My Trek of the Stars, Part 3: Mudd’s Women

Guest Starring: Roger C. Carmel, Karen Steele, Maggie Thrett, Susan Denberg, Jim Goodwin

First, the Lowdown: The Enterprise picks up a sleazy con-artist and his cargo of Vegas showgirls.

So, there’s the Enterprise, in hot pursuit of an unregistered cargo ship. We’re not given an exact reason why they’re pursuing it, but as anyone who’s been pulled over by the police can attest, it’s probably because their blinker isn’t working. But of course the cargo ship’s commander shows all the cool composure as your average driver in World’s Craziest Police Chases and veers directly toward an asteroid field.

Kirk isn’t a total dick, though, and has the Enterprise’s shields extended around the cargo ship to protect it – even though it means an incredible drain on his own vessel. Realizing that he’s finally in over his head, the cargo ship commander radios for assistance – and just in the nick of time too: his ship gets struck by an asteroid and is destroyed (what about the shields protecting it?) seconds after the commander and crew are transported aboard.

The commander is a smarmy gent who calls himself Leo Walsh and seems none too affected by the loss of his ship. The remaining people on board his ship however, are three women who look like they’re ready for their gig as backup dancers for Tom Jones at the Flamingo. Of course, this being a television show made in the sixties, whenever a beautiful woman in soft focus appears on screen, you can expect most of the male cast members to act like someone slipped Thorazine into their coffee.

Kirk demands to see Walsh and company in his cabin to get some explanation for his actions, and of course he also has a similar reaction as his crewmates to the young lovelies that saunter into his office. Fortunately Kirk is able to conceal his hard-on because he’s sitting at his desk, and informs Walsh that both he and his crew are under charges. Walsh corrects Kirk, on his terminology – the female cohorts aren’t exactly crew, but “cargo”. That’s much like saying that your young 20-year old trophy wife isn’t so much a spouse as “furniture.” Kirk confines the group to quarters until he can figure out what to do with them – or more to the point, how to do it to them discreetly.

But the Enterprise has problems of its own. Seems that Walsh’s little reenactment of the O.J. Simpson highway chase has burnt out all but one of the Enterprise’s lithium crystal circuits. You know that one time you and your college buddies spent all your gas money on beer, and you had to jostle the car just enough to get fumes into the engine to limp your way home? Yeah, it’s like that. Fortunately, there is a lithium mining colony on nearby Rigel XII where they can score some new crystals without having to call Mom home collect so she can wire them some cash.

In the meantime, Walsh has been prepping his “female units” for the upcoming ship’s hearing – insisting the girls answer all questions truthfully, but not allow themselves to be medically examined. Then again, Walsh could’ve explained to the rest of the crew that his girls only speak Sexy and the crew probably would’ve bought it.

The ship’s hearing is convened, and Walsh explains that his main profession is in the “wiving” of settlers. (For more information on how you at home can profit from this wholesome entrepreneurial venture, merely look up “white slavery” on the inter-webs for a free quick-start guide!) Each of the ladies left an environment where their social prospects were limited or non-existent, and decided to seek their fortunes in the arms of an anonymous stranger. Suddenly those Russian & Filipino bride orders don’t seem so bad anymore. However, the interrogation is assisted by the ship’s computer, and as anyone who has watched 1960’s sci-fi can tell you, computers can smell out a lie like a fart in a taxi cab. The computer calls bullshit on Leo Walsh’s name and reputation. Turns out that the man calling himself Leo Walsh with a smarmy Irish brogue is actually Harcourt Fenton Mudd, who speaks with an accent that sounds like a looser version of Charles Winchester from M.A.S.H. Mudd’s reputation is about as sullied as a Republican senatorial page after a weekend “togetherness retreat” – having been arrested many times on theft and smuggling charges. Kirk has heard enough and decides to foist Mudd off on the proper authorities and let them deal with it. But at that moment, the final lithium crystal gives up the ghost, forcing the Enterprise to limp onward using only battery power. Figuring they can scrape up the change under the floormats for at least one crystal, Kirk orders the ship to haul ass to Rigel. Mudd knows the sound of money when he hears it though and hatches a plan. He tells his women that soon their financial woes will be over with once they’re married to the hale, hearty, and wealthy prospectors on Rigel. He also suggests they try to win one or two of the miners over with a free stress exam and a copy of Dianetics.

So whilst the Enterprise is en route to Rigel, the lady-creatures stroll about the ship, wresting information from its mostly-male and extremely pliable crew using their boobied powers of beguilement. From their outing, they not only find out that there are three miners down on Rigel (how handy!), but also manage to palm a communicator off a crewman. (Word to the wise, gents: the next time an unbelievably hot chick cops a feel off of you, make sure your wallet and iPhone are where you put them.) One of the ladies, Eve, slides her way into Kirk’s quarters with the firm intention on seducing his brains out, but at the last minute confesses that she can’t go through with it, even though Harry Mudd told her to do so. Eve returns back to her quarters, tells Harry that Gloria Steinem was right, and collapses in the corner saying that “it’s almost time.” Harry, however, uses his purloined communicator to contact the Rigel prospectors before Kirk can, and strikes up a bargain.

But it’s not all wheeling and dealing as Harry’s girls soon start to resemble a soccer mom the morning after a marguerita bender. After quickly rifling through his quarters, he finds a pill box containing the ladies’ “medicine” – which transforms them back into the Rubenesque strippers they previously were.

The miners arrive onboard the Enterprise, and Kirk offers to pay them up front for their crystals, but instead the lead miner – Childress – asks to see Harry’s women as barter and also asks for Mudd’s release. Furthermore, Childress lets Kirk know that there’s no way in hell the Enterprise is gonna find lithium crystals on their own, not even with their fancy-schmancy sensors and such. Kirk tells the flinty laborers to keep their dirty hands off his womenfolk and boots them off the ship, even though the Enterprise is slowly dieseling to a complete and total stop.

Down on Rigel, the miners have decided to throw a mixer for Mudd’s women, even though Kirk is becoming increasingly aware of the possibility of his ship dropping out of the sky like a defective Macy’s Day Parade balloon. Eve is getting increasingly sickened by the prospect of being auctioned off like a foreclosed crack house and runs outside into a raging sandstorm. Childress goes off after her, leaving Kirk to contemplate the horrors of unprotected reentry into a planet’s atmosphere.

Childress finally finds Eve and drags her back to his squalid hovel, and passes out from exhaustion. (Dragging a showgirl around ain’t no easy task.) Hours later, Childress is awakened to the smell of Eve cooking, and is disturbed by the fact that she’s only been in his place for two hours and already she’s picked up the clothes off his floor. Meanwhile, Kirk and company have been scanning for Eve’s location up in the Enterprise and have detected Childress’s cook stove. And it’s a good thing too, because a few more hours later Eve’s drugs have worn off and Childress is starting to look at her like he had just woken up next to Tammy Faye Baker. Fortunately Kirk and Mudd arrive to explain what’s going on: the pills that Harry has been giving his women are Venus drugs – which instantly make you appear attractive. (Unlike Botox, which only makes you think you appear more attractive.) Eve points out to Childress that he and his cohorts only seem to be interested in a woman who is hyped up on the pretty sauce, rather than someone who knows how to take care of herself. Childress, concedes the matter with a “Yes, dear,” and gives Kirk the crystals he’s been so obviously vying for.

Things to look for in this episode:

The soundtrack: Whenever one of Mudd’s chicas enters the frame, the score makes it appear like you’re going to see them in their pasties soon. I’m surprised there wasn’t a brassiere flung at a crewman’s head.

Harcourt Fenton Mudd: He’s supposed to be this pirate/pimp, but in reality he acts like the boorish antagonist out of one of Oscar Wilde’s comedies.

What is McCoy not today? Capable of forming complete sentences in the presence of a woman. That’s not what they meant by “bedside manner,” Herr Doktor.

And what about Spock? Spock has his usual “not-completely human” half-smirk on his face. I guess the human male’s inability to think straight with an erection is the height of Vulcan comedy.