[spoken, by 356 pound Kirk(ish) conventioneer: ]
Stardate: Billings, Montana--Trek Convention HQ, 04.02.2010
A semi-maudlin Spock decrys his 5 year--nay, 3 decade mission--
To boldly faux where countless others have gone before--
To become one with--
~The Nimoy!~

~
[Sung hopefully, by rail-thin 5'3" Spock wannabe in Full Regalia]
For years I've donned these ears--affixed to skull skin
And staunchly borne the fact they're fake (store-bought)
For spiritually, I'm hybrid Human-Vulcan
And Spock-a-lot!

I've proudly worn too many pair to mention
And gallons of green make-up surely bought
Through thirty-two grand years of these conventions
I've Spocked-a-lot!

Spock-a-lot!
SPOCK-a-lot!
And still they brand me uber-dork!

Spock-a-lot!
SPOCK-a-lot!
'Cause I 'transport' food with Sporks?

Those Scotties, Kirks and Bones--all dime-a-dozen
And Sulus--second class conventioneers
In short there's simply not
A role that outranks Spock
For happy live-long prosperings
it's here
I'll Spock a lot!

Spock-alot!
SPOCK-a-lot!
Sure, I own ten uniforms

Spock-alot!
SPOCK-a-lot!
'Round my homies that's the norm!

I'll share with you my only shameful secret:
My love life's warped--beyond 'final frontiers'
Seems women get cold feet
When I invoke Star Fleet
So for happy 'live-long' prosperings
it's *here*
I
SPOCK-
-A-
-LOT!!

[spoken by huge pseudo-Kirk:]
You *really* gotta get yerself some sorta 'PriceLine' gig, er, 'Leonard'...

~