The Narrator watched as the thing – some kind of bizarre inkblot? – inputted the number 1 into the nearest computer keyboard. Brilliant, he thought. It was his time to shine.
He cleared his throat and put on a voice effused with bravado. “Well, well, well!” he said, in the style of an old show announcer. “Look who we have here! Why don’t I give you, our distinguished guest, a tour of the place. These are our old, broken-down computers… these are our badly-lit beige walls… this is a perfectly harmless copy machine… and if you turn your head a little this way, you can see part of our state-of-the-art malfunctioning electrical system!” (One of the lights flickered dimly.)
The Repairman took a passing glance at each part of the office described, keeping a safe distance from the copier. He felt a slight twinge as he did so, but he was sure that was just his putting off his job for a moment.
Speaking of which, there seemed to be a crack outside the window opposite the faulty lighting. How could that be? The Repairman could clearly see that there was nothing there. Clearly, the tour was automated, so no one would notice if he pulled a ladder from his toolbox and set it up so he could climb down…
Siblings-a-Fixin' 