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All responses Most smiled responses
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First of all, who let you in here, and why haven't I shot you yet? Second of all, my name is not Ahab, nor is it Ishmael.
Third of all, you damn well better not call me Ishmael, sir, or I will rewrite your neurons to spout nothing but early nineties pop hits.
Fourth and final of all: No. I damn well haven't. And if I see her again, I will shoot her. I have my Stalker Hunting Permit for a reason. -
It seems that everyone and their dove wishes to quiz me on Temporal Physics and attempt to see me incarcerated for Tense Crimes. As well as Temporal War Crimes. But the exact was of an Imperial Dove is equal to the when of a Metric dove, squared, and then divided by a Merry Tuesday. If you cannot perform such simple mathematics, then I suggest you stop pestering me, and return to the primary educational facility nearest to you. Might I suggest a kindergarten?
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asked by CharlieTwist
Always, my dear assistant. What kind of silly question is that? As for today's assignment, I believe we will require at least two bioelectrical elephant prods, three dozen harpoons, my neural meme gun, and several pairs of Stomping Boots. As well as anything you feel the need to bring along.
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asked by jarrodrose
Dear fellow; I do not know whom you have been consulting with, but such nonsense is far beyond what any reasonable scientist would look for. Besides which, did you forget the Pre/post cognition wars? Even considering seeing the future can be construed as a War Crime. (But if I could, I would see the verdict of my inevitable war crimes trial)
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Whilst I resent the implication that I sleep whilst there is science to be done, I will answer your puny question. This morning began with the sounds of screaming, and the smell of gunpowder, as the annual Hospitality Workers Ball took place. Marvellous affair, involves waiters, bartenders and sundry to finally give those shitty customers what-for. It was accompanied by the feeling of my stupid cat attempting to lick my eyeball, as well as the sight of the blasted little thing. I am unsure as to what taste was in my mouth, but let us just describe it as retched, and remind me never to drink curdled Polish Rutabaga Liquor ever again.
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Loading...Simon Bedlam
Infinite, The Future
