Servos whine and the cabinet doors whoosh open. Maynard waggles the big remote self-consciously; Luna laughs and claps.
“My friends wanted to volunteer at the soup kitchen, but no, I needed my teevee to live in a turbolift,” he says.
“They still have soup kitchens?” asks Luna.
“Only joking,” he says, “I have no friends.”
“Then you’d better have lots more whooshy doors,” she says. “This is best-friend-brunch-story gold.”
“I can make whooshing sound effects while I open the wine.”
“We’re having wine?”
“You’re going to need it,” he says, “before I let you see the bathroom.”