Mar 12, 2018
Enterprise “Two Days and Two Nights” (part 3 of 4)
Meanwhile, in a café on Risa, Hoshi Sato is sitting at a table all by herself. This is what happens when you turn your nose up at other people’s holiday plans. To make matters worse, she starts making small talk with a couple sitting at a nearby table, which positively makes my toes curl with embarrassment. That poor couple was probably having a perfectly pleasant evening, until Billy No Mates showed up, itching to show off her conversational Risan.
Unfortunately, they’re much too polite to tell her to get lost, choosing instead to stroke her ego by complimenting her language skills. For God’s sake, don’t encourage her! At this point, we become aware of a creepy guy with bulging forehead veins as he checks out Hoshi. Oh yes, women with a solid grasp of irregular verbs are such a turn on.
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After the put-upon couple take their leave—probably breathing a heavy sigh of relief as they go—Bulging Veins Guy approaches to heap on more flattery. He eventually challenges her to learn his crazy language. Good idea, Bulging Veins Guy! That ought to keep her occupied and out of the way for the rest of the episode!
And as if all this wasn’t pointless enough, this entire scene is subtitled, with all of the characters speaking in a goofy made-up language. Take that, Passion of the Christ!
Then it’s back to the wacky antics of Trip and Malcolm—joy of joys. They’re in another club. Trip says that, according to the Vulcan database, “no one leaves this club unhappy.” Malcolm asks how the Vulcans would know, given that they only mate once every seven years. Trip replies, “That’s what they say.” I guess Trip’s seen “This Side of Paradise” and “All Our Yesterdays” too!
Sadly, Trip’s analysis of the matter only amounts to, “Come on, seven years? I doubt even T’Pol could hold out that long!” I think the real question here is, is anyone actually brave enough to get their freak on with T’Pol? And if so, where does she hide the bodies?
At this point, Trip becomes aware of two potential victims at “bearing one eight zero”. Hilariously, this hugely complex piece of scientific terminology is just too much for Malcolm, prompting Trip to rephrase himself: “Behind you!” It’s pretty sad that the only real nod we’ve had to space travel thus far has been the use of navigational terms as an aid to sexual harassment.
Before Malcolm and Trip can get started on their charm offensive, the ladies in question approach them, and to be perfectly blunt, everything about these two is leading me to believe there might be a fee involved. Oh no! You don’t suppose that’s going to be the comedy twist to this woeful subplot, do you?
One of the women grabs the fruit-on-a-stick from Malcolm’s drink, but amusingly, doesn’t actually eat the fruit, just sucks on the stick. Hey, don’t come complaining to me if your transparent attempt at being sexually suggestive lands you with splinters in your tongue!
She then completes the general brainless slut routine by saying that she’s never heard of this place called “Earth” that they’re from, and the other girl chips in that they’ll have to make sure Trip and Malcolm’s first visit to Risa is “memorable”. Well, genital herpes can certainly be memorable. The boys exchange omigod we’re gonna get laid I hope you remembered the lube-type glances. I hope I remembered the sick bucket.
Can you believe I felt relieved when this scene cut away to Archer fiddling about with a telescope on his balcony? I’m really plumbing the depths now. Keyla calls to Archer from her balcony, wondering if he ever gets sick of looking at the stars. “Never,” he rather predictably replies. Y’know, just once, I’d love to hear a starship captain say, “Are you kidding? Sometimes I think I’ll go crazy if I have to look at one more constellation. I don’t think this space travel lark’s really for me, after all. I’m thinking of getting out of the ‘Fleet and maybe working the drive-thru at Wendy’s.”
Archer invites Keyla onto his balcony, and tells her about the couple he met who were celebrating their 300th wedding anniversary. Ooh, bad move. You haven’t even been on your first date, and already you’re dropping heavy-handed hints about marriage?
Then they check out Earth’s sun in Archer’s telescope, and he tells her that this is the furthest his people have ever gone. The Enterprise crew: boldly screwing where no man has screwed before! Keyla says she wouldn’t be surprised if they were naming schools after Archer back on Earth [??]. If I had to guess, I’d say these would not be schools of diplomacy.
Archer asks her to show him her home planet, but she says she has a terrible sense of direction, leading to a nauseating exchange in which he teases her for being a silly girl who can’t tell her arse from her elbow. And then it’s over. Wow, that scene was brief and achieved nothing, not unlike having sex with Malcolm Reed, one would imagine.
Speaking of the ladykiller himself, he and Trip are now attempting to wow the Risan hookers with stories of their heroics, which seem to involve blowing things up in their underwear and then squabbling over who’s going to take credit for it. The girls propose taking a trip to the “subterranean gardens”, which I suppose has got to be better than this. They lead Malcolm and Trip down some steps into a dank, fusty old cellar.
“So,” one of them asks, “how much do starship captains get paid on your world?” Oh my God, please tell me this isn’t really happening. I was joking before about them being prostitutes. Don’t tell me Enterprise writers are actually using the same ideas as Agony Booth recappers?
Ah, no, we’re okay, although the implication is definitely that Malcolm and Trip think the women are hookers at first. Instead, they turn out to be some sort of shape-shifters, who CGI-morph into gnarly rodent-like aliens. And not only are the hot women really ugly aliens, they’re also intent on robbing Malcolm and Trip.
Instead of beating them to a fine pulp, then stealing their credit cards and draining their bank accounts dry, the aliens find nothing of value in the guys’ pockets besides, I’m guessing, a condom Malcolm keeps on hand to blow up and put on his head. One rodent-guy suggests to the other that maybe their clothes are worth taking. Okay, guys? Even if the tailoring is enough to make Garak weak at the knees, it’s not worth it to have to endure the sight of a naked Malcolm and Trip. Your retinas may never recover from the trauma. Pleasingly, the aliens shoot the two men and they slump down, unconscious. Two down. That’s a good start.
Hey, now we’re on the Enterprise! Remember, the ship that travels through space exploring unknown parts of the galaxy? T’Pol is sitting in the captain’s chair, reading a PADD (technology that Starfleet evidently misplaced for the entire 23rd century), and looking pretty inoffensive for the moment.
She receives a hail from Travis Mayweather, who requests a shuttlepod be sent down, because he’s had a totally unexpected and incredibly interesting rock climbing accident. Next thing we see is Travis himself being helped off the shuttlepod by Cutler and another crewmember. He’s wearing a rather eye-catching blue leotard, and now sporting a leg brace, and being a great big baby about not wanting to be treated by an alien doctor. I have to grudgingly admit that T’Pol has a pretty cool moment when Travis asks if she’s ever been to an alien hospital: “Yes. In San Francisco.”
Travis then threatens to spit the dummy upon learning that Dr. Phlox is unavailable, presumably because Phlox is the only Starfleet surgeon who hands out lollipops and stickers saying “I was a brave boy”. Crewman Cutler reassures Travis that she knows how to handle a broken leg.
It also seems Travis was experiencing breathlessness in the shuttlepod. I’d be hyperventilating with fear, too, if I was on my way to rendezvous with T’Pol, but Cutler concludes that “it’s probably nothing.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it actually was nothing? I mean, besides Travis’s incurable wetness? And wouldn’t it be great if nothing did go wrong while Phlox was hibernating? And wouldn’t it be great if these scripts weren’t dashed out on the back of beermats after seven rounds?
Now we’re back in the cellar of the bar, and the camera slowly pans over to Malcolm and Trip, tied up and stripped down to their regulation blue undies. I wish I could say this was a treat.
They start ineffectually shouting for help, and Malcolm laments that the Vulcan database never said anything about crime on Risa. Trip admits that it said crime was “very rare” and it “had some warnings”, which leads Malcolm to sarcastically exclaim, “Wonderful!” Almost as if it actually stated that crime was in abundance, and sad, desperate Starfleet officers looking for cheap sex are the number one target.
I mean, are there really planets that have absolutely no crime whatsoever? Not even people occasionally sneaking on the tube without paying the fare? A planet with rare instances of crime sounds positively utopian to me, and certainly not something to get your knickers in a twist about. If these boys really want something to whine about, they should spend some time in Brixton.
They then start blaming each other for this debacle, as you knew they would, when really they should be pointing the finger at the scriptwriter, or maybe the person who decked them out in these atrocious vest-and-underpants ensembles. A hilarious exchange follows in which Trip justifies himself by pointing out that the aliens “were gorgeous!” To which Malcolm incredulously replies, “They were male!” Oh, Malcolm, your flimsy veneer of heterosexuality is fooling no one.
Malcolm then starts fretting about the captain finding them “like this,” and he’s got a point—in fan fiction, it’s just this kind of setup that leads to kinky sex. Pray there are no tribbles lurking in the vicinity.
Back on the Enterprise, Travis is in Sickbay complaining that he feels “terrible”. I sympathise, I really do. I’m just an outside observer; imagine how painful it must feel to be directly involved with this shambles. Crewman Cutler says that he’s suffering an allergic reaction to the painkiller they gave him on Risa. T’Pol asks about his condition, and Cutler says that if he gets any worse, his airways could become constricted. This seems like pretty bad form for a medical practitioner—Travis immediately looks panicky, no doubt causing his airways to constrict a little more. Travis asks again for Phlox, and I can’t say I blame him.
Lest we’d forgotten about Hoshi, we now catch up with her and Bulging Forehead Veins Guy just as she’s giving up on learning his language. Oh, and no more subtitles. Somehow, he’s learnt to speak English is less than a day, but it’s totally viable that he could do this, because, as he explains, English is “much simpler.” Tell that to Uwe Boll.
He then asks what the fruit on Hoshi’s plate is, and she says they don’t have anything exactly like it on Earth, but the closest thing would be a strawberry. This is particularly hilarious, because the fruit in question is very clearly an actual strawberry. And then he asks about another fruit, and Hoshi says it “tastes like a kiwi”. And this is pretty much an actual kiwi. The props people didn’t even bother disguising it.
Bulging Veins Guy chuckles, and says that “kiawi” in his language means… Wait, let me guess. Could it be… “unicycle”? “libertarianism”? “gonorrhoea”? It turns out to have no direct translation, so he’ll have to demonstrate. He predictably leans forward for the most cliché-tastic kiss imaginable. I guess it’s a good thing it doesn’t mean gonorrhoea, then.
Hoshi actually doesn’t seem very impressed by this, which certainly raises my opinion of her somewhat. Bulging Veins Guy invites her to go to a steam pool with him, and she rather pretentiously replies in French, just because she hasn’t quite filled her Showing Off Quota for the scene yet. And despite the fact that this guy was able to master English in a day, he can’t work out what “avec pleasure” means.