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ENT Caption Competition #004 Let's Talk About It

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ARCHER: I had a weird dream last night you poisoned me and became Empress of the Terran Empire, whatever the hell that is. So I guess I'm uninviting you to dine with me in the Captain's Mess tonight.
 
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T'POL: Are you eating the last piece of pecan pie? Commander Tucker was looking forward to inhaling that at the end of his shift.
 
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REED: Old sci-fi movies always get it wrong, don't they? When crewmen are ejected into space they immediately explode in the vacuum in freeze-dried exsanguination. . Actually a man can survive two minutes before cardiac arrest occurs. Long enough to get a transporter lock on him.
 
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REED: Rumour has it that Dr Phlox makes tribble bikinis in his spare time. And gives them to members of the crew he fancies. Did any of you receive one?
 
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REED: You can tell Chef's in the sickbay. I've had better lasagne after the inertial dampers failed on the Hood at warp three.
 
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Trip: Testing testing, is this thing on?
Reed: -sigh-
Sato: It wasn't funny 500 times ago, it's really not funny now.
Mayweather: I'm just jazzed about being on the show, man.


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Archer: I need to tell a joke in Andorian to impress the Ambassador. Can you help me?
Sato: I'm really busy, captain. Fine. We'll need a fork and a vegetable. Let me go find Trip.


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T'Pol: And the Vulcan Meditation Master inquires of the family, "What is this bizarre vignette called?" to which they reply "The Aristocrats." You are not exhibiting signs that it was humorous, Doctor. Did you not find it funny?"

Phlox: chews silently



Archer: Now, I get it! So the fork was like a microphone. That's a good one, Trip.
Vulcan Spy: Dinner was 2 hours ago, Captain.
 
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Archer: "How does that old saying go again? 'Beware' something..."
Tucker: "'Beware of Vulcans bearing gifts.'"
Archer: "Yeah, that's it."
T'Pol: "Humans. Draw their name just once in the Secret Santa exchange and you never hear the end of it. What's so bad about a giant IDIC wall hanging, anyway?"
 
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Archer: Look, I need the translation completed, a transcript and contact Admiral Forrest through the subspace interference.
Hoshi: Nobody puts baby in a corner.
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Monk: My pet sehlot enjoys the coolness of this room, strange she usually here.
Archer (rubbing tummy): Yep that was some good eating.
 
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Archer: Well, Trip, it seems that Mudd's Mail-Order Brides, LLC screwed up your order. Instead of a shapely Orion slave girl you got a rather mono-toned sounding Vulcan.
 
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ARCHER: This is it, Trip. Your final moments as a single man.
TRIP: What????
ARCHER: Daniels said in the future you either marry T'Pol or die a stupid death. I was hoping this was the former.
 
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