“Captain’s Log: Stardate 4002.05. Captain McIntyre has just revealed the identity of the three Ensigns coming onboard the Enterprise. Native to Moronica, they’re not the brightest bulbs, to put it politely.”
“Captain McIntyre,” snarled McCoy, “what are you trying to pull here?!”
“Doctor, there is no logic in verbally sparring with her,” advised Spock. “She is simply following orders.”
“And I agree that they’re foolish orders,” said McIntyre, “but Starfleet didn’t give me much choice. Kirk, you must understand that I don’t want them on ANY Federation vessel, but they’re only Ensigns because they had been in the Senior Class at Starfleet Academy for too many years. As such, any Captain and crewmen that have been given those three are ordered to keep their identities secret and disclose them to no one on the condition that those three try hard and devote their lives to Starfleet.”
“With all due respect, those three can’t stay on task to save their lives,” replied Kirk. “There must be other Ensigns.”
“Other Ensigns, yes, but no ships capable of handling those three. Regretfully, not even my own.”
“Dammit, Jim, this is a Starfleet vessel, not a vaudeville theater!” hissed McCoy.
“We have to give them a chance, Doctor,” said Kirk. “For now, we’ll obey Starfleet. …McIntyre, are you due to talk to Starfleet, per chance?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m heading back to Starfleet Headquarters,” replied McIntyre. “Why, do you have a suggestion?”
“Is there a…’strategic area’ they could be overseeing?”
“Kirk, you and I are of the same mind. I already made the recommendation and Admiral Williams is looking into it. He’ll want timely reports on their progress, of course.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“In the meantime, though, I must return to my ship. Good luck with them, Captain.”
“We’ll need all the luck we can get,” muttered McCoy.
“Farewell, McIntyre. And, again, congratulations on your new command.”
“Thank you, Kirk.”
As McIntyre returned to her ship, Moe, Larry, and Curly were busy painting the walls. Curly was singing a strange tune. “Oh, sell me a home! Where the cows often roam! And the swamps and the clouds play!” He then looked to Moe. “You know, I’m getting sick of Starfleet!”
“It was YOUR bright idea to join in the first place, Egghead!” snapped Moe. He then impersonated Curly’s voice. “‘Join Starfleet and see the galaxy! No more painting! Beautiful girls on every planet! Woo woo!’ I got a good mind to bust your skull!” He then felt a paintbrush go across the back of his head. He turned around and Larry, thanks to not paying attention, painted Moe’s face. “Why you!” Moe grabbed Larry’s shirt. “Does my head look like a wall to you?!”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen your head lately,” replied Larry. Moe slapped his cheek.
“Get away from here!” Just then, Curly accidentally painted Moe’s head. He turned to Curly. “HEY!” he said. Curly stopped to listen to Moe. “Why don’t you look where you’re painting?!”
“I’m painting where I’m looking!” Curly then stuck out his tongue, then Moe painted it. Curly gagged, then barked at Moe. Moe then threw the paint bucket at Curly. Curly ducked and it spilled all over Nurse Chapel! Chapel cried out in disgust and got their attention. “Look what you did!” Moe blamed Curly. They then rushed up to her with rags. “We’re very sorry, toots!”
“We’ll get you cleaned up before you can say ‘Ticonderoga’!” promised Larry as they began wiping her off.
“If you can say ‘Ticonderoga’,” added Curly. The three men continued wiping, then Moe noticed something.
“Hey, wait a minute!” he yelped. The rags still had paint on them, so the mess on Chapel was only getting worse.
“YOU IDIOTS! GET OUT OF HERE!” shrieked Chapel. She grabbed the paint bucket, ready to throw it.
“Boys, I think we did this wall already!” gulped Moe. “RUN!” The three men ran from Chapel and into a sector of Main Engineering. They then sat down to catch their breath.
“Boy, that was a narrow escape,” sighed Larry.
“…Hey, don’t we have an assignment here?” asked Curly. An Andorian woman overheard that and prayed to her gods that they didn’t!
“Hey, yeah! We do!” replied Moe. He looked up the assignment. “We gotta look into the flow regulator to see what’s jamming it up!”
“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Larry.
“Nothing, Porcupine. Get the tools.”
“…What tools?”
“The tools we’ve been using for the last ten years!”
“Oh, THOSE tools!” Larry got out a toolkit and Curly found a handle on the wall. He read the sign. It said “Flow Regulator Access”.
“Hey, fellas! I found it!” he said.
“Good work, kid! Open her up!” called Moe as he and Larry checked the tools. Curly pulled on the handle, but the door didn’t budge.
“Hm!” Curly yanked again, but it didn’t move. “Stubborn, eh?!” He barked at the door, then yanked it off. “How do you like that? Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk!” He tossed the door away and it landed on Larry’s head.
“OW!” yelped Larry. Moe steadied him.
“Take it easy, kid! It was a great fight!” said Moe. After that, Moe and Larry joined Curly. He held out his hand for a tool.
“Penacanatay!” he said.
“Penacanatay!” replied Larry as he handed him the tool. Curly tapped the tool to the regulator.
“Labeesuk!” Curly held out his hand to Larry again.
“Labeesuk!” Larry gave Curly another tool.
“Pakoowaybus!”
“Pakooweybus!” Moe then saw the tool in Curly’s hand.
“Hey, wait a minute!” he yelped as he pointed to the tool. Curly got a look at it, then glared at Larry.
“I said PakooWAYbus!” he said.
“You trying to blow the ship up?!” asked Moe.
“Sorry! PakooWAYbus!” Larry handed Curly a different tool.
“There we go!” Curly then touched the tool to the Flow Regulator, then power went through the tool and into his body. Moe and Larry tried to pull him away, then power surged through them!
Back on the bridge, Uhura’s console went crazy. “What in the-?!” Spock heard her and saw what was going on.
“Lieutenant, I would advise you to back away,” he said.
“Don’t need to tell me twice!” Uhura got away from the console. In fact, everyone on the bridge gave that console a wide berth.
Back in Main Engineering, Moe and Larry got Curly away from the Flow Regulator. It finally stopped sparking as the three recovered. “…Pakoowaybus don’t work very good,” muttered Moe.
“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE, YOU BLOODY IDIOTS?!” shouted Scotty.
“It’s okay, Mr. Scott!” gulped Moe. “We was just fixing the Flow Regulator and-!”
“With a bloody laser spanner?! Are ye trying to blow the poor ship up?! Get out! Get out!! GET OUT!!!” The three men fled Main Engineering. Scotty ran his hands down his face, then saw the Andorian woman fixing the three’s “fix” and the initial problem. “Good work, Lass,” he said.
“Thank you, Sir.”