[Milo goes into his cabin and lies on his bunk; a pair of telescopic eyes looks at him]
You have disturbed the dirt.
Uh, pardon me?
You have disturbed the dirt! [Pulls off blanket, exposing clumps of dirt with little European flags] Dirt from around the globe, spanning the centuries! Ack! What have you done?! England must never merge with France!
What's it doing in my bed?!
You ask too many questions! Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up!
Me, I'm, uh-
Bah! I will know soon enough!
Do not be such a crybaby! Hold still! [takes a tiny dirt sample from Milo's fingernail with tweezers] Aha! There you are! Now tell me your story, my little friend. [looks at dirt with his magnifying goggles] Parchment fibre from the Nile Delta circa 500 B.C., lead pencil No. 2, paint flecks of a type used in government buildings, you have a cat, short hair Persian, two years old, third in a litter of seven. These are all the microscopic fingerprints of the mapmaker... [licks dirt] and linguist.
Hey, how'd you...
[throws Milo's bags and jacket at him]
This is an outrage! You must leave at once! Out-out-out-out-out! [tries to push Milo out of cabin; they bump into Joshua Sweet]
Uh-oh. Sat in the dirt, didn't you? Molière, now what have I told ya about playing nice with the other kids?! [holds up a bar of soap] Get back! I got soap, and I'm not afraid to use it! [Mole hisses at the soap bar and runs to his bed. Sweet whips his towel at him] Back, foul creature! Back into the pit from whence you came! [to Milo] The name's Sweet; Joshua Sweet. Medical officer.
Yeah. Milo Thatch.
Milo Thatch, you're my three o'clock! [reaches into his back and pulls out a saw] Well, no time like the present.
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 depressor] Now, stick out your tongue and say "Ah"!
Oh, no, really, I- [Sweet puts tongue depressor in his mouth] Ahhgabla!
So, where're you from? [Milo grunts something] Really? I have family up that way! Beautiful country up there! You do any fishing?
Oh...a little...
Me? I hate fishing, I hate fish, hate the taste, hate the smell and hate all of them little bones. [as he speaks, he does several things from putting the depressor away to taking Milo's pulse, then finally pulls up two bottles] Here, I'm gonna need you to fill these up.
[on PA]
Would Milo Thatch please report to the bridge?
Thank you...I mean, nice meeting you. [runs off]
