[Fooker stares up at the Gamester, who looms menacingly over him.]
Fooker: [To Mischief] Where do you work, a circus...?

[The Gamester gestures and a naked Fooker, who is quivering and trying to cover his groin, rises to hover in the air. Mischief covers herself with a sheet.]
The Gamester: Mischief... care to explain this?
Mischief: He... followed me home?

[The Gamester appears stern while turning to Mischief.]
The Gamester: You know this form of conduct is not permitted...
Mischief: [Suddenly turning defiant] Of course it's not permitted! Nothing fun around here is permitted!

[Mischief's face, with a determined expression is shown.]
Mischief: I've spent eons studying this and learning that. I haven't had a nanosecond of fun since they assigned me to you! When I'm not repairing holes in timelines or balancing interdimensional fluxes, you have me watching boring time paradoxes, waiting for them to crack! I don't have time to study, much less some time to enjoy myself! Can't I have just one day off? One this millennium?