Owain: Halt! Who goes there?!
Brady: Halt? You're the one who just walked in. I ain't goin' nowheres.
Owain: A fine parry, sirrah. And yet, here you stand in garb most strange. Speak, fiend! What nefarious plot are you hatching here?!
Brady: What, ya mean here in the kitchen? Dressed like a chef?
Owain: A surcoat and crown of purest white... What strange rituals are—
Brady: It's an apron and a chef's hat, idiot! I'm cookin' dinner! Even you can't be that dense. Now quit wasting my time.
Owain: Cooking? You? Dinner? Ha! I'd sooner believe a cavalier riding a pegasus over the moon!
Brady: Aw, I ain't got time for this malarkey! Look, tonight's my turn, all right? Now make like some eggs and beat it! You're gonna ruin the flavor.
Owain: I will not be deceived by such deceits! What manner of madman would allow you a turn at cooking for the camp?
Brady: I'm a fine cook, all right! I learned from my dear ol' ma! So just... *sniff* G-Get off my back!
Owain: Whoa...um, are you crying?
Brady: N-No! *sniff* ...And you're slipping out of character.
Owain: Brady, you are totally crying!
Brady: L-Leave me alone! I was just cuttin' up taters, all right?!
Owain: Don't you mean onions? I don't think there's anything in potatoes that—
Brady: I JUST FELT BAD FOR 'EM, OKAY?! Now make like my pants and split!
Owain: Fine, fine. I'm going.