YOU'RE SO STUPID I DON'T KNOW WHY I BOTHER WITH YOU! STYLE? I COULD TELL YOU STORIES THAT WOULD CURL YOUR HAIR! THE LIBRARIES HERE ON RIGEL IV MAKE YOUR POE AND SHAKESPEARE LOOK LIKE OLD MAIDS!
I sat back in my chair and got a crafty feeling. Before I knew it I said, "Prove it!"
There was silence for a moment. The keys just remained dead. I reached forward and tapped the machine.
STOP THAT! I'M THINKING.... VERY WELL, EARTHMAN, I WILL PROVE IT!
And he did. I sat there for the next half hour, feeding paper into the machine, and it kept me busy. That typewriter sounded like a burp gun with hiccoughs.
Finally the typing ceased. The carriage clattered back and there was a final spurt of words.
WELL? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? READ IT!
I read it. It made my hair curl. A story of galactic war—invasion on Rigel IV from a race a hundred light years in space. Havoc, suspense, adventure, all so utterly fantastic it seemed real. I was spellbound to the last line. I stared at the machine.
WELL?
"—You sure this isn't another mimic job from Earth—"