Three Weiners

Posted on Tue Jul 7th, 2026 @ 1:09pm by Commander Donald ‘Don’ Key
Edited on on Tue Jul 7th, 2026 @ 1:09pm

223 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Do as I say, not as I...
Location: Starfleet HQ, Earth
Timeline: Present

:ON:

{Starfleet HQ, Earth}

#SNIP#

Star: "But not too hungover for hot dogs!" ::on a makeshift stage about to begin a hot dog eating contest against a few other officers and random space aliens::

Assembled junior officers, cadets, and Orion females: ::chanting:: "Chuck, Chuck, Chuck!"

Sprague, Key, and Sprague 3000: ::materialize in spots prepared for absent contestants::

#SNIP#

{Around 451 hot dogs later…}

Sprague: ::Opens the top button of his pants::

Key: ::Takes off his tunic::

Sprague 3000: ::Malfunctions from too many hot dogs. His eyes go milky white, his skin turns pale, and he collapses face first into a pile of hot dogs - permanently offline::

Star: “Who knew that androids couldn’t handle their dogs!”

Key: “He’s a lightweight. Or was. Or isn’t. Uh, do androids die?

Sprague: “Data did.”

Crowd: “FIVE… FOUR…”

Sprague, Key and Star: ::Stuff their faces with more hot dogs::

Crowd: “THREE… TWO… ONE…”

::A loud klaxon indicates that the contest was over::

::A Bolian contestant rolls off the stage, collapsing somewhere in the crowd. A Vulcan contestant raised an eyebrow before concluding that what he was about to do was fascinating… before vomiting into a bucket::

Master of Ceremonies: “Ladies and gentlemen…” ::Gestures towards Sprague, Key and Star:: “YOUR WEINERS!”

::The crowd erupts in loud cheers::


:OFF:

Commander Donald ‘Don’ Key
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Albion

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