Transcription

[[Ki continues reading Trish's journal, coming to an interview with Fooker. He sits casually in his chair, with an arm thrown over the back and one ankle propped up on the opposite knee.]]
Fooker: I won't even pretend to understand all that sci-fi mumbo jumbo Nick spouts. He may be my best bud, but he uses more technobabble than an episode of "Star Trek: Voyager".

Fooker: I ain't got a clue where Earth went. It could be stuck in God's belly button lint for all I care. I know I got turned into a porcupine once, so maybe there ARE alternate realities.

Fooker: [Turning serious] Look, I'll level with ya. I ain't holdin' out for a miracle. If anybody can bring the Earth back, it's Nick. But I ain't holdin' my breath. It's been how many months now?

Fooker: [Relaxing] Nah, I don't blame him. He did the best he could with what he had. The Earth was toast if he did nothin', and now there's a chance--a slim one--we'll get it back. Nickster rocks.