Star Trek IV: The Film Novelization - Slash Fiction Edition

## Background

During the Double Dumbass Tour, Adam periodically read passages from a slash fiction novelization he wrote for Star Trek IV, much to the delight of the audience.

## Transcript

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home

The Film Novelization - Slash Fiction Edition

Words and Pictures by Adam Pranica

Chapter 9

Last night in San Francisco

Spock sat quietly in the cramped quarters of The Bounty, staring at the screen glowing softly before him. He didn't pack much for the journey, Vulcans rarely do so he had only the essentials. A robe, a Vulcan lute, and a Hitachi Magic Wand: an ancient Earth artifact he had obtained at the adult bookstore next to the pawn shop he had visited earlier that day.

"How do you feel?" blinked the computer screen on the terminal in front of him. Spock thought for a moment.

"Horny!" answered a voice beyond the chain link partition that separated his quarters from Doctor McCoy's. With one hand, the doctor waved the metallic drapes away with a flourish more dramatic than surgical, which also revealed (for anyone who still wondered) how he got the nickname "Bones."

"Doctor," Spock said, "I believe you are still feeling the effects of time spent containing my katra. The refractory period can be.. difficult."

McCoy was incredulous, and now fully engorged! "You think I don't know that ya green blooded--"

"There are ways," Spock continued, "to relieve your discomfort." He gestured toward the personal massager, the cable wrapped logically around the handle.

"Spock! I'm a doctor not a sex toy!""

Not long ago, Spock had made the ultimate sacrifice for his friends. The gift, his own life. A gesture that balanced the ledger between the needs of the many and the needs of the few, or the one. And what he gave before, he would gladly give again. But, as Doctor McCoy stood before him he was confronted with another possibility. Would it not also be logical.. to receive?

Spock loosened the knot of his robe with a sturdy tug. "Doctor, I have been and will always be.. your daddy."

...

Elsewhere among the unfinished whale enclosures still under construction in Engineering, Scotty worked towards another miracle that he had made a decorated career out of promising the great men in his life. As his nine fingers wound through Dr Nichols' thinning brown hair, Scotty's engine core pumped at warp speed into Nichols' mouth with a rhythmic action usually only reserved for ships responding to an emergency.

Scotty closed his eyes. Endeavoring to prolong the process he recalled the button Dr. Nichols had worn upon their introduction. In big bold letters it said, "I quit smoking."

Now on his knees, Dr. Nichols "smoked pole" with an enthusiastic commitment that made Scotty doubt his resolve as the transparent aluminum that formed the room around them began to fog into a humid opacity. Like with so many things, Scotty was about to prematurely finish a task he estimated would take much longer, and as the Klingon ship swayed with their movements he bellowed, "Thar be ropes here!"

...

Exposure to chronometric particles was known to increase blood flow and Kirk was feeling a slight headache, not made any better by the total jalopy of a truck he was in rumbling across the unpaved road toward the park where Dr. Taylor had picked up her date for the evening just a few hours before. As her embarrassing piece of shit pickup truck wheezed to a stop in front of their destination, she hoped for an invitation inside. This Jim Kirk from Iowa had a confidence that usually only came from a man with a great head of hair and 100 bucks in a his pocket. She was a sucker for hard-luck cases, and she wanted to see just how hard he was.

"Look," Kirk said, "I had a wonderful time, it's just that it feels too soon to invite you inside."

Gillian winced, this old game again. She gazed at Kirk, his face reddening from what looked like an uncomfortable erection pressing against the restraint of the passenger seat lap belt.

"From the looks of it... you're about ready to breach," she said, gesturing towards his "dorsal fin" which challenged the tensile strength of his thick maroon trousers.

Kirk moved the pizza box vertically in front of his abdomen, a clumsy attempt at modesty that came as unnaturally as beer drinking to him.

"You should know I'm just coming out of a relationship and I'm still grieving the death of my boy," Kirk said.

Gillian unbuckled her seatbelt and rolled up her sleeves, "That's fine Jim, I don't humpback on the first date but I do like to get my hands dirty."

And so the truck began to rock as the doctor's examination began, becoming more thorough and exploratory by the minute. The truck's headlights painted the trees in slow rhythmic swishes until Kirk's thick ambergris bubbled forth, painting the interior of the windshield like an uncovered sneeze.

From a great distance, perching birds were woken from their slumber as Kirk's voice rang out across the park, "CUMMMMMM!!!"