Riker: Your analysis, Mt. LaForge.
LaForge: My VISOR is picking up remnants of combusted cellulose and charred animal flesh, and some sort of fermented liquid. If I didn't know better, sir, I'd say someone camped here last weekend.
Data: Lieutenant Worf, in my attempt to become more human, I have been studying something called practical jokes. Would you care to engage in something called a "Wet Wille" on Mr. LaForge with me?
Worf: I would be honored, sir.
Troi: I said my boobs have started to firm up, why are you scanning my forehead?
Stardate 42671.4 - Commander Riker experiences his first goatse.