From: mlandaue@ux4.cso.uiuc.edu (Michael C Landauer)
Subject: Re: none
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Sat, 26 Dec 1992 06:10:09 GMT


[small portion deleted, as this is getting too long]

Wesley:  Hey! I programmed Wanda's Whips---you know, just the way you like it?
Troi:  Geordie, your Star Fleet Battles training is showing.   I also sense
       great perversions....
"Oh, boy..."
Troi:  I sense a great mind.  A mind from the past.  Someone who as lived many
       lives, leaping from one to another....I also sense cigar smoke...
"I sense a small explosive that is tuned to detonate the next time Troi says '
I sense...'"  (Cheers are heard from the audience)
Troi:  I sense great stupidity.

   [We hear squealing sounds of a dying bomb---the bad joke killed it]

Piccard: Computer start self-destruct sequence.  This has gone too far!
Riker: NO the first officer does not concuur, I have taken orders from some
balding shakspearian throwback long enough, I'm taking over; worf set phasers
on kill and terminate the captain.

"Admiral McCoy": Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a commedian!  I don't know
                 WHAT to say next..."

[The admiral bursts into flames due to Worf's horribly inaccurate shooting]
Worf: "Oops..."
Piccard:  Worf, belay Riker's order.  Computer cancel self-destruct.
          We'll let this insanity continue.  Worf escort this Bart
          Simpson to sick bay, and have Dr. Crusher examine his head.
          Dr. Crusher when you're done examining Mr. Simpson please
          report to my quarters so I can give you an "examination" of my
          own.

 HOMER:  DOH!!!

Kirk: "That does it I am sick of this constant bickering from you Next
Generation Pukes.  You have Picard who hasn't destroyed an enemy ship 
in the entire series, Riker who has a bigger libido than I do, Worf
who couldn't hit the broad side of a barnyard with phasers locked on,
Wesley the wonder dweeb, Data who still can't find a *real* hair style,
and Troi, well what more need I say.  Sulu, lock on phasers and blow
that giant duck-looking thing out of the stars, Uhura, show a little more
leg, Rand come down here and sit on my lap, and Checkov.. Warp 6, thataway...


Troi:  I sense terrible overacting.  Oh, the pain!  Oh, what lousy acting!

Piccard:  Worf, fire torpedos, full spread, on that tired old Enterprise
	  with that lame ass Captain Kirk.  Beverly, when are you coming
          to my quarters?

Kirk: Ha that won't work you son of a motherless goat.  Your mother was
a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!!!  Mr. Scott already planned
for your assault and beefed up owr shields buy 500,000 percent.  Now go away
or I shall taunt you a second time, your brainless wiper of other people's 
bottoms....

Piccard:  Lock on tractor beam... hold that worthless piece of shit.


-- 
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|  Cluelessness...   |  It's LOG...fun for  |  Mike Landauer              |
|  try it!           |  girls and boys!     |  mlandaue@ux4.cso.uiuc.edu  |
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Xref: sparky alt.startrek.creative:2884 rec.arts.startrek.misc:13067