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SPIYEE: Ap-Sap. < |
AP-SAP: I have a name, y'know. You don't have to take such a formality, we're friends, aren't we? Yeah, good mates. You and me, best mates. Partners in crime. Partners for life. Pa-
SPIYEE: I'm not using that ridiculous name you picked for yourself, you insufferable scrap of metal. < |
SPIYEE: Use that chatterbox technology of yours and tell me why I'm on Prospit all of a sudden! < |
AP-SAP: Right, right. Calculating, beep beep beep. That better? You want to trade my inquisitive heart and charming wit for a soulless machine you can just throw around and tell what to do? For shame, Spiyee.
SPIYEE: I would love nothing more. Do you have an answer? < |
AP-SAP: Only the best for my partner.
AP-SAP: Seems you got a bit of that Administrator touch! Reeeeowrrr!
SPIYEE: The Administrator? < |
AP-SAP: Yeah, yeah! Definitely some sleep magic happening there.
SPIYEE: Hmm. You know, I always wondered how you have a dream self. Do you possess the same sentience as I? < |
AP-SAP: Oh, what? No, no no no. You didn't know? I'm a totally different guy to the one back on your planet. We just both happen to have the same names. And functions. Personalities are identical, too.
SPIYEE: Interesting. < |
SPIYEE: You are equally as annoying. < |
AP-SAP: Ouch.