"FWLS37" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

Twinkie, though, he was what you called a like-minded
individual. Fun-loving. Connoisseur of the truly wicked
practical joke. Seemingly in love with life. The only thing we
didn't have in common was computers... Twinkie swore never to
touch a trode-band again after mopping up in the local arcade,
whereas I, Chuck, was the supreme game junkie.

So, we'd spend a few laughable hours on the job, playing
with the minds of brain-dead businessmen and musicians that
pulled up to the window for food. The manager couldn't stand
either of us, but we were the only people in the entire
'restaurant' that didn't work slower than caterpillars.

"Anybody else out there?" Twinkie asked, taking a new batch
of 'potatoes' out of the fryer. "I wanna brush up on my
Esperanto."

"Remember last week when you tried that and it was the dean
of Foreign Languages at the window?" I grinned. Twinkie hated it
when I pointed out jokes that didn't work.

"Well, it would have been funny if I had pronounced it
right. Getting Esperanto lessons via a McSpackle's intercom is a
bit embarrassing."

"Shift's almost up... sun's almost down. Where to tonight?"
I asked, lower bits of my brain handling the menial work of
'cooking'.

"I don't have enough cash to hit the Peasluv again..."

"Could always go down to the arcade."

"I'm not THAT desperate," Twinkie coughed, wrenching his
face in disgust. "I can't see how you stand those things,
especially the VR ones. They're too boring."

"Look, just because you're reigning champion at every game
that exists doesn't mean I don't need practice, bud."

"Alright, alright, arcade. But don't even TRY to get me to
play that annoying multiplayer demon-stomping shotgun-blasting
with you. You know I hate it."

"Hey, you've got my word."

*

"What ever happened to 'your word'?" Twinkie asked, throwing