DRAG TREK I: ESCAPE FROM THE PLANET OF THE UBER-DYKES (By Robin Tanamachi - rltanama@students.wisc.edu) OPENING TITLES: (Starry background with mysterious “Star Trek: TOS” theme prelude. As the voice-over proceeds, a plastic-and-tinfoil ship shaped like a handbag, sporting the letters “NCC-6969” and obviously supported by strings passes through the shot several times.) CAPTAIN RASHAUNA GLITTERMORE (VOICE OVER) Space: the fashion frontier. These are the voyages of the U.S.S. EnterPlease. Its five year-mission: To explore strange new malls. To seek out new window displays, and a line of uniforms that don’t catch on our navel rings. To shop where no drag queen has shopped before! (Music abruptly changes to pulsating techno) CG: “DRAG TREK I: ESCAPE FROM THE PLANET OF THE UBER-DYKES” “STARRING as CAPTAIN RASHAUNA GLITTERMORE” “ as COMMANDER PURSY MAXIME” “and as DOCTOR ANITA MANN” (Fade to black) SCENE I (The bridge of the U.S.S. EnterPlease. It resembles the bridge of the Enterprise except that there are flowers in place of various consoles and elaborate window dressings over the portals. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE sits in the center chair, which resembles a regal throne. COMMANDER PURSY MAXIME and DOCTOR ANITA MANN surround him along with a couple of other lieutenants at consoles, all dressed in ST:TOS female attire. As the initial voice-over proceeds, CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE is doing his nails.) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (VOICE OVER) Captain’s Log, Stardate… uh, eight. I still cannot believe that bitch back at the SpaceMall charged me fifty-eight uber-bucks for bikini wax. Not to mention that it gave me a really bad case of the puffies. What does she think I wear, for Christ’s sake, polyester? (A nameless YEOMAN walks into the shot and hands CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE a clipboard. He takes one look at it and drops the nail polish wand.) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (to YEOMAN) Honey, please tell me this is a bald-faced lie! (YEOMAN shakes his head) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (resignedly) Well, all right, girlfriend, just try to bring me better news next time, all right? Bzz-bzz! (CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE waves the YEOMAN away; YEOMAN exits. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE sits shaking his head in a very Kirk-like posture with one fist clenched, then deteriorates to the brink of tears.) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (VOICE OVER) Apparently Headquarters wants to reprimand us for charging 500 cases of Flaming Fuschia lipstick on a Star Fleet credit card. That color is just a bitch to find now; so we had to pounce on it when we found it! I tell you, it sure is tough being me. I’m in charge of the galaxy’s first ship run entirely by a transvestite crew. Just last week Star Fleet sent us a veritable mountain of new uniforms which were designed to make us look ‘more presentable’. What in God’s holy name am I going to do with 500 pairs of cargo pants? COMMANDER MAXIME (Somewhat Spock-like, deadpan but with the lisp) Captain? CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (playing with own hair) What is it, Commander Maxime? COMMANDER MAXIME Captain, we are approaching an M-class planet. You know what that means! I am detecting numerous life signs on the surface… all male. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (very interested) Oh, really? COMMANDER MAXIME Yes, Captain. Indications are that this is a very primitive planet. It appears that the civilization was very advanced at one time in history, but evidently some great disaster befell these pretty boys. Now there are no signs of any operational fashion-related infrastructure, no dance clubs, no strip malls, no Planet Hollywood. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (aghast) Oh my holy lord! Not even a single Bergstrom’s? COMMANDER MAXIME No, ma’am. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (rises from seat) Oh, this is horrible! These poor boys have degenerated back into a butch, caveman-like society! DOCTOR MANN Captain, if I may suggest… Perhaps we should go down and get these boys re-acquainted with style? CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE Excellent idea! Even if our mission fails, we’ll get to watch some muscular cavemen beating their…(dramatic pause) chests. Ooh! (to DOCTOR MANN) Doctor Mann, prepare a fashion transport pod for our dazzling little highnesses! DOCTOR MANN For Chrissake, Rashauna, I’m a doctor, not a valet! (Fade to black) SCENE II (A small, egg-shaped pod is ejected from the back of the EnterPlease. The pod sails down over a lake and lands in the middle of a forest. Cut to a shot of CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE, COMMANDER MAXIME, and DOCTOR MANN walking cautiously through the forest, Generic Ray Emitting Devices (GREDs) extended.) DOCTOR MANN (nervously) Jesus Christ, Captain, these thistles keep catching on my pantyhose! CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE Quiet, good Doctor! There’s dirty work afoot. (Something moves in the bushes) DOCTOR MANN What was that? Ooooh God, this is just giving me the worst vibes! COMMANDER MAXIME Captain, (everyone stops walking) I feel constrained to remind you that we must operate within the limits of La Prima Directiva. We’re here purely for the advancement of the species through non-culturally- destructive means. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE And observation, sister, and observation. DOCTOR MANN (concerned) Something’s just not right. I mean, I haven’t smelled a whiff of manly musk yet! CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (to DOCTOR MANN) You seem a little more antsy than usual. What gives, girl? COMMANDER MAXIME (staring off into space) I’m sensing the presence of several individuals nearby. But they’re all… all… DOCTOR MANN (screams and points, dropping GRED) Aaaahhh! (UBER-DYKE #1 is standing behind a bush with a staff in one hand. Sweeping shot reveals that there are several more UBER-DYKES surrounding them, all dressed in rustic attire (read: like the Amazons from “Xena: Warrior Princess”) equipped with war clubs and spears. The three SHIPMATES retreat into a defensive formation.) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (to camera) Curses! We didn’t land on an M-class planet after all! We’ve landed on the Planet of the Uber-Dykes!!! (UBER-DYKE #2 lands on CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE from above, knocking her down. The rest of the UBER-DYKES charge out of the bushes, emitting whooping war cries, and proceed to beat the three SHIPMATES unconscious as they flail and scream more than they try to defend themselves. At the last minute, CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE rises up and grabs UBER-DYKE #3 by the hair. UBER-DYKE #3 easily breaks the hair hold, turns and seizes CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE by the throat, lifting him several inches off the ground. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE chokes and thrashes, and then lets his head loll. UBER-DYKE #3 tosses CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE onto the ground. Cut to an out-of-focus shot looking upward at the faces of several UBER-DYKES. UBER-DYKE #1 leans into the shot holding a GRED, hestitates, and then strikes the camera with the butt of the GRED. Immediate blackout.) SCENE III (Fade in to a bonfire at night. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE, COMMANDER MAXIME, and DOCTOR MANN are sitting on the ground nearby, still unconscious, tied up Indiana Jones-style. COMMANDER MAXIME groggily raises his head and looks around. All he sees is the fire in the middle of a dark grove.) COMMANDER MAXIME So much for La Prima Directiva. (CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE and DOCTOR MANN raise their heads.) DOCTOR MANN (whining) Oh, I lost a false eyelash! And that bitch with the staff smeared my mascara all the way down onto my dress! That’s never going to come out. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE Quiet, honey! We need to think up a way out of this jam. COMMANDER MAXIME Perhaps if we edge closer to the fire, we can burn through the ropes. DOCTOR MANN Girl, are you loco? Didn’t you ever watch that NBC report on “Flaming Pantyhose of Death”? If these thigh-highs catch fire, I could get second-degree burns! Why should we listen to your pie hole anyway? It’s your stupid sensor’s fault that we ended up here in the first place! COMMANDER MAXIME (rolling eyes) Apparently, the uber-dykes were all butch enough to register on the sensors as male. (Faint sounds of drums beating.) DOCTOR MANN (wriggling) Ohmigod, ohmigod, they’re coming! CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE We’ll pull through, just so long as they don’t dress us in those 1993 fashions they’re wearing. (Drum beating grows louder. Enter several UBER-DYKES flanking NUMERO UNO BYTCH, wearing a banner that reads the same, who hocks and spits into the fire. They walk up to the seated SHIPMATES, including a visibly quaking DOCTOR MANN. Optional background music from the Data interrogation scene from “Star Trek: First Contact.”) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (to NUMERO UNO BYTCH) You must understand, sister, our faces are totally red right now. We’re Star Fleet officers on a mission of peace. (NUMERO UNO BYTCH does not respond.) Of course, since this is science fiction, we can assume you speak flawless English, right? NUMERO UNO BYTCH (rather like the Borg Queen, to her companions) How curious. Here we have three of the most backward of creatures. They have the anatomy of the Flat Chests, and they dress like the Prissy Ones. (The other UBER-DYKES sneer in disgust.) UBER-DYKE #1 Horrendous! DOCTOR MANN What do you mean, the Flat Chests? NUMERO UNO BYTCH (circling slowly) Two hundred years ago, our great-great-grandmothers fought in the Great War against the Flat Chests. After we eradicated them, it took us another hundred years to purge our own ranks of the Prissy Ones, the ones who had once allied themselves with the Flat Chests. Through this we have attained perfection. UBER-DYKE #2 We rely on no one else and none of their technology or culture. The ruins of the ancient cities are all around us. DOCTOR MANN But, if you eradicated all the Flat Chests, then how can you still be…? (trails off) UBER-DYKE #3 (leaning forward and whispering in DOCTOR MANN’s ear) It’s called “suspension of disbelief”. We don’t ask these questions. COMMANDER MAXIME I am curious, how can you survive with no fashion designers among you? Where do you go when you need a manicure? Don’t you have any malls? NUMERO UNO BYTCH (thunderclap) Temples of the Prissy Ones!!! We burned most of them – they serve no useful purpose. UBER-DYKE #4 We only maintain a few as traps in case the Prissy Ones ever return. (Cut to CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE’S face as the proverbial light bulb goes off in her head.) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE Release us. We can help y’all to get your groove back! NUMERO UNO BYTCH (smiles) Hmph. Brave words from such a flawed being. You possess all the worst features of our species. Why should we spare you? CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE Listen, we’ve come a long-ass way to bring glamour and style to the outer reaches of the universe. Perhaps we could negotiate a trade with you butch babes that could put some dazzle back in your dresser drawers. UBER-DYKES (chattering) A trade? What? What are they talking about? DOCTOR MANN Of course! NUMERO UNO BYTCH I don’t understand. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE (back to Kirk-mode) On our ship, the EnterPlease, we have mountains of military-style surplus clothing. And you have defunct malls still filled with fabulous fashions that we’re just dying to get our little paws on. NUMERO UNO BYTCH You mean… army boots? COMMANDER MAXIME Yes, hundreds of pairs! Cargo pants, and opaque gray T-shirts in small mountains! UBER-DYKES (chattering excitedly) Cargo pants, just like our ancestors wore! And boots! I haven’t seen a real pair of boots since I was a kid! etc. NUMERO UNO BYTCH You would give us all this – for your release? DOCTOR MANN And a chance to raid the Temples of the Prissy Ones! (NUMERO UNO BYTCH looks around. All the UBER-DYKES are looking at her expectantly.) NUMERO UNO BYTCH (after a long pause) In the interest of advancing our species, we accept your offer. (The three SHIPMATES look immensely relieved. DOCTOR MANN drums his heels on the ground excitedly. “Star Trek” resolution music plays. Cut to a shot of the Enterplease in space.) SCENE IV (Cut back to the bridge of the Enterplease. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE, COMMANDER MAXIME, and DOCTOR MANN, all in completely new outfits, enter, flanked by a group of UBER-DYKES in their newly-acquired military-style clothing.) CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE And this is the bridge, the whole powerhouse of the operation, from which we hope to bring Versace and Gucci to the far corners of the universe. NUMERO UNO BYTCH Very interesting, captain. You are a curious if flawed species, and I wish we had more time to learn about you. But we have fields to tend, animals to herd, and wild beasts to tame. We must return to the surface soon. CAPTAIN GLITTERMORE Oh no, you’re not going anywhere until we get a chance to work those hard little booties of yours! NUMERO UNO BYTCH What do you mean? (Cut to a dance floor. The SHIPMATES and the UBER-DYKES are all dancing to appropriate techno music. Roll credits over the dancing.)