Narrator: Meanwhile, 200 kilometers to Kevyn's southeast. . .
Pronto: Assuming this planet is fairly round, and turns on only one axis, we are still headed to where that contrail came from.
Pronto: I've been creating and consulting a star-chart on my flap here, and I'm pretty confident in my sense of direction now.
Schlock: Oh. That's a star chart.
Elf: At least now I know you're not just flashing me.
Schlock: I thought maybe you had a really, really bad rash.
Pronto: My point is that as long as that contrail came from someplace we actually want to go, we are headed in the right direction.
Narrator: Meanwhile, 250 kilometers to Kevyn's northwest. . .
Teff: Good morning! How was the hobby-trip, sir?
Commodore Shufgar: Hobby-trip?!
Commodore Shufgar: I built that primitive jet-turbine aero-craft myself, and then flew it all the way around the planet.
Commodore Shufgar: No civilization, no safety interlocks, and no mid-air refueling! That was no mere hobby-trip! It was a forty-two thousand kilometer statement of my personal might!
Teff: Mmm-Hmmm.
Teff: Was your adventure invigorating, sir?
Commodore Shufgar: I feel refreshed and grouchy.