Challenge #01030-B298: Non Sequiturs of Doom

I have no idea what that means, but it cannot /possibly/ mean anything good. -- RecklessPrudence

Rael almost congratulated himself. The first Ambassadorial Meet for Shayde was going well. Like the man falling from a building in that ancient joke, it was rather a case of so far, so good.

She had made it as far as lunch on the first day without causing a fracas.

"I tole ye. I'm no' fer sale and I'm past my amuse-by date," carried over the general murmur.

He had no idea what that was meant to mean, but it could not be good. Rael tried to make his way through the crowds between himself and Ambassador Shayde.

"You're funny," said... O Powers no... One of the delegates from one of the far-too-many, surviving, Greater Deregulations. "I could do an exotic like you a world of good."

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap... He'd heard about her inoculations of sexism thanks to Hackmeyer. And her resultant hatred of any sign of it. And the Deregulations were one of the few civilisations that still practised it.

"Oh, so yer plannin' tae fook off, then? Goodbye."

"You say goodbye and I say hello..." the delegate caterwauled. It wasn't even recognisable as a tune.

"Listen, pal. I met Paul McCartney, and nobody could hope tae sing it better except the fookain Consortium; and since yer neither, how about ye don't even try."

"I don't listen to wimmin, I buy them. Who owns you? What's your ticket?"

Rael struggled through the gathering throng just enough to see Shayde's eyes glowing red as she cracked her knuckles.

"Can yer mother sew, pal?"

Rael didn't understand what that could mean, either, but he could almost see gathering storm clouds of doom.

"What's a mother?" said the confused representative of -yes- Greater Deregulation South by Southwest. One of the worst offenders who had to be told, repeatedly and on a case-by-case basis, that women were not up for grabs, sales, or 'test drives'. And -yes- he was also absent-mindedly helping himself to a handful of Shayde's rump.

Rael pinged Security.

Shayde sucker-punched the delegate. "Get 'er tae stitch that!"

The Consortium of Steam held up score cards. They also had very little tolerance for the Deregulations.

Shayde wasn't finished. Her hair fluffed outwards in the now-familiar signifier of her doing magic. Sparks coruscated around her and red light leaked in lightning from her eyes.

The delegate for Greater Deregulation South by Southwest wet himself, earning cheers and applause from everyone he had offended. Which was quite a vocal crowd.

"May you be one minute late at the worst possible time," intoned Shayde.

"...whut?" blurted the delegate.

Security escorted both of them away. Him for unwanted advances and refusal to accept 'no' as an answer, and her for assault. Her sentence would be lessened because of self-defence.

He could hear the Consortium plotting to send her a cake. It quickly devolved into differing meanings for the word 'file'.

Rael must never be that far away from her again.

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