Match the words to the sentences

bed, dirt, fish, meeting, minutes, out, soap, time, tongue, wrote

WHITMORE: Pretty impressive, eh?

MILO: Boy, when you settle a bet, y-you settle a bet.

WHITMORE: Well, your granddad always believed, you couldn't put a price on the pursuit of knowledge.

MILO: Well, uh, believe me,  this'll be small change compared to the value of what we're going to learn on this trip.

ROURKE: Yes, this should be enriching for all of us.

PACKARD: Attention, all personnel. Launch will commence in 15 (1)__________________.

ROURKE: Mr. Whitmore.

WHITMORE: Rourke.

ROURKE: It's (2)__________________.

MILO: Bye, Mr. Whitmore!

WHITMORE: Make us proud, boy!

DIVING OFFICER: Rig ship for dive!

CHIEF OF THE WATCH: Aye, sir! Rig ship for dive.

ROURKE: Lieutenant, take her down.

HELGA: Diving officer, submerge the ship. Make the depth 1-5-0 feet.

DIVING OFFICER: Make the depth 1-5-0 feet.

INTERCOM: Dive, dive! Five degrees down bubble.

DIVING OFFICER: Take us down.

[Warning alarm buzzes]

PACKARD: Attention. Tonight's supper will be baked beans. Musical program to follow. [Sighs] Who (3)__________________this?

MILO: Aah!

MOLIERE: You have disturbed the (4)__________________.

MILO: Uh, pardon me?

MOLIERE:  You have disturbed the dirt! Dirt from around the globe, spanning the centuries! [Gasps] What have you done? England must never merge with France!

MILO: What's it doing in my (5)__________________?

MOLIERE: You ask too many questions. Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up!

MILO: Me? I'm, uh...

MOLIERE: Bah! I will know soon enough.

MILO: Hey, hey, hey! Let go!

MOLIERE: Do not be such a crybaby. Hold still. Aha! There you are. Now tell me your story, my little friend. Parchment fiber from the Nile Delta circa 500 B. C. Lead pencil, number 2. Paint flecks of a type used in government buildings. You have a cat, short-haired Persian… two years old, third in a litter of seven. These are all the microscopic fingerprints of the mapmaker. And linguist.

MILO: Hey, how did you...

MOLIERE: This is an outrage! You must leave at once! Out, out, out, out, (6)__________________!

SWEET: Uh-oh. Sat in the dirt, didn't you? Moliere, now what have I told you about playing nice with the other kids? Get back. I've got (7)__________________, and I'm not afraid to use it. [Moilere Hisses] Back, foul creature! Back to the pit from which you came! [Moilere Grunts] The name's Sweet. Joshua Sweet. Medical officer.

MILO: Uh, Milo Thatch.

SWEET: Milo Thatch. You're my 3 o’clock. Well, no time like the present.

MILO: Oh, boy.

SWEET: Nice, isn't it? The catalog says that this little beauty can saw through a femur in 28 seconds. I'm betting I can cut that time in half. Now, stick out your (8)__________________ and say "ahh."

MILO: Oh, no, really, I have a... Aah.

SWEET: So, where you from? [Milo Grunts] Really? I have family up that way. Beautiful country up there. Do you do any fishing? [Garbled speech from Milo] Me? I hate fishing. I hate (9)__________________. Hate the taste, hate the smell, and hate all them little bones. Here, I'm going to need you to fill these up.

MILO: [Sputters] With what?

PACKARD: Will Milo Thatch please report to the bridge?

MILO: Thank you. I mean, uh, uh, nice (10)__________________ you.

SWEET: Uh-huh. Nice meeting you, too.


Answers:

WHITMORE: Pretty impressive, eh?

MILO: Boy, when you settle a bet, y-you settle a bet.

WHITMORE: Well, your granddad always believed, you couldn't put a price on the pursuit of knowledge.

MILO: Well, uh, believe me,  this'll be small change compared to the value of what we're going to learn on this trip.

ROURKE: Yes, this should be enriching for all of us.

PACKARD: Attention, all personnel. Launch will commence in 15 (1)minutes.

ROURKE: Mr. Whitmore.

WHITMORE: Rourke.

ROURKE: It's (2)time.

MILO: Bye, Mr. Whitmore!

WHITMORE: Make us proud, boy!

DIVING OFFICER: Rig ship for dive!

CHIEF OF THE WATCH: Aye, sir! Rig ship for dive.

ROURKE: Lieutenant, take her down.

HELGA: Diving officer, submerge the ship. Make the depth 1-5-0 feet.

DIVING OFFICER: Make the depth 1-5-0 feet.

INTERCOM: Dive, dive! Five degrees down bubble.

DIVING OFFICER: Take us down.

[Warning alarm buzzes]

PACKARD: Attention. Tonight's supper will be baked beans. Musical program to follow. [Sighs] Who (3)wrote this?

MILO: Aah!

MOLIERE: You have disturbed the (4)dirt.

MILO: Uh, pardon me?

MOLIERE:  You have disturbed the dirt! Dirt from around the globe, spanning the centuries! [Gasps] What have you done? England must never merge with France!

MILO: What's it doing in my (5)bed?

MOLIERE: You ask too many questions. Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up!

MILO: Me? I'm, uh...

MOLIERE: Bah! I will know soon enough.

MILO: Hey, hey, hey! Let go!

MOLIERE: Do not be such a crybaby. Hold still. Aha! There you are. Now tell me your story, my little friend. Parchment fiber from the Nile Delta circa 500 B. C. Lead pencil, number 2. Paint flecks of a type used in government buildings. You have a cat, short-haired Persian… two years old, third in a litter of seven. These are all the microscopic fingerprints of the mapmaker. And linguist.

MILO: Hey, how did you...

MOLIERE: This is an outrage! You must leave at once! Out, out, out, out, (6)out!

SWEET: Uh-oh. Sat in the dirt, didn't you? Moliere, now what have I told you about playing nice with the other kids? Get back. I've got (7)soap, and I'm not afraid to use it. [Moilere Hisses] Back, foul creature! Back to the pit from which you came! [Moilere Grunts] The name's Sweet. Joshua Sweet. Medical officer.

MILO: Uh, Milo Thatch.

SWEET: Milo Thatch. You're my 3 o’clock. Well, no time like the present.

MILO: Oh, boy.

SWEET: Nice, isn't it? The catalog says that this little beauty can saw through a femur in 28 seconds. I'm betting I can cut that time in half. Now, stick out your (8)tongue and say "ahh."

MILO: Oh, no, really, I have a... Aah.

SWEET: So, where you from? [Milo Grunts] Really? I have family up that way. Beautiful country up there. Do you do any fishing? [Garbled speech from Milo] Me? I hate fishing. I hate (9)fish. Hate the taste, hate the smell, and hate all them little bones. Here, I'm going to need you to fill these up.

MILO: [Sputters] With what?

PACKARD: Will Milo Thatch please report to the bridge?

MILO: Thank you. I mean, uh, uh, nice (10)meeting you.

SWEET: Uh-huh. Nice meeting you, too.