Hydrogen: General DeLukas, or as he prefers to be called, Big Gzy D-Bone Kumanawanahua.

Trillaphon: Huh, I guess it's Hawaiian shirt day at Space Marines HQ. Ah, come in Sgt., have a seat. I believe you've already met my orderly Mr. Mustafa and my lovely Bottom Bitch, Lolo.

Hydrogen: SIR, PERMISSION TO HANG LOOSE SIR!

Trillaphon: Permission granted. Now for God's sake get yourself into some Billabong shorts and grab a lava flow before I have you busted back down to taro-picking duty, soldier!

Hydrogen: It's not everyday you see a raging alcoholic who only drinks fruity tiny umbrella cocktails.

Trillaphon: I AM YOUR SENIOR DRILL INSTRUCTOR AND CERTIFIED LIFEGUARD GUNNERY SGT. MOONBEAM, AND THE FIRST AND LAST WORDS OUT OF YOUR FILTHY SEWERS WILL BE BRAH!

Trillaphon: Wait, did he just say that mai tais are "very sweet and very rare"? Because that is pure fucking madness.

Hydrogen: You see, it's the future. The mai tais were wiped out during the Tiki Bar massacre of Molokai VII.

Trillaphon: We lost a lot of good cocktails that day...

Hydrogen: ...what did you do, sir? Back before the war.

Trillaphon: I was a bartender at Applebees, son.

Hydrogen: I'll bet you made a mean Fuzzy Navel, sir.

Trillaphon: You're goddamn right I did soldier. But that was another life.

Hydrogen: Hoo-ah to that, sir.

Trillaphon: Hoo-ah.
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