“They’re called Ceti eels and they are the worst, babe. Really, you’re lucky I chose to get drunk because you do not want me carrying out the will of Khan Noonien Singh in this house. It would end poorly.”
Your wife crosses her arms. You promised her you’d stop drinking and now you’re feeding her this bullshit story about the road on the way to the grocery store being closed and the detour sign giving you a choice between booze and the mind control bugs from Star Trek II.
You think she’s buying it.
“I mean,” you continue, “look what happened to Captain Terrell.”
She raises an eyebrow and shifts her hips. Obviously she doesn’t know who Captain Terrell is.
“You know, he was Chekov’s captain in that movie.”
No change.
“Chekov wasn’t serving on the Enterprise in Wrath of Khan. He was on the Reliant and his commanding officer was Captain Terrell. He died because he was under the influence of a Ceti eel.”
No reaction.
“Babe, we’ve gone over this before. I thought you agreed to start paying attention on movie night when I agreed to stop drinking. Now, unless you’ve got an equally compelling reason why you didn’t take notes as I did to why I got hammered, I’m afraid I’m gonna be a little bit upset.”
Your wife sighs deeply before turning and walking out of the room.
“Yeah!” you shout to her. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
You’re pretty sure you’re off Scotty free.