After just about the worst night he'd had on Enterprise, minus an attack, Captain Archer couldn't believe his ears.

"What do you mean, the pieces are too thick? We got the specs from you people!"

The ceremonial path made from the carved wood. The braids. The lack of clothing, not to mention sleep. The dismissal of Porthos' near-death. Now this.

"Those thicknesses are for a general ceremony in the main hall before all the great houses. If you humans knew from courtesy, you would have checked that in this House, a differing thickness was not only called for, but demanded!"

Archer felt his vision begin to fog.

"Very well. I will start again. But my traditions demand that before attempting a second such apology, I perform a scene from the works of one of Earth's great literary masters. In fact, it was written--by a King."

The council-members nodded.

"That would be most welcomed. We were not aware of such a default tradition among your people."

Archer closed his eyes, and spoke.

"I give you--The Tale Of The Shining Ones."

The council brimmed with anticipation. But the Enterprise crew pulled out. Trip gulped.

"Maybe we coulda gotten by on just four injectors."

T'Pol fought off the shakes.

"Perhaps it is time to act on--certain tensions."

Hoshi shrugged.

"Well, I guess its just their turn to lose their tops."

Back in the chamber, Archer began his tale--by firing up the chainsaw. He grinned and sneered wildly.

"HEEEERREEE'SS JOHHHHNNNY!!!!"