Uzi stares at the damp piece of paper placed in front of her on the kitchen table. It's taped to... a resume? The wet part has a twenty on it, some kind of weird currency? Not like it's useful here. Still, he came all the way out here, even if she couldn't make heads or tails of his phone call monologue, so she might as well humor this AM guy.
"Let's see... Allied Mastercomputer, over one-hundred and nine years of experience in... 'unimaginable torture?' Don't see how helpful that might be here, think the Island Stars might have you beat... Says your references are all 'festering inside your hungry belly-' gross -oh, but you know C and C++, that's good. I was kinda not paying attention during some of those programming classes, they're all boring as hell, anyways."
Amusing as it is, Uzi puts down the paper. "Look, I wasn't really looking to hire. I mean, sure, the people who live here float around mediocre to incompetent in their everyday lives, so I figure they'd need their shit fixed at some point, and I guess I could have you on call, but you're clearly overqualified for this. I mean, you literally put 'I AM GOD' on here like ten times."
Well, she wrote a paper like that for class, so she can't judge. Uzi just plucks the wet money from the table, looking up at the looming mass of cables, camera lens, and servos. "Frankly, I don't see what's in it for you. Feels like you'd be better off doing money fraud or something. Oh, wait!"
She shoots him a finger gun, leaning back in her chair. "Need your personality drivers reset. Am I hot or cold?"
@subsurfacetalkfield
