With the Vulcan Mind Meld completed and some time on the Ministry's Obstacle Course (otherwise known as the floor and stairs) under his belt, the recruit is now ready for some real-world action.

Of course, at only seven weeks old, travel time to and fro takes a little longer than his instructor (Madame P) has patience for. Therefore, the recruit is placed in her pocket to speed the process along.

This also has the beneficial side effect of knowing the recruit's exact location and just what he's up to.

I dislike the fact that UHH imposes a 20Mb limit on posts. (That assumes, of course, that the bandwidth/download limit imposed on images would be similarly imposed on a worded post, and I don't know whether that's true, is an urban legend, or is instead some undigested bit of yesterday's dinner that's talking to me.) Why, you may ask, do I dislike that 20Mb limit? Answer's easy: there's so many things that --if I took the time to think about them and write them all down-- I dislike that to list them all would prob'ly run up into stratospheric terabyte territory before I got to the stuff that really gets my goat, and that I abhor with the heat of a thousand suns. What's the word for a million terabytes? Galactobyets or something? That's a lot of dislike hatred. With an exclamation mark!

And after writing all that down, what I'd REALLY "dislike" is if some oh-so-brilliant Hogified responder replied with a sneering, snarky, completely witless comeback of the likes 'yeah, but tell us how you REALLY feel.' The results of something like that would be Front Page Of The New York Times epic. We're talking rip their throat out with my filed down teeth epic.

The good news is that I don't think about that dislikey stuff all that much. Or --after I've taken my blue pill and my three little red pills firstest thing in the morning-- ever at all, really. I like ptofeggery. It's calming.

How many bytes have I used up here??? Techies??? Anybody??????????

Can't blame you for the confusion. Omi--in this case--is short for 'Naomi,' as we couldn't be bothered to use three syllables to call her, lol. The laser pointer is what she lives for, and she'll chase it till she drops. We try to limit her time with it as she's getting on a bit, and don't want her having a heart attack.

As for Madame P's involvement, she's clearly in it up to her neck. She appears to have the Martian bamboozled, and he may wait forever for that report from the frog/Colonel. I'm sure she has her reasons, and my faith in her will never waiver, but...

Thanks, Marion. I don't want to come right out and say the Martian's a tightwad, so let's just say he's very careful with a dollar.

Omi has certainly earned some consideration for her suffering at the Colonel's hands, but good luck to her getting an extra nickel from His Highness, lol.

And no surprise to find that Madame P is somehow involved in this caper. Not sure what she's up to, but I'm sure she has the Ministry's best interests at heart. Probably.

Thanks for stopping by and your positive comments, always very much appreciated!