I 'ad a working theory at one time that it were a plot cooked up by a sentient cabbage hivemind, but I were working undercover at a nunnery at the time. You start getting funny ideas when you're tit-deep in the 'orrible green buggers and you're three solar systems away from a good pub.

Month short of two years. I love it 'ere, meself. I'm getting the feeling you might and all, Luna, love. Unparalleled opportunities for an enquiring mind, this place.