“Van, reinstall my language chip!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Marcie. I took it out because you wouldn’t stop singing the filthiest limericks.”

“How would like your water vacuum-cooled the next time you take a shower, you-you-LOUT!”

“You know, there are more chips in there that could come out.”

“You wouldn’t!” Marcie said, aghast.

“No, probably not.” Van said easily. “That’s my point. We’re both making threats that we won’t carry out. We’ve been with each other for two years-”

“Two years, nine months, sixteen days, nine-”

“Show off.”

Marcie blew a raspberry through the speaker. Van was surprised. Where did she learn how to do that? A question for another day. Shaking his head, he continued, “Anyway we’ve been together for almost three years and we haven’t found anything worth writing home for.”

“Space is big and mostly empty.”

“Right. Lately, I’ve been feeling it.”

“Lonely?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, boss.”

Van was silent for a moment. “Marcie?”

“Yes, boss?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Yippee!”