Re: E-Bay Rules Okay

Who: Keto, E-Bay employees, stuff
Where: Medibay (or what's left of it)
When: Read and ye shall find
> Keto was in his office, sitting on the floor because there was
> nothing there. There was a knock at the door and several men in E-
> Bay uniforms came marching in carrying lots of equiptment.
> "We have a delivery from Mrs Tara Cleavage-FeBuggure for Doctor
> Xavier Keto. Please sign here Doctor." one man said.
"A delivery for me?" asked Keto, quickly jumping to his feet, "Of
course I'll sign! Do you have a pen? I sold mine."
"Here," said the same delivery guy, handing over a pen, "Sign here,
here, here and here. Oh, and here."
Keto did so as quickly as humanly possible. So now he actually had
some equipment again, it would appear. Life support equipment for
the most part - Keto recognised it as the items he had sold as Lot
#14783920372346145, the life-support equipment that had been keeping
Mrs Chrysler alive...yes, now that he looked closer, there she was on
the medibunk being wheeled in the door, still attached to the
"Lucky the new owner didn't disconnect her," muttered Keto, "Who
did you say the owner had been again?"
"A Mrs Tara Cleavage-FeBuggure," replied the man, reading off his
"Really? Interesting," blinked Keto. She must have some motive,
his brain thought.
"Thank you. Have a nice day now," said the man, and abruptly all
the E-Bay employees turned about and marched quickly out of the
"Does this mean you won't have to sell me?" asked a small voice.
"Possibly," murmured Keto, opening the built-in storage closet in
the wall and hauling the immobilised brain-robot out. Suddenly there
was a high-pitched beep from somewhere in the mound of equipment. It
took a couple of minutes for Keto to locate its source - his laptop,
bundled in with Lot #14783920372346145 as a 'free gift'.
"I've got mail?" he mused, opening it.
His eyes narrowed as he read it.
"Wait here," he growled, slamming the laptop shut, "I've got some
business to take care of."
"What business? You've sold most of your medibay," pointed out the
"This business is in the psychiatric department," replied Keto
coldly, "I'm going to have a word with Mr Cerebrum. He can't keep
doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Never you mind. Stay here. It's not like you've got a choice,
but stay here anyway."
With that, Keto stalked out of the medibay and through the ship to
the psychiatric department. As the door quietly hissed open, he
called irritably, "Cerebrum! I want a word with you!"
OOC: Tag!

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