A Spot of Seasonal Coffee...

It is our custom, in the company where I work in my secret identity, for us to serve a festive Irish Coffee and perhaps a mince pie to our colleagues in the IT Dept and certain selected guests from outside IT.

The event began as a small, in-the-room thing before we broke up for Christmas, but word got out and before long it was department-wide, to the extent that it's now part of the pre-Christmas social calendar.

The guest list runs to about 120, including former colleagues who've moved on to other things, supplier reps we deal with during the year, and friends.

Glasses are generously supplied by a local pub, and the glassware is washed before and after by our Canteen staff. Everything else is supplied and organised by ourselves on a completely unofficial, under-the-radar basis, and the whole thing takes place in two hours on the Friday before Christmas.

It's a fun event, and I enjoy organising it, but what I especially enjoy is the theme, devised each year by Jennifer, Dave and Enda, and usually involving my face and Photoshop, and only unveiled as the event commences.

In previous years I've been Yoda, The Grinch, Santa Claus, Mr. Incredible and Dr.Evil (complete with Mini-Me). The one I liked best up to now was me as James Bond, but this year's production beat it into a cocked hat.

This year, they did Star Trek.

Paramount Pictures Corporation
in association with
Coffee Entertainment
Present
A Bad Robert Production
 
Star Trek: Infection
 
Based on characters and situations created by Gene Roddenberry

Captain’s Log, Star date 7276.3:

"Following an unscheduled layover on Bobulus 4 for repairs, during which the entire crew attended a banquet hosted by its leader, Chancellor Bahb (a former member of the Klingon High Council), it appears that most of the crew are experiencing alarming changes in physical form. The changes appear to occur in three stages, and already, Bones and I have reached stage two (total hair loss); we have ordered resized uniforms in anticipation of the final transformation. We initially thought Lt. Commander Spock had escaped infection, but he is beginning to look incredibly  familiar.                                                                             

Uhura is at an advanced stage, and seems to be losing her mind; she has begun to randomly quote Shakespeare, and insists that all communications systems are backed up hourly.

She has been banned from wearing short skirts.

Many of the crew have had their ID details tattooed on their foreheads to aid identification. The ID’s were structured using a cleverly designed naming convention (my ID is KRKENT01). Bones has been able to link the contamination to a strange concoction of whiskey and coffee served by Chancellor Bahb.  On Federation orders, we are now proceeding at warp speed to the planet Earth, in an attempt to prevent a mass infection, rumoured to be planned for Star date 7278.4 (18th Dec. 2009 earth time). 

While there, we have been ordered to ensure that all those infected are given the antidote, which is only attainable from a mysterious location known as the Palace of Gins.

Captain’s Log, supplemental:

Found the Palace of Gins.........God I love this town.....MUHA.....MUHA..........

MUHAHAHAHHAAHAAAHHAAAAAAAA!!!!"

But it all worked out in the end...

What they'll come up with for next year, I have no clue, but I bet it'll be just as good...