“I'm working! What are you doing? Besides being...
Being what?
Wait a minute...
Sarcastic? Unfeeling? British?
It's an animal.
Where?
No, the word!
Still you have to admit, I am... very British. I don't say hard R's.
You know what I like? Brown sauce. What's it made of? Science doesn't know!
It's made of brown.
Brown. Mined from the earth by the hardscrabble brown miners of North Brownderton.
Oh, my God. I find lentils completely incomprehensible. What the sun-dappled hell is Echo doing at Fremont?
That's got nothing to do with the drug, which means our problems are huge and indomitable.
Ooh. I could eat that word. Or a crisp. Do you have any crisps?
You haven't seen my drawer of inappropriate starches? C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!
Oh my god, I'm having such a terrible day.”