Out of Gas

Mal: Not if all you're gonna do is sit around here and whinge about it, no.

Wash: What do you expect me to do, Mal?

Mal: Whatever you have to. And if you can't do it from here, then get a suit on and go outside on the side of the boat...

Wash: And what? Wave my arms around?

Mal: Wave your arms around, jump up and down, divert the nav sats to the transmitter... whatever.

Wash: Divert the... - right! Because teenage pranks are fun when you're about to die!

Mal: It'd give the beacon a boost, wouldn't it?

Wash: Yes, Mal, it would boost the signal, but even if some passerby did happen to receive, all it would do is muck up their navigation.

Mal: Could be that's true.

Wash: Damn right it's true. They'd be forced to stop and dig out our signal before they could even go anyplace... well, maybe I should do that, then!

Mal: Maybe you should!

Wash: Okay!

Mal: Good!

Wash: Fine!

Jayne: Hey! What you two think you're doing? Fightin' at a time like this? You'll use up all the air.