Sam
What is going on with your feet?
Spray-On Shoes. They, uh, don't come off.
Sam
Cool! [drags Flint's foot to see it] This could solve the Untied Shoes epidemic! What are they made of, some kind of elastic biopolymer adhesive?
Yeah. Exactly.
Sam
I mean... [giggles nervously] Wow, they're shiny. I'm Sam. [lets go of Flint's foot]
Flint.
Steve
Steve!
Sam
Is that a Monkey Thought Translator?
Steve
Steve.
Sam
Incredible! Did you make all of this stuff? [gasps in realized shock of anger] You hit me with a rocket!
You kicked me in the face!
Sam
I said I was sorry! [as she continues talking some yellow goop splats on the ladder and a pickle slice lands in the water] Oh! Do you know how hard it is to break into the weather game? I spent my entire life building up to that moment. You get one shot at the show, [something falls out of the sky and lands in a can] and if you don't make it, it's, back to cleaning the barometers?
Cheese? [reaches his hand out to grab it and a ratbird appears from the shadows and flies away out of the can, taking the cheese] But that could only mean… [turns and looks up into the sky and gasps]
