Uncle Drago's agony column

[Yellow Fang]

Dear certain death in the very near future guy,

I would suggest a transfer to the science division. You can use the ships sensors to snoop at the nurses flats opposite Starfleet HQ.

What, and be stuck with Pointy Ears all the time? No thanks.
Anyway, there is a dirty secret regarding the red shirts. You might have wondered why security wear the same colour shirts as engineering. They all work in engine rooms shovelling out the spent dilithium crystals. They're all so irradiated with gamma rays they'd be dead in six months. Most of them aren't too bright.

 

[tyred]

Dear Drago,

After all these years, I've finally managed to find my way to Amarillo. It wasn't easy without a map.

I waited for this moment for a long time, looking forward to holding my sweet Marie in my arms.

Now that I finally got here, I've discovered Maria didn't wait for me and has married a guy in the chip shop called Elvis.

My heart is broken. What can I do?

Yours faithfully,
Tony C.

 

[Drago]

Dear Timmy,

I'm not sure why you wanted an armadillo from the chippy. I guess they'll deep fry anything these days,

 

[Yellow Fang]

Dear Uncle Drago,
I feel I am taken for granted here. I am supposed to be an officer, but I am treated as a receptionist. I have a PhD in telecommunications and another in linguistics. I speak four interstellar languages, including Standardised Earth English, Klingon, Romulan and Andoran, as well as my native Zulu. Yet all I get to say is "Hailing all frequencies, Captain." It is bad enough most shifts, but when the Captain and the First Officer are making first contact on some new planet, the Chief Engineer comes to the bridge and tries it on: ogling my legs, hand 'accidentally' brushing my thigh, comments about my hair and my lovely singing voice. He creeps me out.

 

[Drago]

Dear minority eye candy,

Wheres my cup of tea? Chop chop!

And as for Lt. Commander Scot, you need fear not. He's due to be replaced by Rear Admiral Savile at our next call into space dock.

 

[Toshiba Boy]

Dear Great Uncle Dragaria

Some of "them" want to use you, some of "them" want go get used by you, some of "them" want to abuse you, and some of "them" want to be abused.

Now, you see, I have travelled the world and the seven seas, and everybody's looking for something.

Other than holding my head up and movin' on, what am I to do?

Don't worry oh wise one, I will take your esteemed advice, after all, who am I to disagree?

Dave Annie Stewart-Lennox

 

[Drago]

Dear Fanny,

You're a constant thorn in my side with your sweet dreams.

 

[Yellow Fang]

Dear Uncle Drago,
I understand our Chief Engineer has made the calumnious suggestion that the security detail for first contact missions are selected on the basis of them having incurable cancer from handling spent dilithium crystals. Although a crucial, but dangerous task, I believe our health monitoring systems are second to none. I have full confidence that Ensign Davis, who was tragically vaporized shortly after landing on the planet Xenon, would have made a full recovery under my team's care. Likewise Sgt Hanson, who was eaten by an Illothian Lizard shortly after arriving on the planet Janus. Claims by his security co-workers that his reactions times had been slowed by his medical treatment are not true, as I had compensated for this with adrenaline and cortisone shots. The Captain likes to choose his security team for first contact missions as a reward for having completed their drudge work in the engine rooms. There is no other sinister cause for the correlation.

 

[Drago]

Dear Spock,

That is illogical. The rumours that people who pith off the captain get red shots and a one way transporter pass are completely unfounded.

 

[tyred]

Au revoir Drago,

I am a market trader but am bored with it.

I was wondering what else I could do and then, Pot pourri, I realised I could use my knowledge of the the ol' French language to teach people to speak Froggy.

I think I'd be a good French teacher and this time next year, I'll be a millionaire.

I asked my family and my dipstick brother laughed at me and my uncle told me about the time he sank a French Navy ship by mistake.

Do you think it would be a cushty idea?

Bonjour,
Derek Trotter
Nelson Mandela Hse.
Peckham

 

[Drago]

Dear Brian,

Gutten tag!

Being a fluent French speaker myself I think it's an excellent idea.

Konichi wa.

 

[Dec66]

Dear Doggo

We have been tasked with delivering an upright piano in a wooden crate to a property, access to which from the road is only possible via a long flight of steps.

We think this is a fairly routine job, and we do not foresee any adverse consequences. However, others suggest we have a haphazard approach to our work, and that a whole series of disasters will ensue.

What can we do to best mitigate the risk?

Swell.

Stanley and Oliver, Burbank, CA.

 

[Yellow Fang]

Dear Uncle Drago,
I play the part of a lovable, Southern doctor on a popular science fiction show. When I signed up for the show, the showrunner told me that I would be one of the three key members of the cast, alongside the Captain and the First Officer. I would be the warm, humanitarian influence on the Captain, while the First Officer would be the cold and logical. Well, that does not seem to be the way it turned out. I am lucky if I get a scene in the sickbay, while Pointy Ears bigs up his role. First he's a emotionless, robot like genius, then he becomes a telepathic empath, then some sort of tai chi kung fu expert. Is there no end to his limelight hogging antics? Even just now you attributed my actions to him. It was my character who pumped those poor redshirts full of stimulants and painkillers, not Pointy Ears'.

 

[classic33]

Dear Uncle Drago,
I play the part of a lovable, Southern doctor on a popular science fiction show. When I signed up for the show, the showrunner told me that I would be one of the three key members of the cast, alongside the Captain and the First Officer. I would be the warm, humanitarian influence on the Captain, while the First Officer would be the cold and logical. Well, that does not seem to be the way it turned out. I am lucky if I get a scene in the sickbay, while Pointy Ears bigs up his role. First he's a emotionless, robot like genius, then he becomes a telepathic empath, then some sort of tai chi kung fu expert. Is there no end to his limelight hogging antics? Even just now you attributed my actions to him. It was my character who pumped those poor redshirts full of stimulants and painkillers, not Pointy Ears'.

Dear Doc
Physician, heal thyself!

 

[Drago]

Dear Doggo

We have been tasked with delivering an upright piano in a wooden crate to a property, access to which from the road is only possible via a long flight of steps.

We think this is a fairly routine job, and we do not foresee any adverse consequences. However, others suggest we have a haphazard approach to our work, and that a whole series of disasters will ensue.

What can we do to best mitigate the risk?

Swell.

Stanley and Oliver, Burbank, CA.

Dear Sean and Wally,

Not a problem. Might I suggest you contact one Wile E. Coyote, C/O Acme Enterprises, aerial supplier or roadrunner traps and anvils, and he will surely facilitate the move on your behalf.