Chapter Text
"What's two plus two?" A robotic voice asks. I want it to shut up. I'm lying here, clearly asleep, and some robot asshole is asking me to do basic addition. Can't it see I'm comfortable?
Wait. No, I'm not comfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's just a little too cold, the bed curves up a little bit too much at the edges, and the air feels a little bit too dry.
Where the fuck am I?
"Whrrr- fkk- uh" I attempt to ask. That sounded absolutely nothing like what I was trying to say. It's like my jaw is glued shut, sore from disuse, and my tongue made of rubber. Huh. Must've been clenching my teeth especially hard while I was asleep, I did have an unhealthy habit of doing so.
"Incorrect" The voice says. Well fucking obviously. "What's two plus two?" Again?
"Fuu" I manage. I'm not quite sure if I'm trying to say four or fuck you, but regardless, I failed.
"Incorrect. What's two plus two?"
I let out a wordless screech. Will this bitch shut up?
"Incorrect. What's two plus two?" Oh my god. I want to throttle whoever the hell made this robot. Why is there a robot here anyways? Matter of fact, where is here? I realize, maybe having my eyes closed isn't conducive to me understanding my surroundings. Shocker. I try to open my eyes. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a twitch. Wow, great job, me. Clearly I have superior control over my motor function.
Wait.
Who is me, exactly? Or, who am I, if I'm trying to prioritize grammar over the rising panic in my chest.
Well. I don't know who I am, I have a robot waiting for me to do basic addition, and I've seemingly forgotten how to open my eyes. Great going, me. Maybe I should get on fixing some of those problems instead of finding more. Have I been kidnapped? Fuck I've probably gotten myself kidnapped like an idiot and am waking up from sedation. That's why I can't move. Who the hell took me, and why'd they put a robot in the room?
Okay, lets try again. Take two: I open my eyes! Nope still nothing. Once more? Ha! My left eye twitched. I'm making great progress. I give it another go and manage to slowly pry my eye open, only to near immediately slam it back shut. Shit, that's bright. Like come to heaven, big-ass LED bright. One of the two. Either I'm a scientific experiment, or all my religious beliefs are wrong and I'm in heaven. A lose-lose situation, really. I force my eye- (eyes?) open again and don't let them fall shut.
Yup, I'm a science experiment. I'm just surrounded by white. Bright white ceiling, at least 20 feet tall, light gray walls, and bright, bright white fuck-ass LED lights. Ugh. I hate LEDs. I'm in some sort of sleep pod, the whole thing is round, the mattress even curls up at the sides, caging me in, and the only opening is a bright wash of light to my upper right. Speaking of my right, either they've already started experimenting on me or somethings wrong, because I can't see a damn thing on my right side. Not dark, just. Nothing. My vision ends, which considering the fact that I'm looking straight upwards and have ample visibility on my left side, does not bode well. Fuck did they take my eye? Am I waking up from an EYE experiment?
I try to blink my right eye. Still works. I can feel it, its right there. But my brains getting 0 input. Whatever, if it doesn't hurt, it's not my problem. I'll let future me deal with the ramifications of being half-blind.
"Eye movement detected. What's two plus two?" This. Fucking. Bitch.
"Foor." There. I did my best.
"Correct." FINALLY. My throat feels dry, what can a guy do to get some water 'round here? Am I gonna have to sweet-talk some creepy lab assistant? Ugh. Oh, maybe the reason my throat is so dry is because of the strange mask strapped over my face. Probably pumping go-to-sleep gas in me or something. How did I not notice that before? I try to move my hands but obviously that doesn't work. Really, what did I expect?
Maybe the robot has some purpose outside of annoying the shit out of me. "Oi, c'n I get some water?" My voice scrapes out my throat, as gentle as sandpaper.
"What's the cube root of eight?" That is in no way related to water. Wow. Did I just get put here to see how visually impaired people solve math equations under duress? Is that what this is?
"Um. Water?"
"What's the cube root of eight?" When I get out of here, I swear, I will throttle this damn bot. Unplug it. Kill it and crush its motherboard. Pulverize it.
"Two, you useless metal scrap-bucket. Siri beats you out 10 to 1, by the way."
"Incorrect." What? "What's the cube root of eight?"
Feeling especially homicidal, I grumble, "Two."
"Correct." Finally. I move my head so my left eye can look through the opening- which hurts my neck quite a lot, thank you, but I'm powered by rage and want to see the waste of technology that's putting me through this shit. Holy shit that's a weird-ass machine, just hanging off of the ceiling like that. I can't even describe it. Something so stupid doesn't deserve a description actually. I decide to ignore it.
The movement seems to have awoken my senses, and I can suddenly feel everything that's attached to me. Which is, unfortunately, quite a lot. There's a lot of different tubes going into a lot of different places and I don't really want to talk about most of them. Actually realizing all of this has made me a bit nauseous.
Luckily, I don't have to think about it for long.
"Head movement detected. Please hold still." The bot moves forward swiftly before I could even think to react. It removes the various tubes and I was free. I made the very wise decision to forget any of the tubes had ever existed. Really, that was the one thing I didn't need to remember.
"Uh. Computer? Where am I?" Couldn't hurt to try, right? Worst case scenario I get asked to simplify 45/15.
"Eat." Huh? That was entirely unrelated. Does this robot have an inability to hold conversation programmed in? There's a whirring noise as the robot- assumedly, I can't see it since I'm staring at the ceiling again- moves.
Tired of not knowing what's going on around me, I sit up, perfectly timed so I get nailed in the face with- a tube of toothpaste? Thanks robot. Asshole.
"Eat." I look at the toothpaste. Still looks like toothpaste. Not food. Oh, it says something. MEAL 1. Okay then. Guess it's not toothpaste. I unscrew the cap- ew. It's filled with a viscous brown sludge. Doesn't look appetizing. My nose seems to have a conflicting opinion, though, because goddamn does it smell good. My stomach growls. Mouth watering, I tentatively lick the tiniest bit of sludge. Oh, that's quite good actually. Like some sort of spicy stew, or curry, maybe, if it'd been reduced down to practically 0% water content. I devour the rest of the tube in seconds. It does not hit the spot.
"You got another one of those?" I ask, very politely, in my opinion, to the evil robot-creature that is now my overlord.
"Meal Complete."
"Okay… just give me another," I demand. I'm still hungry, starving actually. As if I haven't eaten for months. Months, huh. Maybe that's why my throat felt so raw. NG tube, anyone? Wouldn't be surprising, considering the assortment of tubes I'd still had in me when I woke up. It was probably removed shortly before I woke up.
"Food allotment for this meal has been met."
"Asshole." I roll to the side, determined to get out of this strange sleep-pod thing. I feel the air on way too much of my skin. I'm bare-ass naked, apparently. That bodes well, with the whole science experiment theory. I grab the thin sheet, wrapping it around me like a towel. Good enough. Stepping out of the bed-pod doesn't kill me, thankfully, but it does unlock a new line from the robot!
"Self-Ambulation detected." Wonderful. I had so been looking forward to hearing it speak again. Exactly what I was hoping for. "What's your name?"
Well. Fuck if I know. I think, long and hard, and get absolutely nothing. Do I know anything about myself? I know I hate annoying things, like this robot. I know I like curry? Maybe? Hm. What else? Well, I'm half blind, clearly, though I'm not sure if that's a recent development or not. Considering I'd forgotten about it a few times, I'd say maybe not. I think even amnesiacs would freak out if they lost a significant portion of their vision. It feels normal to me, in a strange way. I have a teeth grinding problem, apparently. I look down at myself. My body is female, though I can immediately sense my gender doesn't quite match. My skin is brown, but that points to about 200 ethnicities, so not quite helpful. I swear a lot, so I'm probably not a nanny or anything like that. Definitely American, I don't think any other country is primarily English speaking AND uses feet to estimate distances. Well, there's Canada, but that's practically America anyways. Based on that opinion alone, I can safely assume I'm American, actually.
Well, clearly I'm not gonna tell me anything more about myself, so I should start figuring it out. I survey the room, taking in the space before me. It tells me nothing about myself. Very. Round. There's a ladder going up the wall across from me, leading to a hatch in the ceiling. And huh. There's two other sleep pods, forming a semicircle around the base of the room. I approach the one on my left. Another human. I'm not alone here. It seems like both the other people (subjects? captees?) are zipped up in something resembling a body bag. Looks uncomfortable. I try to unzip it and the robot goes haywire.
"Step Back. Initiating waking procedure." Oh, great! They're waking up!
"What's two plus two?"
I hear a faint voice of a woman. Ugh, five more minutes lady! Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?
I want to curl up and roll over, but I find that I can't. Hey wait, why am I on my back? This is totally out of character! And I can't feel my limbs in the slightest…hey, what did that lady say anyway?
"What's two plus two?" Well that's convenient. Two plus two? Why am I being asked a math question right after waking up? Where's the morning etiquette? Doesn't this girl know I need at least an hour in the morning before I start talking?
Now that I think about it…who is this woman? There's no inflection, it sounds like an Alexa or something, but I don't even have an Alexa. Oh em gee…did I Isekai into portal? Is this Glados speaking to me from the heavens?!
I need to try and respond. "Hhuu.."
Well that was embarrassing. Maybe I should just stop breathing and die. I try, but now I notice there's an oxygen mask strapped to my face, which has gained a little more feeling since I woke up. The artificial air forces me to live on after that ridiculous groan I just let out.
Clearly, I have no idea what's going on. I must be in a hospital. If it's a mechanical voice, maybe I got into a crazy accident and have been in a coma for 20 years and now we are extremely advanced in society. But why is it asking me math questions? Eugh.
"What's two plus two?"
I ignore it. Now that my brain is really working, seriously that hamster must be running ninety miles an hour on the wheel, I realize I can't see anything either. Oh my god…I'M BLIND! I can't believe I lost my vision this is the worst day of my life—wait.
Phew! Actually my eyes are just closed! Wow I almost had a heart attack just now. I try to open them, but my nose twitches instead. Seriously? I didn't even know I could do that.
Open sesame, eyeballs, it's a rise and shine day!
I feel a twitch, a fabulous sign, truly, I knew motivational talks worked. I strain with every bone in my body, and every hope and dream in my soul, to open my eyes.
…It worked! I was immediately blinded by terrible, bright white LED lights straight into my retinas, but I keep the eyes open through sheer force of will. I have experience in this department, specifically with late night phone checks, or accidentally turning on the bathroom light. Ouch.
I sit in silence, continuing to ignore that stupid math question, until my eyes finally adjust, and I get over the exertion it took me to do such a simple thing. I'm in some kind of bed, it's deep set, and I'm sunk inside like a life pod in a sci-fi movie. From what I can see, the walls are a light gray, and rounded? Directly in front of me is a…robot. I guess? It's bolted to the ceiling, a very tall, white ceiling, it looks like it's got two arms, and a bunch'a tubes and wires or something. Interesting. Definitely medical looking, but no eyeball, which is totally lame.
Despite the lack of eyes, clearly it's watching me. "Eye movement detected. What's two plus two?" This sweet robot has been looking after me all this time! I should try to answer it at least.
"Fh..ruh" I slur. "Incorrect. What's two plus two?"
C'mon vocal cords, it's time to get with the program! Or maybe it's my tongue? I guess it doesn't matter when everything feels so dry…ugh I hope I don't have a sore throat.
"Fff..ouur" Hey, that was pretty good!
"Incorrect. What's two plus two?" Jeez, you run a strict program, Armando! Can I call you Armando? Yeah I'm calling you Armando.
I grunt in preparation, "Ffooouurr.." Nnnailed it!
"Correct." I preen in satisfaction, I'm such a genius.
I try to remember my last memory, but all I can really think about is how thirsty I am. I remember waking up, but what about before that? I was…I am…hm. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I don't remember anything. Literally! My name! My age! My job! Holy moly macaroni this is not good for my cardiovascular health.
I'm sorta panicking now, I'd hyperventilate if the mask let me, but maybe this is normal. Obviously I remember some things—I have been constantly referencing dumb video game things in my head this whole time! I know what a Sci-fi movie is! Maybe I can ask Armando where I am, or what happened?
I clear my throat, but clearly that was a terrible decision and I almost choke on my own spit.
"Guh..Wh—where..am I?" That was a bit smoother than the previous attempts at speaking, but on second thought, I should probably ask for water.
"What's the cube root of eight?" I don't even remember my name, Armando, how am I supposed to answer that? "Uh..water." Stall for time, perfect.
"Incorrect. What's the cube root of eight?" Oh C'mon! Aren't you supposed to be medical! This is a medical emergency ya know?! What if I dehydrate before I can think of the answer, huh? I squint in confusion. What does cube root mean again?
"Uhh..f-four?" That's totally wrong, dang it, I knew that wasn't right why did I even say that!?
"Incorrect. What's the cube root of eight?"
This is too stressful, maybe I should go back to sleep and some human doctor will come and help me later? Maybe I can bite my tongue like in the movies and die, maybe the shame will trigger a stress induced heart attack so I don't have to face the world. I can't do it this, seriously.
"Uhh…I dunno."
Suddenly I hear this agitating, grating voice.
"Oh for fuck's sake, I can't listen to this anymore—it's TWO! TWO, you idiot!"
Wow. Thank you, disembodied voice! You could've had a nicer tone though. Hmph. I knew that anyways. Actually, I knew that you were there, and was just testing you, so how about that?
"Incorrect. what's the cube root of eight?"
"Two." I say simply and with confidence. I knew all along, of course. Hey wait…doesn't this mean that this voice heard me this whole time? Is a human doctor just laughing at my misery?! Actually the accident I went through should've killed me, I take back whatever I said, this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Oh Armando! you are the only one on my side!
"Correct." Armando's validation fills me with energy. I need to sit up already, and maybe berate the doctor for not helping me out! Seriously, can't a girl get a glass of water!?
I twitch my fingers, and flex my toes, trying to get a feel for the rest of my body. I get the distinct impression in my soul that I've never been one for athletics, despite the surprising tone and muscles I can feel from my body, a sit-up has never been on my daily regime.
Okay, attempt number one. I take a deep breath and heave myself up. I can feel my elbows brace against the mattress beneath me, and the air leave my lungs, but nothing really moves except my neck, which now feels strained, yeowch!
I close my eyes again and say a prayer to every respective deity I've ever heard of, plus the ones I haven't, and ask them to give me the strength to sit up.
I try again. Nothing.
I try again. And yes! My spine curves up slightly, and wow great a crick in my back! Just what I wanted. Someone must have heard me, or my desperation was truly that strong, but I heave myself the rest of the way up.
I end up slumping over too far, but it's progress. Only then do I realize the bajillion tubes inserted in various places I refuse to acknowledge. Ow. I think I bent a couple of them and everything—Armando save me from my misery and sedate me.
"Full body movement detected. Please hold still." It seems Armando was the overlord listening to my prayers all this time, as it swiftly approaches me, balancing my feeble attempt at sitting up and taking off and out all the various tubes and wires I have been acquainted with for 10 seconds too long. I flail while it happens, and the sudden strength in my arms makes me bang against every nearby surface, including Armando.
It beeps in reprimand at me, and I settle down just to blink at the audacity. What is my life? I realize then that I am as naked as the day I was born, and gasp dramatically as I cover myself with my arms. "Armando, you fiend!"
I whip my head around to look at the room and stare in shock at the other person just standing there. Looking at me. Only now do I remember the disembodied voice from earlier. I assumed it was a doctor's voice, but this person has a…sheet as clothing. Is this the future fashion trend? Were they just watching me the whole time in silence like a sentinel? WTF, man!
"…Did you just call the hell-bot Armando?" They sound unfairly judgemental for someone wearing a sheet as if it's high fashion.
"…Uhm…yea man." I answer incredulously "Were you just standing there the whole time? And what's with that terrible outfit?"
"Ah, yes, because what you're wearing constitutes an outfit. I'm wearing something, that's enough"
"Listen…whoever you are! As a doctor, shouldn't you be dressed more protectively at least? I didn't think the future would be so bleak in fashion trends."
"Doctor? Is there supposed to be a doctor here? Because the only other person I see is you. And the hell-bot, but that thing doesn't count as a life-form."
They aren't a doctor?? Oh my god…did another patient sneak into my room? Are they a crazy person? I look around the room some more, and notice I am in the center of three pods. One seems to still be inside the wall, while another is slid out and empty. Ah. So they must be in the same situation!
"Oh, so you are also a patient! Well…I assumed that I got into some kind of accident and have been in a coma for 20 years so now we are super advanced as a society that robots take care of us… I didn't expect to have a roommate! Do you remember anything?"
"Nothing. You neither? Name, Age, Profession? Uh, nationality, maybe? You're white as a ghost, if that helps narrow that down."
I stare at them in consideration. They have golden brown skin, with an overgrown wolf cut. It looks like they used to be full purple, but the black roots are definitely showing by now. Book an appointment 'cause you need a touch up! Their eyes are dark brown, and the right one seems to veer outwards. A lazy eye. My brain supplies. I had to wear glasses for one when I was younger! Their face is very androgynous, major gender envy central over here. Even though I've presumably never seen them before, the face brings a warm familiarity, as if I've known them my whole life.
What were we talking about again? Right, memories.
"Uh…I don't remember those things, but I think I'm American! I referenced miles and a bunch of American video games in my head at least."
"Hm. Me as well. No idea about ethnicity, definitely American. Any chance you woke up half-blind as-well?"
"Ah…no I'm sorry," Why am I apologizing? "20/20 vision over here! Uhm…you have a bit of a lazy eye though…if you were concerned about that. Do you have any idea where we are or what's going on?"
"Nope. I just woke up too. There's a hatch in the roof but I haven't looked 'round yet. Not quite sure I can handle climbing a ladder at the moment." They pause for an awkward second. "Uh. You might wanna.. y'know, cover up. I just used the sheet from my bed."
Right I'm freaking naked! Oh my god that's so em-bare-ssing. I snicker then I stop. Focus! I look down and rip the sheet from beneath me, and consider how I should tie it to best cover all the bases.
While I'm flailing around trying to clothe myself, the glorious Armando starts to move. She gently brings down what looks like a toothpaste tube.
"Please eat."
I finish tying the sheet around me like a bath towel and take the tube.
"Thanks a bunch Armando! You the man!" I shoot her some finger guns. I trust Armando with my life and quickly unscrew the cap to eat. I'm starving! I gently squeeze the tube and a brown sludge comes out. Disgusting, but it must be this way for easy digestion after no solid foods.
"It can't do basic math, I doubt it can understand you." The person mutters, very salty-like in my opinion.
"You're welcome." Armando says, prompting my fellow patient to glare at it. Hey, what did Armando do wrong? Have manners? And anyway, this sludge is fantastic! Better than hypothetical sex, I don't know how I know this, but it's true. It taste like liquefied beef or gravy but a little less rich in texture.
"Wow this slaps! I thought it was gonna be disgusting, tee-bee-H, it's like gravy or beef—have you had any yet?"
"Yeah. Mine tasted like curry, though. Didn't think we'd be getting personalized meals here."
"Since we can't remember anything, do you think we picked our own flavors in advance? Now that I'm thinking about it, a hatch and ladder for a hospital is strange…maybe this is a bunker! And there was a total nuclear warfare or zombie apocalypse so we slept in cryogenic chambers for a hundred years!" That's totally what happened. It all makes sense now.
"I sincerely doubt we're in a bunker. I was running on the theory of scientific experiment. Doubt they'd put us in comas as a response to nuclear warfare."
"Obviously we put ourselves in comas so that we didn't have to wait for the radiation to subside! And to save rations! We were probably one of those people who had crazy high tech high stocked apocalypse bunkers and were super prepared!"
"I might not remember my own name, but I know for a fact that I am not some kooky doomsday prepper."
"You'll come around, Cy, why else would there be a submarine bunker hatch on the ceiling?"
"What'd you just call me?" They question, eyes widening with shock.
"What?" I think back to what I just said. 'Cy.' Where did that come from?
"Um…Cy? I said Cy. Is that your name?! Do I know you!?" I point at them dramatically.
"I suppose it is… I don't remember it, but clearly you do." They say it with an edge of suspicion in their voice, a bit worse than before. Wow! Super cagey!
"Hey man! Don't look at me like that okay? I just feel like I've seen you before. It only just now popped into my brain, hey, hey can you remember me?" I wave jazz hands around my face to emphasize my point.
"Any chance you remember anything else? Like where you've seen me? Might help jog my memory."
I put both pointer fingers to my brain and glare hard at them, as if to force a mental connection to form.
"Oh! Oh!…..yea I got nothing." And I'm so thirsty, "why can't you remember something instead?"
"Well you're not giving me much to work with, Jay!" They burst out, exasperated.
"GASP!" I scream out loud. "YOU JUST SAID MY NAME!" I point at them, voice cracking, the Spider-man meme comes to mind.
"Huh? Oh. Jay. Well I s'pose that answers that question." They swallow audibly. "Ugh what can someone do to get some water 'round here?"
I interject at the same time "When can we get some water, too? My throat is tired of screaming."
On instinct, we point at each-other and exclaim in sync-
"Brainlink!"
Jay's POV
I'm in class, a computational science elective I decided to take. It's pretty interesting, I love coding, and coding models of astronomical systems is a blast. I'm working towards my PHD in aerospace and mechanical engineering at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and I've been loving every second.
Typically, I've been the youngest in my class by a long shot, but in this particular case, I sit right next to someone who's a speedy going smartie like me!
They are polite, but their face isn't very expressive. I very much want to talk to them, and have been trying to muster up the courage to socialize more than saying hello, for at least a week.
Here goes nothing! Be casual, be cool, be confident.
"…Hey!" Was that too simple? Maybe I should've asked a question.
They look at me. Face blank as always.
"…Hi?"
Wow that's painful. But it was a response! They will fall for my inevitable charms and we will be best friends by the end of this class. Mark my words.
"What's your name?" I say cheerfully, I wince slightly, that was way too exuberant.
They raise an eyebrow. "It's C̵̡̨̩̟̐̆/̸̓́̈̓͛ͅ/̵̻͙̖̈́͘-̷̰̹̂̋̅,- uh. Just call me by my initials. C.Y.."
"Oh cool! Cy is sick!"
"No. It's C.Y."
"Yea! Cy! Like Cyclops right? That's what I said!"
"…Alright."
"Since we're doin' nicknames, call me Jay!" I point at myself dramatically, I think I even puff my chest out a little.
Cy just stares at me. But at least I've got their attention! Hmm…what do I even say!?
"So uhm, Spider-man, amiright?"
What in the mother fuck does that even mean, Lord take me away I'm ready now.
"I—I mean uh, I like your pop socket! I love Spider-man! I have a limited edition Spider-man Build-a-Bear actually. Hey, you got a favorite comic? Movie? I think I like Andrew Garfield's Spider-man the best."
I'm not breathing, I'm not blinking, I'm just chattering away like a mad-man, is this what they mean when they ask Jesus to take the wheel? Continue to channel whatever force you've held onto in this moment, Jay, don't let it slip through your fingers! You will never get this courage again!
I keep going. "A-anyway, man, it's cooling down lately! I'm really glad honestly, a break during the summer is nice and all, but I can't say I miss the heat. I'm always sweating buckets, hah… and uh, yeah the cool air is nice, especially when people start bonfires and that autumn smell starts popping up everywhere, ya know?"
And going…" That makes me think of s'mores, dude, I would kill for one of those right now. Hey are you a sweets kinda person or no?"
I consider continuing again, but I should let them a chance to respond right? I stare into the depths of their soul, still not blinking.
"…Andrew Garfield is the best movie spider-man. He got closest to the comics, Toby Maguire was too lame as Peter and Tom Holland was too reliant on Iron Man to be a good Spider-Man. And I love sweets. You talk a lot, by the way."
I blink for the first time in five minutes. Holy guacamole, it's a success. I don't think I've ever heard them speak more than a single sentence at a time.
"Um, thanks! I totally agree about Tom Holland Spider-man, he's literally supposed to be focused on the little guy, but it feels like he's focused on the big guys ya know? I mean we hardly got any good New York Citizen interactions! He just helped Iron Man beat up Captain America and then fought aliens!"
"Exactly! Like we basically never saw our friendly neighborhood spider-man being friendly with the neighbors. And he doesn't establish himself as an independent hero at all. He's entirely reliant on Tony Stark. That's not my spider-man, my spider-man built himself from the ground-up."
"At least the new movie coming out is gonna show how he works on his own! Though I can't say I'm a huge fan of the everyone-forgets-me plot."
"Me neither, it feels like a cop-out so they can start establishing him as an independent hero now, when they should've done it back when they were introducing him. It does leave a lot a lot of room for angst with MJ and Ned, but literally everyone else that we'd want to remember him is dead, so. Doesn't have much impact."
I interject because now I'm fired up,"and another thing! MJ would never—" Cy jumps in "—date flash!"
"Yes! I was thinking the exact same thing."
At this point we are on a roll. We point at each-other and exclaim in sync—
"Brainlink!"