"FWLS13" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

in right now, but--"

"Can the act," Benson said. "I know you're there. The
answering machine has sounds of Fluki scribbing in the
background."

"Oh, hi Benson," I said, walking back into frame. "What's
up?"

"Could you PLEASE come over here and reclaim your
boyfriend?" Benson pleaded. "He's been moping around my pad all
night, eating Wheat Treatees and writing poems about endless
angst and chaos. I'm worried he's gonna start dressing all in
black and writing songs about crying soon, or maybe just set fire
to my couch. Again."

"No... I can't. He's gotta apologize," I stated firmly.

"What'd he do, anyway? He seems to be in denial or
something whenever I ask him."

"He called my work... JUNK!"

"Isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, I guess refuse does play a part in the design,
but I mean the final product certainly isn't junk."

"How long do you think it'll take before he apologizes?"
Benson asked. "I'm running out of Wheat Treatees, and frankly,
he's starting to scare the neighbors."

"I dunno," I sighed. "I mean, like, we've had the
occasional burp in our symbiosis before, but it's never taken
this long."

"Alright," Benson sighed. "But if he starts opening all the
windows and screaming at the sky again I might need to get him a
motel room or something."

The connection clicked off, leaving faint aftershadows of
holoimagery, which then faded away.

*

Geek and his pals were there the next morning with the
helicopter, and after a few tow ropes were secure, we air-lifted
the whole piece a few miles down the road to the art pavillion.
They protested about opening a skylight to airlift the work in,
until Geek explained that it didn't really have to be open as