Still confounded as to how exactly Panakeia had managed to get the two of them in the presence of the most honored
Captain and his
Spockú, Valde did not waste time considering the possibilities. He approached
Spockú and flourished a bow. “I am a great admirer of your work. Never have I seen a mind more large and swollen with brilliance than yours, particularly between a pair of pointed ears.” He knew flattery was the best way to get someone to trust you. It was only logical. And of course it was only logical for everyone to simply be in awe of this ultimate Vulcan.
“Thank you…?”
“Valde,” he said, supplying the Lord of the Brow with his name. He was mesmerized by those dark streaks, twisting up and ending in a slight point. He knew they were not natural. He knew they were a fabrication of dark forces. They irked him so much that he barely saw
Spockú reach out with his hand, moving it slowly toward Valde’s shoulder. But his reflexes were quick, and Valde removed the Vulcan hand from anywhere near him.
“You have passed my test. It is logical to assume that you if you admire me, you k now my ways. And since it seems that you know my ways, then you must admire me.”
Of course. It made perfect sense. Valde wasn’t about to tell him otherwise, anyway. Instead, having gained his trust, he made his move.
“Oh my goodness!” he shouted, springing toward
Spockú. “Sir, there are a pair of
tribbles on your forehead!”
“Great
Scotty! Where?!” The Vulcan shouted, flailing.
“On your forehead, sir.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right.” The pointy-eared man reached up to his face.
“Here, let me pluck them off of you, sir. Just relax. I happen to have the tribble removal kit you used in episode 74.”
Spockú dropped his arms. “I had a special kit for that? Well aren’t I clever.”
“Quick, close your eyes, sir, before their hair particles get in them.”
Valde then turned searchingly to see if he could acquire some kind of help.
Dr. McBones approached him, seeing the look of inquiry on his face. “How can I heat this up?” he hissed.
“Here, let me nuke it,”
McBones replied. Valde handed over the container of wax with an incredulous look on his face.
“Nuke it?”
“Scotty has a microwave.”
“Ah.”
He turned back to
Spockú, who still had his eyes shut. It seemed Valde had made a logical enough argument concerning the tribbles, though logic of course came in many forms across the galaxies. For now, Valde decided to keep himself busy and his victim convinced that there were indeed two small furry animals on his forehead by using the tweasers. How that would do the latter he was not sure, but he began to pluck away at the Vulcan’s eyebrows, anyway.
“Ow!”
Spockú exclaimed befittingly. “Hurry up! Those things always did have a nasty bite. That was a bite, wasn’t it?”
“Quite. No blood yet, though, sir. And we’re getting there. Everything’s almost set up for their sticky gooey fate.”
“Sticky gooey? I seem to recall using something like grains…”
“You used a number of preserves, as well, though.”
Valde felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see
Dr. McBones holding out the container of wax. He couldn’t help himself, and he beamed at him very unlike a
Lead Tragic Actor. After taking the wax from him, though, he furrowed his brow in a deep concentration that was much more suitable to his role, and scowled slightly at recalling the smile. He wondered what Panakeia would think of him is she had seen that – she probably would have thought he was a joke. She’d think he was just another silly man who found joy in love and life and food and cute fuzzy little animals and pretty faces. The thought was horrifying.
“Goodness, that is gooey. And how warm. You really didn’t have to go and cook them fresh for me.”
Valde snapped out of his thoughts and realized that he had put quite enough wax on the left furry arch. Grabbing a conveniently pre-cut cloth strip from the kit, he pressed it firmly on the waxed area.
“There, all set for getting the first one. Ah, and he’s gone for it!” Valde commentated, and then pulled ‘in the direction opposite the hair growth’ as instructed.
“By the Borg! Are you sure that wasn’t a furry leech?!”
Valde peered at the cloth he had ripped off
Spockú’s face and snickered. Looking at the Vulcan he had to stifle a stream of giggles. He looked lopsided. But quickly any humour Valde found in the situation turned to pure horror. He had reached up to clutch the left side of his face at the stinging pain. It was a natural reaction, of course, as Valde had failed to place any pressure on the area after he pulled the strip off. Perhaps he should have read the directions more carefully.
“What in the Enterprise…?”
Spockú questioned while feeling the obvious hairlessness of his left brow. “What have you done?!”
“Run!” Valde heard Panakeia shout, and he silently agreed, racing after her with the conveniently pre-cut strip of cloth dangling from his hand, now stuck to it quite firmly. At least he would get half his points, even if Anakron was not feeling understanding. After a daring escape, the two contestants were on their way back to the
Mount Doom Casino and Resort. Both their kamuramen had somehow escaped with them. Valde was disappointed, and questioned them as to whether they had simply stayed in the car the entire time. But, of course, they claimed to have gotten Valde and Panakeia’s entire escapade on their kamuras. Valde scowled as he carefully pried the hair-infested piece of cloth off his hand.