[Christmas Eve. Christmas lights twinkling. Some snow outside. Schmutzie and Palinode are basking in the glow of the holidays. Palinode turns to Schmutzie.]
Palinode: How's the scar on my back looking? [because I had back surgery in November]
Schmutzie: Let's see... it's shaped like a square. Why is that?
Palinode: My surgery scar is square?
Schmutzie: No, that's a vertical stripe. I'm talking about your other scar.
Palinode: I have another scar? Where?
Schmutzie: It's just up and to the left of your surgical one.
Palinode: How long have I had it?
Schmutzie: I don't know. Lots of people have scars on their lower back.
Palinode: I guess that's where the aliens implant their chips.
Schmutzie: Of course...
Palinode: But I'm not talking about microchips. I'm talking about potato chips.
Schmutzie: The aliens implant potato chips in our bodies?
Palinode: The chips are just for starters. They kidnap us when they get a craving. Sometimes they implant Skittles, sometimes they harvest Funyuns.
Schmutzie: I had no idea.
Palinode: They have no infrastructure to produce or store their own junk food.
Schmutzie: So you're saying that we're nothing but snack food repositories for aliens.
Schmutzie: Seems a bit cumbersome, just to get a snack.
Palinode: Oh, they've got a whole system.