".... We're getting some potatoes," Sparkle decreed. "I have no freaking clue what we're doing with them yet, but it's happening."

Because potatoes.

"Maybe next time we bring the scanner," he added, wryly. "Because making dinner probably shouldn't involve a game of Russian roulette, but with seasonings instead of a partly loaded gun."

Probably. But what did Sparkle know? Like half the things in this galaxy were probably out to kill someone at any given moment anyway.