A Cup of Joe

“The Mother Board does not eradicate,” he told her sternly.

She gave him a pitying smile. “Really? Then what happened to all the people who the Programmers deemed unworthy? Where did they go?”

“They were relocated,” he told her pompously.

“Relocated where, David?”

He thought about this. “To somewhere else,” he said finally.

“Uh huh. Well, that is the party line, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “Look, you seem like a decent enough guy, and I must admit that you’re honestly more attractive in person, in a far more normal way, than your pictures would suggest, but I fail to understand why you’re in here, talking to me.”

David didn’t have an answer. He took a sip of his drink to give himself time to come up with a reason he could articulate. The liquid was harsh and bitter, almost rancid tasting, and tasted nothing like it smelled. He grimaced in distaste without meaning to.

“Not used to coffee?” she smiled.

“I’m having a cup of joe,” he informed her haughtily.

“Oh, honey,” she sighed, “they sure don’t let you out much do they?”

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