hangin’ around in the first place?
NOAH’S WIFE: Well,
Noah doesn’t tell me much; but as I understand it, the price of fur coats is
goin’ through the roof in a few months, if we can corner the market. We just gotta keep ’em dry.
SPOT:
Fascinating.
NOAH’S WIFE:
But my crazy husband goes around talking about voices out of the
sky. (points behind her) We had this thing half-built, and he measures
it. Thirty-nine cubits. So, “Tear it down,” he says. “It’s got to be EXACTLY forty cubits,” he
says. And now the voice is telling him,
we forgot armadillos. So I’m sitting
here waiting for my crazy husband to come back with a set of preserved pairs!
(Krook’s Communicator beeps.
He flips it open.)
KROOK: Krook
here. What’s up?
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Shodd here, Cap’n. Meteorological
readings indicate a low-pressure front in the upper atmosphere, and it’s
headin’ straight for ya.
McCLOWN: What
the hell does that mean?
SPOT: It’s
going to rain.
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Aye, I just said that.
KROOK: Shoddy,
how much time do we have?
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Estimated time before the storm reaches you – twenty minutes. But, Cap’n, we’re havin’ a spot o’ trouble
with the matter-gain relay circuits. If
ye wait for the storm to get much closer, I dinna know if I can pull ye
through! As I said, ye have twenty
minutes at most – an’ not a second more.
McCLOWN:
Twenty minutes! Holy Moses!
NOAH’S WIFE:
Who?
DELILAH: Huh?
McCLOWN: Never
mind.
KROOK: Thanks,
Shoddy. Krook out. (closes Communicator) Well, gentlemen, I’d say ... we have a
problem.
SPOT: Captain,
couldn’t the sensors of the Paralyzed be of some help to this
poor woman?
KROOK: How’s
that?
SPOT: Mr Guru
could try to locate her husband’s life-form readings. Then Mr Shodd can use the Transporter to beam
Mr Noah here.
KROOK: I
see. Good idea.
SPOT:
Naturally.
KROOK (flipping open his Communicator again): Krook to Paralyzed.
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Paralyzed here, Captain.
What is it? We’re standing by to
beam you aboard.
KROOK: Not
yet. We’re not ready. How much time do we have?
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Ye have ten minutes, and not a moment more.
KROOK: Shoddy,
can you use the ship’s sensors to pinpoint an old man for us and beam him to
these coordinates? He should be within,
say, a 50-mile radius.
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Just a minute, Captain. Wait –
we’ve got a readin’ for a 600-year-old man, with two armadillos.
NOAH’S WIFE:
That’s him!
KROOK: Beam
him here, please, Shoddy. We’ll keep in
touch. Krook out.
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Aye, sir. Paralyzed out.
KROOK: He
should be here any minute now.
(Offstage: the
familiar hum, a flash of light, and a hearty “Hi-ho, Silver!” NO:
just the familiar hum and a flash of light. A doddering old man totters around the corner
of the Ark, carrying a scaly bundle under each arm. Each bundle looks suspiciously like a dirty
basketball trailing a licorice stick.)
NOAH’S WIFE:
Noah! You’re here, finally! Where’ve you been? What took you so long? So ... this is an armadillo? Wipe your feet! Want some chicken soup? (to the Paralyzed three) Thanks – come back some other time, will you?
(Noah, his wife, and Delilah enter the Ark. Delilah offers a special wave to Spot.)
KROOK (turning to McClown and Spot): Well, gentlemen, I think our task here is
finished here.
McCLOWN (with a silly grin): I hope we gave them a good sendoff.
KROOK: Let’s
get back to the ship. (flips open his
Communicator) Shoddy! We’re coming home.
SHODDY’S VOICE:
You had us worried, sir. One
minute to the thunderstorm.
SPOT: Captain
– with your permission, I would prefer to remain behind for an hour or
two. This climate would afford an unparalleled
opportunity for the study of atmospheric conditions extant on primitive
planets, and their overall relation to –
SHODDY’S VOICE:
Mr Spot, how long can you tread water?
KROOK: Three
to beam up. Krook out.
(They sprinkle glitter over themselves. Curtain.)
The End
... As you may imagine, the biggest single laugh came with "I'm a doctor, not a voice teacher!"
As far as costuming, we did it on the cheap. We wore black pants rolled up. We bought sort-of-shimmery shirts, and hand-sewed TREK emblems.
As you can see from this photo taken ten minutes ago, I also used a blue magic marker to color the neckline.
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Thanks for visiting this corner of Memory Lane. See you next week for a new article on Supes and the ol' ball and chain.
