***
IK: Alright, I'll be in directly, Mr Solo can stay here and rest up a bit.
AW: Rest? Rest what for?
IK: He was run over by a truck.
NS: A large truck.
IK: A small truck.
AW: I see. Well I suppose that means we shall have to reimburse him for still one more suit of clothes this month. We're not made of money you know.
***
NS: How's your headache?
IK: Nicely throbbing thank you.
***
AW: Wear a less expensive suit this time will you?
***
IK: The Trumpet player.
Whittaker: He attacked me.
IK: You bet I did. Listen that man is...
MP: Knock it off fella. You don't go around striking an officer in this outfit.
IK: Listen if you will take both of us to your Commanding Officer.
MP: What's your name fella? And what are you doing in a restricted corridor, huh?
IK: My name is Illya Kuryakin and I am a member of the U.N.C...
MP: Kuryakin? That's a pretty weird name Kuryakin. Where're you from fella? What unit? Recite the chain of command.
IK: Good grief.
MP: Alright take him to detention.
***
IK: Look here my friend...
MP: Sir.
IK: Look here, sir, chow has been over for twenty minutes.
MP: Look I called security twice already. They'll get back to me when they can and until they do you just keep it buttoned up okay fella. Here have some coffee.
IK: It keeps me awake.
***
IK: (Looking at Napoleon's ruined trousers.) Mr Waverly is gonna love that.
