DON'T SLAY THE TREKKIEFAN

(Tune: "Don't Pay The Ferryman" by Chris de Burgh)

It was late at night at an Eastercon
Creeping like a fan on the run
The night lights breeding shadows in the lobby.
They were closer now and the chase was on
Looking for a corner to hide
But all the doors were locked and he had nowhere to run to.
And then they strapped him down
And took their long knives out
There were voices from the stair ("Don't do it!")
Voices in the air ("Don't do it!")
Too many fen could pay the score,
Whatever you do--

CHORUS
Don't slay the Trekkiefan!
Don't even bob his ears!
Don't slay the Trekkiefan,
Or the revenge could last a hundred years!

There was Pickersgill, there was Edwards too,
Trufen of the highest fame
And there's that haggard old fan with the bottle
Then the lighting dimmed and the PA died
And quietly the Trekkie said
"If you should kill me now there's no-one else who can fix it."
And as they tried to think
They had another drink
Saying "We can't slay him now. ("Don't do it!")
We can't slay him now. ("Don't do it!")
And soon the verdict was quite clear:
Whatever you do--

CHORUS
Don't slay the techiefan!
Don't even bob his ears!
Don't slay the techiefan,
Or the revenge could last a hundred years!

(repeat chorus to end)