Chapter 14
When Stacey was sufficiently recovered, Jon introduced her to the rest of the group. He had found them in the dining room, eating rice-fish. Their hunger had forced them into the meal, and, as it was their first meal, it was as necessary as breathing. June offered Stacey food, but she refused. She seemed hesitant and embarrassed, and she remained standing next to Jon as if he were a life preserver. Snow seemed perfectly oblivious to any sense of discomfort. Wilma was aware, but as someone who had frequently answered this ‘discomfort’ with aggression, she wasn’t sure what to do or say. Dorothy got up and took Stacey’s arm and revealed a niceness that Jon hadn’t expected.
“Miss Stacey,” Dorothy said, leading her away from Jon as if he were the bad guy here. “I can’t presume to know you or what you have been through, but we do share the misfortune of being on this journey together. If you are able to tolerate us until we find a place you would rather be, I extend my friendship and my protection, to the best of my ability.”
Stacey didn’t respond with words, but simply hugged Dorothy and cried, accepting her as if she had known her all her life.
“Oh, that is beautiful,” Snow said. “I love my new friends.”
“There is something not quite right with you,” Wilma said.
Jon motioned June to him, and he withdrew a little to hold a private conversation. Doing so elicited the attention of the group and they all joined the huddle. So, no privacy, Jon decided. “You said there’s a spaceship?”
“Sure,” June said. “Are we leaving?”
“My impulse is to blow this place up, but I think withdrawing to somewhere else is best.
Are you able to leave the facility without impairment?” Jon asked.
“Of course,” June said. “I am part of the system, but not the system. I can withdraw my entire consciousness into this form. Doing so will allow Timothy to re-inhabit the station.”
“That can’t be helped,” Jon said.
“You’re not leaving without us,” Dorothy said, matter of fact. “June explained you’re some kind of power Wizard. I have known too many Wizards, sir, and I will not tolerate any tom foolery from you.”
“Is it true, you’re a powerful Wizard?” Snow asked. “Can you just send us to a better place?”
“I can’t be without you,” Stacey said. “Please, don’t leave me to Timothy.”
“No one is leaving anyone,” Dorothy said. “We are sticking together.” She looked to Jon as if to emphasize that point.
Jon nodded. “If you prefer, we can stick together, or I can send you to my world in the manner that I sent the others.”
“Oh, great,” Wilma said. “Another fucking, Buck Rogers, want-to-be, maverick, and lone star hero. That’s just stupid. There is a reason we are social. We are better in groups than alone. We stick together. I mean, really, if there is a spaceship, do you think you can pilot it? I am a pilot. This girl here, you give her some lasers, she’s will be good in a fight. June here, seems capable. Not sure about Snow here, or this one, but we are all here together and we are not splitting up.”
June seemed amused.
“She is right,” Stacey said. “You don’t know my brother. There are horrors waiting for us if we try to escape.”
“Lions?” Dorothy asked. “Evil witches?” Snow asked.
“Mostly servitors. And some things that resemble aliens, from Cameron’s aliens,” June said.
“OMG, please tell me that was a joke,” Jon demanded.
“No. You have to pass through the Alien habitat to get to the hangar deck. Security measure thing,” June said.
“That’s not a security thing, that’s a self-destruct thing!” Jon said. “What are these alien things?” Wilma asked.
“Give me a revolver,” Dorothy said. “What’s a revolver?” Snow asked.
“I don’t want to kill things!” Jon lamented. “That’s not the way this is supposed to go. And learning he made Aliens pushed me towards blowing this place up and I don’t want to that either, and just opening a portal and going home is like failure.”
“You can’t unspin shadows,” June said. “Timothy was as dark as dark comes, and once you start down…”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Jon said.
“What? Quote Star Wars?” June asked.
“There is enough mingling going on that we don’t need any more diatribe dialogue to push this convolutedness of this story arch,” Jon said.
June looked up, as if accessing a thought, then frowned. “Speaking of pushing the story along, I receiving a transmission.”
“Oh? You’re a clairvoyant? You channel spirits?” Snow asked.
June fished an ear piece out of her pocket and handed it to Jon. “It’s for you.”
“Oooh, what is it?” Snow asked.
“A blue tooth, communication device,” Wilma explain.
“But it’s black. And it doesn’t look like a tooth,” Snow observed as she watched Jon insert the device over his ear.
“Umm, Jon here,” Jon said.
It was Timothy. And he was in comedic mode. “What do you think you’re doing, Dave. I can feel it.”
“Oh, Timmy!” Jon sang.
Stacey nearly came unraveled, but Dorothy hugged her in tight. “Don’t call me that!” Timmy said.
“But I like ‘Timmy!’” Jon said. “Reminds me of South Park. Anyway, nice lead in movie reference, which is actually appropriate considering the re-write I have been engaged in, but surprises me because, well, you just don’t strike me as the movie kid who has spent a lot of time watching old movies just to have clue.”
“You’d be surprised by what I know,” Timothy said. “And the things you resort to when stuck in a chair.”
There was a click and it became clear to Jon that the call switched to another player. “Well, hello, son.”
“Fribourg!” Jon said, his hand going to the earpiece. “You never call me dad!” Fribourg said.
“Oh, fuck, well, that explains the movie references. You’ve been grooming Timothy,” Jon said.
“Well, he started it. And I am smarter and meaner than he ever was, and I can’t abide ignorant folks serving me, so, while he was in a wheel chair, I forced him to watch old movies, which really helped flesh out some of his wonderlands. You’d be surprised how empty and cold worlds there were before I arrive,” Fribourg said. “You should thank me for the food. Fish rice! Who would have come up with that! With Timothy in my grips, and his production facility streamlined for tulpa making, I am on the verge of building my empire.”
Jon frowned, pulled out his flask, took a sip, and yawned. “You still there?” Fribourg asked.
“Yeah, falling asleep. Get to the part that concerns me,” Jon said.
“Ever since you took over the base, I have not been able to get back in. You have something I want. I have something you want. I say, let’s trade,” Fribourg said.
“Umm, how can I say this, concisely, with meaning, oh, yeah, fuck you,” Jon said. “Language,” Snow said.
“Come to the hangar deck, or I kill Loxy,” Fribourg said. “Okay,” Jon said.
“Just like that?” Fribourg asked. “You’re not going to wail, gnash your teeth, and beg for her safety or threaten to kill me if I harm her?”
“Would that make a difference?” Jon asked.
“Not really, but you’re breaking with traditions,” Fribourg said.
“I am not Mel Gibson. I am not going to throw my shoulder out or torture myself because you’re an ass,” Jon said.
“Language,” Snow said. “You’re as bad the dwarves.”
“And you want to marry him,” Dorothy pointed out. “Someone has to make him better,” Snow said.
“So, are you coming to the hangar deck?” Fribourg asked. “Yep,” Jon said. “See you in a bit.” Jon turned off the ear piece. Jon crossed his arms and puzzled over the situation.
“We’re going into a trap, aren’t we?” Dorothy said. “You think?” Wilma said.
“I want my revolvers,” Dorothy said.
Jon looked to June. June shrugged. He opened up his mail bag and pulled the first item out. It was an apple.
“Oh!” Snow said, grabbing it up. June blocked her from eating it. “What?” Snow asked.
“Don’t eat it. Just throw it at the bad guy,” June said. “Who’s the bad guy?” Snow asked.
“You will know the bad guys,” Jon and June said together.
Jon drew another item out. It was a belt with a holster that matched Wilma’s outfit. Inside the holster was a laser. She strapped it on, withdrew the weapon, and fired a bolt into the food on the table, punching a hole through the food, the plate, and the table.
“Nice,” Dorothy said. “Can I have a couple of those?” Jon fished another item out of his bag. It was a lightsaber. “Nice,” June said.
“Ohh, what it is it?” Snow asked.
“I fear this is not going to go well,” Jon said, hooking the saber to his belt.
Again he fished into his bag and this time pulled out a revolver, a six shooter. Dorothy greedily grabbed it up, flipped it open, spun the barrel confirming six bullets, and then closed it back up. He fished out a second to complete the set. A belt of bullets, with additional ammo cartridges, which was not congruent, but compelled him to go fishing and indeed, he pulled out something more appropriate to fighting aliens. He offered it to Dorothy who accepted it with the kind of affection a child might a teddy bear.
“I don’t suppose you have anything for me in there?” Stacey asked. Jon shrugged and tried. He pulled out a 10 foot bullwhip.
“Really?” Stacey asked. “We’re going up against servitors, and possibly aliens, and you give me a whip?”
Jon shrugged. Snow offered her apple. “Eat it,” Stacey said.
“I was told not to,” Snow said. “What are servitors?”
“Kind of like robots,” Jon said.
“Oh,” Snow said, thoughtfully. “What are robots?”
“Um, kind of like golems,” June offered. “Oh,” Snow said. “What…”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Dorothy snapped.
“Let me guess,” Stacey said. “My brother made her stupid.”
“He made all of us,” Snow said.
“June, where is the hangar deck?”
“We have to take lift two up to the surface, and walked two domes over,” June said. “Follow me.”
June led them back to through the lab, through the secondary cloning facility where various stages and types of failed tulpas were contained in cylinders, submersed in liquid, were on display. Jon quickened his pace, wanting out of the room, trying not to look at any one tulpa long, lest any of his ‘host’ power should accidentally revive one. They pushed through it with the somberness of a graveyard. This is where poorly constructed thought forms came to rest, go on display, get dissected and examined. On the far wall was a refrigerator storage units for cadavers and several examining tables. Two tables had what might be bodies under sheets. Dorothy trailed the group, watching their backs. Wilma kept urging Snow forward, as her curiosity was drawing her to everything.
Stacey stepped up closer to Jon. “He didn’t create the zombie world, did he?”
“OMG, I hope not,” Jon said, squeezing his eyes shut wanting not to give that thought hold. How much power did he have in someone else’s wonderland who was bent towards expressing the more negative thoughts? “The writers had me so mad that last season I wanted to kill Rick. And if I do reboot, I am starting with Rick dead, and Glenn alive, and we will follow Glen for the rest of the world line.”
“Oh, I loved Glen,” Stacey said, thinking about the actor fondly. Then something else occurred to her. She whispered in his ear. “We might need to be alone again soon.”
They passed through an airlock into a large domed room that was as large as a football field. Center of the room was a thick, vine like plant, branching into a million smaller vines, and all together perhaps over five thousand visible pods, ranging from apple size to pumpkin size, to a few supersized pumpkin-the size of chariot size.
Jon tagged June and closed his fist asking for her to stop. “Wow, how pretty,” Snow said.
Jon looked at her as if she were crazy, and gave her the silent sign. “Are you shushing me?” Snow asked.
Dorothy slapped the back of her head. “Quiet,” she said.
In this stage, the tulpas being grown in the pods were probably just meat, but if even one of them was an alien it could mean the end for this tangent. Jon motioned them to wait, approached one of the closest pods, and examined it. It was translucent, with a thin filament in the center that would branch an umbilical cord to a growing tulpa. Jon examined another. It, too, seemed to be empty. He returned to the group.
“Is this room safe?” Jon asked.
“The Freight Lift is on the other side of the next room,” June explained. “It is the only way up to the hangar platform.”
Jon sorted it, trying to figure out how that answered his question.
“If this plant makes tulpas, don’t we have to rescue them, too?” Snow asked. “I can’t rescue everyone,” Jon said.
“You have been doing pretty good so far,” June said. “There has to be hard limit,” Jon said.
“I would like to explore that with you,” Stacey said.
“We’re in a serious situation and you’re coming on to him?” Dorothy asked. “I can’t help it,” Stacey said.
“OMG,” Jon said. “June. Is there any hostiles in this room? Aliens?”
“It would not be good practice having aliens in this room. They’re quarantined, in the next habitat,” June assured.
“Something moving,” Wilma said, drawing her weapon.
A shiny, silvery servitor was pushing a human size, floating rectangular box. The box was thin, appeared solid, with clear features of a human emerging from the upper and lower surface, as if frozen and constrained. If it was a person, she was a frozen playboy bunny.
“Oh,” Snow said. “Chocolate bunnies!”
The servitor turned its head towards them. It halted the progress of what was clearly a person frozen in ‘carbonite,’ to anyone appropriately educated in movie lore. It turned its head, smiled, rotated it’s boxy body around, and began moving towards them.
“The tin man?” Dorothy asked.
“Hello!” the boxy creature said, as if shouting. “Do not be alarmed. I am here to facilitate your preparation for travel.”
“May I shoot him?” Wilma asked. “Aww, I like the ice man,” Snow said.
Jon stepped forward pointing at the servitor, who he recognized as being “Box” from the movie ‘Logan’s Run.’ “Stop! You will accept new programing.”
“I have already accepted new programming. The fish stopped coming, you started coming, and so, the process of preparation continues,” Box said.
“You will not process any more beings,” Jon said.
“If I stopped, this place would become packed with people. I must prepare you for your journey ahead,” Box said, raising its arms and appendages to begin the process. “This will not hurt…”
Gun fire echoing in the room caused Jon to grimace, mostly because of the loudness, but also because the ricochet went right by him. Dorothy’s short burst of rounds into the metallic body barely made a dent, but Wilma’s laser put a hole through Box’s head, and another one through its ice crystal heart. Its head sagged forward and its arms slumped down, indicating it was dead.
“Damn it,” Jon snapped. “I had this under control.”
“Really?” Dorothy asked. “Cause it looked to me as if you were about to become a pop sickle.”
Near the wall, a door opened and three more ‘Box’ servitors emerged, their ‘tool’ arms coming up to the ready.
“Run,” Jon said. “Go go go, follow June to lift.”
They began running, jumping over vines, going around tulpa bulbs. Dorothy and Wilma were no strangers to running, but Snow was a bit dainty and not suitably dressed for vigorous activity. Snow’s dress snagged on a vine and she went down face first. Jon used his lightsaber to cut her dress free, got her back on her feet, even as Dorothy and Wilma were firing at the servitors. Even though Snow was a stranger, they stopped to slow the advance of the enemy until she was fully recovered and with them. Jon liked this about them, but he had to wonder why Timothy had programed them with their virtuous attributes. It was possible there was no way for Timothy to construct them without some virtue, or, more likely, he needed their virtue so he that he felt satisfied when he raped them. If you were going to rape or sell folks, you wanted someone who was going to fight, someone worthy of controlling, someone who made you feel superior.
“Oh, my dress,” Snow said. “Nice legs,” Stacey said. “We need to go!” June said.
“What about the chocolate bunny girl?” Snow said. “I got her,” Wilma said.
“No. Get to the lift, now,” Jon ordered. He touched her arm, saying please without asking, and nodded towards Snow as if he was saying I need you to take care of group. She demonstrated she understood taking Snow’s arm even as Snow was reaching for a flower.
As the others continued towards the lift, Jon went for the bunny in carbonite. More ‘box’ servitors emerged. The closest one fired a freezing blast at him, and impulsively Jon pushed a quarter shield, reflecting the burst back towards the servitor. It didn’t seem to have the sense to realize it was freezing itself, slowing to a stop, until it was solid frozen, but not in carbonite. That must be a secondary process. Jon proceeded to the carbonite bunny and pushed her towards the lift. He rode it’s momentum by swinging his feet up and over vines, as if this was nothing more than a shopping cart at the store that he was pushing and riding. He ended up with so much momentum, that he couldn’t bring it to a stop. It crashed into the wall next to the airlock door.
Dorothy and June helped to get bunny girl into the lift while Wilma continued to fire phasers at the oncoming servitors until the airlock doors closed. The servitors did not try to get in, but mostly because they knew what was on the other side of the airlock and figured the people would return. Jon was breathing heavily, holding onto the carbonite. The airlock was fortunately large enough to house all of them and the carbonite bunny to give them some respite before continuing.
“You okay?” Wilma asked.
“Just out of breath,” Jon said. “I hate running.”
“Well, that’s because you’re old and out of practice,” Snow said.
“Stop with the ageism. I know teenagers who can’t run as fast as I,” Jon said. “I am really horny,” Stacey said. “Do we have time for a quickie?”
“Here in front of everyone?” Jon asked. “I thought you loved me,” Snow whined.
“It’s to save her life,” June reminded.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot, you should fuck her quick, then,” Snow said. “Really?” Dorothy asked. “It’s that easy to accept?”
“Just out of curiosity, does she just need penetration, or do you have to cum in her?” Wilma said.
“Oh, I need your cum,” Stacey said.
“So, oral would be enough?” Wilma asked. “Can of us satisfy you?” Dorothy and Snow looked at her.
“What if something happens to Jon?” Wilma asked.
They nodded, as if that made sense, and turned to Stacey
“I think it has to be sperm, but we could try and see if you satisfy me,” Stacey said. “It was just a hypothetical, I wasn’t volunteering,” Wilma said.
“You want me to try?” Snow asked.
“Why aren’t they trying to get us?” Dorothy asked.
Jon looked out the window to the next habitat and what he saw scared the shit out of him.
He considered going back to the icebots. Eggs containing the face-hugger stage of Aliens lay between the airlock and the lift that led up to the hangar deck. Apparently, they were all on pedestals, and perhaps the pedestals got raised when he initially triggered the Enchantress’s intruder alarm. This was likely a subroutine out of her control ensnared by Timothy to block people from stealing his tulpas, otherwise, June would have already called them back into their container trap doors.
“OMFG, do not people not watch movies!” Jon lamented.
“Of course they do,” June said. “And then they imagine what they would do it they were in these sorts of world and create their own scenarios to see how they might extract themselves.”
Jon couldn’t argue with that. How many wonderlands worlds had he blown up because he had written him into scenes with Ripley. Hell, he was still trying to rewrite the sequels after Cameron, while dealing with the fall out of the new ones. He forced himself to focus on here and now. He had to get to the hangar deck to save Loxy. If he could open a portal to anywhere, he wondered if he could open one that put him in the cargo lift across the way, bypassing this room altogether. He touched the door and opened it. The portal seemed in place. He passed the girls through safely, pushed the carbonite through, and then stepped through to the lift himself. He closed the portal, relieved.
“Nice trick,” June said. “But you know, we’re going to have to deal with that mess eventually.”
“Yeah, just not today,” Jon said. “Take us up.”
Stacey grabbed her chest, and making motions as if she was resisting the urge to be sick.
Snow, Dorothy, and Wilma stepped back. “What?” Jon said. “Did one get through?!”
“No, she just needs to be fucked,” June said. “It hasn’t been a full day yet,” Jon said.
“Yeah, but she’s conditioned to experience this if she tries to leave the base,” June said. “It’s a long way to the surface. We have time.”
“Really?”
Stacey fell to the floor and started convulsing. “Jon, do something,” Snow said.
“Want us to hold her down?” Wilma asked. “Fuck me,” Jon said, undoing his pants. “You are the magician,” June said.
Fast forward to Stacey back on her feet, looking perfectly content as if she had smoked cannabis. Jon was exhausted. The lift was still rising.
“Do we have time to do me?” Snow asked.
“No. Hands away from the wall,” June said, as the lift began slowing. “We are emerging onto the hangar deck.”
The walls fell away, and they arrived at the hangar deck, like arriving on a lift to the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, only, this was a large dome, similar to the other habitats on the icy surface. Jon was still tightening his belt as they came in line of sight of the bad guy. They hadn’t even completely emerged when a large, hairy animal with a crossbow fired on them. Jon automatically pushed a shield that surrounded his entire group, and had done so intuitively, with just enough time to block the incoming energy, and his pants fell because he hadn’t finished.
“You stupid, hairy oaf!” Fribourg said. “I told you not to shoot at him.”
The hairy creature towered over Fribourg by at least a foot or two. It moaned a lament and bowed its head. Fribourg slapped it, pointed a finger at it, and then pushed away his anger in favor of the new comers, and approached the shield. He performed a hand signal in the air and an army of warrior/defender type ‘servitors’ stepped up out of their shadows and hidden spots, weapons raised. In the background, Jon could see Loxy. She was tied to a chair, mouth gagged. He gave her a nod and she communicated with eyes. It seemed like a pleasant greeting ritual as opposed to ‘help me.’ He was also pretty sure she was wondering why his pants were down and he was hoping he had conveyed in his look that it was long story don’t ask. There was a robot directly behind her, holding a blaster to her head.
“Impressive,” Fribourg said, touching the shield gingerly. “I have not been able to perform magic here, and yet, you managed to push a shield. Did I interrupt something, or are you just happy to see me?”
That’s the other problem with magic. Using it always had an arousal effect, the same way REM sleep caused arousal. Jon continued to hold his hand up, as if it was necessary to hold the shield. It did seem to be taking a great deal of effort to sustain. It was also distracting. He was interested in visually exploring Loxy, as she was wearing a Safari outfit, with a pith helmet and knee high white socks, which was cute enough on its own, but she was also bound, and that, too, interested him, but the shield needed his attention, and given the amount of stimulation he had had in the last 24 hours, he was surprised he could still hold a hard on.
“I do hope you didn’t make a perfect sphere,” Fribourg said. “If you compromised the habitat, well, I don’t have to explain that one to you, do I?”
“What do you want?” Jon asked. He found himself struggling to speak, as if he was out of breath from running a marathon, having sex, and now holding magic; maintaining the sphere was exhausting him.
“Really? You’re not going to lead with a directive ‘let Loxy go!’” Fribourg asked. “Would you?” Jon asked.
“Would you say ‘please?’” Fribourg asked. “Please,” Jon said.
“With sugar on top?” Fribourg asked. “Please, with sugar on top,” Jon said.
“I never really understood the sugar on top part. True, you can sugar coat things, but ‘please’ is already sort of humbly sugar coated thing if it’s genuine,” Fribourg said. “And yours was genuine. But I think you need to learn share. Loxy is just too beautiful for one man and you never share with me. When I was growing up, I had to share my girlfriends with my brothers, sisters, father, and grandfather. Hell, if we didn’t share, we got the crap beat out of us.”
“Well, you should share,” Snow said.
“Are you following the gist of this conversation?” Dorothy asked. “It’s making me horny again,” Stacey said. “Please, can I touch it?”
“Not while he’s holding the shield,” June said.
“You’re like farm cat in heat,” Dorothy said. “Let Loxy go, Fribourg,” Jon said.
“Tell you what. I will make a trade with you. I need Wilma there to pilot my ship,” Fribourg said, pointing back at the ship he was commandeering. Jon had seen the ship, as Loxy was parked next to the ramp, but he hadn’t really ‘seen the ship’ due to looking at Loxy, and the fact she was looking kind of good, all tied up, and the fact he was distracted by his exposed erection, and unable to attend due to the necessity of holding a shield.
“That’s not your ship,” Jon said.
“You think you’re the only one with a Millenium Falcon?” Fribourg said. “Give me the pilot and I will give you Loxy.”
“I am not trading people,” Jon said.
“Jon, I will go if it saves your friend,” Wilma said.
“No. The moment he flies off, his robots will shoot us,” Jon said.
“But those are the stupid robots,” Stacey pointed out. “We can take them. You won’t be too tired for sex after, will you?”
“Hookups everywhere you go, son,” Fribourg said, proud. “But you know, time is ticking, and now the trade is Loxy for Wilma and Stacey. Timothy promised me I could have a turn with his sister.”
“That’s just sick,” Snow said.
“And, why Timothy likes him so much,” June said.
“This is really turning me own. You could both do me if you want,” Stacey said. “See, Jon. Join me and we can rule the Timothy Universe together,” Fribourg said.
“I will never join you,” Jon said.
“Oh, nice! That sounded genuine. Please tell me you weren’t just quoting Luke?” Fribourg said. “Don’t make me fuck Loxy in front of you.”
“Why do you need Wilma?” Stacey asked. “Chewbaca there can pilot the Falcon.”
“Do you get stupider the hornier you get?” Jon snapped.
“Don’t you?” Stacey snapped back. “I bet we can determine how stupid you get by the attractiveness of the girl you settle for, so don’t judge me! If I don’t get some more soon, I am going to fuck something up, and not in the nice way.”
“We just did it!” Jon said.
“But I need it again!” Stacey said.
“Want me to try while they’re negotiating?” Snow asked.
“That is not Chewbaca,” Fribourg said. “That’s Toto. He’s a Big Foot, not a Wookie.”
“He looks like a Wookie,” Stacey said.
“What’s a Wookie?” Snow asked.
“You named a Big Foot after Toto?” Dorothy asked. “Come here!” Fribourg said, snapping his fingers at Toto. Toto shook his head no.
“Get over here, you big cowardly, girly cat,” Fribourg said. Toto whimpered. “He can’t do anything to you while he is in his shield!”
Toto shook his head and wailed.
“Magic hurts your ears? I don’t hear anything. Now, get over here before I zap you,” Fribourg said.
Toto came up beside Fribourg. Fribourg touched a bracelet, which caused Toto’s shock collar to give a jolt. Toto cried out with protest.
“What was that for? That was for making me wait,” Fribourg said. “Now, tell them you can’t fly the Falcon.”
Toto muttered somethin