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TNG Caption This! 306: Second Captions

LeadHead

Director of Comedy
Premium Member
Happy Saturday Everyone!


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First up to the plate, we have the "Diplomatic Incident" Award, going to:

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Riker hated when Picard made him apologize for seducing ambassadors' girlfriends.

Next, we have the "Noise Complaint" Award, going to:

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Troi: "Captain, what are you doing?"
Picard: "I'm looking at schematics."
Troi: "Is that really what you are doing?"
Picard: "Here. Look. Schematics, see?"
Troi: "Yes sir. Anyway, the bridge crew request that you turn down the volume when you examine your... schematics. The screaming orgasms are distracting them from their duties."

Next, we have the "Do the Math, people!" Award, going to:

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PICARD: Why do you want to go back to the collective so bad?
THREE OF FIVE: Borg pair up biological mates by adding four!
PICARD: ...Get this man back to the collective immediately!

Next, we have the "Costume Fail" Award, going to:

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Guinan: Still think going as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to this year's Halloween party was a good idea, Captain?

Next, we have the "Can't you jazz it up a bit?" Award, going to:

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Picard: "That's it? "
LaForge: "Well sir I know it doesn't look like much but,..."
Data (interrupting):"It is a two dimensional representation of a four dimensional mathematical construct, sir. What do you want, Fireworks?"


Some great photoshops this time around, and this one made me laugh the most, so it gets the prize!

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Picard: Its my ship and I'll review the visual security logs for whatever reason I see fit!


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Captain's log, Stardate 45345.6. We've been to the far reaches of the galaxy, but this new mall has us totally confused.


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Riker: Alien vessel! I am Commander Ugly-Bag-of-Mostly-Water, this is Captain Darmok-and-Jihlad-at-Tanagara, Counselor One-Moon-Circling, and Lieutenant Prune Juice.
Troi <whispering to Picard>: It was just a dare!
Worf <grumbling>: "Lieutenant Prune Juice?" I would kill him where he stands - if he were any other man.
Alien: Uh, nice to meetya, kthx. <ship pulls away>
Picard: Thank goodness I don't have to stand beside Captain Pectoralis from Planet Latisimus Dorsi IIX.

Many thanks to everyone who participated and congratulations to our winners! Thanks for continuing on the Captain's Log Award, I've been so happy with the results!

And now, we continue forward in our journey through the 7 seasons of TNG, we arrive at "Second Chances" for when one Riker isn't enough.

Another thing, I honestly do not know when I will end this contest and start the next one. Next weekend will be jam packed for me, and no offense to you all, but probably, if I were I would end up losing sleep time and as it stands I'll be lucky to get 5 hours a night. But not to worry, I'll get things moving once I have the chance!

And now, the new contest!

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Enjoy!
 
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Riker's trombone playing was so bad, it often triggered the Red Alert Alarms.

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Riker: How did Deanna get up there?!

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Worf: Okay, you two, go ten paces, turn around, then draw.

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Troi: Beverly, we're supposed to be doing martial arts not Lamaze breathing exercises.

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Riker: Whoops, hope that Tricorder wasn't very valuable!
 
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CRUSHER:I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. So I shake my butt. na na na na na na na na na na na na I don't wanna be a chicken i don't wanna be a duck so I shake my butt. I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. na na na na na na na na na na na na I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. So I shake my butt. I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. na na na na na na na na na na na na
 
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Riker only joined the jazz band to hit on the pianist, to finish his 'alien sex' checklist.

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DATA: Commander Riker, inquiry. Why has Captain Picard stripped off his clothes, and started dancing..."
RIKER: I only gave him one beer. I suppose it's been so long he's lost all his tolerance.

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WILL RIKER: This can't possibly be me, no way I'm that sleazy. If it were me I'd be much more funny and charming!

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TROI: Beverly, you know the movie Karate Kid isn't real karate, right?
BEVERLY: Next time the ship is invaded, CRANE KICK!

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WILL RIKER (Several years ago): Maybe I should ask Deanna to marry me. Nah, now's not the time. I'm going to be the youngest Captain in Starfleet. First command I'm offered, I'm going to take it. Then I'll ask her, then she'll be mine.
 
TFTW, Leadhead, good luck this coming week!

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Deanna: Wow, Will really blows!

Data: "Blows?" Ah, "To produce a sound by expelling a current of air, as in sounding a wind instrument or a whistle."

Deanna: I'm so glad Dr. Soong didn't install the "Urban Dictionary" software patch for your dictionary app.

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Riker: I'll be damned, there really is a ceiling cat!

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Will and Thomas: I can't stay mad at you, you handsome bastard!

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Crusher: You and Will, I mean Thomas? Really? Weren't you seeing the ambassador from Tentaclus V? The one with the *motions with her hands*, and the *motions with her hands*, and the really big *motions with her hands*?

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Thomas: You'll never retrieve the database! You'll die before ya get it!
Will *offscreen*: Hey! What's that you got on your face?
Thomas: Huh?
*Will throws dirt on Thomas's face*
Will *offscreen*: See how that works?
 
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PICARD: Now that you've warmed up, lets hear what you've got.

RIKER" Warmed up? That was our first number!

PICARD: Ah yes..."Jazz".
 
TFTKBLA LeadHead! :klingon::klingon::klingon:

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Data: Freebird!


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Riker: Go to UV scan, Data.
All: Eeew!
Riker: Long time to be alone.
Data: I suggest we ask Commander LaForge how to proceed, sir.


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Thomas: Did Deanna ever tell you about her...special fetish?
Will: Yes. I know everything you know from that time. Did you know about her <whispers in his ear>
Thomas <startled>: No way! That's not even possible, is it?
Will <nods>: We've encountered a few new alien species since you've been gone.


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Beverly: Kwaaay-sawnt! Kwaaaaaay-SAWNT!
Troi: Damned French zombie apocalypse.


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While you're down there get my frisbee!
 
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Crusher:.....He pushed me onto the table, grabbed me by the ankles and....
Troi: Uh I don't think that was a performance evaluation Beverley.
 
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Crusher: Sounds like a flatulent goose

Troi: Yeah, & his trombone playing isn't very good either

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Riker: Jesus, On Bluray, Deanna's makeup looks like a French prostitute's

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Will: Count yourself luck, Pal. I've exterminated clones of me almost as developed as you.

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Troi: NO! God dammit! You're not invisible yet! Give it up, moron!

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Tom decided to pay one last visit to the masturbation cave
 
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CRUSHER:I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. So I shake my butt. na na na na na na na na na na na na I don't wanna be a chicken i don't wanna be a duck so I shake my butt. I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. na na na na na na na na na na na na I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. So I shake my butt. I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. na na na na na na na na na na na na
:rommie:

Troi: You dance like a multi-legged creature on a hotplate.
 
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Double bass player: Erm commander, looks like the front is falling off...

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Captain's log supplemental: The hunt continues for a swarm of spiders which turns my crew into a bunch of sissies...

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Riker: There's something even worse than an arrogant upshot jerk; my transporter duplicate.

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Beverly: -and then you get on top of him, hands upon his shoulders and you be the dominant one.
Troi: Wow, I never knew you were so passionate about making love!
Beverly: It's all I can think about in my spare time...
Troi: The captain is still giving you the cold shoulder?
Beverly: He hasn't a clue what he's missing.

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Thomas Riker: Argh! Snakes in a crate!
 

Riker: "What is it, Data?"

Data: "I believe its an attempt by intelligent amphimbians to breach the hull, based on the amount of water coming through the deck."

Worf: "We need to break out our phasers!!!!"

Technician: "Dr. Crusher's been using the shower head to have an orgasm. The pipes can't handle that long of a continuous flow. It happens every Wednesday. Just get out of the way and I'll patch it."
 
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Troi: Beverly what are you doing?
Beverly: I'm Alvin the Chipmunk. Cheep, cheep!
Troi: :wtf:
 
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Captain's log supplemental: The installation of punishment booths has been effective indeed at maintaining crew discipline, especially the pits of flesh-eating scarab beetles...
 
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Bass Player: At least it's not that pretentious robot.


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Data: The light bulb needs to be changed, sir.
Riker: I'll put it in my report to Starfleet. Where's that engineering team? We need to determine it's manufacture.
Worf: Shoot it out, Commander!
Engineer: Good thing I trained all those years as a warp field specialist. <Breaks out hand torch>
Worf & Riker: Whoa!
Data: WTF? <performs internal diagnostic>


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Thomas <out of the corner of his mouth>: Don't look now, Commander. There is one behind me disguised in an officer's uniform.

Will: Klingons are our allies now.

Thomas: There's a Klingon too?


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Crusher: Next distract your opponent with "The Camel Toe Maneuver."


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Thomas: Watch out for the Cave Monster!
Will: It's just an old blow up doll - that looks like Deanna.
Thomas: Oh, so that's where that went.
 
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Data was practising using his new practical joke circuit. Rubbing Riker's mouthpiece with Spot's faeces was going down a treat with the audience.


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Crusher: I hate this new uniform. I have to stand this way all the time or else my bust disappears completely.

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Rikers (in unison): I see what you mean. This beard does look shit.
 
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