Neelix: Mr. Tuvok, I'm so glad to see you! I've been working on a dee-light-ful Talarian boar egg stew; easy on the Angulian sea salt, and with just a hint of Loridian clove spice. I'm sure you'll find it enchanting.
Tuvok: It is impossible to enchant a Vulcan.
Neelix: Ah, yes, my pointy-eared friend, but as morale officer of this ship, you know I'll try until I'm pink in the face!
Tuvok: Please, refrain from physically touching me.
Neelix: Then what can I get for you, my good man?
Tuvok: Plain Vulcan grain porridge.
Neelix: Oh, how boring! Perhaps I might interest you in trying it with a smidge of this delicious Jozalian sour cream topping?
Tuvok: I have a mild dairy intolerance.
Neelix: Oh, please! Just TRY it!
Tuvok: Perhaps I may, if you will desist immediately in slapping and fondling my shoulder.
Neelix: Just taste it!
Tuvok: I must admit it is somewhat palatable. What is the recipe?
Neelix: Oh, Tuvok! I never use a recipe! And I never measure: I throw in a little of this, a bit of that. A dollop of yogurt, a pinch of chives, some fermented Jozalian mare's milk...
Tuvok: How much mare's milk, exactly?
Neelix: (hesitating) Well...I always squirt in exactly two whole mouthfuls.
Tuvok: That is a violation of Starfleet dietary regulations.
Neelix: Oh, I strain out any of my whisker hairs! You and your regulations!
Tuvok: I will now run a tricorder scan on this tray of leftover meat loaf. It did not appear to be meat loaf when I ate it last night.
Neelix: Now, THAT recipe I got straight from the ship's computer!
Tuvok: You are correct. My scan indicates the exact signature of a recipe developed by a Commander Data, who currently serves on another Starship. It is called Feline Nutritional Supplement Number 25.
Neelix: Oh, Mr. Tuvok!
Tuvok: I am leaving.
Neelix: Wait! Wait!
Tuvok: What is it, Neelix?
Neelix: (lowered voice) Mr. Tuvok, can I confide in you to keep a secret?
Tuvok: We Vulcans are capable of unusual restraint. However, this restraint will be tested if you continue to knead and rub my arm, and engage in other acts of unwelcome, overly-familiar comraderie.
Neelix: A wedgie, Mr. Tuvok! I got one!
Tuvok: Please explain.
Neelix: We Talaxians don't have what you call...cracks down there.
Tuvok: I believe you are referring to cleavage of the posterior glutemus area.
Neelix: Yes, yes, There's nothing down there, except...Well, see these spots and downy hair around my head? The area of my buttocks is ringed with...
Tuvok: I will remind you that this is an environment of food consumption. Please refrain from detailed descriptions.
Neelix: All right, let me get to the point. I was half asleep this morning, and thought I was dreaming. When suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard voices! Then I felt an invisible hand pulling my tunic--trying to give me one of those wedgies the whole ship is talking about.
Tuvok: Are you sure it wasn't Kes?
Neelix: (offended) Kes and I do not sleep together!
Tuvok: I see.
Neelix: (giggling) And I know her hand when I feel it, if you know what I mean!
Tuvok: Please stop jabbing me with your elbow. I will log the report of your wedgie later.
Neelix: Thank you, Mr. Tuvok!
Tuvok: Neelix, what is this dark brown, paste-like muck spread on my toast?
Neelix: Oh, that! My Grodian game bird chopped liver spread; very rare, and only from one species of fowl, found on Groda Two...Uh, I think.
Tuvok: What do you mean you think?
Neelix: Uh, well, I found an unmarked jar in the pantry.
Tuvok: This tricorder scan shows it is a lithium-based, oxygenated grease with high levels of sulfur.
Neelix: Yes, now I remember, I found that around the time the Kazons were aboard for that summit meeting.
Tuvok: My scan concludes that it is a jar of industrial-grade alien ornamental pomade. And, the stardate on the label shows it is expired, and quite rancid.
Neelix: (dejected) Yes, it's Kazon hair grease. And the freshness button WAS popped on it when I got it.
Tuvok: The captain will hear about this
Janeway: The captain will hear about what?
Tuvok: We will discuss it later.
Janeway: Good. I need you now in engineering...Big fella.
Tuvok: Captain. As my superior officer, it is inappropriate for you to press your palms on my pectoral region.
Janeway: (smiling suavely) We'll discuss THAT in the turbolift
Neelix: He doesn't let me touch him either, Captain!