Sir. Commander Data is emailing again. This one has Spot dressed up like a Starfleet officer on a Klingon ship. It says "Smile wen u eat the cheezburger."
I warned him about those LOLspots.
someone was stealing the ship's supply of Chateau Picard
- but pouring it down the toilet is unconscionable! <Tastes stream
> Ah, the '68.
No sir. That is your reflection.
Maybe it was the faint aroma of the Klingon Splorcht
in Commander Worf's flatus reminding him of the aging patina of Weltschmerz in the eyes of the strippers in that Qo'nos gentlemen's club; or the way the sniveling Ferengi took him back to all those summers gutting space fish at the Altair Aquatic Lifeform Hatchery - but when he looked at Ensign Gina Tonic fresh from the vole massacre, still reeking of entrails, breasts heaving with the exertion of manual slaughter, he saw her as if for the first time - and knew she was at long last, the one who would understand his Rigellian Waxing fetish.
There there, Counselor. You can't help it if you're unable to shrink heads. It's a silly superpower when you think about it. I'm still glad I brought you aboard. But those popinjays at the Starfleet Psychological Board are in for a nasty missive, I tell you.