[Getting down on the ground so he can prepare to do some more push-ups, Kronk suddenly spots this stray piece of paper by the profiles. Looks to be some info about the big blue guy that brought them here. ...now that he thinks about it, they didn't really get a name for the guy when he was here. "Big Floaty Dick", is it?]

"B.F. Richard to the friends he doesn't have"-? [He gasps slightly.] No friends? That's so sad...

[Kronk puts off the workout routine for now, opting instead to lay on his stomach, legs bent up in the air, reading through the rest of the paper.]

..."smells and I hate him". Really? Didn't pick up much of a fragrance off him over all the must in this place. Not to mention the use of first-person in a formal document is generally frowned upon. Who's the "I" here?