NARRATOR: Bristlecone, upper deck, company mess...
LIZ: What'cha doin'?
CH'VORTHQ: Bemoaning the poverty of palate to which this automated dispenser of comestibles will surely subject us.
LIZ: So I guess you wanted to do the cooking yourself?
CH'VORTHQ: Did my hat give me away, or was it the prosthetic?
LIZ: "Poverty of palate" sounded awfully "cheffy" to me.