"That bad, was it?" I thought. "I can do worse." So I mailed her a little slanging match between Vila and Tarrant which I've been keeping for a story I can fit it into. In the meantime I added a lead-in and thought I'd stick it here. It's also a good test of how this lj-cutty-thing works.
A bit of pun
Del Tarrant sat back from the pilot's console and stretched. "Go and get us a hot drink, Vila."
"Who died and made me your slave?"
"Oh, come on. You're a service grade, though I see precious little evidence of it."
Vila glared. "Did you know that the first five letters of your name spell Delta? Was your mum telling you something, then?"
"You leave my mother out of this!" Tarrant said, and added with dignity, "I'll have you know I inherited quite a few features from my father, who was an Alpha through and through!"
"Features? I'd have called 'em bugs meself."
Avon looked up from his latest gadget and smiled.
"I got an A-1 genetic rating!" Tarrant said indignantly.
"Only a rating?" Vila grinned. "I'd have thought you'd get a Fleet officer at least!"
Tarrant frowned, then got it. "Puns are the lowest form of wit, which seems about right for you. You're an ill-educated, lazy, good-for-nothing, undisciplined, spineless little layabout!"
"Oh, listen to him!" Vila put his feet up on his console. "It's a Delta rant!"