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"Oh, great." Pleakley grumbled, throwing his suitcase to the side. "There's only one bed."
"Yes. And? Why is that being a problem? Is better than sleeping on the ground in forest, no?"
"Much better. It's just that," Pleakley wanted to be anywhere but here having this conversation right now. "In Earth culture, you share a bed with the person you're married to."
"Oh!" Jumba's eyes widened as he realized what Pleakley meant. "The Hotel desk human is thinking that you are my mate?"
"Probably, yes."
"That might be good thing." Jumba mused. "Gives more credibility to our disguises. I heard other humans saying that they are just being married and are here for honeymoon. Maybe we should be saying that too?"
Pleakley had a look of horror on his face and looked deathly pale.
"Or not. Was just suggestion. Relax."
"Sorry. It's just that my mom has been trying to pressure me into an arranged marriage and the topic stresses me out and gives me such anxiety."
"Well," Jumba stroked his chin, deep in thought. "All more reason to pretend marry. You tell mother you already have spouse, and then she won't be stressing you out about it anymore, right?"
"And what about you?" Pleakley eyed the evil genius suspiciously. "What do you get out of it?"
"Like said earlier, better disguise means better chance of catching 626, which means better chance of councilwoman sending Jumba home. And..."
"Would not mind rubbing in face of ex wife that I am getting remarried before her."