Wacky hijinks ensue when Quantum, Hoshi, Mayweather, Trip, and Reed take shore leave on the seductive planet of Risa. Trip and Reed play out scenes from Another Night at the Roxbury, while Hoshi gets language lessons. And I do mean those kind of language lessons as well as the real ones. Quantum dons a tight shirt and uses Porthos to get a date. Back on the ship, Phlox goes into deep hibernation, but has to be roused when May-waterfall spazes out, injures himself, and is evac'd back to the ship. T'Pol has a little trouble with rigor mortis of the jaw in the beginning, but gets over it so she and and Ensign Scrunchie Face can stand around making clucking noises around the disoriented Phlox and the anaphylactic shocked May-wounded.
Quantum sits like a bump on a log and talks about how they've finally reached Risa and that "with any luck" this will be his last entry for two days. He doesn't keep a diary going when he's on vacation? That's when I write some of my juiciest stuff. Then again, we're talking about Lord Boring here. Porthos barks excitedly as Quantum and T'Pol haul brass down the corridor, and Quantum feels the need to give T'Pol all sorts of unnecessary last-minute-control-freakish instructions, because he's convinced the ship cannot function without him. T'Pol does a lot of lock-jawing in this scene and insists that things will be okay. Quantum puts on his souvenir martyr t-shirt reading, "I bore a cross and all I got was this lousy tee-shirt," and whines, "This doesn't feel right." "My thong is supposed to fit that way," T'Pol tells him. Well, it's possible she doesn't, but I really don't want to listen to Quantum whinging that he shouldn't be going down to "some pleasure planet" when half the crew has to stay aboard. T'Pol reminds him that they all drew Expositional Lots, and he had as much chance as everyone else. Quantum argues, "All the same, the crew should come first." "Captain, you need a vacation," T'Pol says, sternly. She just wants to be able to perch on his chair and imitate his John Wayne swagger on the bridge for two days straight. I hear she sold tickets for the show to all the malcontents who had to stay aboard. The turbolift arrives. T'Pol and Porthos get on and stare Quantum down. Porthos whimpers a bit, and Quantum relents and decides to go to Risa for the good of his dog. Ugh -- I cannot get over how much he gets up my nose when he tries to act all self-sacrificing! I want the finest Post Road Pumpkin Ale available to humanity. I want it here and I want it now!
Shuttle Bay. Uniformed and civvied crew members mill around, babbling excitedly. Hoshi, her hair down, her shoulders bared in a red sundress, tells Quantum she's glad he "decided to take some time off." Quantum assures her he "wouldn't miss it," under T'Pol's raised eyebrow. Rostov asks his captain if he wants "to take the helm," but Quantum snorts that he's on vacation, and thrusts his water polo bag at him. T'Pol calls after them to "enjoy [them]selves," and Trip tells her he'll bring back a souvenir for her. I think her souvenir should be him burning that gawd-awful shirt on the planet and bringing back the ashes in a jar.
I wonder if acupuncture would take the pain of this song away.