"Fuck, man, I don't know. Time barely fuckin' means anything in here. Should make a new unit of time while we're in here. The glaarp. Three glaarps in a gorm, five gorms is the time it takes to jog from bow to stern."

All of which is offered with the sort of light humour of a man who has done his fair share of improv comedy before.

"Still, you're not missing much. Language was a mistake, and writing shit down is worse."