Yeah, yeah. [over his shoulder as he goes to demand his swords none too politely from the last guard. At least the guy doesn't cower back from him, he's got some spirit in him.] Lucky for both of us that they'll let me kick your ass.

[maybe that's laying it on a bit heavier than it needs to be. He turns around with everything settled in place, brushing off his t-shirt.]

Heh. Wasn't even thinking of that, but looks like the phones didn't come with us. Uh... [it only then occurs to him that maybe the cook doesn't remember a jaunt in futurespacecolony. Maybe? But that remark is a good enough test, as is the dumb t-shirt itself with Vietnam's handmade haramaki.]