You have been told not to do that. Why can’t you understand? It will arouse their suspicion. And if that happens, we will have to punish you. We will, I promise you!
“You took my last chip. The least you can do is smile.”
“Smiling would break his concentration.”
He doesn’t have a brother. He’s an only child.
“Not the apple story again!”
“That story is generally considered to be apocryphal.”
“What?! How DARE you!”
“Romulan ale should be illegal.”
“It is.”
Note to the galley: Romulan ale no longer to be served at diplomatic functions.
I am pleasantly surprised at your capacity for deductive reasoning, Captain. When you are not being bellicose, there appears to be no end to your arsenal of formidable talents.
“It should be *more *illegal.”
“Let me guess: Klingon bloodwine.”
“Prune juice. Chilled!”
“PRUNE JUICE?! Haha… iiiif you say so.”
Yellow alert.
“Why?”
“Why? Why, to give you a taste of your future. A preview of things to come. Con permiso, Capitan. The hall is rented, the orchestra engaged. It’s now time to see if you can dance.”
On screen
You can do that?
“You use more profanity than any Starfleet officer I have ever encountered.”
“I’m an officer. I’m just not a gentleman.”
“Is this your crew, Captain?”
“Well, no, Captain. This is me cargo.”
Laddie, don’t you think you should…rephrase that?
I believe you will also de-evolve into an earlier form of primate - possibly similar to a lemur or pygmy-marmoset.
KIRK: Would you prefer to do nothing?
McCOY: I’d prefer a dose of common sense. You are proposing to head backwards in time, find humpback whales, then bring them forward in time, drop them off, and hope to hell they tell this Probe what to do with itself!
KIRK: That’s the general idea.
McCOY: That’s crazy!
KIRK: You have a better idea, now’s the time.
I’ve heard Klingon belly laughs that would curl your hair.
Space! The final frontier…
Dream not of today.