“I’m a doctor, not a bricklayer!”
McCoy scowled as he took a mental inventory of materials that could be used to treat the wounded Horta. None of them seemed entirely sufficient. And what could he use for mortar?
Reluctantly, Kirk reached into his pocket and took out a package of marshmallow peeps. “Try using these to hold her together.”
That seemed a bizarre idea, but McCoy had to admit they’d be sticky enough.
A few hours later, Kirk stood beside the recovering Horta, looking at her sunshine-yellow scar.
McCoy grinned. “This looks like the start of a beautiful relationship.”