[Paul's eyes go wide, he chokes on an invisible bit of nothing - and he laughs, a wide, delighted sound that bubbles out of him like a hot spring from a cracked stone. He throws a hand across his mouth to muffle himself, shaking his head.]

I should have known better.

[He really should have. There are some associations of form so obvious that they should be assumed to be cross-cultural in all cases. The doubled meaning of anything even vaguely tube-like - well.]

Those worms don't have teeth. [A small, thoughtful pause.] Or I hope they don't. It is by the docks, and you know how the sailors here get.