I don't know. I really, really don't know.
And, because I just know somebody will point it out, yes, I know that you can't actually do that with replicators.
Light reined down from the ceiling, idly jabbing its refulgent fingers into Captain Kathryn Janeway's eyes, prodding the reluctant woman from splendid slumber. The moment her lids peeled back from the bloodshot masses of visual organ, however, her skull promptly split in half, and her brain leapt out of the freshly cleaved bone onto the desk in front of her, where it flopped cheerily like a sea bass sans sea.
Or, at least she certainly thought that's what it felt like.
Slowly, as her vision came into what almost, but not quite, resembled focus, she noticed three large bottles of clear liquor. Then, a few moments later, after much ponderous gazing, she noticed that the liquor was, in fact, not clear, but rather nonexistent. The bottles appeared to be curiously empty.
As she stared at them, feeling the contents of her stomach simmering in her esophagus, she thought she might have overdone it. Sitting with her head in the bottom drawer of her desk, gasping for air and praying for a breath mint, she knew she had overdone it. Then, as she was drawn from her chair by a distinct grumbling coming from the other side of the room, she knew she had overdone it.
Sitting, or rather crammed, in the replicator was, against all odds, a very large, very angry, very live bear. It was lodged sideways, its drooling snout resting on its right hind leg, its front paws slashing violently through the air, the hideously sharp claws begging for stray flesh.
Janeway turned around, counted to eight, and hoped to whatever deity reigned above that she was simply hallucinating.
Janeway was utterly disappointed.
"Oh my god," she thought. "I replicated a bear!"
In a fit of terror, she clapped both hands over her mouth and fled from the room onto the bridge, where she began to gesticulate wildly and squeal at the top of her lungs.
Harry Kim, upon witnessing the captain's obvious distress, thought it would make the perfect opportunity to gain that promotion he had been vying for, and rushed into the ready room, only to rush back out squealing even louder and gesticulating more frantically than Janeway.
"A bear!" he screeched.
The enormous, terrifying howl that reverberated from Janeway's ready room precisely two and a half seconds later was testament to his words. Precisely three seconds later, the bridge descended into chaos, with the Captain barking orders to fetch a phaser over Harry Kim's sobs and Tom Paris's feeble attempts to dislodge the young Asian man from around his waist.
"WAIT!" boomed Chakotay, "You guys, I've got this under control."
For one solitary moment, chaos stopped and all of the bridge was still as one collective eyebrow was raised. Then, as Chakotay stood from his command chair and ripped his shirt off, exposing the vast expanse of hairy, sweaty flesh and celluloid, they collectively screamed in terror.
"Don't! Put it back on! For the love of God, PUT IT BACK ON!"
"No, Kathryn. I have to do this." he said as his massive hands slid down his bare gut and undid his pants.
Janeway retched, somewhat thankful that the contents of her stomach in its entirety had been violently expelled earlier. Unfortunately, the rest of the crew was not so lucky.
"Y-you wear a loin cloth under that?" asked Harry Kim, "…OH MY GOD! That's no loin cloth!"
Everybody was too caught up in the forceful expulsion of their intestines to notice Chakotay as he trudged purposefully into the ready room, chanting and whistling and spewing holistic Indian chi. It was some time before he came out, and by that time most everyone had regained consciousness and Tom Paris was sitting safely alone.
All were astonished as the bear followed Chakotay, walking slowly behind him, docile and oddly sedate.
"How the hell…" Janeway muttered in disbelief.
Chakotay grinned, "It is all in my faith, my dear naive white woman."
Janeway bit back the glare, but at that moment, the bear reached out with one massive paw and grasped the stick, previously hidden in the folds of back bacon, that had been lodged in Chakotay's ass crack and began to hungrily lick the peanut butter from it.