To boldly go

Int: Bridge of Spaceship. CAPT GRANT, a human, is speaking to NARNON, a blue hairy alien type; use your imagination. They are both sitting.

CAPT: So, what makes you feel you'd be right as a pilot?

NARNON: I'm a splendid communicator Captain Grant. I'm conversant in 400 languages including text speak and illiterate facebook chav.

CAPT: Oh, really? I could never get my head around it at the academy.

NARNON: It's not that complicated really. You just swap i's for y's and end every sentence with 'innit blud' and you're halfway there.

CAPT: It says here that you were almost part of the Technotronic Galaxial Royal Family.

NARNON: Yes. I was due to marry Princess Mardiothon but I just couldn't go through with it.

CAPT: Why ever not man?! Think of the money, the power, the pan, the van, the Boursin. Besides, I heard technotrons can do strange and wonderful things with their third inmurpredates.

NARNON: (beat) There will be things I'll miss about her but it would never have worked. The whole family support Accrington Stanley.

CAPT: Accrington Stanley? Who are they?

NARNON: A shit football team from the Northwest of England....originally. But now, they are part of the Neo-scouse Religious Soccer league. Games last days. Cars are ceremonially left on bricks and it's frowned upon if you don't chant (in scouse accent) 'Exactly' over and over again. I just couldn't do it anymore.

CAPT: So how did you get out of it then?

NARNON: Oh, I just whistled the tune to Please Release Me until she asked what I was singing. Then I sang her chorus while giving her the finger. I still have bruises on my dwarfinin.

CAPT: So, do you want the job.

NARNON: Don't you need to see any credentials. You've not asked if I can fly the thing yet.

CAPT: Fly? This is Transport for Pluto, Pal. We're on strike till next year. You'll have plenty of time to learn. Welcome aboard comrade.