Shatner Rules

creature, performed the ceremony and the Green Slave Girl from Orion was the ring bearer.
    These three actors have been engaged in a long-running plural marriage, tied together in blessed bonds of acrimony. Toward me. The wedding party featured a triumvirate of people who hate me. All sharing George’s special day.

    FUN FACTNER: If the Sulu from the animated Star Trek cartoon had gotten married, he would never have invited Chekov to his wedding because Chekov wasn’t even in the cartoon! (Seriously, George! Walter and not me?! Come on!)
    I had questions for these three. And like most people who have questions, I have a national television show on which to ask them.
    I asked George to be a guest on my program
Raw Nerve
, which is about to return for its third season on the Biography Channel. In fact, all the episodes are available on iTunes for $1.99 each. Why don’t we take a break in our narrative so that you, dear reader, can go and catch up on this edgy and offbeat celebrity interview series? Go ahead. I’ll wait here.

    FUN FACTNER:
The
Baltimore Sun
said that
Raw Nerve
was “the most intriguing conversation you will find on the tube.” That’s a not a fact really . . . just my shiny ego talking again. But really, you should check out
Raw Nerve
.
    George would have been terrific on
Raw Nerve
, but he did not seem to think so. He thought he was going to be sandbagged or something, and refused to appear on my show and talk it out. Since he is a regular on
The
Howard Stern Show
, I even sweetened the deal by saying we could conduct the interview in the Stern studio—presumably while surrounded by lesbians and little people in bondage gear. Nothing.
    So I did the next best thing and asked Walter onto the show. And I promised we would both have the same exact number of close-ups throughout the interview. He agreed, and we sat down.
RULE: Keep Your Friends Close, and Your Enemies across from You on Your Talk Show
    I got right to the subject of the wedding. I asked him, “Do you know George that well?”
    “No,” he replied.
    No?
    Ideally your best man is your most trusted companion in the whole world. He is the man who holds the rings, ushers the guests, and makes the toast. The best man should be the best friend!
    I continued, incredulous. “You were his best man. How did that work?”
    He looked at me, and paused. I then asked one of the toughest questions I have ever asked on
Raw Nerve
.
    “Walter . . . what the fuck?”

    FUN FACTNER: “Walter . . . what the fuck?” is William Shatner’s “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”
    He said, “Yeah, you’re right. ‘What the fuck?’ I think he used me.”
    Walter was used. George added “special guests” to his wedding party, not “friends.” It was a branding opportunity. And, like usual, I got branded CLOSE-UP STEALER right in the middle of my forehead.
RULE: Love Means Always Having to Say You’re Sorry . . . to Your
Star Trek
Cast Mates
    Let me make it clear: George, Walter, Nichelle, Bruce Mars (who played Kirk’s nemesis Finnegan in the classic episode “Shore Leave”), I don’t know what I did. I apologize. (And honestly, I don’t know if Bruce Mars had any hard feelings. Just covering my bases.)
    The fact of the matter is, we’re all going to die soon. Honestly. We’re all really old people. Don’t you want to go out with having less enmity than before? This feud is the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.
    I still have hope that we can all be friends, and put everything behind us. I would have loved to have gone to your wedding, George. I had an inscribed copy of my memoir
Up Till Now
ready to give you as a gift. (I took the liberty of picking that gift out myself. For some reason it wasn’t on your registry.)
    Don’t despair, though; you can still buy a signed copy at WilliamShatner.com. You appear on pages 121 and 148 of the hardcover. I say nice things.

CHAPTER 7
RULE: Get the Damn Line Right!
    “B eam me up, Scotty.”
    It is one of the most famous catchphrases in popular culture. Perhaps you’ve seen it on a bumper sticker, along with the humorous addendum, “. . . There’s no intelligent life down here.” That’s a rather haughty commentary on the intelligence of others from someone who likes to litter his/her car with bumper stickers.
    (NOTE: This is not to be confused with a more “Rapture-ready” bumper sticker I’ve seen, which reads “Beam me up, Lord!” Ironically, if the Rapture does