Marooned in this hot, humid, backwater town on an insignificant planet, the Klingon Capt. pInluH approaches the cluster of puny humans who are taking in the action. The captain is nearly 7 feet tall, his left arm is amputated at the elbow--lost in what must have been one glorious battle--and his gut hangs pendulously over his belt. He’s an aging warrior, but he’s bad news to be sure. He swaggers up to the earthlings, humans and some Vulcans, steadily swigging from cans of Old Milwaukee.

pInluH queries, “Are you ready to rock?”

The crowd is pensive. The Vulcans just stare at the spiny carapace of his forehead. Some smirk.

“I said,” he bellows, “are you ready to rock?” More smirks.

“I do not believe you are ready to rock,” pInluH says with a huff, and then he strides off.

At a sidewalk table nearby, documentary filmmaker Roger Nygard is taking in the scene with a childlike look of delight on his face.

You can sleep safely. Star Trek tribute bands exist.