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TNG Caption This! 345: Character Studies

LeadHead

Director of Comedy
Premium Member
Hello everyone, sorry I didn't get this up before the end of the weekend, I was busy watching the Denver Broncos not attend the Super Bowl.


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First up to the plate, we have the "Useful Abilities" Award, going to:

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door chimes
Troi: "Don't answer it."
Riker: "Why not?"
Troi: "It's the Captain, he's in one of his 'carouse with the junior officers' moods."
Data: "How...?"
Troi: "Hello... Empath!"
Worf mumbling: "Why can't you be that useful on the bridge?"

Next, we have the "Better than A Briefing with Neelix" Award, going to:

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Troi: ``And welcome back, it's 0815, looking to be the start of a fine alpha shift. The Potentate of New Hoboken has issued a statement thanking the Enterprise for racing to deliver that vaccine to her plague-stricken colony. According to the Medical Division, ambu-jitsu injuries are down eight percent in the past there months. And this half-hour we'll have a special report on how to cope when you learn a co-worker has a holodeck version of you on file, and later we'll make a chocolate plomeek recipe that's been sweeping Vulcan fusion restaurants all across the Beta quadrant. All that and more coming up, but first, the space weather. Geordi?''

Next, we have the "Sorting out the Senior Staff" Award, going to:

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PICARD: Okay, we're in the middle of a super nova. Maybe Conn isn't the right spot for you, Worf.

Next, we have the "Ripoff" Award, going to:

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Riker: "So, tell me again, Mr. Data, how much did you pay for these resort tickets?"

Next, we have the "Literally not meaning Literally anymore" Award, going to:

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LaForge: "Uh, Data, I don't this is what the captain meant when he gave us standing orders."

Our Photoshop Award, goes to:

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YAR: That's no moon!
WORF: THE BOY'S ANT FARM!


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Captain's Log: My mother always told me my future was so bright, I'd have to wear shades. After staring at this temporal anomaly, I am being to believe she meant that literally.


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Geordi: I refuse to sit until we get less silly chairs.


Congrats to our winners and many thanks to all of our participants!

And now, a new contest!

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Enjoy!
 
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Picard: Thak you, Counselor. Your insight into Commander Riker from his bedroom techniques will be quite useful.

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Data: I would like a Chicken Caesar salad and a glass of Merlot. (whispering) Bill the guy at the helm for it.

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Riker: I'm starting to doubt Amazons strategy for delivering packages with Drone shuttles.


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Riker: Commander Riker, surrender or you get it!

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Worf: Captain, incoming message from Starfleet Command, they recommend not using your sad face while on the Bridge.
 
TFTW, Leadhead! May your future be figuratively so bright you have to wear shades. :cool:

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Picard: Will, the Counselor just made a humorous observation. As much as we give her crap for spouting out the obvious, at least her job doesn't involve repeating everything I say to relay orders I could easily relay myself. Anyway, take us out of here Number One.

Riker: Aye sir, Geordi, take us out of here.

Troi: I'm sensing resentment from the First Officer, sir.

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Data: Excuse me, Commander Remmick, but your constant tapping away at that device is interrupting my ability to focus on my job.

Remmick: The android seems incapable of functioning on a task while a repetitive noise occurs just a few meters away from him.

Geordi: Hey, you little worm, he asked you to knock it off.

Remmick: What did you just call me?

Geordi: A little worm, Sir.

Remmick: Ah, Lt., if you only knew...

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Picard: Analysis, Gentlemen.

Riker: It blowed up good, sir.

Geordi: It blowed up real good, sir.

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Riker decided he had enough of it and proceeded to stun himself to avoid having to go on this away mission.

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Worf: Sir, are you not going to address the way Commander Riker cursed everyone out and went into your Ready Room with Counselor Troi?

Picard: Actually, I'm not even mad, that's amazing.
 
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DORN: Look, Mr. Stewart. I don't know what they taught you at the Royal Shakespeare Company, but that face doesn't make you look "more French".
 
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Picard: Why did I pick you two to serve next to me knowing you two know each other? Riker likes to second guess his captain. Having an ex-girlfriend reading his mind nearby should inhibit his want-to-be captain antics.

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Picard (off screen): I have a Klingon on tactical, an empathic Betezoid as a counselor, a black person flying the ship and an android for operations. Assigning possitions based on stereotypes is fun.

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Picard: Are you telling me it malfunctioned due to fecal matter being inside it's workings?
Riker: O'Brien did say he was leaving us a parting gift.

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Picard: What am I going to do with you Worf? You can't fly the ship and you suck at operations too.
Worf: I'm a Klingon, I should be on tactical.
Picard: Over the militant Tasha? Sure, if she dies on a mission it's all yours, like that'll happen.
 
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REMMICK: Gentlemen, can you explain your recent entries about a Commander Rem-Dick?
DATA: I think they are enough explicit.

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PICARD: It's remind me when I was on the Stargazer and....
RIKER AND GEORDI: Ah crap!
 
TFTW, LeadHead!

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Second Officer's Personal Log: I have a positronic brain capable of performing sixty trillion calculations per second with double-hash quantum-state error checking. If Commander Riker double-checks my math on his damn calculator one more time, I will bitch slap the punk.


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Captain's Log: Well, it was fun while it lasted, but I guess it's time to knock it off. Lieutenant Worf actually caught me making faces behind his back today.
 
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Picard (off screen): I have a Klingon on tactical, an empathic Betezoid as a counselor, a black person flying the ship and an android for operations. Assigning possitions based on stereotypes is fun.

Remmick: We could put you in the sports model: retractable spoiler and nacelles, colored warp engine, Asian computer geek, Indian with tattoo, rich, white guy into hot rods as your driver, and a hot blonde who thinks she knows how to read a map.

Data: Even I think that's too much on the nose.

Remmick: Too many Top Gear reruns.
 
Bad Thoughts, this is for you:
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WORF: Data, I think the Captain needs to hear "Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty".
 
Purrfect!

Bad Thoughts, this is for you:
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WORF: Data, I think the Captain needs to hear "Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty".
Data, searching through string patches: Soft kitty, warm kitty, what are they feeding you, smelly cat, oh, smelly cat, it's not your fault.
 
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Picard: What do you think, Will? Captain's prerogative?
Riker: Your call, sir. But I don't think the crew finds granny boots as hot as you or I do; even less so on a male officer.
Picard: But I could pull them off?
Riker: Oh, yes sir.


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Remmick: What is our precise speed, Mister Data?
Data: We are traveling at warp factor 9.342699735294875, sir.
Remmick: And what is that in light speed units?
Data: Multiplied by light speed's 299,792,458 m/s, we get 2,800,870,918 meters per second, sir.
Remmick: I see.
Data: Now hold your calculator upside down, sir.
Remmick: Huh. "Big Ol Boobs." You are good.
Data: It's what I do, sir.


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Picard: So why don't we just replace the Heisenberg compensators?
Geordi: Sure, you can get the transporters for a song but the Heisenberg compensators are like a hundred bars of gold pressed latinum each.
Riker: That's how they get you, sir.


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Worf: Sir, when I asked you do be my cha'DIch, what did you think I was asking you to be?
Picard: I don't know, some kind of parsnip or turnip?
Worf: No.
Picard: Well an edible tuber, then?
 
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Data - "Back off man...I'm a scientist."

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Troi - "Will, is it safe to adjust that while it is aimed at yourself?"

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Picard - "Awww, did little Worfy have a Boo-Boo?"
 
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DATA: Facinating, the asteroid would have instantly eradicated all sentient life-forms without damaging anything else on the planet suface. It would have remained a M-Class planet.
PICARD: *Sigh* If Tasha had missed her shot, Vulcan would have became an archaeologist wet-dream.
 
TFTW LH!



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Riker: Sir... you put in a request for a new first officer before the verdict had even come in?

Picard: To be honest Will, I never even considered the possibility you didn't kill Dr. Apgar after bonking his wife.


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Data: I do not know why you consider me a potential securty risk. It is not like I have multiple evil siblings, nor that my creator can remote control me at a distance of light years to take over the ship. And I definitely do not emit a easily detectable signal that renders the ship useless for stealth missions.


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Picard: And this is what happens when Starfleet subcontract to the cheapest bidder.


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Riva Gibbs: Ah-ah-ah-ah Staying Alive, Staying Alive...

Riker: You won't be in a second if you don't shut up.


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Worf: Did Commander Riker turn down another promotion?
 
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Deanna: "Will, there should be a button marked "power' in the upper left corner of the ..."

Riker: "Yes I know, stop push me."

Worf: "Are we having female problems Commander?"

:)
 
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PICARD: Now she calls ME imzadi. Don't fuck with me Will.

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WESLEY (Holding the pad): Hey Data, I figured out how to hack into your motor control system! I'll show you how to dance!

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GEORDI: So then Miles twitched and told me, I control the transporters, I can do this to anyone I want.
PICARD: I think it's time we transferred the chief to a more interesting assignment for his own mental health.

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RIKER: Chief, beam us down to the planet where they just vaporized three defenseless people unarmed. I think we can safely assume this time they're only interested in peace.

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PICARD: A promotion? Your job is so easy a teenager could do it.
WORF: Want to bet?
PICARD: I'll prove it to you.
 
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