💾 Archived View for gemini.spam.works › mirrors › textfiles › sf › STARTREK › st-satnl.txt captured on 2022-03-02 at 00:46:05.

View Raw

More Information

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

1

This is a transcription of the Saturday Night Live sketch, "The Last Voyage
of the Starship Enterprise"


     
THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE
     
(Saturday Night Live -- June, 1976)
     
CAST:
     
    Captain James T. Kirk -- John Belushi
    Mr. Spock -- Chevy Chase
    Lieutenant Uhura -- Doris Powell
    Mr. Sulu -- Leo Yoshimura
    Doctor McCoy -- Dan Aykroyd
    Mr. Scott -- Dan Aykroyd <filtered voice-over>
    Herb Goodman -- Elliot Gould
    Cutis -- Garrett Morris
     
(OPEN ON: VTR OF 1968 NBC COLOR LOGO OF PEACOCK UNFOLDING)
     
                              ANNOUNCER <V.O.>:
    The following program is brought to you in living color by NBC.
     
(CUT TO: THE BRIDGE OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE.  MUST INCLUDE CAPTAIN'S
CHAIR, HELM AND NAVIGATOR STATIONS, MAIN VIEWING SCREEN, COMMUNICATIONS
STATION, LIBRARY COMPUTER STATION, RED HANDRAIL, BANKS OF LIGHTS AND
SCREENS, AND TURBO-LIFT WITH WORKING ELEVATOR DOORS...  THE TIME IS THE
TWENTY-THIRD CENTURY.)
     
(SFX: BRIDGE SFX)
     
(SPOCK IS SPEAKING INTO INTERCOM ... )
     
                               SPOCK:
     
(WITH SOME METALLIC ECHO)
    Captain Kirk to the bridge! Captain Kirk to the bridge!
     
(KIRK ENTERS BRISKLY THROUGH TURBO-LIFT DOORS)
     
(SFX: PNEUMATIC DOOR)
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Yes, Mister Spock.
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    Sensors are picking up an unidentified vessel, Captain, headed straight
    toward us.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Range, Mr. Sulu?
     
                              SULU:
     
    Point zero four light years, sir, and closing fast.
     

                              KIRK:
     
    Lieutenant Uhura, open a hailing frequency.
     
                             UHURA:
     
    I've been trying to raise them but there's no response, sir.
     
                               KIRK:
     
    (PUSHES BUTTON OR TALKS INTO MICROPHONE)  This is Captain James T. Kirk
    of the starship Enterprise.  Identify yourself. (TO UHURA) Put them on
    the viewscreen, full magnification.
     
                              UHURA:
     
    Aye aye, sir.
     
(SFX: VIEWSCREEN SOUNDS)
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (PUSHES BUTTON OR TALKS INTO MICROPHONE) Repeat -- identify yourself.
     
(CUT TO: MOCKUP OF BRIDGE SCREEN ON WHICH IS KEYED A MAROON '68 CHRYSLER
LIMO "DRIVING" TOWARD THE VIEWER THROUGH A FIELD OF STARS WHICH CONTINUALLY
RECEDE, TO INDICATE MOTION ...)
     
    What kind of ship is that, Mr. Spock?
     
                              SPOCK:
     
   Fascinating, Captain.  It would appear to be an early gas combustion

    vehicle, at least two or three hundred years old.
     
                              KIRK:

     

    (TO SPOCK) Run it through the computer.  Find out what those little
    numbers mean.  I want answers.
     
                              SPOCK:
    (TO COMPUTER) Process visual feed.  Analyze and reply.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    I have a hunch, Mr. Spock, that we are about to face a menace more
    terrifying than the flying parasites of Ingraham B; more insidious


    than the sand-bats of Manark 4; more bloodthirsty than the vampire
    clouds of Argus 10.  I have a hunch that "thing" out there is more
    deadly than the Klingons, the Romulans, and the Gorns, all rolled
    into one.
     
(SFX: COMPUTER)
     
(A STRIP OF PAPER COMES OUT FROM CONSOLE ...)
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    Here is the readout, Captain.  The computer has identified the alien
    vessel as a 1968 Chrysler Imperial with a tinted windshield and retrac-
    table headlights.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    And the little blue and orange numbers?
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    That's called a "California license plate", and it's registered, or
    was in 1968, to a corporation known as "NBC".
     
(SFX: COMPUTER SFX)
     
(MORE PAPER STRIP COMES OUT FROM CONSOLE SLOT ...)
     
                              SPOCK: (CONT'D)
     
    Wait, here's something more.  The computer isn't sure, but it thinks
    this NBC used to manufacture cookies.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Could that (POINTS AT SCREEN) be some sort of illusion, Mr. Spock?
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    It's no illusion, Captain.  Scanner readings indicate two life forms
    inside that craft.
     

                              KIRK:
     
    Mr. Sulu, increase speed to warp factor eight.
     
                              SULU:
     
    But, sir, that's only for the most extreme emergencies.  The ship can't
    take it.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    You heard my order, Mr. Sulu.
     
                              SULU:

     
    Aye aye, sir.
     
(CUT TO: MODEL SHOTS OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE ZIPPING THROUGH SPACE,
OLLOWED CLOSELY BY THE CHRYSLER LIMO)

     
(MUSIC: STAR TREK THEME)
     
(SUPER: STAR TREK)
    

(SUPER: THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE)
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Captain's Log, Stardate 3615.6.  On a routine delivery of medical
    supplies to Earth Colony 9, we are being chased through space by an
    automobile three centuries old, owned by a company that manufactured
    cookies.  It would all seem silly if it weren't for this feeling of
    dread that haunts me, a sense of impending doom.
     
(MUSIC: OUT)
     
(CUT TO: BRIDGE ...)
     
(SFX: BRIDGE SOUNDS)
     
                              SULU:
     
    They're right behind us, Captain.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Let's lose them, Mr. Sulu.  Prepare for evasive action.  Helm hard to
    port!
     
(THEY LURCH TO RIGHT AS CAMERA TILTS)
     
    Hard to starboard!
     
(THEY LURCH TO LEFT AS CAMERA TILTS)
     
    Hard to port!
     
(THEY LURCH TO RIGHT AS CAMERA TILTS)
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    Frankly, Captain, I'm exhausted.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Me too.  Stabilize, Mr. Sulu.
     
(CAMERA LEVELS)
     
                              SULU:
     
    Look, Captain!
     
(CUT TO: MODEL OF CHRYSLER LIMO, MUCH CLOSER THAN BEFORE)
     
    It's no use.  We can't shake them.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Then we'll give them a fight they won't forget.  (INTO INTERCOM, WHICH
    MAKES FOR SOME METALLIC ECHO)  All hands!  Man your battle stations!
     
(SFX: WHOOPING ALARM)
     
    This is not a drill!  Red alert!  Man your battle stations! Red alert!
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    But, Captain --

     
                              KIRK:
     
(METALLIC ECHO LOST)
     
    Lock phasers on target, Mr. Sulu.
     
                              SULU:
     
    Phasers locked on target, sir.
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    But, Captain, you can't --
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Stand by to fire.
     
                              SULU:
     
    Phasers standing by, sir.
     
(SFX: FADE WHOOPING ALARM OUT ...)
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    But, Captain, we don't know who the aliens are or what they want.  To kill
    them without warning would be highly illogical.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Fact -- their intentions are unknown.  Fact -- I am responsible for the
    lives of 430 crewmen.  And, fact -- I can't afford to take any chances.
    (TO SULU) Fire main phasers!  (PAUSE WHEN NOTHING HAPPENS)  I said, "Fire
    main phasers!"
     
                              SULU:
     
    (FRANTICALLY HITTING BUTTONS) I'm trying, sir.  Nothing is happening.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Arm and lock photon torpedoes, Mr. Sulu.
     
                              SULU:
     
    They're not working either, Captain.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Deflectors up.

    

                              SULU:
     
    Captain, the helm does not respond.  The controls are dead.
     

                              SPOCK:
     
    We're slowing down, Captain.  We're stopping.
     
(THE LIGHTS DIM AND FLICKER A BIT IN THE BRIDGE ... )
     
                              KIRK:
     
(PRESSING BUTTON OR TALKING INTO MIKE)
    

(SFX: BEEP)
     
    Bridge to Engine Room, acknowledge.
    

                              SCOTTY: <FILTERED V.O.>
    

    Scotty here, Captain.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    What in blazes is going on, Scotty?

    
                              SCOTTY: <FILTERED V.O.>
     
    I dinna know, Captain.  We're losing power and I don't know why.


    
                              KIRK:
     
    Well, do something, man.  Go to manual override.  Cut in auxilliary
    systems.
     
                              SCOTTY: <FILTERED V.O.>
     
    Saints preserve us, Captain, but even the emergency systems are out.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Well, fix it, Scotty.  I don't care how, but fix it.  The lives of 430
    crewmen hang in the balance.  Kirk out.
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    Life support systems are still operative, Captain.
    

                              KIRK:
    

    But for how long, Mr. Spock, for how long?  Lieutenant Uhura, inform
    Starfleet Command of our situation.
     
                              UHURA:
    

    All communications are dead, Captain.
     
(SFX: PNEUMATIC DOOR)
     
(FROM TURBO-LIFT, McCOY BURSTS INTO ROOM ... )
     

                             McCOY:
     
    Jim, Jim, I -- I .... Jim --
    
                              KIRK:

     
    Great god, man, spit it out.
     
                              McCOY:
     


   The aliens have boarded us, Jim.  And they're headed this way.
     

                             KIRK:
     
    But how, Bones?  How did they get on board?  Did they beam on? Did
    they suddenly materialize?
     
                              McCOY:
     
    No, they just sort of stepped out from behind the curtains.
     

                              SPOCK:
     
    Describe them, Doctor.
     
                              McCOY:
     
    There's two of them.  Bipeds, humanoid in appearance.  Their clothing is
    drab except for a bright piece of cloth worn around the neck of the
    leader.
     
                               SPOCK:
     
    Was there anything else odd about their clothing?
     
                              McCOY: 
      
    I'm a doctor, not a tailor, dammit!  Wait, there was one other thing
     about them that seemed strange.  They spoke English!  Quick, Jim, I
    hear them coming up the turbo-lift!  They'll be here in seconds!
     
                              KIRK:
     
    We'll be ready for them, Doctor.
     
(KIRK, SPOCK, AND McCOY QUICKLY WHIP OUT THEIR PHASERS AND TRAIN THEM ON
THE TURBO-LIFT DOORS)
     
(THE DOORS OPEN AND CLOSE TO ADMIT HERB GOODMAN AND CURTIS ...)
     
(SFX: PNEUMATIC DOORS)
      
    Welcome aboard the starship Enterprise.  I'm Captain James T. Kirk,
    representing the United Federation of Planets.
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    (ABOUT TO GLAD-HAND KIRK)  Hi, I'm Herb Goodman, head of programming
    for the network.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Stand back.  I won't hesitate to shoot.
     
(GOODMAN SORT OF IGNORES HIM AND ADDRESSES THE GROUP ... )
     

                              GOODMAN:
     
    Can I have your attention?  (TO CURTIS)  Curtis, you want to turn off
    those sound effects?
     
                               CURTIS:
     
     Sure thing. 
     
(EXITS OFF CAMERA, NOT INTO TURBO-LIFT)
     
                              GOODMAN:
      
     (ADDRESSING GROUP AGAIN)  Everyone, please, can I have your attention? 
    I have an announcement to make.
     
(SFX: BRIDGE SOUND EFFECTS GRIND TO SILENCE LIKE A RECORD SLOWING DOWN
 AND STOPPING) 
      
(AT THE SAME TIME, THE BLINKING LIGHTS ON THE PANELS FADE AND GO OUT ...) 

    
    Due to the low Neilsens, we at NBC have decided to cancel "Star Trek".
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (TO SPOCK AND McCOY) Fire at my command.
     
                               GOODMAN:
      
     On your way out, stop by the cashier's office and pick up your checks.
      
                              KIRK:
      
    Set phasers on "stun."  Fire.
     
(THEY SET PHASERS ON STUN AND ATTEMPT TO FIRE AT GOODMAN, BUT NOTHING HAPPENS)
     
                              McCOY:

     
    They're not firing, Jim.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (CASUALLY)  Try "kill".
     

THEY SET PHASERS ON "KILL" AND AGAIN TRY TO SHOOT GOODMAN, BUT NOTHING
HAPPENS ...)
     
                              McCOY:
     
    Nope, still nothing.
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    (TO THE THREE OF THEM ABOUT PHASERS)  You'll make sure the property
    department gets those things back, won't you, fellows?
     
                              SPOCK:
     

    Most peculiar, Captain.  I can only conclude that they possess some sort
    of weapons deactivator.  In which case, I shall merely render him uncon-
    scious with my famous Vulcan nerve pinch.
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    Of course, if it was up to me you could keep them -- as souvenirs, give
    'em to your kids, whatever.  But, you see, they're planning to market a
    complete line of Trekkie merchandise, and I have to send these to Taiwan
    to be copied.
     
(AS HE SPEAKS, SPOCK APPROACHES HIM AND ATTEMPTS TO KNOCK HIM OUT WITH THE
VULCAN NERVE PINCH.  IT HAS NO EFFECT WHATSOEVER AND SPOCK DOES DISBELIEF
TAKE ON HIS HAND)
     
(SPOCK TRIES NERVE PINCH A SECOND TIME, AND GOODMAN THINKS HE'S ADMIRING
HIS SUIT)
     
    Isn't that fabric something?  You just can't buy material like this in

   the States.  No way!  But I was lucky enough to find this great little

   tailor who flies in from London four times a year --
     
(SPOCK, NONPLUSSED, TURNS TO WALK AWAY)
     
    Oh, Nimoy, we'll need those ears back too, I'm afraid.
     
(HE PULLS OFF THE TIPS OF SPOCK'S EARS AND POCKETS THEM)
     
                              McCOY:
     
    (TO GOODMAN)  For God's sake, man, we're on a five-year mission to
    explore space, the final frontier, and dammit, we've only been out
    three years!
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    Sorry, but it's those Neilsens.  If it was up to me, of course ....
     
                              KIRK:
     
    What are those "Neilsens" that the alien keeps mentioning, Mr. Spock?
    

                              SPOCK:
     
    If I remember my history correctly, Captain, Neilsens were a primitive
    system of estimating television viewers once used in the mid-twentieth
    century.
     
                              McCOY:
     
    If Man were meant to fly, he'd have better ratings, is that what you're
    saying, Mr. Goodbody, whatever your name is? (TO SULU AND UHURA)  Come
    on, George, Nichelle, let's go tie one on.
     
                               UHURA:
     
    I'm with you, Kelley.
     
                              SULU:
     
    Maybe I'll just go home.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (TO McCOY) Belay that kind of talk, Doctor McCoy.
     
                              McCOY:
     
    (TO KIRK) Forget it, Bill.  We lost.  It's over.  (TO SPOCK) Are you
    coming, Leonard?
     
(SPOCK TRIES VULCAN NERVE PINCH ON McCOY)
     
    (BRUSHING HIM ASIDE) Knock it off, you joker!
     
(McCOY, UHURA, AND SULU EXIT.  SPOCK STARTS TO EXIT ... )
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (A BIT DESPERATE NOW)  Wait, Mr. Spock.  We have yet to try Vulcan
    mind meld, where you actually enter the alien's brain, merge with
    his intelligence, and read his thoughts.
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    I entered Mr. Goodman's mind while you were talking to Dr. McCoy, Captain.
     
(CURTIS ENTERS HERE OR A LITTLE BEFORE, NOT REALLY NOTICED, AND STARTS TO PRY
APART THE SET WITH A CROWBAR)
     
(SPOCK CONTINUES SPEAKING, OBVIOUSLY SHAKEN BY WHAT HE HAS SEEN IN GOODMAN'S
MIND ... )
     
     
    It was all ... all dark and empty in there.  And ... and there were little
    mice in the corners and spiders had spun this web --
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (GRABBING HIM) Spock!
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    I kept bumping my head on the ceiling, and --
     

                              KIRK:
     
    (SHAKING HIM) Snap out of it, Spock!
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    (WITH A SHUDDER)  It's okay, Captain.  I'm all right now.
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    What do you think, Curtis?  Any chance we can sell this junk to
    "Lost in Space"?
     
(CURTIS HAS PRIED APART A SECTION OF THE SET AND IS TURNING IT AROUND ...)

    
                              CURTIS:
     
    Well, it all comes apart.
     
                              KIRK:
     
    (TO CURTIS) Hey, get away from there!
     
(CURTIS DOES NOT TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY, AND THROWS HIM A MOCKING SALUTE)

     
                              CURTIS:
     
    Right on, Buck Rogers!  Is that an order?
     
                              KIRK:
     
    No, it can't end like this.  I won't let it!  This is MY ship!  I give
    the orders here!  I give the commands!  I am responsible for the lives
    of 430 crewmen, and I'm not going to let them down!  There's got to be
    a way out! (POUNDS PANEL IN FRUSTRATION)
     
                              SPOCK:
     
    You are becoming quite emotional, Captain.  Needless to say, my trained
    Vulcan mind finds such open displays of emotion distasteful.  Emotion,
    you see, interferes with logic, and it is only by dealing with problems
    in a logical, scientific fashion that we can arrive at valid solutions.
    Now, with regard to the alien takeover of the Enterprise, I would suggest
    that we seek some new alternative, based upon exact computer analysis, of
    course, and taking into consideration elements of -- (SUDDENLY BREAKS DOWN
    INTO SOBBING WACKO)  Oh, God!  I don't believe it!  We're cancelled! How
    could they do this?  Everybody I know loves the show!  I have a contract!
    What about my contract?  I want my ears back! (ETC ...)
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    (LEADING SPOCK OFF)  Curtis, can you give me a hand here?
     
                              CURTIS:
     
    I have a couple Valium in my tool box.  Maybe that'll help.
     
(GOODMAN AND CURTIS HELP SPOCK OFF THE SET ... )
     
                              KIRK:
     
    So it's just me, is it?  Well, I've been in tougher spots.  Surrender?
    No way.  I'd rather go down with the ship.
     
                              GOODMAN:
     
    (EXITING)  Oh, Shatner, your agent called you.  Something about a mar-
    garine commercial.  He said he'd call back.
     
(KIRK IS LEFT ALONE.  TIRED, DEFEATED, HE SINKS INTO HIS COMMAND CHAIR AND
PUNCHES THE BUTTON TO MAKE HIS FINAL ENTRY)
     
                              KIRK:
     
    Captain's log, final entry.  We have tried to explore strange new worlds,
    to seek out new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.
    And except for one television network, we have found intelligent life
    everywhere in the galaxy.  (HE GIVES THE VULCAN SALUTE)  Live long and
    prosper.  (KIRK CLOSES HIS FINGERS)  Promise.  Captain James T. Kirk,
    SC 937-0176 CEC.
     
(PULL BACK TO SHOW HIM ALONE IN WHAT IS NOW OBVIOUSLY A SET IN A TV STUDIO,
WITH SOME OF SET BROKEN UP AND ONE PIECE TURNED AROUND SO ONE CAN READ "STAR
TREK BRIDGE #4" CRUDELY PAINTED ON THE BACK.  CONTINUE PULLING BACK TO SHOW
CAMERAS -- WITH CONTEMPORARY NBC LOGO MASKED -- BOOMS, TECHNICIANS)
     
(SLOW FADE .....)

[1] Tfiles: (1-2,?,Q) :