Disclaimer – The characters in this story are from the cartoon "My Life as a Teenage Robot" and are completely NOT owned by me. My sole creations are the characters of Drew, and the Cluster robots.
ANDROID SCAM
A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic
Chapter One – Ain't Never Had a Friend Like Me
The stars shone brilliantly in the perfect darkness of space; millions upon millions of blazing white pinpricks stretched to infinity in every direction. Well, not every direction; if you looked hard enough, you could see the circle of the Earth, cut out of the stars, a globe with a splashes of white and yellow lights all its own. A few moments later, the curve of the planet's surface flashed into view, highlighted by the pale blues and pinks of the atmosphere as the sun peeked over the horizon, ushering in another new day. The sunlight cut a wider slice, revealing oceans, continents, forests and cities ….
And a blazing streak coming from deep space, bright white and orange, screaming towards the planet at high speed. High speed? Amazing speed. Terrific speed. Mind-boggling speed. In no time at all the blazing object entered the Earth's atmosphere and formed a raging fireball. Seething plasma sprayed off in all directions, forming a shock wave through the stratosphere. Its trajectory focused in on a mid-sized city in North America. Unsuspecting citizens, out walking the dog, getting the newspaper, watering the lawn, were startled by the staccato thunder of sonic booms and look skyward to see a flaming ball slice across the sky. It was heading straight for the city. Straight for the heart of town. Straight for the high school. The fireball took aim for the front entrance ….
And came to a full stop, six inches above concrete sidewalk. A wash of wind and exhaust blew out in a circle, nearly knocking over a few dozen students who lingered by the bus stop, less than eager to head inside and start the school week. A few looked stunned. Some gazed in awe. Most seemed simply annoyed. The dust cleared, revealing a metallic humanoid shape, with extending wings and imposing rocket boosters, settling gently to the ground. Smoke hissed from the remnants of the extreme heat. With a sleek whirring noise, the wings and boosters fantastically retracted into its body, leaving an impressive figure. A six-and-a-half-foot tall robot. With pale blue trim. And pigtails.
"Oh, wow, I am so late!!!"
One of the students rushed up to the robot, straightening his shirt collar and smoothing back his spiked red hair. "Awesome entrance, Jenny," he said. "Too bad you didn't make it fifteen minutes ago!"
"Brad, I am so sorry! Mom had me out on a stupid wild goose …"
The ring of a school bell cut her off and startled Brad. "Inside! Hurry!" Brad grabbed her arm to guide her towards the front door. Her fresh-from-reentering-the-atmosphere arm. They rushed through the front doors of the high school as Brad waved his now painfully red hand.
Jenny grimaced. "Brad, I'm sorry!"
"Hand – not – important," Brad managed through his clenched teeth. They rushed down the main corridor past the freshmen lockers – no time for that now. They were officially late. They snuck towards first period like cat burglars. "Geometry. We were going to compare homeworks. I think I've got 'em all, but number seven was tough. Did you get a parallelogram? You got the assignment done, didn't you?"
"No problem. Got it safe and sound right here," said Jenny, patting her belly. She reached for a small blue bolt, about where her belly button would be, when it started to flash and emit a buzzing sound. Oh, great. Perfect timing. A small door in her chest slid open, and out shot a contraption that expanded into a television monitor. The picture snapped on instantly, showing a wild-haired woman with thick glasses and a yellow lab coat. She frowned out of the screen towards Jenny.
"XJ-9!" she shouted. "I am waiting for your report!"
Jenny waved her hands in front of the screen. "Mom! Keep it down! I'm going to get caught!"
"Young lady, do not tell me to 'keep it down'. This is of paramount importance! What did you find in Sector 358?"
"Mom, I'm late for geometry."
"Did you confirm the readings from my monitors?"
"Arghhh! Mom, you know what I found out there? I found space. Rocks! Dust! And a stupid comet! There was nothing out there!
Brad peeked over Jenny's shoulder. "Mrs. Wakeman, what do you know about parallelograms?"
"I know Sector 358 is shaped like a parallelogram," she huffed, folding her arms.
"I've gotta go, Mom, I'm going to get in trouble."
A voice boomed from behind them. "Correction. You are in trouble."
Jenny groaned and shut off her monitor. As it folded back into her chest, she and Brad turned around to face their Vice Principal Raczinski, a short, stout man with thick glasses and gray hair. He made a grand production of jotting down their names on a yellow pad of paper. "One tardy slip for you, sir," he said, handing Brad a small piece of paper. "And one for you, Miss XJ-9. My, my. I'm going to have to get some of these printed up with your name on them. This makes what, four this month? So were we out saving the world this fine Monday morning?"
"Yes. I mean, not really." Jenny stammered. "I mean, I had a mission but it turned out to be really nothing …"
"Well, your new mission is … education." The vice principal walked ten feet and gestured towards the door of geometry class. Jenny trudged into the room, disgusted. Ten lousy feet away. And the geometry teacher was late! If Mom hadn't called, I would've been home free! Brad ambled in behind her, and they took their usual desks.
The rest of the students were already seated, relaxed, and chatting. Jenny opened a door in her abdomen and briefly rummaged around. I know it's in here somewhere. Most of her books were back in her locker, but she had her Geometry text with her. There it is! She pulled it out and … and it was mildly smoldering. Apparently textbooks didn't withstand re-entry too well. Oh no. She blew on it and waved it. Better idea. She unfolded her left hand, and extended a small fan from her wrist to cool off the text. That's when she realized that the entire class was staring at her. A few snorts and chuckles broke out.
"I say, Jenny, that is a bold fashion statement, but I don't believe the scorched look is in this season."
Jenny winced as a new round of giggles started. She quickly unfolded a small mirror from her right arm. Sure enough, she had visibly blackened scorch marks on her face, pigtails, and body from her fiery arrival ten minutes ago. Nothing a little steel wool wouldn't clean up later. She slowly turned to her left, where two very fashion-conscious girls sat, filing their nails. "Uh – h-hey there Brit. Tiff. Heh, heh. Hot stuff, huh?"
Brit's attention never left her perfectly manicured fingernails. "Mmmm, yes, 'hot stuff' indeed. Rah-ther like a steel mill. Or a garbage incinerator." The tall thin brunette glanced at her shorter friend, decked out heavily with trendy accessories and makeup. "Wouldn't you say, Tiff?"
"Oh, snap. Absolutely." Tiff inhaled deeply and placed a finger to her forehead, pretending to think deeply. "And I just lo-o-ove your perfume. What do you call it … 'Burning Tire'?"
Brad winced. This was painful just to watch. The Krust cousins were scoring hits on his friend Jenny early today. He tried to pass her a reassuring glance, but Jenny wouldn't make eye contact. She slid down in her chair as much as her six-foot-plus metal frame would let her. Please, thought Brad, don't let the desk catch fire. But by then Jenny's cooling systems had reduced her temperature to normal – even if her face was flushing blue.
"All right, all right, enough, enough." The geometry teacher strolled through the door and slapped his briefcase on the desk. The giggles and chatter died down as he rushed down the last of his coffee and started writing on the chalkboard. "We're already late, people. Everybody pass your assignments forward and turn to the following section."
Papers rustled as the students passed their geometry assignments forward. As a bunch of papers reached Jenny's desk, she flipped to the back cover of her textbook, where her assignment was completed, folded, and ready. And charred beyond recognition.
"No!" she shrieked. She tried smoothing the paper and scraping off the soot. It didn't help. Jenny gulped, and carried her stack of papers to the teacher's desk. "Umm … Mr. Snitzenburg? I have a little problem." She laid her half-blackened assignment on the desk in front of the teacher. "I did the homework, but it got a little … burned on the way to school this morning."
"It's always something," said the teacher, rolling his eyes. "I ran out of pencils. I lost my textbook. My homework burned up on re-entry." He squinted at Jenny's paper. "Well, you did something, but I certainly can't grade this. Since I'm in a good mood, instead of simply giving you an 'F', I'll give you an extra assignment. Due tomorrow morning."
"B-but we had all weekend for this assignment!" said Jenny. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she wasn't winning this argument. "Yes, Mr. Snitzenburg. Thank you."
"And since you're already up here, Miss XJ-9, would you be so kind as to solve the problem I've put on the board?" He handed her a piece of chalk, and she shuffled up to the chalkboard. Argh. She felt every pair of eyes in the room burning a hole into her back. She tried to brush some of the scorched carbon off of her metallic skin while she analyzed the problem. All right, this isn't too hard. Just get this over with and get back to my desk. Prove that these two lines are perpendicular. Piece of cake. She started writing the answer on the board –
And the room was disrupted by a loud rattling, grinding sound. Jenny clenched her teeth. It was coming from her shoulder! She tried ignoring it, but the rattling sound didn't go away. The class broke into more laughter. The teacher's annoyance grew by the second.
"Miss XJ-9! Is there something wrong?!?"
"Ah, no – " Jenny chuckled nervously – "I think it's just a piece of, um, space rock. From this morning. Heh heh. Sorry."
"Well," the teacher replied, "clean it out and finish the problem."
Horror. "Yes, Mr. Snitzenburg." Jenny reached over with her left hand, and grabbed her right arm at the shoulder. A few motors and clamps whirred and hummed. Snap. Twist. Pop. Her right arm came off in her hand. Sure enough, there were bits of dust and small comet debris lodged inside. She tapped her separated arm against the side of the teacher's desk, over the wastebasket, as if she were cleaning out a pencil sharpener. The class howled, and the geometry teacher grumbled with irritation. Jenny seriously thought about deploying one of her many particle beam weapons, blasting a really, really deep hole in the floor, and jumping in.
Outside, in the school parking lot, one of the seniors drove in at the wheel of a gorgeous red sports car that his Dad had just bought him. So what if he was late? Hey, with a car like this, nothing else mattered. He parked it across three spots – couldn't have any of these other loser cars scratching the paint on this baby. He hopped out and strutted around to the front with a cloth rag, buffing off any speck or insect he could find. There had to be at least twenty layers of wax on the body. It sparkled like a perfect ruby. He casually strolled along the side, lovingly wiping any dust away. The senior grinned into the side mirror, squeezed a wad of hair gel onto a pocket comb, and worked it into his do. The best car for the best guy. Ohhhhh yeah.
He didn't even notice the high-pitched whistling sound that came from overhead. He did, however, notice the bowling-ball sized metal sphere that slammed down into the hood of his car at two hundred miles an hour. He dropped to his knees and started sobbing as oil and steam sprayed out from the front of his ruined car. He didn't see the metal sphere crack open, and he didn't see a small, insect-sized object fly out.
It looked a little like a wasp – a robotic wasp, at that. It flew away from the crash site, whirring and buzzing, and circled the air a few times. Then it turned, and flew towards the high school building.
Jenny punched a hole in her locker door in disgust. She was in a vile mood. The day was already a write-off. One locker door wasn't going to make that much difference. Jenny slumped against it. Brad rummaged through his own junk two lockers over, trying to find his notes for his next class with one hand, finishing a donut with the other. Jenny retracted her right hand into her arm, extended a polishing tool, and started working on what was left of the scorch marks.
"I can't stand it!" she groaned. "I was up early today. I spent an hour getting ready for school. And then my mother sends me off on some stupid alien hunt! She was all like, 'My sensors are picking up Cluster activity, young lady!' But there was just some stupid comet. She's deliberately trying to ruin my life!"
Brad finished off his snack. "Wow. An alien hunt sounds pretty cool!" A glance from Jenny told him that was not the right thing to say right now.
Jenny just rolled her eyes and kept on going. "And then – oh, and then the teacher makes the whole class laugh at me!!!"
"So you had a rough start to the day. It happens to everyone."
"No, it doesn't. Everyone doesn't dismantle their arms in front of the class. Everyone doesn't crush doorknobs with their bare hands. Everyone doesn't pick up radio stations with their hair. You just don't know what it's like to be the only robot in school, Brad. Nobody does. Sometimes – sometimes it just really stinks."
Brad started paying a little closer attention. She sounded pretty down this time, and he worried a bit for his best friend. Part of him couldn't understand it. Jenny led the kind of life that everybody would dream of. He mentally ticked off the reasons. Reason one, she was a robot. Enough said. Reason two, she flew around the world saving lives and fighting bad guys and blowing stuff up. Reason three, she was a robot! Did I mention she was a robot? Her arms and legs had more contraptions and weapons and firepower than an aircraft carrier! Who wouldn't want to be able to shoot lasers out of their eye sockets? To Brad, it seemed the most obvious thing in the world. Yet Jenny had all that, and she wasn't happy. She'd come back from destroying an alien armada, and head to the corner pizza joint – even though she couldn't eat pizza. She'd rescue a bunch of coal miners from a cave-in, and then stop at the newsstand on the way home to buy a copy of Teen Blab Magazine. She'd rather spend a day at the mall than a day fighting ninjas. Geez, who wouldn't rather fight ninjas?
Jenny sighed, and turned to Brad. "Brad, don't get me wrong. It's just that sometimes, I think it would be great if there was just one other robot like me around here."
Brad may not have understood why Jenny was frustrated, but she was. "C'mon, Jen. I'll walk you to your next class. Just pretend first period didn't even happen."
She smiled. "Didn't mean to yell at you. I just needed to vent."
"What does she need to vent?" asked a mildly British accent from behind. "Should we put on gas masks?" Brit appeared out of the hallway crowd, looking ready for a fashion shoot. She placed one gloved hand on her hip, while the other wiped a streak from Jenny's locker door, just below the hole. "Vandalizing school property? Tsk, tsk, dear." Her loyal minion Tiff, never far behind, grinned like a hyena.
Brad rolled his eyes. Brit and Tiff Krust were at the top of the social totem pole in high school; they not only were popular, they defined popular. They could make you or break you. And to the Krust cousins, breaking was a lot more fun. Jenny's eagerness to fit in made her an easy target. "Don't you two have somewhere else to be?" he mumbled.
Jenny grabbed her locker door nervously. "It's no p-problem. I was just going to fix it. See?" The tip of her index extended and ignited, forming a small welding torch.
"Careful with that lighter, robo-dweeb," snickered Tiff.
"Yes, do be careful or you'll ignite the oil slick in Tiff's hair."
Huh? The voice came from a locker on the other side of the hallway.
The freshman turned from his locker door, shaking his head. He walked over towards Jenny, Brad, Brit, Tiff and the small assortment of other students who had gathered around to watch Jenny's humiliation. He waved his arm in the air under his nose. "Whew! So, Tiff, you getting a good price buying that stuff by the gallon? You little Goth rodeo clown, you."
Anger flashed in Tiff's heavily lined eyes. Nobody talks to me that way! The blond kid didn't notice, or, more likely, noticed and didn't care. He smiled back at Tiff's glare and waved at Brit, then eased his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. "Brit! Haven't seen you since summer school!"
Jenny and Brad exchanged a look. The group of students murmured. Brad smiled. "Summer school?!?"
"Yes, er, well." Brit smoothed the lapel of her tailored jacket. "Hello there, Drew. We were having a private conversation here before you so rudely interrupted. So hello and good-bye." The look in her eyes said: That's not a suggestion. Get lost.
"Oh sure, sorry about that," said Drew, folding his hands across his chest. "Very sorry." He took a couple of steps away, then turned around and interrupted Brit again. "Hey, what happened to your accent?"
Brit started losing her patience. "I said good-bye, creep."
Drew smiled. "Cool, you lost your New Joisey accent. And your lisp! The speech therapy worked great. You used to sound like Sylvester the Cat." He waved good-bye with his fingertips. "See you in the funny papers, puthhhy cat." He sprayed the words, cartoon-style.
Jenny was amazed. For a moment, Brit, the most popular girl in high school, and her personal tormentor, was struck speechless. The color drained from her face. And the students gathered around were snickering at her. Jenny hid a smile behind her hand. She didn't dare laugh. But she was enjoying this. It didn't take long for Brit to recompose herself back to her regal self. "Tiff, I think we've spent enough time in loser-burgh for one day. Let's go."
"Yeah," Tiff parroted. She shot an evil look at Drew. "See you later, Android."
Jenny's pigtails nearly shot off of her head.
What did she just call him?
With Brit and Tiff gone, the crowd dispersed back into the hallway traffic. Drew had walked back over to his locker to grab a notebook. Brad came over, grinning. "Dude! I've never seen anybody tell off the Krusts like that before!" He shook his head. "You are in serious trouble. Those two are connected."
Drew seemed only mildly concerned. "Connected? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'll never be elected as homecoming queen. I'll live." Until Tiff gets the football team to pound me into a pulp. Wouldn't be the first time my big mouth got me into trouble. Heck, it wouldn't be the first time this month. "Man, but those two love to hear themselves talk. I guess I've seen you guys around school, but I've never said 'hi' before. I'm Drew."
"Hey, Drew. I'm Brad." The two boys shook hands. "And this is my friend Jenny."
"Hey, Jen –" Drew's eyes widened as he looked up and realized who he was talking to. "- Holy smoke. You're the robot girl!" Jenny was used to that kind of reaction by now. It embarrassed her a bit, but it was better than screams of terror. She tucked one leg behind the other and gave a little wave.
"I saw you on TV last week," continued Drew. "Sheesh, you stopped a live volcano! You shot two – bolts of something – out of your hands and sealed up the crater. You saved southern Italy!"
"Well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do".
"And the week before that, when that Mob Boss tried to rob the Federal Reserve with an army tank. You ripped that thing apart like a soda can. And the week before that, you saved a cruise ship from sinking in the Bermuda Triangle!"
Jenny chuckled awkwardly. "Heh, heh, … what can I say? It's been a busy month."
"I mean, you broke a tank with your fists. That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"
Brad threw his arms up. "That's what I keep saying!" Then he noticed the clock on the wall. "Oh, man. Two minutes to next class. I've gotta split." He quickly grabbed a few things from his locker and slammed the door. "You gonna be okay, Jen?"
"Wha? Oh, sure. History is just down the hall. See you after school." Brad sprinted off and turned the corner. Jenny turned back to Drew. "Wow, I've never seen Brit embarrassed like that before. It was actually pretty funny. How did you know all that stuff about her?"
"Oh, we actually were in summer school together two years ago. I missed a couple of months of the school year. Brit – well, let's just say that she studies Cosmo harder than she studies Algebra." Drew laughed. "She and her buddies were snobs then, and they're snobs now. They treat everyone like garbage if you're not part of their 'little club'."
"Yeah, they can make life pretty miserable sometimes," said Jenny. "Especially when you're a six foot tall metal freak." Why am I telling him this? Jenny wondered, even as she spoke. Guess I just wasn't done venting yet.
Why is she telling me this? Drew wondered. He had a pretty quick mind, and it was starting to rev up to full speed. So the robot girl was getting picked on by the popular students. Well, break out the Kleenex. Welcome to my world. Deal with it. He wasn't interested in other people's sob stories, but now his curiosity was bubbling. "I don't get it. You've saved everybody's life in this school at least a dozen times. Aren't you, like, a celebrity around here?"
"Hah! Not likely." Jenny folded her arms. Apparently she was not done venting. "Half the people I save don't even thank me. They see a metal monster and freak out." She finally realized what she must have sounded like. "Oh, man. I just met you and all I've done is dump grief on you. I'm sorry."
"Naw, forget it," said Drew. "Actually, I sort of know the feeling."
No way! thought Jenny. "Is that why the popular kids don't like you? Because you're an android?"
Holy – ! It was a good thing that Drew was facing his locker at that instant, because his eyeballs nearly shot out of his head. Did she just ask if I was a freaking android?!?! He coughed a couple of times and said, "Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?"
"I heard Tiff call you 'Android' when she walked off. So are you?"
Drew said nothing for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into hours. He looked into Jenny's face and her eyes. She might be a robot, but you could read the emotion on her face like a billboard. She wanted to hear him say 'yes'. His mind raced, and he made a decision. He fought back a wicked grin. I can't believe I'm going to do this.
"Whyyyyy – yes. Yes, I am. I kind of don't like to talk about it," Drew said, rolling his eyes to achieve a sad-puppy look. "Yeah, the Krust cousins found out during summer school. And they don't much like androids. Or robots. But I don't have to tell you that."
Jenny was practically beaming. "Oh, wow. I can't believe it! I was sure that I was the only robot in school. This is amazing!"
There weren't many kids left in the hall, but Drew still hushed his voice. "Well, it's really not common knowledge. Probably for the best. Don't want to make people too uncomfortable." Okay. Calm down. Gotta keep this under control.
"You sure look human," continued Jenny. "I mean, really human."
Drew pinched his cheek between his fingers. "It looks almost real, doesn't it?"
"Wow – where were you manufactured?"
Uh-oh. "Um, well, where were you manufactured?"
"I was built in my Mom's laboratory."
"Hey! My Mom manufactured me too!" Took her nine months! That's true enough, isn't it?
The bell rang to sound everyone off to their next class. Jenny didn't want to leave, but she didn't want two tardy slips in one day. "The bell! Nuts, I've gotta go!"
"Wait a sec," said Drew. And now for the coup de grace. There was a reason he thought he might get away with this. "When is your lunch hour?"
"Fourth period," answered Jenny.
"Mine too. I usually go outside, because well, of course, I don't eat. Have you ever played baseball before?"
"Well, just with Brad and his little brother. Not in a real game with other kids, though."
"A bunch of us are going to play a little pick-up out in the schoolyard. We can always use another player. What do you say?"
The whole day had been such a disaster, such a string of humiliations, such a waste up to this point that Jenny had been ready to wallow in her somber mood for the rest of the week. Now she was actually being invited to join a group of teenagers and have fun. By another teenage robot. Correction – android. Heck, that didn't matter. "What do I say? I say I'll see you outside at lunch! Thanks, Drew!"
"Well, hey," said Drew, pleased with himself. "We androids have to look out for each other."
Jenny grinned, and popped a foot into the air. "See you at lunch!" In a split second, her pigtails rotated one-hundred eighty degrees and sprouted jet nozzles. Hot blue exhaust shot out, and the teenage robot blasted down the hall and into her History class, leaving a few scraps of paper blowing in her wake.
Drew shook his head in amazement and laughed to himself. "Oh yeah." This was either the greatest, or the craziest, idea he'd ever had in his life. It was sure going to be different. "Ohhhhh yeah, we androids do have to look out for each other."
It wasn't just scraps of paper flying around in the hallway after Jenny sped off to class. A small metallic wasp spiraled through the air, fighting to remain in control. Its tiny motors and servos whirred furiously, and barely got it to a resting spot on top of the hallway clock. The robot wasp shook off its disorientation and looked down the hallway at Jenny receding into the distance. Tiny lenses in its eyes hummed and zoomed, like little television cameras. Because they were little television cameras. Twenty thousand miles straight up, two sets of eyes were watching pictures from those little television cameras.
Coasting between the Earth and the Moon, in the middle of a cloud of dust and rock that looked an awful lot like a comet, in a large metal sphere about the size of a bus, two robots were fighting over the remote.
"You idiot! XJ-9 was right there, standing perfectly still! What were you waiting for?!?!" The robot on the left was a large, hulking brute, and bore an uncanny resemblance to a giant insect. He waved his two large upper arms around the cockpit; with his two lower arms, he balled his fists in frustration. He glared at his partner with eyes mounted on the sides of a large oval-shaped head.
His partner was far smaller, maybe no more than four feet tall. Half of that seemed to be his giant metal head, which bristled with blinking lights and short antennas. "Do you think you can do any better?" he protested in a mopey voice. After all, he had designed the robot wasp.
"As a matter of fact, yes," growled the big fellow.
"Fine then. Here's the controller." The little guy started to hand over a complex-looking device that seemed to have about twenty joysticks coming out of it. "Oh! Oh! Wait a minute. The controller is designed for somebody with six arms. Let's see." He pointed sarcastically to each of the big fellow's giant claws. "One. Two. And the other two couldn't work a pocket calculator." Then he waved his six intricate mechanical arms in the air. "Six! I win."
"You know, I really ought to pound the chips out of you."
Little Guy held up his three right arms in a gesture of truce. "Hold on. Okay. We have been cramped up in this ship for hours. Now is not the time to lose our cool. We have to wait for XJ-9 to deploy one of her devices. When she does, we will be able to fly the wasp inside her body and gain access to her internal subsystems."
"Then she will belong to the Cluster," cackled Big Fellow in a booming voice.
"Yes, yes, and then you can make with the crush, kill, destroy, yada, yada, yada. Whatever."
Big Fellow grumbled and backed off. "You do make a good point. All right. We know she is going outside to participate in a – human – recreational activity." He practically spat out the word human. "We will strike then. Agreed."
"Agreed," nodded Little Guy. He reached to his left, pushed a button, and a small panel slid open. He took out two bottles of green liquid. "Anti-freeze?"
"Oooh! Don't mind if I do." Big Fellow leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and cracked a cold one.
Continued in Chapter Two