Dig

Maggie Robbins:
Do you have a name?

The Creator:
I had a name once, when I was alive. But now that I am again and again dead, what need have I for names? My body is now so ancient, that the Crystal scarcely holds any power over me. I rise for a few minutes, and then I fall again. Soon, I shall cease to rise at all. Only then will my grief end. I want no name or memory to live after me.

Boston Low:
Have you seen this boy?

Brink:
I don't care if you have to cut off my hand, just don't leave me to die here!

Maggie Robbins:
Don't be so dramatic Brink; nobody is going to cut off your hand.

Boston Low:
Don't make promises you might not be able to keep Maggie.

Boston Low:
Brink, don't make me hurt you.

Brink:
You won't hurt me when you're dead!

Boston Low:
Did you do anything to attract that monster to you?

Maggie Robbins:
I don't wear perfume, and heaven knows this outfit isn't exactly alluring. I was just sitting there.

Boston Low:
I guess that's enough.

Maggie Robbins:
That's usually enough for lonely men in bars.

Brink:
Your name will go down in history as the boneheaded space idiot who destroyed precious data at the first alien archeological site.

Boston Low:
That's better than having my name go down in history as the commander of a space expedition that disappeared and was never heard from again.

Brink:
What, you think this is wwhere aliens end up when they die? If it is, then this place better be hell, because it sure isn't my idea of heaven.

Boston Low:
So this is what failure feels like.

Boston Low:
Maggie! I found you!

Maggie Robbins:
I wasn't aware that I was missing.

Brink:
Come here, you phlegm-carapaced, slime-faced, mucus-brained, furry legged abductor of luminously intelligent but pulchritudinous Earth women!

Boston Low:
There are some things Man was not meant to understand.

Maggie Robbins:
Yeah, but this one even Woman is having a hard time with.