Subject: 'Oh, dear, we seem to be late.'
Author:
Posted on: 2018-05-15 12:26:00 UTC
'Are we really, Bingle?'
'Oh, yes, quite certainly, Finch. In between checking this watch of mine, and checking our, frankly, unnecessarily large collection of prime condition wall clocks-'
'Your collection.'
'I can confirm with a nearly one hundred per cent accuracy that we do, in fact, seem to be late.'
Finch didn't even look up from his magic eye book, which he had scientifically determined to be (as of now) the single best way in which for any sapient, intelligent being to ignore the crawling and cold death that slowly comes for us all. 'Well, that-s a bloody shame.
'Very much, oh, absolutely.'
'Yes. That-s horrid. We can-t have that.'
'The guilt we will feel, Finch, when we come back to there, eventually!' Bingle wailed, glancing at his watch and backing into his corner of the RC and under the sheets of his bed.
'I-m burning alive with guilt, myself,' Finch agreed, optical sensor really narrowing hard at this particular page.
'Yes, yes indeed. We are late. Terribly, terribly late.'
Finch! Bingle! You, you're late!
Bingle crumpled out of his bed, spilling the sheets to the floor and smashing his face on a tile.
Ummm! What are you two doing? Ninetwo was standing in front of the swinging door like a foreign conqueror.
Finch was a trained veteran in these situations and he immediately charged on the offensive with a pointing actuator. 'What the hell are you doing in here? How did you even get in here?'
Well, I-
'Is that a bloody key?!' Finch pointed down at Ninetwo's frond, nestled in which was a key to their RC. 'Did you unlock - do you have a copy of -' He glared at Bingle. 'Did you give her a copy?!'
'I did no such thing,' Bingle argued from beneath his sheets.
The door swung open again: 'Hrmmm, yeah, guys, we need to go, we're late.' Anne swayed in, taking in the nooks and crannies of the room. She lazily swung another copy of their RC's key on her finger.
'You have one, too?!'
'Hrm? Oh, yeah, yeah. Bingle gave me a couple.' Finch gazed at her with a red melting rage and she was as solid and untouched as a cliff wall.
'Did I really do that?' Bingle exclaimed, pulling himself up and glancing at Finch. He made a face like he was being torn in half by an invisible giant. 'Oh! I did, yes. Ahah!'
'Bloody give!' Finch hissed, snatching the keys from Anne and Ninetwo.
Umm. I have a spare, too. I'll just get that out-
Finch grabbed it out of her frond before she even fished it out of her pocket.
'Shoo! Out!' and he beat Anne and Ninetwo, stumbling, out of the RC. And he pulled the door shut and hovered right back to his book.
'A damn shame, Bingle, that we-re late.'
'Very tragic, yes, Finch,' Bingle agreed, rolling into his bed and shutting his eyes. 'But there really wasn't anything we could do about it.'