A Picard Christmas Log
'Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the ship,
Not a sensor was chirping, not even a
blip.
Alone in my quarters, I'd just settled in,
'Twas time
to write the crew's evals again.
I reached for my padd and a cup
of Earl Grey,
And read through all that I wanted to say.
I'd
rated my officers right at the top,
I considered each one the
cream of the crop.
But then, with a flash, there
appeared you-know-who.
No. Not Santa. Just that miserable Q.
He
sported a fuzzy red cap on his head,
But he lacked a big sack,
'twas a briefcase instead.
With a smirk on his lips and a
gleam in his eye,
He said "Don't get up! Just thought I'd
drop by."
I sighed and said "Q, I wish you would
leave."
"I have much to do on this late Christmas Eve."
Q sat on my desk and he snatched
up my padd.
"When you see what I brought you, you'll surely
be glad."
"Q", I snarled, "I fail to see,"
"What you could have of interest to me."
"Jean-Luc, I know you think
little of me."
"But give me a chance, and I'm sure you
will see."
"I really want to help you this night,"
"And since I'm almighty, that gives me the right."
He studied the evals, chuckled
and sneered,
And then with a snap, my padd disappeared!
I
leapt to my feet with a shout of outrage.
"I want those
files back, every last page!"
With a theatrical flourish, he
waved in the air,
And I suddenly found myself back in my chair.
At that, Q gave me an infectious grin.
Then opened his
briefcase and reached deep within.
He pulled out documents, sheet
after sheet.
And placed them before me, stacked quite neat.
"Please have a seat, Oh Mon Capitone!"
"I
think you'll agree these are second to none."
I saw that I would get nothing
else done.
Unless I played along with Q's twisted fun.
"I'll
look through these papers," I said with dismay.
"But
after I'm through, will you please go away?"
He nodded and smiled as I picked
up a sheet
I saw with relief that at least it was neat.
Q had
rewritten my work for the night.
But I quickly noticed that much
was not right.
The revised eval that I held in
my hand,
Said things about Will that I never had planned.
"Overly tall, with an unruly beard."
"Dates
holodeck women, a trait to be feared."
Next was the eval with Beverly's
name.
But I saw that only the age was the same.
"A
liberal mother whose boy runs wild."
"She hits on her
captain (that's putting it mild)."
I looked at the next sheet that
sat on the stack.
When I saw what it said, I was taken aback.
"Worf's forehead is wrinkled; he sports a wild mane."
"His family problems are always a pain."
With quivering hands, I snatched
the next page.
The things Q had written filled me with rage.
"As
chief engineer, Geordi keeps a good shop."
"But his
flirting with ensigns simply must stop!"
I said to myself, "I'll read
just one more."
But this was worse than the previous four!
"Troi cannot decide what to wear to her post."
"And
her daily hairdos are no reason to boast."
I snatched up the last, hoping Q
would relent.
But his inputs on Data were decidedly bent.
"Keeping tabs on Data has been quite a chore."
"A
couple of times he turned out to be Lore."
I slapped the sheets down and I
glared at my foe.
"Q, even for you this is despicably low."
Q gave me a look of wounded pride.
His jaw dropped down, and
his eyes opened wide.
"Jean-Luc, even with your
lame human brain,"
"You can see that I've written these
just for your gain."
"These clever evals are your key
to success."
"Submit all of these and you'll beat every
mess."
I shook my head. "That's
ridiculous, Q!"
"These wretched evals will just hurt my
crew!"
Q rolled his eyes as I sat quite confused.
"I
see that I'll have to explain," he mused.
"If you write grand evals,
they'll all get promoted."
"And then they'll be
snatched by an admiral bloated."
"Your fabulous crew
will be scattered old vets."
"And you will be stuck
breaking in new cadets."
Q bowed to me and said "Mon
Capitone!"
Spun once on his heels, and then he was gone.
I
started to discard his vile reviews.
But stopped as I realized
what he'd said was true.
If I turned in evals that were
filled with praise,
I'd lose my whole crew in a matter of days.
I felt my spirits beginning to lift,
As I fed the computer
Q's Christmas gift.
Then I glanced out my window and
to my dismay,
I saw Q racing off in a warp-powered sleigh.
He
looked back at me and I heard him declare,
"Merry Christmas,
Jean-Luc! Next year I'll bring hair!"