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Commander's log, Stardate 20052013.2:

The Mothership was a mess. Finally managing to flag down Commander Wiseau, who happened to be passing, we had made our escape from the uninhabited planetoid where we'd been left by our hyper-intelligent simian Judas. When we made it home, we found our ship being ransacked by a horde of rampaging monkeys that our nemesis had created to back him up. When I confronted the original monkey, I was rather confused when he began talking.

"Greetings, Commander. Welcome home - my home. At last, I shall have my revenge," the monkey said in what sounded much like Commander Walter's voice. "Yes, it is I. Your robotic manservant took some shortcuts to creating this super-ape. He used my brain as a template for the clone and now I have a monkey army."

"I have a Gort," I replied as Gort powered up his disintegrator beam.

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Commander's log, Stardate 16052013.2:

We loaded our super-intelligent ape friend into a shuttle, offering him 20 bananas if he'd fly us to an uninhabited planet nearby. When we arrived, we suggested he bury some "private items" for us - namely some pirated DVDs we no longer needed. The plan was, once he was involved in the task, we'd kosh him on the head and fly off home, leaving us back at a crew of two.

It seemed like a foolproof plan. As such, I'm still not sure why I'm now recording this from the surface of said planet while I watch the ape fly off in our shuttle... with me wearing nothing but my underwear...

"He is super-intelligent..."

Shut up, Gort.

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Commander's log, Stardate 13052013.2:

"Ook," it said. 

We sat opposite the hyper-intelligent ape that had been our saviour. Trapped by the cybernetically enhanced baby that Gort had... acquired... our only hope had been to use the Mothership's cloning facilities to create our new colleague. The ape had produced and flung natural projectiles to subdue the baby and return it to Earth.

Smiling politely, I now leaned over to Gort and muttered through my teeth: "What do we do with the monkey now?"

"Ssshhh," Gort whispered mechanically, "don't call him a monkey. Do you want a face full of tactical faeces?"

Pulling back and maintaining my smile, I offered: "Would you like tea?"

"Ook," it answered.