The tall, used-to-be-handsome captain stands on his bridge as the U.F.O. Sloth shoots through the darkness of space. That’s right, Captain Quirk is at the helm. Again. The ship is hurtling through the universe at Warp 9 toward its next destination.
What destination? Unknown. This is a voyage of exploration, of discovery.
That’s probably why everyone is drunk.
What could possible be more boring that traveling endlessly through the void of space looking for something, anything to break up the monotony?
Quirk has this command because it was the only way to get him out from underfoot at headquarters. The crew, comprised of whack jobs, bizarre misfits, malcontents, substance abusers, and dunderheads, could care less where they go as long as they don’t run out of booze.
Maybe they’ll find new planets. Maybe they’ll just wander endlessly around intergalactic space until they run out of fuel, get old, and pass away.
Back at headquarters, either outcome will be welcomed.
This is the Quirk I know and love. Captain Quirk. A man’s man. A lady’s man. A leader. Going nowhere, but doing it with style, authority and zest.