Sir Charles' Dwelling

Sir Charles cruised the channels on his flat screen, as Aristotle sat writing in his book. Quickly, Monty Python came on, the very beginning. The coconut scene nonetheless. As the scene came to the argument, Aristotle's attention was quickly gained. He tutted at the lack of knowledge.

"Untrue," Aristotle said, mainly to himself.

"What is it now Aristotle?" Sir Charles asked without moving his eyes from the screen, cracking up.

"A European swallow doesn't have to beat his wings forty three times every second," Aristotle commented, "it only has to beat its wings around fifteen times every second."

"Really?" Sir Charles asked.

"It's true," Aristotle continued, "and I believe that the air velocity of an unladen European swallow is around eleven meters per second, or... around twenty four miles per hour.

"Well... it's still funny..." Sir Charles said, looking guilty.

"My god..." Aristotle groaned, "a coconut is around twenty three times the weight of a European swallow, making it impossible for the swallow to carry it... and it could never grip the coconut because of its extremely small feet."

"Wow..." Sir Charles said while contemplating the idea, "actually... you are correct in all of those points. I could never watch a movie which had such uninformed logic..." Of course, Sir Charles left the movie on.

"Please..." Aristotle asked, "would you turn this rubbish off?"

Sir Charles contemplated the idea. "Only if... We can go net battle. We haven't done it in a while."

"Fine, anything to get away from this," Aristotle said pointing to the television.

Sir Charles could have skipped over to the computer, jacking Aristotle in.

As Aristotle warped into the net, he said to Sir Charles, "We'll continue this later..."
Sir Charles jacked Aristotle out of the Net and slugged back to the bed.

"Man... net-battling really drains you." He said before drifting off to sleep.
Sir Charles jerked awake early in the morning. He let out a huge yawn as he stretched his limbs. He reached over to his nightstand and saw his PET, with Aristotle sleeping on their homepage.

"Good morning Aristotle." Sir Charles said. Aristotle, however, continued to rest. Sir Charles continued by screaming "I said... GOOD MORNING ARISTOTLE!!!1!!!11!!!eleven," while shaking the PET. Aristotle, obviously, was in for a rude awakening. As Aristotle sat up and rubbed his eyes, Sir Charles ran over and threw open the curtains. "Ah, i feel refreshed!"

Sir Charles ran back over to the bed. "Let's go get some breakfast Aristotle!"

"Fine..." Aristotle tiredly replied.

Sir Charles pranced out of the room, not forgetting to take his laptop for some net-battling at the cafe. "Jacking you in Aristotle."

Before Aristotle could reply, he flew out of the PET into the Net.