[Sully smiles at her, appreciating the fact that she didn't chastise him for losing his edge briefly. He leaned over and grabbed a cigar from the small pile on his bed side table. Even unlit, chomping on one of them always eased him.]

I love your optimism there, sweetheart. But I can't see the big wigs around here letting my fly around in whatever bird I could get my hands on... Hell, I can't even see anyone here having access to one. Besides... aren't they all flying hover cars or something nowadays? ...Not really my bag... Hah, if we could get a plane, as well as Flynn off our backs, we'd be set...