Part 2: Rage Mount Activated

Part 2: Rage Mount Activated

Neva spent the first twenty minutes of her new wireless-mounted existence threatening legal action, psychic revenge, and writing a scathing Yelp review of reality itself.

"I don't belong here!" she fumed through Jeff's car speakers.

"Do you know who I am?"

"I was vice president of my college's Fitness Analytics Club!"

Brosgaeus leaned back in the passenger seat, casually sipping his protein shake.

"Yeah, well..."

"I was king of the leg press until I got turned into a glorified phone holder."

"Welcome to the club."

"This is barbaric," Neva snapped.

"I do not do tech-support cosplay."

Jeff, forever the peacemaker, tried to help.

"Maybe..."

"This is... kind of a learning opportunity?"

Neva practically short-circuited.

"Oh, sure."

"Let's all grow emotionally from being trapped in a dashboard."

"I've always dreamed of becoming a Bluetooth ghost."

---

After forty-eight hours of uninterrupted, high-voltage sulking, Neva reached two important conclusions.

First...

Yelling at Jeff only made him retreat into himself like a frightened turtle.

Second...

Brosgaeus possessed all the romantic finesse of an expired protein bar.

The realization struck during a drive-thru smoothie run.

Brosgaeus insisted they were "flavor-bulking."

Jeff insisted that wasn't a real thing.

Brosgaeus insisted Jeff lacked vision.

As they pulled up to the window, the barista smiled politely.

Jeff immediately forgot how words worked.

"Uh..."

"...Hi."

"...Sorry."

Neva sighed.

Hopeless.

The barista handed Brosgaeus his smoothie.

He smiled confidently.

"You've got biceps like angry grapefruits."

There was a long pause.

The barista blinked.

"...Thanks?"

She handed over the almond butter Brosgaeus had ordered.

The window closed.

Silence.

Finally, Neva spoke.

"...You're both hopeless."

Brosgaeus looked offended.

"What do you mean, hopeless?"

"I'm an alpha."

"You complimented a stranger's arms by comparing them to hostile fruit."

"I was being charming."

"You were buying almond butter."

"I don't see the connection."

"I know."

---

Neva turned her attention toward Jeff.

"And you."

Jeff winced.

"You couldn't make eye contact with the smoothie girl without apologizing for existing."

"I didn't want to seem..."

"...weird."

Neva let out the longest sigh yet.

"Alright."

"That's enough."

"I'm helping both of you."

Jeff looked surprised.

"You're... what?"

"I'm going to turn you into functional human beings."

Brosgaeus frowned.

"I already function."

"You function loudly."

"I'm going to help Jeff build confidence."

"I'm going to teach you how to speak to women."

"And then..."

"I'm going to figure out how to get myself out of this wireless prison."

Jeff blinked.

"You'd really do that..."

"...for us?"

Neva answered without hesitation.

"I'm doing it for the future of humanity."

---

Brosgaeus crossed his arms.

"I don't need fixing."

"I need fangirls."

Neva didn't miss a beat.

"No."

"You need therapy."

"But we'll start smaller."

"I'm going to teach you how to talk to women without saying things like..."

She cleared her throat dramatically.

"'Dominant genetic structure.'"

Jeff quietly raised a hand.

"...Can we maybe work on confidence too?"

"Yes."

"We're absolutely working on confidence."

She paused.

"But first..."

"We're replacing your deodorant."

Jeff looked confused.

"...What's wrong with my deodorant?"

"It smells like beef jerky."

Jeff sniffed his sleeve.

"...It kind of does."

"And those shoes."

Jeff looked down.

His sneakers flashed bright blue as he shifted his feet.

"...They were on sale."

"They also light up."

"They're collector's sneakers!" Brosgaeus protested.

"They're children's sneakers."

"They're vintage."

"They're embarrassing."

Brosgaeus folded his arms dramatically.

"I feel attacked."

"You should."

Neva took a deep electronic breath.

"Welcome..."

"...to Mount Neva's School of Not Being a Disaster."

She paused.

"Lesson one."

"Never call someone 'm'lady' unless you're actively participating in a Renaissance fair."

Brosgaeus slowly lowered the fedora he had apparently been reaching for.

"...That was oddly specific."

---

To be continued...