[Panel 1]
[Nils]
Shopping's stowed, and those
clothes are in the wash.
[Bell]
Mm.
[Nils]
The slaughterbots should
have finished cleaning
upstairs in an hour or so.
[Bell]
Eh.
[Panel 2]
[Nils]
There's a microscopic
speck of dust on the cooker.
[Bell]
WHAT? CLEAN
ALL THE THINGS!
Oh, right. Hello
Nils. What's up?
[Nils]
You, apparently. You seemed
to be going into a Decline.
[Panel 3]
[Bell]
Well, I'm not tubercular enough
to be pale and interesting.
[Nils]
Well...
[Bell]
And my job doesn't exist until
They change the rules again.
For which there is no plan, no
target date, just little
twitchy piecemeal reactions.
[Panel 4]
[Bell]
If I organised my kitchen as well
as that, never mind specks of dust,
the mice would have taken over
and declared independence.
[Nils]
With Camille
and Beatrice
to worry about?
[Bell]
Yeah, that's a very male kitchen
strategy. Keep everything fighting
each other so that it doesn't have
time to rebel against you.
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