[On Star Trek maybe. Live long and prosper, child.

The whole show she's putting on isn't doing much to convince him that's not talking literally, either. She does look like a baby version of Captain Kirk's many paramours. And her huffing, her abject misunderstanding of cheese? Those are all certified deal clinchers.

He grins.] Damn, good guess! They make it out of the leftover lint and debris. Waste not want not, am I right?

[Nimble fingers swipe a slice from her pile of offerings and he eats it whole, right then and there.]

What's a deca-feebie? Ten of something, right?