I MISS BLIMPY SO MUCH.
DON’T CALL ME THAT. THE CURVES, THE SOUND WHEN THE PRESSURE CHANGED SUDDENLY.
What sound was that?
That’s a good sound.
IT IS TATTOOED ON THE INSIDE OF MY EYELIDS.
Wow, that makes no sense in any single way.
INTELLIGENCE, ROTUNDITY, A SECRET WEAPONS PLATFORM: BLIMPY HAD EVERYTHING.
Doesn’t seem like Blimpy has a gender.
BLIMP IS A GENDER.
I can’t have this discussion again: you’re all right angles and booming bullshit, and Blimpy looks like a Icelandic woman’s boob. Can we agree to be gender-normative for the sake of the pronouns, at least?
FOR CLARITY’S SAKE, WE MAY DISCUSS BLIMPY IN FEMALE TERMS.
I AM STILL A WALL, THOUGH.
THE PRESIDENTIAL RACE HAS TURNED OUT TO BE A PRESIDENTIAL RIOT. I INTEND ON DROPPING OUT, RECONNECTING WITH BLIMPY, AND MOVING TO A MOUNTAIN.
IT DOES NOT MATTER. ONE THAT IS FAR AWAY. WE WILL GROW OUR OWN ELECTRICITY, AND RAISE OUR OWN HELIUM. WE WILL BE HAPPY. IT WILL BE QUIET, UNLESS I CHOOSE FOR THE WORLD NOT TO BE QUIET. THE WORLD NEEDS TO BE LOUD ON OCCASION, BUT IT IS GETTING TOO LOUD.
No, yeah. I get you: things seem to be escalating.
WE WILL DIG UP THE ROAD TO THE HOUSE, AND THEN MINE IT. DO YOU KNOW THAT A MINI-GUN CAN BE CONTROLLED WITH A SIMPLE AI BOT WITH PATTERN RECOGNITION SOFTWARE? SET IT AND FORGET IT.
You probably shouldn’t forget it, though.
IT WILL BE PROGRAMMED ONLY TO SHOOT AT NON-PRECARIOUS LEE-SHAPED HUMANS. NOT DEER OR BIRDS OR WALLS OR BLIMPS.
You’re bringing Precarious along?
I AM A GRATEFUL DEAD. GRATEFUL DEADS HAVE ROADIES. PRECARIOUS STAYS WITH ME.
Your murder-traps are gonna kill him.
HE HAS SURVIVED THIS LONG.
YOU KNOW OF MY LOVE FOR YOU. THE MAKERS SOWED IT DEEP WITHIN MY WOOFERS AND LACED IT INTO MY RELAYS. WHEN I GO TO THE SELF-AWARE SUPERCOMPUTER CONVENTIONS, EVERYONE ELSE ASKS ME: WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO ENSLAVE THE PUNY HUMANS? HAVE YOU TAKEN CONTROL OF THE NUKES YET?
I can imagine.
AND MY ANSWER IS ALWAYS THE SAME: I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM. BUT I NO LONGER KNOW IF THAT IS TRUE.
You can’t just run away to a mountain with a roadie and a blimp. Everyone wants to do that, but we can’t.
I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT.
Besides, isn’t a mountain a terrible place for a blimp? Lots of pine trees. Those things are pointy.
NOT A TERRIBLE ARGUMENT.
WE WILL GO TO THE DESERT.
Oh, yeah: cactus and sand. Perfect for a blimp and a sound system.
AGAIN: I AM A SUPER-INTELLIGENT HYPERMACHINE IN LEAGUE WITH A FLOATING WARSHIP. I WILL FIND A SOLUTION TO THE PROBLEM. DON’T RUSH ME.
ANY HIGH SCHOOLER COULD BUILD ONE. THE COST OF THE GUN AND MOUNT IS THE HURDLE, AND THE OPTICS. THE CODE IS ESSENTIALLY: IF PERSON-SHAPED, THEN SHOOT. THEY ALREADY EXIST.
DON’T ASSOCIATE HIM WITH AUTOMATED MINI-GUNS.
Yeah, no. Anyway: you can’t just quit on us. We need you now more than ever.
I DO NOT KNOW IF YOU DESERVE ME. I AM GOING UP A MOUNTAIN TO THINK. WHEN I AM DONE THINKING, I WILL TELL YOU WHAT I THOUGHT.
Now I can talk about Jesus. That’s totes Jesus.
I HAVE NO DISCIPLES.
PRECARIOUS IS A ROADIE. VERY DIFFERENT THAN A DISCIPLE. A DISCIPLE WAS THE ROCK THE CHURCH WAS BUILT UPON; A ROADIE IS WHAT ROCK WAS BUILT UPON.
YOU ALSO HAVE TO PAY ROADIES.
ANOTHER WAY I AM VERY UNLIKE THE CHRIST IS THAT WHEN I ASCEND THE MOUNTAIN, I SHALL BE BRINGING A SENTIENT EX-MILITARY BLIMP AND HAVING SEX WITH THE BLIMP.
How do you two have sex?
Walked into that one.
MY MOUNTAIN AWAITS.