Risa

What the hell did you just frikkin’ say about me, you little chimp? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class at Starfleet Academy, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on the Borg, and I have over 300 confirmed executions of General Order 24. I am trained in ship-to-ship warfare and I’m the top tactical officer in all of Starfleet. You are nothing to me but just another redshirt. I will wipe you the hell out with attack patterns the likes of which has never been seen before in this quadrant, mark my goddamn words. You think you can get away with saying that stuff to me over subspace? Think again. As we speak I am contacting section 31 and your subspace signature is being traced right now so you better prepare for the ion storm, maggot. The ion storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re goddamn dead, ensign. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with self-sealing stem bolts. Not only am I extensively trained in zero-G combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of Starfleet and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable existence off the face of the galaxy, you little chimp. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your goddamn tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will blast fury all over you and you will drown in it. You are dead, ensign. Dismissed