Star Trek Episode: The Federer Salvage

SATIRE — Captain Kirk (Spoken in pauses and quick sentences):  Captain's Log Stardate 0423157 point 2.  The Enterprise has gone through time travel back to 2009 to investigate a possible malfunction of one...tennis spy drone and to...de-commission an older one.
The...purpose of these...drones..are two-fold.  The primary focus is to...collect as much...information-on-the-early 21st century culture so that the Federation can...keep the universal time-lines intact.
The second and equally important purpose is to elevate the game of men's tennis which has become...boring...and...dull!
Spock:  Captain, upon researching the earth history data-banks, I have found that the 1981 spy drone has slipped in its performance while the 1956 model has made a series of public re-appearances to observe the 1981 model.
While the 1956 model seems supportive of its younger sibling it has come out and consistently predicted against the 1981's success on numerous occasions.  Quite curious these human made drones.
Dr. McCoy:  They are drones for God's sake.  Only thing worse than that would be a Vulcan convention on the protocols of logic!
Spock: To be politically correct, Doctor, I find your humor to be mentally-challenged.
Dr. McCoy: Why you green-blooded Vulcan...
Captain Kirk: Gentlemen, we...cannot spend this episode fighting...we've....got work to do.  Since the...Enterprise is in no immediate danger - Bones, Spock, Mr. Chekhov and two of the red uniform guys that will die - you're all with me to beam down.
Scotty!
Mr. Scott:  Aye, Captain
Captain Kirk:  I need you here on the Enterprise in case we...have to blow something up!  Gentlemen, transporter room please.  Mr. Scott, beam us down to the Sony Ericsson Open, April 2009 and...hurry!
Mr. Scott: Aye, Sir
The landing party beams down to the lounge area of the men's locker room.  All the tennis players are glued to the high-placed large tv set. 
Roger Federer is battling Novak Djokovic for a berth in the finals against Andy Murray. As the crew watches along with everyone, they see Federer break his racket.  Everyone reacts stunned.
Captain Kirk:  Spock, we need...to get to him...somehow!
Spock:  Captain, I believe we are in a prestigious place called the men's locker room.  I believe he will come to us.
Federer loses the match and leaves the court coming into the locker-room.  Kirk motions Spock around the other side and approaches Federer himself.
Captain Kirk:  Mr. Federer, I am.........
Roger Federer (can't wait for the pause):  Look, I don't have time for an interview much less a reporter who cannot finish his sentences and I am really not in the mood.
Captain Kirk: Is that Nadal over there?
Roger Federer (turns around): Where?
BA-NAAA!  Spock vulcan-pinches Roger Federer who slinks to the ground.  They drag him to a small private room where they work on him. 
Spock opens up the back of his head which lights up like an night-time airstrip.  Spock puts in a new vitalized computer chip and closes up the back of Federer's head. 
Captain Kirk flicks open his communicator.
Captain Kirk: Scotty, beam us to Stockholm, Sweden and...hurry!
The crew beam to a small downtown club where Bjorn Borg is talking to a few reporters.  Borg sees the crew appearing and immediately runs off.  Captain Kirk and his landing party chase after him. 
Captain Kirk:  After him, he is getting away!
They pursue Borg down to the Swedish subway.  Borg tries to jump on a moving train and misses, landing on the tracks and receives 50,000 volts of energy. 
The two red uniforms being the first to arrive, are about to phaser Borg when he zaps them killing them instantly.  Borg goes back on the track to zap more energy from the system. 
He zaps a hole in the wall and rides his own electrical current discharge right into the open air and out of the area.
Kirk and the crew finally show up and survey the area.  McCoy tends to the two red-uniformed crewmen. 
Dr. McCoy:  They're dead, Jim.
Spock stares at the subway wall.  Kirk comes to see what Spock is looking at.
Spock: Fascinating.
Across the wall in black burnt-out letters spelled the ominous sign:
I AM BORG!!
Captain Kirk: Spock, I believe we just witnessed the birth of something...something...Spock: Evil, Captain?
Captain Kirk: Yes, evil and will you quit trying to finish my sentences...I cannot...Spock: Think?
Captain Kirk: ...function!!  Scotty, four to beam up.
Dr. McCoy: I call shotgun!!
Spock: Really, doctor.
The party beams back to the Enterprise.  Later Kirk again concludes his log.
Captain Kirk:  Captain's log stardate 023578 point 2.  We were.....successful in repairing the 1981 spy drone.  It is already responding well.
However, we could not capture the 1956 model and now....it refers to itself...to what we only know now as ...The Borg...
I wonder if it will become another..... challenge for mankind yet to...encounter.   We have searched and searched for it, not finding anything.  I suspect...it is...long...gone.   Oh well...probably it will be...someone else's problem.
Kirk out.

The Nadals Consult a Medicine Man (Humor)

SATIRE — Tony Nadal was impatient. "Vamos, Rafa! We are going to miss di appointment!" Behind him Rafael Nadal hobbled along grimacing in pain.
Tony Nadal: Now let me do all the talking. I paid a lat of money so we could see dis specialist.
Es name es Doctor Hook! He speak different in English so let me andle dis! Buenos Dias, Doctor Hook!
Dr. Hook: Hey mannnn! How is it hanging? Peace to you and the dude in the bandanna man. Far out, reminds me of my days in Death Valley, Cali-forn-i-a!!
Tony Nadal: Hola, Doctor. We came to see jou bout my nephew's knis.
Dr. Hook: Oh yeah, right on. Hey man, I saw you on the tv, man. You lost in that tennis match against that army brush-cut guy. That totally sucked, man.
Tony Nadal: Jes, tankyu...we need to get heem back in form for da Wimbledon tennis in da two week.
Dr. Hook: Right on, man. The GRASS tournament. I love GRASS, man. I love layin in it, playin in it, and smokin it. Grass heaven, man!
Tony Nadal: Jou say jou can do sometheeng for heem!
Dr. Hook: Oh yeah, man. I consulted my doobie Mr. Peyote and wow, I got a real vision about how to help your man be the man, man.
Tony Nadal: Ok, so whad do we nid to do?
Dr. Hook: You godda trust me, man. I got something for your blood man, but he needs to trust me and believe me, your boy will be king. Do you trust me, man?
Tony consults his nephew. They go back and forth. Finally, Tony comes back to the Doctor.
Tony Nadal: Ok, we trus you. Tell us what we do now.
Dr. Hook: Get your boy up here on the table.
Nadal sits up on the table. Dr. Hook looks at his upper body.
Dr. Hook: Awesome abs, man. I would kill for this body when the surf's up.
Rafael Nadal: Que? (He looks at his Uncle Tony who shrugs it off)
Dr. Hook: Ok here's the deal, man. He has got excellent upper body strength and that is important. I have got a special tool for his knees, man.
I am glad I have your trust because I don't normally do this. I need to ask you a few question first.
Tony Nadal: Chure!
Dr. Hook: Okay, man. First, I can make it so that he will compete and probably win the French Open for the next ten years.
All his present competitors will not be able to compete with him. His knees will no longer be an issue.
Tony Nadal: Jes, Jes, Jes!!! Dis is what we want.
Both Nadals are excited. Dr. Hook gets out a huge heavy hammer.
Dr. Hook: This is gonna hurt, but I have to hit the specific part of the knee so it is important that your boy does not move too much.
Tony Nadal explains it to his nephew who closes his eyes and braces for the pain. Half an hour later, Rafa is still in agony with his knees.
Dr. Hook comes out with a large bag full of green substance and a wheelchair.
Dr. Hook: Sit him in the wheelchair and have him smoke this marijuana, man. Don't worry, man—it's legal if you are using it for medication and trust me—he needs it.
Tony Nadal: So tell me Doctor, when hees knis going to get better?
Dr. Hook: Oh, his knees are fu**ed, man. He will never walk again. The great thing is that he can compete in the wheelchair division of all the Grand Slams, man.
His upper body strength and topspin shots will mean he will be a great champion for the next ten years.
Tony Nadal's eyes went livid with rage and he immediately chased the doctor out of the clinic and down the street. Rafa was trying to keep up in his wheelchair.
Tony Nadal: I gonna keel you if I catch you. (Looks behind him) Vamos, Rafa!!!
Dr. Hook: Well, at least this time, it is not the whole village with torches, man. (He sniffs) Grass season is approaching man, and I am getting a whiff of the good stuff due North-east.
Dr. Hook disappears leaving Tony Nadal out of breath with Nadal approaching.
Tony sits on Nadal's lap.
Tony Nadal: Jou training starts right now. Vamos, back to town. Vamos!!!
And so, a new life of tennis domination awaited the number one seed.
The End.

Roger Federer: "Where Is the @#&*$# Cheque?"

SATIRE — After all the media covering the French Open had packed up to leave, Roger Federer was still yet to leave the stadium.
He had fought hard and won the French Open but another matter was still unsettled.  He chased after the small Frenchman who he had shared the podium.
The little man looked over his shoulders and saw a determined Roger Federer chasing after him.
"Oh la-la!" the man yelled before his feet went into action.  He ran around the stadium with Roger in hot pursuit.  They both entered the deserted clay court and the man was gaining speed.
Roger's father tossed him a racket and his wife Mirka threw down a tennis ball.  Federer served a heavy topspin shot that beaned the back of the running man's head.  He went down like a ton of bricks.
Federer was on him and heaved him by his lapels.  "Where is my cheque?  Where is the money?", he asked.
"Je ne sais pas, Monsieur Federer.  I don't have it!"  the man said in a state of panic.  Federer was unconvinced.
"Do you think I was born yesterday.  I have played in many of these slams finals and there is always a presentation of a cheque."  He tightened the lapels, constricting the man's breathing.
"Ok, Ok let me get your cheque.", he said brushing the clay off of his suit.  "You, Swiss really are frugal!"  He searched through his clothes and produced a soggy cheque.  "It is wet from the rain."
Federer examined the cheque.  "This cheque is dated May 10th, 2009 and it is made out to Rafael Nadal!"  He glared down at the short Frenchman.
"Please monsieur, how were we to know that you were going to win?  Nadal always wins this tournament, n'est ce pas?"
Roger Federer scolded him with his racket. "I want that cheque made out and sent to me immediately.  Do you understand?  If I don't get it right away, the French Open will become the Swiss Open."
"Oui Monsieur!" said the man as he started to leave.  Federer was not finished.
"Wait!!", he shouted to the man. "Where is my car?"
The man embarrassingly took the keys out of his pocket.  "Ha-ha, I almost forgot.  Your car is parked in Section D on the north side.  It is a stunning 2009 Peugot."
As the Frenchman made off, Roger's father joined Roger.  "Did you get the money?", He asked.  Roger replied, "No, but he is going to send it to me otherwise we will buy out the French Open and bring it to Switzerland."
Robert Federer patted his son on the back.  "Great job and great day, son!"
Roger laughed.  "Not only that, I have a 2009 Peugot waiting for me at Section D on the north side.", he said flailing the car keys.
His father looked grimaced.  "Son, I know this stadium well.  The north side has no Section D."
Roger looked at the direction in which the Frenchman had gone and immediately bolted his legs into a sprinting action.
"Hey you bl**dy Frenchman!! Get back here!!!!