KATHRYN: Good evening, Nick. You look dashing.
NARRATOR: "Evening" is an arbitrary term when you're not on a planetary surface.
NICK: Yeah, um... the Doc, she said I should wear somethin' dressy, somethin' that doesn't say "grunt" on the collar.
NARRATOR: Such arbitrariness is common among socially-oriented sophonts with a pronounced diurnal cycle.
KATHRYN: She has good taste.
NICK: There's no place for pips. I'm goin' out in public like a civilian.
KATHRYN: Oooh, like you're under cover. Now let's go! I've picked a sweet little restaurant in the Green Wedge.
NARRATOR: Without it, nobody knows when to get together for shared meals. Loneliness and starvation follow.
NARRATOR: On a less arbitrary note: in 394 hours Thurl will be interrupting everything.
KATHRYN: Now, then... tell me all about yourself, Nick.
NICK: Umm... I don't know what I should say.
KATHRYN: Strong and silent only gets you so far, big guy. I'm taking us there the long way. You start to fill in the silence.
NARRATOR: Meanwhile, observing...
LEGS: Oh, yeah, this girl is good.
But we're watching, and she can't shut us off.
NARRATOR: Fifteen minutes of "the long way" later...
NICK: 'So then the Sarge shoots the grenade out of the air with his plasma cannon. You should've seen the looks on their faces...
KATHRYN: You ought to be bringing cameras with you on your adventures, Nick. It would be fun to see what's going on.
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LEGS: Yes! Yes it would!
SFX: FKSSSH!