Archer: Good morning, Malcolm.|
Reed: Good... um... er... morning... uh... sir....
Archer: Care to sit down?
Reed: Um... certainly, sir. Right after I... er... run. AAAAAAAA!
Archer: And they say he's socially awkward.
Mayweather: Here's that suspicious planet our sensors picked up.
Archer: Take us into suspicious orbit. Any life signs?
T'Pol: No, just mines.
Archer: Life mines? That doesn't make any --
T'Pol: Sense, sir?
Archer: Shut up. And leave the sensors out of this.
Reed: There's the mine we hit.
Archer: I don't see it... hey, have we passed through any thick woods lately? There's a burr on the hull.
Reed: Sir, that's --
Archer: Shhh! The way it hooks onto the hull is inspiring me... I've got it! I'll invent Velcro!
T'Pol: You have to stop living in last week, Captain.
Tucker: (over the comm) The damage is pretty bad, sir. We've already lost satellite reception on Decks 5 through 8.
Mayweather: Oh my God! I'll miss Married By America!
Archer: Trip, I just heard a compelling argument against ever fixing that problem. We'd better focus on the mine.
Reed: I can handle that, sir. Just give me an EVA suit and a false moustache.
Archer: Why the moustache?
Reed: I don't want the mine to see me coming.
T'Pol: I believe we can render the minefield visible with Mr. Daniels' De-Invisinator Cannon.
Mayweather: We kept that? Isn't that a little unsporting of us?
Archer: We're floating through the void in an unshielded dinghy, Travis -- I'd say that cancels out any cheating we do. Fire the cannon.
T'Pol: Uh oh... it's worse than I thought. There are about nine squazillion mines, and one of them is really, really big, with these two nasty rod things poking out the sides --
Archer: That's Enterprise.
T'Pol: Well, no wonder I'm detecting a bunch of idiots on board.
Reed: (over the comm) It's definitely a mine, sir.
Archer: So I hear. What are you going to do?
Reed: I have a plan, but I'll need some rocks.
Archer: This plan wouldn't happen to consist of you floating off to a safe distance and chucking rocks at the mine, would it?
Reed: I improve my target practice, I get to see a cool explosion -- everybody wins!
Archer: Not everybody, just you.
Reed: Everybody important.
Archer: We need a backup plan.
Tucker: We could always use Malcolm's if it came down to it.
Archer: No, we don't have the stones. I had this idea, though. Do you think it's possible, theoretically, for a starship to... "separate" into two pieces?
Tucker: I guess it could be done, but we're kind of all in one piece. We could probably ditch Reed's panel, though.
Archer: I approve. We'll call that Plan B.
Tucker: For "Backup"?
Archer: For "British guy dies, ha ha."
Mayweather: Uh oh -- a ship just decloaked!
Mayweather: I mean, um, de-invisinated.
Romulans: (over the comm) ZHOFRPH WR RXU PLQHILHOG! SOHDVH HQMRB BRXU VWDB!
Archer: I don't like the sound of that. Prepare to fire all weapons!
Mayweather: We're disabled. And firing all weapons is reserved for Vulcans.
Sato: Oof... why am I in Sickbay?
Phlox: You were injured, or so T'Pol said to tell you. She mostly just wanted you off the bridge.
Sato: I've got to get back up there!
Phlox: No no, better play along. She's got a sharp stick.
Mayweather: AAAAAA! They're firing!
Archer: Warning shots. It's settled: they're evil.
Romulans: (over the comm) SOHDVH HQMRB VRPH FRPSOLPHQWDUB HQHUJB, KRQRXUHG JXHVWV!
Archer: Can somebody bring their messages to Hoshi? Tell her to pick out the rude words so I can insult them back.
Reed: I'm about to start defusing the mine.
T'Pol: (over the comm) Sure you can do it?
Reed: Of course I can. I once won the Spears Medal, Starfleet's highest honour in the field of -- AAAAARRGH!
T'Pol: Of being speared by mines?
Reed: Shut up.
Archer: I'm going out there to help Malcolm. Travis, it's time for you to fly us safely through the mines like you did in Galaxy Quest.
Mayweather: That wasn't me.
Archer: Really? I would have sworn. I mean, the parallels!
T'Pol: You seem surprisingly unoffended, Ensign.
Mayweather: I'm used to it. Last week he thought I was Harry Kim.
Reed: Oh good, it's the captain. My troubles are over.
Archer: Hold still while I scan your leg.
Reed: How does it look?
Archer: Ooo... not good. You've got a spike through it.
Reed: I wish I could kick you.
Sato: Eureka! I think maybe I've almost got it.
T'Pol: Less decisive than I'd hoped... what do you have?
Sato: These aliens' language is ROT-3. It's closely related to ROT-13, the language those bumpy-headed aliens were speaking. Remember them?
Tucker: We've been ordered not to. Starfleet said something about protecting the timeline.
Sato: Oh, you're kidding me.
Tucker: No, but I could. Like this: those aliens should be speaking ROT-10! Get it? Rot-ten? ....OW!
T'Pol: And that is how the Vulcan nerve pinch is performed, Ensign Sato.
Sato: Thanks, I'll remember that.
Reed: You know, I think the pain's getting a little better.
Archer: As long as we're out here, why not tell me a little about your family history?
Reed: Pain's back.
Archer: Very good.
Tucker: Ohhh... what hit me?
T'Pol: The devastating awareness of your own inferiority. Ensign, have you made further progress?
Sato: I think they call themselves... Remans.
T'Pol: It's pronounced "Romulans."
Sato: No, I'm pretty sure it --
T'Pol: No, it isn't.
Archer: (over the comm) Romulans? You mean the censored-book guys?
T'Pol: Um... yeah. Anyway, they're evil and wrong and we should get out of here as soon as possible.
Archer: They sound like Vulcans. Heheheheh.
T'Pol: Shut up!
Reed: We're doomed.
Archer: Actually, no thanks to your pessimism, I'm almost done defusing the mine. We'll be home in time for dinner. In fact --
Mine: Error. Arming secondary detonator. No further attempts to defuse this unit will be permitted. Sucker.
Reed: I take it dinner will be cold, sir?
Archer: Maybe a little.
Romulans: (over the comm) ZH HAWHQG WR BRX WKH KDQG RI IULHQGVKLS!
T'Pol: They're back. This can't be good.
Sato: You know, I think we might just be misinterpreting them....
T'Pol: Well, whose fault would that be? And who might we consequently have to hand over for punishment to patch up the situation?
Sato: Oh, those no-good Romulans... will their insults never end?
Archer: I have an idea about this spike. We can put a chip in it that stops it from attacking -- say, are you committing suicide?
Reed: Um... no?
Archer: You just let your air out into space.
Reed: Oh, that. I'm a strong supporter of the Free the Oxygen movement... all right, fine, I was committing suicide. Who wouldn't? My best hope of survival is you!
Archer: Never fear, Malcolm -- I won't let you down. Now hold still while I open your helmet to let in some more air.
T'Pol: (over the comm) Bad news, Captain.
Archer: Hi T'Pol. Hey, did you know humans can't breathe space air?
T'Pol: Space ai-- never mind. The Romulans are back.
Archer: Well, shouldn't we be out of the minefield by now?
T'Pol: We've been delayed due to... personal issues.
Mayweather: (over the comm) I'm not flying us anywhere until Mr. Tucker stops punching me in the arm.
Tucker: (over the comm) I'll stop punching you in the arm when you get us out of the minefield!
Archer: I see what you mean, Subcommander.
Reed: What the--? Am I still not dead?
Archer: I saved you. Looks like we'll be spending even more time together.
Reed: That answers that. I'm dead, and this is hell.
Archer: I've had quite enough of your opinions. On an unrelated topic, what's your opinion of how long the mine will take to explode when triggered?
Reed: Couldn't be more than ten se-- I mean, half an hour. Plenty of time for you to escape. Yessssss.
Tucker: You're back!
Archer: No time to lose, Trip -- get that separation thing started. And bring me two shuttlepod hull plates, or at least some really heavy cardboard.
T'Pol: Sounds risky.
Archer: We can't afford to play it safe. That's why I risked coming back on the ship without going through decon.
Phlox: (over the comm) It's so cute that you still think decon actually does something.
Romulans: SHUKDSV PRUH HQHUJB ZLOO FRQYLQFH BRX ZH PHDQ QR KDUP!
Tucker: They're firing! We gotta get outta here!
Mayweather: Does this mean you'll stop hitting me?
Tucker: Heheheheheh. No.
Reed: Sir, if I'm going to die, I want it to be with a clean conscience. I have some confessions to make.
Archer: We're not going to die, but by all means spill.
Reed: To begin with, I think you're a really bad captain. And I mean a really, REALLY bad captain.
Archer: You and 90% of the galaxy. What else?
Reed: I didn't win the Spears Medal for munitions expertise, I won it for pop karaoke.
Archer: Um... geez, look at the time! We'd better skip the rest of this excess information and get on with the plan.
Reed: But what about my penance?
Archer: We'll call it time served. By me.
Tucker: Ready to detach the hull plate. Shall I aim it at the Romulans?
T'Pol: (over the comm) Wait, wait. Isn't the captain still on it?
T'Pol: Then yes.
Mine: Jon? What are you doing, Jon?
Archer: Try to calm down. I'm just slicing through your spike with a rusty hacksaw.
Mine: I'm sorry, Jon, I can't let you do that.
Archer: And why not?
Mine: Um... well... because it would be wrong to kill my spike. It has a soul.
Archer: A likely story.
Mine: Oh, you make me so mad I could just explode!
Archer: You do that. We'll be floating over there.
Mayweather: YES! We're through the minefield!
T'Pol: Congratulations, Ensign. You have beaten the odds.
Mayweather: That's not all I'm gonna beat. Just wait till I get my hands on that arm-slugging son of a blatch....
Tucker: (over the comm) Uh, T'Pol, can I take an extended leave of absence?
Captain's Starlog: And with that, no human never saw the Romulans again.
Reed: Thank you for saving my life, Captain. I've come to grudgingly respect your command style.
Archer: Well, I'm happy you've come around. Now all that's left is the small matter of decon.
Phlox: Oh, you needn't bother, sir. I'll make an exception in this case.
Archer: You're not worried we'll infect the crew with something?
Phlox: Compared to doing a scene of two men in the gel room, it's a risk I'm willing to take.
(Enterprise heads off at Ludicrous Speed)