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Hey dude, welcome back. You don't need to earn any respect back. Ya still got it.

This should yield results! Go for it!

After signing the delivery form, Mrs. Jones took a long hard look at the vibrator she got off ebay.

Mmmm Cornish Pastie

Ooh beware Janeway. The bosses take not kindly to those who would dare flaunt other websites in their posts. Beware, or smite thee they will! But Colbert does so rock.

In a dreadful turn of events, Mean McNasty, the infamously cruel baseball player refuses to let the "special" guy in the crowd catch the ball.

So Mark Wahlberg's Max Payne now...oh dear.

The government's attempt to "make school cool" had been a misguided and inept task from the beginning.

"Wax on, wax off" - Mr. Miyagi

JELLO FIGHT!!!!

Hmmm. The only thing I wonder at night is whether or not I should stop cracking open people's heads in attempt to gain their powers. I've killed ten guitarists already and Stairway is still giving me trouble.

"Day Man! Fighter of the Night Man! Champion Of The Sun! You're A Master Of Karate and Friendship For Everyone!" Can't stop singing that song in public!

Today the government revealed its new scheme. Road markers for people who talk like Sean Connery.

"Sex alleviates tension. Love causes it.” -Woody Allen Atticus stared at himself in the mirror. The surface of his buttons shone, his face was perfectly clean shaven and the polish of his boots gleamed so brightly he could of used them to see his reflection instead. In every sense he looked like a model Starfleet Officer. He sure as hell didn’t feel like one.. Segami’s shift hadn’t started on a good note and it had ended a lot worse. His right-hand in the department was still giving him lip, the tactical systems on Excalibur were running far less than perfectly and now Victria…well she was, gone. He’d tried to tell her how he felt just before it all went down but he hadn’t had the guts. And now, now it was too late. Victria was in the not-so-friendly hands of Starfleet’s literal ‘Men in Black’, the Intelligence division. They’d swooped in like commandos with their high-powered rifles and swooped right back out with the Al-Ucard in tow and this was all within five foot of him. It was more than a straight-up loss to Segami, it was a damn slap in the face with an iron glove. He was Excalibur’s Chief of Security and as far as the Trill was concerned that made it his ship. Those jumped-up G-Men had performed the equivalent of leaving a flaming bag of Targ droppings on his doorstep. He grimaced at himself, dolled up in a dress uniform like a man on parade. Soon he’d be at that God-awful reception smiling like an imbecile and sucking up to the brass, all the while daydreaming about ways to kick seven shades of hell out of the Captain. He’d been berated, insulted and relieved of duty by that dog and yet he still had to attend this event. Because after all, what would it look like if a member of the ship’s senior staff didn’t turn up? Forget the fact that a kidnapping was just legally sanctioned and carried out; a party was a party and couldn’t be ignored. For an amazing leader, and a masterful tactician Corizon could still be the epitome of an uncaring pain in the backside. With a final grunt Atticus left his quarters. As he stepped outside into the corridor he turned around to double check his door was secure. The standard lock wouldn’t stop S.I. if they decided to have a poke round his quarters while he was gone but he wasn’t going to make it any easier for those jarheads. Laarell, just leaving her own quarters, saw the Trill lingering outside his quarters. There was opportunity -- and she never passed up an opportunity. He was emotionally vulnerable, frustrated, and most interestingly -- no longer "taken". It made her work so much easier than if she were battling Victria for his affections -- even if she would have proved that that the literal vampires of the universe weren't necessarily the vamps. In short, he was prime material for her needs. With a smile, she brushed up to him, touched his shoulder lightly. "Lieutenant?" Atticus turned around slowly, trying to keep his cool. He was not in the best of moods and was very willing to give a piece of his mind to whoever was bothering him at this inopportune time. It was then he saw who it was. Laarell stood there in her dress uniform and he had to admit it, she somehow made the stiff authoritarian outfit look pretty damn good. After countless, mind-numbingly dull official functions he never knew the outfit could do something like that to a lady’s curves. Attempting to be genial he managed to put his anger aside and say, "Commander...nice to see you…Attending this function too I suppose?". Hardly Shakespeare but it would do. She nodded. "Unfortunately." Laarell glanced over the taller Trill, and grinned. "I have to admit, in spite of how uncomfortable these are, they can make one look quite dashing." Not expecting the compliment, Atticus couldn't resist his natural reaction to blush a little. He stood up straight up and put his hands behind his back in an attempt to hide this from her. “Yes well, they do the job I think...” He said, shrugging it off. “You yourself look quite lovely this evening I may add. Not that you don't usuall-“ Realising he was making an ass of himself and not wanting to do so, the Trill decided to stop from rambling. “-would you care to walk with me?", He asked instead, abruptly. The words jumped out his mouth all by themselves. Laarell kept grinning. And right there, she knew -- she'd won. "Thank you very much. And yes -- I'd *love* to." She sighed. "Formal functions -- let's hope they at least have a little alcohol." The Orion’s honesty made the Trill smile as they began to stroll together. He was sick and tired of everyone being so damn cheery about events like this. Frankly he didn’t expect it. Her relaxed feeling brought out a little spark of rebellion inside Segami. "Oh don't tempt me.” He chuckled deeply, “In my current state booze would be a very, very bad idea. Might bring out some darker parts of me not fit for public occasions." The science officer smirked. "Now that sounds positively..." Her voice trailed off, and she tried to think of a word to finish the sentence that wasn't "delicious". The lack of an end to the sentence actually made Atticus even more intrigued. It was that tone she was using. He just couldn’t put his finger on it but it was just different. "Have I got you at a loss for words Commander?”, he inquired with a sly raised eyebrow, bringing his footsteps to a halt . "You do. You really do,” she answered, and smiled sweetly. “I hope not.” He continued, “Your mouth is, put simply, one of your loveliest features. It’s so skilled at what it does that sometimes I’d like to…” The pause hung in the air like honey on the end of a spoon. The silence lingered even longer than Laarell’s previous pause had. For a few moments, time stopped. “…you talk exceptionally well,” he said, the volume of his voice only above a whisper. He coughed and in a much more neutral tone said, “Shall we?", gesturing down the hallway and beginning to walk. It was a sadly obvious attempt to escape having to complete his statement. What was that all about? For some reason he had almost said something quite explicit to the green lady in the fitting uniform. For some reason her presence was starting to make him weak at the very knees. And for some reason his heart was racing at the speed of light and he didn't know why. But stranger than all this, he liked it. It must have been the stress, he thought to himself, he wasn’t thinking straight. Teykier fell back into step with him, and had an unreadable smile on her lips. It wasn't as if she didn't know what ran through the minds of her colleagues when their eyes lingered on her for a few moments too long. But she played it as if she hadn't noticed the slip, and after a few moments she spoke. “At any rate... I suppose I wouldn't mind seeing that dark side. Has to be fascinating," she purred. "All those years of the symbiont -- you must have a darker side than most men indeed." The Security Chief realized the truth. Commander Laarell Teykier was actually flirting with him, a man she’d openly described as a thug. It was her intention to cause these reactions in him. And it was making the Trill grin like the devil himself. And now, he thought it was only fair that he returned the favour. Two could play at this game. "Commander”, he said with a tone to match hers. “I think that if you knew about half the things I’ve done in my time you would not be able to look at me the same way again. And I'm also pretty sure my reputation as a security chief would be questionable since I know that some of those things just aren't legal on more chaste planets." Laarell peered at him curiously. "The Atticus host, or others?" A wicked look crossed her face. "Or all of them?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" He teased as he pressed the turbolift’s call button. "I'm not sure I could tell you that unless you showed me a bit more of yourself Commander. Quid pro quo I think it's called." "A bit?" Her smile went wolfish. "How much more?" "Heh, to even yourself up to me? I think you'd have to show me…everything." The lift arrived, right on cue. "Hmm." She stepped into the lift, watching the Trill as he followed. "Deal," she agreed, readily, after a moment more of "consideration". Not that she had to really decide... Following the Commander’s swaying figure into that small lift a thousand thoughts raced through the Lieutenants mind, mostly along the same theme. It wasn’t a joke any more. His charms weren’t falling flat, and more importantly, neither were hers. That was certain. What he was considering to do was stone-cold crazy, he knew that. She was a superior officer and he was in no state to make a rash decision like this. A woman he believed he might care about was being held prisoner, his career was highly in jeopardy and his pride was stung. There was no way he could be objective about this. But if he was going to make a choice it had to be now. Letting the doors close behind him Atticus neglected to call out a floor. He instead looked the Orion squarely in the eye and made his call. "Commander Teykier. Do you think the other guests would really mind if we were a little bit late in attending this function?". His eyes focused on her with a look that let her know exactly what he was beginning to suggest. "Just a little bit?" Laarell pressed up against him, fingering the top of his collar lightly. "I don't think they'd mind if we ended up more than "a bit" late. And please -- quit using my rank." She grinned up at him. "Laarell, You're the first person this whole damn day who didn't give me a world of trouble or try to get me fired. And that makes you at this moment, my favourite person in the Universe. The fact that you're nothing less than simply gorgeous doesn’t hurt either. If it doesn’t sound too out of line I want to hold off on going down to that bloody world of regulations and beauracracy for a short while and if you like, I’d very much appreciate you joining me.” He slowly wrapped his arm round her and pulled her close. “In fact…I'd be quite honoured. How does that grab you, Miss Teykier?" The Orion looked up at him with her most innocent expression. "The honor, Mr. Segami, I'm sure would be all mine." The kiss that followed between the two of them was long, hard and by no means innocent. Hands wandered where hands do and it was a stroke of pure luck an unassuming crewman didn’t require the lift. Following the embrace he held her close and pressing a button re-opened the door, revealing the hallway back to their quarters. Cheekily he said, "So what’s considered fashionably late these days? An hour or so?" Laarell's eyes glittered. "At least." With quick footsteps and more than one giggle between them, the decision that lay before the two officers was a much easier one: Her place, or his?

I myself have recently gone back to watching Twin Peaks. I've got a fever, and the only prescription is more backwards-talking dancing midgets.

Heh, she'll just work it into her character. Scotty can have a go at her when she nicks the "shiny shiny crystals" as she puts it before she gets tackled by security.

I was Alex from A Clockwork Orange...scared the crap out of some of the people in my local pub.

Heh, Simon Pegg is SUCH a strange choice for Scotty that it actually feels like it could work! If that makes sense.

I hate it when you're planning a birthday party and so many of the guests badger you for it to be fancy dress that you finally do. Then low and behold when you announce that fact, the other half of your guests are all absolutely against the very idea of it and spurn you for it. You just can't win...

Bunions! Wait...Onions!

This game of "one potato, two potato" was getting a lil too intense

The boy with the thorn in his side, Behind the hatred there lies, A plundering desire for love. -The Smiths “So…Are you going to talk now?” The Trill mumbled something incoherent and his head lolled to one side. A short dribble of blood flowed from the side of his mouth with a gurgling sound. It trickled down his cheek till it fell like tiny crimson raindrops onto the cold metallic floor of the interrogation room. He watched them fall, almost enthralled in the image of it. This mission had been so simple and now, here he was. “Look at me when I speak to you!” Something moved like a blur and took Segami’s face in a vice-like grip. The prisoner tried to scream but there wasn’t even enough breath in his lungs to do that. The man’s hands stank and his filthy nails dug into the Trill’s skin. They belonged to a Cardassian, a damn large one at that who had been his only companion for so long. “I want you to be polite you little turd. Or do they not have manners where you come from?” The Cardassian sneered. “Now answer the question. Are you going to talk?” Segami used all his strength to croak something through the man’s fingers. “Oh you are for once! How lovely.” The bastard said before letting go. “Go on, out with it. What do you have to say?” The Trill had been here, in this small room on this decrepit station, suffering for days, maybe weeks. For all he knew it could have even been months. He couldn’t tell one bit. After being tortured in every way known to man, the concepts of time, space and even his own identity were a blur. All he knew now was pain, pure unspeakable pain. His naked body, strapped to a metal chair, was an ungodly, unrecognizable mess. It resembled a slab of rotten meat. Every inch of his form was either bruised a dark black or crusted in red. There were burn marks on his chest, three of his fingers were missing and there was no right eye to speak of. His jaw had been broken on the first day with an iron bar and every time he drew breath it was with an awful wheeze from his lungs. Every time he heard that sound he knew for a fact that he’d never make it home to his alive. There had been far too much damage. He would have liked to cry at this thought but even then, he was so dehydrated there were simply no tears left to do so. He looked hard at the face of his captor. Hard enough to see the man’s twisted poisoned soul in that sardonic smile he wore. Segami didn’t even know his name. The one time he’d tried to ask resulted in the first loss of a finger. He stared hard at this monster and with every bit of strength in his body he tried to force the words out. The words that could mean the end of it all. He’d simply had enough. It hurt so much, so very much but the only noise he could make when he tried to talk was a soft rattle. “Come on now!” The Cardassian taunted as the rattling continued. “Speak up. Just tell me anything, anything at all and I’ll let you go immediately. We already know you’re from this “Federation”, that you’ve come here to spy on us and cause trouble. Just tell me something like a name, or a rendevouz location, or even a rumour you heard, and you’re a free man. I promise.” Segami’s face strained, every muscle was tensed, his veins stuck out but it had a result, he began to tell the Cardassian exactly what he needed to hear. “You…” The Cardassian looked like a child on Christmas Eve “I…yes, yes, what? I what” “You need…to message…” “Who? Who do I need to message?” The Cardassian shouted at the crippled form. This was it. Finally the subject had cracked. “A contact of yours?” “You need to message…your mother…” The trill coughed blood. “So you can tell her…I won’t be shagging her today…I’m a little beat.” With his wrists restrained and his torturer now shocked silent, the pained Trill raised a single middle finger on the hand that still had one to the man who had made his life hell. The Cardassian, his eyes full of rage, swung his arm and gave Segami a backhand so hard it knocked the Trill out cold. He did so a few more times, screaming expletives before leaving the room in a fury. The door slammed shut behind the sadist and the lights went off, plunging everything into darkness. But in that little room something small but far more powerful than any brute strength remained. Something simple yes, but nobody could take away The smile on Layor Segami’s face. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That same smile rested on the face of another Segami many years later. A host named Atticus. He remembered exact;y how that day felt as he lay on the floor of his current cell in the mirror universe, staring up at the ceiling. He recalled how it was only after that incident that Layor was finally released from the horrific nightmare he’d endured and was soon saved by a federation rescue team. Sadly Layor was ultimately right, he was so badly wounded from the torture he never actually made it home. But in the end that isn’t what Atticus considered important. The Trill’s body may not have survived but his spirit did. That spirit, that stubborn, cheeky, unbending spirit lived on. Now it was in him. That’s why Atticus smiled now. Though he was unlikely to survive this mission, he knew that right up until the end he would keep that spirit alive. He’d never stop fighting, never lose his resolve and never stop being a pain in arse to the guards. Because as long as he did that he’d never really lose. Its only when a man has lost his sense of humour, his passion, his pride and his willingness to make a nuisance of himself, that he dies. And so to prove a point to no-one in particular, with the image of a fanged crewmember in his mind Atticus lay back…and grinned.

Random Quote: "I know...Canada. More cows up here than people."

It was obvious Yeltsin's drinking problem was out of hand when he couldn't even pass the "touch your own head" test the traffc cop gave the gang.

And the winner is...Galen! :lol: