Crush: It's Firp, Captain. Pic: I think that's supposed to say "Fire," Beverly. Crush: According to my readings...Firp is very hot. Pic: Like fire? Crush: It doesn't say. Worf: Hiphuggers and a spit curl. Data: My peripheral visual acuity is superior to that of a Klingon warrior. Lieutenant Yar is wearing a standard gold uniform. Crewman: The Romulans are charging weapons, sirs. Worf: A blue Vulcan ceremonial robe. Data: A standard gold uniform. And a spit curl. Riker: So you're telling me this sector is only now receiving the broadcast of Luke and Laura's wedding? Geordi: That's right, Commander. Riker: And Mister Belvedere? Data: No, sir. Sorry sir. Riker: DAMN YOU PROGENITORS!!! Geordi: So you're telling me I can just whizz in this thing? Crush: That's right, Geordi. Feel free. Geordi: Ahhhhhhh. So where does the whizz go? Crush: I don't know. It's just a wetsuit. Geordi: You know what this evening needs? My Weird Al mix tape. I'll be right back!