CS: Starboy to command.
GF: Fatman here.
CS: Sir I've encountered a large asteroid on your flightpath.
GF: Good, I was getting hungry.
CS: It's largely silicate sir.
GF: You insubordinate cur, I was passing stones long before you were born.
CS: I was thinking about your health, sir.
GF: Listen lickspittle, I've got to show off my new look to Admiral Hotpants. The bastard thinks he's going to win the next catwalk medal. I cannot allow that.
CS: We all support you sir, but the asteroid?
GF: Very well, what's the forecast?
CS: Looming chance of showers.
GF: That will wreak havoc with laundry, I suppose I'll need to machine dry.
CS: Very good sir.
GF: Get back here, it's almost dinner time.
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