{First, a public phone call, filtered from drones.]
Hello again, Mayfield. I've been noticing plenty of new faces around town as of late. Plenty of people with plenty of questions.
Every question has an answer, friends---I can guarantee you that. And I, Edward Nigma, can help you find all of these answers. And more. Now, I'm sure I can already
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What are you doing up there?
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What are you doing?
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[And back to sketching. If you glance over his shoulder, you'll probably catch glimpses at what appear to be rather large interior designs.]
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Need any help, friend?
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Space, perhaps. Or maybe a hole. Or some kind of invisible flame-- a hydrogen fire.
Or perhaps it could be more metaphorical than that. An experience or a feeling.
How are you, Mr. Nigma?
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[And assuming she's responded once he's gotten a look at the calendar...]
I was having a good day.
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I'm sorry, has your day gone sour? Is there anything I can do to help?
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Question: Just how good are you with tools, hmm?
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Helium? What, do you need balloons for something?
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Ugh, why do you always make these things so difficult?!
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The answer is a hole!
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And he's beaming now.]
Heh, that one was easy!
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Perhaps I should test you with another.
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