Quoted By:
Below you, you have been SEEN and you have been appraised and found— if not satisfactory, at least worthy of improvement. Not immediately vaporizable. You know this because the information's been stamped into every one of your brain-wafers, which, when reassembled, have formed a kind of 3D-carved block-letter missive that juts unignorably into your regular flow of thoughts like a sea cliff, or something. You're more than a tad woozy. The missive, if you were to analyze it, isn't so long as what you just said. It might be something more like this:
CHASSIS.
IMPERFECT.
Somehow that connotes the above, though, bolstered by the fact that you are not, in fact, vaporized. You're still just hanging above the eyeball, red stuff crawling on your face. Blech. Up your nose, even. Are you supposed to be doing something?
Is the eyeball supposed to be doing something?
Is Richard, far, far above? There: the faintest of jerks at the rope. You ascend half an inch. Richard just needs to get into the groove, you reassure yourself, and you'll be cruising upward, back to real reality and your real body and Earl, who hopefully isn't eating anybody. He isn't eating anybody. Positive thinking.
Until such a time as the groove, though, you're still here. Still being looked at the most you're ever going to be looked at. And worst of all, you have the awful feeling <span class="mu-i">you're</span> the one supposed to be doing something. Would wordlessly bailing out be... rude?
Oh, dear.
>[1] Best not to play around with giant eyeballs. (That's one of your mottos.) It wants to, er, improve you? That's fine. Easy. You like improving. (Specific options in morning, so please check back. For now, feel free to write-in if there's something in particular you'd like to "improve.")
>[2] Best not to play around with giant eyeballs, but in the opposite direction. Bail wordlessly, and hope it's nearsighted.
>[3] Write-in.
