Because of something vaguely masturbatory Reed says to him, Trip experiences buyer's remorse over his Neural Node Nudging with T'Pol but buries it when he, Reed, and Quantum go shopping for Trellium-D. In order to pay for this valuable commodity that could save all their lives and keep Quantum from oozing and scratching himself, they raid Chef's spice rack. After their buyer snorts several dime bags of saffron, Quantum impulse-buys a sex slave. Don't blame him -- she was close to the register! Unfortunately, the sex slave has major issues with bad hair, bad wardrobe, bad acting and hands that do way more than heal when she lays people -- I mean, when she lays them on people.
Okay, either I'm going to have to get really drunk tonight, or I'm going to have to get really caffeinated in order to finish this thing. Currently, I am barely touching my iBook, because I am afraid it's going to completely flip on me. Nine months I've had this computer, and it's already had THREE logic boards. So I'm typing ever-so-gently in order to get this recap done so the Evil Dr. Mathra can take it in tomorrow to the Evil Apple Store, where they can not fix it all over again. This is a problem endemic to the iBook 800, and Apple will fix and fix and FIX but not acknowledge that there is something very wrong with the design, even though it is happening to thousands of people who SHELLED OUT HARD-EARNED CASH TO GET A DEFECTIVE MACHINE! After the fourth fix and subsequent break, Apple will replace the machine with a new one. But see, that doesn't get me anywhere when it's the iBook 800 that is having this very SPECIFIC ISSUE! Specific to the iBook 800 -- is there another way for me to convey this craptitude? I'm losing time and money whenever this machine spends a week in Memphis getting its face done, not to mention the time I eat when Memphis screws up and sends my machine back to Boston. Please, help me spread the word that APPLE SUCKS!
Anyway, I'm typing in this really contorted position whereby my hands don't touch the part they're supposed to touch in order not to get RSI or CTS. And now my back is starting to hurt, and it's clear that I will need a three-hour hot rocks massage. I wonder if that counts as short-term disability...
The Xindi of the Round Table meet and argue about wiping out Earth with their new weapon. Again, it's Mr. Man, Monkey Boy, and Aqua Man who argue to keep the humans alive until they can do more research for their secret weapon, and it's Bug House and Snake Eyes who want the humans taken care of ASAFP. Since it's taking Mr. Man, like, forever to build his WMD, they other species mention that they should consider their "colleagues' proposal," which might be an allusion to the Suliban. Or it might be something that Bermaga put out there and never pick up again. At one point Aqua Man gets so into his whale song and swims so close to the glass window that I was half-convinced he was going to burst through it.
Oh, hey -- it's now Star Trek Enterprise in the credits. I didn't notice that last week when I stuck my head in our faulty gas oven to avoid the theme song. Poor Glark. Let's not rush to tell him, okay?