Malon: Ahhhhh! Look out, the toy ship is blowing up!
Fesek: Oh yes, ha ha...Ahhhh! Look out, the real ship is blowing up!
Tuvok: Control that temper, girlfriend.
Torres: Bite me.
Janeway: Your ship went that way. How do we stop it?
Fesek: Run away! Run away! She's gonna blooooowww!
Janeway: Then there's only one answer: ramming speed! Today is a good day to -- sorry, flashback to "The Killing Game" there.
Fesek: So, you're really as nutso as they say you are.
Janeway: Hey, my way or the highway. That means you, bub.
Chakotay: You've just volunteered for the away team.
Torres: Bite me.
Chakotay: Play nice with the Malon.
Torres: Bite me.
Chakotay: Don't make me send you to your room.
Torres: (mumble) Bite me.
Chakotay: I can't hear you!
Torres: Okay.
Torres: Boy, this place sucks. Don't you ever clean up?
Fesek: We just had the maid in. She's not very good.
Torres: Hmf. Well, let's get this done before I say "bite me" again.
Neelix: There's plot complication gas in here. We can't use our tricorders.
Torres: In that case, I'll do the rest of the show in my singlet.
Paris: (over the comm) Yowza!
Fesek: I'm not all bad. I'm a sculptor and I've got a kid.
Torres: Bet it's bad sculpture and he's a bad kid.
Fesek: Bite me.
Torres: Hey! My line!
Pelk: Waaaahh! Boogieman! Boogieman!
Fesek: There isn't a boogieman!
Pelk: Is!
Fesek: Isn't!
Pelk: Is! (He dies)
Fesek: Isn't! I win.
Chakotay: Okay, let's get to the bridge before I start saying "bite me."
Torres: Yuck, blisters.
Fesek: It'll kill you. Let's get you to the infirmary.
Torres: Bite me.
Chakotay: (sighs) Remember, Tuvok and his lamp are waiting.
Torres: I'll go.
Torres: This is an infirmary? Only if death is an infirmity.
(Fesek lifts large gunlike object)
Torres: Yow! What's that?
Fesek: It's a needle.
Torres: Boy, you guys are tough!
Tuvok: Do you have the calculations for the Captain's Plan B?
Seven: Yes, and my Plan C, shield modifications.
Tuvok: Do you have a Plan D?
Seven: Yes. Have the Doctor declare the Captain nutso, assume control of the ship, assimilate Tattoo Boy, rebuild the transwarp drive my way, and get to the Alpha Quadrant next Thursday.
Tuvok: I think we'll stick with Plan B. (He leaves)
Seven: (pouting) I don't care. Tattoo Boy shall be mine, no matter what J/Cers say. Mine! All mine!
Neelix: We've managed to clear twelve decks.
Janeway: (over the comm) Leola root stew again?
Torres: The airlocks are open! We're depressurizing!
Chakotay: You go up here first. I'll wait until some debris flies in and -- ugh!
Torres: Cough cough.
Neelix: Cough cough.
Fesek: Cough. Um. Cough.
Torres: (to Voyager) Did you get Chakotay?
Doctor: (over the comm) Yes.
Torres: Rats.
Vihaar: Don't mind me, just a boogieman lurking in the background. For now.
Torres: You messed up!
Fesek: You messed up!
Neelix: Chill out, you two, or I'll say "bite me"!
Torres: Whoa, okay.
Tuvok: Should I go over and take control of the away team?
Janeway: No, Torres can handle it.
Tuvok: Logic dictates she's crazier than a bowl of Talaxian cootie soup.
Janeway: What have you got against crazy women? (twitch, twitch)
Tuvok: Plan D's starting to look good.
Doctor: You're better. Sort of.
Chakotay: What about Pelk?
Doctor: He wasn't killed by the boogieman. Here's the computer analysis.
Chakotay: It says he was killed by the boogieman.
Doctor: Damn. It's after my job, I know it.
Chakotay: Seven, scan for a lifeform that glows in the dark.
Seven: (over the comm) Hot for Plan D, big boy?
Chakotay: Not for another two years.
Seven: Rats.
Torres: Power's up! Seal the tanks!
Seal: Ark! Ark!
Fesek: Power's down!
Seal: (silent)
Janeway: Crash the ship into that star.
Paris: Aye aye, Captain.
Janeway: Not us, fool! Boy, you really need a slap up the head sometimes.
Seven: (over the comm) There's something coming your way and it's wearing John Travolta's disco suit. Oh, sorry, that's actually heavy radiation.
Neelix: Help meeeeee!
Torres: The boogieman! He's behind you!
Fesek: I'm not falling for that old...UH!
Torres: Oh my God, you're a...you're a....
Vihaar: That's right: a union delegate for the National Coalition of Core Labourers.
Torres: Get away from the controls!
Vihaar: Bite meeeeee!
Torres: You asked for it! Take that! And that! And that and that and that!
Vihaar: Ahh! I die! Bite meeeee!
(BOOM)
Kim: Oh my God! I didn't get them! They're all dead!
Janeway: My dear comrades, I shall miss--
Kim: Just kidding.
Janeway: And you wonder why you're still an ensign?
Fesek: Well, I guess I'd better get home, get another ship, and pollute some more of the galaxy.
Torres: Get real, buddy. Pollution's bad, okay? Theta radiation's bad, okay? And stupid, stupid's bad, okay?
Chakotay: At least you don't say "bite me" anymore.
Torres: I'm too tired and icky and covered in Malon yuck. I'll get back to you.
(Voyager blasts off at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END
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