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  • Orla: Why do I have to make you a uniform? I'm no tailor.
  • Cuddow: ... The captain felt that you, as the ship's xenobiologist, would be the closest thing for a Fillipod.
  • Orla: I'm not even sure what to... measure on you.
  • Cuddow: Oh, indeed! How does one take the measure of a man?
  • Orla: No, I mean... where do I make the pants... go??
  • Cuddow: Oh! Ha ha ha! I have no idea! I've never worn pants! It's all very exciting.
  • Orla: You don't wear clothes?
  • Cuddow: Never! But I look forward to my new fabricatory flourish! Sarongs to sashay in! Sashes for sartorial songs!
  • Orla: Cuddow, it's just a uniform.
  • Cuddow: ... Uniformly wonderful.