See? It looks like a rabid chipmunk baying at the moon.
Madam, you allege to be a scientist.
You know I try to keep that out of my private life.
I have noticed. What is the purpose of this expedition?
You've got to be joking. Moonlight. Warm scented earth.
Rabid chipmunks.
Ha. Don't step on my lines, Boss. It's really a very nice bush.
You wish to make love beneath it?
If you wouldn't mind.
I have no objections.
Anyone ever tell you you're not the poetic type.
I try to keep that out of my private life.
Cute. Let's call our first born Alvin.
As much as I love you, my wife, I think not.
Theodore?
*Sigh.* Perhaps.
Spock!
Although Simon is a more proper Vulcan name.
Shut up and take off your clothes.
Nor are you the poetic type.
I didn't start this. No, I did, didn't I?
As usual.
Shall we get back to the purpose of this expedition?
The bush? My mind has never left it. Shall we proceed?
I love it when you talk like that.
I know.