Friends often ask me about the witty banter in my office. “What philosophical debate and discussion you geniuses must ponder! It must be like QI in there!” they often declare. Well, if you would like an example of a typical conversation with my super-cerebral workmates, then I can provide! Here is a fairly typical conversation (overheard just this morning) concerning Deep Space Nine:
“You know that Dax?”
“Her with the leopard-skin arse? Nice!”
“Yeah, that’s her. She has memories of old hosts, doesn’t she? People she used to be?”
“Yep, that’s right.”
“And in some of those, she was a man?”
There is a moment’s quiet reflection.
“So she must know exactly what a man wants, then? No need to give her hints if she’s not … y’know … gripping … quite right?”
“(wistfully) She could please like no other. I reckon Worf knew what he was doing, eh?”
“You’d think he’d seem happier, wouldn’t you?”
Coming next: in-depth discussion on exactly why Mrs Odo (should there ever be one) would certainly be bow-legged and happy about it, and why a transporter accident involving Seven of Nine and two large bags of Silicone would constitute two large handfulls of FABULOUS.