Another shift, another dollar, another horrid day as a horrid man.

Written on the walls dividing the luminous City from the heat and hordes of the Wastes, fished up from a sea of graffiti and obscenities:

<span class="mu-s">The City will stand forever. We shall not let you barbarians in.</span>
<span class="mu-s">GAMMA-CORP, GO HOME! YOU'VE BEEN REPLACED!</span>
<span class="mu-s">something happened in 2185</span>
[Someone has smeared black paint over the message.]
<span class="mu-s">Kilroy was here.</span>
<span class="mu-s">Who the fuck is Kilroy? Why do I keep seeing him?</span>
<span class="mu-s">THE KING was here.</span>

<span class="mu-s">How's the weather down there?</span>
<span class="mu-s">It's okay. I'm okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah.</span>
<span class="mu-s">IF ANOTHER FUCKING RANGER COMES OUT HERE, WE'LL PUT HIS HEAD ON A GOD DAMN STICK.</span>
<span class="mu-s">YOUR KIND ISN'T ALLOWED HERE, ROBOT.</span>
<span class="mu-s">Why are all of your corporations labeled after letters? Shouldn't you lot be more creative?</span>
<span class="mu-s">It wasn't in the contract.</span>

The wall will stand, for now.

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