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Contest: ENTER TNG Caption This! #489: It's Data!

LeadHead

Director of Comedy
Premium Member
Hello and welcome to the new contest!

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First up to the plate, the "Smart Medicine" Award goes to Smellincoffee for:

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Troi: I got a headache, and the only prescription is less cowbell.


Next, we have the "More Cats!" Award, going to JirinPanthosa for:

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TROI: Political post...political post...political post...man, Facebook sucks now! Ooh, cat video.

Next, we have the "Can't best The Picard" Award, going to tharpdevenport for:

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Baclay: "Counselor, how do you like my Picard 'Full of WIN' impression?"

Troi: "You are not full of win, Barclay."


Next, we have the "Worst Sequel EVER" Award, going to Hutchy01 for:

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Shades of Grey 2, the episode no-one wanted.


Next, we have the "Universal Language" Award, going to Triskelion for:

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Troi: "S'smarith." What did I just say?
Picard: "Cup? Glass?"
Troi: Are you sure? I may have meant liquid, clear, brown, hot.
Picard: Is Wesley in the room?
Troi: Maybe.
Picard: Ah. "Shut up, Wesley."
Troi: And that's how a Universal Translator is totally plausible!


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The Award goes to The Laughing Vulcan for:

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Counselor's Log: "I've been staring at this damn picture of someone staring at a damn picture trying to come up with a caption for a competion... trying to come up with a caption for a competion myself for hours now. I bet no-one else ever had this problem."

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This weeks KBL goes to Catarina for:

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Worf: Were you having that dream again where a 20th century woman wrote us having a romantic involvement?


Many thanks to everyone who participated and congrats to our winners!

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for... Lieutenant Commander Data!

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Enjoy!
 
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Data: Now we do things my way!

Picard: (entering the bridge) And what exactly does that mean?

Data: Get out of my chair, Wesley.

Picard: Well done, Mister Data.

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Data: You NEVER delete any emails?

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Data: It was raining in the city by the bay-

Riker: So this program was taking place before the 21st Century?

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Worf: Recliners are without honor.

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Data: Note to self: Tractor beams aren't magic in this episode.
 
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Data: It's the fucking buffoon. His dumb idea would have worked. Just have threes randomly pop up so the crew would not suspect i can send messages in sentence form to my past selves. Fucking Riker.
 
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DATA: "Personal log, LTCMDR Data. It is with sad news that I must report the death of my favorite pet tricorder, Spot. I have asked the Captain for some personal time to express my grief appropriately, and was advised to take as much time off as needed, provided it was in Engineering.
I conducted services in the warp core per the Captain's request, and now I've been instructed to deactivate myself.
Goodbye.
End log."
 
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Data: "The sidewalks smelt of urine in the City by the Bay ..."

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Data: message to self

** send Wesley to main shuttle bay **
** recomment explosive decompression of main shuttle bay **
 
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Data: For the next chapter, we are supposed to use a young boy to make an example in order to stop Dix from investigating.

Geordi: Let's use Wesley

Picard: Splenid!

Riker: The safeties are off line on all holodecks...

Picard; What..? I didn't hear you. Anyway, let's go, Data. And you..Geordi, get Wesley!
 
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DATA: I understand. You found paradise in America, you had a good trade, you made a good living. The police protected you and there were courts of law. You didn't need a friend like me. But, now you come to me, and you say: "Don Corleone, give me justice." But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to do murder for money.
GEORDI: So, who's that? Bogart?
DATA: I hate you.
 
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Data: There's cat food in that atmosphere!


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Beverly: What the hell?!? Why are you looking at Tasha's file?
 
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DATA: I'm sorry Captain. The Rogain is not working. In fact it might be making things worse.

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DATA: I am curious, Doctor. How does one accidentally type "Bolian Sex Party" into the search field.
CRUSHER: Just fix it!
 
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Data: You NEVER delete any emails?

Data: Furthermore, you have to set Outlook to empty the Deleted Items folder when you shut down, that is the whole point of the Deleted Items folder, it is not for storing items you may need, it is for deleted items!





(Can you tell this is a pet peeve of mine?)
 
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DATA: Query. Why are the moon and planet so close to each other? There should be a hundred moon-lengths in between.
PICARD: We're not supposed to notice those kinds of things Data.

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DATA: Doctor. Do you intend to keep watching me until I 'like' your photos of Wesley?
BEVERLY: Yes.

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GEORDI: So Data, what should we do about the smudges on the console?
DATA: I say we RUB EM OUT!
GEORDI: I see. And what is the best way to give back massages?
DATA: RUB EM OUT!
GEORDI: And what do we do when the table cloth is uneven?
DATA: RUB EM OUT!
PICARD: Geordi, are you finished?
GEORDI: I love it when Data is on theme!

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DATA: Hmm...where could my console be? Could it be there? No, it couldn't be there, Worf is sitting there. Could it be over there? Hmm...no...
WORF: Commander, I know you are experimenting with human passive-aggressiveness, but I must warn you if you continue to do it toward me you will end up in pieces.

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DATA: I will send the message 'Six', to tell the Enterprise they should turn around and go 'Six o clock'. One...two...thr... *boom*
 
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WORF: If I ever get a regular bridge position it's gonna be one with a chair. This is great.
 
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Data never seemed to grasped the humor and intrigue of the "Musical chairs day"

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Data: I did not suspect that you were being literal when you referred to the captain as a "Heartless Bastard" until I saw this medical record of Dr. Pulaski's and the stardate on his parents' marital certificate, which would seem to verify both counts

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Data: After we were all safe, I took a gander around the city

Geordi: Really Data? What did you see?

Data: No Geordi, I went around the city with an actual male goose

Geordi: I really need to fix that holodeck

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Data: You've got Worf manning my station? What next, Troi flying the ship?

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Data: Night watch commanding officers log, supplemental: Length of distance traveled on my new pedometer during my shift, 0.00 meters
 
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Data: "Feed Spot..."

tap tap tap

"Perform regularly assigned duties..."

tappity tap tap tap

"Perform sceduled--"

Picard: "ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! I REPEAT!"

Data: "Oh, shit, better hurry up. Advise Geordi of--"

Picard: "ALL HANDS"

Data: "Fuck. Three!"

TAP TAP TAP.
 
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Data: Nurse on my circuitry little exocomp baby. That's a gooood little exocomp baby

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Data: So what am I supposed to do... screw up at tactical or get my ass kicked?
 
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Second Officer's Log: Look into installing hydraulics into my legs so I could alter my height by about half a meter so I would be able to plant my crotch into Worf to help me understand Riker's essence of his Humanity.
 
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Brent's Journal: We did a forgettable episode. Nobody will remember anything that happened in this episode, assuming folks would remember the show beyond this season.
 
Why? Because I can.


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And with precious few second remaining before total destruction, Data's fingers leap into action to warn themselves in the next loop about upgrading the ship's computer to Samsung Galaxy-Class Note 7.



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Beverly: "Data, what is that?"

Data: "Oh, Doctor, I was browsing something called 'the internet' or 'interwebs'. A primitive information system still in use by humans for news and entertainment."

Beverly: "Hum, I think I heard Wesley mention that once. What have you found?"

Data: "So far 36 billion cat videos, including what apepars to be Spot on a treadmill. And ... oh ... oh my..."

Beverly: "What is it, Data?"

Data: "Several fan fictions of gratuitous sexual nature involving me and Lt. Tasha Yar. I do not understand how "I am fully functional' could be misinterpreted."

Beverly: "That's just normal, Data."

Data: "And me and Lt. LaForge in some rather ... compromising positions. Computer: DELETE THE INTERNET."
 
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