The cable installers called sir. They won't be able to get here until sometime after 8 AM tomorrow and the year 3014. They said someone has to be here to meet them, or it will be another three millennia.
Maybe we should stick with satellite, Number One?
If you think so, sir.
That might cut some costs, Captain.
If you need me I'll be under my desk.
I don't know, LaForge. Duranium?
Look, I do not care what element your VISOR senses in Data's colon! Aaaggggh! Aluminum.
Nope. It was molybdenum, Worf.
That word again: molybdenum
I'm going to get a soft pretzel. I'll meet you at Forever 21.
His symptoms, Doctor?
He has reverted to his default "pleasuring technique."
Reverse Cowgirl Polarity.
THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.