Beeping of alert signal.
Captain, the transporters ready.
Lieutenant Marvin, what is the condition of the planets surface?
It is difficult to be precise.
However, my instruments indicate a condition of extreme rigor mortis, spreading rapidly throughout the population.
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Highly illogical, Captain.
A bunch of stiffs, huh? Well, set coordinates for, ah, Chocolate City, and have a landing party of nine men beam down immiediately, with phasers set on funk-funk!
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