<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b2/Redoveralls.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Bat-R-REE<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Overthinking it<br/><strong>Location:</strong>B37 'Briefing Closet'<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Myst; OPEN<br/><hr/>Bat watched as the woman tugged at his overalls, sniffing at the reflective material, running it between her fingertips.  This did not alarm him much.  He'd been catching admiring glances from other citizens ever since he'd been issued them, glances usually reserved for his bicycle.  Of course this woman did have her own pair so the novelty should have worn off somewhat.  He attributed her behavior to overexcitement though, which was understandable, as they were about to shoot trouble for Friend Computer and was anything more rewarding than that?  Also he was in a good mood.<br/><br/>At least until she questioned his bike.  "The bike is mine," he answered gruffly, wrapping one of his big hands protectively around the handlebars.  "It is a troublehshooter bike."  It was an Armored Car Escort bike actually, but it belonged to a troubleshooter, namely him, so that was kind of the same thing.  "The bike's loyalty cannot be questioned."  He was firm on that but when he followed her gaze towards the collection of dirty mops, he had to grant he did not like the looks of them.  "I can't vouch for the mops.  Perhaps we should get rid of them.  It could be a test."  His hand reached to grab a mop and heave it from the room manfully, but stopped halfway.  "…unless the test is to see whether we tamper with the room without Friend Computer's permission."<br/><br/>Suddenly there was too much thinking going on.  Bat didn't like it.  That was how trouble started, trouble that needed shooting to resolve.  Once a person started thinking too much, their brain would lose all control, and before they knew it they'd start asking the sorts of questions only commies and traitors asked, and so have no choice but to turn themselves in to Friend Computer for proper disintegration.  He'd seen it happen.   Or maybe dreamed it.  Or maybe he'd just made that all up right now.  That's just the sort of confusion that happened with too much unregulated thinking.<br/><br/>Best put a stop to it, he decided, grabbing his PDC.  "Friend Computer, this Troubleshooter Bat-R-REE-1 with…"  He stared at Myst for several long moments, slowly realizing he didn't know her name.  Suspicious.  "…another troubleshooter from briefing room B37..."  He popped his head out of the door to recite the rest of the digits.  "…in the Vat sector.  Reporting for duty.  Awaiting instructions."  A frown creased his face, feeling he'd left something important out.  He touched the send button again.  "What should we do with the mops?"