-: Oh, it's adorable!
What is it?
-: It's a tribble.
(upbeat music)
Tribbles are not dangerous.
-: Just incredibly prolific.
How do they...
-: I, uh, I haven't figured that out yet.
(whimsical music)
-: Can I interest you in a harmless little tribble?
-: Get it away from me.
-: The nearest thing that I can figure out
is that they're born pregnant,
which seems to be quite a time-saver.
-: They are consuming our supplies
and returning nothing.
-: Aye, they're into the machinery, all right.
-: Oh, but they do give us something, Mr. Spock.
They give us love.
-: Too much of anything, Lieutenant,
even love, isn't necessarily a good thing.
(tribbles squeak)
(soft music)
(tribbles chirping)