Fucking score.
I don’t know if it was Mötley Crüe, Jay Z, or British power group Sailor who said it best, but this episode is all about Girls, Girls, Girls and just how horny a crew (a co-ed one at that) can get when exploring the deepest reaches of space. Judging by the male crew’s reaction to the girls, tacky glittered evening wear and a high hem line may be a more magnificent sight than anything that exploring the cosmos has to offer. After all, when you’re in Starfleet you can see nebulas form like clouds in the night, or can witness a bright yellow star engulf an entire solar system every day. None of that stirring, awe-inspiring cosmic bullshit measures up to anything when compared to a set of legs from here to Little Rock. This is doubly so when the popular trend in hairstyles for girls on your crew involves basket weaving, and the closest thing to an attractive female you’ve seen in weeks was three feet tall and had hooves.Needless to say, the male population of the Enterprise becomes hopelessly and eerily entranced by their new passengers. By far the best reaction of the crew comes from Dr. McCoy, who slaps on such a creepy face of wanton desire each time he’s around any of the women it’s pathetic. The man goes right past simple romantic infatuation or even pathetic lustful longing and goes straight into leering, hair smelling territory.
A face like that doesn't even convey lust so much as a desire to rape, eat, and make a lampshade out of someone. If I looked at anyone the way McCoy fawns for those girls I would have a restraining order slapped on me within seconds. A passing policeman would arrest me on the street and be given a medal of valor for it. The images running behind that man’s eyes are nothing short of vomit inducing. I don’t see how he managed to get a medical license with a response like that.
Of course McCoy's perverse reaction isn't all his fault since the ship's captain, Harcourt Fenton Mudd, has been drugging the girls with beauty pills with the intent of selling them off to rich wifeless space barons. It seems that the blackmarket trade of human trafficking and forcing women into loveless marriages still hasn't been resolved in the next two hundred years, which I suppose is good news for the GNP of Slovenia. The sad part here isn't that Kirk has a problem with selling off wives so much as how shocked everyone is at just how goddamn ugly they are without their beauty pills.
Of course McCoy's perverse reaction isn't all his fault since the ship's captain, Harcourt Fenton Mudd, has been drugging the girls with beauty pills with the intent of selling them off to rich wifeless space barons. It seems that the blackmarket trade of human trafficking and forcing women into loveless marriages still hasn't been resolved in the next two hundred years, which I suppose is good news for the GNP of Slovenia. The sad part here isn't that Kirk has a problem with selling off wives so much as how shocked everyone is at just how goddamn ugly they are without their beauty pills.
Blegh!
It all works out for everyone in the end though. Mudd goes to prison, the Enterprise fixes their ship, and the girls live a life without beauty married into a lonely life of servitude on a desolate mining planet. But at least they find out that the beauty is within!
This is Star Trek.
Harcourt Fenton Mudd, Austrailian Irish Leprechaun Hunter Gypsy... in space.
In the future, playing cards are round.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
He's Dead Jim:
Death Toll: 0
Total Star Trek Death Toll: 56
On the next episode...
Old people kiss. EWWWW
