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Adrian Mallory: Any questions?

Pella Bhat: Which moon are we going to?

Adrian Mallory: The one you're familiar with.

Eddie: How'd you get my number? I'm unlisted.

Bradley Gregory: Uh, Angie's List.

Pella Bhat: Are they serving dinner on the flight?

F. Tony Scarapiducci: Meals will be provided. (to Mallory): Right? Is that right?

Adrian Mallory: Yes.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: Meals will be provided, so...

Pella Bhat: Are we expected to breed?

Adrian Mallory: No.

Pella Bhat: Can I bring my cat?

Bradley Gregory: Can she bring her cat? No. Sorry.

Eddie: If we are required to breed, do I have a choice? Is it her?

F. Tony Scarapiducci: That's a great question. He's saying if they have to have sex, could it be her? He could be into it.

Adrian Mallory: I understood. Thank you. Uh, if it will be required, you will be given a choice, yes.

Pella Bhat: I get an hour for lunch.

Adrian Mallory: Understood.

Eddie: When is Christmas on the moon?

Adrian Mallory: It's the usual time. After Christmas Eve.

Pella Bhat: Werewolves. Have you addressed the possible hazard of werewolves on the moon, in their prime environment?

Eddie: I understand that you can grow up to two inches on the moon. Is that in all directions?

Hildy: Have a good time in Denver, General. Just know it may not be as great as you remember.

Mark Naird: Thank you, Hildy. Expectations managed.

Adrian Mallory: Uh, people certainly seem invested in your fake trip.

Mark Naird: They care about the old man because they know the old man cares about them.

Adrian Mallory: Mm-hmm.

Mark Naird: Any problems, Brad'll take care of them.

Dr. Vandeveld: General, if I may offer some advice. Downtown Denver will always be there. Why not spend some time getting to know the other parts of the city? That way, when you do go "downtown," it will be that much more special. Yes? Okay. Happy travels.

Adrian Mallory: I believe your code may have been cracked.

Mark Naird: Yeah. No sh*t.

Hannah Howard: Your phone.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: No, thank you.

Hannah Howard: You have to put it in the secure case, which will open again after the demo is over. No phones is part of the NDA you signed.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: Yeah, no, I don't think I'll be doing that, because the last time I handed you my phone, I wasn't allowed within 300 feet of my own f**king office.

Hannah Howard: Are you still holding a grudge? Don't be petulant, Anthony.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: "Don't be petulant, Anthony." You're a goblin. (Hands her his phone, Hannah points at his legs...) What? What are you doing?

Hannah Howard: The ankle. The holster on your ankle...

F. Tony Scarapiducci: This is so...

Hannah Howard: ...that you hand-stitched yourself.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: This is stupid.

Hannah Howard: You are pathetic. Jesus Christ.

Bobby: General, let me say I am very sorry for canceled sex visit with your convict wife.

Mark Naird: How do you know about that?

Bobby: From observation. The way you walk. Wait... you think I'm spy?

Adrian Mallory: The thought has crossed our minds, yeah.

Bobby: Please, my phone doesn't stop ringing. Like, "Yuri, why does India have Pegasus and not Russia? What are we paying you for?" "Mr. President, Father, I am sorry." You see? Our interests, the same. Let Bobby help you.

Mark Naird: Everyone should be proud. You acquitted yourselves well.

Obie Hanrahan: We got ice cream, sir.

Mark Naird: Enjoy it. That goes for all of you. Enjoy life while you can. For only the dead have seen the end of war.

Julio Díaz: We got sprinkles, sir.

Mark Naird: Jesus.

Kiki Rhodes (to Angela): Man, we about to get BB'd up. I'd rather just get regular shot. You know how b*tches love the gunshot wounds.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: Whoa, whoa. B*tches actually don't like to be called b*tches anymore.

Angela Ali: Yeah, well, b*tches don't like a lot of things, so...

F. Tony Scarapiducci: You know that word originated in the 15th century as a way to demean women who were just trying to express their sexual desires?

Angela Ali: Why do you know that?

F. Tony Scarapiducci: My college gender studies professor made me write a paper about it after I called her a b*tch.

Kiki Rhodes: She sound like a b*tch.

F. Tony Scarapiducci: Hey! Come on. But she was one, two times.

Mark Naird: All right! Let's see what these suits are capable of. Chambers, give me a burpee.

Chambers: Not possible, sir.

Mark Naird: You can't even do a burpee in that thing?

Chambers: I couldn't do one before.

Julio Díaz: I can do one, sir. (burps loudly)

Mark Naird: Oh, my God!

Kick Grabaston: We're going to eat your guts, Nerd, and wipe our a$$es with your skin.

Mark Naird: Oh, really? We're gonna eat your guts and wipe your asses with our skin. (to Mallory): So the game of mental chess has begun.

Adrian Mallory: Hungry Hungry Hippos at best.

(Naird is on the phone with Mallory, all spacemen can hear it...)

Mark Naird: Which will give us the biggest edge?

Adrian Mallory: I'd go with Lockheed.

Mark Naird: Lockheed! Good!

Adrian Mallory: Both are only designed to get the spacesuits back to base after an astronaut is killed. Spacesuits cost millions. Spacemen, rather less.

Mark Naird: All right. Roger that. Over and out. (tries to end the call)

Adrian Mallory: Neither is designed to save the men. The systems are...

Mark Naird: What am I doing?

Adrian Mallory: ...basically high-tech body bags. But the military's ritual slaughter...

Chan Kaifang: It's the one... (helps Naird end the call)

Mark Naird: Oh, there we go. Okay. Phones.

Obie Hanrahan: I'm already kinda sleepy, sir.

Mark Naird: Jesus Christ.

Chan Kaifang: Don't worry. In the field, each one of you will be wearing an exoskeleton.

Mark Naird: What the f**k is that guy's problem? Iron Man pants. You'll be paired with a scientist who can remote-control walk you back to base, whether you're conscious or not.

Julio Díaz: Permission to nap while the pants walk us back, sir?

Mark Naird: No! No napping. Newborns nap. Come on, spaceman.

(Naird opens up and talks to them. When he leaves they discuss one interesting thing he mentioned...)

Dave Powers: Was that sh*t real about the planet-killing laser?

Jerome Lalosz: I'm just hoping it was a metaphor.

Jane Pike: Yeah. It's probably... probably a metaphor.

Dave Powers: Yeah.

(Erin comments on her mom's new hairstyle...)

Erin Naird: I like your...

Maggie Naird: Oh, the cornrows?

Erin Naird: Yeah.

Maggie Naird: Oh, yeah, my roommate did it. Yeah. It's not appropriation when they do it to you.

Mark Naird: So what's the problem?

Adrian Mallory: Three spacemen and a civilian sculptor.

Mark Naird: Jesus. A sculptor? Why?

Adrian Mallory: The personality dynamics are the subject of the experiment. The sculptor's humane creativity is meant to balance the rationality of the astronauts, but now, one week left, one of them has gone...

Mark Naird: Don't say AWOL.

Adrian Mallory: Mad.

Mark Naird: Thank God.

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