The pink-haired receptionist snapped her gum as she finished typing the order into her computer. "All done!" Kypra chirped. "Who's next?" she asked the array of phones in front of her. As if in response, the red phone shaped like a pair of lips instantly rang.
She picked up the receiver, saying, "Hello, Nexus Personals, where we take _you_ personally! How may I help you?"
"Oh, _sure_ we can write it up for you, if you give us the details. So, like, tell me about yourself!" Silence as Kypra listened, the only sound the slight scratching of pen on paper as she took notes. "Okay, you're an author. And your characters are getting more action than you are? Yeouch... What would like _your_ date to be like? Any do's or don't's?" She scribbled a few more lines. "Would you like this put in our newspaper or bbs sections?" She took a few more notes on the pad of paper next to the phones. "Alrighty, I'll get this entered into the system and we'll see what happens! Thanks a lot!"
Kypra hung up the phone and quickly entered the information into the main computer, blowing bubbles with gum that just matched her hair. She was just typing in the last words as the mirror-shaped video-phone next to the lip phone lit up with a musical ring.
Bizarrely, Marada Shra'drakaii finds what appears to be a standard telephone booth in a nook of the Terrible Raven of Beauty's fortress. Apparently, the universe has again lost consistency in front of him. He sticks a claw tenatively into the coin-return slot, retrieving three silver Draconiati 15-kopeck coins, and turns up to notice a taped-up sign reading "To find who you truly want, ring..."
He muses for a moment, then feeds the coins slowly back into the telephone. "166-archat-arakal-dorhai-116-40-50838, then wait for the second ping, then 5868... sheesh- am I calling another universe?", he states, laughingly.
"Hullo?", he snarls. "I'm looking for an intelligent, large, black dragoness who can do the thinking for me. I want Black Front alignment or further, and can tolerate drinking and gambling in moderation. Must be willing to help me out of present uncomfortable relationship. I'm a magenta, mass 303 length 108, graduated Barnardii Science in 270, but presently unemployed. Interests include heavy conversation-- politics, industrial engineering, and the arts. I doubt you have anything of the sort to offer."
The poor drake doesn't realise that he is specifying terms that likely don't even exist in the universe of the being on the other end of the line.
Kypra finishes speed-entering the data. "Thank you, sir. I believe that we may have a few dragonesses who fufill those details in our database, although we would have to have more information on your present relationship for a confirmation. One of the prospectives ended up disembowling her date's mother in a horrible misunderstanding on a mistranslation of the term 'momma's boy.' Do you have a number, inbox, or other means by which you can receive information about the various candidates?"
Marada looks at the device to which he's speaking. "For the moment, I can apparently be reached at Horalak 15-4084 for the main office, then 3200 to get to this kiosk. The plate on the 'phone claims it's on the Ephermas colony network, but it sure doesn't seem like the Ephermas in the tourist leaflets."
One of her colleagues waves at her from across the room, indicating that she now has another customer on hold.
"Umm, lemme see," a quiet, feminine voice begins after the colleague takes the line off of hold. "I'm a weretiger -- like a werewolf, only not -- early 20's if you use Angel City time measurement. Tall in either form, kinda skinny, green eyes. Graduated college, degrees in physics and chemistry, right now working for a bioengineering firm just past the 30th street portal in Angel City. I'm looking for someone, guy or girl, preferably somewhere near my age." A nervous pause. "My likes are quiet walks in the country, fast noisy cars, and an occasional carnivorous feeding frenzy in my tigress form. Looking for someone with similar likes, and who doesn't mind an animal in the sack. And above all else, someone who doesn't mind a 'nerd'... gawd, I hate those neanderthals. Oh, sorry," she adds hastily, "a bit more than you needed, probably. Anything else you need? I can be reached at... umm, lemme spell this out, it's an e-mail address. T-y-n-a-dot-a-l-t-y-atsignthingy-c-y-b-e-r-i-a-dot-mil-dot-nex."
"Hi. I'd like to place an ad, as follows:
"Alright, sure. Go ahead," a no-nonsense brunette said into her phone headset.
"'Single human Mundane professional male, mid-thirties, seeks single human Mundane non-cannibal living female, any age above consent, to share roof-top hideaway scented with night-blooming jasmine and lemon trees. Intelligence essential, love of music and fine dining a plus, must not be bothered by odor of formaldehyde. Dark-Arts practitioners need not apply. Contact GH, Angel City Morgue Facility # 244, Basement, faze schedule 122B-Alternate, ACPrime 33903.'
"Got that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay. Thanks."
"No problem!" Ro (Call me 'Dite' and you die) Lebowitz finished typing the client's information. She frowned at the screen. That 'formaldehyde' just didn't look look right.
"Anyone know how to spell form-al-de-hyde?" she asked into the receptionist room.
A sarcastic voice from the far side of the room piped up, "C-H-C-H-O!"
"Ha, ha, ha," muttered Ro. "Thanks a lot. Anyone have a dictionary?"
A thick book is passed to her as her phone lights up again. She juggles the book as she hits the lit-up button and says, "Hello, Nexus Personals, your winged Cupid in written form. What can I do for you?"
"Hello? Yeah, I wanna place an ad.
"Okay... uh... ah, crap. No, okay, I got it.
"White male... uh... metahuman? Nah, I hate that PC bullshit... SUPERman. Age eighty- Wait. No, age thirty-five. Class 1000 strength and invulnerability... Does that matter? Ah, screw it, put it in. Blonde hair, blue eyes, 7'5", 650 lbs., seeks...
"Uh...
"Seeks...
"Okay, seeks female... female... Fuck. Seeks -female-, human-shaped prefera- What? Yeah, humanoid. That. Seeks female humanoid, age not important, superpowers a plus, or at least she shouldn't snap like a twig when... look, she needs to be -tough-, okay? Tough, and... has to be able to hold her liquor. -Yeah-. And she won't take any shit from anyone, either! Okay, -now- we're gettin' somewhere! Got all that? Good.
"What? No, no phone number. You got some kinda voice mail or something? Good. Yeah, thanks, toots. Bye!"
*click*
Ro sent the information to the main database. "Hey!" she called into the receptionist room. "I think we have another one for Alice!"
"No way!" was heard from the far corner. "What's that up to for the year?" was from the center of the room. "What's the betting pool up to by now?"
"I think it's up to at least a hundred, Ish," Ro replied. Amped-Up Alice was a superhero, from who knows where. Experimentation had left her with a serious case of electric personality... literally. After years of living with it, she could usually control the massive volts that coursed through her body. But when drunk (one of her favorite diversions) or *ahem* _very_ happy, she often lost control. A small number of men had actually lost their lives in Alice's bed. But she had sworn they had gone out with a smile...
The office pool was basically how long her date would survive. Double if he survived at least eight hours, triple if he survived Alice's bed. Custom was if a date didn't survive, the winner of the pool would buy a nice flower arrangement for the funeral. And after the first crispy Casanova, NP had made sure that any guy foolish enough to take Alice out signed a full waiver.
Ro started drawing up the paperwork....
A note is found stuck to the office door. In tiny, ornate script on a scrap of brown paper:
Dear Ladies and Gentlemen of Nexus Personals,
I have long admired your dedication to the work of bringing love into the lives of Nexus citizens. I myself find a great many who are in need of instruction and aid in the art of love; and so I commend your efforts and greet you as fellows in the battle.
I humbly offer my assistance. Should a sapient female of any description be in need, feel free to call on me. You may rest assured your fine reputation will not be tarnished as I am well known to be a reliable, discreet and vigorous lover. For the sake of safety, I must make a single exception declining invitations from carnivorous beings who might be tempted to eat a 52.9 gram reptile.
Sincerely,
Squamous
7 1/2 W ladies satin pump shoe box
Portico
139877.12 Morgan Boulevard
Nexus Proper
A lonely newspaper sits on a kitchen table, flooded with sunlight from a window. It is curiously folded and a single ad on the uppermost page is circled with a red marker heart. It reads:
"To My Day,
Once again, the Day of romance has returned and we are still healthy and happy. We have survived so much in these years that, at times, I am amazed at how you have managed to stay your sweet and loving self. We were given a wonderful gift that Christmas but I would not say that it outweighs the gift of your presence in my life. I do not know what my life would have been without you in it and heavens willing, I never will. To quote the small pink piglet, 'If you live to be a hundred, let me life to be a hundred minus a day... so that I will never have to live without you.' Though I have no arms to hold you, know that you are always held close to me in my heart.
Forever yours,
Libre"
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