Captain's Log

Stardate 22.32.1

Somehwere in the  xenothobian galaxy

Memo to all officers grade 5.345.23 and above

Because of cutbacks in the Search for Intelligent Life, this years' salary treatment will necessarily have to include some belt tightening (an old earth expression for you ain't gonna get swat trooper).  Be that as it may, we have begun the clustering processs, whereby we will cluster all crew members, below my grade of course, into the following categories:

• Exceeds and excels

• Meets

• Jettison through the garbage airlock at the next available moment

 

The home office has determined that only 2% of the crew can excel, 48% can meet, and of course, you do the math, the rest are to head for the airlock.

To help you in your decision making consider the following:

Our flux capacitor orbital gyroscopic compensator has been out for 3.24 earth days.   We have been drifting aimlessly in space, unable to navigate the ship.  All matter as well as anti-matter deflector shields are armed as we have been bombarded by meteor storms for the past two days.  The crew is growing restless, since the  engineering staff (that's your team Kwahili) is unable to effect necessary repairs.  You are hereby required to assemble on G deck, room 43.56 at 1143 hours.   Donuts and coffee will be served.

That is all,

The Exalted Leader