Thank you kindly for the tasty barbeque dinner you shuttled over in the Tau's earlier this evening. The pulled pork was delicious, though my attempts to save some for later were less than fruitful. Pushing the pulled pork does not seem to revert it back to its original porcine form, unless pigs are much squishier and sauce covered than I was lead to believe. On the other hand (the one not covered in sauce) this does support the laws of thermodynamics, namely that the game is a one way street. The implacable march towards heat death is as certain as death, taxes, and never having a moist towelette around when you need one.

I left a glowing review for you in Shasta. One pilgrim gave his collection of fireflies to the cause and we squished them with our fingers and wrote "Beefmaster" on the hanger doors.
It should continue to fluoresce for a day or so and still be visible under blacklight for much longer. Though I imagine taking a blacklight to Shasta would make it light up like downtown Manhattan on New Year's Eve, so it might get lost in all the competition. Solution: Find a way to black out downtown Manhattan on New Year's so things show up better.

You have made this pilot very happy and the peaches very jealous. Their time will come, oh yes, it will come. But not today. Today I suck the cow flesh from the ribs in a socially acceptable fashion for a change. I will be sure to return the probe next time our paths cross. In the meantime, I have promoted it to third officer having concluded that it is neither the worst nor the best. Only time will tell if it grows chest hair or finds a stash of pirate gold. Either way, really.