(Untitled)
Yeah. It's a problem.
He's made it decades without it, mind -- but seeing Sam Winchester with that thing that looks like a chrome file folder on speed, and seeing Sam use it, is enough to get him thinking.
If you can password-protect the shit out of what you're working on -- and that's possible, he knows, he just doesn't know how yet -- it's ( Read more... )
He's made it decades without it, mind -- but seeing Sam Winchester with that thing that looks like a chrome file folder on speed, and seeing Sam use it, is enough to get him thinking.
If you can password-protect the shit out of what you're working on -- and that's possible, he knows, he just doesn't know how yet -- it's ( Read more... )
If he's not making an effort to conceal it, though, it leads to staring. And a desire to commentate.
Mostly he's fascinated by the pre-Pulse computers in the ads. So if 494 is sitting at a table nearby and peering at you, Bobby, it's nothing personal. It's just so very retro you can't not look.
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There's a couple of things worthy of investigation -- or at least that's what they look like -- in the Circuit City advertisement. Bobby puts it aside and moves on to the next one.
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An instant, and 494 is at the table, picking up the discarded ad.
"Are you done with that?" he asks, already flipping it open.
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Dry:
"Guess so."
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"I don't believe this stuff," he marvels. "The things you people make do with."
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He leaves off son. It's kind of implied. Not necessarily kindly, either.
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That's when he looks up and smiles at Bobby. He's practicing being endearing. Or, more likely, he's just being himself.
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"That so."
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He leans on his elbows. "What're you in the market for?"
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Huh. He was eight years old when this came out.
Things were pretty different back then.
"Well, for fun? For work? World domination?"
It's possible.
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Believe it or not, it's an honest question.
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