You know what, I hope he is. I hope Zip is on Mars just having orgies constantly and sitting on a lounge chair buck naked with a cigar watching the Earth explode.

[Pratt's pretty sure he turned into a fine red mist trying to use said teleporter, but hey, if he didn't maybe he's having himself a grand time.]

Weird. You'd think everyone would have an upper and a downer. The one you smoke when you're cramming for a test or need to clean your entire house in a day, and the one to recover from that shit and zone out into another plane of existence. [World's best cop right here who's definitely done all of that. He leans against the wall waiting for the elevator to come back.] Maybe it's better though, maybe they live in places that have ten different kinds of E.