INT. MANSION/DEN – EVENING
In the large, spacious, finely furnished den of a luxurious mansion located in an unknown location sits MALCOLM MCDOWELL. Seated in a leather upholstered armchair before a crackling fireplace, he drinks a dry martini through a crazy straw while ALANIS MORISSETTE stands over him; dressed in a bright red bikini top and bottom, her lips slathered in dark violet lipstick and her hair styled in a big, curly ‘80s style, she holds Malcolm’s eyes open with a pair of robotic hands while she deposits eye drops with her organic ones.
Without warning, the door behind them is kicked open with a violent CRASH. Spinning around, Alanis’ eyes go wide as CHRISTOPHER LAMBERT – dressed in DayGlo coveralls and sporting a long mullet – storms in, a pair of heavy disruptor rifles held in both hands.
CHRISTOPHER LAMBERT: (grins) Do you want to live forever?
Opening fire, Lambert lays waste to the den and its inhabitants, laughing maniacally.
CUT TO
James Kirk seated in his quarters aboard the Saladin, watching a movie on a flatscreen display.
Suddenly, the door buzzer outside his quarters rings.
KIRK: Come.
The door slides open. Turning toward the open doorway, Kirk finds Gary Mitchell standing there, wearing his red Starfleet uniform and a crap-eating grin upon his face.
MITCHELL: One first officer, reporting as ordered.
KIRK: (shocked) Gary? (ecstatic) Gary! (beat) You’re a sight for sore eyes, you old space dog!
MITCHELL: You’re uglier than ever, Jimmy-Boy!
Mitchell enters the room and the two men greet each other vigorously, happy to see one another for the first time in several months.
MITCHELL: I hear Starfleet’s given you the Enterprise. Good thing you’ve got me to keep you out of trouble.
KIRK: That was just a ruse to lure you here. Actually, they want me to keep an eye on you.
MITCHELL: (claps Kirk on the back) Listen, we’ve got some time before the change-of-command ceremony, right?
KIRK: (checks his chrono) About two-and-a-half hours.
MITCHELL: Good. I’ll buy you a lunch and a drink, to celebrate. How’s that sound?
KIRK: (shrugs) Sounds good to me.
INT. STARBASE 95/BAR
Having made their way to a bar, Kirk and Mitchell now sit at a table next to viewport which looks out onto the barren orb of P1C-0072.
MITCHELL: (looking out at the planet) What a view. (turns to Kirk) Couldn’t they have parked this station over a comelier planet?
Kirk merely shrugs. Mitchell picks up a menu and begins to read it over.
MITCHELL: Ah, this looks good: “Bolian Zombie”.
KIRK: (frowns) Isn’t that stuff at least 130 proof?
MITCHELL: (grins) Thank modern medicine for ocular implants.
Mitchell enters the order into a small keypad set in the centre of the table. Moments later, an Andorian waitress saunters over to their table, a pair of Bolian Zombies balanced on a tray in her hands.
After the drinks are placed on the table and the waitress leaves, Kirk just sits there, looking at the tall glass before him; layers of silver liquor – lightest shades on the top, darkest on the bottom – fill the glass, a straw and some blue fruit protruding from the top.
MITCHELL: (sucks on his straw) Ahh, that’s nice. Give yours a taste, James.
Picking out the bit of fruit and eating it, Kirk picks the glass up and puts the rim to his lips. Before he can take a sip, though, Mitchell takes hold of the captain’s wrist and forces it back down.
MITCHELL: (irate) Use the straw! Breaking the layers is an insult to the bartender!
KIRK: Gary, there is no bartender. The waitress synthesized these drinks for us.
MITCHELL: The principle’s the same. It came in layers, it has to be drunk in layers.
KIRK: Alright, if that will make you happy.
Putting the straw to his lips, Kirk drains the bottom layer of his drink. Before he can even finish swallowing, he’s coughing violently, his eyes flowing hot with tears.
MITCHELL: (drinks two whole layers from his glass) As you know, I only have a taster’s tolerance for booze, but this stuff’s pretty enjoyable. What do you think of it?
Having gained some semblance of control over his coughing fit, Kirk hurriedly punches another order into the keypad.
KIRK: (hoarse) “Enjoyable” doesn’t even begin to describe it!
As the Andorian waitress returns to their table, Kirk is quick to spring up and snatch the tall glass of ice water from her tray, greedily downing the cold liquid in three large swallows.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
Attired in a green dress uniform, S’Pock makes his way to the command chair. Aside from himself, the bridge is entirely empty.
Pushing a button set into one of the armrests, he activates the intercom, opening a transmission to all regions of the starship.
S’POCK: This is Maj. S’Pock. May I have the attention of all crewmembers. (beat) The change-of-command ceremony will take place on the recreation deck in thirty minutes precisely. Dress is formal. Your presence is expected.
With the message given, S’Pock cuts the transmission.