12 - Not a field agent!

[no_fastolfe]

[Mansooreh's Brooklyn accent, never really mild at the best of times, gets thicker when she's surprised. The effect is sort of 1940's-esque; it's been a hundred some-odd years, the slang was due for a comeback anyway.]

Can I speak to the captain? Is there a steward or something? Look, this is a really really nice space liner but I don't have a ticket or anything! I have to get back to Schenectady, yesterday! Oh man, you guys, you only get one screw-up at US Robots and then you're canned! I can't miss work unless I'm dying. They'd still fire me if I was dying! They'd drop the pink slip on my coffin!

Oh, sheesh, this is bad.

Comments

[no_fastolfe]

Well no and I hope you're having a lotta fun with your convention - [she genuinely does] - but there's really only the one place that makes robots. Because. You know. The ban?

[thewheelofdeath]

Could they continue without you?

[no_fastolfe]

Well, yeah, yeah, it's not like I'm Dr. Calvin or something. [There's a name you say with cautious reverence. In case you summon her.] They're gonna be short staffed for the A-1952 microcircuitry changeover, though. Really I should be there.

[Fret fret.]

[thewheelofdeath]

If you're disposable, then I suggest you stop babbling.

[no_fastolfe]

[She stops and looks at him seriously]

Well hey, Mister, that's pretty rude.

[thewheelofdeath]

My name is Gorefiend.

We do not take our family names lightly.

[no_fastolfe]

My name is Mansooreh Jones. It's very nice to meet you, Mister Gorefiend.

[Re-enactors. Sigh.]