to think IPOAT gels will never marry well if they continue to be so fast?

[CaptainHornblower]

Gin, you say?

I set the transporter to beam me down to Planet Apia but I must have put the wrong coordinates in for I am now stuck here

I have sent a distress signal to The Commander. I hope his phaser is fully loaded.

Save me several pangalactic gargleblasters please, ladies.

The Commander is otherwise occupied.

Who will rescue me now?

Fiderer, I met a charming chap on the way here that I could send your way? He has a large weapon and a twinkle in his eye. Any good for you?

So kind Sybs, but I remember now that just before we left the space port I met a charming captain in the bar mess and he said I should send word if I needed help.

Could you please send him an intergalactic PM? Address is: "[email protected]"

I got him on the video phone Fids. He's be with you as soon as he has found his uniform.

Thanks, if he can't find his uniform he can come like this
Tell him to bring Captain Jack.

Hmm, knowing Captain Jack as I do may I suggest that you re-think that? Picard will be knackered a bit tired and no use to you by the time they get there.

My reference to Cap'n Jack earlier "Yes I know but look at his time-travel-thingy" means I know he's omnisexual so aliens may well attract his attention but I think he'd rescue a gel first.

Picard tired? Hmm, good thing I asked for Jack as back-up.

methinks you have a 'thang' for the dashing cap'n Miss Fids.
I now have the original recipe for the <a class="break-all" href="http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?q=pangalactic+gargleblaster&hl=en&client=firefox-a&sa=G&rls=org.mozilla:en-GB:official&biw=1272&bih=608&gbv=2&tbm=isch&tbnid=NsUEMtAahiBlzM:&imgrefurl=markarayner.com/vintageads/&docid=M-pthi1Ektvg8M&imgurl=markarayner.com/images-10/va-pangalactic.jpg&w=1073&h=1531&ei=YmegToeIOci18QOrjLH8BQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=568&vpy=226&dur=6969&hovh=268&hovw=188&tx=104&ty=194&sig=103362630470746556348&page=9&tbnh=121&tbnw=85&start=171&ndsp=23&ved=1t:429,r:3,s:171" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Pangalactic Gargleblaster, and my what a surprize, it does indeed involve gin, albeit a multidimenional version. Do pull up a suspended animation pod and take a sip

I do, Mistress Mini, I do. Also for Cap'n Picard. And Commander Chakotay.
Well this inter-planetary malarkey is time-consuming as well as timey-wimeyly tricky.
Best to have more than one bow to yer arrow I say.

Or is it the other way around - arrow to yer bow? Or more topically, best have more than one nanoblaster to yer phaser?
What it lacks in poetry and historical accuracy it makes up for in galactic firestorm capability.

Errr?

Hully what is this vengeance, what has happened to the love baton?

Violence and vengeance?

Hully?

Fear not fair Space Maidens! Tis the Vengeance of Love and Righteousness! Wrongs are being righted and the evil doers smited so that there may be peace on all worlds and throughout the space time continuum

Er .. Has Jim been at you with his health-ometer? . No matter, drink this ,'tis but a calming posset,

Oh, I fear I've lost my heart to a starship trouper... Hey, <a class="break-all" href="http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?q=science+fiction+captain&um=1&hl=en&client=safari&tbo=d&tbm=isch&tbnid=nRkA8P-dGwd4cM:&imgrefurl=wisb.blogspot.com/2010/08/michio-kaku-meme-thoughts-on-world-of.html&docid=dlCKIrt5qpjskM&imgurl=geeksofdoom.com/GoD/img/2009/10/2009-10-27-captain_malcolm_reynolds.jpg&w=350&h=250&ei=u72hTsrjO82Y8gPXtcnkBQ&zoom=1&biw=1024&bih=690" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Captain Strange won't you be my lover? would you like a posset?

I have heard that there is a nearby planet where the inhabitants wear crinolines and sip possets all day, while tatting, their culture needs preserving. I am sure we could get past the storm troopers . We could send Hully to reci

Shut the fuck up you snivelling bunch of fannies

Goodness shtevie, you have quite dropped your Flowery Goodness.

I believe dropping one's handkerchief is more usual... Are you, perchance, in need of a posset, dear shtevie?

Invasion of a Frothing Beserker?

Oh Miss Fids, let us administer tisanes and possets until the troubled soul is entirely drowned and departed.