Picard: Due to the severe shortage of dilithium, I will send you all down to the Planet of Fascist Folk Song Butcherers - all except my right hand man.
Riker: Well he's obviously talking about me, his Number One.
Data: Technically you are his left hand man, Commander, I am clearly sitting on the Captain's right.
Crusher: Well I know he isn't sexist enough to mean the phrase literally, so it must be a woman, me.
Troi: But since you're only needed in medical emergencies, the more critical daily function of ambiguity-peddling falls to Ship's Counselor. That's me.
Worf: Wait - I am the ONLY man sitting to the Captain's right! Plus I have to be around for the Dominion war, so....
LaForge: I think he means he needs the right HAND man - you know a guy good with his hands. Hello, Chief Engineer!
Picard: <
tapping finger on table> I was actually referring to Monsieur LeSchnoque, whose eyes I have drawn on my knuckle and whose mouth is my thumb.
Monsieur LeSchnoque: More whining is no no, but more wine is oui oui!
Picard: Say goodbye, Monsieur LeSchnoque.
Monsieur LeSchnoque: Fais bon voyage, idiotes!