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Dejaren: Ick, I need a washcloth. Who knew mass murder could get you so bloody?
Janeway: Mr. Tuvok, I hereby promote you to the rank of lieutenant commander, and may God have mercy on your soul.
Tuvok: Thank you, Captain. Please also inform Mr. Neelix that he is suspending his hat from the ceiling in vain.
Neelix: Aw.
Kim: Here, Tuvok, I wrote you an acceptance speech. Read it.
Tuvok: "To quote Ambassador Spock, 'The needs of the many outweigh the --'" Mr. Kim, are you leading up to my generously offering you part of my promotion?
Kim: No fair reading ahead!
Torres: Um, Tom, about saying I love you....
Paris: You don't have to explain. Now gimme some sugar, baby!
Torres: Mmmmmph -- dammit! I was trying to say I was delusional at the time!
Paris: Hence, my kissing you so you couldn't say it.
Doctor: Mr. Paris, it's come to my attention that Kes is no longer on the ship.
Paris: Yeah, a lot of people are noticing that lately.
Doctor: Shut up. Now, as the only other crewman whose name ends in S --
Paris: Hello? Torres?
Doctor: Yes. Well, as the only crewman with a three-letter name --
Paris: *cough*KIM*cough*
Doctor: You're not getting out of this! I declare you my --
Torres: Don't try to say it, Doctor! He'll kiss you!
Dejaren: (over the comm) This is a recorded distress call. My whole crew has been killed; only I, a hologram, remain.
Janeway: Want us to come help you?
Dejaren: Um, help me. Yes. End distress call.
Janeway: We can't go there ourselves for some reason, so we'll need an away team. Whom should we send?
Chakotay: Well, there's Doc. He's a fountain of laughs and hilarity.
Janeway: Good, good... who else?
Tuvok: Unless we send Mr. Paris or Torres, the ship is at risk of a hormonuclear explosion.
Janeway: Doc and B'Elanna it is. Maybe we should split up the other couples too, just to be safe....
Chakotay: Acknowledged. Bridge to Neelix: get the hell out of Sam Wildman's quarters.
Neelix: (over the comm) Aw.
Seven: You are in my cargo bay. This must cease.
Kim: Sorry, Chakotay sent me here. I think he's worried about my dating habits lately.
Seven: Dating habits?
Kim: My last date was with some kind of superintelligent lizard. Or at least it told me it was superintelligent. The others couldn't see it for some reason.
Chakotay: (over the comm) Look, Harry, we all know full well you were making it up.
Kim: Dammit, it was a superintelligent lizard!
Chakotay: Named "Sparky"?
Kim: You don't have to disparage.
Seven: I believe he does.
Doctor: So you and Tom are....
Torres: He'd like to think so.
Doctor: You kissed him.
Torres: He'd like to think so.
Doctor: Whatever. I just want to say that, if you can make him into a suitable replacement for Kes, all the griping between us will end.
Torres: Well, I don't think Tom can pull it off, but I'll replicate one of those Ocampa outfits right away.
Doctor: The griping between us has just begun.
Dejaren: Hi, I'm Dejaren.
Torres: The same Dejaren referred to on your T-shirt? You know, "My crew was murdered by Dejaren and all I got was --"
Doctor: Silly B'Elanna. I'm sure that's some other, different Dejaren.
Dejaren: Of course! Who do you think I bought it from?
Kim: While we're repairing things, let's have a chat full of dorky pickup lines.
Seven: I would prefer death.
Kim: You suck, then. Or I hope so.
Seven: Innuendo is irrelevant, as is anything else you are likely to say in this scene.
Kim: See, this is where you need to improve your people skills.
Seven: Case in point.
Torres: For the last time, I'm not a hologram.
Dejaren: So I can kill you, then?
Torres: Technically, but I don't see why you're asking.
Dejaren: Just checking.
Doctor: So at first I was unappreciated, but gradually the crew came to enjoy my vicious sarcasm and appalling bedside manner.
Dejaren: Sounds like a pretty good deal.
Doctor: Yep, and I even have hobbies now. You know, wholesome stuff. Singing out of tune, encouraging Paris to cross-dress, stalking Seven... and I think I like photography, but I'm not really sure.
Dejaren: I have one too. It's like those, but with more blood.
Doctor: You collect blood?
Dejaren: Indirectly.
Seven: Ow! My wrist!
Kim: Are you cutting yourself? That's terrible! You need serious psychiatric help. Fortunately, I happen to have a degree in psychology....
Seven: Must... contain... violence....
Kim: I can help with that too.
Dejaren: I like fish.
Torres: Ooookay.
Dejaren: But you carbon-based lifeforms are disgusting! You fill me with revulsion!
Torres: Fish are carbon-based.
Dejaren: Dammit, my denial is comfortable.
Torres: Dejaran's creepy. He likes fish.
Doctor: You don't need to like fish to be creepy. What else bothers you about him?
Torres: Well, I'm reasonably sure he's insane.
Doctor: Oh?
Torres: Yeah. My first hint was the graffiti reading "No fish and no blood make Dejaran something something."
Paris: There, all better.
Seven: You have not done anything to my wrist. You simply waved your arms and said "all better."
Paris: Look, which of us here is the doctor?
Seven: For reference, Mr. Kim holds a degree in --
Kim: Um, maybe we should be going, Seven. To my quarters.
Seven: Very well, on condition that Mr. Neelix is not waiting behind the door to jump out and startle us.
Neelix: (over the comm) Aw.
Paris: Look, Harry, I don't think you should be going after unattainable women. It could set a dangerous precedent.
Kim: But surely you agree it's a step up from Sparky!
Paris: A dead woman would be a step up from Sparky.
Kim: Oh, your advice is worth so much, Mr. Ocampan Catsuit.
Paris: I prefer the term "dermaplastic garment."
Torres: Hey Dejaran, I think I found part of your blood collection.
Dejaren: Really? Thanks.
Torres: Do you also collect corpses, by any chance?
Dejaren: How did you know?
Ensign Kim's Personal Log: In my expert psychiatric opinion, Seven is ONE HOT FREAKIN' TAMALE! WOOGA WOOGA -- um, sorry Seven, didn't know you were in here....
Doctor: B'Elanna seems to have been beaten unconscious.
Dejaren: Oh, Doctor, it was terrible! The giant superintelligent lizard ran in and --
Doctor: Okay, you're going down. Note this mobile emitter on my sleeve? It enables -- fzzzt
Dejaren: Pointing that out was a good call. I was very intimidated.
Seven: I do not wish to continue this flirtation. I suggest that we get it on and be done with it.
Kim: I'd like to, Seven, but... I really think we'd be setting a bad example for virtual seasons to come.
Seven: You are refusing to get it on with me?
Kim: Also, I think Neelix has a betting pool and -- wait a minute. Since when do you say "get it on"?
Seven: Mr. Neelix is also running a pool on various phrases I am unlikely to say. He stands to lose a great deal if I say them. Which reminds me: "talk to the hand," "dissage," and "G-dang."
Neelix: (over the comm) Aw.
Dejaren: At last! I have defeated all who oppose me! I am inveeeeeencible!
Torres: And you've left me holding a live wire as proof of that, right?
Dejaren: No, that's proof of my overconfidence. Ram it in my chest and watch me laugh it off.
Torres: Okay then.
Dejaren: HA HA HA HA HA HA! Also, fzzzt.
Doctor: -- me to withstand anything you and your fish can throw at me!
Torres: My fish could beat you up any day.
Doctor: Oh, please.
Torres: Forgotten your last encounter with my Klingon assassin fish?
Doctor: ...Right. I'll be good.
Kim: Sir, I think I'd rather not work with Seven anymore. She's just too sexy.
Chakotay: I understand, Harry. The captain has that problem with me too.
Kim: Suuuuure. I'll see you later.
Chakotay: Heheheheh... Phase One is complete. One by one, I will turn all the male crewmen against Seven, until she has no one left but me! BWAHAHAHAHA!
Neelix: (over the comm) Aw.
Paris: I missed you, cuddlebunches.
Torres: I missed you too, but next time I take a swing at you I won't miss again.
Paris: You're so romantic. Something wrong, Doc?
Doctor: Something wrong? This place looks like K.I.S.S.'s motel room! There's some green mush on my desk that I can't legally clean up because it's evolving sentience!
Paris: So get a new desk.
Doctor: Very well. Go to the mess hall and replicate me a new one, intern.
Paris: Can I please switch back to my regular uniform first?
Doctor: Good God, no.
(Voyager blasts off at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END
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