Sorry to hear of your troubles,
Leadhead. Glad you're on the mend.
Troi: Face it, Captain, I'm the counselor you deserve, not the one you need right now.
While pretending to be unconscious, in order to get some well deserved rest, Picard didn't know what disturbed him more, Crusher's lackadaisical approach to his condition, Ogawa's blatant "I'd rather be anywhere but here" demeanor, or Riker's eagerness to declare him dead.
Captain's Log: I can't decide which I hate more, what can only be described as Riker's "Merde-eating grin" or Troi's ability to sleep with her eyes open.
Crusher: It was me, Worf! I replaced your Klingon Opera collection with 21st Century Earth singer Justin Bieber. And you thought it was Wesley all this time! I bet that pisses you off to no extent.
Worf: It would, if I wasn't wondering why it took you so long to come clean. The Klingon torture techniques I used on that boy should have sent any worthwhile mother into a bloodlust the likes of which would scare even a Klingon.
Crusher: Hey, I said I committed the prank, I never said Wesley didn't deserve what he got...
Geordi: Data, why are parts of you glowing under this black light?
Data: I am programmed in multiple techniques. A broad variety of pleasuring.
Geordi: Ew. Note to self, ask to be assigned another partner. Oh, and for bigger shuttle craft cockpits, too, while we're at it.