“‘Memento Morris,'” said Morris. “It’s my cool assassin name.”

“I don’t follow,” I said.

“Like ‘memento mori’?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I get that part, but you swapped out the wrong word. You’ve been calling yourself ‘reminder of Morris.'”

“Shit!” said Morris.

“I didn’t think life’d get any more outré than being propositioned by a tree-man but you don’t even have a body.”

“Just slap them titties on my terminal!” cried the computer. “Yee-haw! Hump, hump, hump!”

“Okay, number one:” said Emily, “they’re not big enough to slap anywhere. Two, uh, gross. And three, shut up.”