Janeway: So you be Demi and I'll be Pat.
Seven: Ghost is irrelevant.
Janeway: Okay. Wasn't da Vinci great? Look -- a wooden birdie.
Seven: Birdies are irrel--whoa.
Janeway: What's wrong?
Seven: Who knows?
Seven: There were Borg and birds and fear.
Doc: That's nice. How about dinner sometime?
Seven: Food is irrelevant.
Doc: With Neelix, we sure wish it was. Now git.
Gaumen: You suck.
Janeway: Likewise.
Gaumen: You will take this route through our space.
Janeway: This route sucks almost as you do.
Gaumen: Too bad.
Janeway: I know.
Seven: Give me this.
Neelix: Okay.
Seven: Resistance was futile. You were assimilated.
Neelix: At least I know how to sit.
Seven: Nice spork, Species 218.
Neelix: Now swallow.
Seven: Duh, you--whoa. Bye.
Neelix: Now who's assimilated? Huh?
Gaumen: You fools!
Tuvok: Seven of Nine sucks.
Gaumen: What's with the Borg?
Janeway: She's not a Borg.
Gaumen: Bullsh--
Tuvok: Alert: Seven sucks even more.
Kim: Thank God she left.
Janeway: Can we go get our Borg?
Gaumen: No.
Janeway: Please?
Gaumen: I said no! Now get out.
Janeway: Okay, wink, wink.
Gaumen: Wink, wink?
Janeway: Did I say that out loud?
Torres: Harry and Seven, sitting in a tree....
Kim: Shut up!
Torres: Here are her personal logs.
Kim: Gimme! Because only I know the Borg language.
Torres: What about universal translators?
Chakotay: The B'omar have increased their suckiness by 36%.
Janeway: Meh.
Chakotay: Doc says once a Borg, always a Borg.
Janeway: Not. We'll just have Doc come up with some miracle cure.
Chakotay: What if he can't do it?
Everyone: Ha ha ha ha ha!
Janeway: Who want's to go on a crazy mission?
Tuvok and Paris: We do!
Janeway: Don't get blowed up. We can always get another Borg.
Seven: La la la, flying through space, la la--whoa.
Borg Collective: Get assimilated.
B'omar: Prepare to die.
Seven: Likewise.
Tuvok: I will now engage Seven in a battle of wills.
Paris: Yeah, right.
Seven: Hi.
Tuvok: Boo. I mean, take that.
Seven: No. Goodnight.
Paris's Shuttle: Ow!
Seven: I am Borg.
Tuvok: You mean, "We are Borg."
Seven: Right. Anyway, once I'm back, you can take this shuttle and shove it.
Tuvok: You're crazy.
Seven: Silence, Species 3259. Whoa. Scary.
Tuvok: Come to Unkie Tuvok.
Seven: Yeah, right.
Kim: Here's Seven's logs.
Janeway: Let's see...fear, Borg and a big black bird. Useless.
Kim: What about symbolism and hidden meanings?
Janeway: I guess we could make something up.
Seven: Now, down to the planet for assimilation.
Tuvok: Take me, I wanna go.
Seven: Okay.
Voyager: Tom, we've detected a thousand B'omar vessels closing on you.
Paris: I'll just sit here and scan then.
Seven: Spooky.
Tuvok: Yep.
Seven: It's always nice to come home. There's where I had my birthday party. There's where Daddy studied Borg. There's where I was assimilated.
Tuvok: Look, the Borg have been paging you for years.
B'omar ship: Zap!
Tuvok: Run!
Kim: They suck.
Tuvok: We're trapped.
Seven: This sucks.
Janeway: You suck.
Gauren: You suck.
Seven: Look, my old ship is being destroyed. How symbolic is that?
Tuvok: Not very.
Seven: That sucked. Have you ever had disturbing visions?
Janeway: Yes. It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent blast of plasma lightning which destroyed my research (for it is on New Earth that our scene lies), vaporizing the monkeys, and fiercely agitating the scanty dress of Chakotay that struggled against the impending lewdness.
Seven: Sickbay, medical emergency. I'm going to be sick.
(Voyager blasts off at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END
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