ZAPP: Well, no need for formalities here. I'm a Level 10 Battleship Commander. What are you? I don't even want to shake your hand.
VLADIMIR: What? Good god, what are you wearing? I can smell your ballsweat!
ZAPP: Consider it a privilege, Commander. Seven out of ten aliens die with the first whiff... I mean, the unsexy non-female ones, that is.
VLADIMIR: Why are you bothering me at breaktime?
ZAPP: In space, Commander, there is no said 'breaktime'. There are star systems to conquer, planets to crush, indigenous alien women to enslave. In between it all, I occasionally retire to my gold-lined bathtub and take a steaming, sensual bath... with my underlings standing beside me serving me breakfast.
VLADIMIR: State your business here.
ZAPP: A little touchy today, are we? I was given the humiliating task of interviewing a lesser officer. Well, let's make this quick and snappy.
vLADIMIR: What are you interviewing me about?
ZAPP: It's an interview, don't ask questions.
VLADIMIR: (No response)
ZAPP: You seem to be the uncooperative type, Commander. I don't like your type.
VLADIMIR: Well, what do you like?
ZAPP: I enjoy watching my female contingents embark on deadly suicide missions.
VLADIMIR: Last I checked they didn't allow females in the military. They must've made an exception for you.
ZAPP: Ah, subtle use of a pun. The insolent fool's last resort.
VLADIMIR: That was sarcasm, not a pun.
ZAPP: Quiet Commander! I'll do the interrogating here.
VLADIMIR: I thought this was an interview?
ZAPP: It's whatever I want it to be. Learn to bend the rules, and the rules will bend to you. Bend 45 degrees, then 90 degrees, oh she will squirm.
VLADIMIR: She? What?
ZAPP: You haven't had much experience in the field, have you Commander? I should have you demoted at once.
VLADIMIR: Why do you keep calling me Commander?
ZAPP: Fine, I'll call you the Captain's Cook.
VLADIMIR: I AM the Captain's Cook. The Commander is upstairs taking a luxurious bath with his underlings standing beside him serving him breakfast.
ZAPP: Damn! Fooled yet again with a simple lie. I commend him on his effort, and I admit defeat. Well, time to abandon ship. Where is the escape pod, underling?
VLADIMIR: There are no escape pods on this ship. Everyone dies at the same time, when our Hull HP reaches zero.
ZAPP: Underling, your technical jargon confuses and upsets me. And... I can't stop looking at that hideous scar on your face. How could you let that happen to yourself, soldier?
VLADIMIR: Well, we were under attack by a Vasari fleet, and as I rushed to go hide in the closet, I tripped, my shoe flew off, and at that instant, the ship's artificial gravity malfunctioned and somehow my shoe flew in an arc, came back around and hit me in the face. I got a pretty severe nosebleed.
ZAPP: Well, obviously your first mistake was wearing that shoe in the first place. In my ship, we only wear the finest boots made of only the most sensual velour.
VLADIMIR: Is your miniskirt also made of velour?
ZAPP: Who wants to know?
VLADIMIR: I think I'm going to leave now.
ZAPP: Good, I didn't want to talk to you anyway. Don't forget, it was I who crushed the Infant Rebellion on Planet Maternity Ward, it was I who exterminated the Hostile Ant Colony on Zoid 10, it was I who successfully applied a Band-Aid to a minor scrape on my left shoulder in the heat of battle on Easter Island. You shouldn't be allowed the privilege of groveling at my left toenail.
VLADIMIR: Good day to you, sir. By the way, you should get yourself checked out.
ZAPP: I do, soldier, more often than you realize.
