"This is ridiculous!" Disaché says, lifting his hands in frustration.

"What sort of barbaric spacecraft is this that doesn't prioritize the nutritional requirements of its passengers?! Next you'll be telling me to 'tough it out' if these malfunctioning contraptions fail to correctly produce water!"

Honestly, you'd think he was about to starve with all his whining. The plump status of the tail hidden under his tunic suggests otherwise.