Sweet: The name's Sweet, Joshus Sweet. Medical officer.
Milo: Yeah. Milo Thatch.
Sweet: Milo Thatch, you're my three o'clock! [reaches into his back and pulls out a saw] Well, no time like the present.
Milo: [stares at the saw] Oh boy!
Sweet: Nice, isn't it? The catalogue says that this little beauty can saw through a femur in 28 seconds. I'm betting I can cut that time in half! [puts the saw away and comes out with a tongue depresser] Now, stick out your tongue and say "Ah"!
Milo: Well, I don't-- [gahs then grunts as Sweet puts the stick into his mouth]
Sweet: So where're you from? [Milo grunts something] Really? I have family up that way! Beautiful country up there! You do any fishing?
Milo: Oh...a little...
Sweet: Me? I hate fishing. I hate fish. Hate the taste, hate the smell and I hate all them little bones. [as he speaks he does several things from puting the depresser away to taking Milo's pulse, then finally pulls up two bottles] Here, I'm gonna need you to fill these up.
Milo: [spits] With what?!
Packard: [on tannoy] Would Milo Thatch please report to the bridge?
Milo: Thank you... I mean, nice meeting you. [runs off]
Sweet: [watching Milo run off] U-huh, nice meeting you too.
[Mole watches quietly the whole while]
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