Alsia: Times are tough. My mother is sick on Bajor, and I'm working my way through college.
Martus: Go on, I'm listening.
Alsia: My aunt is also the Princess of Nye Jiria, and she needs your help in moving a large sum of money off-planet, and I could really use a few quatloos until payday...
Martus: You poor thing! I'd be glad to help you. Do go on.
Odo: You! Don't you know it's illegal to be this gullible?
Martus: Quiet! You're queering the deal!
Martus: What's that?
Jailbird: It will make you rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
Martus: Who's Avarice?
Jailbird: I dunno. Some dude with lots of riches.
Martus: Has it brought you much good fortune?
Jailbird: GAK!
Martus: I'll take that as a no.
O'Brien: It was like playing racquetball against a machine.
Keiko: Oh, you poor baby.
O'Brien: I finally had to fake a heart attack to get out of it.
Keiko: Good thinking. A doctor would never see through that.
O'Brien: Yeah, exac-- Hey! Whose side are you on?
Bashir: It was like playing racquetball as a machine.
Dax: Oh, you poor baby.
Bashir: I think he ended up faking a heart attack to get out of it, but I can't be sure.
Dax: As a doctor, you should have been able to tell right away.
Bashir: Yeah, exac-- Hey! Whose side are you on?
Dax: Does anyone else have a feeling of d�j� vu?
Martus: Look at this. It can make you rich beyond the dreams of Everest.
Quark: Who's Everest?
Martus: I dunno. Some dude with mountains of riches.
Quark: That little thing will make me rich? Hah! Come back when it's the size of a shuttlepod.
Martus: Look at this. It can make you rich beyond the dreams of Avalon.
Roana: Who's Avalon?
Martus: I dunno. Some dude with kingly riches.
Roana: That little thing will make me rich?
Martus: It will when it's the size of a shuttlepod.
Quark: It's like running a bar against a machine!
Sisko: I'm sorry, what does this have to do with racquetball?
Quark: Racquetball? Commander, you're a genius!
Sisko: See, this is what I keep telling people, but they never believe me.
Rom: You can't quit, I fire me!
Quark: Fine, go. I'll hire someone ever dumber than you are.
Rom: Hah! And where do you think you're going to find someone like that?
Marcus: I predict this partnership will be a profitable one.
Roana: Can I call you Fendor? It's a Bajoran term meaning "One who survives on his wits."
Marcus: Sure, I guess.
Roana: How about Humperdinck?
Marcus: Absolutely not.
Martus: Hear that? That's the sounds of success: people drinking, gambling, filling my coffers.
Roana: You don't think small.
Martus: My family told me I should follow my cousin's lead and become a bartender on a starship, but I had bigger plans.
Roana: So you're a bartender on a space station?
Odo: Pakleds?
Quark: Yeah. I pay all my employees by the IQ point, and even two of these guys cost less than Rom.
Odo: Is that a good idea? They appear to be using power cables to connect an ancient Japanese board game to your replicator.
Pakled: We look to Go to make us things.
Dax: That's odd.
Sisko: What?
Dax: I was playing Tetris on my console, and I got the same piece 147 times in a row.
Sisko: That is odd... as if the laws of probability have taken a holiday.
Dax: Don't be absurd. What are the odds of that happening?
Quark: Gentlemen, picture this: Celebrity Deathmatch Racquetball, featuring the two of you.
O'Brien: Celebrity?
Bashir: Death?
Quark: I know, but "Celebrity Cakematch Racquetball" just doesn't have the same ring to it.
Bashir: Hmmm... cake or death...
Quark: I could make it pie.
Bashir and O'Brien: Sold.
Rom: I wonder how Quark is getting on with his Pakleds.
Quark: (running by en flamb�) Vermouth! Vermouth! Vermouth is on fire!
Martus: (contemplative pause) Should we put him out?
Rom: Naw, let the little bugger burn.
Dax: Dammit! I've been trying to load Tetris for the past half hour, but all I can get is my grant reapplication form.
Sisko: Maybe the universe wants you to get some work done.
Ops Crew: (general merriment)
Sisko: No, seriously, this is getting weird. Go investigate. If you really want to play Tetris, you can restack the boxes in the cargo bay.
Martus: I'd like to discuss your promotion prospects.
Barmaid: Aren't you worried about stringing along your business partner? What if she walks in here and finds us like this?
Martus: Relax. For that to happen, it would require an incredible stroke of bad...
Roana: MAR-TUS! Martus Fendor, your name is mud!
Martus: ...luck.
Martus: So, this princess aunt of yours... how much money does she need transferred off-planet?
Alsia: Oh, you'll help us? Great! Give me your bank information and a little latinum to cover incidental fees, and I'll start transferring funds right away. Thanks!
(exeunt)
Martus: Hah, sucker! Excellent. My ridiculously circuitous plan is one-quarter complete.
Dax: Aha! I've found the cause of our problems.
Sisko: Psst, Chief, five credits says it's tachyons.
Dax: It's neutrinos.
Sisko: What?!
O'Brien: Pay up, sir.
Sisko: But it's always tachyons!
Quark: Before your match, Doctor, I have a gift for you. Make sure you drink all of it.
Bashir: What is it?
Quark: It's... umm... a tri-ox compound. To help you, um, breathe. In the thin... desert... air?
Bshir: Is that the best you can do, Quark? I'm ashamed of you.
Quark: I'm ashamed of me too.
Bashir: Pick!
O'Brien: Pock!
Bashir: Pick!
O'Brien: Pock!
Bashir: Doesn't this seem a little odd?
O'Brien: What, using the balls to hit a racquet back and forth? Actually, now that you mention it...
Dax: Sir, it looks like the weirdness is centred in Club Martus.
Sisko: You'd better go investigate.
Dax: It could be dangerous.
Sisko: Hmmm... you'd better go with her, Chief.
O'Brien: The lengths you'll go to avoid paying a wager...
Dax: The statistical weirdness is highest in this room. It's either being caused by the gigantic gambling thingies or that tiny arcane artifact above the bar.
Sisko: The gambling thingies are a bigger target. Take 'em out.
Phasers: Fzzap!
Gambling Thingies: Ka-BOOM!
Laws of Probability: (relaxing siiiiiiiiiigh...)
Martus: Now what do I do?
Odo: You can come with me to a holding cell.
Martus: On what charge? It's not a crime to break the laws of physics.
Odo: It is on my station. Let's go.
Odo: Your 3 PM gloating is here.
Martus: I didn't order a gloating.
Quark: No, but I did.
Martus: Crud. What's in the sack?
Quark: A pint of comeuppance and a berth on a ship leaving my station.
Martus: I'll take what I can get. Anything else?
Quark: Yes, a word of advice: brush up on your Pakled....
(The station turns at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END
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