Faraday: Okay, I've had it wif these shades, Maxie.
It's been, like, elebenty weeks now.
Faraday: Do you has any idea how long that is in cat years?!
Maxwell: Well, to be precise, the aging scale of a cat is not linear. It's more of a—
Faraday: Seriouslies, Maxie? At a time like this, you wanna do
maths an' stuffs?
Faraday:
Here's a math problem for you, Maxie. How many minutes do you think it'd take me to shred —
Maxwell: All right, all right. Move back, let me just take a few measurements here. Let's see now, the shade begins at precisely 7.5 centimeters from the floor ....
Faraday: *sigh-h-h*
Maxwell: And I see the sun is at an azimuth of 140 degrees east of north....
Faraday: *
heavy sigh* Just wake me when you need something shredded, 'k Maxie?
Maxwell: *
mutter*mutter* That's two hundred thirteen centimeters, give or take.
And I can reach about ... uh ... ninety.
Maxwell: So if Faraday can reach eighty-five, and Allie can reach ninety-six, that's uh ....
Maxwell: Uh, dood, how badly do you want your sunpuddles?
Think you can talk Allie into letting you stand on her shoulders?
Faraday: We're so screwed.
Maxwell: Yup.