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“Lt. Denice Barnum at the helm gave a sigh, then replaced her nail file on the control panel, beside her spray bottle of nail varnish and "like steel" hardener. "Sir?" "What's wrong with this picture?" he said, pointing at his plate. The youth looked. He looked at Marnetti. "Nothing, sir...looks normal to me, sir." "Look again." He looked harder. He squinted. "Sir?" Marnetti sighed. "This is stewed Kwarracks, isn't it, son?" “Yessir." The lad nodded. "Well, as far as I know, Kwarracks is supposed to be dead when you eat it, not so?" "Yessir." He agreed. "This one's still waving its tentacles.” — Christina Engela
Lt. Denice Barnum at the helm gave a sigh, then replaced her nail file on the control panel, beside her spray bottle of nail varnish and "like steel" hardener.
"Sir?"
"What's wrong with this picture?" he said, pointing at his plate. The youth looked. He looked at Marnetti.
"Nothing, sir...looks normal to me, sir."
"Look again." He looked harder. He squinted.
"Sir?"
Marnetti sighed. "This is stewed Kwarracks, isn't it, son?"
“Yessir." The lad nodded.
"Well, as far as I know, Kwarracks is supposed to be dead when you eat it, not so?"
"Yessir." He agreed.
"This one's still waving its tentacles.