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[Kevin has an inert body draped over his shoulder in an awkward approximation of a fireman's carry.]
John Crichton's in a coma. I'm taking him down to the infirmary. Scorpius, don't bother trying to fuck with him.
[What? He knows the guy wants to cause trouble for Crichton. And this would make it easier for him.]
John Crichton's in a coma. I'm taking him down to the infirmary. Scorpius, don't bother trying to fuck with him.
[What? He knows the guy wants to cause trouble for Crichton. And this would make it easier for him.]
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What about chickens?
[ Sometimes she worries about you, Kevin. ]
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Kevin, stop. Just... stop.
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Yes, well, I think the difference here is that I'm good at it.
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Come again?
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