Meeting room site undisclosed: somehow we missed the instructions and have landed instead over there.
That's Mitch, he insists on being called a quadroon instead of squadron leader and so far no one has corrected him because he's also scary.
No one brought enough ice cream for everyone and I know I will be left out.
This implant will enable you to transmit your coordinates whether or not you're conscious and I don't care if you're 'anti-vax' we're fucking putting it in your neck.
No cell reception out here; we need a better satellite.
Brian wants to make first contact and he imagines it will be all sort of awkward, like bumping into a beautiful woman at a party, relying upon charm to save the situation.
Injury du jour: torn rotator cuff.
Motherfucker thinks he's funny, he keep saying "brought to you by" and then some dumbass made-up company like "sticky's licorice" or "cream's corn dogs."
How did they know there was an invasion I mean we can barely figure out whether some rock the size of Manhattan is about to hit us and you're talking about an other-worldly alien invasion.
Computer says "holes in dimensional fabric spotted over Albuquerque," prompting at least half the squad to make Bugs Bunny jokes.
Teeth are grit - gritted - gret? - what's the past tense of "to grit"?
Invaders burst into our reality, then fall from the sky in the shape of teardrops, evaporating before hitting the ground.
"No one was expecting that," Mitch says, "it's a bit of a let-down."
Instant congressional hearing - those toys cost the taxpayers a lot of money!
Mitch pats his back & tells him, "You would've kicked their asses - if they had had asses."
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