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August 3, 2011

We stepped out into the airport. There were on average 2 and a half of us. Me, the girl who I can’t name without sounding pretentious and the variable who may or may not have been there.

It was unmistakably an airport. The floor was carpeted, to one side windows stretched up to the ceiling where they clashed with the iron girders hanging around up there doing god knows what. Forward and backward the corridor curved obscuring all information as to its length. To the other side there was a cream colored wall. In its shadow sat a black metal table with four uncomfortable black metal chairs, two on each side. We walked towards the table and I did not look out the window.

Sitting at the table was a tall bald man of African descent. His face was bony and stern, as if too little skin had been stretched over too many bones. “Look a girl!” he said “Haw haw! Maybe she can make me breakfast! With a soda pop maybe! ‘Cause that’s what girls do! Hohoho!” Struck by his peculiar brand of future sexism the girl was about to retaliate when we were attacked by wheel drones.

Spinning and mechanical, the came at us with red LEDs glowing .The man tossed me a lightsaber-esque weapon with a white plastic button. I blew up a wheel drone and tossed the weapon to somebody else. The sexist passed me another one and I tried turning it on but nothing happened. I yelled at him over the protests of the carpet which the remaining wheel drone was ripping up in preparation for its next charge and he threw a helmet at me. It latched onto my arm like a leech. It looked like a gleaming golden rams head, lord only knows why. I pulled it off my arm and put it on my head but by then the variable had finished off the other one. It looked pretty cool, blowing up in a spurt of orange, like someone spitting up orange juice. It was not something I had had the chance to appreciate the first time.

Then we beat him up, broke his right femur, told him not to be so sexist and left with the laser thingies. Later on, after we had collected our money it occurred to me that we might have gone there to do something but I just couldn’t remember what. I suppose it doesn’t matter, we did have a productive day, after all we taught somebody a lesson and killed two robots and that’s good enough for me. I just hope that guy isn’t angry, two grand is not all that much. Right?

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