Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Scotty, Sulu.
These two are merely controlled, Captain Kirk.
I don't know what you are, but you're not a woman.
The man is dead.
Very bad poetry, captain.
It is difficult to control so many things in so little time.
Telepathy?
Jim!
and I assure you that I have full control of your friends.
Prepare impulse engines for generation of maximum heat
It excites me. I want more.
Our analysis of you may have been, in some small way, in error...
Gentlemen, my colleague, Sylvia.
Still no response, sir.
I can't get enough of your farts
- Jackson! - I'm sorry, I can't clear it, captain.
...but definitely registering. - That's where we go.
But it's there, and it's real.
...and Captain Kirk.
- You were warned to stay away. - But why?
What I want is...
- Ready, sir. - Energise.
There are unguarded entrances to any human mind.
I can't get enough of your farts
and yet you came to save your comrades.
- I don't see any change. - It's there, lieutenant.
To touch, to feel, to understand the idea of luxury.
I think they're going to release us.
- This is a new world. - You're cruel.
Dr. McCoy, Mr. Spock...
Under these conditions, fog is highly unlikely, captain.
Give me the transmuter.
- Why a cat? - Racial memories.
And not to have a knowledge of our scientific methods
- Ingenious. - Do be seated.
He said something about a transmuter.
...that's exactly what happened to Mr. Scott and his party.
You were saying something about trick-or-treat.
There's no indication of anything that would cause such interference.
How long has it been?
Spock, comment.
Both those men are well aware of landing-party procedure.
Kirk to Enterprise. Come in.
And now that we have them all together?
The temperature, sir. It keeps rising.
- Give me the transmuter. - No.
- Tests? - Yes.