"Could be worse," Amy remarks, reaching out to pluck one of the cookies from the platter.  Cracking it open, she stuffs both halves into her mouth, before frowning down at the piece of paper as she swallows.<br/><br/>"You are an individual interested in forward thrust and the future..." she reads dryly.  Amy doesn't actually say the obligatory last two words, but her expression is clear enough.  "Christ.  Who comes up with these?"