...crap.
Mitchell Hundred has a headache.
His headache, as one might get from the slightly aggravated expression on his face as he looks at the mechanical wonder on the table before him, stems from the fact that there is a serious warp in the metal on the outside of his jetpack. It's actually bad enough that it's cracked in a couple of spots.
Now, Mitchell is an engineer. And he built the damn jetpack, albeit in a trance, so he's not really worried about the ability to fix it. Mostly, he doesn't think he can find the parts or the tools to fix it here. Which, really, isn't a huge problem. After all, he has a door.
It's just that he doesn't want to face Kremlin until the damn thing is fixed.
Hence Mitchell sits with his slowly cooling breakfast, staring at the jetpack as he silently begs it to PLEASE STOP COMPLAINING; I'M WORKING ON IT.
His headache, as one might get from the slightly aggravated expression on his face as he looks at the mechanical wonder on the table before him, stems from the fact that there is a serious warp in the metal on the outside of his jetpack. It's actually bad enough that it's cracked in a couple of spots.
Now, Mitchell is an engineer. And he built the damn jetpack, albeit in a trance, so he's not really worried about the ability to fix it. Mostly, he doesn't think he can find the parts or the tools to fix it here. Which, really, isn't a huge problem. After all, he has a door.
It's just that he doesn't want to face Kremlin until the damn thing is fixed.
Hence Mitchell sits with his slowly cooling breakfast, staring at the jetpack as he silently begs it to PLEASE STOP COMPLAINING; I'M WORKING ON IT.