Orion Sinclair stewed in her contempt. She sat in a bus stop in a little podunk town, pondering, not for the first time, how her life had ended up going so wrong.
<<Dawn't worry, m'oim!>> Her hip bleated at her. <<Oi'm sure next toim will be the one for sure!>>
Orion gripped her seat with enough pressure to dent the plastic. "Morons, the lot of them." She fumed to herself. "How could they turn me down? I would be an excellent teacher!" The bus stop bench snapped under her fingers. "Just because I failed that stupid personality test!"
Her PET remained silent in answer, letting the meaning hang in the air like a unclaimed fart. Orion blew out a breath of frustration, then glanced up, scowling at the bus stop information program. The program who managed the time displays was hiding from her just behind the edge of the screen.
"Sinclairs are meant for exotic cars. Sports cars, in a pinch. But not..." She composed herself before uttering those dreaded words, "public transport..."
<<Oi'm afraid you still 'ave negative-thirty points on your loicense, m'oim.>>
"Uggghhhh..." Orion buried her groan in her scarf. She glared at the bus stop screen again, this time noticing the small jack-in port. "Fine. I need to work off my indignation before it gives me a rash." She unclipped her crescent-moon shaped PET from her belt and pointed it at the screen. "Go find something to smash."
A beam of light speared from the device into the screen, following by a distorted: <<Yes, m'oim!>>