It's you and me, sitting on a sofa. Together.

[He shrugs, as he sinks back into the cushy embrace of the overstuffed sofa, his legs stuck out in front of him, taking up too much room.]

It's like an anti-plan. A very sound lack of plan. We're going to sit here and wait for row-bots, and no one's going to do any work for at least ten minutes. Unless an emergency comes up and then of course we're out in the corridors faster'n you can say 'arrrgh manticores with tentacles'.