How the Borg Stole Prixin
By monkee
Summary: Seven must find a way to stop Prixin from coming!
Disclaimers: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all its characters. Dr. Seuss owns 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' and I humbly bow to his genius.
~*~
All the crew
Up on Voyager
Liked Prixin a lot…
But Seven,
Who lived in the cargo bay,
Did NOT!
Seven hated Prixin! The whole Prixin season!
Oh, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be her implants weren't screwed in just right.
It could be, perhaps, that her clothes were too tight.
But I'll tell you what I think, if you won't be a prig –
I think that her boobs were three sizes too big!
But whatever the reason, her clothes or her boobs,
She stood there on Prixin Eve hating the crew.
Staring down from her alcove with a cold, Borg-y frown
At sensor data from the messhall, just two decks down.
For she knew that there Neelix was bustling about
Getting all the good Prixin champagne glasses out.
"He's fermenting the compote!" she snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Prixin! It's practically here!"
Then she growled, with her Borg fingers nervously strumming,
"I MUST find a way to stop Prixin from coming!"
For,
Tomorrow, she knew…
All the crew girls and boys
Would come off-duty early, and dress with much poise.
And then! Oh the noise! Oh the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing she hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!
They'd smile and they'd laugh and they'd tell lots of jokes,
About friendship, and family, and sweet anecdotes!
And THEN
They'd do something
She liked least of all!
All the crew on the ship, the large and the small,
Would stand close together, with Tuvok hosting,
They'd all raise their glasses – and the crew would start toasting!
They'd toast! And they'd toast!
And they'd TOAST! TOAST! TOAST! TOAST!
Yes, that toast was the one thing she hated the most!
And the more Seven thought of the crew-Prixin-fling,
The more Seven thought, "I must stop this whole thing!
Why for nearly three years I've put up with it now!
I must stop this Prixin from coming!
…but HOW ?"
Then she got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE BORG
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
"I know just what to do, but I'm going to need help."
Just then the door chimed, and she let out a yelp !
But when the door opened, it was the smallest of the crew,
Little Naomi Wildman, who was no more than…
well, five, or nine, or twelve…no one quite knew.
"Assist me!" the sly Borg said to the child.
"I will comply," said Naomi, and she actually smiled.
They waited 'til gamma shift, then beamed themselves in,
To the mess hall at last, where the lights were quite dim.
Dressed in black they crept past Neelix's oven mitts,
With cargo containers and anti-grav units.
On the counter some fruit rotted and glowed.
"This compote," Seven said, "is the first thing to go."
Then she slunk to the icebox. She took the crew's feast!
She took the champagne, and the replicated Targ beast!
She took the hair pasta, and the bloodworm tartar!
Some spicy steamed spiders, something green in a jar!
She took all the food, getting more and more vexed,
While Naomi looked on, quite clearly perplexed.
She cleaned out that icebox, the cold, heartless shrew.
Why that Borg even took the leola root stew!
It was a quarter past ship's dawn when they returned to the bay,
The crew was still sleeping – still snoozing away.
On an anti-grav sled, the boxes were stacked,
Each one held Prixin food, hurriedly packed.
Seven went to her console to beam them to space,
But was stopped by the look on Naomi's pale face.
She stared at the Borg, and said, "Seven, why?
Why are you spacing the Prixin food, WHY?"
Seven looked and the kid's eyes were teary and wide,
She explained, "Prixin makes me feel funny inside.
Friendship and family's what Prixin's about.
I just don't fit in! I feel left out!"
Naomi said, "Seven, you're family to me.
And you have lots of friends – why, just go and see!
Prixin is fun if you just take it slow,
You could go with the Doctor – he likes you, you know."
Seven scoffed at the child, and said, "What a sap!
You're not needed here – just go take a nap!"
She switched on the sensors, preparing to sneer
At the crews disappointment, their anger, their tears!
But what she saw on the viewscreen just had her stunned,
Prixin hadn't been cancelled – it had only begun!
Tuvok was toasting the crews downs and ups,
As they raised their plain water, in white paper cups!
She HADN'T stopped Prixin from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And what happened then…?
Well on Voyager they say
That the Borg's great big boobs,
Well, they stayed the same way.
But she started to think, about friendship and family,
And the Doctor, and Janeway, and little Naomi.
She thought "Maybe Prixin's not really that bad.
I have reasons to be grateful! Reasons to be glad!
I no longer have tubes coming out of my head.
I no longer hear voices! And hey, I'm not dead !"
So she rushed through the corridors, her accomplice in tow,
She brought back the food, to the mess hall below.
She brought back the spiders, the hair and the ice cream!
The champagne, the bloodworms, the stuff that was green!
She brought back the glasses, the compote, the Targ roast!
And she…
She the Borg, gave the first toast!
The End.