TASHA: I found him! It's the set designer!
DATA: This is the man who keeps putting us in generic jungle-looking sets where the ground is completely flat with too much dry ice.
PICARD: Mr Data, fire.
BEVERLY: It's finished, I've put the finishing touches on our new meth superlab.
PICARD: Remember, this is going to be a no rough stuff type deal.
RIKER: Geordi, what do you get when you have a ship full of families including teenagers and massive square footage of crawl space?
GEORDI: A lot of Jeffries Tube sex, apparently. Should we be stopping this?
RIKER: We tried, at first. Now we don't bother. Carry on, Wes.
EVIL KIRK: I'm glad to see you shaved your beard. It made you look sinister.
EVIL SPOCK: Yes, it did. But I kind of miss it. I used to be able to stroke it, like this, as if I was in deep contemplation.
EVIL KIRK: Anyway, I want to run something by you. These people from the other universe have got me thinking. We should lay down our arms immediately and make peace with the Klingons and Cardassians.
EVIL SPOCK: Good idea!
SIDDIG: Genetically engineered? Why, writers, why?!