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Caption Contest 49: A New Beginning

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REED: Some gentleman with a Scottish accent asked me to check if the captain's dog was in this box.

MAYWEATHER: Wonder what he means?
 
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Trip: You've had quite a few Captain. Maybe I should fly us back to the ship.

Archer, drunkly: HELL NO! *hic* I's not not drunk! I's can flys this shittle justies fine! *burp*

[Archer then presses several buttons. Suddenly the lights go out, the left turn signal turns on, the windshield wipers turn on, and the song "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner begins playing]


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Mayweather: Any luck getting into the Captain's titty mag stash?

Reed: Nope. It's locked up tighter than T'Pol's clenched buttcheeks!
 
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ARCHER: Ahhhh, I was just playin' with you. Forget about scratching the paint.

TRIP: Whew...thanks, sir.

ARCHER: Instead...scratch my ass for me. Thing's bugging me like CRAZY.


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REED: I'm not even going to ASK why a red liquid is seeping from this case.

TRAVIS: Told you they haven't worked out the kinks in this contraption yet.
 
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"I understand beaming Commander Tucker's harmonica into space, but is the lead-lined lockbox absolutely necessary?"
 
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Archer: 'Hyuck, hyuck, hyuck I'm a hillybilly!' Wait'll you meet the rube that they assigned as our chief engineer. He's a total hayseed!

Trip: That's me Cap'n.

Archer: Ah... uh very good Commander. Carry on.

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Travis: The sign says 'Captain's porn' do not open.

Reed: That's ok Ensign, it's a security risk, we need to check it out.

** 30 seconds later **

Reed: Reed to sickbay, medical emergency. Two ill crewmembers are throwing up in the transporter room.
 
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Archer: To be! Or...not to be. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the SLINGS and arrows of outrageous fortune, to take arms against a sea of troubles -- and by opposing, end them?
Reed: ....sir? Mind if I ask what you're doing?
Archer: Setting a precedent, dammit. Henceforth all Enterprise captains shall quote Shakespeare for dramatic effect!
 
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TRIP: Yea, it's called handshake. It's an Earth thing. Every planet has its own weird customs. About a year before we met, I spent six weeks on a moon where the principal form of recreation was juggling geese. My hand to God. Baby geese. Goslings. They were juggled.
 
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TRIP: Now is the part where I fondle your breasts...and you say "OOOOH, My...what a lovely tea party!"

It's human tradition.
 
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