Sunday, April 27, 2008

Star Trek Christ Superstar


KIRK: (VO) Captain's log, star date 34-24-35. The Enterprise was delivering a shipment of vitally needed Coconut Oil Isotope to the Planet of the Horny Women. A perfectly routine assignment. The kind that gets routinely interrupted ..


KIRK: OK, gentlemen. We'll be reaching coordinates in .07 hours. I need some volunteers to help me in rub the ...

CHEKOV and all the other guys on the bridge leap out of their seats.

GUYS: Me! Me!

SULU stays.

KIRK: What about you, Sulu?

SULU: That's OK, captain. I hurt my hand playing handball.

UHURU rolls her eyes.

KIRK: Something bothering you, Lieutenant Uhuru?

UHURU: It's just ... The Prime Directive, sir. Aren't we...

KIRK: No, lieutenant. We're not. The Klingons killed their coconut trees. We're restoring the balance that's all.

SPOCK: The "private little war" incident on planet Neural is a legal precedent.

KIRK: Yes, of course, Spock.

UHURU: (muttering) Vulcan kiss-ass.

KIRK: Except this is more of a private little wet t-shirt contest...and the mission will proceed as planned.

UHURU: (hearing something in her ear-com) No it won't sir. There's message from Star Fleet.

BULLWINKLE: A message?


UHURU: (beat) Something really, really bad has happened.

KIRK: Something?

UHURU: Someone.

It looks like Israel in the era of Ancient Rome, except for the television cameras and Roman Centurions holding machine guns. JESUS is on trial before PONTIUS PILATE, who's played by James Gandolfini. For some bizarre reason, the trial is a musical production a la "Jesus Christ Superstar.

Who do you think you are, Jesus Christ?

That's for me to know and you
to find out

Cut the shit
Jewish Twit
Where were you on the night
Of April 2 AD 33?

I refuse to answer on the grounds
It many incriminate me

Basta! Enough of this shit
I wash my hands of the whole
Fucking thing

(hands him a box of wet wipes)
Pop up a wet one

Thanks man, I'll get one
And make myself clean

He wipes his hands.

I try to be nice, show a little pity
You just bought yourself
A one-way ticket to crucifixion city
Tough titty
Take him away!
Who is this gagootz anyway?


UHURU: Dr. Emanu-L from Trifecta 7, sir. A dangerous fugitive. Starfleet Command has issued an emergency intercept order to all starships in this sector. This supercedes all previous orders.

CHEKOV: (in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses) Damn it!

KIRK: Who is this? Dr. Emanu-L?

SPOCK: A noted physicist who lost his mind after prolonged Cordrazine abuse.

Everyone looks at Bones

BONES: What's everybody looking at me for?

KIRK: Paranoid, Bones?

BONES: It was an accident!

KIRK: Why is Starfleet so worried about Dr. Emanu-L?

SPOCK: According to Star Fleet, after stealing a class-X freighter, Dr. Emanu-L crossed the interdiction zone and entered the the parallel world sector.

KIRK: A joyride?

SPOCK: More than that, captain. He's violated the Prime Directive.

KIRK: Prime Directive, Prime Shmirective. Who hasn't?

SPOCK: He's posed as the Messiah to primitive races.

KIRK: Well, who hasn't?

SPOCK: More than that, captain. Using a mind control device, Dr. Emanu-L posed as the Messiah in the form of a planetary musical theater productions in violation of the copyright of the estate of Andrew Lloyd Webber. And forced the primitive humanoids to participate.

KIRK: Who hasn't?

UHURU: To be precise, Dr. Emanu-L has posed as the Messiah on the planet of the 1930s gangsters, the planet of the American Indians, the planet of the Nazis, the planet of the Romans with television sets.

KIRK: We all make mistakes. But that's in ...what about the planet of the Horny Women? It's in that sector!

UHURU: He told them sex was bad.

KIRK: That inhuman monster! We've got to stop him! Where is he now?

SPOCK: According to the ion trail, the planet of the Romans with TV sets.

KIRK: Set course to intercept. Ahead Warp Factor 4.

CHEKOV: We're here, captain.


SCOTTY: We've got a lock

KIRK: Beam him up, Scotty.


BONES: He's dead, Jim. Severe nail injuries.

KIRK: Uh. Not to impose on your area of medical expertise, Bones. But shouldn't you turn that thing on?

BONES: Oh, sorry. (turns the monitor on -- it starts beeping, faintly) He's not dead, Jim. The damage is still superficial. I can regenerate the tissue!

KIRK: Do it!


KIRK addresses the hippyish DR. EMANU-L in a force field containment cell. Thanks to Starfleet medical technology, DR. EMANU-L is as good as new.

KIRK: You've got some explaining to do, mister. It's the Prime Directive, not the Prime Suggestion.

DR. EMANU-L: O ye of little faith, man.

KIRK: Playing tinpot messiah for the benefit of primitive races. Why? What? Does sick need does that feed? Some kind of God complex in you?

DR. EMANU-L: You are such a Herbert, man.

KIRK: What do you have to say for yourself?

DR. EMANU-L touches fish symbol on robe.

DR. EMANU-L: Goodbye.

He vanishes.

KIRK: Beam him back up!

He rematerializes.

DR. EMANU-L: Thanks. A crowd of 10,000 people just saw me ascend to heaven, man.

KIRK: Oh, great.

DR. EMANU-L: I am used to such trials. This is my third one this week.

Red alert indicator starts beeping and flashing.

BONES: I hate that thing.

SCOTTY: (on intercom) Captain! The engine room is filling up with loaves and fishes!

KIRK: Not now, Scotty.

UHURU: (on intercom) Captain to the bridge!

KIRK: (to Dr. EMANU-L) You, too, Mister. I want you where I can see you.


KIRK, BONES and DR. EMANU-L burst in from the elevator. SCOTTY follows, brushing fish and crumbs of bread from his uniform.

KIRK: Now what?

CHEKOV: (pointing to badly animated glowing blob on viewscreen) It's God in outer space, sir. Yuri Gugarin is rolling in his grave.

KIRK: Wow. I didn't see that coming.

BONES: No, of course not. God in space. It's nothing at all like V'Ger. Or the computer disguised as a Lizard God who ate pineapples on the surfer planet. Or Llandru on the planet of the repressed fundamentalists who went apeshit on the weekends.

SPOCK: You state the obvious, doctor. Statistically speaking, "God in Space" is Gene Roddenberry's favorite plot.

KIRK: (addressing viewscreen) Listen here, God, or whatever you call yourself. I'm through playing games here! I'm calling your bluff! Show me your face!

SCOTTY: No, Captain. Are ye daft, man? Ye never scanned "Raiders of the Lost Arc." Ye look at God's face, you'll melt like wax. Any fool knows that!

KIRK: Well, then don't show me your face. You may be God. But I am. A human being. We are all human beings.

SPOCK raises an eyebrow.

KIRK: Or partly human beings. Humanoid. Unlike you, Mr. God, we're not perfect. You have all the answers. We have questions. Even when. Nothing makes sense. We'll keep talking and talking. Even though. Nothing we say. Makes any sense at all. That. Is what makes us human.

GOD IN SPACE: (voice of Ben Stein) Wow. That's awesome reasoning. Could I speak to my son, please?

EMANU-L: Tell him I'm not here.

GOD IN SPACE: Son. Have you been interfering with primitive cultures again?

EMANU-L: Yes, dad.

GOD IN SPACE: You've been a very naughty boy.

EMANU-L: Sorry, dad.

GOD IN SPACE: Oh, I can't stay mad at you. Let's spend the weekend hiding fake dinosaur bones to trick the humans into believing in evolution.

EMANU-L: Awesome!

He disappears.

GOD IN SPACE: Awkward parental moment. Wow. I'm really sorry about that. (to KIRK) To make it up for you, I'll restore your hair and get rid of your beer belly.

It happens. The Crew applauds.

KIRK: Uh. Thanks! (he snags his shirt on a blinking Lucite cube, revealing his now ripped torso) I've been waiting the whole episode to do that!

BONES: Could you get rid of these bags under my eyes?

GOD: No. Well. I have a universe to run. Ciao.

SPOCK: God has, apparently, left us.

KIRK: What do we do now?

SPOCK: I say something profound, you say something witty.

KIRK: Witty.

SPOCK:Yes, Captain. Hopefully. We leave the audience thinking.

KIRK: Hopefully, Mr. Spock. Hopefully.


* Above is based on an ancient comic book I did, the art for which has now been lost. Obviously references to Ben Stein and James Gandolfini are new. Chris Jefferson contributed to original concept.