Keene: Ah, zero-G! Nothing better for blending the mind-deadening slowness of baseball with the utter inexcitement of non-contact football.|
Ryan: A prime candidate for Earth's official pastime, if you ask me. Let's market it as "fooseball."
Nausicaans: That's taken, you idiots.
Forrest: (over the comm) In an extension of my ridiculous "space travel as swimming" analogy from the pilot, I order you upstream.
Archer: It's not that ridiculous. Triton the Inhuman compared space to an ocean in Fantastic Four #62.
Forrest: I don't c--OH MY GOD! Is that your dog?
Archer: Of course it is. Say hi to the admiral, Porthos.
Forrest: I can't believe it! After all those stories I heard....
Archer: You shouldn't listen to rumours, sir. There's been no foul play here at all. Wink, wink.
Forrest: Hey! Are you still hiding something?
Archer: Who, me? Not at all. Wink, wink.
Mayweather: So what's our mission?
Tucker: To go find you some character development already. Everybody's pretty sick of your eager beaver act.
T'Pol: Personally, I'd rather just kill you and be done with it.
Mayweather: You can't kill me -- my knowledge of cargo ships will be needed for this mission! Ha ha!
T'Pol: Obviously. If it weren't, I'd have killed you already.
Ryan: Welcome to the Fortunate. We're aware of the irony.
Archer: Thanks. This guy's Reed, I'm Johnny, that's the Thing --
Phlox: I asked you to stop calling me that!
Archer: -- and this is the Invisible Woman. Together we are...(BUM BUM BUM)...the Fantastic Four!
Shaw: Hey, that woman looks pretty visible to me....
T'Pol: It's an off-and-on thing. For example, when I give Archer advice, I'm invisible for all practical purposes.
Phlox: Your captain should be all better soon.
Ryan: What, better than me?
Phlox: At captaincy? He's already better at that, even while comatose.
Ryan: Yeah, but I'm way better at being similar to that Max guy from 'Equinox.'
Ryan: Give us the information, Nausicaan scum!
Prisoner: What's the magic word?
Ryan: Rats. Well, let's do this methodically -- Shaw, start reading out the dictionary.
Mayweather: That's our transporter. We fear and loathe it, but we needed something to put in that room.
Ryan: Wow, you Starfleet people are so high-tech. Watch me resent you.
Mayweather: Okay, but let's eat first. It's not safe to hate on a full stomach. Besides, we have a great chef.
Ryan: I collect chili recipes -- think he'll give me his?
Mayweather: You don't want to go there. Trust me.
Kid 1: Can I hide here? Thanks!
Kid 2: Hi. Do you know where Kid 1 is hiding?
T'Pol: No, your numbering system confuses me. But I do know what's really going on with the Porthos thing. Boy, have I got Archer under my thumb now....
Kid 2: I didn't ask about your office politics.
Shaw: Dz...Dzh...how do you pronounce this?
Shaw: Thanks. Is that it?
Shaw: Sigh. On to the E words....
Archer: We know what you're really up to. Start confessing.
Ryan: You win -- I'm regularly beating up a Nausicaan prisoner.
Archer: You are? That's not what--T'Pol!
T'Pol: Okay, okay, so I made up that stuff about Jimmy Hoffa and the flying puffins. But wasn't it interesting?
Archer: Here, Nausicaan prisoner! We've come to save you from your cruel oppressors!
Ryan: Actually, this isn't so much a rescue as an ambush.
Archer: Oh. Well, nothing the Fantastic Four can't handle. T'Pol, turn invisible! Reed, use your elastic powers! And could somebody light me on fire?
Phlox: Happy to, sir.
Sato: Uh oh. The Fortunate crew just ditched the away team and bolted.
Tucker: I thought I told you not to talk this week. Anyway, let's go chase them.
T'Pol: (over the comm) Sorry, you'll have to pick us up first.
Tucker: Why? You guys should still have lots of air....
T'Pol: No, we're almost out. The captain was on fire for a while and it sucked up most of our oxygen.
Prisoner: I told you, no proper nouns.
Shaw: Sorry. 'Heliacal'?
Prisoner: I think you made that up....
Shaw: 'Heliburton'? 'Helicarrier'? 'Helichr--'
Prisoner: Oh, forget it! The magic word is 'zymurgical.' Now you can shut up.
Shaw: Wow...it would have taken forever to get to that one.
Captain's Starlog: YEEEAAAAAAAGH! It burns! It burns!
Mayweather: Let's have a character-building chat about the situation.
Tucker: Get out of the way! I finally have a really good reason to deep-six Phlox, and I'm not gonna waste it!
Mayweather: I think we should be more merciful with those treacherous scumbags.
Archer: What you have to understand is that it's my duty as a human to kick the butt of anyone who breaks my moral code, regardless of good sense or consequences. Haven't you noticed?
Mayweather: Well, yeah...but if half the chili-related rumours I've heard are true, it's yourself whose butt you should be kicking.
Archer: I tried; my legs don't reach that far. HEY! Where did you hear these rumours?
Mayweather: T'Pol's been dropping hints lately....
T'Pol: (over the comm) ....and will continue to do so unless you comply with my demands.
Archer: I don't negotiate with blackmailers, you green-blooded--
T'Pol: Then I guess I have a little something to tell the crew. Attention all hands....
Archer: No! Fine, you win. What are your demands?
T'Pol: Let's discuss it over lunch. I feel like...chili.
Phlox: Now, be reasonable. The captain asked me to ignite him.
Tucker: I don't care! This time you DIE!
Phlox: Ah well. Fortunately, I took precautions.
Tucker: What precau--oh. The gigantic Hammer of Crushing over there.
Phlox: Yep. It's clobberin' time.
Ryan: And now we shall destroy the Nausicaans. Fire!
Shaw: We're doing them massive damage. Oh, wait...I misread this panel. They're doing us massive damage.
Ryan: How? We have their shield codes!
Shaw: We do? Oh crap -- I forgot to ask about that! I stopped once I got the magic word!
Ryan: I'd crush you, but I think that alien jerk stole my hammer.
Archer: Mind if we save that ship over there?
Nausicaan: (over the comm) Not a chance. We've got exclusive smashing privileges on it.
Archer: Then I'm afraid I'll have to bash you around while my pilot chats with Ryan.
Nausicaan: You won't get away with this! We'll have our revenge if we have to wait 200 years and then impale some balding cadet!
Archer: Why would you have to do that?
Nausicaan: I'm trying to anticipate all possibilities here.
Ryan: (over the comm) Give up the prisoner? I say "pfft" to you. Pfft.
Mayweather: Look, revenge isn't the answer! Take Tucker, for example. He tried to take revenge on Phlox for burning the captain, and what did he get for his troubles? A crushed nose!
Tucker: Keeb be oud of dis.
Archer: Whew...Ryan surrendered. Now we can all relax.
T'Pol: Not yet, sir. There's one more thing to be done.
Archer: Oh no. Not now....
Archer: I'm never going to live this down. (ahem) All hands, this is the captain. I, Jonathan Archer, officially declare that I am a blundering, duncelike paragon of suckitude with fewer working brain cells than a cup of fermented goat's milk. And illogic sucks. That is all.
T'Pol: Well done. Your secret is safe for now.
Archer: Mr. Fantastic never had to put up with this....
Keene: You'll be happy to know I've demoted Ryan.
Archer: Would you consider demoting yourself too? Then you'd be Commander Keene.
Keene: Stale old video-game jokes...is this where the future lies?
Archer: Pretty much. Shall we have a game of Q-Bert?
Keene: I'd prefer fooseball, but what the hey.
(Enterprise heads off at Ludicrous Speed)