Picard: A Short Boxed on a Potsie coif? That's how you raise your son?
Kyle: Hey, I taught him all the great Lip Rugs: The Wild West. The Gunslinger. The Beardstache. The Horseshoe Mustache with Soul Patch. Hell, even the Corporate Beard! I even moved us to Alaska! Not my fault he went Gay Sailor.
Picard: I mean, I could accept perhaps a Norse Skipper, or even a Thor! But this GI Joe Nut Duster undermines our missions. Aliens never take us seriously - their manometers don't even register a blip!
Kyle: The Dutch... The Old Dutch... The Ancient Dutch... The Wolverine....
Picard: Didn't he watch superhero movies as a child?
Kyle: Nothing but! Do you know that for his 16th birthday I even sent him to barber camp, where they were certified in every comic hero Dirt Squirrel from The Tony to The Uncle Sam! I mean, there was this one Bolian kid there who could give you The Gordon or even The Stan without even breaking a sweat! Mott, I believe his name was.
Picard: That is incredible! I wonder if that's the same award-winning exo-beardologist I appointed as the Enterprise's barber! You know, I've always fancied a Crustache myself. Perhaps a Nick Fury - or even The Stan.
Kyle: Really? You seem more like a The Strange to me. So tell me Captain, why is it you never grew a Tea Strainer?
Picard: Oh, because I'm into grandmothers.
Kyle: Me too! But the boy wouldn't hear of 'em!
Picard: Kids, am I right?!
Riker: Can me and
El Womb Broom go now?
Kyle: I mean, listen to that. Simmer down, Village People Cosplay!