Matthew's Apartnt
Adam drove them over, ready to get this done quick.
"Once we grab it, we can send it to Columbia's Bio Center. Who knows? Could be a huge biological breakthrough!" Adam said with a grin.
"No way!" Lily piped up, horrified. She's got the softest heart of the crew. "They'll experint on it—that's way too cruel!"
"So?" Adam shot her a sideways glance.
"So, can't we just whack it with a stick and be done?" Lily suggested earnestly, still sohow the kindest one in the room.
"Fair point," Adam nodded seriously. "But no one knows what this thing even is. What if it's carrying so nasty bug? One whack, blood splatters everywhere, and boom—contamination city. Not ideal."
"Okay, fine, catch it alive then," Lily backtracked instantly.
"Adam! Long ti no see," ca a voice as the door swung open. Ted was there too, pacing around like a nervous wreck.
"Ted, you've seen it too, right?" Lily asked, her eyes darting around in panic.
"Seen what?" Ted blinked, totally lost.
"The cockroach-rat!" Matthew chid in. "Why else would you be so worked up?"
"You forgot—I've got my appointnt at the Singleton Terminator soon," Ted said, wringing his hands. "Now that it's crunch ti, I'm not sure this is the right move."
"If you're not sure, why even go?" Adam asked, chuckling.
"I don't have a choice—it's science," Ted said, rubbing his hands together. "I can't just not believe in science, right?"
"Heh," Adam smirked. "Tell
more."
This isn't so anti-intellectual era in the U.S.—not yet, anyway. Ted's a top-notch architect, young and already heading up the prep for a 78-story skyscraper project. He's solid middle-class, upper-middle even.
Even in the future, a guy like Ted would still put his faith in science over conspiracy nonsense. It's all about where you sit, right? Your perspective shapes your headspace.
The anti-science crowd? Mostly lower-middle-class folks. Are they dumb? Nah. It's just that all those shiny scientific breakthroughs don't trickle down to them. Take dicine, for example: billion-dollar wonder drugs get developed, but they can't afford 'em. Health insurance costs keep climbing, coverage keeps shrinking. The poor get poorer, the rich get richer.
Tech keeps marching on—so what? Doesn't help the little guy. If you're screwed either way, why not bet on God instead of science? The more the elite preach "trust the data," the more the underdogs push back. It's a quiet, helpless kind of rebellion.
"Last night, I went to apologize to that coworker who quit," Ted explained. "We got to talking, and it turned to stuff about being single and lonely…"
"Ohhh~" Adam grinned, raising an eyebrow. "You felt so bad about her quitting—did you, uh, make it up to her for the emotional damage?"
"Heh heh heh," Matthew and Lily, who'd been scouring the place for the cockroach-rat, perked up and smirked knowingly.
"What are you guys thinking?" Ted groaned. "It wasn't like that at all!"
"Sure, you weren't in the mood," Adam teased. "But I'd bet if you'd offered, she wouldn't have said no to that kind of 'apology.' Honestly, it'd be the sincere thing to do."
Ted's a catch—think leading man in a hit TV show. Handso? Obviously. Plus, he's got this romantic vibe that hits won like a ton of bricks. Even the chubby girl he hurt wouldn't stand a chance against that kind of charm.
"…Anyway!" Ted dodged the topic with an eye roll. "We got onto the subject, and she ntioned she'd joined the Singleton Terminator recently. But they still haven't matched her with anyone decent. Then, with what I accidentally said, she got fed up and quit. So it's not all my fault."
"And then?" Adam leaned in, curious. "How'd you end up signing up too?"
"I didn't buy into this Singleton Terminator stuff at first," Ted admitted with a wry smile. "But she made it sound wild—like they use so math formula to sift through all of New York and narrow it down to your perfect match. It's such a tiny pool that, unless you want to fish blind in the ocean, you're better off going there. The owner, Ellen Paschel, is supposedly the best matchmaker in the city—total pro, 100% success rate pairing people up!"
"So you're ditching that girl you were waiting for?" Adam laughed. "What about your slutty pumpkin? Halloween's just a few weeks away!"
"Yeah…" Ted gave an awkward grin. "I'm still waiting for her, of course. This is just a test run. Maybe I won't even need you to give
her number in six months—I'll snag it from the Singleton Terminator myself!
Oh, and here's a quick plug—patreon:belamy20—supporting creators keeps the good stuff coming!
Think about it: if I find her that way, wouldn't it prove we're ant to be? As for the slutty pumpkin, she's just a mory. I only want to see her one more ti—no ulterior motives." He put on his most sincere face.
Adam shook his head with a sigh. Damn romanticism.
Years back, Ted t a girl in a pumpkin costu at a rooftop Halloween party. Why "slutty"? Picture a skimpy pumpkin outfit—use your imagination. Ted was dressed as a hanging chad that night, rocking an election sign around his neck. They hit it off, and she gave him her number… only for it to end up in a candy stash that so kid swiped.
Losing his shot at a "pumpkin fling" crushed Ted. That built-in romantic streak had him dressing up in the sa costu every Halloween since, waiting on that rooftop all night for a girl who'd probably never show. He's kept it up for years—and looks like he'll keep going.
If he actually finds her soday, that sappy story alone would seal the deal. A playboy like Ted pulling that off? It's a woman's worst nightmare—whoever falls for it is toast!
"One key question," Adam said, snapping out of the slutty pumpkin tangent and holding up a finger. "You really think a girl that great would need to join so Singleton Terminator?"
"Uh…" Ted froze.
"Go for it," Adam said with a grin. "If she does pop up in their database, then yeah, maybe you two are destined.
"And if she's not?" Ted couldn't help asking.
"Then you're not," Adam shrugged. "Let's see what this 'best matchmaker in New York' and her fancy science formula pick out as your dream girl."
"Alright!" Ted mulled it over, then psyched himself up. "If a rat and a cockroach can find true love in New York, then so can I!"
"Wait, what?" Matthew yelped. "You think this cockroach-rat is so lovechild of a rat and a roach?"
"Eww!" Lily gagged. "It's so ugly and gross—how could that be a lovechild?"
"Why not?" Ted countered, slipping into his romantic lens.
"Nope," Adam shut it down cold. "Ever heard of reproductive isolation?"
"It's just a taphor!" Ted grumbled, shooting Adam a look. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. These friends couldn't keep up with his romantic wavelength. Right then, he missed Barney—sure, Barney wasn't romantic, but he was wild enough to at least vibe on the sa frequency.
"Kidding! You've got this," Adam called after Ted's retreating figure with a smirk. "Good luck finding your lady rat!"
Ted: "…"
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