The virgin & the bad boy (Gravity)

Appendix 2/Three guys named moe or a world without work

A/N As you know sometimes chapters don't work and this was one of them. We keep them in the attic here. This was chapter 4. 

/Outside Scarlett's flat/Atlanta 

Local Night time 10;30 AM 

Followers on Facebook 124 

I went over to see them. They had floated around at the party but I hadn't spoken to them.

"That's brilliant," said the first man. "Someone setting the fire alarm off to clear a party. We should use it somewhere."

"Hi I'm Scarlett. You may remember me from the safety demonstration just before we crashed and exited the plane " I said sitting down.

"Oh it was you flying that party. That would explain why I'm wearing a life jacket and holding a bag of peanuts," said the man.

"You got peanuts?" said the girl good humouredly. "I'm going back into the blazing inferno and burning like a pig roast until I get mine" 

"Hi, I'm RK Adams. This is Reb or Rebbeca Moreau and that gentleman is the esteemed Doctor Sheep."

"You cold?" asked the first man who called himself RK Adams.

It was a hot day and turning into a cold evening but I was warm enough in the lazy Atlanta heat haze.

"Yeh it's getting cold enough to liquefy methane* doesn't someone do something about the air-conditioning out here" I said looking at the party crowd drifting away.

"It's not air-conditioning it's this thing we proudly call weather" said Reb.

"Oh yeh I forgot. I'm on a planet where they handed control over the thermostat to a 300 mile bag of insentient gas" I said.

"Well the last time we tried turning it up it nearly killed us all. Insentient nice word" said RK.

"Really we use insentient all the time on Mar. What do you use on earth for something that can't think?"

"Ronald Bentham, or sorry what wasn't a line up for a joke was it?" said Reb. 

"It's too loud here. Let's walk around the block. I think I heard there is a nice restaurant or bar near here." said Reb.

The fire drones had arrived and were zipping around the buildings. I thought a walk would be a good idea. We began by walking up Peachtree Street past the park on our right and small take-out restaurants on our left.

"So, what do you do?" I asked, realising it was a silly question, no one on Earth worked.

"We are writers," said RK, indicating himself and Reb. "He just tells us what to write," RK pointed at the older, chubbier guy in the 'Code Warrior' t-shirt.

"I love reading, might I have read your books?" I said.

"Do you pay for books?" said Reb.

"Sure," I said.

"Then no, we don't write books people pay for. We write on wattpad," said RK.

We turned left along Luckie Street.

"Yeah, only robots are allowed to write books people pay for. Under the FALC agreement. On Earth, people aren't allowed to work, only machines," said Reb.

"We wrote a book called I'm a Cyborg's Pet - perhaps you've heard of it?" said RK.

"I've heard of a movie called that," I said, vaguely recalling the trailers.

We walked past a theater or something called Rialto.