The USS Enterprise is facing a Borg cube. Shields are down to 12% and the Borg are closing for the kill.
The Borg: “WE ARE THE BORG! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE”
Captain Picard: “Futile.”
The Borg: “FUTILE.”
Picard (slowly): “Phew-tile.”
The Borg: “Phew-til”.
Picard: “That's not how you pronounce it. Didn't anyone ever teach you proper English?”
PAUSE.
The Borg: “LISTEN BUDDY, WE MAY NOT SPEAK YOUR LA-DI-DA OXFORD ENGLISH, BUT AT LEAST WE'LL STILL BE HERE, ASSIMILATING SPECIES FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS. YOU'VE JUST GOT SEVEN SEASONS. THAT'S IT. SEVEN SEASONS, SOME CRAPPY MOVIES, AND YOU'RE DONE. YOU'LL SPEND THE REST OF YOUR CAREER DOING VOICEOVERS AND STARRING IN LOW-BUDGET HALLMARK DRAMAS.”
Picard: “Counsellor, what can you sense?”
Troi: “I'm getting an overpowering sense of arrogance, Captain. Self-confidence and an almost megalomaniacal …. Oh, wait. You mean from THEM?”
Worf: “Sir! I'm reading massive fluctuations in the Borg cube's warp core!”
Picard (annoyed): “Massive fluctuations in the Borg cube's warp core is a fine book, Mister Worf. I've read it myself. But I confine my reading to my off hours, and would recommend you do the same.” TURNS. “Mister Data, fire at will!”
Data: “Sir?”
Picard (exasperated): “Fire at will, Data!”
Data: “But, Captain...?”
Picard: “DO IT!”
Data shoots Riker. Somewhere, someone blows a single note on a trombone.
Picard: “Great Caesar's Ghost! I have to do EVERYTHING on this damn ship, don't I? Picard to Doctor Crusher.”
Crusher's voice from Sickbay: “Crusher here.”
Picard: “I want you to take Wesley to the transporter room.”
Crusher: “Why, Sir?”
Picard: “I'm playing a hunch here, Doctor. I believe that if we beam Wesley over to the Cube, the Borg will see what an insufferable little prig he is. They won't WANT to assimilate him, and they can only avoid that by not assimilating us!”
Crusher: “But won't my son be in terrible danger, Jean-Luc?”
Picard: “It's our only hope, Doctor. We can't defeat the Borg in open combat, we know that. This may be our only chance.”
Wesley: “Sir, I want to do it.”
Crusher: “But – but Wesley....!”
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Picard: “You heard the boy, Doctor. Now carry out my orders.”
Crusher: “Yes Captain.”
A FEW MOMENTS PASS
Worf: “Sir! It looks like it worked. The Borg are signalling they wish to return the boy!”
Picard (evasively): “Ah. Yes. Bit of a problem there, Mister Worf. I believe the transporters are malfunctioning at this time.”
O'Brien's voice from Transporter Room: “No Sir, no problem down here. Ready to beam Mister Crusher back on your mark.”
Picard: “Excuse me.” Leaves.
Sounds from the Transporter Room: PZZZZZZZZTTTBANNGG!
Picard, friom the Transporter Room: “Ah yes, just as I thought! Transporters are completely offline. Also, Mister O'Brien needs medical attention. Well, we tried. Now take us out of here, warp factor nine!”
Crusher: “But Jean-Luc! What about Wesley?”
Picard: “I'll put him in for a commendation, Doctor. Engage! Mr. Data, you have the con, I'll be in my ready room.”
PICARD'S READY ROOM
Picard: “Finally! Computer, champagne, chilled. One glass, Make it so.”
EPILOGUE: BORGSPACE.
Borg Queen: “Identify cube carrying human sub-unit known as Wesley Crusher.”
The Borg: “IDENTIFIED.”
Borg Queen: “Fire all weapons!”
The Borg: “CUBE HAS BEEN DESTROYED.”
Borg Queen: “THAT was fucking CLOSE!”
The Borg: “WE ARE THE BORG! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE”
Captain Picard: “Futile.”
The Borg: “FUTILE.”
Picard (slowly): “Phew-tile.”
The Borg: “Phew-til”.
Picard: “That's not how you pronounce it. Didn't anyone ever teach you proper English?”
PAUSE.
The Borg: “LISTEN BUDDY, WE MAY NOT SPEAK YOUR LA-DI-DA OXFORD ENGLISH, BUT AT LEAST WE'LL STILL BE HERE, ASSIMILATING SPECIES FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS. YOU'VE JUST GOT SEVEN SEASONS. THAT'S IT. SEVEN SEASONS, SOME CRAPPY MOVIES, AND YOU'RE DONE. YOU'LL SPEND THE REST OF YOUR CAREER DOING VOICEOVERS AND STARRING IN LOW-BUDGET HALLMARK DRAMAS.”
Picard: “Counsellor, what can you sense?”
Troi: “I'm getting an overpowering sense of arrogance, Captain. Self-confidence and an almost megalomaniacal …. Oh, wait. You mean from THEM?”
Worf: “Sir! I'm reading massive fluctuations in the Borg cube's warp core!”
Picard (annoyed): “Massive fluctuations in the Borg cube's warp core is a fine book, Mister Worf. I've read it myself. But I confine my reading to my off hours, and would recommend you do the same.” TURNS. “Mister Data, fire at will!”
Data: “Sir?”
Picard (exasperated): “Fire at will, Data!”
Data: “But, Captain...?”
Picard: “DO IT!”
Data shoots Riker. Somewhere, someone blows a single note on a trombone.
Picard: “Great Caesar's Ghost! I have to do EVERYTHING on this damn ship, don't I? Picard to Doctor Crusher.”
Crusher's voice from Sickbay: “Crusher here.”
Picard: “I want you to take Wesley to the transporter room.”
Crusher: “Why, Sir?”
Picard: “I'm playing a hunch here, Doctor. I believe that if we beam Wesley over to the Cube, the Borg will see what an insufferable little prig he is. They won't WANT to assimilate him, and they can only avoid that by not assimilating us!”
Crusher: “But won't my son be in terrible danger, Jean-Luc?”
Picard: “It's our only hope, Doctor. We can't defeat the Borg in open combat, we know that. This may be our only chance.”
Wesley: “Sir, I want to do it.”
Crusher: “But – but Wesley....!”
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Picard: “You heard the boy, Doctor. Now carry out my orders.”
Crusher: “Yes Captain.”
A FEW MOMENTS PASS
Worf: “Sir! It looks like it worked. The Borg are signalling they wish to return the boy!”
Picard (evasively): “Ah. Yes. Bit of a problem there, Mister Worf. I believe the transporters are malfunctioning at this time.”
O'Brien's voice from Transporter Room: “No Sir, no problem down here. Ready to beam Mister Crusher back on your mark.”
Picard: “Excuse me.” Leaves.
Sounds from the Transporter Room: PZZZZZZZZTTTBANNGG!
Picard, friom the Transporter Room: “Ah yes, just as I thought! Transporters are completely offline. Also, Mister O'Brien needs medical attention. Well, we tried. Now take us out of here, warp factor nine!”
Crusher: “But Jean-Luc! What about Wesley?”
Picard: “I'll put him in for a commendation, Doctor. Engage! Mr. Data, you have the con, I'll be in my ready room.”
PICARD'S READY ROOM
Picard: “Finally! Computer, champagne, chilled. One glass, Make it so.”
EPILOGUE: BORGSPACE.
Borg Queen: “Identify cube carrying human sub-unit known as Wesley Crusher.”
The Borg: “IDENTIFIED.”
Borg Queen: “Fire all weapons!”
The Borg: “CUBE HAS BEEN DESTROYED.”
Borg Queen: “THAT was fucking CLOSE!”
Hats off to you. 
