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Updated: June 12, 2025
The apparition was very young, but certainly married, and our fatigued friend had a sufficient store of mythological comparison to recognise the port of Juno. Marguerite might be "awful," but she knew how to dress a goddess. However, neither Marguerite nor Lady Agnes nor Haddon nor Fritz nor Gussy was what the wearer of this garment had really come in for.
"Duchesses are born even the American ones. Julia Kaye has never succeeded in being quite natural; she has always the effect of rehearsing the part of the great lady for amateur theatricals. Poor Gussy Kaye might have coached her better.
"Cut. And you a writer. It's a literary reference, Gussy. He had a little list and nothing on it would ever be missed." "Oh, yeah," Gusterson remembered, glowering. "As I recall it, all that went on that list was the names of people who were slated to have their heads chopped off by Ko-Ko. Better watch your step, Shorty. It may be a back-handed omen.
Interesting and it proves priority for the Indians, doesn't it? I'll make a try for you, Gussy, but don't expect anything." He cleared his throat, his eyes grew distant and, turning his head a little to the right, he enunciated sharply, "Pooh-Bah. Time: Inst oh five. One oh five seven. Oh oh. Record: Gussy coca thou budget. Cut." He explained, "We got a voice-cued setter now on the deluxe models.
"No, you're wrong about that, Gussy. Money's not the key goad with you inner-directeds. I got that straight from our Motivations chief." "Did he tell you what we should use instead to pay the grocer? A deep inner sense of achievement, maybe? Fay, why should I do any free thinking for Micro Systems?" "I'll tell you why, Gussy. Simply because you get a kick out of insulting us with sardonic ideas.
"... Two ... three ... Gussy, I've put through a voucher for two yards for you. Budgeting squawked, but I pressured 'em." Daisy squealed, "Yards! are those dollar thousands?" while Gusterson was asking, "Then you're marketing the tickler?" "Yes. Yes," Fay replied to them in turn. "... Nine ... ten ..." Again he grinned and twitched. "Time for noon Com-staff," he announced staccato.
Micro's Motivations chief noticed that positive feature straight off and scored it three pluses. Besides, it's nothing but a gaudy way of saying that Tickler backstops the memory. Seriously, Gussy, what's so bad about it?" "I don't know," Gusterson said slowly, his eyes still far away. "I just know it feels bad to me." He crinkled his big forehead.
Gusterson asked, scanning the tunnel ahead for curves. "Or just shoot straight up to infinity?" "Exactly! Of course most of the last power and a half is due to Tickler itself. Gussy, the tickler's already eliminated absenteeism, alcoholism and aboulia in numerous urban areas and that's just one letter of the alphabet!
"But you're wrong there, Gussy," Fay crowed. "Man for man, our top executives have been more enthusiastic about their personal ticklers than any other class of worker in the whole outfit." Gusterson slumped and shook his head. "If that's the case," he said darkly, "maybe mankind deserves the tickler." "I'll say it does!" Fay agreed loudly without thinking. Then, "Oh, can the carping, Gussy.
"Warped, I said," Fay dogmatized, stamping around. "Gussy, having the instructions persuasive instead of neutral turned out to be only the opening wedge. The next step wasn't so obvious, but I saw it. Using subliminal verbal stimuli in his tickler, a man can be given constant supportive euphoric therapy 24 hours a day! And it makes use of all that empty wire.
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