Episode Report Card Keckler: A | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Maximum Over(warp)drive
By Keckler | Season 2 | Episode 4 | Aired on 10.08.2002
I saw my dermatologist this week, and she diagnosed the pussing rash I have all over my body as Insipidae Themeas Songititis. They'll have an antidote just as soon as Russell Watson gets his throat torn out by dingos.
Reed bug-eyes, "You're killing me!" He's in Sick Bay, lying on a table, legs spread. Maybe he's giving birth. Phlox is grasping him by the soles of his feet. "Are they still cleaning the pee off of him?" Mathra calls out. Peeing in your pants -- it's the gift that keeps on giving. "Push, Lieutenant. Two more seconds," Phlox orders, holding a tricorder. He IS giving birth! Reed grunts a bit more. "And rest," Phlox says and releases Reed's feet. CONTINUITY! Reed, collapsing back on the table, moans, "It can't be ethical to cause a patient this much pain." Then don't ever get a woman pregnant, you wuss. "It's unethical to harm a patient -- I can cause as much pain as I like," Phlox says. Hee! I love Phlox so much -- I wish he had rounds at Brigham and Women's. Reed gives Phlox the stink-eye, and Phlox tells him to get an attitude adjustment, sing-songing that positive thinking is vital to the recovery process. Reed chafes under not being able to blow things up in space that aren't there, even if he had the firepower to do it. "Attitude, Lieutenant! The wound might heal faster if you'd allow me to apply a few more Regulan blood worms," Phlox suggests. "Oh, you're not putting any more of those things inside my leg -- you still haven't found the last one!" Reed exclaims. "He'll come out on his own...eventually," Phlox assures him. Yeah, but where? Reed and I shudder.
Center shot of Porthos lying dejectedly on the floor of Quantum's cabin. There's a squeak. Quantum and Porthos both look up. "Did you hear that?" Quantum asks. Thrilled at having SOME attention paid to him, Porthos trots over to his master. Oh, such a puppers, he is! Instead of playing with his adorable puppy, Quantum obsesses over the squeak in his floor. "Trip told me he fixed that squeak," Quantum gripes, as Porthos goes back to being bored on another patch of rubber floor. CONTINUITY! T'Pol comms that they are getting a response to their SOS. Without so much as a backward glance at Porthos, Quantum runs to the bridge. "It's a Tellarite freighter," T'Pol informs him as he enters. Quantum puts a steel railroad spike down his spine and stiffs their situation to the Tellarites, asking if they can arrange a rendezvous. The Tellarite transmission statics out, but it appears that the Tellarites are not going to be able to keep that assignation. "Can you repeat?" Quantum asks. More static; all we can make out is that they mention a repair station and seem to be transmitting coordinates. What the static glosses over is how many pounds of flesh it's going to cost the humans to fix their boo-boo. T'Pol confirms that they received coordinates, and Quantum asks what she knows of "these Tellarites." They've got pig faces and get murdered on the way to Babel. "They're not the most agreeable species," T'Pol responds, "but they're usually trustworthy." T'Pol tells him that the repair station is about three days away at warp two. In order to match Quantum's furrow of I Think I'll Make A Decision Here, The Brass Of A Sketchy Decision Is About To Be Made play, Quantum tells May-about-to-be-glue that it's worth a look.