The real party is in my pants but you are invited to the one in my fucking sickbay for starters

Got a message from 'Fleet command today, looking for Pike and what the hell is he doing and blah blah Empire business blah.

Uhura handled it before Chekov could flub it. Those two are turning into a dangerous pair. I've had three castrations to, well, it ain't like you can re-attach that shit when it's been pulverized. Chekov does some dirty fucking work, man. Good kid.

Other than that, ain't nothing going down. I figured we'd be seeing hell and weird shit after that whole scene in the brig but Enterprise has been quiet lately and Kirk is hanging on just as tight as he can to keeping his breathing and his beating fucking heart inside his fucking body.

Time to bust out some music, I think. Make the nurses dance a bit. It ain't easy to shake your fucking ass to Tom Waits but that ain't exactly my fucking problem, now is it?

Hey, yo, Billcakes, you should read this:

Listen, I fuck things up with your boy Chompers? I ain't fond of how he's making you feel fucking bad. But you say he's okay with it, I accept that.

Obviously, he's got some sort of problem with me but I ain't interested in wrecking your damn home. So you want me to lay off you some or all of the shitting way, you say the word.