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Grik, The representative from the Zeta manufacturing corporation was getting pissed .   "All you did was take one of our publicly available courtesy craft and smash it into a triangle shape for some inexplicable reason. You actually managed to somehow weaken every positive attribute with one shape. But as usual it was that dumb genius you are famous for. When it flew straight we figured out that was because the mass was still balanced even if the shape wasn't a circle anymore. So we started making squares. Because squares are smart. More storage. But still, we'd have never found it if not for your idiocy." He was done. Just done talking at that point. He was not going to give in. He just didn't care anymore. Fuck the humans. Fuck Tate Cameron. Yet, he continued... "So that's the reason your stupid triangle copies of our craft do not work and tumble all over the place and look silly. Have you no shame? Why do you still fly them? Do you understand t

"Haven't you ever wondered why there are so many people that are so very similar?" Ted considered this. "Yeah but, " He paused to take a long draw off the joint, and to stall. He wasn't completely done with his thought process. It was stunningly hard to keep up with her. "Like how you probably know at least 10 other guys named Ted that do what you do for a living?" Ok, he had noticed that. "And how you even kinda look similar." And even some of the last names were similar... "Ok, this is getting creepy." said Ted. "Look, it's simple. I only have a few more days here. I have wanted a premium Ted my entire life. So I'm going to use you for sex, then erase your memory. Nobody will know. You certainly won't." What in the fuck had Ted gotten himself into? He met this girl at the top of the needle. Couldn't be more than 4 foot 9. Drunk out of her fucking mind. Co