Benoondict Khanderbatch sat on the bridge

Benoondict Khanderbatch sat on the bridge of the ReallyBIgShipthat'sNOTtheReliant and brooded. Something was terribly wrong with reality, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly

which thing it was. He turned over command to the ships JesterWhoIsImpersonatingTheCaptainForTheNextShift and left the PoopyScoobieDoobieDooDeck to return to theQuarterBackDeck

Damn! Picard punched the console. The ship's computer had the Idiot's Guide To The Galaxy virus. Picard summoned Data. Data bounded up with a strange look on his face. He said,

Big Data and his son, Little Data, stole the show at the Carnival of Links between Chicago and New York. Father and son were both stand-up comedians, doing gigs at the Walmart on

Tuesdays. Walmart employees found them a bit annoying, but Big Data and Little Data kept coming back to tell their jokes to anyone who stopped by.

Most of the jokes were harmless; knock-knock or your-mama jokes but Big and Little Data were in rare form this Tuesday, Oh yes. Someone had spiked their juice boxes and they were

now on the verge of telling an 'I knocked your mama" joke when your mama stormed in and grabbed Big and Little Data by their collars and dragged their drunken arses from the room.

Now, left alone in an empty house, trashed by the party, I suddenly felt the encroachment of infirmity into my conscious mind. I was getting too old for this shit. I was knackered.

With a yawn, I pushed everything on the sofa to the floor. Then I collapsed onto the sofa, shoved an arm over my face and promptly fell asleep. Naps were the best thing ever.