My mistake, Captain. This ship feels like…a house…with all the children gone…
Mr. Scott, what happened? A man is dead. I want answers Mister!!
clicks comm
Ensign Monroe, go to Engineering and bring the popcorn to the Bridge.
You mean he doesn’t place an artificial hair surrogate on his scalp to hide his baldness? How curious.
What are you trying to say, Doctor? Remember, you may have seen me naked but there is Doctor / Patient confidentiality.
Well, I might be just another good old country doctor, but I think I know a thing or two more about medicine than you, no matter how old you are.
There’s your damned logic again, about to kill us all. :eek:
Ever see a man drown in boiling butter, Jim? It’s not pretty.
Well the popcorn maker is grafter directly to the matter - anitmatter reaction chamber. Reaching into it isn’t really a “good” idea.
It appears that having an android on board is nothing but cause for difficulty.
These Paxans appear to have a lack in the way they explain their judgments of worthy species.
Mr. Scott. Those comm badges seem very innovate and efficient. I weary of watching our captain whiping out his communicator from his back pocket like a cell phone.
Can you craft us some comm badges?
He’s dead, Jim!
It’s a shame that even the best medical science can’t cure this affliction.
If only he had something easy to fix, like the common cold or leukemia!
Give it up, Jim. Everyone knows.
impassioned We venture into space. We test ourselves. His life is a testament to our courage and bravery. He must not have died in vain!
clicks comm
Ensign Monroe? Ensign Monroe? What is going on in Engineering? And where is the popcorn?!?
You’ve never faced death, Jim. It’s the Kobyahshi Maru all over again.
I’d take ten of him over any Vulcan.
And I’m sure you think your highfalutin logic would be better.
I do ask myself, however, as to why this Picard never returned to his holoprogram. It is quite a coincidence that he was about to embark on a detective story, while in his actual work, a mystery was to be solved. I have yet to arrive at a logical explanation for it.
Oh! What have I done? Ordering men to their death. I’m going to Engineering! Whoosh
Give it up, Jim. Everyone knows.
Whoosh It’s these pants, isn’t it? Maybe the Vulcan babe is right. I need looser clothes. Whoosh
Yes.
I am right.
Ah, 1.13 minutes left and Counselor Troi finally said something useful.
No big deal. That’s why we hire temps.
Spock! He’s dead! :eek:
I can fix it!
I’ll meet you in Engineering by the matter/anti-matter intermix chamber.
That’s always the best place for dramatic death scenes.
whoosh
Kirk returns, ripped shirt and covered in melted butter. He is glistening. Lt. Marlena Moreau is there at the door and asks if he is alright
I’m fine. Now kiss me.
Well, you know what happens next.