*Beeping of alert signal*
[Ensign:]
Captain, the transporter's ready
[Captain]
That's hip. Lieutenant Marvin, what is the condition
Of the planets surface?
[Marvin:]
It is difficult to be precise. However, my instruments
Indicate a condition of extreme rigor mortis, spreading rapidly
Throughout the population. Highly illogical, Captain
[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!