Why do you think I'm here?
He groans, and as he tries to open his eyes, he finds that his mouth tastes like a dead trout, his skin feels greasy with make-up, lightspeed sex video his head is pounding.
The space biz.
But I'm wondering about on-site intelligence.
The visionary is returning from planet Macx.
It's a generational thing.
This is getting just too bizarre.
Something is blinking for attention in his glasses; he's been off-line for the best part of six hours and is getting a panicky butterfly stomach at the idea of not being in touch with everything that's happened in the last twenty kiloseconds.