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Actually the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that the Big J is actually stuck on board the Enterprise, and the teleporter thingie isn't working.
Big J : Right, it's time to make myself known. Scotty ? Get ready to beam me down.
Scotty : Aye Aye Cap'n.
<Low Budget Shimmering Effect>
Big J : Are we done ? What happened ? I'm still here ?
Scotty : Sorry Cap'n. The Teleporter's on the blink. We did get a slice of toast with your brazen image on it, somewhere in New Mexico though.
Big J : Really ? Awesome !
Scotty : Er, not quite Cap'n. The lady who got the toast is religious and believes. Everyone else thinks it looks like a poor copy of Frank Zappa or Fidel Castro.
Big J : For God's Sake..er..I mean, er..Daddy's sake...let's try again...
<Low Budget Shimmering Effect>
Scotty : She's losing it Cap'n.
Big J : Great big hairy hedgehog testicles ! Ok, what we got ?
Scotty : Do you like Marmite Cap'n ?
Big J : I loathe it. Evil stuff. Spawn of the Devil's own seed.
Scotty : Oh. Well, put it this way, Lucifer has just painted a picture using his unholy vegetable devil juice on the underside of a Marmite lid. Actually, it's not a bad likeness.
Big J : This is ridiculous. Until you get that blinking Teleporter fixed, I'm doomed to remain fleeting images on various vegetables, breakfast products monkey's arses and washroom apparel.
Scotty : Washroom apparel ?
Big J : The Turin Shroud. FFS, all I was doing was having a sauna and a facial, and the whole world goes nuts over a facecloth.
Scotty : Ok Cap'n, I think I managed to fix it. One last try.
Big J : This better be good otherwise there'll be hell to pay. Hell to pay ? Geddit ? Ha ha ha...
Scotty : Oh, ho ho ho Cap'n. That joke is just as funny now as it was when you told it 3 million and 9 times ago. Ready Cap'n.
Big J : Ready Scotty. Ok Beam Me Up ! Heh heh, I've always wanted to say that...
Scotty, in desperation and confusion engages the Teleporter to Beam Up, instead of Beam Down.
<Low Budget Shimmering Effect, followed by shower of sparks, smoke and screams>
Scotty <looks through the fog and sees a hazy figure> : Mr Worf..you're on the wrong ship and in the wrong series, but apart from that I didn't expect you to come up ! Protocol states that you call first to make sure that no one else is...standing...on...the...oh my god
I think it's absolutely blimming marvellous, that with the pleothora of means unto which mankind can communicate with one another, that the Lord Jesus, in all his Son of Godly Wisdom should choose to reveal himself undeneath the lid of a Marmite container.
Sheer Genius !
I mean, forget materialising on the grounds of the White House, or perhaps clad in a day-glo jacket riding a pink elephant on the top of Canary Wharf, or even as a giant hovering head the size of the moon in the sky, oh no...he goes for something so sublime, it's the work of a true divine.
You gotta hand it the guy, he may do his own PR, but I think he needs a proper agent, eg, Max Clifford.
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