The man with the journal wasn't the only one annoyed by outside noises. As the slow, slightly disjointed speech in the background filtered through the beeps and boops of Scott's pixellated adventure, the first words on the tip of Scott's tongue were: "Hey, cool it, Shatner. Some of us are trying to concentrate." Except he didn't actually say that. Thankfully, Scott's increasingly well-trained fourth wall alarm blared in his ear before he could, and his thick eyebrows shot up. Wait. Didn't someone say... That he was around...?

His thumb smacked down on the pause button. Ever so subtly (read: not very subtly), Scott peered up over the top of the Game Boy, gaze drifting toward the sound of the voice. However, he didn't see anyone familiar-looking. All he saw was another young man staring at him and giving him the standard "turn down the damn game" look. Nothing unusual there. But no sign of the owner of that signature voice. Huh.

"Hey, you didn't just hear someone say something about stardates, did you?" Scott asked the random stranger, who was probably from some dollar-bin horror movie of the week (seriously, man, could you get any more unfamiliar looking?).