Czars, Czars, Everywhere Czars

Captain’s Log, Stardate…oh, wait, that’s Pajama Boy stuff.

I was over at Quark’s for Happy Hour and catching up on the news. As always, the main screen was tuned to Targ News. Quark angled over to where I was sitting at the bar with my first round of Guinness with a Tribble Sweat chaser.

“Did you hear the news?” he asked.

“Apparently not,” I responded.

“Cisco recommended you to the President of the Federation to appoint you as the Surfing Czar.”

The last thing I needed was to be involved in the Federation President’s Administration.

“So?”

Quark sidled up closer and continued, “The Duras Sisters were also being considered.”

“That’s nice.” Actually, I could see them involved in Obama’s Administration easier than myself. I drank my Guinness and, noticing the expression on his face, set the empty glass down gently rather than slamming it upside-down on the counter.

“Cisco told me that Obama said, ‘no’, because your Klingons,” the last part was barely a whisper.

“No kidding,” I said. “We’re Klingons? Who’d have thought?” I said. With that, I picked up the shot glass of Tribble Sweat, slugged it down and, much to quark’s chagrin, slammed the empty glass upside-down on the bar, making a thunderous noise. Quark grimaced at me.

“Dammit, Kahuna, how many times do I have to tell you not to slam the glasses on the bar? It hurts my ears!” Quark was annoyed. I simply grinned at back at him, with a ‘What? Who me?’ expression on my face.

“So, who did Obama appoint as the new Surfing Czar?” I asked, not really curious, but I could tell he wanted to tell me.

“John F. Kerry!” Quark said triumphantly.

“Flipper Kerry?”

“Yep.”

“So, Obama has appointed the Ripple Ranger as his Surfing Czar.” This got a laugh out of the few people sitting near us. “At least it gets that joker out of the Senate.”

“Well, not exactly,” Quark said. “You see, Obama has determined that it would be okay for Flipper to perform both roles concurrently as neither one is very taxing.”

“Not very taxing except on those who have to pay the taxes they impose,” I said, getting more chuckles from the peanut gallery.

Quark looked like he had more to tell me. “Okay, spill it. What else have you got?”

“Obama has also appointed a Victory Czar.”

“Let me guess. Captain James T. Kirk?”

“Nope, Captain Jean-Luc Piccard.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I thought you said Obama appointed a new Victory Czar, not Surrender.”

“Well, in the Obama Administration, surrender is victory,” said Quark.

“Next thing you know,” I said, “he’ll be appointing that holographic doctor from the Jupiter 2 has his new Health Care Czar.”

“That was last week,” said Quark.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was overcome by the ludicrousness of the new Federation. Quark decided I needed another round and quickly produced a fresh pint of Guinness and a shot of Tribble Sweat.

Kahuna out.