Free Shatnerquake by Jeff Burk Page B

the flashing lights of emergency vehicles around him and only half-heard the person run up to him.
               
    “Are you OK, sir?” they asked, throwing a blanket over him.
               
    Shatner didn’t respond.   He just cried and started kissing the ground.
               
    The person pulled him to his feet as two other people ran over.   They guided him to the back of an ambulance as they talked.   Shatner’s head hung low the whole time.   The pain had resided but there was now a low drone that filled his hearing.  
               
    “Is it…”
               
    “I think so.”
               
    “Sir?   Sir?   Are you OK?   Can you tell me your name?”
               
    Shatner slumped against the side of the ambulance and started laughing, “I’m…William Shatner.”
               
    He laughed so hard his eyes teared up.   He rolled his head around giggling.
     
    When he looked at the paramedics he started screaming.  
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FOURTEEN
     
     
    The bar was darkly lit and people disappeared into shadows along the wall.   It was just what Shatner was looking for.   He found a stool at the bar and took a seat.   His head ached with a dull throb.
               
    The bartender came over.   “What can I get you?”
               
    William Shatner looked into his own face.   “Whiskey…on the rocks.”
               
    The bartender placed down the drink and Shatner paid, tipping generously.  
               
    He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills.   He popped three in his mouth and downed them with a swallow of whiskey.   The bartender watched this happen but said nothing and left to attend to other customers.
     
    Shatner sipped his drink and looked around the room.   He saw himself sitting at three other spots at the bar, a group of four hims were at a table, and two of him were making out in a back corner booth.
               
    He chugged the rest of the drink, his head feeling slightly better as the drug cocktail numbed him, and waved the bartender over for another.   He spent the rest of the night with his head low, slamming back whiskey and downing pills.  
               
    The bartender announced last call and Shatner stood up, preparing to leave.
               
    “Excuse me, are you William Shatner?”
               
    He turned and saw himself wearing a very short, very tight red dress.  
     
    The Shatner batted his eyes at him and held out his hand.   “It’s an honor to meet you.   I’ve been a fan for a long time.   A very long time.”
     
    Shatner looked at the hand.   “Thanks.”   He turned and headed for the exit.  
     
    The Shatner jumped in front of him.   “This may be a bit forward of me, but, my place is just around the corner.   Would you care to come over for a…nightcap?”
     
    Shatner looked at himself.   Somewhere in the back of his brain was that constant pain but the one-two punch of alcohol and painkillers was taking care of that for now.   What the Hell.   He had to admit, he was a fine-looking man.
               
    The two went out the bar’s doors together.   The Shatner put his (her?) arm around him and guided him away from the bar.
     
    “Give me some sugar baby,” yelled someone from across the street.
     
    Shatner turned around and saw a Shatner wearing a long black coat on the other side of the street.   The Shatner threw open the coat and two things were apparent:
     
    1:   He was missing his right hand.
     
    2:   He was wearing a vest of dynamite.   
     
    The Shatner began running across the street towards him.   Shatner let go of his hook-up and ran to meet him.  
     
    They met in the middle of the road.   William Shatner wrapped one arm tightly around the Campbellian’s waist and the other around his neck, and then dipped him