Disaster aboard the Enterprise has been averted. Upon receiving the missive from the real Ensign Kevin via the BlogoMaticTeleporter, I put a plan into action. By holding the SliderAromaActivator in front of me as I ran stealthily through the starship, I was able to hold the TriBorgs at bay, as they ran in fear and loathing from the wafting smell of fried onions and burgers. Then, once they were clustered around Borgmaster Ryan, I activated their iPlasma wristbands, so that they were suddenly all raptly watching famed triathlete Peter Reid discoursing on the difference in caloric intake between a daily 1,000 calories and 1,050 and how that additional 50 calories via wheatgrass juice helps him increase his wattage by .004. With the furious notetaking that ensued, I was able to slip past the Alpha Sector unnoticed.
I soon discovered Ensign Kevin in the Delta Sector, fending off the drones with nothing more than nunchucks and a corkscrew. We quickly dispatched the drones by pelting them with their most feared substance, i.e. Lemonheads. I then was able to offer Ensign Kevin a much needed supply of transitional food, Clif Bloks and Sharkies, aka candy masquerading as energy/fitness snacks, of which I am a huge, huge fan. Our poor Ensign had been bravely subsisting on protein bars and Infinit, in the absence of vastly superior and healthier fare like the brats and Swedish Fish I usually rely on to keep me in peak training shape.
I will not soon forget the sight of Ensign Kevin faced with the specter of being down to his last Twinkie. Shudder. I am not sure I myself would have been so strong under those same circumstances.
The TriBorgs have now been confined to the Alpha Sector, which had doubled as storage space and now contains a vast supply of old gadgets such as the CycleopsRaygun 6200 Trainer and numerous Jazzercise videos, all of which will keep them preoccupied for many stardates to come.
Of course, now that we are aware that Ensign Kevin has an evil and overly serious TriCyBorg clone in existence, we must remain ever vigilant should he again attempt to make an appearance. I am confident we will keep him contained, though our small but fearless crew stands prepared to beat the crap out of the CyBorg should he attempt another takeover.
I soon discovered Ensign Kevin in the Delta Sector, fending off the drones with nothing more than nunchucks and a corkscrew. We quickly dispatched the drones by pelting them with their most feared substance, i.e. Lemonheads. I then was able to offer Ensign Kevin a much needed supply of transitional food, Clif Bloks and Sharkies, aka candy masquerading as energy/fitness snacks, of which I am a huge, huge fan. Our poor Ensign had been bravely subsisting on protein bars and Infinit, in the absence of vastly superior and healthier fare like the brats and Swedish Fish I usually rely on to keep me in peak training shape.
I will not soon forget the sight of Ensign Kevin faced with the specter of being down to his last Twinkie. Shudder. I am not sure I myself would have been so strong under those same circumstances.
The TriBorgs have now been confined to the Alpha Sector, which had doubled as storage space and now contains a vast supply of old gadgets such as the CycleopsRaygun 6200 Trainer and numerous Jazzercise videos, all of which will keep them preoccupied for many stardates to come.
Of course, now that we are aware that Ensign Kevin has an evil and overly serious TriCyBorg clone in existence, we must remain ever vigilant should he again attempt to make an appearance. I am confident we will keep him contained, though our small but fearless crew stands prepared to beat the crap out of the CyBorg should he attempt another takeover.
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