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Fake Admiral: Welcome to the Delta Quadrant Campus of Starfleet Academy, eager young space cadets. Remember to look convincing at all times -- you never know when a real human being might be spying on us from behind those bushes over there.
Fake Boothby: Having problems with that tricorder, son?
Chakotay: Yes. According to these readings, I've been scanning a maple tree.
Boothby: It's busted all right: those are bamboos.
Chakotay: I was pointing it at myself.
Convulsing Fake Human: Hurrk! Gnniiiaaaah! AARRRRGGHH!
Chakotay: What's happening to that guy over there?
Fake Valerie: Not everyone can handle a Klingon martini.
Chakotay: For a second I thought you were going to tell me that he's a disguised alien reverting to his original form.
Valerie: That would have blown our cover, stupid.
Chakotay: You're right -- I forgot about that. Gee, this weird oxygen stuff we're breathing sure clouds a person's judgement, doesn't it?
Valerie: Just wait till you try dating.
Fake Ensign: Where am I? Have I been captured?
Janeway: Yup. Let's talk.
Fake Ensign: No! Stay away! Humans! Yuck! GAK!
Doctor: He's dead, Captain.
Janeway: I'm not sure, Commander, but I think we've just been insulted.
Chakotay: I'm sure.
Janeway: We've discovered that it's Species 8472 we're up against. Voyager is all that stands between them and a possible full-scale invasion of Earth. Recommendations?
Chakotay: I could go on a date with one of them and see if that helps.
Janeway: How soon can you be ready?
Chakotay: Finding this exact duplicate of Starfleet Academy makes me feel kind of nostalgic.
Janeway: Me too. For instance, do you remember what you were doing at nineteen-hundred hours on stardate 51452.8?
Chakotay: Wasn't I having dinner with you?
Janeway: Gosh, that's right. Fancy that. Jog my memory a bit: did I serve smooth or crunchy peanut butter after I burned the roast?
Chakotay: Captain, are you trying to find out if I'm an impostor or something?
Janeway: Darn. Was it the armed guards who tipped you off?
Paris: Have a good time tonight, Commander...hubba-hubba, y'know what I mean?
Kim: I've always wondered what that would be like.
Paris: You mean going out on a date with an alien chick?
Kim: I mean going out on a date.
Valerie: Excuse me while I get naked for a moment.
Chakotay: Mind if I have a look? Uh, I mean around your apartment?
Valerie: As long as you don't try to break into my computer, go right ahead.
Valerie: Isn't it customary for humans to exchange saliva-based DNA samples at the end of a date?
Chakotay: Have you considered reading a bit less Vulcan literature and a little more D. H. Lawrence in your spare time?
Chakotay: (over the comm) Chakotay to Delta Flyer. I think the aliens are getting suspicious about me.
Paris: What makes you say that?
Chakotay: The sunlight's just been turned on and a mob carrying torches and pitchforks is headed my way.
Seven: The Doctor and I have assembled sixty thousand nanoprobe warheads for use against Species 8472.
Janeway: That'll do for starters but I want oodles more.
Seven: I would have to work right through my lunch break in order to provide that many.
Janeway: I don't care. We're going to kick some fluidic butt, is that clear? Though I must say that it would be awfully nice if we could negotiate a peaceful resolution to all this.
Seven: What you are advocating makes no sense, Captain.
Janeway: Quiet, Seven -- I'm trying to appear conflicted here.
Boothby: I'd wager that he came here to set us up for an attack by Starfleet.
Chakotay: Not true. You have nothing to fear from us. As George Bernard Shaw once wrote....
Valerie: "When the military man approaches, the world locks up its spoons."
Chakotay: That's not the quote I had in mind.
Boothby: (over the viewscreen) Your puny ship is no match for our overwhelming firepower, young lady!
Janeway: And your flimsy defenses are no match for our devastating nanoprobe warheads, old timer!
Boothby: Hah! Your threats don't frighten me, you impudent little hellion!
Janeway: (pulling up sleeves) Oh yeah? Wanna step outside and repeat that to my face, buster?
Kim: (aside) Tuvok, should I cancel the coffee and cookies the Captain ordered for the Conference Room?
Tuvok: (aside) Not yet, Ensign. We must first ascertain if the aliens will respond to diplomacy and agree to beam over.
Boothby: A peace proposal? Hogwash! You're allied with the Borg, Captain, and the proof is sitting right there. She may be all dolled up, but you can't fool me into thinking that she's not a drone anymore.
Chakotay: You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the little silver number she used to wear last year.
Janeway: That's enough, Commander. Mr. Boothby, I can see only one way to end this paranoid nonsense. Seven, lower the shields and deactivate our weapons so that we're defenseless.
Boothby: Just what are you trying to prove, Captain?
Janeway: That humans are too stupid to pose any real threat to you.
Boothby: A persuasive demonstration. Okay, where do I sign?
Janeway: I hope your superiors will agree to continue the friendly dialogue that we've started here today.
Boothby: Well, the guys back home keep saying that we should look before we leap -- but me personally, I feel that he who hesitates is lost...so if the early bird manages to get the worm, then a stitch in time will have saved nine.
Janeway: Sheesh. Remind me not to complain the next time B'Elanna spouts technobabble at me.
Valerie: Mind if I kiss you one last time? I may never get the chance to do this again.
Chakotay: After five years of celibacy in the Delta Quadrant, I can relate to that.
(Voyager sails away at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END
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