Data: "Inquiry. Why do you look like Stan Laurel?"
Movie Caption Contest #226: Talking Points
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Data: "Inquiry. Why do you look like Stan Laurel?"
Riker: I know you're having a lot fun with your new emotion chip but, you've gotta stop getting you're jollies from crew reactions to you going around the ship without pants and working consoles with your penis... from three and a half feet away.
Data: "Wabbit Season!"
Riker: "Duck Season!"
Data: "Wabbit Season!"
Riker: "Duck Season!"
Data: "Duck Season!"
Riker: "Wabbit...er...rabbit Season!"
<brief pause>
Riker (to self): "The little sh*#...I fell for it again."
Bring my music collection. I have found the perfect place to display my Engelbert Humperdinck cassettes.
Play "Spanish Eyes Killing Me Softly, Joachim."
But -
Do not task me on this.
Khan: "...especially since I'm going to the trouble of doing one of those 'bouncing ball over the lyrics' things."
Joachim: Kirk just hailed us and called you a ween...
Khan: Don't say the weenie word! No! No! No!
- then Smokey wrecked his sedan and the Bandit got away Scot free!
Sir, the tactical situation -
Scot free, Joachim!
Hawk: In this situation, a Klingon would welcome battle with a shout of success - Q'Plahs-a-mundo! Aaaaay!
Picard: And then he would rust his diaper!
Worf: I will -
Picard: Yes, you will kill us where we stand if we were any other men. Boring!
Data, are you trying to pick my pocket? We don't carry money in the 24th century.
No sir. I was looking for a Henway, sir.
What's a Henway?
The Ambassador from Lilliputia IV, sir.
I...don't believe you.
<Data walks off, whistling nonchalantly>
[muffled sound of Picard struggling]
Riker: Data! What the hell are you doing to the Captain?!
Data: He asked for a tea bag.
Riker: I think he meant an Earl Grey one for his cup.
Data: Oh.
I run my ship with the same strict philosophy I approach life, Joachim. Business in the front, party in the back.
Picard: Mister Worf, if you were a Mullett you would be fanny in the front, Little Lord Fauntleroy in the back.
Worf: I hate this billet.
Hawk: "Well then, maybe you should just hop back onto the Defiant and--awww, too soon?"
Picard: Mister Worf, if you were a Mullett you would be fanny in the front, Little Lord Fauntleroy in the back.
Worf: I hate this billet.
Picard: "Well played, Mister Hawk! Damn shame about what happens to you on the next page..."
Hawk: "Wait, what?"
Sir, will you be attending my performance tonight?
What is it this time, Data?
A one man show directed by Doctor Crusher and starring me. The Vagina Monologues.
I - will not see that.
At first I had thought it referenced an ancient Earth stage performance called "The Vagina Dialogues."
Not that one?
No sir. It was not.
Pity. I'd see that one.
Data: Commander Riker, I am afraid we have run out of doughnuts.
He referred to your headband as "a Russian inwention."
Chekov.
Ah yes. Chekov.
Worf: Captain, as soon as you give the order, we will get started sabotaging the main deflector.
Hawk: Captain? Are you all right?
Worf: I have seen this before. He is...preparing himself.
Picard: Oh, Three little maids from school are we....
You see sir: with careful application, it is more efficient to relieve your body fluids right into a bottle from the bridge.
It is something my mother has always admonished.
Sir - you were conceived in a laboratory.
That does not excuse soiled underpants, Joachim.
Sir, this one has another decade of elasticity left.
That is what she said.
But sir -
That - is what she said, Joachim.
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