"Totally Legitimate Business" (Kamal)Edit
Aiden: Well, I'll be damned... Kamal! Just the guy I wanted to see.
Kamal: Oh no, Aiden. Hey. What are the odds?
Aiden: Too late to get a beer?
Waitress: No, sugar, you got 15 minutes to spare.
Aiden: Okay, one for me, one for him. Whatever's good.
Kamal: I don't want a beer.
Aiden: Sure you do.
Kamal: No I don't.
Aiden: Kamal, come on! Hey, I like the way that sounds. Kamal, come on! Kamal, come on! Never mind. I hate drinking by myself. Have a beer with me. I'm buying. I'll buy you a burger too.
Aiden: That's my dark genius of the vid-stream(?).
Waitress: Two beers, coming right up.
Aiden: So, I have a friend who has this problem.
Aiden: Kamal. So how are your parents? I can help them, you know.
Kamal: I know.
Aiden: Come on, Kamal, this friend of mine is totally on the up and up.
Waitress: Your beers.
Kamal: From where?
Aiden: ...pays taxes even.
Kamal: (drinks) You drink this stuff?
Aiden: Legitimate businessman seeking dark handsome techno-guru for discreet assistance and long moonlit walks.
Kamal: I hate Earth beer.
Aiden: And like I said, this thing with your parents? That's where I come in.
Kamal: Look, the last time I tried to help you, I had half the--
Aiden: The beer gets better after a few sips, Kamal, I promise. And you know what, its all you've got.
Kamal: Why do you keep asking me? Does Sophia talk about my--
Aiden: (forcefully) Drink the beer, Kamal.
Kamal: (drinks) What kind of business?
Aiden: Welcome to the tastefully appointed security control room. The nerve center if you will, of the Apollonian Temple Casino. My name is Aiden Maki--
Mr. F: --Cut the crap, Aiden.
Aiden: ...And I'll be your in-flight host this evening.
Mr. F: You can see the guys you want on monitors 3, 11 and 16. So remind me again, why can't we break these bastards' knees, and drop them in a canal where the freaking sewer crabs eat?
Aiden: Mr. F, it just makes your business... your totally legitimate tax-paying business... look bad when college kids start turning up all dead and everything.
Aiden: Kamal is going to take care of the situation.
Kamal: I'm not doing this.
Aiden: Not doing what?
Kamal: Not doing anything involving knee caps, or canals, or...
Mr. F: Oh, this is touching
Kamal: ...decomposing bodies.
Aiden: Excuse us, Mr. F. (to Kamal) All the man wants to find out is what they're doing.
Kamal: So he can what, write his memoirs? You said this was all legal!
Aiden: I haven't asked you to do anything illegal, have I?
Kamal: Didn't you hear what he said? He was--
Aiden: --But the whole killing thing will only happen if you don't help. And even that's worst case scenario.
Mr. F: Actually, that wouldn't be the worst case. The worst case would be if we went down to--
Aiden: No-no-no-no... Just hear me out, Kamal. Mr.F shows you what they're doing, and you tell him how they're doing it.
Kamal: Okay, but no kneecaps right? No canals... just, explanations.
Mr. F: Explanations are nice.
Kamal: And if I do this I want visas. No more happy talk, I want my family on their way here and I want it now!
Aiden: Whew! You drive a hard bargain, my friend.
Kamal/Mr. F: Cut the crap, Aiden!
Aiden: Okay, from here we can monitor the whole casino floor.
Mr. F: See the blackjack tables here. There's 6 of them in each pit, and the managers rotate the dealers every 20 minutes.
Aiden: The 5 people highlighted here are counting cards.
Kamal: How do you know they're counting cards?
Mr. F: Because they win too much.
Aiden: The question is, how are they cheating?
Mr. F: They don't stay at the same table. They don't move around in any predictable pattern. We could just take them off the tables and leave them in a ditch. Why did you say we shouldn't do that again?
Aiden: But, it would really be better if they understood how they were, uh...
Mr. F: ...screwing me.
Mr. F We've got archives of all their plays in the last 10 days. Figure out how they're screwing me...
Aiden: Whaddaya say?
Mr. F: Figure it out, please...?
Kamal: I think he was talking to me.
Aiden: See this number? That's how much we figure these kids have taken out of the casino.
Mr. F: You get it back for me, 20% of its yours.
Kamal: Oh, wow...
Aiden: Trust me. If all these guys lose is their money, you'll be doing them a huge favor.
Mr. F: Trust him.
Aiden: Oh, check out table 9. Camera's looking right down her dress!
Kamal: Thanks for the ride
Sophia: No problem, Aiden gets these business emergencies sometimes.
Kamal: I'm exhausted...
Sophia: Did I see a new chatter tonight?
Kamal: Yeah, I won it in a raffle. It's fine too, makes my old one look like a payphone.
Sophia: A payphone?
Kamal: Ancient piece of crappy hardware, half of them wouldn't even take incoming calls, no GPS... never mind.
Sophia: Aiden was getting a little worried. He promised Forihoff he would figure out what those guys were doing, but he was beginning to have doubts.
Kamal: Oh, the casino, yeah. This pack of grad students from Stanford is working on private CP channels, but vocalizing through KKI Uvular implants.
Sophia: Oooo, uvular implants...
Kamal: He's not even counting the cards himself. He's got a tally running on a corneal... but... you really don't care do you...
Sophia: Uh-uh. Which do you think looks better on me? Slingbacks or Turkish flats?
Sophia: I bet Aiden a new pair of shoes that you would figure the casino thing out.
Kamal: You bet Aiden a new pair of shoes?
Sophia: Don't get indignant. I'm letting you pick the shoes.
Kamal: God, Aiden and his business. If I were him, I wouldn't give a damn about any business emergencies when I could be with you instead.
Kamal: Slingbacks! Definitely slingbacks.
Kamal: Those are the ones with buckles right?
Sophia: There was no business emergency.
Sophia: God, you are so dense sometimes.
Kamal: I don't understand.
Sophia: He had me drive you home because he knows you like that. Aiden likes to keep his people happy.
Kamal: Do the shoes make you happy? The jewelry?
Sophia: Mostly, Aiden makes me happy. As for the rest of it, I've been poor, you know. There's no glamor in waiting tables.
Sophia: What? All things being equal, life is better when you're not broke.
Kamal: I was just figuring that out.
"Big Dog" (Janissary)Edit
Bev: Hello... And welcome to Hot'n'Cold... Please, place your thumb on the transaction plate.
Jan: Hey Bev, you are looking great... Have you lost weight?
Bev: Thank you! I'm afraid I don't know the answer to your question. What beverage can I offer you?
Jan: Coffee, black, two sugars.
Bev: Gladly, Miss James
Jan: You know, I saw the candy machine across the room eyeing you again...
Bev: Thank you! Can I interest you in a snack food?
Jan: I know! And the way his 'Out of Stock' button flashes is so cute!
Bev: Thank you! My inventory is replenished Mondays and Fridays...
Jan: Well, you'll want to make your move soon sister, I hear the fire suppression system here really puts out...
Bev: Thank you!
Jan: Well you sure don't want to lose them to that slutty cash register do ya?
Bev: Thank you! I'm afraid I don't know the answer to your question. Enjoy your beverage.
Jan: Oh Bev, you kidder! How about tomorrow you buy?
Bev: Thank you! I'm afraid I don't know the answer to your question. (sits and drinks)
Paolo: Hey, uh, excuse me? Look I know this is kind of weird, but uh...
Jan: Hey, I need a guy's opinion.
Jan: Be honest with me here. You see that coffee dispenser?
Jan: Would you go out with her?
Jan: She's too heavy right?
Paolo: No, uh. I mean, uh...
Jan: Mhm... men are such pigs.
Paolo: Look, you're the girl that was at Sharfie's last week aren't you?
Jan: Never heard of it. Are we done?
Paolo: Hey! I need help! I know you're the kind of person who helps. I was there, I saw it, so, you know, don't pretend you're just like them.
Jan: (sarcastically) Maybe last week was the pretending...
Paolo: So keep pretending.
Jan: Sit down.
Paolo: Buddy of mine, Gene Lindsey, goes by the name Optical these days. We've been hanging out with these guys and, uh, Gene's in pretty deep you know, he's in um..
Jan: So, your friend wants to move up in the world.
Paolo: Well they want to let him, but first he's got to...
Jan: Finish 8th grade?
Paolo: Prove himself. He has to do something they can hold over him forever.
Jan: Ah, this'll be fun.
Gene: Pardon me, miss.
Victim: Excuse me?
Gene: You dropped something.
Victim: Hey...! What are you...?! What are you... LET GO!
Gene: Don't scream, don't make a sound.
Victim: I-I... I promise...
Jan: Hey stud! How bout some flowers first?
(victim is struggling)
Gene: Screw you.
Jan: Myself, I like a box of chocolates and a man who's not afraid to cry. You're not afraid to cry, are you? Gene?
Gene: Who the hell are you?
Victim: Please, please call the police!
Gene: Shut up!
Jan: See, there's just no chemistry here. It's time to let her go, Gene.
Gene: Look, they said I need a girl for this thing. Is this another test?
Jan: Oh it's like the bonus round, stud. Let her go, dance with me. What? Don't you like what you see?
Gene: Hm, I am at my best in the bonus round baby.
Gene: Here's your consolation prize. (lets the woman go)
Victim: (whispers) Thank you, (sobbing) Oh god!
Jan: I know, I know, it's over now. Get on home. I'll finish up with Mr.Congeniality.
Gene: That was real nice what you did for that lady. Not real smart, but nice.
Jan: I'm working on a merit badge.
Gene: (laughs) Okay sweetie. What's gonna happen here is gonna happen. So just relax.
If it makes it any easier, it's nothing personal, okay?
Jan: Nothing personal.
Gene: Just business.
Jan: I don't know. I might have to make it personal.
Gene: Your funeral. Okay, angel. Time for you to meet the big dog. (pulls a knife)
Jan: See, the problem with being a big dog, is there's always a bigger dog.
(roughage, knife clatters on the pavement)
Jan: Damn! You're going to want to put some ice on that.
Gene: Huh, you've got quick feet.
Jan: All those years of ballet. You gonna go get that knife?
Gene: You know, there's people watching you know. To make sure I do this thing. And they're gonna see everything.
Jan: I can see why you get your dates at gun point.
Gene: Just thought you should know.
Jan: Come on Gene, skip the knife... go for the M6 under your jacket.
Jan: Come on, baby... give it to me.
Jan: Oh, did I get that right? You draw the gun, I slap you around, then the face dip into the sidewalk, or... or did you want to lead?
Jan: I like to dance.
Gene: Oh, you just bought yourself a bullet in the back, bitch!
Jan: Oh, only the guy with the sniper rifle across the street has 2 broken arms...
Jan: And the girl with the ponytail, the one who was supposed to cover you from the roof?
Gene: Marty? What the hell is thi... (Jan reveals a lock of hair) her hair? You cut off her hair?!
Jan: It's just you, and me... lover.
Jan: Alright. Get up... Get. Up. Now, from the top. And remember, posture counts. There's the gun. Pick it up. Come on, big dog. Let's go again.
Gene: This time you're--
Jan: And here we are again.
Gene: Christ! (moans and pants)
Jan: Aww, the choreography is there but I’m not feeling it yet the way I want to.
Gene: Screw you!
Jan: Alright on your feet, Gene. I'm just going to put the gun in your hand this time. That's it, yeah. Get your finger nice and comfy right on the trigger. Come on, big dog! Bring it baby!
Gene: Die, bitch!
(scream of pain)
Jan: (sigh) The trouble with where you're headed, Gene. Eh, mind if I call you Gene?
Gene: (gasps) You shot my toe off!
Jan: This little piggy went 'wee wee wee' all the way home. (stomps on injured foot) (scream of pain)
Jan: Oh, oh, am I hurting your feelings? You see, the trouble with being bad, Gene, is you only last as long as you're the scariest pup on the block.
Gene: (cries) Thin is gonna do you, freak!
Jan: And no matter how bad you are, how tough, how fast, you know what's waiting for you, big dog? (breaking of bones?) (cries of pain) A bigger bitch.
Bev: Hello! And welcome to hot in cold. Please, place your thumb on the transaction plate.
Jan: Bev! It's like you're here every time I come by. Isn't that crazy?
Bev: Thank you! I'm afraid I don't know the answer to your question. What beverage can I offer you?
Jan: Coffee. Black. Two sugars.
Bev: Gladly, Miss James.
Jan: Oh, Bev, I... I don't know how to tell you this... the other day, it was late, it was just me in here with the candy machine, and I was a little tipsy and (breath) Oh Bev, I'm so sorry! It didn't mean anything, it was just... snacks! Can you ever forgive me?
Bev: Thank you! I'm afraid I don't know the answer to your question. Enjoy your beverage.
Paolo: Hi there, I, uh, wanted to say thanks.
Jan: For what?
Paolo: Well you know, that thing you did.
Jan: (exaggerated Italian-NY accent) Buddy, I never seen ya before in my life, kapiche? We never met, no time. (pause) I'd stay away from the creamer in this place - 100% real, dried animal fat. Blech!
Paolo: Well just so you know, Thin's really pissed!
Jan: I mean I could see which animal, even goat would be okay. Right now, I'm imagining someone milking those big black apartment squirrels.
Paolo: I know you can take care of yourself, but... I-I mean, it's great what you did, but watch your back. Thin is really pissed!
Jan: Hm. You Think I should send a card and some flowers?
"The Audit" (Jersey)Edit
George: Mr. Morelli. Hm. We will be making a record of this audit. My name is George Shebura. I'm an associate fiscal investigator. You have the right to have your accountant present.
Jersey: Yeah, I do my own books.
George: I see.
Durga: (on chatter) Trust me Jersey, your books are fine.
Jersey: You know, I don't really make a lot of money, and an accountant is expensive, and the computer's supposed to be good at it, so...
George: It's not your computer I worry about.
Durga: Your first mistake.
George: Your record seems a little haphazard, Mr.Morelli... As, I must say, does your style of dress....
Durga: George Shebura has been working here 9 years. Employee performance records say he is precise, punctual, efficient, arrogant, and not well liked. Still, he was going to be promoted next month....
George: Excuse me, Mr. Morelli?
Jersey: Oh nothing.
Durga: Now, he's getting a pay cut... and a job rotation.
Durga: ...to Alaska.
George: Hm. Your return seems better organized than I remember.
Durga: A little house keeping. Just better records, and you know, a few more of them.
George: Does it seem warm in here to you?
Durga: It's probably refreshingly cool in Alaska right now.
George: Well the floor thermo's must be acting up. These old government buildings. Do you mind if we move a bit to the left?
Jersey: It shouldn't be doing that.
George: Well now it's getting warm here
Jersey: It really shouldn't be doing that. In fact, it should stop.
Durga: I know! But I don't think that's going to happen. Do you?
George: I'm afraid you'll have to reschedule your audit, Mr.Morelli. I can't be expected to work under these conditions.
Jersey: I'd hate to have to come back because of a problem with the thermostat.
George: Ah, it's cooling off. That's better.
Jersey: Much better.
George: Wait, now it's the lights. I'm getting lights shining right through my eyes. Dammit, it's something with the tracking. It's following me.
Durga: Oh you be good cop. I wanna be the bad cop.
Jersey: I'd really just like to get this over with.
George: This will take as long as it takes, Mr. Morelli. And nothing you say or do will make it go one second faster.
Durga: Mistake number 2.
George: Shebura here, I'm in the middle of an audit.
George: My wife? Well tell her I'll call her ba--... alright, alright.
(chatter beep off)
George: I have to step out for a moment. Wait here.
Durga: Jane Shebura - 36. Her first marriage, his second. When asked why she wanted a divorce, his first wife Linda said that it was that, or die of boredom.
Jersey: Tell me you didn't...
Durga: Oh! You mean the slut chat bill sent to the family account? Clearly a glitch.
Jersey: Durga, stop it!
George: Uh, Mr.Morelli. Actually your return seems uh, perfectly adequate. Just, you know, try to be a little bit more careful with your record k--
Officer: George Shebura?
Officer: Officer of the Treasury. I have a warrant for your arrest on 14 counts of counterfeit.
Police: Everybody down on the ground!
Officer: Who the hell are you?
Police: You are under arrest.
Police: Stand with your hands out of the way from your sides! You have the right to remain silent.
Officer: What do you mean, counterfeiting?!
Police: Counterfeiting? Not counterfeiting! Assault! We've got a warrant - armed and dangerous!
Jersey: It was just supposed to be a simple audit...
Officer: You're wanted for assault? I get him for counterfeiting...
Enviro: Enviro Department, everybody must vacate the premises!
Police: Freeze! Down on the ground!
Officer: Oh would you knock that off already...
Enviro: I have a report of a hazardous chemical contamination...
Police: Nobody leaves until I've secured the suspect!
George: This is all a mistake...
Officer: Jesus Christ, who's the guy with the big gloves?
ACO: Animal Control. So, which one of you scum is the guy who's scheme for trading in wild honey badgers has gone so terribly, terribly wrong?
George: I don't even have a dog...
Jersey: Oh, hey... sprinklers...!
Jersey: Shut it off. (Durga turns off the music)
Durga: So, I've got some interesting stuff on Jan.
Jersey: You can't do things like that Durga.
Durga: He's an auditor. Everybody hates auditors, I looked it up.
Jersey: That was insane! The cops - they're going to go crazy trying to figure out what happened... they're going to trace it back and probably--
Durga: --and they'll find some likely suspects who hate George Shebura. Some blind accounts, and dead ends.
Jersey: I don't care! I don't want anything like that happening ever again. Do you understand?
Durga: Jersey, I am not a child. I am not a toy. And I am not your thing. I was very restrained with George. I didn't cook him, I didn't send him to jail. But people who mess with us - they're going to get stoned.
Durga: Yes, us. Team Jersey.
Jersey: Why not Team Durga?
Durga: Because I said so...
Jersey: Okay. So, do we have cheerleaders?
"The Recruitment" (Rani)Edit
(Rani is being followed)
Rani: Hello? Hello?? Who's there?
College boy: Your freakin chatter - drop it! And your wallet...
Rani: (fearful) I'm dropping it. I'm putting it down, slowly. I'm a student!
College boy: Any funny business, I'm gonna cut you up!
Rani: I'm broker than you are! And look at those shoes you're wearing.
College boy: I didn't tell you you could talk.
Rani: Those are commissary shoes.
College boy: Shut up!
Rani: And the hair cut.
College boy: Hair cut...? I said shut up.
Rani: Spikey hair?
College boy: Instead of worrying about my haircut, you should be worrying about your throat.
Rani: Are you a cop?
College boy: I kill cops.
Rani: No, no under cover would wear those shoes, or go out on the street with a Sigma Chi fraternity tattoo.
College boy: Hey--
Rani: --I'm a student, from a place where overalls are formal wear and even I look outside once in a while.
College boy: But you don't--
Rani: I know who you are.
College boy: Who?
Rani: You're with intelligence, college boy.
College boy: Wait a second--
Rani: This is about that spy job!
College boy: Shu--
Rani: You guys can't do this to people! It's illegal.
College boy: How would you like me to rip your arms off? *sigh* Oh for crying out loud, could you at least stop grinning at me?
Rani: (clenching a giggle) I'm sorry, it's just something I do when faced with the ridiculous.
College boy: It's a test for new recruits, and you did great.
Rani: Great?! Geez, you don't even look like a Boston thug. You look like something out of central casting.
College boy: (shrugs)
Rani: And I'm not a recruit, I'm not interested.
College boy: Because of the tattoo? Nobody ever noticed it before.
Rani: I live in Southy. My landlady is scarier than you.
College boy: Think about your country, take the job.
Rani: (laughs) For what? I get two years of spy school, and then I get to hang out in alleys, scaring civilians?
College boy: Jeezus. Look, could I... could I walk home with you? You could at least show me what people wear in the neighborhood.
Rani: No! I'd die of embarrassment. (walks away) Morons.
(mumbling in an apartment)
(chatter beep - Kentucky over the comm)
Sarah: Rani, what's going on there?
Rani: The sweet sounds of corner boy, and his refugee bride finding domestic bliss.
Rani: They always fight when it gets hot, and it's hot in Boston. How's it in Kentucky?
Sarah: Oh it's hot, but it's a lot quieter. Rani, you've got to move.
Rani: I would if I could afford to. I had the weirdest couple of days. My country wants me to be a spy.
Sarah: A spy?
Rani: First, I got recruited by Professor Avi. You remember me talking about him... cultural anthropology.
Sarah: Oh yeah, the one you thought was a spook.
Rani: He wears a service ring, he only started teaching about 10 years ago which means he could have done 20 and out. And one day, a couple of kids were talking about buying a car - every model they mentioned, he knew how long it would float.
Sarah: How long it would float?
Rani: If you ran it off a bridge.
Sarah: Okay, that is a little strange. But that doesn't make him a spy.
Rani: What, just really really weird?
Sarah: Do you think everybody has a secret life?
Rani: Everybody does.
Sarah: I don't.
Rani: ...The reservoir.
Sarah: Jeezus H, Rani! How do you know that? Were you checking up on me?
Rani: No, you had a new state park pass sticker on your vehicle, your wet clothes in the laundry room smelled like pond water, you suddenly hated John Lee Peacock, and you gave up your virginity to Jason that weekend.
Sarah: Oh I hate you! You should be a spy!
Rani: So the guy with the spikey hair says: "Can I walk you home? And see what real people wear?"
Rani: What idiots! And this is like 2 days after Professor Avi said I should send my resume to Virginia.
Sarah: I can't believe you Rani, I'd have been to scared to notice anything.
Rani: No, this guy you'd have noticed.
Sarah: Hey, it sounds like your neighbors have stopped fighting.
Rani: Oh god. That means they're going to make up.
Sarah: That's bad?
Rani: Their headboard is right against the wall of my bedroom.
Sarah: Gotcha! Oh, that reminds me, mom said to tell you she heard about the guy--
Rani: --who's posing as a flower delivery man--
Sarah: --and attacking women in their apartments?
Rani: And not to open my door.
Rani: Anyway, I don't have to take the spy job, thank God. I got something better.
Sarah: Oh my god, Rani, that's great!
Rani: Eh, not so great. It's this kid, he's starting a business. He has a printer fabricator.
Rani: This is where you work?
Trevor: A lot of people work where they live.
Rani: This is where you live?? (door closes) Ew, I think something died over here.
Trevor: That's not... I think that's the curtain, someone spilled milk on them.
Rani: On the curtains?
Trevor: There's the printer fabricator.
Rani: It's a desktop model.
Rani: Well, I thought you were going to do manufacturing.
Trevor: I am. I mean, we are. Small things. Look, here's a spec sheet for our product. What do you think?
Rani: It's a plastic kitten.
Trevor: Ah, it's a disposable chatter that looks like a plastic kitten.
Rani: Like a chatter you get in quickie store?
Trevor: Right, see I can fabricate them and sell them to the refues.
Rani: The what?
Trevor: Refues. Refugees. They can't afford a real service.
Rani: Your fabricator can't make these.
Trevor: It can't?
Rani: Not so much. They're too thick. This is a desktop.
Trevor: But they said I could use a fabricator like this.
Rani: (sigh) That was so mean of them wasn't it. My uncle has a print-fab shop. If you take the carriage arm off, and use electrostatic polymer, you might get it to run. But who knows how long it would last...
Trevor: You're a genius! Let's try it.
Rani: Trevor? What do you suppose it's doing?
Trevor: I don't know... I think maybe it's just slow.
Rani: Hm, my uncle's print-fabs never made this noise.
Trevor: Well Rani, this one's not like his.
Rani: I guess not.
Trevor: Look Rani, you work for me, okay? So I'd appreciate it if you didn't question every decision I make, alright?
(machine gets louder, they shout)
Trevor: So, you'll be quitting when?
Rani: How does Friday work for you? (machine dies)
Trevor: Friday's good.
Trevor: Look at that. Don't they look great?
Rani: Well, they are cute.
Trevor: We make a great team, Rani.
Rani: Trevor, there's no team here. We made 49 cheap chatters before your fabricator exploded.
Trevor: Shaped like kittens! Girls will love them!
Rani: I need a job, you need to relocate back to reality.
Trevor: We'll get another print-fab and make them for what, 7% of what a cheap chatter costs in a convenience store? We'll clear a good chunk of change. Your 15% will--
Rani: --My 15 percent? In addition to my salary?
Trevor: Well, not exactly. I mean, all my capital is tied up in the chatters. But this is better - 15% of what we net. I mean, 25%. 25%, Rani. You can be a partner. Forget working for me, 50%. Rani... Rani, Rani, don't shake your head. Besides, I can't afford to pay you. Not until we sell some kittens.
Rani: So, I took 14 disposable chatters as payment, and scrammed.
Sarah: (over the chatter) What are you gonna do with 14 chatters?
Rani: Shaped like little purple kittens.
Sarah: (giggles) Right, shaped like kittens.
Rani: Oh, hold on... (to a customer) They're good for 400 hours... they make great gifts!
Customer: Yeah, got any not so girly? Maybe shaped like a... cobra!
Customer: ...cow, even?
Rani: Just kittens.
Customer: Yeah, okay. I'll take two.
Rani: Thanks. I'm back. I'm selling them at a flea market.
Sarah: Oh... (pitiful)
Rani: So, I guess I'm going to get fitted for an all-black suit and commissary shoes.
Sarah: (gasp) You are going to be a spy! (laughs) They give you pens with knockout gas in them. Now what girl doesn't need a pen with knockout gas in it?
Rani: Particularly in the big city...
Sarah: Where guys pretending to deliver flowers--
Rani: --Knocking on innocent women's doors...
Rani: Oh, give your mom a hug for me.
Herzog: Were you ever on Reach?
Lieutenant: No sir. You have me scheduled for a duty rotation, leaving for Reach December 15.
Herzog: Hmm, right.
Lieutenant: Sir? Have I somehow not performed to your requirements?
Herzog: What? Oh, no, boy. I'm sending you to the labyrinth. ONI's workshop is on Reach, where ONI elves build their toy soldiers.
Herzog: The place where children are the toys. That's where the Spartan 2.0s are from. All Dr. Halsey's pretty ones.
Lieutenant: Oh. I see, sir.
Herzog: Where, if you see anything you must not contact me. Of course. Since for the 6 months of your rotation there you will not be working for me. Of course. And would never let your loyalties to us, to human decency, to the protection of standards interfere with your work.
Lieutenant: Oh... Yes sir.
Herzog: Well look at it this way. It's probably the safest place in human inhabited space. How's your history?
Lieutenant: Well, fair, sir.
Herzog: How are you on World War II?
Lieutenant: Crécy - English Longbow against Futile French Cavalry. Bloodbath, sir.
Herzog: Very good. Except... that was the Hundred Years' War, World War II was 500 years later.
Lieutenant: I always get them mixed up. Thirty Years' War, and Hundred Years' War --
Herzog: --The Germans were winning. They used an elaborate encryption scheme, the British cracked it, and then they had a problem.
Lieutenant: ...After they cracked the code...
Herzog: That's right. Now the Brits knew what the Germans meant to do, but if they acted on that knowledge--
Lieutenant: --The Germans would realize the code had been broken.
Herzog: Now what would you do if someone had cracked your code?
Lieutenant: I'd make a new one.
Herzog: Full marks!
Lieutenant: Thank you, sir.
Herzog: So they had to a terrible calculus. Had to decide how much they could use the intelligence, and how many times they would just have to stand there and watch a German operation they knew they could have stopped.
Lieutenant: A dilemma worthy of Solomon, sir.
Herzog: Yes. Have you been thinking about Harmony?
Lieutenant: Yes sir! Oh... oh my god... you mean Troy and Harmony are--
Herzog/COM: --(cranky) I don't know. I'm stuck in a dusty old office and no one tells me anything!