Admit it, if anybody told you about somebody getting their DNA spliced with a cat, the first thing you'd ask is "is the cat ok?".

Panel 1: A staff room on Tranquility Base. Hudson is standing at an equipment rack, and is removing her helmet.

Slog (OFF):

Hudson, don't be too long at lunch, I need to finish these reports!

Hudson:

Sigh. No captain…

Panel 2: Having removed her helment, Hudson also removes her airtanks. Another person is revealed in the staff room, it is the Spacedude who was spliced with Fluffy.

Spacedude:

How's life as the Captain's assistant?

Hudson:

After he stopped referring to me by the name of his previous assistant, he still couldn't remember my name, so I became known as either Ensign "Uh..." or "Umm...". He eventually got it, though.

Panel 3: Hudson is now sitting down next to Spacedude, she is eating a banana, part of her lunch.

Spacedude:

That's better than having your DNA spliced with a cat's resulting in several hours of maor surgery to fix it and all anybody asks is if the cat is still ok!

Hudson:

But at least your problem has ended! I still love a man who bearly notices my existance, let alone reciprocate, and he's my superior officer!

Panel 4: Same scene (from a slightly shifted perspective) of Hudson and Spacedude talking, except now Hudson is making a grimacing face as if something has disgusted/horrified her.

Spacedude:

Ended? I wish! I'm still bald, this is the fifth day in a row I've craved tuna sandwiches for lunch, yesterday I hurled up a hair ball into my helmet, this morning I napped on a very expensive piece of scientific equipment,and I still get strong urges to lick my backside in public!

Hudson (horrified):

Where did the hair ball come from?

Spacedude:

You do not want to know.

Hudson:

Urgh! Ok, you win!