Last Will and Testament

[JakeSG]

'Yer damned fool of a computer!' Ted shouted, as he slammed his coffee mug upon the dashboard. 'No! Ah dun wants ter update me damned tech support subscription! Ah just wants yer to take me outter shis 'ere hanger, an' inter orbit!' Ted Wesley continued to pound upon the dashboard of his Camara Freighter.
The crackle from his Neuralnet dashboard interrupted him. 'Incoming call! Will you accept? Incoming call! Will you accept? Incoming call! Will you-'
'If it'll shut yer the hell up!', he shouted.
An image of a clean, tidy man, the kind whom quite possibly irons his underwear, appeared on his dashboard's screen. 'This is Mister Ted Wesley?' he asked.
'Aye, 'tis me, an' if yew'll excushe me, I were just leavin'.'
'Hold one moment, please. I have here several legal documents adressed to your name, if you'd care to meet up with me, it seems you've inher-'
'Oi! Just one moment! Legal documentsh? And is that a briefcase ah sees in yer hand? Yer a damned lawyer, ain't yeh? Well yer not gettin' me back inter detox!'
'Sir, one moment, please!'
'Tah hell wit' that! Computer lady! Canshel the call an take us ter space! We's gotta move!'

When the LPI were called to the scene, it seemed a combination of shoddy programming and drunk driving had caused the Camara to reverse into the hangar wall. The only occupant, a filthy, stinking man, somewhere between the age of 30 and 75, was found passed out with many liquour bottles strewn around him. He was dumped in the Newark Station medical bay, where he proceeded to try and drink from his IV, convinced it contained alcohol.

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For the Core.