Quack

McCoy watched in mild annoyance as the last batch of crewmen hurriedly left sickbay after their physicals. "The lot of the physician," he muttered, "is to be avoided at all costs until a crisis arises."

Scotty, waiting for his own examination, rolled his eyes. "It's not you they're avoiding so much as that saltshaker you wave around. It's unnerving to think a condiment dispenser can cure all that ails ya."

"You calling me a quack, Scotty?"

"Never. But you and I both know a gadget's only as good as its operator. All the fancy technology in the galaxy can't make up for years of experience."