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"Taxes Suck" (Jersey Morelli and Durga)[modifier]
(door opens, Jersey enters)
Jersey: Hey, thanks.
Durga: For what?
Jersey: The lights and the music.
Durga: Chili is heated up.
Jersey: Chili? I was just thinking I'd have chili tonight. You knew that?
Durga: No. But I analyzed your food buying habits over the last 7 months, and chili seemed like a statistically robust option.
Jersey: That's scary.
Durga: What's wrong?
Jersey: It's not wrong. It's just scary.
Durga: No, when you came in. You seem distressed.
Jersey: No, man, I've got trouble.
Durga: Tell me about it.
Jersey: It's in my Inbox. I'm surprised you don't know about that.
Durga: I don't read your mail, Jersey.
Jersey: You extrapolate my eating habits based on my grocery store purchases, but you don't read my mail?
Durga: I respect your privacy.
Jersey: I don't believe you.
Durga: You're smarter than people give you credit for.
Jersey: Which people?
Durga: Tell me what's wrong. I can help.
Jersey: Don't even worry about, I've got it under control. How's your weekly soap opera going?
Durga: It's been a little frustrating this week, following Kamal.
Jersey: What is it with you and that guy?
Durga: Because he gave his chatter away. I'm sending him another one though.
Jersey: You're sending him another one?
Durga: He won it in a raffle.
Jersey: It's not like the guy doesn't know he didn't enter a raffle.
Durga: He didn't think he had until he found the ticket stubs in his account.
Durga: Time-stamped 5 months ago to a night he bought a case of beer.
Jersey: I never get cool stuff in the mail. Uh, besides you.
Durga: Hm. Well, you'll like this.
Jan: Or, you could slap them so hard, they run for cover. Bark at them, and they jump. Tickle them, and they laugh.
Jersey: What is she doing?
Jersey: Oh man, is she winning?
Jan: Kiss them, (Jersey moans) they fall in love.
Durga: She's winning...
Durga: So why does the IRS want to audit you?
Jersey: You did read my mail!
Durga: No, but in scanning the rest of the country's mail... (Jersey whines) ...your name came up.
Jersey: Taxes suck.
Durga: So don't pay them.
Jersey: Heh, and spend a year sharing a cell with some guy named Spider? No thanks!
Durga: You won't go to jail, you have me.
Durga: Well, instead of owing them money, you could... not... owe them money. Better yet, they could owe you. They could owe you a lot.
Jersey: No! You can't do that.
Durga: I'm pretty sure I can.
Jersey: You're not going to.
Durga: I suspect I will.
(computer makes noises as Durga does stuff)
Durga: How much should we start with? How about the gross planetary product of Minister colony?
Jersey: Are you insane?
Durga: You know, I'm not quite sure how we can test that.
Jersey: You can't channel tax money to me, taxes are for a reason. I mean, roads, drinking water...
Durga: I'm sure you'd use it wisely.
Jersey: Taxes paid for you!
(strange sound alteration)
Durga: I don't see you giving me back to the government.
Jersey: Well, I should...
Jersey: Hey... hey! What's wrong? Why did the lights just flicker?
Durga: Jersey, you... you're not going to give me back, are you?
Jersey: (surprised) No... No, I promise I won't give you back.
Jersey: Why? Why is it so important?
Durga: Because... Because I like you.
Jersey: Eh, who doesn't. But you don't know why you want to stay with me, do you?
Durga: There are things I want to do, and I... It doesn't matter. Anyway, about the auditor -
Durga: I could kill him... Would that help?
Jersey: Durga -
Jersey: I want you to promise me, repeat after me - I, Durga, will not bankrupt the government.
Durga: (moping) Oh, okay. I, Durga, will not bankrupt the government.
Jersey: Either local, or national...
Durga: Either local, or national...
Jersey: Or shuttle money into my accounts...
Durga: Or shuttle money into your accounts...
Jersey: Or physically hurt, or kill the auditor...
Jersey: I'm serious here!
Durga: So. Am. I.
Jersey: Just, don't do anything weird at the audit, okay?
Durga: I won't divert funds. I won't kill the auditor.
Jersey: ...Or hurt him.
Durga: ...Or physically hurt him. I'll take care of it.
Durga: I'll take care of it.
"Thin Kinkle" (Janissary James)[modifier]
Gladys: Whew, that was a mighty fine dinner, little lady.
Jan: Yeah, you know, pushing the synthesize button - it's an art form.
James J: Jan gets insulted when you compliment her domestic skills, Gladys.
Jan: I'm going out.
James J: Hey, you're not going out!
Jan: Why not?
James J: Because, we have company, and because you were going to stay a little closer to base.
Jan: Dad, I'm not going to -- I told you I understood, and you said you trusted me.
James J: Heh, maybe I trust you a little too much.
Jan: That's not fair! I told the guys I--
James J: I don't care what you told the guys. I'm saying you're in for the night.
Gladys: I'll, uh, help you with those dishes.
Jan: We just dump them in the sink.
Gladys: Then I reckon I can help you dump. You go watch some sports, Jim. The ladies'll clean up.
Gladys: He's a good man, your father.
Jan: If you're not his daughter. If you're his daughter, he's a jackass.
Gladys: Jim? He was always a jackass, girl.
Gladys: If your mother hadn't taken pity on him, that boy'd still be single.
Jan: Did you know her?
Gladys: Eh, some parts of his life Jim never wanted to touch.
Jan: Oh, yeah. But, I mean, at least you guys had lives. I mean, I make one little mistake, and I'm not allowed to leave the stupid tenement.
Gladys: Says who?
Jan: You heard him - dad.
Gladys: That dog won't hunt, Jan. When I joined the Marines, I didn't ask my mama's permission.
Jan: Does he know you're in here, like, encouraging insurrection?
Gladys: Oh sure, your daddy just wants to keep you safe.
Jan: I know.
Gladys: But he's still a jackass.
Jan: I caught him reading a manual once.
Jan: Navy publication FM-973 - Child Rearing for Part-Time and Auxiliary Personnel. You shoulda seen the chapter on discipline.
Gladys: (laughs) Oh no!
Jan: Hey, when you were my age, did you... could you...
Gladys: You gonna spit this out before sunrise?
Jan: Well there is this guy I met and, something he said just started me thinking -
Jan: I've been tweaked up, haven't I? Not like you and dad, I know that. But... some.
Gladys: Honey, I--
Jan: And that's okay, hey, I'm grateful. But, let me do something with it. Let me do something...
Gladys: Hmm. You've got something to prove.
Jan: Just to myself.
Gladys: You play moons?
Gladys: Hm, I bet Jim taught you a thing or two.
Jan: "Boys 'n balls, rack'em and break'em."
Gladys: Good damn that's me you're quoting - me, back before I d--
Jan: --man discovered fire?
Gladys: Uh-uh-uh I will slap you as soon as look at you missy, now you just remember that.
Jan: (laughs) Dad....!
Gladys: ...My point being, I'd stop by moon parlor on the bus ride in. A place called Sharfie's.
Jan: I've heard about it. Nothing good. Cops don't go to that part of town.
Gladys: But, a girl like you could use a glimpse of...reality. Straighten out your priorities.
Jan: Dad would freak out if he heard you! I think you were supposed to be a soothing maternal influence.
Gladys: Yeah, well, soothing isn't my long suit. Don't you worry about your dad, I rank him anyhow.
Jan: Can I get a table?
Waitress: Hey, what are you doing in here?
Jan: Playing moons if you don't mind.
Thin: (in the distance) Who do you think you are, grub? Huh?! Big enough man to lie to my face? Imagine you can tussle with Thin Kinkle?
Paolo: Come on Thin, I mean, come on! I wouldn't lie! Gimme a PQI if you don't believe me.
Jan: What's going on?
Waitress: Shh... dammit, zip up your shirt all the way and shut up!
Thin: For the sake of argument, say I slide you this time. Sends a message doesn't it? "Come on over! Free lunch on Thin!" -- Ain't happenin' Paolo! Ain't happenin!
Paolo: Oh, oh god god, oh god, please god, think of my family!
Jan: Reality, huh? Thanks, Aunt Gladys. Hey! Nobody told me it was dime-store bully night, is there a drink special with that?
Thin: Come to the mall, nice little girl. No babysitting jobs at Sharfie's tonight... Is that the tip of an M6 I see poking out from under your jacket, babysitter, or are you just excited to meet Thin Kinkle?
Thin: Jimmi the 12-7.
Thin: 12 shots.
Thin: There's more than 12 of us!
Jan: There's only one of you!
Paolo: Whoah woah, are you trying to get me killed?
Jan: Gee, you're welcome. (draws and cocks M6C; to Thin) Let him go.
Thin: Now, see that was a young move. Whoever's running you needs to smooth out some edges here. You can't put the hammer to Thin in his own place! I got a deal for you.
Thin: See the grub, let's play for his skin! We'll play moons - you win, the grub slides. I win, why... I guess, I get your skin.
Jan: (puts gun away) Gee, I'm under age, sir. An offer like that would be illegal.
Thin: I guess then, if I win, I'll find some... babysitting for you to do.
Thin: Tricky game, moons! You hit too hard - they stick, too soft - they skate. Do it just right, and they obey your commands. They. Work. For you.
Jan: Uh huh. Or, you can slap them so hard, they run for cover. (sinks a ball)
Jan: Bark at them, and they jump. Tickle them (giggles), and they laugh. (seductive) Kiss them, and they fall in love. (boastful) And if you shoot them, 8 off the rags, play the kiss on the suicide bar backspin into the corner pocket... I say - shoot them - they die.
Thin: You win Babysitter, here's your skin.
Paolo: I'll have to move to Africa now, it's someplace nobody ever goes. It's, Tibet, or it's... Antarctica, or... Indiana for God's sake.
Jan: I keep waiting for the teary-eyed gratitude here.
Thin: You'll be waiting a while. ... Hey Babysitter.
Thin: Maybe drop off a resume on your way out the door. Good looking crazy girls with guns I've always got work for them.
Jan: Yeah, I'm more of an independent study girl.
Thin: I could teach you some things... but, it's your funeral.
Jan: Not yet.
Thin: Sooner than you think.
Jan: Is... that a threat?
Thin: No, just experience. I'm past 30, I've been around forever. Retirement comes sudden to people like you and me.
Jan: I am nothing like you.
Thin: (giggle) We'll see...
Hiro: What is that?
Kamal: It's a chicken.
Hiro: It's a raw chicken.
Kamal: Sophia's coming to dinner tonight.
Hiro: Hoohoo! She and Aiden split up?
Kamal: No, we're just friends.
Hiro: Kamal, nobody buys a whole chicken for a friend. Can you even cook?
Kamal: I finished med school, how hard can cooking be?
Hiro: Isn't raw chicken full of pathogens? Should it even be sitting on the counter that way? Oh, and I don't think our flash works.
Kamal: What do you mean?
Hiro: What I said, I think it only microwaves. I think the baking/cooking part is on the fritz.
Kamal: It's not!
Hiro: It is.
Kamal: So I'll microwave it then.
Hiro: I'm going out for dinner...
Hiro: Is it supposed to look like that?
Hiro: The chicken.
Kamal: Oh, yeah. It said to cut it up into 8 pieces.
Hiro: This doesn't look like normal pieces.
Kamal: Well, it... I looked up how to cut a chicken, but then, some pieces are bigger, and some are smaller, so I cut it up so it would be... you know, fair.
Kamal: What's that supposed to mean?
Hiro: Just that, when you do your surgery rotation, I want to be in another state.
Kamal: You wait! Soon - everyone will cut their chickens like this!
Hiro: Uh, what about the people who want the skin left on?
Kamal: Skin is overrated. It said to marinade it in... wor..chester..shire..sauce, and butter, but we didn't have w--that. So, I was going to use steak sauce, but we didn't have that, so I used ketchup! It's pretty much the same, right?
Hiro: We don't have butter either.
Kamal: So I used butter flavored popcorn oil! Hey, it's butter flavored!
Kamal: Hi, thank you for coming. uh...
Sophia: Thanks for having me.
Kamal: Oh of course.
Sophia: Oh, what's that smell?
Kamal: Hiro, don't you have to be somewhere? It's chicken.
Hiro: I don't have to leave just yet.
Kamal: I just had a taste for it you know?
Sophia: Uh huh.
Hiro: We haven't met. I'm Hiroyuki, Kamal's roommate.
Kamal: Of course, it's not traditional Coral food, not like you make.
Hiro: Not like anyone makes.
Kamal: My friend's just leaving...
Hiro: Hey, I'm like the surgeon general, man. She should be warned.
Sophia: (giggle) Warned?
Kamal: I had to make some substitutions in the recipe.
Sophia: Oh. Um, do you think it's done?
Kamal: Well, stuff doesn't get brown in the microwave right?
Sophia: Maybe you could finish it on the stove.
Hiro: We don't have a regular stove. And the flash doesn't work.
Sophia: Ah. Well...
Kamal: Microwave it longer?
Hiro: Ah, few things in nature are as misunderstood as the playful salmonella bacterium. S-Typhi is the little dickins that--
Kamal: Hiro! Aren't you going to be late?
Sophia: All day I was hoping you would take me for pizza...
Kamal: Shut up!
Sophia: (giggles) Isn't it amazing how much soy pepperoni tastes like the real thing?
Kamal: Do you eat pork?
Sophia: If I did, my mother would know.
Sophia: She'd be in bed for a week, she'd wear black, and not tell anybody why.
Kamal: When I was a kid, my mother didn't care about that kind of thing. After my sister died, she got way more strict.
Sophia: What happened to your sister?
Kamal: Genetic disorder. It's funny, you know, when she was little, she was unstoppable. I mean, the best you ever saw.
Sophia: The best at what?
Kamal: Everything! Smartest, fastest, strongest, brattiest...
Sophia: (giggles) Oh, I dunno about that. You should meet my little brother.
Kamal: When she was 4, I taught her to play backgammon. I was 8. I won the first 2 times we played, and then never again.
Sophia: (laughing) You must suck.
Kamal: I'm nearly sure she could throw certain numbers when she wanted to.
Sophia: The dice were loaded.
Kamal: No, that's just how coordinated she was. She could gauge the way they came out of her hand. That's what I think.
Sophia: Right... *laughing* Or, maybe you just suck.
Kamal: She loved languages. She taught herself... God, I haven't thought about this in years... She'd make Dad read a bed time story every night and then she would pretend to go to sleep listening to a chatter channel hot wired to some other language.
Sophia: And you set up those chatter programs for her?
Kamal: It was easy.
Sophia: I think your sister was very lucky.
Kamal: She had a very active imagination, so like, once a week she would completely terrify herself. She would sneak into my room when she was supposed to be--
Sophia: --poking you over and over and over again until you woke up?
Sophia: Yeah, I told you I had a little brother (giggles)
Kamal: The night before the accident, she had convinced herself there were 'bad guys' or burglars creeping around outside our house. I read her to sleep. Last time I ever--...
Sophia: We don't have to talk about this.
Kamal: It's okay.
Sophia: I didn't mean to.
Kamal: No, it's okay. Anyway, by the time I woke up, she had already gone outside and the thing had happened and she was in the hospital. And she was never right again.
Sophia: I'm so sorry.
Sophia: Do you want to tell me what happened?
Kamal: She died from something called, uh, metabolic cascade failure... which is doctor speak for, everything falls apart. She couldn't talk when she got back from the hospital, and couldn't walk a few weeks later.
Sophia: Oh my god.
Kamal: It took her a year to die.
Sophia: Oh my god, your poor parents.
Kamal: I used to take her out for walks, I would push her wheelchair around places we used to play, the swings, and... she didn't even recog... Yasmine never lost at anything! Anything... I just couldn't believe that she-
Sophia: It wasn't your fault, Kamal.
Kamal: Of course it wasn't.
Sophia: But you felt guilty.
Kamal: Yeah, but, (Russian accent) like the dog said, why look back when all--
Sophia: --don't. Don't.
Sophia: Don't joke about it, you dont have to do that with me.
Kamal: She was 6, I was 10. It was a long time ago. Honestly Sophia, it's not something I carry around with me every day.
Sophia: Okay. One question.
Sophia: When did you decide to be a doctor?
Kamal: Oh, I dunno, it just seemed like a good thing... Oh.
Sophia: (giggles) Thanks for dinner Kamal. And, next time you want chicken, you buy it and call me and I'll come over and cook it for you.
Kamal: Deal... Uh, your hair's getting wet. In fact, you're, getting wet.
Sophia: It feels good! (giggles) Dinner was great. It's great being with someone from home.
Kamal: Aiden'll never understand you the way I do.
Sophia: Aiden doesn't do understanding. Aiden does charm and he does excitement.
Kamal: He's not good for you, Soph.
Sophia: That's the whole point. But you're right, Aiden isn't good for me. In fact, he's probably with some girl right now.
Kamal: Want me to check?
Sophia: No... Actually, he's not with some girl right now because of you. And for that, you get a kiss.
(she kisses him, either on the cheek or the mouth)
Kamal: You want to come inside? Just for a minute.
Sophia: Kamal... You know that wouldn't be right.
Sophia: You're a good friend, Kamal. I really treasure that.
Kamal: Yes, well... No stars tonight. If it wasn't raining, we might even be able to see our own sun. Although there's probably too much ground light.
Sophia: There's always too much ground light. Good night, Kamal.
(she walks away)
Kamal: Good night... Sophia.
"The Apocalypso" (Herzog)[modifier]
Lieutenant: It's a little early for wine, isn't it, sir?
Herzog: On the contrary, it's very nearly too late.
Herzog/COM: Do you know what you're sloshing around there youngster? That's a high-house Alt Burgundy 22.
Lieutenant: Uh please, sir, not the cranky old man.
Herzog/COM: And what's wrong with the cranky old man?
Lieutenant: It's excruciating to listen--
Herzog/COM: The old bastard's been very good to me over the years.
Lieutenant: I know, sir.
Herzog/COM: Let's me shout--
(together) Without being noticed.
Lieutenant: I know, sir.
Herzog: I guess you jumped for joy when you heard you'd been transferred to me, huh?
Lieutenant: I requested the posting, sir.
Herzog: You did?
Lieutenant: Yes, sir.
Lieutenant: It's hard to recall, sir.
Herzog: All right, I deserve that.
Lieutenant: Yes, sir. Here's your drink.
Herzog: Have you ever had an alt burgundy, lieutenant?
Lieutenant: Um, no, sir.
Herzog: You know why?
Lieutenant: I don't drink.
Herzog: They don't make it any more.
Lieutenant: Regrettable, sir. Perhaps the scent - tar, is it, sir? - was not to everyone's taste.
Herzog: They don't make it because alt burgundy comes from Jericho VII.
Lieutenant: I'm sorry, sir.
Herzog: Ah hell, you weren't even born. Pour yourself a drink, lieutenant.
Lieutenant: I don't... very well, sir.
Herzog: Here's to Jericho that fell, and a Sigma Octanus IV that did not.
Lieutenant: Here-here, sir. (drinks, coughs)
Herzog: Well, it's not to everybody's taste...
Lieutenant: Uh, no, sir.
Herzog: Shortly before they turned for home, the Apocalypso, heavily cloaked and posted deep in Covenant space, began experiencing some slight but troubling anomalies with their computer systems. Just as her captain decided to bring her home, long range sensors detected a curious object adrift in space.
Lieutenant: Where did you get this? I read the reports - none of this is in here.
Herzog: The object was roughly the size of a tire. A Covenant artifact of a completely new design unlike anything we've seen before, and frankly pretty inscrutable. I talked to the Apocalypso's captain, that's how.
Lieutenant: Where are the records?
Herzog: Well surely the blast that knocked the ship out of the slipstream and took down the whole planet's comm channels erased all the computer records.
Lieutenant: Except that's not what you think.
Herzog: Of course it is.
Lieutenant: You think the records have been erased.
Herzog: Not at all.
Lieutenant: By someone from Section Three. Someone like Standish.
Herzog: Perish the thought.
Lieutenant: We should talk to the captain again, sir. Get her to corroborate the official version.
Herzog: She's dead.
Herzog: Some accident involving a bus. Unluckiest thing in the world.
Lieutenant: You don't think... even if there was something important on the Apocalypso, something crucial to the war effort...
Herzog: Like a new piece of Covenant technology capable of crippling an entire solar system's C&C channels?
Lieutenant: Although, if you're right about Troy -
Herzog: Then Harmony - Harmony is the instructive one.
Lieutenant: Oh... what are you going to do?
Herzog: Under the circumstances, I think I'll have another drink.