” You know… Of the two, Clark Kent was the sexier. ” she explained to me with a sly grin. “He’s the one who kept ya guessing. Now, tell me more about this robot you’re building.
I leaned across the bistro’s table, tapped my index finger against my lips and whispered, “It’s very small. -The robot, I mean… about the size garden gnome…. like those ones with the pointy hat near the tomatoes”
“Hmmmm… fascinating.” Beverely didn’t know the Government was watching us. Across the street from the bistro a plain dark van was parked near the Arby’s. The secret agents dressed in black watched in disgust as we ate our tofu, and beans sprouts and soy balls. I didn’t much care for the food either… but I did like Beverley. She was smart, even for a vegan… and her glass eye sparkled with sunlight and shook vibrantly back and forth when she laughed at my jokes. I enjoyed her company. She even liked robots, if not meat.
“So, when do I get to see it ?” she smirked playfully “the robot, I mean”.
I knew this was going to be my lucky day.
“You know I really hate they way just stand there and watch us,” I said as I contemplated the previous hour. “You mean your robots in the corner of the room? I would have ask them to join us if I knew… …Clark” Beverley joked, staring with appreciation at me (with her good eye, flirting with the other) like new lovers do.
“No. No. I’m talking about those damn government agents!” I shouted.
Bad move. I blew the government agents cover. Just then, the men in black swooped in hand cuffed Beverley and took her away… leaving me in my bedroom with my garden gnome size robot. Its seems the government wasn’t after me or my bots at all. It was Beverley. I would later find out she secretly ran a black market selling magnet wrist bands and Faraday cages that blocked the mind control rays from the UFOs and satellites. The government wouldn’t tolerate it, especially not the Democrats.
I went down stairs to the kitchen and made myself a Turkey sandwich. “Gawd, I love meat”. Later, after I finished the robot I would name it Beverley, in her honor, and wonder if I would ever see her again. Just then I heard a voice in my head.
“Beverley?”… … …