Captain’s Log, Stardate, oh, wait, that’s Pajama Boy stuff.
It had been a while since the last time I had put into port at DS9, and was surprised to see how much things had changed, and not for the better. The Promenade had become some sort of tent city, which is an odd thing to see in the middle of a space station. Protestors most of whom hadn’t showered in a month reeked to high Sto-Vo-Kor, carrying signs like “We are the 99%” and “Tax the 1%”, then “Cardassia Supports Occupy Promenade”, “If I had a job, I couldn’t be here!”, “Legalize Bloodhype” and “Down with Ferengi Billionaires”. The windows at Tunok’s Kill and Grill had been spray-painted with “One Percenter”. Station security were present, as was Starbuck, the refuge from a battlestar; Starbuck was trying to hand out job applications and bars of soap to the protestors, but not finding any takers.
When at last I had made my way to Quark’s, I noticed that several windows had been broken, and the same spray-paint job of “One Percenter” across the doors. Quark’s place was not overly busy, which was surprising as Happy Hour was in full swing. Morn was at his usual spot at the bar; the Doctor had moved his Police Call Box into one corner of the bar; a few other regulars sat about drinking something other than their usual libations.
When I reached the bar, Quark greeted me with what appeared to be the same drink everyone else was having. It was a tall glass filled with a dark brown liquid over ice and topped with a slice of lemon.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Long Island Ice Tea,” Quark responded. “On the house.”
“That’s pretty uncharacteristic of you. What’s the occasion?”
“You’ve seen the Promenade?” Quark asked. It sounded like a dodge of my question.
“Yeah, it was a real stink to get through there to your place.”
“And that’s the reason. I figure anyone willing to get through that mess of stinky hippies to my bar deserves something on the house. Besides, the local Tea Party gave me the money to do it as a counter-protest event. I’m also serving up Alaska Ice Tea, Texas Tea as well as Ferenginar Ice Tea. That last one is a Quark original. I substituted root beer instead of cola. It’s Garak’s favorite.
I took a sip of the drink. The alcohol was present in abundant quantities. I paused, drank a bit more, then said to Quark, “How about a Qo’noS Ice Tea?”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What would that one be?” Quark asked.
“Substitute the cola with blood wine.”
“Of course. I should have thought of that,” Quark said as he slapped his forehead with his right hand in the Intergalactic Sign Language for “Like Duh!” Quark went down the bar and began mixing a new drink, starting with a large amount of blood wine. He looked up at me and asked, “Tribble Sweat instead of Triple Sec?”
“Absolutely. This one is just a tad too sweet.”
“You should try the Ferenginar Ice Tea. The Root Beer makes it all happy and cheerful. Like the Federation.”
“That’s insidious,” I responded.
“I know,” Quark said. He finished mixing the drink, sidled back up to me, and proffered the new drink, sans straw. After all, Klingons don’t use straws.
I took the drink and took a good long pull on it, then quickly drained it.
“Good?” Quark asked.
“majQa’,” I responded. “How about another one?”
“Coming up,” Quark said. As he went to work mixing up a second round for me, Quark asked, “Did you hear what those Fleabaggers did to Morn?”
Being off station for a surfing event, I had no clue, so I signaled Quark to tell me more.
“Well, when Morn was trying to make his way up here after putting into port, he had to get through that Occupy protest. One of those Fleabaggers attached a sign on his back. Then these Fleabaggers began kicking him in the behind and laughing at him all the way here.”
“What did the sign say?” I asked.
“Kick me, I’m a One Percenter,” Quark said.
“These people have no honor,” I said.
“No kidding. When Morn got in here, he looked both relieved and perplexed by what happened. Until I had him turn around so I could remove the sign from his back. When I showed him the sign, Blessed Exchequer, was he livid!”
“I’m surprised they didn’t try that with me.”
Quark looked at me and said, “They wouldn’t have the ears to do it. You’d probably hospitalize the first one that tried to kick you. They’d be better off beating a Wookie at holochess.”
Kahuna out.
