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"The Trouble With Tribbles" Line-by-Line

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[Storage compartments]
KIRK: Is that door secure?

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KIRK: Here. Let me try it.
(But he can't open it either, so he tried one of the overhead doors instead. That does open, and a whole load of tribbles fall out, burying the gallant Captain up to his shoulders. Spock examines one.)
 
BARIS: Gorged? On my grain? Kirk, I am going to hold you responsible. There must be thousands of them.
 
SPOCK: One million seven hundred seventy one thousand five hundred sixty one. That's assuming one tribble, multiplying with an average litter of ten, producing a new generation every twelve hours over a period of three days.
 
SPOCK: And allowing for the amount of grain consumed and the volume of the storage compartment.
 
BARIS: Kirk, you should have known. You are responsible for turning the development project into a total disaster.
 
BARIS: And I'm through being intimidated, Kirk! You have insulted me, you have ignored me, you've walked all over me. You have abused your authority, and you've rejected my requests. And this, this is the result! I'm going to hold you responsible!
 
MCCOY: Jim, I think I've got it. All we have to do is quit feeding them. We quit feeding them, they stop breeding.
 
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