[the alien creature turns around to reveal what looks like spherical buttocks]

Harry Block:
[grinning]
Ira, look at that backside! Theater in the round. That's the kind of trunk space you want in a late-model car. Who does that remind you of?
Ira Kane:
I've no idea what you're talking about.
Harry Block:
She's been throwing it at you enough.
Ira Kane:
[incredulously]
Dr. Reed?
Harry Block:
Bull's-eye.
[Cut to the Ops Room]

Lt. Cryer:
Excuse me, Dr. Reed, did you authorize a walk-through?
Dr. Allison Reed:
No. Why?
Lt. Cryer:
Um, you should probably take a look at something. Here.
[On the computer screen, they see and hear Block teasing:]

Harry Block:
That's the kind of rump you want to roast! The kind of muffin you'd like to butter!
Ira Kane:
That is, that is a nice image. And I appreciate your assumption that there is an actual sexual human being underneath all Dr. Reed's deep-seated neuroses, but I don't think so.
Harry Block:
What?
Ira Kane:
Yeah. I think she is a humorless ice queen.
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 08:00

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