"I can't finish this,” Hoshi Sato said, staring at the ruined remains of a hot fudge sundae.
"Ugh. I can't eat any more, either,” Tripp Tucker said, “Why'd you have to have that for your birthday?"
"C'mon, it was my birthday! Can't I be Queen for at least one day?" she asked, smiling.
"Maybe we can give it to Porthos,” Travis Mayweather suggested.
"That would be unwise,” T'Pol said, checking her PADD, “Chocolate is evidently toxic to canines."
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed came over, “I see the party is winding down. Sorry I couldn't get off shift earlier."
"That's all right. But there's still a ton of ice cream. Do you want some?" Hoshi asked.
"No, thank you,” he said.
"C'mon!" she wheedled. Reed reddened slightly, “You don't need to lose any weight,” she said.
"Hmm. All right. Just a very small amount,” he said, taking a little vanilla.
"C'mon, if you're in, you're in all the way,” Tripp said, bringing over the dish of hot fudge sauce.
"Oh, my,” said Reed, “All right. But only a little and I mean only a little,” He tasted it tentatively, “Oh, that is rather delightful,” He took more.
The cramping started later. It got so bad that Malcolm went to Sick Bay.
"Ah, what seems to be the trouble?" Dr. Phlox asked when he arrived.
"This damned condition I've got,” Malcolm said, “The inoculation you gave me is wearing off."
"Well, you're not supposed to test out its efficacy by bending things so far that they break,” Phlox fussed and got a new shot ready.
"I don't, I don't love these shots,” Malcolm admitted.
"This will not hurt, Lieutenant. Just a small. Ah, there."
Malcolm winced slightly, but it was the cramping that hurt more.
"Ah, and an analgesic for the pain. And no more dairy products for at least twenty-four hours,” Phlox scolded.
"Yes, I suppose you're right,” Malcolm allowed, “I suppose I succumbed to a spot of peer pressure."
"Really, Lieutenant, you're well aware that you've got lactose intolerance. Say no politely to dairy products and you'll see a lot less of me."