Displaced Spock-Writer's Cramp Entry

    I was so late. I didn’t get my costume until the last sugar sucking minute. I specifically told that woman how important it was to have the alterations done on time. You see, I’d lost a little weight since I discovered Caridoke, (That’s cardio and karaoke.) and I asked to have the waist taken in a bit. Well, she washed it too. WASHED IT!! So now it’s too small. But it’s all I have so I’ll have to make due. That’s the last time I let my mother get her hands on my precious Authentic Starfleet Academy uniform.
    “Darren, come on. We’re going to be late.” I yelled up to my older brother.
    “I’m not going! You didn’t tell me I had to wear this shit. I look like an idiot!”
    “Dude, everybody is going love that uniform. Believe me, everyone wants to be Spock,” I said as I walked up the stairs. When I got to the bathroom where he was changing, I was floored. He looked perfect. He looked exactly like my Lord and Savior…Captain Spock. I was jealous. I had wanted to be Spock, but the outfit was too small.
    “You look great! Oh, except one thing,” I said as I spotted a problem. “Where are your ears?”
    “Jackson, come on man. Don’t make me wear those.”
    I couldn’t believe all the whining he was doing. He was starting to get on my nerves.
    “Put on the effing ears you nerf-herder. We have to go!”
    With a pained look on his face, he grabbed the precious Spock appendages and headed down the stairs. I was close on his tail and ushered him right out the door when he tried to go and complain to our mother.
    I was so excited that I could hardly keep still in the car. My brother punched me in the arm, and while that would usually bring tears to my eyes, I barely noticed. We were going to the Star Trek Convention.
    When we finally pulled into the American Airlines Center which was holding the Convention, I was in awe. So much so, that I wanted to get down on my hands and knees and worship it. The Convention, not the Center. I controlled myself long enough to get my brother and I to the table that held our name tags and gift bags and then into where the action was. I was in heaven. There were Klingons, Cardassians, Romulans, The Borg, Betazoids, Ferengi. Someone had even managed to find a Horta costume! I couldn’t believe it.
    “Darren, can you believe this? I can’t get over how great this is. I never want to leave!”
    “You’re just about ready to take flight, aren’t you?” my brother asked me. I barely heard him though. I was too overwhelmed.
    “Jack, you want to sit down or something. You look like you are about to hyperventilate. Either that or come in your pants.”
    “Well, I would come in my pants, but I don’t have a spare,” I said smirking at the non-believer.
    “I don’t think anyone here would even notice. In fact, I’m sure there are a few other geeks, I’m sorry, I mean ‘guys’ that have a case of the sticky pants themselves.”
    “Shut up and let’s walk around some.”
    “I can’t believe I got roped into this. You need to learn how to drive Jackson. You’re 24 years old and don’t have a drivers license yet. You probably should think about moving out of mom’s house too.”
    I wasn’t paying any attention to his rant. I had my eyes trained on a group of Kirk’s and they seemed to be arguing about something. I walked over there so I could listen.
  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. The episode where they had to re-enact the gunfight at the OK corral is called ‘Spectre of the Gun’, not Scepter of The Gun. I guess the same aliens that took ‘Spock’s Brain’ got yours too,” Kirk no.1 said.
    “You would make reference to what has to be the worse Star Trek episode ever made Melvin, and it’s scepter, not spectre!” Kirk no.2 yelled.
    “No it isn’t!”
    “Yes it is!”
    “No it isn’t!”
    “Yes, it is!”

    “Looks like those Kirks are about to kill each other. Maybe I won’t be bored to tears after all,” Darren said to my horror. The two arguing Kirks turned to him.
    “Since you’re such a smart guy, why don’t you tell us. Which is it, Spectre or Scepter?”
    And then, my brother said something one never utters at a Star Trek Convention. He said…

    “How in the hell should I know? I’ve never watched Star Trek in my life.”

    I heard the collective gasps of over 3000 people, and then I fainted dead away.
    When I awoke a few minutes later, still on the blessed floor, it seemed as though the entire convention had merged over towards my brother. No one was really saying anything, but they were all looking at him like he was from the planet Triskelion. They’d never actually met anyone who hadn’t seen ‘The Trek’ before.
    Then, he walked over. The man himself. Leonard Nimoy. It was a good thing I was already on the floor because that way I didn’t have to go down very far to grovel at his feet.
    “Excuse me sir, did I hear right? Someone said that you claim to never have seen an episode of Star Trek.” Lord Nimoy said to my brother.
    “Uh, yeah, that’s right. Who the hell are you?”

    I heard the collective gasps of over 3000 people, and then I fainted dead away. Again.




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