“I thought you'd relent,” he muttered.
“What do you think your response will be next time I tell you we're auditing your experiments?” I asked.
The lab coat rolled his eyes.
“Where's your four footed shadow?” he asked, avoiding the question.
“Kyper doesn't like disasters. What are you working on?” I said.
“It's classified,” he muttered.
“Like going to blow up the planet classified or just the facility classified?”
“That depends on how long the power will stay shut off and how hot it gets.”
“Hot? Are we talking nuclear?"
“Not exactly,” he hedged.
“What exactly?”
“It's a friction device, refrigerator cooled.
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