"The Trouble With Tribbles" Line-by-Line

KIRK: A fat tribble?

 

MCCOY: No. You get a bunch of hungry little tribbles.

 

KIRK: Well, Bones, all I can suggest is you open up a maternity ward.

 

[Transporter room]

KIRK: All you men going on shore leave to stay in groups. Avoid trouble with the Klingons.

 

SCOTT: I'll tell them before they go, sir.

 

KIRK: Aren't you going on shore leave, Scotty?

 

SCOTT: Why, no, sir.

 

KIRK: I want you to go on shore leave. Make sure that everybody stays out of trouble.

 

SCOTT: But, Captain. Aye, sir.

 

KIRK: Scotty, enjoy yourself.

 

[K7 Bar]

(Business is good. Scott, Chekov and Freeman take the last vacant table. Two security men leave and Jones enters, whistling.)
JONES: Ah, friend. Can I offer you a charming little tribble?

 

SCOTT: Uh, no, thanks.

 

JONES: Oh. Perhaps one of you other gents?
(No reply)
JONES: Ah, friend Klingon. Can I interest you in a harmless tribble?

 

(The tribble screeches.)
KORAX: Get it away from me!

 

JONES: I'm sorry. I can't understand it. I've never seen them act this way before.

 

KORAX: Get out of here with that parasite.

 

JONES: He's only a harmless little ...

 

KORAX: Take it away!

 

JONES: Yes. (turns to the barman) Ah, my good friend. How would you like to enter another little transaction? This time, a tribble for a spot --

 

BARMAN: A tribble.