Beryl's mouth dropped open in utter amazement. "How did... who tol... " She took a breath. "Droyk, Nic! I didn't even mention the word swoop! What, is it like writen on my forehead or something?"
Cloud snickered, and Beryl shot him an evil look. "Don't you even say it!" she said to him. "Not. One. Word."
Cloud held his hands up in surrender, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.
She turned back to Nic. "Ple-eeze," she begged. "It's a limited-edition, Mobquet-Zephyr custom hybrid, with bi-directional thrust nozzles, duel chamber turbo thrusters, and dallorian-alloy engine covers over a Mobquet G3-I repulsorlift engine in Supernova Red. And I promise, no, I swear I won't race it. Ever. I'll just keep it in the cargo bay and rub it down with a polishing cloth til I can see my reflection. Please? Please?"
Veni, Vidi, Velcro. (I came, I saw, I stuck around)