May-Criblecoblis is sitting in Enterprise's G-Spot reading a book -- a real book, mind you, not one of those e-things that don't even smell like pages -- and taking a sip now and then from a waterskin as it floats by. Hoshi comms him that they are reversing course and he should get his Stairmastered tushie down to the Bridge.
I left the room for the song. I left the room to pee. Because I've got waaaater in my blaaadder -- no one's going to bend or shake me.
Mathra promised he was going to bed, but as I started recapping and he heard the song (again), he called out: "Maybe there's radiation in the G-Spot that softens your brain. Wait, that would be Quantum. Okay, say this: maybe there's radiation in the G-Spot that hardens your pecs." And then he giggled. Thank god his thesis is due next month.
There's some reason for the crew to sally forth and Nancy Drew a volcanic planet -- one which really never amounts to any true importance -- and they set a course. May-Whipsnade makes the comment that they are backtracking by thirty light years, and Quantum assures them that the Admiral assured him that the detour is only temporary. The crew expresses due excitement.
Quantum's Quarters. May-Souse pays the Captain a visit to request a rendezvous with his family's barge so he can have a sort of homecoming. Quantum readily agrees even before May-Souse informs him that his father has been sick for a few months. "Nothing serious I hope," Quantum comments. May-Souse doesn't think so, since his mother -- also the ship's medic -- doesn't seem concerned. Of course, we all know that means that Pop-Weather's chalked up on the specials board as the Corpse Du Jour. Quantum exposits that he thought May-Souse's mother was the Chief Engineer, which leads into some dull chatter between the two men. Quantum gives some personal history about almost signing up to be on a barge, but when May-Souse asks why he didn't accept the position, Quantum decides he wants to save it as a bacon-and-eggs sort of story. I'm thinking that Capt. Water Polo thought his ass was too precious to serve on a barge, but he doesn't want to offend May-Souse by telling him so without pouring hollandaise down his gullet first. And you know, Quantum and this whole "Win A Breakfast With The Captain" deal...they're trying their level best to make it into "a thing," but it's only succeeding in annoying me with its More-Obvious-Than-Courteney-Cox-Arquette's-New-Breasts-ness. Quantum offers to have Phlox go aboard May-Souse's ship to make his father say "ahh."
Engineering. Technobabbleage between Trip and T'Pol regarding the surveys of the volcanic rest stop. Trip starts to lead up to something by saying there isn't going to be much for them to do once they reach the plant, since the sensors will be burning the info for them. "You should have plenty of time to practice your harmonica," T'Pol comments. Heh. I wish they would make T'Pol musical -- together they could riff a few "yaaay brother"s. Trip grins at her, which makes T'Pol look like the before photo in an ad for digestive pills. Trip says he's talked Chef into "doin' somethin' special." "Startin' Tuesday, it's gonna be movie night, every night. I though yew might be innerested seeing as how you enjoyed that Western," Trip finishes. T'Pol looks askance. "We're gonna be showin' the three greatest horror movies ever made. Frankenstein [okay, I'll agree with that], Bride of Frankenstein [meh?], and Son of Frankenstein," Trip says, counting them off on his fingers and earning the eternal curse of my grandmother. Dracula aside, what about The Mummy, The Black Cat, and The Wax Museum? Trip's an idiot, and one who would better serve the human race by shutting up. "We might even throw in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein," Trip goes on. No Young Frankenstein? Forgive me, I was hasty in my judgment. Trip's not an idiot, he's an imbecile. T'Pol expresses a lack of interest in horror movies, and Trip wonders how she can dislike them if she's never seen one. "Yew don' have to see all of them -- jes' come the first night. I promise you'll like it -- reanimated lifeforms, science run amok ["'Amok Time'?" Mathra mutters hopefully in his sleep] -- they're right up yer alley," Trip promises. T'Pol glares. Trip grins. You know, Trek fan though I might be, I cannot hear the word "amok" without picturing Sarah Jessica Parker bouncing around, chanting, "Amok! Amok! Amok!" before Bette Midler clocks her over the head in Hocus Pocus.