
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!
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