A Crossover

by Dudofall

Chapter Two

Chapter 2: Robert Olde walks into a bar

It hasn't exactly been the best of days. I've been fired (as the CEO of a company I founded) by my brother. The board of directors did what they could, approving a little salary for me, but that was as far as their supposed "loyalty" went. I feel betrayed, particularly by that rat Gillam. He had promised me..."Another beer?" the bartender asks.

"I might as well partake of another," I reply with a grimace. The beer doesn't taste good at this bar, so maybe I should search for better food and drinks elsewhere. I haven't exactly got the money for red wine and overpriced pastries at a puny table across the street, but there are better restaurants than this dimly lit bar with two stools and a floor that hasn't been swept in an eternity. I take another sip of my beer. My first impressions were correct, it still tastes awful. The door opens, and who should step in but Mary Patrick-Dauder, the twenty-something computer scientist working on my home's Monitor Project. "Did you make progress today?" I inquire. Mary's original Artificial Intelligence program was based on her personality, which meant that the two got along well. This new project is loosely based on a character from a popular video game franchise of old, and a mentally unstable character at that. Thus, I expect she has had the same lack of success that has plagued the project since its inception.

Mary scowls as she replies, "You know how it is. I say 'Hi I'm Mary.' The Monitor says, 'Hi Mary'. Then we stare at each other for an hour as he tries to hack into the lab's computer mainframe, and I turn him off to try again tomorrow. Just another day at the lab!" Mary plops down on the stool next to me, letting out a grunt of annoyance. "You're not paying me enough," she says as the bartender brings us another round of beers.

"I apologize, but as of today I've been fired, which means we may have to scrap everything you're working on or at the very least lower your salary." I turn back to my beer to avoid seeing her expression. Mary will undoubtedly make her dissatisfaction known at my house's board meeting tomorrow, so I'm hoping she'll just leave now. I need some time to sit alone and prepare for my delivery of the bad news at said meeting.

For a moment, she says nothing. The sound of the bartender washing dishes in the back is the only one in the bar. It must be getting late for there to be such a lack of road noise..."I'm sorry." I look up. Mary's expression one of concern, not for herself, but in consideration of the effects this is having on me. For the first time in all 45 of my years, I am surprised at her reaction. Mary puts her hand on my shoulder, saying, "I know how it feels to be ripped away from something you created. I'm sorry it happened to you too." She stands to leave.

"Wait!" I plead. "Don't leave now that you've tugged on my heartstrings!" She continues walking out the door, and before I can plead any more, my pager beeps. Celestia, again? How many times must I deal with that otherworldly monarch before she leaves me to my own devices? I sigh, pull on my coat, and set off for my combination research center and mansion.

Author's Note:

Edited 4/11/2021 for surprisingly little. Just a couple synonyms.