Hey Duck, hear any word on the whereabouts of that Captain P?
Sure, I’ll take a of finger 8-orbit scotch. Many thanks.
Oh, the chicken? Supposed to trade him to someone who thinks he has info on that Dr. Slike. No, not the trader-he, the chicken-he. This chicken is supposed to know something about what happened to Dr. Slike, but the only fargin’ thing I’ve been able to get out of him is a lot of chickenshit. All over the cargo bay.
