“Maybe if I can skimp off the paperwork.”
”Fair enough. …Ice cream? My treat.”
"Being told what to do, when to do it, where to do it, and sometimes… sometimes there’s-“
"—there’s paperwork involved.”
”And sometimes— even with all that— it’s fun.”
"You have to consider that your definition of “job” and my definition of “job” might not exactly be the same thing.”
”What’s your definition then?”
"—Worked for UNIT, might have been more accurate. Consult occasionally still. Kate doesn’t exactly pay me.”
”Mmhmm, yeah. Okay. Definitely called it a job though. Several times. I seem to remember needing some convincing.”
"—Uh. Well. I mean, you’re the one with the job.”
”Whatever happened to ‘I have a job. I work for UNIT.’ Hmm?”
"How about ice cream Thursdays, then?"
"You and me, right now. Want some?"
”Oh, who could say no to ice cream? You buying?”
"I’m not saying to let them do whatever they want… but what could ice cream Mondays hurt?”
”Yes— no— I don’t know. Probably isn’t happening though. —Stop making that face.”
"I dunno, I learned quite a bit while eating ice cream instead of going to class.”
”But— seeing as I’m the teacher and I would probably lose my job if I fed the kids ice cream and let them do whatever it is they wanted…”
"—They’re kids. How tough can they be? Give them an ice cream cone and they’re happy.” Or maybe that’s just him.
”They’re teenagers, not five. Besides, they’re there to learn, Doctor. Not eat ice cream.”