Sheridan: What's the matter here?
Nightwatch Thug: This shopkeeper is displaying flagrantly illegal subversive signs.
Shopkeeper: As opposed to perfectly legal signs? Schmutz.
Sheridan: Let's have a look. "Clarke is a moocow." Cute. I'm surprised I never noticed them before.
Ivanova: This had better be worth my time, Garibaldi.
Garibaldi: I just thought you'd like to see what's on TV right now.
Bester: (over the comm) Hi. You have a problem.
Ivanova: Yes, we do. You. It baffles me why you keep coming here when you know I solve all my problems with a plasma saw.
Random Lurker: This is an --
Crazy Lurker: -- ex-parrot.
Random Lurker: I'm Brian of Nazareth --
Crazy Lurker: -- and so is my wife.
Random Lurker: Are you telling me --
Crazy Lurker: -- coconuts fly south for the winter?
Random Lurker: Dammit, quit reading my mind!
Ivanova: We have a problem.
Sheridan: So break out the plasma saw and deal with it. I don't see how this requires a full staff meeting.
Ivanova: This concerns all of us, so we all need to deal with it.
Sheridan: I don't know, I'm not very good with a plasma saw...
Londo: Vir, it's good to see you again... what are you wearing?
Vir: Oh, the necklace is from the Minbari Ritual of Disembarkation, the feathers are from the Ceremonial Presentation of the Salted Peanuts, and the model war cruiser is from my visit to the cockpit.
Londo: And the Minbari headbone?
Vir: I'm not entirely sure. See, I went to this party...
Nurse: Doctor, look at this.
Franklin: I'm very busy. This had better stimulate my imagination.
Nurse: We found these these two catatonics littering Downbelow. Every time she starts a sentence, he finishes it. It's almost as if he's reading her mind. Any ideas?
Franklin: My guess is...
Nurse: And don't say gnomes with tiny walkie-talkies.
Bester: (over the comm) Bester to Babylon Control. Prepare to initiate docking sequence.
Ivanova: Unlimber sponson... unship frizzen...
Bester: (over the comm) ...hello? Anyone there?
Ivanova: Deploy BFG... acquire target...
Bester: (over the comm) My Bestie-sense is tingling out here. You aren't planning anything unwise, are you?
Ivanova: FIR--
Sheridan: Belay that!
Ivanova: Are you here to talk me out of throwing my career away?
Sheridan: Not quite. How do you plan to display his desiccated head as a trophy if it's blown to ions?
Ivanova: Curse you and your reasoned arguments!
Bester: Captain, I demand to know why I... what's all this?
Sheridan: These are Minbari telepaths.
Bester: I can see that. Why are they holding lead sheets in front of you?
Sheridan: If you can't see us, you can't read our minds.
Bester: Brilliant deduction, captain. I'm over here, by the way.
Londo: I'm sorry, Ambassador, but we can't return your worlds. We've established a solid presence on them.
Drazi: We demand a total absence of Centauri, solid or otherwise!
Londo: You do not make demands of the Centauri Republic. We make demands of you.
Drazi: Huh?
Londo: Allow me to put this in terms you can understand: all your base are still belong to us.
Bester: Gentlemen, there is an illicit trade on your station in a substance that allows non-telepaths to commit a form of telepathic rape.
Sheridan: Oh, I saw this on TV once. Garibaldi, go track down that group of travelling memory archaeologists and throw them in the brig.
Bester: (sigh) Let me start again...
G'Kar: You got the stuff?
Loren: I got the stuff. You got the cash?
G'Kar: I'll show you the stuff when I see the cash.
Loren: You'll see the cash when you show me the stuff.
G'Kar: We appear to have reached an impasse.
Garibaldi: OK, Bester, I don't like you and you don't like me.
Bester: You will find stakeouts easier if you leave the lead sheet behind.
Garibaldi: You'd love that, wouldn't you. You can't wait for me to drop my defenses, and then BAM! You're in my head like a pak'ma'ra in carrion.
Bester: If you're going to insist on being paranoid and delusional, could you at least follow tradition and invest in a tinfoil hat?
G'Kar's Stream of Conciousness: My, what a curious sensation. My mind feels so open and unrestrained. Goodness, look at my hands. It's like Babylon 5: 3D. How extraordinary. I must got and show Mollari.
G'kar's Utterance: Braaaiiiiiiiins...
Garibaldi: All right, Ashi, here's the deal. I really hate Bester's interrogational methods. I think that they're brutal, heavy-handed and illegal. So what I'm going to do instead is just rough you up until you tell me what I want to know.
Bester: Your inability to grasp irony astounds me.
Ashi: Not the hair, not the hair! OK, I'll talk. The man running Dust is named Morgenstern.
Garibaldi: Morgenstern? Inconceivable!
Londo: Six months on Minbar, and this is all you have to report? No military secrets, no identification of easily-bribed government functionaries, no highly amusing embarrassing anecdotes about Delenn, just pages and pages of undotted I's, uncrossed T's and coffee stains describing endless ceremonies.
Vir: Londo, the Minbari are a deeply spiritual people...
Londo: Bah, spirituality! Don't let it seduce you, Vir. Spirituality isn't just beads and incense, it's also ripping open a man's chest and kindling a fire on his still-beating heart.
Vir: How do you know this?
Londo: (cough) No reason.
G'Kar: Mollaaaaaaarrrrrriiiii...
Londo: Yes, Dark Lor-- GAH!
G'Kar: Braaiiiiinnnns...
Garibaldi: On three, we jump them. One, two... THREE! (Whang!)
Bester: Wow, that lead sheet was good for something after all.
Garibaldi: An entire metal suitcase full of Dust. Feel that? That's the feel of victory. Go on, feel it.
Bester: No thanks, I'll pass. Your fingerprints seem so happy there by themselves that I'd hate to disturb them.
Londo: G'Kar, his brain twitching.
G'Kar: Londo, his eyes bleeding.
Londo: Now that you've vented your drug-fueled rage, we can go our separate ways and forget this ever happened, yes?
G'Kar: No, actually. I'd prefer to rifle through your memories... let's see, embarassing anecdotes, complicity in war atrocities, witnessing the bombing of the Narn homeword... I must say, those fires look rather fake.
Londo: Yes, we refer to the process as artificial incineration.
G'Kar's Dad: G'Kar...
G'Kar: Father?
G'Kar's Dad: Welcome to your memories, kid.
G'Kar: Father, I have to save you.
G'Kar's Dad: You already have... missed your chance! I hung on this tree for three days, and did anyone come cut me down? Noooooo...
G'Kar: Father...
G'Kar's Dad: And would it kill you to call once in a while? I have to show up in your hallucinations just to talk to you.
G'Kar: I'm beginning to remember why we never cut you down.
Vir: How's Londo?
Franklin: Apart from a concussion, some cracked ribs, assorted cuts and bruises and a severely damaged coif, he's fine.
Londo: Snakes! On a plane! Why did it have to be snakes on a plane?
Franklin: Oh yes, and some mild hallucinations. Apart from that, he's fine.
Londo: Snakes!
Franklin: When can you get him out of my MedLab?
Magistrate: Citizen G'Kar, before sentence is passed, is there anything you wish to say?
G'Kar: Not reall--
Sheridan: Yes! He was framed! It wasn't him, it was the one-armed Narn! Furthermore...
Magistrate: This could go on for a while. Before he finishes, I sentence you to 60 days in the brig.
G'Kar: Two months? If I'd known I'd get off that easy, I'd have beaten Mollari senseless years ago.
Vir: I must be off. I don't want to be late for the Ceremony of Welcome for the Returning Junior Ambassador (Centauri) on Minbar.
Londo: I hadn't believed it until now, but those Minbari really do have a ceremony for absolutely everything.
Vir: Yeah, it makes ordering a cup of coffee an adventure in patience.
Psi Cop: So the Dust experiment to breed telepaths from mundanes was a miserable failure?
Bester: Yes, and I'll thank you to stop discussing top-secret sensitive secrets in an unsecure corridor.
Psi Cop: Sorry.
Bester: Discretion in all things. Remember: build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door. Build a better telepath, and the world will beat a path to your door and then burn it down.
Garibaldi: How's the cell?
G'Kar: Adequate for my needs. All I require right now is a little peace and quiet so that I may rest a while.
Garibaldi: Rest in peace, my friend.
(The station spins at Solemn Speed)
THE END
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