‘Where are they?’
‘Who?’
‘Not who, what -my keys!’
‘Wherever you left them, it’s not my job to know where they are.’
‘It should be. You took a vow to honour and obey. Surely that includes helping me with the most basic of tasks.’
‘I don’t like your tone, I’m not your mother.’
‘Well I could do with a bit more help, did you put out the bins?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because they’re not due for collection till Wednesday. Sometimes I wonder about you skipper. The board at Starfleet must’ve been drunk when they gave you command of a Starship.’
An Roinn Ultra - Irish Science Fiction 