Star Wars
Yuher looks down and thumbs his robes. "What makes you-- Oh. It's the robes, isn't it?"
He turns back to his comrades, unconcerned. "See, Fenn? I told you I should've changed. This is the last time I take your advice on fashion." To the guards, he confides, "See what I have to put up with? Honestly. The girl is good, no doubt, but just look at that tacky waistcoat she's wearing. What does she think this place is, honestly? 'Don't worry!', she told me. 'It looks distinguished,' she told me. Fft." He turns back to La'fenna and commands, "No death sticks for you this week. Well? Write it down, so you won't forget."
All the time, he's still standing at the door. He tries to open it again as he says, "I'll bet you guys never disappoint your boss like she does me. Look at those rifles! Polished to a shine! Well done, men!"