Unnamed Porno Fanfic From Shep, Falkenhorst, and Fanboy

[Darth Fanboy]

I seek to disturb everyone, even my co-authors with this one. Warning, spoilers in the title

UPF CHAPTER 24: The 'Real McCoy' or 'Legend of Fanboy's Taint'

Hey kids, are you ready?

AYE AYE CAPTAIN!

I can't HEAAAAR YOU!

AYE AYE CAPTAIN!

Whooooooooo is unnamed but has infamy?

POR-NO FAN-FIC

Deviant, Crude, and always Obscene

POR-NO FAN-FIC

POR-NO FAN-FIC

POOOOORRRRRNOOOOOO FAN FIIIIIIIICCCCC


The Geriatric Fossil, nicknamed Enterprise Senior by her crew departed Earth's orbit at the blazing speed of 50 kph.

Sulu and chekov manned the controls as they always had, eager for a chance to show the 'youngins' how it should be done. Spock had ordered that the Enterprise depart for the planet Merphon at once, not because it had any relevance to their mission, but that they could arrive in time for the Country Kitchen buffet if they hurried. Even a Constitution-Class ship was capable of superluminal speeds that would have them there in plenty of time to take advantage of the breakfast buffet and the reduced prices. One of the strategies used by the senior crew members of the E-Senior was to arrive at COuntry Kitchen just in time for the $6 breakfast buffet, and merely sip coffee until the dishes were changed for the $9 lunch buffet, thus saving $3 off an already outrageous price for a hot meal.

"Admiral Sulu?" Ensign Newland asked Sulu using his proper title.

"What is it ensign?" He said in that deep asian man voice that made ladies swoon.

"Well if it isn't too much trouble I or one of the other crewmembers would be happy to take over your post sir."

"Now listen ensign, that's the trouble with you young cadets these days, always shirking your duties. I won't back out on my old responsibilities, im used to this chair as much as anyone can be. Tell me, what exactly are you supposed to be doing?"

"Uhhhh, flying the ship sir."

"It's about time you got here dammit, i've been wondering where you've been. Now I can go get a sponge bath!"

Meanwhile, back in sickbay, Spock and Scotty were busy adapting the EMH technology for their own ship. There were a plentiful supply of live-in care nurses, and others who could wipe destitute asses. But it would be critical for this mission that they have a proper doctor.

"Sair, I'll acktivait him if you want, but heez really annoying"

"Perhaps we can change that Mr. Scott, I'm quite sure we can make the EMH more appropriate to our mission. Please activate the EMH."

Scotty cringed as he turned on the power to the holographic doctor.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency." He said in that irritating snippy voice. Starfleet had abandoned the EMH design based on 21st century B-list celebrity Andy Dick due to the sharp increase in theamount of patient suicides, so they resumed the design using B-list celebrity Robert Picardo, rationalizing that since he looked and sounded like a total dork, patients would trust him because dorks are smart.

"Wood yoo lissen to him sair? Heez a fukking stiff!"

"We can change that Mr. Scott, deactiviate all subroutines pertaining to substance abuse regulation."

The doctor's image flickered for a second. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency, or would you like to get high? I have a variety of..."

"Now Mr. Scott, deactivate subroutines pertaining to standard starfleet appearance and vocal mannerisms, replace them with that of a 20th Century Earth 'Flower Child'."

The doctor's image flickered again, his image replaced by that of a hippie wearing a tye dye shirt that had a big Starfleet insignia in the center. "You feeling ok man? I got some 'herbal remedies' for whatever ails you."

"Aye, this be an improofmint Mistair Spock."

"We're not quite finished yet, now increase age appearance to that of an older man, make him look more disheveled and then install this program."

"What is it?"

"A memory program from the original Enterprise. Compounded from years of recorded memories and observations."

Scotty installed the new data Spock had given him into the EMH. The image flickered a final time.

"Well Ahll be damned." Scotty gasped. "McCoy!"

"Hey compadres! Spock dude, Scott dude! Wanna Get High?"

"Eet rahlly ees McCoy! ITs good to see you ahld frend!"

The 'Real McCoy' died many years ago, a victim of his own love of Superluminal space skiing. While he survived every trip intact through warp, a sudden stop ended his career quickly. But he was back, in all of his glory.

"Remember Mr. Scoot, while this is alot like our old friend, it is only a hologram..."

The holographic McCoy walked over to the replicator and immediately produced a small bottle of clear liquid.

"...albeit an extremely accurate hologram."

"Duuuuuude, I'm a hologram? Wooooow, like, I always wondered what it would be like if the whole universe was a hologram man, and like, what if we were like, just some sort of crazy show."

"Your logic remains...eccentric."

"Spock dude, I love you man."

BAck on the bridge. Mr. Chekov was growing impatient with some of his crewmen.

"I vill not tolerate Insu-word-ination! This wessel vill be run with wigilance!"

A small group of redshirts laughed their asses off at Chekovs speech, knowing only from historical documentaries the hilarious intracacies of Chekov's voice. Mr. Scott emerged on the bridge to take the helm.

"Mister Scott, perheps you can show these crewmin, about how a starfleet wessel should be run."

"You talk laik yure a bloody freek Chekov!"

One of the crewmen, an ensign Stuart started to giggle, but was smacked by a visibly wasted Scotty, who had resumed his duties after a few hours with his holographic friend McCoy.

"Sahmboooody, mop up that blood." Scotty's speech was slurred, but that never stopped him before. In fact he recalled no fewer than seven times when he had been sloshed on duty during a critical mission. One one event, when Kirk asked him for 'more power' Scotty actually poured a bottle of scotch into the dilithium chamber, in order to 'thin the mix'. Surprisingly this worked, and even though he was reprimaded for treating the E-nil like a diesel sub, he was given a commendation and became the hero of engineers everywhere, when it suddenly became starfleet policy to have a bottle of booze on hand in every engineering section. (Authors Note: This policy ended with the introduction of the Galaxy-class Starship, when it was discovered that by lining critical components with plastic explosives they could magically acquire the same effect. Not wanting the firewater to taint engineers any longer, it was decided that the risk of explosions and dead crewmembers outweighed it.)

"Mr. Scott, a word if you would?"

"Hoo tha fack are yoo?"

The young officer beamed with pride. "Lieutenant Jean Luc Picard sir!" He had legally cahnged his name to emulate his hero some time ago. "I was wondering if you could..."

"Picahrd? Deedn't he suffair a craynial rectal invairshin joost resintly? Tha poor laddy that was with him, hed shooved so fahr up his arse he wos pracktiklee peekin' out his mouf!"

"There's no relation to the late Captain sir, but if you would, I had a new ship design that might help the Federation defeat opponents with superior technology."

"Thees bettair be gud."

"Well for starters the ship is going to be not much bigger than this one, it's going to have fifteen warp cores, and about a dozen heavy planetary phaser emplacements, Also i'm planning on loading up about 100 genesis torpedos and an omnidirection system to fire them with. Perhaps a few planetary shields and a phasing cloak."

"Laddy? Have yoo been jairking it to a tech manual?"

"Excuse me sir?"

"Well fahr one theeng yoor ship would have to be substantially biggair, then there is the fact that moost of your technologee doesn't exeest anymore, or nvair existed in the fahrst place. Where do you come up with this shit?"

"Well sir while I was a fighter pilot stationed at Starbase 12 I...."

"Starbase 12 doesn't have fightairs."

"Yeah they do."

"Laddy, I may be old but I keep up to date with the Fedairation. Starbase 12 is a research station, they have no military ships like that in port."

"They don't? I mean of course they don't! I was on furlough at the time and..."

"Yoor soundin' loik a bloody village idiot! Soombody lahk this crazy laddy up!"


[Many light years away]


Fanboy, Shep, and Falk were joyriding in Fanboy's ship. Slave To No One, an odd ship that he called a "Firespray" class. Shep wanted one.

"So where did you get this thing?"

"Uhhhh, this place called, stores?"

"Bullshit! Tell me where you got it."

"Some Mandalorian sold it to me, said he was giving up Bounty Hunting and taking classes at a community college. Bob, somethingorother was his name." Fanboy stuttered out the last part.

"I don't know what a Mandalorian is, but you expect me to believe you bought this ship from a guy named Bob?"

"Yup."

"Where's he from."

"Listen, ok? I aint never been to any other galaxies, I aint never travelled through no wormhole, lets just leave it at that."

Shep was confused and irritated by the lack of a coherent response. Falk had his questions though.

"So, Fanboy, why was it again you hate gnomes so much?"

"One of them stabbed me once."

"So? I've been stabbed by lots of people, I don't give a fuck."

"You haven't been stabbed where I was."

"Why? Where did you get stabbed?"

Fanboy stood and dropped his pants, Shep and falk had to turn away from the sight of Fanboy's massive cock, which resembled a baby elephant's trunk.

"What the fuck man!" yelled Shep, "Did that Einhander thing screw your brain up or something?"

"Fuck no, quit looking at my dick," protested Fanboy. "Underneath."

Fanboy used his arms to lift and coil his thing out of the way, and underneath his ballsin that ever so sensitive area separating Mars from Uranus, was a visible scar. Falk nearly threw up, but choked it back down instead.

"You got stabbed in the taint?" Falk asked.

"I got stabbed by a gnome in the fucking taint. You realize how much that hurts? Its my one weak spot."

Shep made his way down to the cabin, where he desperately began doing an internet search of Zeonic porn, anything to purge the horrible sight from his mind.

"So that's why I hate Gnomes, because they stabbed me in the taint."

"Will you stop saying taint?"

"Well what the fuck else am I gonna call it? It's a taint!"

"Just don't talk about it god dammit." Falk cursed.

Meanwhile Shep had torubles of his own, the breakfast of Klingon bloodworms had given him a horrible case of rancid ass. Donning a vacuum suit he sought to escape his own deadly device. The fumes had begun to make his eyes water, and corrode his taste buds before he finally managed to seal himself in the suit, for added measure, he found a small compartment with several items marked "Seismic Charges", which looked a lot like Beer Kegs in appearance, Seismic Charge must have been some weird alien lager.. Shep figured that Fanboy's kegs could sit out of the compartment for a while while he let the place air out.

"Hey, Falk, want to see something cool?"

"Just so long as its not your taint."

"Oh its cooler than that."

Fanboy took the Slave To No One into an asteroid field, spotting the biggest one he could find.

"Okay, I got these things called Seismic Charges. These things got more wallop than a fucking Federation capital ship."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"I'm not shitting you! Check it out, aim it towards that big asteroid right there. Ok, get a good target on it and fire!"

Shep was entirely unprepared for the decompression of his little chamber, and even more unprepared for the force that propelled him into space at great speed.

"Fanboy, your seismic charges look an awful lot like astronauts dude."

"What the fuck? Awwww man."








Shep was eventually recovered, cold, and still kinda farty, but otherwise in good spirits after suffering short term memory loss. END CHAPTER

[darthdavid]

[Darth Fanboy]

Neutral Zone (slang)

To keep ones distance from others while suffering from bad breath,flatulence, B.O., or any similar foul smelling aspect of bodily function. The term is usually used in polite society where expletives are unfit for conversation and also to limit embarassment.

Example: Oh dear I ate too many deviled eggs today, if you'll excuse me I need to establish a neutral zone for a while.

[Darth Fanboy]

Genesis Device (slang, vulgar)

The original Genesis Device was a good idea that went bad. This was adapted into a slang term for the action that occurs when someone farts, but accidentally shits themselves. Hence, a good idea (the fart) that went wrong (muddy undies.) May be used in conjuction with 'Neutral Zone' (see previous entry).

Example: After eating deviled eggs I went to establish a Neutral Zone but accidentally created a Genesis Device.

[dragon]

you guys need some serious help I know a couple of good shrinks. Wait actually no their not as soon as you talk to them they prescribe prozac

[Enforcer Talen]

I just got this horrified expression when he said 'a dozen warp cores'.

awesome, awesome stuff.

[Falkenhorst]

Argh, what manner of blasphemy is this!?!?

Everyone knows that when you shit yer pants when tryin to fart, it's known as a "Shart".

Used in a sentence:

"Dammit I think I just sharted!"

[dragon]

Argh, what manner of blasphemy is this!?!?

Everyone knows that when you shit yer pants when tryin to fart, it's known as a "Shart".

Used in a sentence:

"Dammit I think I just sharted!"

Hum your right
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=sh-art

1. sh-art
when you shit and fart all at the same time
Ken Brooks drank too much and sh-arted in his pants

[Darth Fanboy]

Yes but I can't demand royalties from anyone who writes a story using the word "Shart" now can I?

[Darth Fanboy]

On the Voyager (slang, vulgar)

1. One who takes too long in the bathroom.

Example: Damn, you were On the Voyager for so long I nearly left without you.

2. Someone who is taking a long time to take a dump.

Example: "What are you doing in there?" "I'm On the Voyager!"

[Darth Fanboy]

What do you get when you combine the an oozing orgy of writhing demonic flesh with science fiction? Why a new episode of the UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC!

UPF: Chapter 25
VEGANS OF VEGA, PART I

The Asskicker came out of warp near the colony of Vega IX in response to a distress call from the planets orbital network. Normally these "mercy mission", as Falk called them, were ignored and on no fewer than twelve occaisions had the crew of the Asskicker abandoned hapless crews to whatever fate had befallen them. The 'golden rule' didn't really apply to people who had millions tied up in various black market adult entertainment industries across the Alpha Quadrant. Erotica had to be filmed, it had to be produced, it had to be transported discretely.

Cash however, was tight. Since the Incident at the Gnomish Asteroid the entire black market pornography industry had been under intense scrutiny. The cost of a bribe for customs officials had substantially increased, fewer and fewer crews were bold enough to make shipments, and this led to fewer and fewer customers either willing to purchase the illicit goods or willing to pay the increased prices for said goods. A two hour trill symbiont fuckfest used to run 2 bars of latinum, that same video now was running somewhere between 4-5 bars. For 2 bars you might be able to find some Ferengi amateur lobe fetish tapes but even humans wouldn't buy that stuff, and humans were generally the biggest porn conniseurs in the history of existence.

The colonial administrator of Vega IX had offered a substantial bounty for anyone who could help the colony deal with the abundance of vicious predators that had made it a habit to feed on Vega colonists. It was very tempting, while shep and Falk were millionaires hundreds of times over their accounts had surely been flagged by Federationnumber crunchers, and accessing those accounts would bring their operation unwanted attention. Falk and Shep Industries (or Shep and Falk Industries depending on which of the two you ask) was on the verge of hitting it quite big with their Zeonic lesbian pornography contract. It was not worth risking that chance in order to access some accounts. Then there was the matter of Fanboy, he had been promised a substantial sum for getting the two off of the Gnome Asteroid before that red haired fuckmutant impaled their skulls to his groin. So far they had been able to pay for his services in hookers and LSD, but eventually he was going to want money and right now they hadn't much. Fortunately Vega IX was a bunch of rich overindulged colonists who would pay happily for their pest control.

The three set off with a variety of heavy weapons loaded in the back of Fanboy's ship, the Menace To Yo Mama, and set off for the colony spaceport. "Goddamn," Fanboy said as his stomach gurgled in agony, "Lets hope this place has a decent burger joint. Im fuckin' starving." Suddenly Fanboy's ears perked up, "I hear a distinct sizzling sound, sniff you jerks later!" He sprinted off towards a nearby cafe. "We should just ditch him," said Falk, "we can take his ship and never have to worry about it anymore. Saves us some good money too." Shep shook his head, "We can't just ditch him, he knows too much now. Either we keep him around or kill him. I don't know about you but if you'd like to be the one to put a bullet in his head be my guest." Falk cringed. "Normally i'd just say plug him while he sleeps, but that motherfucker is always hopped up on something! Last week he only passed out once and that's because he got wasted and went for a spacewalk without a space suit. Don't know how he survived that..." "That's what pachyderm-grade animal tranquilizers will do to you Falk." Out of the blue, a shrill scream was heard not surprisingly in the direction fanboy was coming from....

"ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME WITH THIS SHIT!"

Fanboy held a large bowie knife at the waiter's throat, the edge perilously close to breaking the skin. The poor man stammered out a reply. "N..n..no sir, this is just what you ordered!", Fanboy's eyes seemed to change color as his mood got worse. "I ordered a double cheeseburger, and that implies that you use FUCKING BEEF! This aint cheese and this sure as hell aint beef! What the fuck is it!" The wait, blubbering like a baby tried desperately to explain. "But s..s..sir, this is Vegan IX! The colonists here maintain a strict vegan diet! The cheese is a soy compound and the burger is made of tofu." "YOU TRIED TO FEED ME TOFU! GAH!" Fanboy grabbed the waiter by his collar and chucked him through the diner's pane glass window and onto the street. Fanboy stormed out of the place and began rummaging through his pockets for the keys to the ship.

"What the fuck happened in there?" Shep cursed. "Those motherfuckers tried to poison me! They put fucking tofu in their burgers!", Fanboy was desperately pleading his case. Falk supressed a chortle. "Last week you were huffing paint fumes for six hours a day and now you're upset over tofu poisoning?". Fanboy was irritated but not angered by the almost Vulcan-like logic of Falk's words. "Hey man, its the principle of the thing. We better leave before the cops show up."

Shep started laughing. "Cops? Here? Fanboy this is Vega IX, there aint any cops. This is just an oversized hippie commune full of fucking pacifists that pay a little extra to the Feds each month to live in total autonomy." Fanboy's one good eye widened. "Did you say...no cops?" He lovingly drew his knife and began kissing the blade. "Yes I said no cops, but we're here on business, you can run around skeletonizing flower children later." The look on Fanboy's face was of a child who didn't get to go on the mechanical horse outside of Wal Mart. "Awwwwwwwwwww....man."

The search for the administrative building was a short one, it was the only one not covered in tye-dye designs or organic earthtones and was up to Federation standards for an embassy complex. The doors opened and Falk's jaw nearly dropped at the sight of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Dressed in a buisiness skirt and top yet showing off the cleavage of her ample bosom, which heaved in time with her breath. He tried to angle around the desk to check out the lower half, but could not do so without suspicion. She looked up and saw the three heavily armed men. "Ah you three must be here for the bounty. Second floor, third door on your left as you exit the turbolift. Shep and Fanboy walked ahead, but Falk, mesmerized by the beauty before him hung back, leaning against the table doing his best to emulate Leon Phelps.

"Hey sweet thang, you know if you're looking for a meat substitute i'm sure I could help you find something later on if you aren't busy tonight." Normally Falk's massive repetoire of pick up lines were doomed to fail, but the women of Vega IX were notoriously loose and causal towards sex, he rationalized if he couldn't score here he might as well see if Hipper had any openings over at GALE Industries. Hah, yeah right. I love the ladies too much to ever do that. Still, there was something he wasn't quite remembering about Vega women that he thought for sure was important. Guess it really isn't that important.

"Mmmmm, we don't get too many offworlders, but it begs the question? How do you feel about 'all natural'?" As she said this she leaned forward, revealing even more of her perfect breasts. Falk's eyes nearly fell out of his forehead, he hadn't seen a pair like that since...well...ever. In his many years of working in the underground sex industry he had almost forgotten what a pair of perfect natural breasts look like. He stared intently. "All natural eh? Yes I love the sound of that." The secretary smiled and handed him a card key. Apartment 1337 in the West Building. I get off at 1900 hours, and I finish work at 1800 hours." Falk slid the key into his pocket and took the hint.

Falk joined the meeting a little late, but he hadn't missed much. The colonial administrator, a small scrawny looking man who looked like he hadn't eaten a decent meal in many months. "Greetings offworlders, my name is Axis Kast." Shep 's memory instantly fired up. "I remember you, weren't you in charge of the zoo on Thamasa colony for a while? Yeah I heard about you, you let all of the animals run through the zoo and devour all of the patrons." Axis stood up, "Listen you, you gun toting nut, are a LIAR! Those animals were under stress and if it wouldn't have been for the guests' screaming at being eaten then they wouldn't have been eaten!" "Riiiiiight," said Shep. ", so how did you get this job?" Axis stopped jittering long enough for a series of shivers to overcome his frail form, allowing some warmth to build up in his system. "The Vegans needed someone who would do anything to promote their lifestyle, no matter what. I have no qualms about taking steps other people would call extreme. Our paint-can offensive against celebrities is going well, and we expect a furless quadrant by the year 2400."

By this time Fanboy was pacing the back of the room suffering from withdrawls, wether it was a lack of actual animal-based food or psychotropic drugs no one was sure. He pulled one of his knives and plunged it into his arm and began walking around, letting the blood from his arm trickle onto the carpet.

"Does he do anything else?" Kast asked. Falk began rummaging through a small pack of supplies and pulled out a slim jim. "Fanboy! Fetch!" The processed gas station delectable was tossed into the adjoining lounge and Fanboy chased after it. Axis Kast stood up and began angrily shivering again. "You brought MEAT onto Vega IX! You broke our most sacred law!" "Its either that or he eats the blood of the innocent." Falk lit a cigar as he spoke, only half joking. "I...I see. Well at least the offending produc tis disposed of right? And you didn't bring any more right?" "Yeah, sure." Falk lied, knowing full well that the Asskicker's hold contained approximately 500 kilos of beef jerky.

"Enough of this Jibba Jabba" Shep said in his best Mr. T impression. "We heard about a bounty. You paying cash to take care of the animals right?" Axis began to shiver so hard that seizures began to overtake him, the vegan lifestyle had rendered him unable to store body heat, he grabbed a hemp blanket form behind his desk and wrapped himself in it. It was comical, these vegans had it so bad they could die of hypothermia in a heat wave.

"We don't want anyone to take care of the animals, its not their fault that our presence on the planet has them so stressed they're eating us. But we have to figure out a way to keep them from eating enough of us to maintain a viable colony. Combine the predation with our high infant mortality rate and we're going to be extinct by the time McDonalds switches entirely to Veggie-Burgers within ten years thanks to our aggressive letter writing campaign." "Why the high infant mortality rate?" Shep asked quizzically. "Well infant humans are not suited to the Vegan lifestyle, humanity is so primitive that our young lack the basic ability to subsist off of delicious grain and vegetable diets. Breastfeeding would totally contradict our Vegan ideals and we have to feed them the way we feed adults." Falk cringed. "But isn't the Vegan belief against using dairy products based on the fact that animal milk is meant for the animals? So wouldn't it make sense to allow breastfeeding because human milk is for humans you deranged emaciated fuck?"

"I see no hypocrisy in that." Kast said matter of factly. "I want what is best for my people, and if babies starve to death then that's too damn bad." Falk responded so angrily he was practically shouted. "You have a huge agriculture industry, you must be using pesticides! If you're a true Vegan doesn't that mean the killing of millions of insects goes against your ideals!" Kast did not even hesitate with his reply. "I see no contradiction with that either, besides, insects don't count." Kasts shivering had become distracting, reminiscent of an old 20th century Earth Comedy Routine dubbed "Ministry of Silly Walks."

"None of the animals are allowed to be harmed, the death of an animal brings the death sentence, because wo do not condone killing on this planet. Furthermore I ....." Fanboy stormed up to the desk and slammed the empty Slim Jim wrapper on Kast's desk.

Listen to me you scrawny lettle vegetarian fucker! You will shut your fucking mouth right now and let us leave with our goddamn ears intact or I will string your guts from a light post and count the flies you draw! GOT IT?"

Kast wet himself, the fear only slightly mitigated by the warmth of the urine and the tears trailing down his cheek. Fanboy turned to Falk and Shep and pulled the bloody knife out of his arm. "I'm leaving. Sniff you jerks later."


MEANWHILE: ACROSS THE GALAXY Aboard the Enterprise Sr.

Shift Manager John Clark sat as his command console which he had recently installed in the back of McDonald's "space-thru" number #452. A former member of Starfleet Academy's Arizona Campus, he was involved in a number of cross-infonet flamewars and thus banished from Academy computer systems, resutling in his inability to complete required coursework. So Clark had become a fry cook at McDonalds, eventually working his way top the burger assembly line and finally after fifteen years of hard dedication he became a shift manager at good ol' #452 orbiting the Federation colony of Coronaria, home of the leading Cardio-health institute in the quadrant. Of course he was never able to let go of his dream of being a starship captain, and so he had the back office converted into sort of a captain's bridge.

The man at the "helm", which is where the orders from the garbled speaker came in was called, was Jesse Stamos. Jesse's expression was frantic as he turned from his seat back towards the "captain's chair". "Sir we're being hailed..." "On Screen Mr. Stamos."

"McDonalds #452, This is the Enterprise-Sr. Our order is as follows...200 "Big Mac" combination meals, 175 Double Cheeseburgers, 400 orders of fries in medium containers...."

"My god sir, its a large order!" Stamos panicked as he began processing the influx of data from the Enterprise. "There's no way a Fedeartion starship, even an old connie can make it through the Space Thru!" The station suddenly rocked as the Connie and her aging crew plowed through forcibly, ramming a shuttlecraft out of their way in the process.

"Red Alert Mr. Stamos! Have all non essential personnel and retarded kids on bagging duty, recall all fry cooks and sandwich makers from breaks. This is it people we've got a job to do!"

Aboard the Enterprise Sr

Aboard the Enterprise, Mr. Spock finished transmitting the order. "500 soda, 250 regular, 200 diet, and fifty "sprite". And one apple pie."

"Sair, doo we rahlly need all that food?" Scotty asked.

"Normally i am inclined to agree with your assessment Mr. Scott. But our good holographic doctor McCoy has routed all of the power from our retrofitted replicators and cannibalized several of them for his hydroponics lab in sickbay. AS it stands now we either have to cook for ourselves or take advantage of facilities like this one."

"But tha food is terrible Mistair Spock! Ah'll be on th' crappar fair weekz!"

"Would you prefer a pot of Mr. Chekov's borscht?"

Scotty shuddered and held his stomach tightly, that hiudeous concoction had increased emissions fifty percent after Chekov had provided his special recipe to the ship's mess. It provoked attraction from no fewer than four Klingon starships during the week afterward.

Aboard McDonald's space-thru 452

Clark was running his eyes over his console rapidly trying to find a way to maximize efficiency even as the damage reports came in.

"Fry grease is dropping to critical levels..."

"Salt is holding steady at sixty-eight percent..."

"We've lost power to the shake machine! There's still twelve left to..."

Clark had to take action, this was his time to shine and he was going to make sure his crew remembered him as a hero on this day. "Divert power to the shake machine from the Soda dispenser, let those fuckers drink water for all I care. Reduce meat patty size by ten percent and make it fifteen if you have to! If we run out then Use some of those leftover McRibs from the last time we 'brought them back', mold contamination should create the appearance of cheese. Close an additional register inside the store and use personnel accordingly."

Clark confidently trode out and watched as the rabble under his command shined. He was sure to get promoted now, and before long he'd be running his own Franchise over Risa. He saw one of the burgers sitting next to him, a Big Mac with the top bun left off. HE spit into it, garnering a cheer from the crew. Sure it was poor customer satisfaction, but out of 500 people who would know and who would care? And who was picky enough to peel it apart and look anyway?

Later, aboard the Enterprise Sr

Spock unwrapped his Big Mac....

(Insert dramatic pause and music here)

He absolutely detested pickles, the briny taste was too much for even his Vulcan stoicness to overcome. HE removed the top bun to check for pickles, and noticed a small globule of matter. One need not have been ship's science officer for many years to know that this was a loogie.

"This is Captain Spock, as soon as we have verified that we have been given the correct change lock on and destroy the station. Nobody spits in a Vulcan's burger and gets away with it."

Chekov and Sulu watched from the bridge as the red beam of invicible light struck through the McDonalds and destroyed it utterly, over the explosion they could have sworn they heard Mr. Spock say "Suck it down bitch." But they passed it off as something else.

Back at the god-forsaken meatless colony of Vega IX

Fanboy was walking towards the spaceport, giving menacing looks to anyone that crossed his path, when it finally happened. He got his first look at the vicious animal life of Vega IX. A monstrous Guinea Pig, possibly the size of a hippopotamus. It began rampaging throughout the complex, devouring humans as if they were but seeds, nibbling on their abdomens until they had consumed the precious organs before moving onto the flesh. Guinea Pigs on some planets were prized for their delicious meat. This one, with its distanct orange and white fur covering had been fed well also, a steady diet of overly nutritious plant-fed humans was doing wonders for it.

It would be...delicious.

He grasped a knife in each hand and charged at the large animal, leaping up onto its back and viciously stabbing it, hoping to sever part of the spinal cord. The Guinea Pig thrashed in an attempt to shake off its attacker, but could not as the dug in blades of the knives combined with the inhuman grip of Fanboy (gained through years and years of indulging in the galaxy's finest erotica) would be too much. It became tired and as it slowed Fanboy pulled himself up int a standing poition and tore a large gash in the Guinea Pig's back and stomped both boots down into a vertebrae, paralyzing his prey almost instantly.

About an hour later Shep and Falk were making their way through the spaceport was well, they had heard about an animal attack but had stopped instead to enjoy one of the colony's finer brewing establishments before departing, and they knew since Fanboy was flying his ship they coudl get piss drunk before leaving. But the beer was terrible, and the whacked out ubermoralists who ran the planet had found a way to naturally negate the alcohol's effects without adding synthehol.

"I'm telling you Shep we can't leave yet!" Pleased Falk. "I even got the key to her place right here!" Shep waved his hand and closed his eyes in digust. "I don't care if she handed you her panties Falk, the beer here is terrible the food here is worse and its just full of god awful hippies. Besides she is probably all natural anyway." Falk was a little confused hearing this. "Well yeah, that's great though right? No silicon!" Shep just kind of looked at him and smirked. "You mean you have no idea what all-natural means to Vegans don't you?" "I'm pretty sure it means, giant real tits, and that I'll be happy to suck on them all night long, look I'm going over there right now i'll be back in a few hours as soon as i've got my rocks off." Falk didn't even give Shep a chance to reply as he sprinted off int he direction of the apartment complexes, with the intents of banging the middle out of the busty secretary from earlier. Shep just kept walking towards the spaceport, at least he could get in a few hours of 'Rome: Total War' assuming the disks weren't misplaced AGAIN. All thoughts of that though were interrupted as he came upon a trio of Vegan security guards cowering behind a street light.

"What's the fucking problem? Someone blow up a McDonalds in orbit or something?"

"The man is scarrrrry!" said the lead guard, apparently the only one capable of speech. "He killed that poor defenseless guinea pig that was eating the colonists! We tried to arrest him but he frightened my whole squad!"

"Who did this? Wait...never mind." Shep looked over and was not surprised to see Fanboy sitting near a bonfire roasting fresh meat over the flames on a crude spit. He had removed all of his clothes and was now wearing a loincloth made of orange and white fur along with his demented Friday the 13th mask, and he was coated in blood.

"Aw hell, this planet has finally driven him insane. FANBOY! HEY FUCKHEAD! Listen i'm going back to the ship for a while! Just, at least give me the keys will you? Then if you get arrested for being a goddamn freak I can at least go home."

Fanboy just sort of looked over at Shep, and extremely glazed look in his eyes. "The Hunt...."

"Hunt? What the hell are you talking about? Listen just give me the keys."

"The keys are in wonderland Alice..." and with that Fanboy grabbed his keys and swallowed them, shortly afterwards taking another huge bite of seared guinea pig flesh. "There so many more things to kill out there."
Fanboy said, pointing to the nearby forest.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." and with that Fanboy sprinted off into the forest with his knives. Shep tried to follow but was cut off by a pair of razor toothed squirrels that punced on his boots and began trying to devour him from the toes up. Shep, not being a patient or weak man like the Vegan colonists, pulled out his pistol and promptly shot the little fuckers.

He had to go after Fanboy and get the keys. Or there was no way off this wussy planet, but there was no going into a forest like that without some heavy artillery. He had to put in a call and get some weapons, and hope Falk got his rocks off in time to help him out.

Falk meanwhile had finally arived at the fine lady's apartment. Soon he would be locked in the throes of passion, blissfully unaware of whatever crazy shit Shep and Fanboy were getting into. The door opened for him, and he walked into the living room. "Hello? Anyone here?" he asked. "I'm in the bedroom studmuffin. Why don't you come in here and tell me about that meat substitute you were going to show me." Falk was so excited he nearly tripped over his boner as he rushed into the bedroom, however the sight that waited for him killed that boner quicker than a hollow point round point blank to the temple.

The woman was lying completely nude on her bed, lying in a spread eagle position that was universal for, "Fuck me, fuck me now" Except there was one little thing Falk found disturbing, she was covered in hair. From her pubic mound, down to her legs it looked as if her beaver had branched out and was attempting to conquer the entire lower half of her body, even going so far as to establish two huge colonies under her armpits. If anyone in THIS galaxy had ever seen a Wookie in heat, right down to the ludicrously swollen clitoris, it was Falk. He stood there in shock, she even had residual fur on her chest, nowhere near as thick as a mans but definitely more than a woman should have.

"What's the matter big guy", she cooed, "I thought you didn't mind 'all natural' women." Falk gritted his teeth. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind," he said as he rubbed the aching hard on that strained his pants. But it had been a long time since he had been able to take care of himself, and sometimes the guy behind the camera had to get his fair share also. ", but It'll do for me." Falk figured it wouldn't matter, as soon as he was inside of her and his hands were on her tits he could forget all about how hairy this bitch was and get off.

That strategy failed however, as soon as he crawled on top of her she hooked her legs around him, and he nearly lost his poise from the feel of two hairy pythons constricting around him. "God dammit that's it." Falk got up and stormed out of the room, his lover followed, but he locked himself in the bathroom. "Baby what's wrong? Quit whining and please me! Falk splashed the cold water onto his face and groin, desperately trying to clear his thoughts. She was too thick to shave and he didn't want to hack her to bit, he could cover her in rubbing alcohol and light her on fire but the stench of burnt hair would be too pungent. There had to be an alternative...


Will Fanboy make it out of the jungle alive? Will Falk find a way to screw the hairy Vegan bitch? Will SHep kill them both if he doesn't get off the colony before he goes crazy? FIND OUT ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF UPF!

[Darth Fanboy]

VEGANS OF VEGA, PART II

Falk was absolutely stumped, he was forced to draw on his years of filming experience. Like a porn director, he had to see things from every angleOf Course!, he thought, Porn! That's it!

He walked out of the bathroom grinning ear to ear, the nude wolly human eyeing him suspiciously. "Think you've got it all out of your system now loverboy?" As she batted her eyes. Falk also finally noticed that her caterpillar like eyebrows would have to be dealt with as well.

"I was just thinking that a bottle of wine might loosen me up a bit babe, care to join?"

"Well, alcohol isn't usually permitted here on the colony..."

"No problem, I always keep a couple flasks handy. Not that weak federation bullshit either, good home brewed stuff. Stole the still off a bitch named Antilles."

She finally accepted, taking a big swig out of the flask Falk handed her. She started to feel lightheaded, thinking at first it was just the alcohol taking effect, but she took another deep swig and promptly passed out. Falk quicky set to work, grabbing a pack of razorblades he kept handy in case a coke deal broke out and a bottle of lotion from the bathroom, he set to work carefull running the razor over her body. "Fuck I wish I had a pair of garden shears handy for this bitch..."

About two hours later she woke up and looked over in the mirror

"AGH! MY HAIR! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HAIR!?!?!?!"

She flipped out, she was now perfectly shaven, and aside from one or two very minor cuts she was absolutely gorgeous.

"I took the liberty of making you look good, you can thank me by getting back on the bed and showing some appreciation."

Falk always carried roofies with him, in case of emergencies, her flask was tainted with an extremely potent substance called DITL (pronounced Dittle), also known as "Portal" or "Eyeslammer" it made ones nervous system temporarily shut down and force the body into a temporary coma and made the person immune to pain, making it the preferred date rape drug of the 24th century. Of course Falk was not down with perverse violations, but he really didn't have any other way of shaving this bitch without resistance. Of course now he had to deal with her screaming, making him wish he had used a stronger dose.

"How could you do this to me! Its taken me years to get like this! I've been all natural for my entire life and now its all..."

Falk slapped her, going against his nature again. He didn't like hitting women, but he enjoyed slapping hysterical people regardless of race or gender.

""Listen bitch, I don't know how they do it here on freaky deaky PETA world. But my girls are always smoother than silk. I don't film girls unless they meet high standards and I sure as hell don't fuck 'em if they don't."

"You're a director? A porn director?"

"Perhaps you've seen Betazed Bitches I-XXVIII?"

"Who hasn't?"

"I'm Falk. Nice to meet you sweet tits."

"*Swoons* Oh, OHHHH Oh my gawd. Oh, this is sooo great."

"If you're going to stutter and not make any sense, you might as well do it over there..." said Falk as he pointed for the bed.

@ Fanboy's ship, The Skullfucker...

Shep switched on the power and dialed in the secure line on his mobile comm.

"Vympel Pyrotechnics how may I assist you?" came the high pitched female voice on the other end of the line.

"Im putting on a Siberian fireworks show, its supposed to be cold out." Shep recited the codephrase, knowing that his voice was going through a modulator analyzing the specific tone and pitch of his voice.

"Please hold.....Okay sir if you would just stay on the line..."

A few minutes passed an a familiar voice came on.

"Sheppard you smut dealing prick! Its been a while, you still flesh peddling?"

"It's a living, things are a little stuck right now though and I need some ahhh, special tools to get the job done, if you know what I mean."

"Say no more my friend, what do you need?"

"We're dealing with a bunch of fucking animals and pacifists, I was thinking of some 20th century stuff to level this place good and proper."

"Sounds about right, well i'm running a special on some Soviet Era stuff, won't be all that cheap but its availiable to my more discerning clientele."

"I'll take it."

"SOunds good, just let me know where Im supposed to drop the stuff off and how you'll be paying."

"Well we're on Vega IX and..."

"Did you just say Vega IX?"

Shep was stunned at the urgency in Vympel's voice.

"Is it true that Axis Kast is in charge of that place?"

"Yeah."

"Listen, if you do a job for me, i'll give you all this stuff free of charge and no questions asked."

"Name it."

A day later

Shep had finally managed to get a hold of Falk, who had finally had his fill of the formerly hairy woman who called herself....well her name wasn't important. The two sat outside one of the more secure docking bays waiting for a supply ship to arrive with their cargo. "You say you got Vympel to give you this stuff for free?" "Yup." "You do realize 120mm rounds aren't cheap." "Yup." "Then how the fuck did you get it all for free?" "I'll tell you later, they're here."

The cargo ship landed, fairly large for a private company these days but Vympel didn't deal in what one would call small arms.

Six hours later Shep and Falk had acquired what seemed to be an entire battalions worth of Soviet Era weaponry. Most of the items were delivered to the Asskicker but Shep had asked that some of the more premium items be delivered planetside for "the hunt." Including one t-80U tank with ARENA active defense. Suitable for the large hamsters and roving herds of carnivorus deer.

It was almost as if mother nature was calling out for Shep to restore balance and the instrument of this restoration was an assload of military hardware. The Vegan colonists were too soft and timid that it had allowed the biosphere to become aggressive, Herbivorous forest dwellers soon became top level predators, with a prey source of fat pink overindulged and underprotected humans. Nog had been keen to suggest an orbital bombardment using the main guns on the Asskicker but this was a hunt, not a turkey shoot.

"Now if only Fanboy would show up we'd have some fucking manpower to go along with the firepower? Am I right?" Falk was more than a little upset at the poor lay he had recieved from the hippie slut a while ago, but one wasn't choosy when it came to an easy lay these days. After all if you tried too hard the Zeon Boogeywomen would take you away in the middle of the night like that poor bastard, what was his name, Moriarty or something. Falk had heard details of his death, one of the few things that could make even the most jaded skin-peddler's dick shrivel up like a roll of dimes.

A large green hill just outside the colony edge gave them the perfect vantage point into the forest and Shep and Falk set up a redoubt at its peak, the perfect vantage point to start teaching animals who was boss. A group of what appeared to be hippies approached the hill and asked what they were doing.

"You left wing lunatics have something to say?" Shep said in a grim tone, his hand drawing near to a sidearm."

"We're not like the other colonists." Said an unshaven smelly bastard cuddling what appeared to be a small domesticated non native ferret that smelled of bongwater. "We're tired of seeing all of the others eaten by the predators, and we don't want to be eaten either. Teach us how to fight."

Shep looked over at Falk and grinned. "Ok, we'll teach you. But first let me tell you about a man named Oliver North."

And the hippies looked up at the Shep wide eyed and in awe as they learend of what was to eventually become the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy. A movement that was founded to protect mankind from itself that eventually had to merge in with the shadows as the fat, overindulged pigs of society began to waver in their resolve towards order. While the socialistic left wing liberal pansies had taken the government, the VRWC was far from the loser in the great societal conflict. As Shep regaled the hippies with tales of great men such as Saint North, Saint Liddy, and Saint Goldwater.

"I think that's enough story telling." Falk chimed in. "Now are you worthless little fuckers ready to learn how to handle a weapon for god's sake?" The applause served as a unanimous yes. Those not as enthusiastic would be placed on mine-laying detail.

"You think these meatbags are worth training Shep?"

"Wether they're worth training or not isn't the question. The fact is that now we have some useful cannon fodder and frankly the more of them that are martyred when those fucking animals show up, the more bodies between them and us the better."

Deep in the forest

On Earth it was rare to see a Panda. The large bamboo eating natives of the Chinese wilderness were rare and it was rarer still to find one unafraid of humans. On Vega IX though it wasn't rare to see a Panda and sure as hell wasn't rare to see one that had been feasting on human entrails recently. The red muzzle of the beast was unmistakble, and its teeth had what resembled starfleet uniforms wdged tightly between them.

Strike fast, kill the beast quickly, savor the flesh...

Fanboy sat in the tree quietly, smeared with mud to cover his scent. His knives were wrapped in leaves so that an errant glint of light caused by the sun would not give him away and his ass was clenched tightly to repress what would have been one giant signal beacon of a fart.

The Panda stopped moving as it caught the scent coming from the colony. The delicious smell of pink human flesh filled its nostrils and it inhaled deeply, completely unaware of man's potential to dominate the lower non senitent species. It had not seen a human in its true form, carnivorous, deadly, standing over a grill wearing an apron.

Fanoby leapt from the tree like a bolt of lightning right next to the panda and swung his blade across the Panda's abdomen, dragging it until it ran into the thick bones of the thigh before he pulled it out and made a new vertical slash. After doing this he grabbed the fold of severed flesh and tore it loose like the door of a tent, revealing the meaty insides. Without hesitating, he reached into the Panda's belly and found the spinal cord, crushing it in his bare hand and ending the beasts life without mercy,

He had been stalking this animal for what felt like an eternity, it was the king of the jungle on this world. An undeniable top notch on the food chain. But Fanboy had taken the Panda's life, and with it, the prestige nature rightfull granted man. Satisfied with his trophy, he cut a select piece of steak from the loin, and removed the beasts head. He thought the guys would get a kick out of it if he left in in the refridgerator.

The night after that

The ragtag band of hippies led by Shep and Falk had just spotted an large number of Deer and Hamsters moving towards the colony, it was raining. Shep guessed that it was the first thing resembling a shower that some of these men had been given in years. It was night, and the colonists of Vega IX slept peacefully in their beds, their doors unlocked. This was known because Falk had raided a few of them to help pay for docking fees that were slowly accumulating. But it was also feeding time, the woodland abominations began slowly trickling out of the forest, eagerly hunting for food and taking the chance to examine this new human construction utside of the colony. They could smell the human meat from behind fixed positions as they began to charge.

Then Shep gave the order to fire.

A hail of bullets and mortar fire streaked across the night sky in a dazzling display of light. Animals fell one by one as their bodies were torn asunder by the humans ammunition. Several deer panicked, they had never encountered a hostile prey before and they began turning back only to be trampled by the large hamsters emerging into the fracas. Bullets were having no effect on their hides but Shep, cool calm and collected, began firing tank rounds. the shells impacted against the hamsters and the vile gouts of blood could be seen erupting as flashed lit up the night. Falkenhorst saw a saber toothed squirrel charging towards him, it was so small it had managed to penetrate their defensive line, he pulled a knife from his belt and tossed it into the squirrels furry body, catching its tail but not killing it, he picked up the furry critter in his hand and looked it straight in the eyes.

"You fuzzy fuckers had better go back to nuts and berries. I let you live so you could tell the others, tell them that if any one of you eats one more fucking person I will turn every last one of you fuckers into sausages you hear me?"

Falk then resisted the urge to hit himself, squirrels don't talk. He snapped the bastard's neck with his fist and picked up an AK-47 and began spraying bullets about the field. Only the scavengers would be eating come morning.

The sun rose that morning and the colonists awoke to the stench of decaying carcasses and drying blood. While many were horrified at the display of anti-animal aggression the Reformed Hippies felt a sense of pride in themselves.

"The guns, they saved us!" One of them had exclaimed.

"You have Charleton Heston to thank for that." Said Falk

"Is he a saint too?"

"Sainthood would be a demotion for the Heston."

"There is much we could learn from you. The masses need to be told."

Shep sighed. "The masses don't always understand, sometimes they need to be told what is best for them, and sometimes they need to be reminded that there is more freedom in safety than there is safety in freedom."

About this time Fanboy emerged from the jungle, carrying the insect infested panda head, gnawing on the last few bites of what appeared to be a large panda steak.

"Did I miss anything?"

Shep and Falk stared at Fanboy, who at this point felt confident enough to release the fart he had been supressing. "Didn't think so. Can we leave now?"

"There is still the matter of our fee." Falk said.

"That will be taken care of, and I think I know a way that we'll be able to come out even further ahead."

The trio left the battlefield and made their way to the administrative complex, to the office of Axis Kast.

"You! You heathens! First I find out you are ARMING my colonists and that you KILLED animals? Why if we had a prison system on this planet I'd see that you were locked up! Fortunately Starfleet has jurisdiction here and..."

Shep pistol whipped Kast and the man fell backwards, sniveling like a baby.

"Listen, I don't give a fuck about Starfleet. Lord knows they'd probably drop me off on Telos IV just so they could give me the death penalty. But you, now that's another story. Seems that we have a mutual friend."

Shep pulled a small holo-recording device out of his pocket and set it on the table. The image of Vympel appeared.

"Mr. Kast if you're viewing this it seems my investments have paid off and my associate Mr. Shep is about to bring you back home. Haven't you missed it? It's changed an awful lot since you were here last, we've even sterilized some of the equipment and your old cell is still availiable. I do hope you haven't forgotten."

The recording ended, and Shep picked up where it left off. "Thats what happens when you cross a syndicate member Mr. Kast, especially a wealthy one with access to lots of guns and mercenaries. But I digress." Shep sent up a message to the Asskicker. "Nog lock on to the organic signature at my location covered in the mose ammonia, that would be Axis 'I just pissed my pants because Vympel is going to make me his bitch." Kast. Beam him right into the brig and toss in a couple slim jims for him to eat on the way.

Epilogue

The reformists of Vega IX, now liberated from animal opression set up several meat processing plants within the colony. 'Free' Elections were held and the REpubli- err, Reformist candidate won with a 48% majority due to an archaic election system put in place ages ago. Liberal hippies whined and cried about this but life's tough.

Shep and Falk were granted a large stake of ownership and they now had a legitmate method to launder the money from their pornographic "Empire of Skin."

Fanboy was given some bad acid by one of the hippies and entered a coma-like trance of which he has still not emerged from. It is unclear of wether or not he is dead or just really really fucked up.

LeVar Burton was not in this story, and it is unknown wether he thinks Gates McFadden or Marianaianinainaaianaiaiii Sirtis would be a better lay.

Nog, still suffering from date rape psychosis at the hands of Bashir, deciphering several Federation encryptions prior to the Asskicker leaving the Vega system. The Federation was diverting several ships away from black market porn detail and towards the operations of an insane reject from the Eugenics Wars by the name of Kan (no H but proncounced the same). The galaxy was full of lots of horny people, they needed their fix. With that in mind the crew of the Asskicker set off, on their continuing mission, to explore strange new girls and new sexual positions, to boldly film what no camera has ever filmed...

(cue UPF music)

[Ace Pace]

Is this...The end?

One fucked up funny episode.

[Darth Fanboy]

Is this...The end?

Not even close. The World's Greatest Sci-Fi Parody Since Spaceballs (tm) will never die.

[consequences]

Congratulations, you have just set a new utterly unattainable standard for fic updates, a chapter every minute.

And the Enterprise Sr is living up to my expectations of it. First a fast-food joint, tomorrow the DMV, the day after, who knows?

[Singular Quartet]

Sweet monkey buttloving jesus raped by Spainards that was good. When can we expect this vile horror to continue?

[Falkenhorst]

UPF 26: Lord of the Cockrings Part 2

"Captain's Log, Stardate 817123.5. The Asskicker has arrived in orbit of the planet Warnex 2, which
is strangely enough marked on old charts as "Middle Earth." We have come here on the urgings of
Darth Fanboy, who has spent the last several weeks in his quarters, apparently without proper sleep
or nutrition, studying the memoirs of the 20th Century porn star Ron Jeremy. According to what
Fanboy has learned, the secret to Ron Jeremy's success was an artifact known as the ONE COCKRING.
Apparently this ancient modality was forged here on Warnex 2 and somehow found it's way to Earth.
It is said to confer amazing virility to the wearer, and render them irresistible to women. Personally I
think this is the only explanation as to how a slimy fatass like Ron Jeremy could have possibly avoided
criminal charges for appearing as he did in his numerous films. Sheppard and I have agreed with Fanboy
that if we can take this Ring for ourselves, it will immeasurably increase our influence and domination of
the porn industry...."


"Well my daddy left home when I was 3 and he didn't leave much for my ma and me, just this old guitar
and an empty bottle of booze...." Falk had the CD player turned up, and Shep and Fanboy were chilling
with the windows down as they rolled down the country road. The Man In Black could be heard just
above the rumble of the White Thunderbird's engine as Falkenhorst cruised across the rolling landscape
of Middle Earth.

"Man, are we there yet?" asked Fanboy. "There's no fucking quickmarts anywhere and I've gotta take a
leak."

"Just you hold that shit in. Rivendell is supposed to be right up the road, and if you piss on the seats yer
staying behind on this fuckin rock." said Falk, as he turned the wheel with his black gloved hands and
turned off on a side road. The pimped out classic rolled up to an ornately carved gate next to the road.
Several figures were standing near it dressed in some bizarre native clothing. One came forward and
stood next to the driver's side. He was dressed in pimped out leather armor and carried a bow across
his back.

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. You have surely traveled here from afar to consult with
Elrond in these grave times. Have you an invitation?" Said the teenage looking Elf, who Falkenhorst
noticed had no facial hair whatsoever.

"More like the prince of smoking wood." cracked Fanboy from the back seat. Falk smirked. Behind his
sunglasses, the trained eye of a veteran porn kingpin had these Elf characters pegged as the kind of
pretty-boys who auditioned to be subs in gay porn.

"We should enslave all these limp wristed fucktards and sell em to Hipper, he'd cream his pants."
observed Shep. Falk explained to the Elf that they were from out of town and trying to get in to see the
big man in charge, using all his considerable skills of weaseling his way into titty bars from when he was
just a young street thug. Legolas seemed to be buying it, but he kept glancing at Sheppard and getting
more irritated as he heard the back and forth conversation he was carrying on with Fanboy about how elves
were pus nutted wankers.

"Those pointy ears, Shep. Do you think they're related to Vulcans?" asked Fanboy.

"I wouldn't be surprised. You know statistically most male Vulcans' first sexual experience is with their
fathers?" said Shep.

At that last crack from Sheppard Legolas had about had it. He stood back and unslung his bow.

"You shall not pass, Falkenhorst. Your smooth words will not fool the ear of an Elf. You and your
blasphemous friends shall not pass the gates of Rivendell."

"Goddamn it I have really got to take a piss, grated Fanboy, squirming uncomfortably.

"Oh no you fucking don't, Fanboy. You do and I'll have your shriveled little pindick for shark bait!"
Threatened Falk.

"Fuck this shit." said Sheppard, one hand creeping down to his holster.

"Hey Legs-and-Ass, whatever your fucking name is. Here's our fucking invitation!" said Shep,
drawing his Colt 1911 with speed born of robbing many liquor stores. Before the elven warrior
could even begin to draw back his bow, Shep's first shot punched a hole through his vaunted elven
armor and exited his back, blowing out a chunks of gore and leaving a hole the size of a coffee mug.
Legolas dropped down on his ass like a sack of shit and lay on the ground gasping and twitching.

"Dammit, Shep, now you've done it!" said Falk as he reached for his miniature AK-47 he kept stowed
under the dash. The other elves drew and fired arrow after arrow, doing little more than nicking the
paint of Falkenhorst's souped up classic car.

"You worthless pieces of shit, fucking up my paint job.." Muttered Falk as he racked the Krinkov's bolt
back and brought it up.

"Come and get some, BITCHES!" he yelled, holding the trigger. Both shep and fanboy curled up and
covered their ears as the little assault rifle roared, filling the car with spent shells from it's fat 75 round
drum magazine. Falk strafed the twitching corpses of the other elves with a few more bursts just for
good measure and tossed the gun down on the seat.

"Fucking assholes." he muttered again, glancing at Shep and at Fanboy, cowering in the back seat holding
his crotch as if it was about to burst. He threw the car in reverse and backed over Legolas, who was
alternately trying to hold his guts in and crawl away. There was a sickening CRUNCH and renewed screams
of pain as his legs snapped like twigs. Falk lined the car up with the ornate gateway ahead of them and
dropped the car into DRIVE.

"Hold on, fellas." he said, and floored it. The car's powerful engine rumbled and they raced ahead, two hard
Bumps in quick succession causing Sheppard to laugh hysterically as they crashed the gates and rolled on
into Rivendell unopposed.

[MKSheppard]

Goddamn this is fucking funny, definitely what I'd do if I was stopped by Elves, use my firepower to prevail

[Singular Quartet]

Who wouldn't use their firepower to prevail? They're fucking elves, goddamit! Who would want to be beaten by girlie-men who don't understand the concept of facial hair?

[darthdavid]

Ha. i know what the dark times are. Raycav...

[Master of Cards]

I promote to the one the only Supersaintgodlike guy

[Falkenhorst]

I promote to the one the only Supersaintgodlike guy

What the hell?

[Darth Fanboy]

[stravofan]OMG WTF!!!!! stfu n00b I thought there was teh new chapter lol!!!!11111[/stravofan]

Now whats this dude saying again?

[Darth Fanboy]

UPF XXVII-
STAR TREK: DOWN UNDER (part1)

(authors note: To the person who thinks there are enough stories going on in this universe already, I say "Have at thee sir" ~DF)

-Captains Log Stardate.....uh whats the word if I can't remember the date? Uhhh Supplemental!

We've been dispatched to yet another survey mission somewhere in the arse end of the galaxy, so naturally we'll be going somewhere else. Stafleet has been sending us on these things for about two years now and every time we report back "nothing to see here." Giving us what amounts to an arseload of leave. Many of the crew of expressed interest in seeing if any of those Klingon blokes know how to play footy, Even if they don't, i'm sure that there'll be plenty of action.


Captain Barry, "Bazza", Bogan walked from the ready room on his Steamrunner-classship the USS Queensland. The only ship in the Federation with a large custom built alloy spoiler on the back which Bogan said "decreased subspace drag by a shitload" The bridge also sported a large pair of Fuzzy dice. The crew, made up largely of humans from the Australis colony, affectionately referred to him as "Cap'n Bazza" or "Fuckhead", but this time they failed to acknowledge him at all as half of them were passed out at their stations, a result of the previous nights drinking contests. The USS Queensland had made it a habit to travel to far off parts of space to try and intercept old rugby or cricket matches broadcast hundreds of years ago and whenever they found one they would hold a ship wide drinking contest, usually won by the petite Ensign Sheila.

"Captain Bogan" came the salute from the only sober member of the crew, Lieutenant Killjoy. "Sir, I've written up ciatations for all of the bridge crew and enigeering for their app..." Hung over himself and prepared to deal with a by the book ninny like the Lieutenant Captain BOgan gave a stern "Go eat a dick Killjoy." Normally he humored the Lt. by pretending to skim over the report and then stash the report somewhere in the Queensland's computer archives. They were beginning to take up a very significant portion of the computer sotrage capacity but some of them made for entertaining reading. Including Killjoy's infamous report on the incident where he had been head butted by Chief Engineer Brisbane after the good Lieutenant objected to the presence of several cases of VB stacked neatly near the warp core.

Killjoy kept talking, much to to Captain Bogan's chagrin. "Well sir I figured you should at least know that Ensigns Auckland and Wellington were set adrift again last night." Bogan struggled to supress a laugh and then checked the computer logs. Sure enough the unpopular ensigns, commonly referred to as "Sheepbuggerer 1 and Sheepbuggerer 2" had been tossed into a pair of escape pods and set adrift, with the ship's tractor keeping htem from floating into oblivion. The computer logs also showed a noticeable amount of duct tape produced. "It would probabl be best to let the ensigns simmer in there for a few more hours Killjoy. Just let me handle it. "But sir..." Killjoy protested, "There isn't an indefinite supply of air for them! IF they stay out there for another hour or so they'll have nothing left to breathe!" Bogan heaved a sigh, "Fine, then go get them. But lock them in the cargo bay for a few hours, at least until Commander Irwin has mellowed out." Killjoy nodded and sprinted off.

Bogan walked over the the small mini fridge where the second officer's chair used to be and procured a beer for himself. He couldn't crack one open with Killjoy around without that motherfucker reciting flawlessly the regulations about being inebriated on the bridge, but its not like he was the one piloting the ship. After downing the bottle in one fell gulp he tossed the bottle at the pilot, Lt Commander Bastard. Nobody knew his name, so everyone just called him Bastard. "Hey Bastard! Fly us somewhere" The captain yelled as the beer bottle flew through the air and impacted against the slumbering crewman's skull with a sickening thud before landing to the ground and shattering. The entire bridge had started to become a messy assortment of empty and broken stubbies and cans, cigarette butts had begun to accumulate to and the Captain was considering having Auckland and Wellington clean the place up.

"Captain Bogan! We're getting an incoming transmission!" Came the voice from the helm, the gorgeous Ensign Bondi. The Captain slumped in his seat and muttered, "Then put it on screen woman!" "I can't captain, you have the remote." Bogan reached and found the remote control for the big screen viewscreen wedged in the cushion of his seat, he pointed it at the screen and changed the channel.

"We are the Borg. Resistance is futile. You will...."

Captain Bogan muted the set and started cursing. "Bloody fucking hell! Fucking bullshit! Everybody wake up we got trouble." After noting the lakc of response from the disoriented crew, Captain Bogan got back on the ship's comm and yelled. "Anyone who doesn't get up right this fucking instants is going to be licking wallaby dung off of my fucking boots until we reach the next port, also I'll cut your vegemite privileges!"

Suddenly the ship went to full red alert, and crewmen were up and at attention, fighting through splitting headaches and blurred vision but damned if they'd let that arshole Cap'n Bazza cut back their vegemite. The crew of the USS Queensland was under attack from a Borg Cube. And the Borg were about to find out what it was like to fight a crew of half drunk pissed off blokes from the Outback.

~Fin 27~

Well this was originally intended as sort of a one shot but I have a few ideas for the USS Queensland and the Enterprise Senior

[Crazedwraith]

lovely, absolutly charming.

I can't express my admiration for such cliche hackery enough....