Seven Words in TNG

, though he worked out, begin to

 

lose feeling in his ass. "Not Acceptable!",

 

he lamented. "Data - analysis!" "Nice tone, Sir,"

 

Data replied.

"Bring the shuttle thief to

 

my ready room," Picard fumed, buttocks sore.

 

Picard tried to relax, but even his

 

ukulele looked stressed out. Mindful of

 

the tender situation, Troi brought the Captain

 

a beaded seat cushion. "Thank you, Counselor

 

, how about a bottle of cologne, too?"

 

"How would that soothe your bum, Captain?"

 

"Applied liberally, it's the Alpha Quadrant balm,"

 

he said. "Will you do the honors?"

 

Security arrived, with the thief in chains.

 

"Why the anachronisms?" queried Picard, his bum

 

still feeling a bit out of sync;

 

sigh with relief as the beam had

 

dislodged that chewing gum stuck in his

 

hind parts. Picard began reciting from Hamlet,

 

"Alas, poor Wrigley's Doublemint Gum, I knew