Pilot to Nav: listen, pal, I don't care about the mag, and I'll just about tolerate your disgusting habit, but if you ever,
ever again look at me while you're doing it, you're toast. Got it?
or:
Now Prune realised that when the nav had texted him to ask if he'd sanitised the cockpit before the padre's air experience flight, he hadn't been referring to air freshener.
adr