Phil, Dustin and Phil’s Mom have managed to get a truck driver to stop, after wrecking their Ford Taurus on their way to Los Angeles. The truck driver, one Billy Bob Clampett, is a driver for the Mother Trucker trucking line out of Butte, Montana. The foursome have left Oklahoma, and are now in the state of Nevada.
Phil’s Mom: I really appreciate you picking us up, mister.
Clampett: Aw, shucks. It twarn’t nothin’.
Phil: (To Dustin) So, as I was saying, Zefram Cochrane is really fifty seven years old.
Dustin: Zephram Cochrane was not fifty seven, he was born on March 15, 2030 at the Mary Mother of Holiness Hospital in Los Angeles, California! Which makes him 33!
Phil: If he was thirty three, then how come he looks so friggin’ old? Because he’s fifty seven!
Dustin: Look. The reason why he looks so old is because he’s spent all of his time since the post-atomic horrors living next to a frigging nuclear missile. It must be the radiation!
Phil: It can’t be the radiation, because the missile was protected by a titanium reinforced carbolitic protection shield!
(The two start bitch-slapping each other again)
Clampett: What in tarnation are them two arguin’ about?
(Phil’s Mom slaps both of them upside the head, effectively breaking them up)
Phil’s Mom: Now, you two boys, shut the fu** up!
Clampett: Ma’am, I reckon you hittin them two boys went and got me horny. Mmm-hmm.
Phil’s Mom: Oh! Really?
Clampett: Mmm-hmm. I’ve got a bed in back of the truck. (He points back there) I reckon it’s a might comfortable. I reckon we could go back there and have some hot steamy sex.
Phil’s Mom: Okie dokie.
(Clampett pulls the truck off the road and the two proceed back into the back of the truck)
Phil’s Mom: What will those two do while we’re busy?
Clampett: I reckon they could use that there CB. Mmm-hmm.
(The two shut the curtain and start getting busy)
Phil: (Picking up the CB mike) How does this thing work?
Dustin: (Grabs it from Phil and scoots over into the driver’s seat) I’ll do it. (Presses the button) Starfleet Command, do you copy? (Static) Starfleet Command, this is the USS Enterprise, patrolling the Romulan border! Do you copy, over? (Static)
Phil: I guess there’s no one there.
Dustin: (Starts playing with the steering wheel) Klingons off the port bow! Mr. Sulu, evasive maneuvers heading 321 mark 47! Get us out of here! Fire all phasers and lock onto them with photon torpedoes!
Phil: (Starts playing with the CB channel changer) Torpedoes away, Captain!
Dustin: (Presses the handset) Starfleet! We’re under attack! We have three Klingon battlecruisers!
(After he depresses the handset, someone comes on. His handle is 8-ball)
8-ball: Boy, get the hell off of this radio!
Dustin: (Whispering to Phil) Hey, want to have some fun?
Phil: (Laughs) Okay.
Dustin: (Presses the CB and changes his voice to sound high pitched and screechy) Hey, boy! Lookin’ for some lovin?
(Phil starts covering his mouth and laughing. From the back of the truck, some thumping and loud moaning can be heard)
Clampett: I reckon that feels a might good, ma’am! Mmm-hmm.
8-ball: Who the hell is this?
Dustin: This is Bertha Sue. If you want some sweet lovin, go to the El House of Lovin Motel! I’m in room number 13!
8-ball: Really, now. How long you been there?
Dustin: I’ve stayed there for the past two weeks.
8-ball: Yer lyin!
Dustin: No, I’m not. I run a house of prostitution out of my room!
(The two really start laughing)
8-ball: You little sons of bitches! I stayed at the El House of Lovin Motel last night in room 13! Yer lyin and I know exactly where you are!
(The two start looking panicked)
8-ball: Ye might want to wash yer truck. I just wrote “Wash Me” in the dirt. HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!
(Phil and Dustin can hear some tires squealing and a semi goes barreling by. Phil and Dustin get out look at the truck door, and, indeed, someone had wrote “Wash Me.” The two get scared and run back into the truck)
Dustin: (Presses the button and is visibly nervous) Wh-wh-who are y-y-y-you?
8-ball: Name’s 8-ball. I’m your worstest nightmare. Oh, yeah. You may want to think about getting your shocks fixed. That trucks bouncing mighty good.
Dustin: That’s because my friend’s mother is having sex with this guy that picked us up.
8-ball: I know. I’m in there with them. We’re havin a threesome with yer mom.
Dustin and Phil: ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!
In Los Angeles, Odo, Bashir, Worf, Eddington and O’Brien are still walking around looking for chicks.
Bashir: Dammit, we’re never going to find any chicks.
Odo: Doctor, I believe the real reason we’re out here is because the Captain wants us to find out why we were brought here.
Bashir: I know, Constable, but we’d be able to think so much clearer once we finally get laid.
(The five happen across five women wearing extremely short skirts, with tight tank tops and caked-on makeup)
Bashir: Hello, chicks! Want to, uh, do it?
Eddington: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! ME TOO!
Odo: (Smacks Eddington) Settle down, Eddington.
(All of a sudden, a man wearing a green suit, green tie and a green hat, with huge sunglasses comes up. This is P. Daddy)
P. Daddy: Yo, fool! What you trying to do to my ladies?
Bashir: We’re trying to score. So get the hell out of here before we kick your ass.
P. Daddy: You ain’t no undercover police, are ya?
Odo: I am Constable Odo. Head of security for the Bajoran space station, Deep Space Nine.
P. Daddy: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA! That’s a good one! Listen. These are my hos. They’ll be willing to score with ya if ya got the green.
O’Brien: And who are you in relation to these ladies?
P. Daddy: They’re not ladies. They’re my hos. And I’m there, uh, what could I call it? I’m their manager. I take care of billings and collections for their services. And, if you want their services, it’ll cost ya $50.
O’Brien: FIFTY BUCKS? GOOD LORD THAT’S A LOT OF MONEY!
Bashir: Pay the man. We’ll all feel a whole lot better after we have some hot kinky sex.
O’Brien: Oh, all right. (He pulls out a wallet he replicated and produces $250 bucks) Bloody Cardassians...
(The ten walk off back toward DS9, where they plan to put the $250 to good use)
Somewhere in Death Valley, Zombie-Roddenberry is making progress in his trek to Los Angeles.
In Sick Berkett’s underground lair, a meeting is taking place. A meeting which involves Berkett, Akiva Goldsman, Hahn Jobbe, Michael Hunt, and Dr. Flotsham, chief of Rick Berman’s Cloning Enterprises, Inc.
Berkett: Now, as you know, we are getting ready to begin production on our new movie, Star Trek: Exploitation. I’m getting ready to put out an ultimatum to the U.S. Government. Either make Patrick Stewart play in my movie, or I will use my super-secret satellite to broadcast reruns of Voyager over every channel around the globe!
(The group gasps)
Goldsman: Inspiration has struck.
Berkett: Oh, boy!
Goldsman: Instead of wasting valuable resources making a new movie, why don’t we just take two Voyager episodes, tack them together, and play them? We can have movie posters hanging up showing Captain Picard and Captain Kirk on the cover, fighting the Borg. We can call it Star Trek: Resurrection. Witness the resurrection of Starfleet’s greatest hero: Captain Kirk.
Berkett: I like it. Do you have any two episodes in mind?
Goldsman: How about “Fair Haven” and “Spirit Folk”?
Berkett: Diabolical. Make it so.
Flotsham: (Clears his throat) Um, Mr. Berman...
Berkett: MY NAME IS SICK BERKETT! RICK BERMAN IS NO MORE!
Flotsham: Okay, Mr. Berkett. I have gone over your DNA profile, and there is no way to remove Sam Beckett’s DNA from your body. However, I have gone ahead and proceeded on a program with which to clone you.
Flotsham: He is like you in every way. Except he’s one-eighth your size.
(The door to Berkett’s office swooshes open, and in comes a miniature version of Rick Berman)
Berkett: Excellent. I shall call him.... Mini-Berman! Scott Bakula and Brannon Braga will pay. I will see to it. Mr. Jobbe, Mr. Hunt, proceed back to the Paramount lot. I want you to liquidate them immediately!
The five Deep Space Nine crew members have arrived back at the Paramount lot with their hos. When they get there, O’Brien notices a slip of paper hanging off of the station. O’Brien looks at the slip wide-eyed.
Bashir: What? What does it say?
O’Brien: It says we owe $100. And.... we’re illegally parked!
TO BE CONTINUED...
Sick Berkett and Mini-Berman start splicing together Star Trek: Resurrection! Brannon Braga starts writing new Enterprise episodes! 8-Ball chases Phil and Dustin! And Connor and Duncan MacLeod have a run-in with U.S. Customs! Agents Mulder, Scully, Doggett, and Krycek arrive at the Paramount lot.