T'Pol: Know what you two need? A vacation.
Tucker: Know what you need? To shut up.
Archer: Hang on, Trip, she may have a point. Did you have
anywhere particular in mind?
T'Pol: We could go back to that spore planet where Trip tried to
kill me.
Tucker: You said that was a robot of you.
T'Pol: Ah yes, I forgot you knew that. How about Risa? It's a
planet where dumb, dumb Trek episodes happen.
Archer: I like the sound of that.
Forrest: (over the comm) Hi, Jon. Toilet-paper any Vulcan ships
lately?
Archer: How did you find out?
Forrest: Relax, it's a joke. Listen... I have a secret, secret
mission for you.
Archer: Are there secrets involved?
Forrest: Very possibly. I need you to go to the planet Mazar
and pick up an old Vulcan who looks like Angela Lansbury.
Archer: Pick up Jessica V'Letcher... got it. Anything else?
Forrest: Make your engineer stop wearing that Hawaiian shirt.
It's so ugly I can see it from here.
Archer: From my ready room?
Forrest: From Earth.
Sato: I hope this Vulcan bag enjoys my quarters. Grumble.
T'Pol: Something wrong?
Sato: Do you know how much work it's been to clear the
place out? I had to move my books, my clothes, my debris collection, the
lock of hair I keep to remember Marcus Cole by....
T'Pol: Who?
Sato: Guy I met on my inter-universe travels. He was bilingual.
Rowr.
Archer: Do the quarters pass inspection?
T'Pol: Yes, I think she'll be happy here. I wouldn't be,
but maybe Hoshi's smell will be easier on her.
Sato: I heard that.
Archer: Well, as long as she doesn't demand quarters that face
the other way. People like that are such a --
Sato: I'm standing right here!
Mayweather: ....and then you fold the second flap in to the
centre, just like the first....
Archer: AAAAA! Who left Travis in command? Sorry, Your
Highness, it won't happen again.
Important Mazarite: Hey, let him finish! We've almost got paper
airplane technology.
Archer: Maybe later. (Guards, kill Travis.) Anyway, where's
the Vulcan?
Important Mazarite: The one standing next to you, or the
lawbreaking one on a shuttle heading for your ship?
Archer: The first one. Wait, the second. Wait, never mind.
V'Lar: Hi, Captain. I'm V'Lar, but you can call me just
V'L.
Archer: Um... no thanks. So what's with the friendliness?
T'Pol, why didn't you warn me there was a friendly Vulcan?
T'Pol: I didn't know. Excuse me while I glare at her.
V'Lar: I hope the rest of you are this much fun.
Tucker: ...and here's our Chef's specialty. He calls it "stuff
Reed shoots, flambé."
V'Lar: Sounds delicious. Does he do ethnic foods? Andorian,
Mexican, that sort of thing?
Tucker: He hasn't done Mexican since the court order, but we get
antenna stew on occasion.
V'Lar: Mmmmm... meaty.
Archer: T'Pol, stop glaring! Another minute and her hair is
going to catch fire!
V'Lar: Thanks for walking me back to your quarters.
T'Pol: Don't thank me, thank the captain for handcuffing us
together. Would you mind unlocking me now?
V'Lar: I sense... anger.
Archer: I can tell you're upset, T'Pol. Is it my new
haircut?
T'Pol: Yes. Also V'Lar, that humane criminal blatch.
Archer: Hey, she's not so bad. Except the criminal part. And
"humane" doesn't mean "human-like."
T'Pol: On my homeworld, it does.
Archer: I see.
T'Pol: On my homeworld, it is an expletive.
Captain: (over the comm) We'd like V'Lar back, please.
Archer: That's not exactly going to happen, unless you have a
coupon.
Captain: I do! It's in my pocket somewhere... gimme a sec to
find it....
Archer: And while he's distracted, we'll polarize the hull
plating. Right, Reed?
Reed: Pardon? Sorry, I was sending my weekly "What I've Shot"
report to Chef.
Sato: We're hit!
Archer: Target that explosion and fire!
Reed: That would mean firing at ourselves.
Archer: Don't contradict me, mister!
Reed: Woohoo! We've disabled the Mazarite ship.
Archer: Excuse me? We've differently abled the ship.
Get it right. T'Pol, any idea why they came back?
T'Pol: Maybe V'Lar isn't really a Vulcan. You know, like the
original T'Pel.
Archer: You are the most confusing person I know.
V'Lar: No, I can't tell you why they want me. No, I can't give
you a good reason to protect me. No, I can't rub my stomach and pat my
head at the same time. Any more questions?
Archer: Boxers or briefs?
T'Pol: Shut up, Archer. I think it's clear that V'Lar is a
disgusting traitor who should be punished like anything.
V'Lar: As opposed to the other kind of disgusting
traitor.
T'Pol: You shut up too!
Archer: Okay, folks, I've decided on a plan. We're going to
turn the ship around and head back.
T'Pol: A good, good plan, sir.
Archer: Thank you. Archer to Mayweather: set a course for
Earth!
Forrest: You're messing up again, stupid. The Vulcans
will vampirize us for this!
Archer: My every instinct tells me to hand over V'Lar to be
mauled. I'm just going where my heart will take me, Admiral.
Forrest: I suppose I can't argue with that. Just remember that
if you fail --
Archer: -- Starfleet will deny all knowledge of my existence. I
know, I know.
Tucker: I wish we were on Risa right now.
Reed: Me too.
Tucker: Do you suppose that when we get there, we'll end up
wishing we were here?
Reed: Hah! Not likely.
V'Lar: Let's reconcile, T'P.
T'Pol: Don't call me that! As far as I'm concerned, you're just
a humane --
V'Lar: T'Pol! My virgin ears! Look, if I tell you all my
secrets, will you start taking my side?
T'Pol: Do you know the secret of how they put the caramel in the
Caramilk bar?
V'Lar: Yes.
T'Pol: All right, we have a deal.
Porthos: Ruff ruff ruff! Rufffffff rufffffff rufffffff! Ruff
ruff ruff!
Archer: Good boy. Oh, hi T'Pol. I'm teaching Porthos to bark
in Morse code.
T'Pol: I don't think he's enjoying it.
Archer: Don't be silly. So, have you come to talk me out of my
plan?
T'Pol: Yes, and I'd like you to keep in mind how often that
worked with Janeway.
Archer: You're no Seven, honey.
T'Pol: D@mn straight! I'm a nine out of nine any day.
Archer: Okay, Travis, turn the ship around.
Mayweather: Let me get this straight... we're heading for
the Vulcan ship now?
Archer: Vulcans? NEVER! No, no, wait, that is indeed the plan.
Sorry, gut reaction there.
Mayweather: So for the Vulcans now, right?
Archer: Vulcans? NEVER! Wait, that's -- stop doing that!
V'Lar: Time to tell you all my secrets. First of all, they do
it by suction.
Archer: Who do what?
V'Lar: Never mind. Second, I'm not really in disgrace -- I was
conducting a big sting operation.
Archer: I see.
V'Lar: And now I feel guilty, so turn back around and give me
up.
Archer: I see.
V'Lar: Well?
Archer: I see.
T'Pol: Oh... sorry, V'Lar. I hypnotized him to make him agree,
and I don't think he's out of it yet.
Captain: (over the comm) And then I do what with the top
corner?
Archer: Travis! I can't leave you alone out here for three
seconds, can I? Look, Mr. Mazarite Guy, we're now going to show your our
top speed. Also our dust.
Captain: You can't. The speed limit in this sector is Warp 3
for some environmental reason.
Archer: Heh. Next time, come up with a plausible lie.
Tucker: (over the comm) We're gonna lose warp! I cannae hold
'er any longer!
Archer: Okay, new plan: we all act out a convincing scene to
distract the Mazarites.
V'Lar: Oo, oo! Who do I play?
Archer: It really doesn't work that way, V'Lar.
V'Lar: Aw.
Archer: Welcome aboard. It's our custom to immediately play a
full game of Monopoly with all visitors --
Captain: Where are you hiding the Vulcan?
Archer: Okay, you win. She's under the bed.
Captain: Which one?
Archer: Oh, one of them.
Captain: There must be 150 on your ship!
Archer: Yeah, it's one of those.
T'Pol: (Pssst... Captain, the plan isn't to make him so mad he
kills YOU.)
Archer: I see.
Mayweather: (over the comm) The Vulcans are here!
Archer: What? Fire all weap-- wait, wait, never mind.
You Mazarites can get off my ship now.
Captain: Fine. You've won this round. But I shall return!
Archer: Not likely -- I don't see Jeffrey Combs under that
makeup.
Captain's Log: The fight is done and we kind of won, so we sound our
victory cheer....
V'Lar: Farewell, Captain. Thanks for the memories.
Archer: I thought I told Phlox to wipe them.
T'Pol: He's getting negligent lately. By the way, what's
Porthos doing here?
Archer: He's going to say goodbye to V'Lar in Morse code in
Vulcan. Check it out.
Porthos: Ruff rufffffff! Rufffffff ruff! Rufffffff rufffffff
ruff! Ruff! Ruff rufffffff ruff ruff!
V'Lar: Captain! I certainly shall never set foot on this
ship again!
Archer: Whoops. That may have been Vulcan for "humane."
(Enterprise heads off at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END
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