“So I hear you like curries.”
“That’s not funny. You know I hate how space erodes your sensitivity to taste.”
“Fair enough. The rations, which are, by the way, spicy precisely to counter that effect, hit the spot for me, at least. It’s too bad there isn’t more to go around.”
“It’s a long flight and every gram counts. Cut it with water.”
“Ugh. I hate drinking our own rad shielding.”
“The rubbery taste is a bit off-putting, I’ll grant. But the ammonic tang of lightly reprocessed piss isn’t any better.”
“True enough. Pass the water. And also the aloo matar.”
Ed note: c.f. spacecoach concept IRL.