Crusher: I need you for my next Gilbert and Sullivan production.
La Forge: Can't you ask Worf or Data or the Captain instead?
Crusher: Oh, come on. Can you picture those three singing operetta together?
Troi: Captain, meet our three science fair winners.
Patterson: Hi! I grew weird radishes in special dirt!
Troi: Wasn't that a clever and useful project, sir?
Picard: More so than anything you've ever done around here.
Picard: Let's go on our tour, kids. Lieutenant uh....
Monroe: The name's Monroe, sir.
Picard: Right. Whatever. You have the Bridge.
O'Brien: (muttering to himself) I have a bad feeling about this.
(KABOOM!)
Troi: Did we just hit an iceberg or something?
(KABOO-OOO-OOMMM!)
Monroe: GAK!
O'Brien: (muttering to himself) God, do I ever hate being right all the time....
Troi: Attention all hands. Would anyone who is either dead or alive please contact the bridge at once? Hello?
O'Brien: The comm system's down.
Crewman: The turbolifts are out too.
Troi: And Monroe's dead. That means I'm in command.
Ro: Chief, will you please stop muttering to yourself like that?
Patterson: Whaa-aaa-aaa-aaa!
Jay: Whaa-aaa-aaa-aaa!
Marissa: Whaa-aaa-aaa-aaa! The four of us are trapped in this turbolift!
Picard: Don't remind me.
Data: The ship is in a royal mess, Commander.
Riker: Then we'll have to improvise. Let's use Ten-Forward as a Sickbay and Worf as a nurse.
Worf: Are we really that desperate, sir?
Riker: Just go easy on that "putting them out of their misery" routine of yours, will you?
La Forge: That's a plasma fire.
Crusher: It's very pretty.
La Forge: You ain't seen nothing yet. Keep your eye on those fuel containers that are about to blow up.
O'Brien: If we lose containment, our antimatter pods will explode.
Troi: Would that do bad things to the ship?
Ro: Counselor, are you planning to take the Bridge Officer Exam someday?
Troi: I was thinking of it. Why do you ask?
Data: This electrical arc will prevent us from reaching Engineering. We are doomed, sir.
Riker: Don't lose your head, Data; I'm sure you'll find a way for us to get through.
Data: Hmm....
Worf: I will now set your broken bone. Brace yourself.
Crewman: AARRRRGGHH!
Worf: You bore that well.
Keiko: Worf, someone else over here has a fracture.
Worf: (smiling gleefully) Good.
Picard: What climbing song shall we sing?
Marissa: Do you know any Klingon opera?
Picard: I don't get a lot of requests for it.
Ro: We have to separate the ship before the drive section explodes!
O'Brien: What about all the people trapped down there?
Ro: With any luck they're already dead.
Troi: Ro, what kind of marks did you get in Starfleet Ethics class?
Ro: That's none of your darn business.
Data: I have fixed the containment field, sir. You may now unplug my head from the engineering console.
Riker: You're pretty casual about having no body, you know.
Data: "Detached" might be a better word.
Worf: Keiko, do you find my birthing instructions annoying?
(POW!)
Bystander: Boy, I bet his jaw's gonna hurt when he comes to.
Riker: You promoted Marissa to First Officer, sir?
Picard: And you took over as Captain, Counselor?
Troi: (hands on hips) I think it's high time the women started to run this ship. Computer -- coffee, black.
(The Enterprise sails away at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END | 
