|
After a hard day of pimpin' hustlin' and Da Makin' Of Da Space Benjaminz, the crew of Tha Enterpri$e throw a dope party. Word.
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Man, we are gonna get so paid by StarFleet! Hey Worf, pass the blunt! | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| Mha'k BluQ! I can see Uranus from here! Ha ha ha! | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Say Councellor, what do your telepathic abilities tell you about my penis? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| That it's going to be having a Han Solo tonight... | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| *Cough!*This really is excellent shit, Mr. Data. Now set course for Starbase 24-7, we're out of Rizlas | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| Uhh, Captain? I'm Geordie. Say, how about I just replicate us some more of those cheesy things...? | |
 | |  |
|
|
|