Syrup Beaver
pants log
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
mr wheaton should go into porn
I bet his career would REALLY take off then.
Plus he'd actually get to touch a real girl for once!
He could write about that on his blog site! Maybe write a couple of books about it even!
I bet his career would REALLY take off then.
Plus he'd actually get to touch a real girl for once!
He could write about that on his blog site! Maybe write a couple of books about it even!
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
S
smileynev
Guest
Syrup Beaver
pants log
S
smileynev
Guest
ChikkenNoodul said:
That reminds of the star trek fanfic with wesley getting raped by the klingons. Actually turned my stomache a little bit. I'm sure fly knows where to find it.
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
someone email him the link to this thread
maybe hell get all pissed and register here and we can make fun of him in real time
maybe hell get all pissed and register here and we can make fun of him in real time
Syrup Beaver
pants log
Syrup Beaver
pants log
S
smileynev
Guest
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
S
smileynev
Guest
Mean Mr. Mustard
Always shouts out something obscene
S
smileynev
Guest
S
smileynev
Guest
"Wes, leave her tits alone."
Wesley Crusher reluctantly moved his hands. "I wish they were bigger."
"They're fine. Trust me."
"Trust you?" Wes laughed. "Come on, Broccoli, you've never even been laid except on the holodeck."
Reg Barclay, "Broccoli" to the younger engineering staff, gave Wes what he hoped was a withering look. "That is not true."
Wes smirked.
"Well, even if it is, that's not the point," Reg continued. "Her tits are perfect just the way they are. Quit thinking like a teenager, Wes."
"I am a teenager."
"Yeah, well, you're also an ensign."
"Oh, ensigns like small tits? Then how come everybody ogles Counselor Troi instead of Flat-chest Farris?"
Reg sighed. "You're impossible. Listen, if her tits were any bigger, she'd start to look abnormal. She has a certain elegance, the legginess and grace of a Risan pleasure dancer. You don't want her to be topheavy, do you?"
"Geez, Broccoli, you sound like you want her for yourself."
At that moment, the door hissed open to admit Commander LaForge. "Wes, Reg, there you --" he broke off, staring at them and the table between them, which held the motionless body of a nude woman. His jaw dropped. "What ..."
"Geordi!" Wes blurted. "We -- um, that is ... it isn't what it looks like! She's not alive!"
LaForge's gape widened.
"No, that's not what I meant! She's not dead! She's ... well, ur," Wes stammered.
"What the hell is going on here?" His barely-contained roar would have made even Worf take a step back.
Reg gulped and looked him square in the face. "We're building a woman for Data."
Geordi whoofed as if the breath had been knocked out of him. He staggered a bit, braced himself against a console, and said in a very calm polite tone, "What?"
Having bounced back with the resiliency of youth and foolishness, Wes started babbling an explanation. "He's always trying so hard to be human, but he really feels alone, except for Spot, and do you remember when he built that girl, but she died? Well, he could have built another one, but he'd think of her as a daughter, and we thought maybe if we did it, he'd look at her as, you know, a woman. Not a sister or anything, but a girlfriend. I met a guy at the Academy when I was on that tour, he was interested in Dr. Sung's work and gave me copies of all his research, and Reg and I thought, well, Data's birthday is coming up, and Commander Riker's throwing him that surprise party, so we thought we'd give everyone a surprise and fix him up with a date. We didn't tell anyone else because I thought Captain Picard might tell us not to, and so we've been working here, in secret, but now that you're here and you know about it, you could help us!"
He stopped, breathing fast, his eyes alight and hopeful as those of a puppy looking for a sign of approval.
Reg was suddenly grateful that LaForge's visor concealed his eyes, because he was sure that he and Wes were on the receiving end of a withering look that was much more effective than his own.
Speaking very slowly and carefully, Geordi said, "You are building a woman, for Data, as a present?"
Reg nodded. "We actually could use your help, sir. You're more familiar with Data's positronic brain than anyone but Data himself, and we've been having a few problems. Gland boy there doesn't think it matters, but I thought Data might prefer having someone he could have intelligent conversation with, instead of just a sex machine."
"Sex machine! That's a good one, Broccoli!"
"Shut up, Wes," Geordi said absently. "You two constructed a positronic brain? Just cobbled one together in your spare time?"
"Yes, sir. It wasn't as hard as it sounds. Getting the materials without anyone finding out, that was the hard part. Except, of course, that we haven't been able to bring her on-line. Maybe if you took a look ..."
"Come on, Geordi," Wes said. "Data's your best friend. Don't you think he'd like a girl he could really relate to?"
"Why do you think Data needs a girlfriend?" Geordi asked. "He took out that emotion chip, remember?"
"But he wants to be human, or at least understand us better. Nothing's ever worked out for him with human women, why not an android? She'll be his perfect companion." Reg gestured to the table. "At least look at her. We've come this far. What do you think?"
Scowling, Geordi stepped closer. As he studied the android woman, his frown was gradually replaced by a reluctant impressed smile. "Nice work, guys," he admitted.
Reg and Wes grinned at each other, justifiably proud. "We call her Galatea," Reg said. "Ancient Earth mythology, Greek, to be precise. Pygmalion the sculptor made a statue of a woman and loved her so much the gods brought her to life."
Wesley Crusher reluctantly moved his hands. "I wish they were bigger."
"They're fine. Trust me."
"Trust you?" Wes laughed. "Come on, Broccoli, you've never even been laid except on the holodeck."
Reg Barclay, "Broccoli" to the younger engineering staff, gave Wes what he hoped was a withering look. "That is not true."
Wes smirked.
"Well, even if it is, that's not the point," Reg continued. "Her tits are perfect just the way they are. Quit thinking like a teenager, Wes."
"I am a teenager."
"Yeah, well, you're also an ensign."
"Oh, ensigns like small tits? Then how come everybody ogles Counselor Troi instead of Flat-chest Farris?"
Reg sighed. "You're impossible. Listen, if her tits were any bigger, she'd start to look abnormal. She has a certain elegance, the legginess and grace of a Risan pleasure dancer. You don't want her to be topheavy, do you?"
"Geez, Broccoli, you sound like you want her for yourself."
At that moment, the door hissed open to admit Commander LaForge. "Wes, Reg, there you --" he broke off, staring at them and the table between them, which held the motionless body of a nude woman. His jaw dropped. "What ..."
"Geordi!" Wes blurted. "We -- um, that is ... it isn't what it looks like! She's not alive!"
LaForge's gape widened.
"No, that's not what I meant! She's not dead! She's ... well, ur," Wes stammered.
"What the hell is going on here?" His barely-contained roar would have made even Worf take a step back.
Reg gulped and looked him square in the face. "We're building a woman for Data."
Geordi whoofed as if the breath had been knocked out of him. He staggered a bit, braced himself against a console, and said in a very calm polite tone, "What?"
Having bounced back with the resiliency of youth and foolishness, Wes started babbling an explanation. "He's always trying so hard to be human, but he really feels alone, except for Spot, and do you remember when he built that girl, but she died? Well, he could have built another one, but he'd think of her as a daughter, and we thought maybe if we did it, he'd look at her as, you know, a woman. Not a sister or anything, but a girlfriend. I met a guy at the Academy when I was on that tour, he was interested in Dr. Sung's work and gave me copies of all his research, and Reg and I thought, well, Data's birthday is coming up, and Commander Riker's throwing him that surprise party, so we thought we'd give everyone a surprise and fix him up with a date. We didn't tell anyone else because I thought Captain Picard might tell us not to, and so we've been working here, in secret, but now that you're here and you know about it, you could help us!"
He stopped, breathing fast, his eyes alight and hopeful as those of a puppy looking for a sign of approval.
Reg was suddenly grateful that LaForge's visor concealed his eyes, because he was sure that he and Wes were on the receiving end of a withering look that was much more effective than his own.
Speaking very slowly and carefully, Geordi said, "You are building a woman, for Data, as a present?"
Reg nodded. "We actually could use your help, sir. You're more familiar with Data's positronic brain than anyone but Data himself, and we've been having a few problems. Gland boy there doesn't think it matters, but I thought Data might prefer having someone he could have intelligent conversation with, instead of just a sex machine."
"Sex machine! That's a good one, Broccoli!"
"Shut up, Wes," Geordi said absently. "You two constructed a positronic brain? Just cobbled one together in your spare time?"
"Yes, sir. It wasn't as hard as it sounds. Getting the materials without anyone finding out, that was the hard part. Except, of course, that we haven't been able to bring her on-line. Maybe if you took a look ..."
"Come on, Geordi," Wes said. "Data's your best friend. Don't you think he'd like a girl he could really relate to?"
"Why do you think Data needs a girlfriend?" Geordi asked. "He took out that emotion chip, remember?"
"But he wants to be human, or at least understand us better. Nothing's ever worked out for him with human women, why not an android? She'll be his perfect companion." Reg gestured to the table. "At least look at her. We've come this far. What do you think?"
Scowling, Geordi stepped closer. As he studied the android woman, his frown was gradually replaced by a reluctant impressed smile. "Nice work, guys," he admitted.
Reg and Wes grinned at each other, justifiably proud. "We call her Galatea," Reg said. "Ancient Earth mythology, Greek, to be precise. Pygmalion the sculptor made a statue of a woman and loved her so much the gods brought her to life."