TNG Caption This #223: Kate Pulaski: A Doctor for One Season

Happy Friday to all of you! Hope you've had a good week. Lets get down to business.





First up to the plate, we have the "Worf and Miles nearly bought the same dress" Award, going to:

Next, we have the "Command Decisions coming back to bite you" Award, going to:

Next, the "So that's how it happened" Award, goes to:

Next, I'd like to say thanks to everyone who posted on this one. In my business I put this one in, instead of another and was concerned it might not get much play. Glad I was wrong!

The "Unintentional Compliment" Award goes to:

Next, the "Not Quite Canon" Award goes to:

The Photoshop award, (also in the future, Cal Berkeley or the San Francisco 49er's would be awesome)

Congrats to all our winners and thanks to all who participated! The character centric contests have some more life in them, so lets spend some time with Doctor Katherine McCo- uhhh... Pulaski. I'm still planning for a fun way to bring em to a close. I'll announce what it'll be in 2 weeks.











Enjoy!

 

Data: Actually Doctor, I do not like being referred to as "it."



Pulaski: Ah, now I can tolerate being in the same room with you.



Pulaski: You're ugly. Want a second opinion?



Pulaski: I cloned you. I hope you don't mind.

Picard: A Mohawk, Doctor?



Pulaski: He's dead, Geordi.

 

Data: Ah, Doctor! Could you please diagnose and treat what every it is that causes Commander Riker's crotch to smell so horribly. Or at least ask him to stop shoving it next to my face.

Pulaski: It has a sense of smell?

Data: Yes. And even with no emotions, the scent is.... unpleasant.

 

Muldaur: *mumbles*

Roddenberry: Cut!

Cue boy: The blood chemistry and brain organ...


Muldaur- Shut up, Kid! *cough* I've been acting since your parents were in diapers

Roddenberry: OH come on, Diana. The season is almost over.

Muldaur: *cough* Where is that Wheaton boy with my drink?

Muldaur: *mumbles* I think my agent said something about LA Law

Roddenberry: And you shouldn't be smoking in here.

Muldaur: *cough* Where is that Wheaton boy with my drink.

 

Data: Actually, doctor -- *ahem*
I'm not a robot! Without emotion! I'm not what you see! I've come to help you with your problems so we can be free. I'm not a hero! I'm not a saviour! Forget what you know! I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control...
Pulaski: *blink*



Pulaski: I found this body in an improvised morgue near the doctor's office. Recognize it?
Picard: My god...that's...Jack Crusher! Deanna, do you know why Beverly would...
Troi: * purposeful silence*
Picard: Well?
Troi: I decline to comment, captain.


Data: Your opinion, doctor?
Pulaski: He's dead.
Miles: *awkward glance* Shouldn't you give him a run-over with a medical tricorder, at least?
Pulaski: Look, he's missing half his chest. The man is dead, OK? Enterprise, beam me back.
Wesley, with a deep sigh: I miss Mom.
LaForge: We all do, kid...

 

Thanks for the win, LeadHead!



Worf (thinking): "Heh! Look at the four of them! Put two Pakleds on the viewscreen and every one of them would be staring at a couple of boobs!"




*Vital signs monitor flatlines.*
Pulaski (sighs): "Sorry, Charlie."




Wesley: "Well...at least we found him."
LaForge: "He must have spent the whole night here!"
Data: "We had better get him back to the ship."
O'Brien: "Look at this place! There is nothing more depressing than a strip joint after closing time with all the house lights on!"
Pulaski: "Brings back memories!"

 

Muldaur: *Humming*
Fish heads, fish heads yummy yummy fish heads

 

PULASKI: Yes Data, they're real

DATA: But not spectacular.



PULAKSI: I'm hopped up on hormones, lets do this!

WORF: Excellent.



PULASKI: I'm gonna be gone all weekend, better give him a little extra. What's the harm?



PICARD: Why is his hand in a bowl of water?

PULASKI: You'll see.

TROI: Huh? ...Oh!



OBRIEN: Remind me never to piss you off.

PULAKSI: He went down like a chump.

 

Data: It's standard ship's protocol to not encourage the captain to sing



Worf: What's that?

Pulaski: Let's call it... "Hypo-goggles". Care to dance sailor?"



Pulaski: Mmmmmm.... Calamari



Troi: I'm feeling....... something........

Pulaski: Yeah, I noticed. Would you mind stopping that?



O'Brien: So what's the proper response here? Do we help him, or clap?

Pulaski: I'm not sure

O'Brien: Well, what about laughing? We could give him a round of that

 

Data: But Doctor Crusher let me tweek her nipple on a regular basis. She said it helped her relax.



Worf: Hehehehehe. Two more beers and she'll say yes to anything.



Pulaski: Hehehehehe. One more shot of dope and he'll say yes to anything.


Picard: I'm not bald Doctor, it's a solar panel for a sex machine.



Everyone: Your turn next Wes.

 

Worf: I'm here for my follow up to the spinal surgery.
Pulaski: CRACK!!!!
Worf: BEEEEP Oh what's that? I think the Captain wants me on the bridge.........

 

Alien: "Doctor, I'm wondering whether it was necessary to pull out all the stops this time."

Pulaski: "It's better to be safe than sorry."

Alien: "For a scratched earlobe?"

 

Worf: "You remind me of an old Klingon proverb."

Pulaski: "What's that?"

Worf: "A physician who treats themself has a fool for a patient."


(with apologies to Sir William Osler)

 

Ensign Smitt: Wow, hi there Doc, how did the surgery go? Will I recover fully?

Pulaski: Well, first the good news. That fishy smell from your genitals isn't going to be a problem anymore...

 

DATA: The replacement model doctor appears to have a significantly deflated chest profile compared to the former one.
PICARD: Starfleet Command insisted on that particular change; said I got too distracted before.



PULASKI: It's not my fault! This replacement arm keeps trying to salute all by itself and I have to hold it down. I knew I shouldn't let that Space Nazi surgeon operate.



PULASKI (thinking): Not even my night cream will eliminate those wrinkles.



PICARD: I thought you meant Riker lost his head and caused the accident, not vice versa.



The TNG crew were witness to the horrible revenge that the House of Bobbit wrought upon the House of Mogh

 

Pulaski: "I've checked your brain with this cranioscope, and the results were negative."

Alien: "You mean there was no tumor?"

Pulaski: "No, there were no brain cells."

 

Alien: "What's that hose?"

Pulaski: "Sorry, Sir, but the sponge bath lady is on vacation today."

 

Pulaski: I better take this before having your offering of blood wine.

Worf: Why? I was told you are a tough bird

Pulaski: Not when it comes to drinking. I get buzzed using those alcoholic-based sanitizer gels.



Ogawa: (OS) What happened, Ensign?

Ensign Ballard: (OS) I slipped off a rock while fishing for trout on the Missouri in my holoprogram.

*alien glares at Pulaski*

Pulaski: Heh...

 

Pulaski had to wipe Ambassador Mutar's memory after Riker and Geordi caught him on their fishing trip.