Bricker spent the next few seconds sputtering and wiping coffee off his suit. "What do you think you're doing, shoving a rod into my side? I should ta...e it for your own good! Can't I even come visit a pally of mine without being assaulted?"I cleaned off my chair and sat down. "Well, when you break into my office, make yourself at home, turning on my radio, who should I expect?"He didn't answer me. "You need to get a better lock on your door, my three year old niece could pick it. You're gonna. The teacher, Mr. Brown, was boring enough to put someone in a coma. He spoke in a complete monotone. I could imagine him as a robot, his mouth as a metal slot, the words coming out of his maw in index card size with computer codes, like those old computers from the 50's.I bit my lip to keep myself from giggling. It was easy to see that he had intoned his introduction over the course of many years, possibly decades. I tried to tune out the formless droning, my eyes following a little fly that. More

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