Guess I'm just a good man.

Well, glad that's over.

I think I oughta say thanks to Dr. Lewis and everyone else who worked on a cure, 'cause like half of you are sayin', it ain't like we wardens could've waved our hands and made it all go away. [Mal, harboring quite a bit of secret sympathy for the inmates? No way.]

And Ariadne's gone home.

[To friends ("one friendly conversation" rule applies):]
Keepin' on?

[Private to kitchen staff:]
Still need another hand chopping up vegetables?

[Private to the Admiral]

Natasha Romanoff's ready for her Bite back – no idea what it looks like but it's some kind of taser. Is there any way you can rig it so it don't work on me?

And suppose I asked you why another warden's here. How bad are the chances that you'd tell me?

Afternoon, folks. – Evenin', now. [The man on screen clears his throat and nods in greeting, a little awkwardly. (And no, he's not actually wearing a floral bonnet. Today.)] This Admiral fella wanted a handful o' help and thought I was the man to give it so wǒ zài zhèlǐ. Name's Captain Reynolds, Mal if you ain't one to stand on ceremony. I'm sure it's fine to meet you all, and if it ain't, you go ahead an' let me know. [There's a smile purely for the sake of decorum, which drops off his face almost immediately as his eyes rake over something off-screen, as if reading.]

Let's see what we got here, then... Prison ship, eight levels and two additional restricted areas, complete with library, common rooms, medbay, an' my personal favorite, fully stocked kitchen. Probably serves better'n protein too. Laundry services, showers, art therapy facilities, and gardens included. Now that don't sound like any prison I ever been to. Hell, y'all even got a bar? Got quite a slick operation here, real nice 'n cozy.

But it still ain't as good as my boat.