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November 24, 2004
Getting there...
Woo! 39,054! Go me!
I'm worried, though, that Morris is becoming too sympathetic. I mean, I'm required to kill him off (see the epilogue). Oh, well. He IS kind of a jerk, really. I mean, he fantasizes about rape, beat Johnny over the head, and is fairly stupid.
Brakak turned on him. “Morris Glanz, you useless pile of droppings!”
Great, he thought. Just great. “What?”
“There are vessels approaching our base! They are coming here! We have no idea why they are coming or what they want! You will come with us to communicate with them!”
Morris thought longingly of his bottle of Scotch, tucked away in his quarters. “Why me?”
“Because you are human, fool, and we would prefer that they not speak to us directly. We cannot expose ourselves any more than necessary!”
Morris followed her toward the base command center. “But what am I supposed to say to them?”
Brakak was waddling next to him, clucking to herself. She glared up at him. “You will say exactly what we tell you to say, fool. Do you think we would trust this kind of vitally important interaction completely to someone like you?”
Morris ground his teeth. He had originally thought that he would just get used to the way she insulted him but somehow it just kept annoying him. He was used to being insulted by his bosses, but somehow being insulted by a four foot high chicken was just too much. He sighed and kept following her. He had never actually devised an escape strategy for this gig, and it was clearly way past time to do so.
Posted by Ealasaid at November 24, 2004 09:10 PM
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