Chapter 8:// Paying back

 

The PAN was abuzz.

 

walkmand> I don’t get it.

rfid> CF02032533139342DFDC1C35

armd> It’s crystal clear. Our beloved user wanted a testament of my superiority in arm-wrestling.

parrotd> OK. I can understand that. Man has always had a fascination with machinery. But what about the rest?

 

The daemons metaphorically looked up at the row of photographs amazingjimmy@poseidonsealines.com had posted up only minutes before. The first one was of the two men, sitting across on the table, doing arm-wrestling and the user clearly beating the life-guard in strength.

The rest were like this: the user with a “Vader” black helmet, angrily choking the air and the life-guard struggling for breath on his knees. The user with an outstretched hand, a mean face, and the subtitle, “talk to the hand.” The user and his friend next to each other doing a “Vulcan salute,” whatever that was. A 6 sec video of the two headbanging with metal music in the background and doing a gesture with their hands. And on and on.

 

armd> The user loves me.

walkmand> I provided the soundtracks!

parrotd> Shut up everybody.

 

No one did.