Schlock: Breya, the Creeth Ambassador smells wrong.
Breya: Wrong how?
Schlock: He smells like he's burning.
Breya: Burning what? Top secret documents? Twentieth-century nicotine-spiked cigarettes?
Schlock: No. Burning himself. He smells like lit cannon fuse in a honey-almond marinade.
Breya: Maybe he had the chili at lunch.
Schlock: Maybe the Creethlings are trying the old exploding ambassador trick.
Breya: Or maybe you had the chili at lunch.