JanJans Blog

Scene 7:

Picard, Riker, Data, Troi. Wesley. LaForge. Dr. Crusher, Worf, one Romulan extra.

Dr. Crusher:
Ladies and gentlemen. The next contest is between Lt. Worf, the Klingon petaQ, and a nameless Romulan extra.

Wesley:
Blood Wine! Romulan Ale! Aldebaran-Whisky! Raktajino! Get it while it's hot! Plum juice, only half a strip of latinum! Saurian Brandy!

Troi:
I do feel, Captain, that any group of Federation officers like ours must reflect such a divergence of interests within its power-base.

Riker:
Agreed. Captain?

Picard:
Yes. I think Troi's point of view is very valid, Number One, provided the Federation never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every man...

Data:
...or woman...

Picard:
...or woman... to rid himself...

Data:
...or herself...

Picard:
...or herself.

Riker:
Agreed.

Picard:
Thank you, Will.

Data:
Or Wilma.

Picard:
Or Wilma. Where was I?

Riker:
I think you'd finished.

Picard:
Oh. Right.

Riker:
Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man...

Data:
...or woman...

Riker:
Why don't you shut up about women, Data. You're putting us off.

Data:
Women have a perfect right to play a part in the Federation, Commander.

Picard:
Why are you always on about women, Mr. Data?

Data:
I want to be one.

Riker:
What?!

Data:
I want to be a woman. From now on, I want you all to call me Mrs. Data.

Riker:
What?!

Mrs. Data:
It's my right as an android.

Troi:
Well, why do you want to be Mrs. Data, Data?

Mrs. Data:
I want to have babies.

Riker:
You want to have babies?

Mrs. Data:
It's every android's right to have babies if he wants them.

Riker:
But... you can't have babies.

Mrs. Data:
Don't you oppress me, Commander.

Riker:
I'm not oppressing you, Data. You haven't got a womb! Where's the foetus going to gestate?! You going to keep it in a box?!

Mrs. Data:
(Starts to cry.)

Troi:
Here! I've got an idea. Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the Romulans', but that he can have the right to have babies.

Picard:
Good idea, Deanna. We shall fight the Romulans for your right to have babies, Mr. Data. Mrs. Data. Sorry.

Riker:
What's the point?

Picard:
What?

Riker:
What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies when he can't have babies?

Picard:
It is symbolic of our struggle against intolerance.

Riker:
Symbolic of his struggle against reality.

(Trumpets, clapping.)

Dr. Crusher:
Get out there.

Romulan Extra:
It's, um...

Dr. Crusher:
Get out there.

Romulan Extra:
It's dangerous out there. Ah ah. Ah! Oh.

(Clapping.)

Ooh.

Ten Forward:
Aaah. Ohh...

LaForge:
What a load of rubbish.

Wesley:
Blood Wine! Romulan Ale! Aldebaran-Whisky!

Picard:
Tea, Earl Gray, hot.

Wesley:
I haven't got any tea. Sorry. I've got Plum juice, Raktajino...

Picard:
No, no, no.

Wesley:
Romulan Ale?

Picard:
I don't want any of that Romulan rubbish.

Troi:
Why don't you sell proper food?

Wesley:
Proper food?

Riker:
Yeah, not those non-federation tit-bits.

Wesley:
Well, don't blame me. I didn't ask to sell this stuff.

Riker:
All right. Cup of Raktajino, then.

Picard:
Make it two.

Riker:
Two.

Picard:
Thanks, Number One.

Wesley:
Are you Section 31?

Riker:
Fuck off!

Wesley:
What?

Riker:
Section 31. We're United Federation of Planets officers! Section 31. Cawk.

Picard:
Wankers.

Wesley:
Can I... join your group?

Riker:
No. Piss off.

Wesley:
I didn't want to sell this stuff. It's only a job. I hate the Romulans as much as anybody.

UFP Officers:
Shhhh. Shhhh. Shhh. Shh. Shhhh.

Troi:
Are you sure?

Wesley:
Oh, dead sure. I hate the Romulans already.

Riker:
Listen. If you really wanted to join the UFP, you'd have to really hate the Romulans.

Wesley:
I do!

Riker:
Oh, yeah? How much?

Wesley:
A lot!

Riker:
Right. You're in. Listen. The only people we hate more than the Romulans are the fucking Section 31.

UFP Officers:
Yeah...

Troi:
Splitters.

UFP Officers:
Splitters.

Picard:
And Tribbles.

UFP Officers:
Yeah. Oh, yeah. Splitters. Splitters.

Mrs. Data:
And the United Federation of Planets.

UFP Officers:
Yeah. Splitters. Splitters.

Riker:
What?

Mrs. Data:
The United Federation of Planets. Splitters.

Riker:
We're the United Federation of Planets!

Mrs. Data:
Oh. I thought we were Starfleet?

Riker:
United Federation! C-huh.

Picard:
Whatever happened to Starfleet, Will?

Riker:
He's over there.

UFP Officers::
Splitter!

Worf:
(Coughing, green blood on his face.) Ooh. Ooh. I-- I think I've got a bone... stuck in my... Ooh. Ooh.

LaForge:
Absolutely dreadful, man.

Ten Forward:
(Cheers.)

Riker:
Yes, Worf! Ha ha. What's your name?

Wesley:
Wesley. Wesley Crusher.

Riker:
We may have a little job for you, Wesley.