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. . . since Klingons seem to be mentioned the greatest number of times . . .
SCENE: The Media Play store. A slightly wonky-looking humanoid approaches the Customer Service/Returns Desk.
HUMAN: I'd like to return this CD, please.
KLINGON RANTA: What?! You besmirch the honour of this establishment!! I challenge you to a duel! To the DEATH!
HUMAN: Um, no thanks, I'd just like a credit for this CD.
RANTA: (Grudgingly) Very well. My employer has no honour. Do you have your receipt?
HUMAN: Uuuumm . . . let me see (begins searching his pockets)
RANTA: Miscreant! Criminal! Thief! (sneaks axe from beneath counter) Liar! Felon! (Swings the axe at the human's exposed neck)
HUMAN: Here it is! (The axe stops 1.5 inches from his carotid. RANTA snatches the receipt.)
RANTA: (grudgingly) Your worthless slip of paper does in fact meet the dishonourable and unexciting requirements of this non-virile establishment. What is the damage to the article?
HUMAN: Um, I don't remember. You'll have to play it.
RANTA: IMBECILE!! I shall exact my revenge after working hours! (slips CD into player)
The sounds of Zamfir rise.
RANTA: Aaaaaaiiiiiieeeeee!!! (Crouches, glassey-eyed and quivering; the human slips behind the counter and puts his hands on the store system)
HUMAN: This is a stick-up! Gimme all the money in your register, or I turn the volume up.
RANTA: Mercy, mercy!
HUMAN: Give me the money N0W, or I'll put on . . . Kenny G!!
RANTA: No! You inhuman monster!! Aaaaaaaiiiiiieee . . . . !!
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