Craig: Whoever invented this stuff must have had stomach trouble; a very bitter character with no compassion for his fellow man or their stomachs. Well, there may come a moment in time when I'll enjoy this.
Fletcher: "There may come a moment in time" when you'll lick a rock as if it were the drumstick of a Thanksgiving turkey! But for the time being, buddy, you'll eat what is prescribed to eat! And if you've got any set of deep-rooted complaints, you put 'em down in a ledger somewhere, don't spray 'em all over me! It's a waste of effort. It's also dull, and it's tough to live with! You read me, Craig?
Craig: (unimpressed) Loud and clear.
Fletcher: Then dwell on it! And while you're dwelling on it, you might count a few blessings. Now we don't have much food or water, that's a fact. But we landed in a place where there's oxygen, and we can survive. We walked away from it without a single bone out of place. Now, the standing order is as follows: you got tears to shed, save them for night and weep them into your pillow. don't bother me with them! Now how do you read me?
Craig: (sarcastic) Still loud and clear, Commander.