UPF CHAPTER XXXII: "CHRONOTEMPORALPHASEDISTORTION"
Written by Darth "Ron Mexico" Fanboy
Cleaned up and Expanded by Mark "Saint LeMay" Sheppard to
include even more insanity.
Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends
We're so glad you could attend
Come inside! Come inside!
There behind a glass is a real blade of grass
be careful as you pass.
Move along! Move along!
Come inside, the show's about to start
guaranteed to blow your head apart
Rest assured you'll get your money's worth
The greatest show in Heaven, Hell or Earth.
You've got to see the show, it's a dynamo.
You've got to see the show, it's rock and roll ....
The Asskicker, somewhere in Zeonic Space....
"We're fucking dead! I knew it!" shouted Falkenhorst, his face turning purple
as he screamed bloody murder as the Asskicker
shook and shuddered under weapons
"Shep, you fucking dipshit, the next time we follow up on that pothead's "leads",
make sure that fucking braindead sonuvabitch isn't out of his mind on god knows
what! Nog, activicate the cloaking device! Lets get the fuck out of here!"
The other day, Fanboy had told his acquaintances in porn of a magical water fountain
full of nymphomaniac sluts who would fuck for free on camera, found only on the
planet Coedicus III. The story was made even more plausible by the fact that Coedicus
was home to a great university which had students from all over the galaxy, even Idaho.
Unfortunately for our smutlords when they arrived at the designated coordinates, they
found that it wasn't Coedicus III, but the Zeonic colony of Smithia. To make matters
worse, Smithia was home to the modern day version of Smith College, the Sophia Smith
Military Academy, one of the largest all-female universities in human history.
After the failed panty raid by the Pirate Lord Spanky which had been foiled by Admiral
Mayabird, and the theft of the prized Butter Cow, the Zeonic military had been on high alert,
waiting to rip into some testicles. They hadn't had to wait long, for after only ten
minutes on alert duty, the Asskicker
re-entered real space right smack in the
middle of a formation of D-7s, crewed by graduates fresh from anti-male indoctrination.
Palace of the Amazons - Zeon Prime
NOTE: Listening to THIS is mandatory during the speeches of the Great Leaderess. HAIL ZEON!
The massive building towered into the nighttime sky of Zeon Prime as a symbol of womanly
might, 300 meters high, topped by a hundred meter high statue of the Goddess of Liberty,
completely naked, and in one hand, holding a pair of severed testicles and penis, the other
holding a massive stainless steel sword which also acted as a lightning rod for the entire
complex, and also caused really cool lightning shows during thunderstorms. This was the Duchy
of Zeon's capital building, ordered by the Duchess upon her seizure of power as a way of
disposing of captured men. It was said that each meter of the building had been built with
the lives of a thousand men...at least.
Inside one of the many grand meeting rooms inside the monolith of feminist power, The
Duchess was giving a speech on the theft of the Butter Cow to her handpicked apparatachik,
who controlled the Duchy through a secret police which was everywhere.
The Duchess picked up a glass of water, took a sip, and began her speech.
"The theft of the Butter Cow while important, is merely a sign of the stresses between
our feminist state and the male dominated hierarchies surrounding us. Several Sisters
have asked in public whether it is not possible to slow down our tempo of militarization,
that we are losing sight of what makes us women and superior to men."
"No, Sisters, it is not possible! The tempo must not be reduced! On the contrary, we
must increase it as much as is within our powers and possibilities. This is dictated
to us by our obligations to the women of the galaxy! This is dictated to us by our
obligations to those who suffer under male domination!"
As soon as the Duchess finished the last word, the entire room erupted in enthuastic
cheers. After raising her hand and holding it for several minutes to acknowledge the
cheers, she pushed a hidden button on her podium, which in turn activicated a little
red light which was discreetly placed out of sight from the cameras which were
recording this event for the public.
This was the symbol for everyone to stop clapping and applauding, and had been installed
on the Duchess' orders after a disastrous speech earlier in her reign when everyone had
refused to stop clapping; making her speech run over by several hours.
When everyone had stopped clapping, she took another sip of water and resumed her speech.
"To slacken the tempo would mean falling behind. And those who fall behind get beaten.
But we do not want to be beaten. No, we refuse to be beaten! One feature of the history
of womankind is the continual beatings she has suffered because of her biological
She was beaten by Kennedies! She was beaten by Clintons! She was beaten by Hefners! She
was beaten by Flynts! She was beaten by the Berias and Kims! All beat her because of her
weakness. They beat her because she could not fight back! They beat her because to do so
was profitable and could be done with impunity.
That is why we must no longer lag behind!"
Once again, the chamber erupted into cheers. The Duchess took the time to drink some
more water before pressing the button once more.
"In the past we had no motherland, nor could we have one. But now that we have overthrown
the men and power is in our hands, in the hands of womankind, we have a motherland, and
we will defend its independence. Do you want our motherland to be beaten and to lose
its independence? If you do not want this you must put an end to its backwardness in
the shortest possible time and develop a geniuine Sisterhood in building up its economy and
There is no other way!"
Still more loud cheers. She definitely had this audience on it's feet, although she
couldn't really tell, due to everyone clapping out of fear. The Duchess made a mental
note to have the Society of Hecate check out everyone in this room and their political
"We are fifty or a hundred years behind the advanced nations! We must make good this
distance in ten years. Either we do it, or we shall be crushed!"
With that concluding sentence, the Duchess strode off the podium and into her inner
chambers. Her assistant, a woman known only by the name of Pick was waiting for her.
"Milady, we have recieved word from Smithia that they are pursuing a rogue D-7 whose
appearances fits that of the ship used by the Porn crimelords Sheppard and Falkenhorst."
"Excellent. Put me in contact with the task force commander as soon as possible. I
shall take the call from my desk."
The Asskicker, floating dead in space under silent running
had barely escaped being pounded to dust after it's inital arrival
smack dab in the middle of a Zeonic task force, due to the quick actions of Nog, who
as a Ferengi was adept in the art of running away like a coward.
After activating the cloaking device and both GM-1 and MW-50 boost on the impulse
engines to get away from the middle of the enemy formation as fast as possible, the
peddlers of porn had fled to a nearby unnamed system. Hiding amongst the asteroids,
the plan was to lay low and eventually sneak away unhindered.
In the briefing room just behind the bridge, the two porn hustlers were arguing loudly
over what had just transpired, and who was to blame for this collossal fuckup.
"It was a chance we had to take, or did you already forget about how badly you fucked
up the last time we needed to hire actresses?"
"ANYONE would have thought those were women, how the fuck was I supposed to know they
were dudes in those fucking disugises they had!" shouted Falkenhorst, as he put a hand
on his pistol.
"Well for starters, you should have noticed their giant fucking adam's apples, you
Both crimelords drew their pistols in an instant, both seeking to kill each other
in a fit of rage when the entire ship shuddered. Someone was firing on them.
"Nog!" screamed Falk, "How the fuck did they find us?"
Bridge of the ZSS Eunuchizer, 15 minutes ago
"Commander Zaia! We've lost them!" shouted the young Ensign Lindar at her station,
wearing the tight jeans uniform common amongst women in this task force. Zaia had
assumed command of the Smith Academy flotilla shortly after her returning, a reward
from the Duchess for successfully assassinating Janeway.
She now had first pick out of all of the hot academy students and graduates, life was
beginning to look really good. But the theft of the legendary Butter Cow had put all
of the military on high alert, its creamy udder now in the possession of some male fiend,
Many a cloaked ship had been able to escape into the dense asteroid fields along the
Zeon border regions, but Zaia was a skilled hunter, and her prey had a distinct scent.
"Give me the registration number on that ship", Zaia commanded. "Ma'am, the ship is
registered to one Robb Cape Verde, owner and proprietor of the Vega IX Meat Processing
The name sounded suspicious to Zaia.
"Run that name through the Reverse Ron Mexico name generator immediately."
Many underworld degenerates in need of a new alias looked to the Ron Mexico name
generator in order to create the ultimate disguise, however Zeon technology was
so advanced that they could run a name through a reverse generator.
If in fact the alias was a product of the Ron Mexico name generator, the real name
would be determined.
"I have a result, one Mark Sheppard."
Zaia's eyes widened, he was one of the men she met on the Gnomish Asteroid prior
to assinating Darth Garden Gnome. The ensign continued "Running that name through
our database gives us a match. Mark Sheppard is wanted for 673,212 counts of
Exploiting Women, each one of them carrying a minimum sentence of fifty years and
castration. A known associate, Falkenhorst, is rumored to have over 750,000 counts
against him, Including several counts of third-degree defilement."
Zaia's eyes narrowed, these guys weren't just scum, but they were big time prey.
The bigger the prey the more complicated and dangerous the hunt became. These
guys were professionals, there was no way to track them, unless....
"I want a full sensor sweep of the area, search for any amount of Tetrahydrocannabinol."
When the group had parted ways aboard the Asteroid, Zaia had noticed the hulking
mercenary who had aided Sheppard and Falkenhorst in their escape, he reeked of
It was a long shot, but THC was an incredibly easy chemical to track after the
advanced privacy invading technology was developed during the Second Ashcroft War
in the 22nd century on Earth. After a few minutes, a nameless but shapely Lieutenant
responded from her station. "Mistress Zaia! We have a heavy concetration of THC,
putting it on screen now. The viewscreen of space became inted green as the THC
tracking system began taking effect. Suddenly, in perfect view, was the outline
of a refitted D7, its ventilation system completely saturated with THC, heavily
concentrated in one section of the ship.
"Lock onto that ship and fire, but remember ladies we need to capture that ship!
If the butter cow is indeed aboard then we can't afford to blow it up! Open a
"Son of a bitch! THAT'S how they're tracking us?" shouted Sheppard, fighting
the urge to find Fanboy and put a fucking bullet into his brain.
"That's right, Boss, Fanboy's potsmoke has circulated throughout the ship so
much that the cloaking device is useless. We're sitting ducks like this!"
muttered Nog, hitting the now-useless cloaking device control panel.
The ship was hit again and Nog reflexively winced, expecting the console
to explode in his face. Fortunately for him and the crimelord's minions,
's control panels were of much safer designs than the
Federation tech most of them were used to, with a magical newfangled
invention called the "surge suppressor" being integral to every circuit.
The cloak dropped, with the smell of bacon frying. Apparently the jury
rigged bypass involving some strips of bacon to replace damaged relays
that they couldn't replicate had failed. To top it all off, the shields
weren't coming back on-line.
"Get us out of here! Decoy pattern Trojan!" shouted Sheppard, as he slammed
into his seat and buckled the seatbelt. It was a damn shame to waste their
stock of condoms, but it was better than being castrated by Zeons.
The ZSS Eunuchizer
"Milady, we're detecting a spread of...condoms from the enemy ship! Slowing
down to avoid sucking them into our engine cooling intakes!"
Zaia cursed at this latest ploy to avoid rightful justice by the crimelords.
"Belay that command! Fire forward disruptor banks at maximum spread; we'll vaporize
"Milady, we're getting a transmission from Zeon Prime!" shouted their communications
"Not now!" muttered Zaia. Damn bureaucrats always interfered just as she was closing
in for the kill...
"Milady, it's from the Office of the Duchess!"
Zaia groaned at that. Why now? "Put her on."
"Fuck! Way to waste our prime stock of rubbers, asshole!" shouted Falkenhorst
as he watched Sheppard's flimsy plan fall to pieces before their eyes as the
condoms were vaporized. "Nog! Get us the fuck outta here!"
"I'm trying, boss, but the warp field generator is damaged, I'm not sure
we can safely engage it!"
"Fuck this shit!" shouted Falk as he stormed over to Nog's station and threw the
big-eared dopeball out of his seat. "I don't think we fuckin' asked you nicely",
shouted Falk as he slammed his fist down on the console and began powering up the
Just then, Seppo started shouting from his communications station, interrupting
the chaos on the bridge.
"Hey boss, wees getting a call from the dames on the lead ship. Sez she knows youse guys,
sez her name is Zye-ya or something like that."
Sheppard and Falkenhorst both looked straight up and shouted in unison.
"PUT HER ON!"
"Sheppard and Falkenhorst, I presume?" asked the beautiful, yet vicious assassin
from the Duchy.
"She's just as beautiful as ever!" muttered Sheppard.
"Keep your dick tucked in Shep, this dame was just trying to kill us."
"I've just recieved orders priority one from the Duchess. For your efforts in bringing
quality sapphic erotica to the citizens of the state, you are hereby pardoned of all
sex crimes past and present in the Principality of Zeon by order of the Duchess herself.
However, if you have indeed stolen the holy artifact, then I am still authorized to
enforce the worse-than-death penalty."
The two smutlords looked at each other, puzzled.
"Do you know what the fuck she's talking about?"
"I dunno, I figured you would though." replied Shep.
"Hey babe, we got nothing to hide over here, you can scan our ship all you want, but
we don't have any butter cows over here." added Falk in his best pickup voice,
trying to influence the woman on the screen before them.
Zaia looked over at her sensor officer, who had a reply before the question had
been asked. "He's not lying. I've scanned the entire thing twice and there are only
trace dairy products, a few contraband bottles of premium betazed breast milk,
looks like the good stuff too, and about three small bricks of Romulan goat cheese
but thats it."
Zaia didn't question the results of the eerily precise scan but she knew that porn
dealers could never be trusted. "Sheppard, our sensor scans have confirmed your
statements but I will be beaming over for a visual inspection."
Falkenhorst was visibly irritated at this and shouted "You can visually inspect my co.....",
before Sheppard suddenly slugged him. After shaking his hand to ward off the pain, Sheppard
turned to face the viewscreen. "Sure! Come on over!"
The screen switched off with an image of Sheppard turning around to kick someone on
the floor, obviously Falkenhorst. Zaia turned to her weapons officer, Lusankya.
"If anything happens to me, make sure each and every man on board that ship loses
Shortly afterwards, Zaia was in a shuttlecraft heading for the Asskicker's
shuttlebay, and upon arriving, she found that the on-duty shuttlebay officer was
an incoherent drunk who appeared to be sleeping on a pile of broken glass and
dog-eared pornography magazines.
Zaia slowly approached the man and read his name tag, it read: "Hi My Name Is: Consequences"
An odd name, but then again nothing about this particular crew was exactly normal,
in fact it was surprising that aside from the near-leathal amounts of bongsmoke
cycling through the ship it was quite functional.
Unslinging the old Martini Henry rifle she had been given as a child, Zaia began to
walk through the corridors of the ship. Since the seizure of power by the Duchess,
every Zeonic child was given upon age 12 one of these rifles with the orders to care
for as if it were her own child.
Since then, many jokes had been told about Zeonic women and their phallic firearms, but
any jester who dared tell such a joke within earshot of one of these women always
learned the hard way about what it meant to fuck with a Zeon. One shot from this weapon
was all it took to render a humanoids brain into worthless bits of spongy and unassorted
Zaia's rifle even had a name, "The Vagina Demagogue".
She poked at the unconscious man a few times, but got nothing other than a few snorts
and feeble attempts to wave away the poking device. Suddenly she heard footsteps
pounding down the hallway outside the shuttlebay, and she readied herself for an attack.
Could they be this stupid?
Suddenly the footsteps stopped and the doors opened slowly, stopping halfway with a
squeal of rusted metal, before a pair of hands appeared in the doorway and pushed
the recalitrant doors apart. "Fucking piece of shit, last time I buy something used
from a bunch of Klingon bastards..."
Zaia found herself facing down Sheppard, who was obviously out of breath, panting after
the run from the bridge and forcing the doors open. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said
as he wiped a twinge of sweat from his brow.
"If you'll follow me the cargo hold is this way."
Zaia looked at him with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. Was he actually hitting on
After about twenty meters of walking through the Asskicker
, Zaia had already
Newspapers littered the floors, covering stains fresh and old alike. The mess hall
was infested with what appeared to be large cockroaches. Upon seeing the cockroaches
scuttling across the deck, Sheppard pulled out a disruptor from under his jacket and
blasted two of the larger ones while pretending he hadn't seen anything.
"Would you care for anything?"
Zaia's stomach tied itself in a knot that would make Gordian blush.
"No thanks, just take me to the cargo hold."
They continued moving along until Zaia spotted something suspicious.
"What's that?" she asked as she pointed at a corridor where some wallpaper had been
put up. It was quite obvious where the metallic wall ended and the thin paper began.
Sheppard answered nervously. "Um, I have no idea...The cargo hold is this way!"
Zaia ignored Sheppard and used the barrel of her rifle to tear away the paper, which
revealed a door. Zaia opened to door and nearly fell to the floor as the bongsmoke
rolled out of the room.
"WHAT THE FUCK? Is this some sort of biological weapon?" shouted Zaia as she fought
the halluciogenic effects of the THC, which was appearing in levels previously unrecorded
by Zeonic instruments.
The smoke billowed out into the hallway and in the haze Zaia spotted a large man eating
a mushroom about the size of his head. Judging by the color and pattern o the fungi, it
was a Cardassian Learyshroom, one of the most intense psychotropic drugs in the Alpha
and Beta Quadrants. Sheppard quickly closed the door. "That's Fanboy's room, he's
just a hired hand who we owe a lot of money too that's all. Nothing in there worth
looking for, uhhh, what was it you said you needed again?"
"Several days ago our most precious holy artifact was stolen. The sacred Butter
Cow of Zeon, whose creamy udder and sublime teats gave life to the female race."
"We were searching for the culprits when your ship illegally intruded on our space by
appearing right in the middle of our task force."
Sheppard whistled nervously and tugged at his collar.
"Well ummm, see ah, we were about to make a delivery! I apologize for not making
contact sooner but we figured you'd appreciate the..."
"Spare me the bullshit! We've gone over this entire ship almost and we haven't
seen one pallet of export quality porn! You're almost as stupid as those idiots
who believe in the Coedicus planet of the naked horny college girls!"
Sheppard clenched his fist, and silently promised to himself that Fanboy would
be brutally murdered in some way if they survived this.
"Well I can assure you we don't have any butter cows."
"We'll see about that...take me to the main cargo bay or your testicles will be sold
as fish bait."
With that, Zaia aimed the Martini Henry right at Shep's face, and began nudging him along.
They entered the cargo bay, only to find it half full with a large refrigerating unit
taking up most of the occupied space, next to a few garbage bags full of Trill Soup Mix.
The refrigerating unit looked large enough to house the butter cow, and Zaia immediately
became suspicious. She opened the door and walked in, finding nothing more than a rack
of bottles full of a white subtance. She picked one up and uncorked the bottle, then
she sniffed it. It was in fact, the Betazoid breastmilk that her officer had informed
her of back on her ship. Zaia raised the bottle to her lips and slugged down about half
of the bottle in one satisfying chug.
"Mmmmm, This is a thirty eight isn't it?"
Sheppard raised his hand in protest. "Are you kidding me? First of all that bottle costs
about three hundred bars of latinum, secondly we just bottled it two days ago."
Zaia snickered as she dook another long drink. "I meant thirty eight double D silly."
Sheppard laughed, she had not been referring to the vintage, but of the size of the
breast from which the milk had been squeezed.
"I didn't know you could tell just by tasting."
Zaia nodded her head. "Most people can't, it's one of my innate talents."
Sheppard adjustied his jacket and pulled out a cigar from one of his pockets.
"Do you have any other 'innate talents' I should know about?" he said as he lit
his cigar using a gold plated Zippo.
"Actually I do," replied Zaia. "I can shoot off the tip of a penis with this
rifle here from over a hundred meters out from almost a kilometer."
"I'll be leaving now."
Just then the ship rocked as if it were under heavy fire.
"Hey tell those cunts on your ship to lay off!" yelled Sheppard as the ship began
shaking even more violently.
"You idiot! This isn't torpedo fire at all!"
Zaia grabbed her communicator and tried to hail her ship but to no avail.
Suddenly, over the Asskicker
's intercom, Falkenhorst started screaming and cursing.
"Shep! If you're done pulling that shit with that woman, get your ass to the bridge
RIGHT FUCKING NOW! We're in trouble!"
Shep and Zaia raced to the bridge, bracing themselves against the wall as the ship
continued to be handled like a jittery Altar Boy.
When they finally reached the bridge, Nog and Falk were occupying two consoles, going
over the readouts on the screens as if they were watching a disaster unfold.
Suddenly another alarm went off.
Falk turned to Shep and cracked his knuckles.
"About five minutes ago things started going to shit and suddenly the Lesbo ship
disappeared completely off our screens. At first I thought they had cloaked or
something, but the sensor readings didn't look right. Nog over there meanwhile
was trying to hack a few closed circuit security channels on the planet hoping
to see some bush when suddenly THOSE cut out too."
Zaia resisted shooting everyone on the bridge and started going over the screen,
before long she had pushed Falk aside and started punching buttons.
"Something's wrong, none of the Zeon Preemptive Defense Network frequencies are
online either. And the population of Smithia has nearly tripled!"
Zaia scanned the planet further, "Oh my Goddess! They're all less than four feet tall!"
Suddenly another alarm went off and Nog started screaming.
"That's the proximity alarm," Nog yelped.
"Two Cubes coming out of warp right behind us!"
Shep felt the urge to panic in a big way. Even with the Asskicker's
defensive suite and the fact that none of them were lobotomized retards like the
Federation's crews were, two cubes were no easy thing to deal with.
"The Borg?" he asked. Nog shook his head.
"Bioscans are inconsistent with Borg lifesigns. They may be Borg cubes, but they
aren't being crewed by Borg." Falkenhorst lit a cigarette and slammed his fist down
on the console.
"Then who the fuck is it Nog!"
Just then an image appeared on the forward screen. All the beleaguered crew
of the Asskicker
could see was the top of a red pointy hat.
"Is this thing on? Oh! Fuck point the camera down you retard! Ok....." came a small
squeaky voice. "We are the Gnomes! Resistance is Gay! You will beam over and service
Shep and Falk looked at each other as Zaia narrowed her gaze at the Gnome on the
viewscreen, who had put his fingers into a V and was now flicking his tongue
"It makes sense," she said.
"Somehow the Gnomes have not only managed to defeat the Borg, but the Principality
as well! We can only assume that somehow the Gnomes have conquered the universe!"
"Sensor logs show that about five seconds before the ship started shaking a massive
ChronoTemporalDistortionPulseField showed up everywhere out sensor could reach."
"Somebody traveled through time, in a big fucking way. But how come we weren't affected?"
Falk said as he began loading his .357 Magnum.
"It must be the sheer volume of potsmoke in the ship. Normally it would dissipate but
in an enclosed environment like this it has just about saturated everything in here
with some sort of anti-Chronoton property!" Zaia said, using technobabble that would
make a Federation officer blush.
"In other words our ship is too fucking stoned to be affecting by the reality changing
event. Remind me when this is all over to eject Fanboy into some godforsaken nebula
near the galactic edge." cursed Sheppard.
"In the meantime we have to get the fuck out of here NOW! Find ourself a nice
little uncharted system and live the rest of our lives on the lam."
"Oh no we aren't!", Zaia said in her authoritative boss-lady voice.
"On the authority of the Principality of Zeon, I hereby commandeer this vessel
for the stated purpose of Temporal Restoration for the Preservation of the
Falkenhorst started laughing. "That's a good one! Fucking time travel?
Listen we don't HAVE that kind of equipment, you think that the mess of us
in this antiquated ship can travel through time? I might not be a physicist
but I restored this ship from the frame up and let me fucking tell you there
ain't no way we are travelling through time!"
Zaia raised her rifle at Falkenhorst's head and shot the cigarette he was smoking
out of his mouth.
"There's only one way to find out..."