NARRATOR: Out of earshot of the surviving bait (err... bystanders)
SCHLOCK: If they weren't bait, why'd we lay 'em out that way?
TAGON: So they'd be easier to guard. Now... what went wrong with that?
SCHLOCK: He was fast, and the Gavs panicked. If they'd stayed flat I would have seen him in time to shoot him, but it would have been pretty close.
TAGON: Okay, you didn't have a clear shot and moved in for hand to... well, I guess those are hands.
SCHLOCK: The word 'tentacle' gets me in almost as much trouble as the word 'bait,' sir.
TAGON: Hand to hand it is, then. Report.
SCHLOCK: Well, he was really strong. Ripped a chunk right out of me.
TAGON: I've seen you get splattered before. You're squishy.
SCHLOCK: Not when I'm flexing, but he still ripped right through the limb I was going to crush him with.
SCHLOCK: I'm just glad I didn't try to eat him. He would have torn me some new holes, and taken my plasgun with him on his way out.
TAGON: If you had to fight him again, what would you do differently?
SCHLOCK: He's ash, sir. I hosed him down with the plasgun because I don't WANT to fight him again.
TAGON: Humor me. How would you handle a rematch?
SCHLOCK: Suddenly I'm in the mood to eat those ashes.
TAGON: I need to know my enemy, Sergeant.
SCHLOCK: And I need the smoky flavor of peace of mind.