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VOLERON'S MOST BOGUS WEEKEND& COMPLETLY COINCIDENTAL SCREENSHOT CONTEST ENTRYSo this is the story of my weekend out, the highlights of which just happen to work with Q's challenge this week. It's kind of a long story that I don't really want to get into, so I'm only going to tell this once.
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So this was me on Friday night... starting out in good spirits and headed to Earth Space Dock after a long tour of duty out in the Delta Quadrant. I had plans to meet up with my good buddies, Varel and Armek of Borg, to tear up the Dance Floor at Club 47. Now I know what you're thinking... "you're friends with Armek?" Well the truth is that several years ago, I was on this kick where I'd run "The Cure Ground (Elite)" at least once a day. It was during one of our nightly encounters during the boss fight... probably on about the 350th go-around or so, that Armek and I got to talking, and I was able to help him out with some family issues that he'd been having. You might think that you have it tough with a large extended family, but think about having to cope with billions of whiny siblings, with new ones being assimilated each day... it can just get a bit overwhelming is all. Also, I helped him move out of his parent's Cube and into a Sphere of his own, so as far as "guy favours" go, he owes me. We've pretty much been close ever since.
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So anyways... as it turns out, Armek and I are both fans of Riverdance and on this occasion, we decided to show off our mad skillz at the club, but not before a 30 minute debate with Varel on how illogical the whole exercise of dancing was. He finally agreed to humor us by joining us on the dance floor, though he didn't think much of our dancing. Bet you can't guess which one of us in the holo-photo is the Vulcan?
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Apparently, Varel wasn't the only one who didn't think much of our dance routine, because twenty minutes into it, a group of loud-mouthed, good for nothing Nausicaans confronted us and compared our dancing to that of an engorged Denebian Slime Devil in heat. Now Armek and I aren't ones to back down from a good bar brawl and things got pretty messy. I took a few good shots to the money maker, but in the end, those Nausicaans got what was coming to them. I choked out one while Armek literally picked up another and ripped him in half on the dance floor, with his guts spewing everywhere. I heard later that they had to close down the whole club for three hours while they disinfected the dance floor, ha! The last Nausicaan found a new family on Armek's sphere! His new Borg implants really suit his already ugly face, lol. Count on our pacifist Vulcan friend to call station security, though, and the weekend spiraled downhill from there.
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Had to get my first officer to come bail us out of the holding cells on Monday morning when I finally got my sub-space phone call. There's nothing more embarrassing than being escorted out the security office by your second in command, while parading past the junior officers on the way to the transporter pad in this kind of shape, let me tell you. Anywho, I know this picture isn't really a "selfie" per sé, but one of the security guys I got to know over the weekend had a pretty good sense of humour and let me keep the mugshot.
Admiral Quinn's already on about some sort of Code of Conduct investigation, but he promoted me all the way to Captain based on my spontaneity, so I doubt very much that he'll have the gall to cause me any real problems. Back to the Delta quadrant for some more boring system patrols... ouch... just after a visit to sickbay for some dermal regeneration.
Keep this all in the vault, though... I really don't want this to become the Monday morning replicator talk at coffee break.
