[This is a grumpy-looking, aged twelve James T. Kirk the community gets today, just a few days after his "first" post here. The room he's in is not his own, but a white, ultra-modern looking place that hardly looks lived-in. He moves around a bit as he's talking, but the camera on the computer follows him. At one point, he passes a window and, if
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[Any articulate thoughts Jim might have had are gone now, and so he flops himself dramatically, face-down, on the couch. The camera helpfully does a closeup.]
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He does some mumbling into the couch, then finally looks at the camera to address Scotty again.] My mother promised me we'd do something together tonight. She promised.
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Oh. That sucks.
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[He pauses, because... Well. He was planning on going drinking again but he's already done that two nights in a row and this kid looks like he could use a distraction.]
Hey. You like robots?
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I'd like to see them, though.
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