Stardate: 2967.0706 Aboard the Starship Enterprise

The horrific, high-pitched shriek went on for what seemed like an Mutarian year, the sound waves not only shattering every glass and mirror on board the Enterprise, but throwing the ship itself severely off course.

Bones McCoy and Cyrano Jones dropped their respective handfuls of Tribbles and fell to the deck, slamming their hands over their ears in a vain attempt to block out the auditory onslaught. Bones felt as though his brain were being pinged around inside his skull.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggg!" screamed Jones, a sentiment Bones echoed wholeheartedly.

Then the noise stopped as suddenly as it began. "What in the name of Odin's eye was THAT!" Bones demanded, of no one in particular.

Jones was looking around the room, rubbing his temples and surveying the silvery shards covering the floor. "About two hundred years' bad luck, I should say." Never a man to let a sales opportunity slip through his sweaty fingers, Jones stood up, brushed himself off, and resumed pitching McCoy on the Tribble investments. "Now, as I was saying..."

"Are you INSANE, man?" Bones cut him off. "We've just been attacked! This is no time for Tribbles!" He touched his communicator. "Jim... McCoy here. What in heaven's name WAS that."

The familiar, earnest voice of James Tiberius Kirk came over the com. "Bones... it's good to hear your voice. I don't... know what that was. Sensors indicate it was some sort of scanning device, but we haven't located the source. Whatever it was, it packed a punch. We're nearly two days off course from our rendezvous with USS Malfeasance. Bones, all decks report minor injuries only, but you might want to get to sick bay just in case."

"Already on my way," Bones reassured the captain.

Bones swept out of the room at a half-trot, Cyrano Jones waddling after him. "Now, Doctor McCoy... let me just tell you a little more about these delightful little Trib..."

He paused, then stopped in his tracks, literally quaking in his well-worn boots.

Bones looked back at Jones. "What is it, man? Are you ill?"

"Ill...no, not exactly. But I seem to have...misplaced my samples."

"Never mind that. We'll find them later."

"Yes...of course. I'm sure we will find the Tribbles later. Rather easily, I suspect," he said, under his breath. "Say... you don't have to keep any quadrotriticale supplies on board, do you?"

Bones didn't hear this last. The two men continued toward sick bay. "Speaking of dividends, Mr. Jones. I know that companies also pay stock dividends. Are they about the same as cash dividends?"

"A 10% stock dividend," Jones replied:

1) Increases the assets of the company by 10%.
2) Maintains each shareholder's relative portion of ownership.
3) Increases the value of each shareholder's stock by 10%.
4) Maintains the market price of each share.

Dividend information provided by Joe Louderback.

The answer is 2) Maintains each shareholder's relative portion of ownership.

Stock dividends are expressed as percentages because they are simply percentage distributions of shares to existing stockholders. A 10% stock dividend increases the total number of outstanding shares by 10%, and each shareholder gets 10 more shares per 100 previously owned.

The shareholders pay nothing for the new shares, so the company has no additional assets, blowing answer 1. The company's liabilities also remain the same. The total market value of the company should be same before and after the dividend, making #3 and #4 both bad answers. The existing shareholders simply have more shares, but each is worth less than previously. The market price of each share should decline to reflect the increased number of shares, but some investors believe that issuing stock dividends is a good sign and so will bid up the price of the shares. While stock dividends might be good signs of something else, they are actually nothing but shuffling paper.

The doors to sick bay slid open with a familiar whoosh. As Kirk had said, there were only a few redshirts insides, most with minor cuts and abrasions. Bones tended to these quickly as Jones, strangely silent, slumped in a corner.

There was another whoosh as the sick bay doors slipped open again. For a moment, no one entered...and then one of the ships newest hands rolled through the door, screaming at the top of his lungs for someone to "Get it off! It's killing me!"

Bones rushed to the ensign...but it was too late. The young man was dead. Bones rolled the body over... and there it was. One bloated, engorged, pulsating Tribble attached to the Ensign's neck.

"Oh dear," Jones said from the corner. "Not again..."

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