Part 8: PAGE 08

Beverly came to the bridge this afternoon demanding to speak to me, which wouldn’t have been so bad it we weren’t in the middle of a lethal fight with an armada of Bulemian Excretors. As I frantically tried to see past her and look at the viewscreen to make sure we weren’t dying, she insisted I assemble a security detail to investigate the mysterious rash Wesley had gotten from this hideous woollen sweater she’d bought for him on our recent stop at Polyester IX. I can’t even find words to describe the thing’s color. When Geordi caught sight of the thing, he shrieked like a woman and threw his VISOR to the farthest corner of the room. It took Counselor Troi three hours to coax him out of a Jeffries Tube.

Anyway, I tried to explain to Beverly that examining the origins of a rash is pretty much what a doctor does, but the damn woman wasn’t having any of it and kept calling me by my first name to emasculate me in front of the bridge crew. Times like this, I almost regret Dr. Pulaski’s unfortunate transporter “accident.”

Computer, remove that last line from log.

No, wait. Keep it, but remove sinister quotes around “accident”.

Also, remove that prolonged bout of evil cackling.





Doctor Crusher at Antilios - Blip // Viddler // Youtube