The Worst of the Odd Numbered Films (Already Thought Of as the Worst Anyway) Is Still Worthy of Love – Ask Me How

When they ask him, because they will, because he has been working on it all this time, 

He will tell them, with the straightest of straight faces, that the fifth is the best of the movies. 

Yes, even with Kirk asking God why he wants a starship. 

Even with the rock men and the dodgy science and the “Not in front of the Klingons.” 

He has it all worked out. He can point to the soundtrack – Jerry Goldsmith at his best –  

And the cinematography – that wonderful prologue sequence with the smoking holes in the dessert. 

And has the triumvirate of Kirk, Spock and McCoy ever been better used?
He thinks not. That campfire scene is wonderful. 

“Goodnight, Spock,” has him sniggering every time. 

And what if Scotty wouldn’t have knocked himself out on that pipe, 

Because, yeah, he should have known the ship like the back of his hand?
It’s still a damn good gag. It’s still up there with the finest moments in cinema. 

And, of course, they’ll give him the look; they’ll ask if he’s joking, 

But, then, they’ll know about his Eoghan Quigg obsession. 

No way is that the worst album of all time. 

And they’ll have heard him extol the virtues, none of them dubious, 

Of the Spector version of “Let it Be” and McCartney’s “Frog Chorus”. 

They’ll know that he loves “Cop Rock” and thinks it ought to have gone to a second series. 

They’ll know that he doesn’t think of Zeppo as the least of the Brothers, 

Or Ringo as a barely serviceable drummer. 

They’ll know, they’ll know, they’ll know

Because he will have told them, 

And so the Star Trek V thing won’t come as a surprise, 

Won’t look like he’s Trying Too Hard to be interesting, 

Like Denise told him that time, 

Like Colleen said had ruined her evening. 

It’s just who he is. And if they’re the underdogs, these things he professes to like; if that’s what they are to his friends, to his colleagues, 

Then that’s Fine. 

That’s Fine. 

They’re all deserving of love. 

Aren’t they? 

Isn’t everything, somewhere, maybe very deep down? 

That’s what he’ll be proving when they ask. 

Because they will. 

They have to. 

They will. 

Mike Hickman (@MikeHicWriter) is a writer from York, England. He has written for Off the Rock Productions (stage and audio), including 2018’s “Not So Funny Now” about Groucho Marx and Erin Fleming. He has recently been published in EllipsisZine, Dwelling Literary, Bandit Fiction, Nymphs, Flash Fiction Magazine, Brown Bag, and Safe and Sound Press. His co-written, completed six-part BBC radio sit com remains frustratingly as unproduced as it was the last time he updated this biography. Maybe it would be better off as a novel?

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