Seven Words in TNG

lad."

Data interrupted, "Intriguing. Mr. Scott, what

 

dialect are you speaking, exactly?"

"Lassie, I

 

whiskey. I do everything with a side

 

of whiskey...that's how I got me

 

mechanical liver. But if I had your

 

liver I'd probably be able to drink

 

bloody rubbin' alcohol...an' I would, too!

 

That stuff is mighty strong and tastes

 

bonny mixed wth buttermilk and grape Jell-O

 

awesomeness and a hint of lilac. Like

 

self-cleaning starships, it has no peer

 

odor of Tellerite breath, no bloody aftertaste

 

from the great tribble hunt. Only the

 

buttermilky, grape, wood grain goodness...ahhh!"

"Wow,

 

that was the most inaccurate description of

 

consuming isopropyl alcohol I've ever heard," said

 

Nurse Ogawa, who came into the room