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McCoy's increasingly weak bladder complicated all his secret romantic liaisons with Nurse Chapel.
NO-NAME LIEUTENANT:"You ever have one of those days, Mister Scott, when you wish time-traveling Starfleet people from a hundred years in the future would come back get involved in a violent bar brawl?"
Knock up a girl while she's propped against a bulkhead and then LEAVE like a flaccid coward!! See if I care!!!"
FREEMAN:"This is the life, ain't it?
We get to wear tight velour that shrinks in uncomfortable places...drink liquor that looks like it came straight out of the malfunctioning engine conduits of an Orion freighter...get in bar fights with aliens who look like villains from old 20th century Fu Manchu movies...and then to top it all off, go back to our ship and watch our own captain get all the tail and leave nothing for us!"
"Easy, lads...don't drink TOO much. The barkeep's got a special surprise for us a little later on...somethin' he calls a Tossed Salad. He suggests we not be TOO drunk or else neither of us will bloody enjoy it."
"Doctor...do...do you ever get that...not-so FUTURISTIC feeling?"