Plans
I'm going to get Herzog back. I'm sure this will work.
This morning I found a chorus of birds nailed to the wall of my kitchen. I am entirely sick of my cleaning bots. They're worse than cats. Honestly. I pulled out the nails and sent the birds back outside. They chirped indignantly at me until lunchtime.
Herzog would know how to fix the cleaning bots. He knew how to make things right. I only knew how to tear them apart and rebuild. I have constructed an elegant solution.
The cleaning bots have been repurposed into ladder-building bots. In teams of three, they construct ladder segments. Most are serviceable.
You see, I have a plan. Or part of a plan, at least. Doktor Everything, pretentious bastard that he is, is having some sort of fancy-dress ball at his castle. While he is distracted I am going to go 'round the back, assemble my ladder (my apartment is too small these days to build an entire ladder, thus the segments), sneak in a window and find Herzog. But then, oh cursed spite! I have to make a way to turn him back into a person. I can't walk out of the castle with a coat rack, and I certainly can't toss Herzog out the window. I don't know how breakable he is now.
Like the little Russian dolls that Aria used to have, my problems nestle within each other. I cannot make a life potion for Herzog without certain supplies. Herzog is the one who goes to the drugstore and the alchemist's. Herzog is a coat rack. I could go get the supplies myself, of course, but I cannot leave the ladder bots unattended. I have little faith in their ability to work unsupervised, and I would rather they didn't inconvenience any more of the local fauna.
I have a new idea. The mice don't like the cleaning bots, and they won't leave the kitchen. I'm going to go see if the mice will watch the bots while I go to the store.
This morning I found a chorus of birds nailed to the wall of my kitchen. I am entirely sick of my cleaning bots. They're worse than cats. Honestly. I pulled out the nails and sent the birds back outside. They chirped indignantly at me until lunchtime.
Herzog would know how to fix the cleaning bots. He knew how to make things right. I only knew how to tear them apart and rebuild. I have constructed an elegant solution.
The cleaning bots have been repurposed into ladder-building bots. In teams of three, they construct ladder segments. Most are serviceable.
You see, I have a plan. Or part of a plan, at least. Doktor Everything, pretentious bastard that he is, is having some sort of fancy-dress ball at his castle. While he is distracted I am going to go 'round the back, assemble my ladder (my apartment is too small these days to build an entire ladder, thus the segments), sneak in a window and find Herzog. But then, oh cursed spite! I have to make a way to turn him back into a person. I can't walk out of the castle with a coat rack, and I certainly can't toss Herzog out the window. I don't know how breakable he is now.
Like the little Russian dolls that Aria used to have, my problems nestle within each other. I cannot make a life potion for Herzog without certain supplies. Herzog is the one who goes to the drugstore and the alchemist's. Herzog is a coat rack. I could go get the supplies myself, of course, but I cannot leave the ladder bots unattended. I have little faith in their ability to work unsupervised, and I would rather they didn't inconvenience any more of the local fauna.
I have a new idea. The mice don't like the cleaning bots, and they won't leave the kitchen. I'm going to go see if the mice will watch the bots while I go to the store.