TNG Caption This! 332: Moving Mountains

Enterprise Ergonomics 101 -

Stand Tall, Arms Straight
Will Riker, Looking Great!

Sit on the console, staring hard,
Now you've done it, you've upset Picard!

A hand on the console, a hand on the hip,
Sorry Geordi, you'll never get another pip!







Worf just couldn't quite get the Stanley Roper camera mug right.



Worf: I see you must have finally shaved.

 

Yar: I need Geordi's password

Data: (OS) Try "Leah"

 

Yar: But sir, if we take that route we'll warp into the planet.
Picard: What about....
Yar: Nope. Magnitude ten ion storm. We'll be ripped apart.
Picard: This one?
Yar: Sir, that's the lavatory occupied button.
Picard: Make it so, Lieutenant.
Yar: Yes sir. Shall I activate the "fasten seatbelts" sign as well?
Picard: Engage.
Yar: Sigh. Engaging, sir. <toilets flush>

 

GOLDIE: Come on. It's for the kids.

WORF: I am not a jolly old elf!



PICARD: Worst party ever, Number One. Doesn't Geordi know any girls?



PICARD: And that Wesley, is how you run a level three diagnostic.

YAR: I'm Tasha, sir. Wesley's a teenaged boy.

PICARD: Ah, yes. Quite right. Carry on, Wesley.

YAR: *sigh*

 

Thanks for the win!



Picard: Tell them to kiss my French ass!
Riker: Slide a little to the left sir, and it'll be quite literal.



Picard: Look at my minions Number one, look how they bask upon me with adoration.
Riker: They just know crew evaluations are going to be in tomorrow, sir.



Tasha: Here's a manifest of Wesley's personal files.
Picard: Angry Birds? World of Warcraft? Call of Duty? These are his experiments?!



Data: (dictating aloud) Second Officer's Log: The Enterprise crashed into thirty nine different objects this watch alone. I suspect Lieutenant Worf's claims of accidental rammings to be fabricated as he was screaming "Today is a Good Day to die, prepare for ramming speed." Lieutenant LaForge's accidental collisions are less severe but more frequent, leading me to question if a visually impaired officer should be piloting the ship. Statistics suggest a child would be better than these two. I will recommend immediate replacement to the Captain.



Officer: Where am I going to get the optical cable?

Worf: (rip) Anywhere. I'm a tactical officer, not an engineer.

 

Riker: When I heard it was about "moving mountains," I thought there would be at least ONE image of Deanna's breasts...

Picard: I'm disappointed, too, Number One.

 

Frakes: "You keep sliding to your right. Are you trying to upstage me, Patrick?"
Stewart: "'Trying'? No, Jonathan, not 'trying.'"

 

Data: *taps combadge* Data to Riker

Riker: (in the holodeck with a hot lieutenant) "Riker here"

Data: I've recieved word from the Klingon Homeworld. The file has been found. You now may post the senior staff baby pictures in Ten Forward.

 

PICARD: Will, what do I keep saying about hitting on women under your direct chain of command?
RIKER: Yeah, you said women. You didn't say anything about tri-gendered aliens.



PATRICK STEWART: Yes, I have been reading Shakespeare in my quarters, with a lot of HOT LADIES!
JONATHAN FRAKES: He knows we're going to cut this scene, right?
MARINA SIRTIS: Ssh.



PICARD: It's okay Tasha. You can cry when you're in the penalty box.
TASHA: You know I'm not five, right?



MICHAEL DORN: I'm serious. Worf is going to appear in more episodes of Star Trek than any other character!
LEVAR BURTON: Riight. Take a look, in a book. It can take you anywhere... *snrk*



WORF: I found all of this stuck between panels in the Jeffries Tube.
BLONDE: Sorry. It's my people's shedding season.

 

Worf: I "borrowed" these from Mr. Data. He won't be needing them...anymore.



GEORDI: Weird. Someone at Tactical just launched photon torpedoes at the planet.

 

Riker: Sir, can't we wait until the women get back to resume the lap dance protocols?
Picard: We're all waiting, Number One, or should I say, Ferrari.

 

Picard: "Well?"
Riker: "Okay, I stand corrected. 'Flying by the seat of your pants' is not just an expression."

 

Picard: I'm not going to do it, Number one. Not this time!

*leans against the tactical station*

Computer: *beeps* hailing frequencies open with the Betazoid shuttle

Lwaxana: (OS) I knew you would respond! I could hear your naughty thoughts...

Picard: Merde!

Riker: I'll be in the holodeck

 

GEORDI: It's working, Captain. The Flatulencians are responding to your message.

 

Riker: Uh, sir, that is my usual leaning spot.

 

Riker: What's wrong, sir?

Picard: Numbah One...I just can't get it out of my head. What if the Hokey Pokey really IS what it's all about?

 

STEWART: The bloody director keeps yelling cut. Something about "lensflare".

 

Riker: More Lemon Pledge, sir?
Picard: Make it so.