The floater hovered before Ellie and blurted a tirade of colors and textures.
“Fuck you, too,” said Ellie.
The security procedures are insufficient to handle the rate of immigration.
“Yeah, I know, but them’s the breaks.”
“Just go back to the Ring and stamp them through. We’ll figure out the rest once they’re settled.”
After a particularly rude series of signals, the floater left and Ellie turned her attention to the halftrack.
A few minutes later Monica yelled from the house, “Dinner!”.
Ellie waved back. “In a minute, lover,” she called, then reached into the engine smiling contentedly.