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Contest: ENTER TNG Caption This! #532: Halloween Week!

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Worf: My God. It's full of stars.
 
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LaForge: He's outside our space-time continuum....leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once when wrong and hoping that each time his next leap will be the leap home.

Picard: I've seen this before. We have to stop him before ends up captaining a ship in our past.
 
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WORF: I was unaware the people of Gideon had a Bible.

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PICARD: Check it out, guys. I found my old Halloween costume. Guys? Guys?

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SCHULTZ: Are you sure this shot won't highlight my bald spot?
DIRECTOR: Nah, you're looking great, Dwight.
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UNCLE OWEN (off camera): You find me that Bocce speaking droid yet? Hello?? You in there?
LUKE (off camera): Ever wonder what they do inside those Sandcrawlers?
 
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LA FORGE: Sir, what you had there is what we refer to as a focused, non-terminal, repeating phantasm or a class-five full-roaming vapor. A real nasty one, too
 
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I am Locutus of Borg. Can I interest you in our range of life insurance policies? Resistance is futile.
 
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Picard: "Lieutenant, we're sorry to say that Mr. Data's findings were that that is not a laser-to-brain optical interface, but rather a hair removal laser. It's killing the roots as we speak. Naturally you will have to be transferred -- there can only be one bald man on this ship."
 
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Alien: Experiment 77. The subject appears to have assimilated the false memory and is none the wiser, something about an engineer from two hundred years ago...
 
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Hellooo!!!

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hello?

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Hellooo!!!
Hellooo!!!
Hellooo!!!

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....?
 
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LaForge: She doesn't look like her profile pic at all.

Picard: Doesn't matter. You're gonna strikeout with her just like you do with every other woman you date. I mean for fuck sake even the Dr. Brahms hologram, which you programed to like you, didn't want anything to do with you and even deleted herself to get away from you.
 
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ALIEN: One more sample of the parasites we only found on this human and we can send him back to his dimension.

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ENSIGN: Man, I need this assignment like I need a hole in the head.

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WORF: It's a DVD set. He must have tried to watch all of Babylon 5 in one sitting and forgot humans needed to eat.

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GEORDI: You know I'm not going to tell the admiral that you let your bartender dictate your away team assignments.

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LOCUTUS: Don't worry, this is the only cube of this kind of Borg. There's another far weaker kind of Borg a lot more common in the delta quadrant.
 
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BLUE FAIRY: Your wished is granted. You are now a real boy.
PICARD: That was supposed to Data!
BLUE FAIRY: Wait, this guy was real?
 
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Fish Man: Five fingers! This creature can easily hold tools! The bastard!


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Picard: Don't worry gentlemen, I believe his BARC(ley) is worse than his bite.


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Dorn: Tracy...we're sorry what happened to the script, but you can't stay in there forever.


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Picard: Merde... the results of the UV light are obvious. Commander Riker has been here before.


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Locutus: Ha ha, I tormented that cat real good.
 
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Barclay: By eradicating currency, you have only exacerbated the need for weapons of mass destruction, and necessitated a corruptable and armed society.
Riker: Ask him how we can hear phasers in space
 
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Worf: "Sir, I have found the source of the ease dropping device -- it's hidden inside this complimentary Bible. Turns out 20th century comedians and conspiracy theorists were right."
 
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Worf: My tricorder is picking up large quantities of cotton lint.
Shelby: Shelby to Enterprise. If Worf's readings are right, and judging by this overhead dryer tube, I believe we've found the hive's central laundromat. The vent hasn't been cleaned in years.
Data: Sir, we may be able to use their inaction to our advantage.
Riker: We can stop them with a lint fire?! Proceed with dispatch, Mr. Data!
 
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Picard: You guys, check out the new iphone! Complete neural connection, external hardware apps -- I'm so plugged into social media right now it's like I can literally hear voices in my head.

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Picard: Mister Barclay, stop stimulating yourself!
(muffled snickers)
Picard: Oh, grow up, you two.


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Alien: Now, where's that marinade...
 
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