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: I've got it! All twelve star signs. What's yours, Lynda? Lynda Day
: Haemoglobin. Frazz Davis
: Haemo... haemoglobin? Kenny Phillips
: Have you got tarmac? Frazz Davis
: Tarmac? Sarah Jackson
: How 'bout zinc? Julie Craig
: Or helium? Danny McColl
: What about carbohydrate?
: Lynda, I've had a thought... Lynda Day
: Lie down. It will go away.
: What do we have, Frazz? We must have something. Frazz Davis
: Well, I've got a comb and I've got some chewing gum. Spike Thomson
: Yeah, we could always try bribery.
: [Frazz is writing the horoscopes, yet he does not know all of the star signs
] Cancer? Frazz Davis
: [Rubs chin
] Nah, I think it's just spots.
: Plague of zombie rats? Are you sure? Frazz Davis
: Zombie rats, yeah. That's if you're a Pisces. Mr. Vader
: Well, I don't hold much stock in astrology myself. Frazz Davis
: Nah, neither do I. Lynda wanted me to do an astrology column, but I said, y'know, I'd rather do the horoscopes. She didn't seem to mind.