XTravis: Permission to punch Specialist Jameson in the face, sir. Isidro: Denied. The Commander called dibs. Travis: Then I'd like to move my charge to a more secure location. Isidro: And that would be...? Travis: Er, the head, sir. Isidro: Carry on. Cedric: The Commander didn't really say that, did she, sir? Isidro: Hmm? Oh. No. She said that it'd been at least six months since we had a major political scandal caused by somebody's raging hormones, so she really should have seen it coming. Cedric: That's not too -- Isidro: She also said that your ass was pate de foie gras with a slice of lemon and a nice parsely garnish. Cedric: B-but... Isidro: Hey, look on the bright side! You can stop worrying about your career.