Paris: ....and that's what hippies were.|
Miral: Wow. And what were mimes?
Paris: Another of history's great mistakes. Once upon a--
Torres: Er, honey? There's a huge crowd of hippies in the street.
Paris: AAAAA! Run for your lives before the mimes get here!
Barclay: Let's see: you stole classified information, mass-produced illegal technology, and founded a cult of holographic hippie-ism. The evidence suggests that you're a jerk.
Doc: That's circumstantial evidence -- and besides, a guy who shares his initials with Robert Beltran has a lot of nerve calling others jerks.
Zimmerman: Since when has Reg had nerve? Why, just yesterday I heard him singing "If I Only Had the Nerve" in the shower.
Barclay: Hey, quiet.
Zimmerman: Yeah, it's sad, believe me, missy, when you're born to be a sissy....
Tuvok: (over the comm) Having a good time at the Academy, which you somehow entered in far less time than such brilliant prodigies as Wesley Crusher?
Icheb: You bet. And I've made lots of friends.
Fromme: Hey Icheb, you suck like vacuum!
Icheb: See? They're always talking to me.
Torres: I didn't get the job! WAAAAA!
Paris: Life is vicious and unfair! WAAAAA!
Miral: My parents are a psychiatrist's dream! WAAAAA!
Doc: Greetings, brethren. Allow me to preach to you, bringing back hideous memories of "Spirit Folk."
Zimmerman: Hmm...so Doc's a monk now. Monks live celibate lives. The message is that I, who resemble Doc, get so many women that he's left with no choice but bachelorhood. See, Reg? A good egotist can find something self-aggrandizing in any situation.
Barclay: If there's one thing you've taught me, sir, it's that.
Paris: Not that I've stopped hating you or anything, but could you bail B'Elanna out?
Admiral Paris: (over the comm) Probably, but I won't. You, on the other hand, should teach at Starfleet Academy.
Paris: But I'm a disgraced officer!
Admiral Paris: Who better to teach Mutiny 201?
Tuvok: Hi. I'm here to act all stodgy as if I haven't learned anything about you in the last eight years, and T'Pel is here to apparently understand you better than I do.
Paris: Make yourselves comfortable. There should be room on the couch over there.
Miral: My couch! MY COUCH!
Paris: Er...sorry, that's her couch. She claims things.
Fromme: You Borg should all be shredded into gravelly biomatter and fed to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. Amazing how a flaming bigot like me got into the Academy, isn't it?
Icheb: I was about to say. The admission standards must really be slipping....
Superindent: (over the comm) Hey, don't knock the manpower shortage! Without it, you two would be working at Burger Kirk.
Zimmerman: Behold my latest EMH design, conveniently released during Doc's protests.
Barclay: HEY! Why does it look like me?
Zimmerman: We got some complaints from officers who felt themselves upstaged by the dashing good looks of the Mark Ones. This new version will eliminate that problem.
Torres: I got my degree!
Paris: That was fast. So what's the plan now?
Torres: I dunno. Maybe I'll go back to some of my old hobbies, like pounding your skull in.
Paris: I think I'll go accept that teaching job.
Fromme: Mmmm, illegal drugs. Hey! What are you doing here?
Officer: FREEZE! This is a raid! Hand over the drugs, being sure to give Icheb enough time to use his nanoprobes to get you off the hook!
Officer: Thanks. I'll be taking these for fruitless analysis now.
Jessip: Wow, you saved us! Perhaps we misjudged you.
Fromme: Yes, perhaps we did.
Icheb: Dammit! Why do you keep cutting me off?
Jessip: We're helping. Trust us, these important events in your Academy life go more smoothly for everybody when you keep your mouth shut.
Doc: I have to hide from my fanatical followers! Being worshipped disturbs me.
Paris: That's terrible continuity with "Virtuoso."
Doc: I'll make up for it by getting stage fright, which is good continuity with "Virtuoso."
Paris: There's no such thing as good continuity with "Virtuoso."
Doc: Blah, blah, blah. Holograms, rights, you get the idea. In summary, vote for me.
Everybody: BRAVO! ENCORE!
Doc: Rats...I don't have an encore ready. I'll have to just give the speech again.
Paris: Thanks for watching Miral. Still hate you, though. Did she give you any trouble?
Admiral Paris: Not much....
Miral: My office! MY OFFICE!
Admiral Paris: ....but we'll have to finish this conversation outside. She insists on quiet in her office.
T'Pel: And now, some concluding thoughts from two Vulcans and a baby.
Tuvok: The moral of Doc's subplot: Times may change, but hippies will always be hip.
T'Pel: The moral of Icheb's subplot: It's okay to be racist scum as long as your roommate isn't.
Miral: The moral of Mommy's subplot: If you're in an angsty rut, just wait a day or two and a deus ex machina will present itself.
Tuvok: Well, that's all for tonight's show. Thanks for watching.
Viewers: We only watched because you promised us money. Where is it?
Miral: My money! MY MONEY!
Tuvok: I believe that answers your question.
(The fourth wall crumbles at Ludicrous Speed)