DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Sherry B and is copyright (c) 2001 by Sherry B. This story is Rated PG-13. This story is for the pure hell of it and is nothing but tongue-in-cheek parody. No offense is meant to anyone! Yankees, especially.
This Side of Paradise: Confederate Style
Captain's Log: This is Telephone Operator Uhura. The UCC Enterprise is orbiting planet Southern IV. We were here by Confederate Command three days ago when the colonist stopped writtin' and callin,' which caused sour stomachs since Southern IV makes the best Wild Turkey in the Confederacy. Once we got here, Captain Jimmy Tom Kirk, Doctor Lenny McCoy, three deputies with their best huntin' dawgs went down to the planet and within hours all walkie-talkie contact was lost. The next day, Mr. Spock with three more deputies and the rest of our huntin' dawgs went down to the planet only to disappear.
I've decided to go down there myself with Nurse Chrissy Chapel ... Spock's missus ... to find out what in the hell is going on down there and kick some boody ass if anything has happened to our mens. We'll be takin' our best shotguns and wearing our finest daisy dukes. Yeah, we mean buzinezz.
* * *
The two drove into some po' dunk town in their pick-up truck. The women eyed the town with disgust. It was made up of hastily built saloons, ice houses and ... whore houses. Loud music of Hank Williams could be heard over the drunken laughter of men and women. Uhura and Chrissy were pissed as hell.
They stopped at the bar where most of the noise came from and jumped out of the Dodge Ram and slammed the doors, making the fuzzy dice swing wildly from the rear view mirror. Chrissy tugged at her shorts to ease the wedgy that she had. The women grabbed their shotguns from the bed of the pick-up truck and walked to the entrance of the bar. They stopped at the door and looked inside and what they saw pissed them off ...
The room was crowded with men and ill-clad women. Uhura and Chrissy were immediately spotted by Dr. Lenny as he stumbled up to them with a beer in one hand and a slut hanging off his other arm. He couldn't've passed a roadside sobriety test if his best huntin' dawg's life depended on it.
"Howdy, ladies," the smilin' drunken doctor greeted. "Wanna beer?" he offered. "They have the best on tap." Pointing toward the crowded bar, slinging beer all over Uhura and Chrissy's best high heels.
If looks could turn a man into dawg dung, McCoy would have littered the floor by now. "Where is the rest of the huntin' party?" asked Chrissy as she scanned the noisy, smoked filled room.
"I reckon they're over at the bar, sweetie," replied McCoy, nodding his head toward the bar and then laying a wet one on the slut's brightly painted cheek. The women found their men, Jimmy Tom and Spock, leaning against the bar while two tramps rubbed up against them.
Jimmy Tom had his Skoal ball cap tipped up high on his forehead as he sipped on his Miller Genuine Draft as his other hand groped the tramp's ass. He belched and they laughed at his manliness. Mr. Spock, on the other hand, literally had both hands full with a slender blonde's double Ds as the tramp sucked on his pointed right ear.
Suddenly, the sounds of two shotguns firing sent the bar's patronage under tables and diving behind the bar for cover as splintered wood, chunks of sheet rock and dust rained down from the ceiling. Jimmy Tom and Spock slowly peeked from the bar as the jukebox began playing Kitty Wells' "It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels." What they saw scared them.
In the doorway stood their women holding two smoking shotguns and they didn't look none too happy. Jimmy Tom eased further over the bar. "Hey, Sweetgums, what's the matter ..." He didn't get any farther as Uhura shot a round into the mirror and glasses just over Jimmy Tom's head, sending him diving back under the bar.
Figuring that he was the most logical of the two, Spock believed he could talk some sense into Chrissy, so he stood up from behind the bar with the slender blonde in tow.
Chrissy eyed Spock as he slowly stood up from behind the bar. This was getting interesting, she thought. She knew Spock enough to know he would try to talk his way out the situation. He called it Logic, she called it Bull Shit. She laid her shotgun aside while Uhura kept hers aimed on target.
But before he could get a logical word in edgewise, the slender, blonde double D spoke first. "Hiya," she greeted in a perky voice that immediately grated on Miss Chrissy's already jumpy nerves. "I'm Leila Kalomi, the botanist here on Southern IV." The blonde botanist walked up to Miss Chrissy extending her hand out toward her as to shake her hand. Miss Chrissy only looked at the bontanist with an expression saying to 'eat shit and die, bitch.'
Leila nervously lowered her hand and looked back over her shoulder and giggled at a very green Mr. Spock. "What'cha doin' with my man, you damn bimbo?" asked Miss Chrissy, sounding as if acid dripped from her lips.
"Your man?" Leila asked, again looking over her shoulder at Mr. Spock who was turning greener by the moment -- if that was possible. "Well, me and Spock knew each other in Confederate Academy when I was studying botany and he was studying me ... leaves. And when he drove into town I knew he would be interested in a new plant I'm cultivating here on Southern IV."
Miss Chrissy was not impressed nor convinced. "The only plant I saw him cultivating is far from new and it looked like your pussy willow."
Mr. Spock mentally and physically cringed when he heard Miss Chrissy spat out those words. He knew it "was on." Jimmy Tom slouched further under the bar waiting for the first chair to be thrown before he stuck out his head for a look. He was just thankful that Miss Uhura hadn't laid into his ass -- yet.
Leila's eyes widened to Confederate half dollars and her skin turned the shade of a radish. She had her hand raised to strike the daisy duke clad woman when Miss Chrissy surprised her with a Bitch Slap on the side of her head. Leila flew across the room, landing on top of a table. The men and women hiding under it scrambled out from under before it collapsed on top of them. Suddenly the room crowded around the two fueding women screaming, "fight, fight, fight."
Jimmy Tom and Mr. Spock had bet a hundred Confederate dollars on Miss Chrissy. Mr. Spock did not partake in gambling, finding it illogical. But when it involved his Missus he found it totally logical to bet on a sure thing. Another sure thing was that after this was all over his ass was gonna be grass after Miss Chrissy got through with him.
* * *
The crowd in the small bar had yelled themselves into a drunken frenzy. The floor was sticky with beer and the place was smashed to hell. The jukebox kept repeating a song by Kitty Wells "I Don't Claim to be an Angel." It seemed to be appropriate for the situation. Mr. Spock suspected the jukebox had sustained heavy damage after Miss Chrissy had flung Leila by the hair of her head into it.
Miss Chrissy was bleeding from several cuts on her forehead she received when Leila smashed a beer mug on her head. Her right ear was bleeding and mangled after Leila had taken a beer bottle opener combination cork screw to it. Her lower lip was cut and bled profusely from a lucky punch.
Leila didn't look none better with large patches of hair missing, a blackened eye and her nose bleeding and rearranged after Miss Chrissy had shoved a beer bottle up her left nostril. Her teeth were tipped and loose after being slammed into the edge of the bar. But Leila was about to get the upper hand, or so she thought.
* * *
Leila had Miss Chrissy by the head with both arms, tightly cutting off all circulation to the brain. The drunken crowd roared, egging the woman on. But Miss Chrissy had been in worse spots before and wasn't about to let some snooty bitch get the best of her. She edged her mouth to the nearest Double D and bit down hard. The sight was not pretty at all, but effective. Leila immediately let go and grabbed herself as she screamed in horror, fearing that her silicon bag had been compromised. Miss Chrissy and Miss Uhura could only smirk with satisfaction as they watched the bitch-ass-ho' flee from the bar holding her Double Cs.
* * *
Miss Chrissy gargled with mouthwash and spat into the clinic sink. She was still trying to get the taste of silicon out of her mouth. She looked up and eyed her handy work in the mirror. With Dr. Lenny hung over and held up in the bathroom, she had to stitch up the cuts on her forehead and the mangled ear herself. She didn't think she'd done an half bad job.
Jimmy Tom and Mr. Spock leaned against one of the treatment tables, eyeing her backside. Miss Uhura walked into the room from checking on the doctor and slapped Jimmy Tom on the side of his head, knocking his John Deere ball cap off his head.
"How is he, Miss Uhura?" asked Miss Chrissy.
"Oh, he's gonna be fine ... after he shits himself raw for the next week. He'll bring new meaning to being an 'ass wipe.'"
Miss Chrissy frowned. "Dr. Lenny, the dumb ass, should've knowd that Miss Leila 'the titty bitch' Kalomi's special homemade brownies were loaded with her new cultivated plant."
"Yeah, marijuanie," replied Miss Uhura. "Plus, drinkin' all that beer too."
"Eeeeeooo-wie," Miss Chrissy responded with a cringe.
"Of course, our boyfriends were none too bright neither with their dippin' Miss Titty Bitch's special 'Green Man' toe-baccie," Miss Uhura spat as she slapped the John Deere ball cap off of Jimmy Tom's head again.
"We honestly didn't know it was marijuanie, Sweetgums," pleaded Jimmy Tom as he placed his cap back on his head.
"We honestly deduced that Miss Tit ... ahhh ... Miss Kalomi packaged the chewing tobacco to sell in the Vulcan markets," Mr. Spock logically argued.
Miss Chrissy's bull shit meter immediately went off like a rocket. "Never you mind your bull shit, I just want my winnin's." She and Miss Uhura held out their open hands to the startled men.
The men suddenly stood up straight from leaning against the treatment table, trying to look clueless. "We's don't knowd what ya talkin' about?" replied Jimmy Tom.
"Listen, I ain't gonna argue with you two boys," explained Miss Chrissy. "I knowd you two bet on me in the fight and won big, so up chuck the winnin's. Me and Miss Uhura have plans for the money. Y'all two would just spend it on somethin' stupid like the fights, racin' or fantasy football."
"You of all people would know, Miss Chrissy, that I find betting, and gambling in general, very illogical..." Mr. Spock tried to explain.
"If y'all don't give up the winnin's peaceful like, me and Miss Uhura are gonna take a dull kitchen knife to y'alls peckers, ya understand me?"
The two men quickly began taking large wads of Confederate bills from their pants pockets and giving it to the women, who in turn stuffed it in their brassieres.
* * *
Mr. Spock found the whole experience humiliating, but Miss Chrissy insisted that rubbing his ears and then kissing their tips brought her good luck, and at this point in time he was not at liberty to argue with her illogic. Suddenly from the room crowded with women, Miss Chrissy jumped up from her folding chair beside him yelling, "BINGO!"