Space…the final bioclock. These are the voyages of the Starship Innerthighs. Its continuing mission: to seek out new bars, and new dudes. To boldly go where dates can be found while they’re still young.

Slutty, Lulu, Jackov, Awhora, Klique, Blondes and Spork, along with some other red-leggings crew, are hurtling through space on a mission to detect an anomaly or man whore or some other galactic bright shiny object.

“Lulu, set a course for the Massengill sector.”
“iMistress. Wait, does this mean…
“I am not allowed to talk about it, by order of people who give orders like that. I’ll tell you later.”
“Okay, just let me know.”
“I will.”
“You’re such a good friend. You look good today. Have you lost weight?”
“Lulu, you are like a tractor beam, you are sucking up to me so much.”
“Yes Mistress. You are always right.”
“You’re still doing it.”
“As you wish, Mistress.”
“Mistress, do the rest of us get to say anything?”
“Oh, uh… yes, of course! But first, Jackov, I need you to alert the crew. We are going to Earth Tone Alert.”
“Earth Tone Alert! That’s awesome!”

Jackov does whatever she does to talk to the whole ship at once.
“Attention, Innerthighs crew. We are at Earth Tone Alert! Repeat, we are at Earth Tone Alert! That is all. Cool, huh? Oops.”
“Jackov, no more editorializing.”
“Yes, Mistress. Request permission to squee?”
“Permission granted. Squee at will.”

The whole bridge erupts in a giant noisy squealing screamfest, with some clapping and cheering. Then it clears out as the crew rushes to their rooms.
“Mistress, this behavior is most illogical. And it seems to repeat itself.”
“You could stand to get laid, Spork. And throwing on a little eyeliner wouldn’t help. And shave that squirrel, you hippie.”
“I believe that were I human, the appropriate response would be to scratch your eyes out.”
“That’s an order, Spork.”
“Aye, Mistress. Bitch.”
“Blondes! Give this woman a Brazilian, stat!”
“Dammit, Jen! I’m a doctor, not a depilatoreador!”
“A what?”
“Depila – it’s a person who removes wild hair after a long battle.”
“Whatever, Blondes. It sounds like you’re making that up.”
“Right. Isn’t it time for your mental evaluation?”
“Blondes! Go prepare! It’s Earth Tone Alert!”
“Right. After this, though, I need to examine you to determine the cause of the growth in your huge ass.”
“Go!”
“Mistress?”
“Yes, Awhora?”
“No one is on the bridge but us. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Yes, I can. But I don’t want to. As communications officer, you’re kind of a blabbermouth.”
“What? I wouldn’t tell anyone!”
“Right. Okay. Well, can you keep a secret?”
“Yes, Mistress!”
“So can I. Go get ready!”

Awhora leaves the bridge. Soon after, there is a direct message for Mistress Klique, and she takes it in her office. It’s the highest ranking Blingon officer, Admiral Thong.
“Mistress Klique here.”
“Mistress, how are you? Getting excited?
“Admiral Thong! Yes I am! I can’t wait. I haven’t told the crew anything.”
“Good, because the mission is a little different this time. You are searching for the elusive rebel known simply as ‘Bobby’.”
“THE Bobby? He has a whole warehouse full of peas. How could he be wanted?”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say he’s wanted, if you get my drift. He needs to be taken in.”
“I hear you, Admiral. We’re proceeding to the Massengill sector, but where do we go from there?”
“He was last seen at the Space Bar.”
“OH. MY. G- Request permission to squee?”
“Permission granted. And you’ll be on your own this time. I have to get my hairs and nailz did, shawty.”
“Squee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And, understood, Admiral. I am up to the task.”
“I hope so. He’s a crafty one. We had him cornered a few days ago, and he was like ‘knock knock, who’s there, trick or treat, gone’.”
“We won’t let that happen.”

Admiral Thong signs off to go gets her nailz and hairs did, and Mistress goes to her quarters to get the perfect outfit.
“Slutty! Are you available?”
“Yes, Mistress. I just have to finish going to the… um… finish up here.”
“Okay, well report to my quarters when you’re finished.”
“They’re more like halves, Princess of the Universe.”
“Slutty, your com is still on.”
“Sorry, Mistress. It’s this tummy trouble. I’m giving her all she’s got, but I canna get much more out of her.”
“TMI, Slutty. I don’t need to hear that.”
“Ahhh, she’s breaking up.”
“TMI! Stop talking!”
“iMistress.”

Eventually, Slutty arrives in Klique’s quarters.
“Okay, you have to promise not to tell anyone else, especially Spork.”
“Tell them what?”
“Don’t tell them anything.”
“Well, how am I not supposed to tell them something if I don’t know what it is I’m not supposed to tell them?”
“Good point. Okay, we are going to the Space Bar to look for-”
“The Space Bar! Awesomesauce!”
“I know, right?”
“Fir rills?”
“Fir rills!”
“Request permission to squee?”
“Permission granted! Squeeeeeeeee!!!!!!”

*7 minutes later*
“Hey, were you about to say we’re looking for something?”
“Oh, right. We’re looking for Bobby.”
“THE Bobby? The one that puts women on milk cartons?”
“The very one. We have to get through his barrier of pick-up artists to get through to him, though. That’s why I need your help. You have to put an outfit on me that is permanently set on stunning. You have to make us all look so good that they raise all their shields and load their photon torpedoes. Know what I mean?”
“No. What?”
“Seriously?”
“Nope. Just kidding. I’ll see what I can do.”

Slutty decks out the crew in the latest hottest clothes from Forever 2321 and Old Starfleet and Gigantic Nuclear Furnace Topic. They look incredible, the best they’ve ever looked. They’re sexy, and they know it.
“Okay, ladies, we’re here. The Space Bar.”
“SQUEEEEE-”
“Stop that! Don’t screw this up! If we pull this off, we get two weeks of leave on the planet of our choice.”
“Okay, Mistress, what’s the plan?”
“Spork, you’re going in first with your charm. Head for the first two guys you come across and take them out.”
“Right, because I can take two on at once with my Vulvan-”
“Yeah… let’s go with that. Off you go!”

Spork heads into the bar, where she is let right in, bypassing the long line.
“Okay, now that she’s taking out the riff raff, Awhora, you take Jackboy. Lulu takes Smoothie because he loves lolitas. Jackov, you got Killah.”
“I was hoping you’d say him! He’s so-”
“Yeah whatever. He has a tattoo of the Easter Bunny on his face. Anyway, Blondes, you got Midnight, and Slutty, you take Shadow. They’re the two hottest to get, and I think you’ve got what it takes.”
“And you’re getting Bobby? That’s not fair.”
“I know.”
“How do you expect to get him?”
“I got sexy. I got a can of sexy – a pallet of sexy – I got a whole warehouse full of sexy.”
“Right. Good luck, Mistress.”

They enter the Space Bar, where everyone is scoring with their targets. Mistress walks right up to Bobby.
“Hey, Bobby. Can we talk?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Tell me something about yourself.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on – you must have something you like.”
“I like boobies. Small, big, itty bitty, it’s like ‘Doorbell, come in, itty bitty boobies.”
“Great! Would you like to feel these? These nice, round, full firm boobies just waiting for you to be-”
“I know.”
“-squeezed and held and played-”
“I know.”
-with and touched and-”
“I know.”

Bobby grabs both of Klique’s breasts and gives them a squeeze – releasing the darts embedded in the tips of each cup. They hit him in the face, where their roofietasers knock him out.
“Ladies! Got him! Let’s get out of here! Innerthighs – 8 to beam up!”
“Hey, screw you! I didn’t get to go to the Space Bar!”
“Whoever said that is spending the night in the brig. Beam us up NOW!”
“Sorry.”

They beam aboard, but the sneaky transporter tech, all decked out in awesome and sexy clothes, beams down to the Space Bar at the same time. As soon as she materializes, she is hit by a baseball bat, a ladder, a piano, a crane and a meteor. She is totally killed. And the ladies in line take her clothes.

Meanwhile…
“Mistress, it was illogical to leave when you did. I was just about to perform my Vulvan Nerve Suck.”
“Sorry, Spork, it had to be done. Bobby is one of the most dangerous criminal masterminds in the galaxy, and besides, the guys you were with were extremely ugly. Don’t you have any sense of taste whatsoever?”
“I do. That’s why I wanted to taste th-”
“Gah! TMI! You don’t wear beer goggles, you wear whiskey Hubbles.”
“Fashinatin’”
“Go to bed, Spork. That’s an order. Well, ladies, when we get this guy back, it’s two weeks of leave. Any planet! Where do you want to go? Blondes?”
“Can we… go back to the Space Bar?”
“OMG that’s what I was gonna say! Squeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!”
“SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

Advertisements