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Caption Contest: Vulcan Forgery

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ARCHER:"No deal.

I don't negotiate with anyone from the Bobby Goldsboro Fan Club. Now get off my ship!"


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KOSS:"Smell mine...and I will smell yours."

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T'POL:"Over there in the rear...that is our objective. The Smut Depot."
 
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KOSS:"Your Commander Tucker taught me a most interesting human custom.

Pull my finger."
 
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ARCHER:"What the...?!

OH. Right.

I forgot what Trip told me.

This...this is ROCKY HORROR costume night in the mess hall...isn't it?"
 
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T'POL:"My clit tickler to your clit tickler..."

KOSS:"My ass digger...to yours."
 
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Much to his dismay, Captain Archer found the judging of his gazelle speech performance on the holo-vid show Vulcan Idol to be rather harsh...

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Koss: "I don't think we're doing it correctly. Commander Tucker only used his middle finger when he saw me; and when he made the gesture, the orientation of the finger was straight up..."

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Subcommander T'Pol: "And here is Earth's one and only contribution to Vulcan society. When an observation ship visited Earth in the late 1980ies; it connected to an old style BBS and downloaded it; and Vulcan's have been playing it, and refining the graphics engine ever since."

Captain Archer: "And what was this program called?"

Subcommander T'Pol: "Sim City."
 
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No, you can't have the tv remote back. Three hours of ship schematics is quite enough.

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Now, pull my other finger...

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For a nonaggressive race, you Vulcans play a mean game of Risk.
 
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Be honest, gentlemen. You've never even seen the Superbowl. For one thing, I wasn't referring to a haircut.
 
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The Vulcan version of thumb wars could get very complicated.

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Archer: What do you mean my Vulcan porn is against interplanetary laws, it's the only thing that keeps me going through the night.

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Archer: This is nice and all but I think i prefer my quarters the way they are.
 
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T'POL:"To answer your question...THIS far."

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SOVAL:"When do we get the free nachos, Captain Archer?

You promised us nachos."
 
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ARCHER:"What good is all of this?!

There's no room for the outdoor Olympic-size pool. Screw it. I'll hire a professional architect!"
 
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T'Pol: Unfortunately, the directions you gave us were wrong. Ensign Mayweather is pulling over at the next gas station.
Archer: Damn this mapquest.
 
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Soval: I'm sorry, Captain Archer, but as representatives of the Vulcan High Command, we've made our decision. This party officially blows.
 
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T'Pol: I swear, I'm really into it.
Koss, grandfather of Vreenak: Wait a minute, this hand... It's a FAAAAAAAAAAAKE


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T'Pol: I told you I wouldn't walk into those spiky green lines if I were you...
 
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T'POL:"I understand from our Commander Tucker that...on Earth...a gesture like this was once a prelude to a most intense and disturbing evening of carnal pleasure topped off with something called a 'Rusty Trombone.' "

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ARCHER:"Nice.

But...

Where is the space for my storage shed full of porn?"
 
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ARCHER:"Well...if we're gonna do this and enter you in the talent show we're gonna need a fourth Vulcan.

Whether you fellows like it or not, someone has to be Ringo."
 
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