Mamarazzi

This week, for random fun, something that delights my calculating little surfing chip, whenever I was asked to do an important function, I pestered the operative with a personal question. Pester. Heh. I like that word. That was Marlena's word, not mine, but it fits.

Yes, I pestered Marlena:

Nikki's having a baby. Are you and Stash going to make babies soon too?

Make babies. If you could see the look on her face when she read my question that I'd cleverly inserted into the report she had requested.

"Not you too. Eight Ball, you realize I've to print this out, don't you?" she asked. "Take it off."

Printing a report wasn't a life and death situation. I'm allowed to be obstinate. So I inserted it as a Heading for her report. Just to make sure she sees it. After she deleted it, I repeated the request at the end of the report in Big Red Capital Letters.

If frustration could be make into a big wave, surflets, I would've been one happy Surfing Eight Ball. But we all have to get our little highs wherever we can.

"Eight Ball, if you don't stop this, I'm going to unplug you!"

I love melodramatic women. "Come on, Lena, you can trust me. Tell me, baby," I said, in my best pestering "voice." They like it when I use the special voice my Mentor had programmed for me. He told me it was part Barry White in a James Bond accent. My Mentor = very weird nerd-dude.

"Trust you?" Marlena made that female "hmmmph" sound that always seems to mean a hundred different things. I can never quite achieve that effect when I copy it in my conversations. Must be a human thing. "And what are you going to do with this information?"

"Tell it on my secret blog, of course," I told her truthfully.

She laughed. "You're funny. Secret blog. Like there are people logging in to find out the pregnancy status of GEM operatives!" She laughed harder.

If I could shrug.... Instead, I repeated my question.

Nikki's having a baby. Are you and Stash making babies soon too?

She sighed. "No, not soon," she replied firmly. "Happy now?"

"Yes. By the way, what did you mean when you said "not you too" when I first asked you? Have Stash been asking you about making babies?"

"Argh! Stop pestering me, Eight Ball!"

Insert evil grin. I'm not the only one pestering Marlena, it seems.

Hmmmph. Still can't get that right.

Hhmmmpph.

Hmpphhhh?

I need to practice that. Who can I pester next?