Max's neck cracked as he turned over, halfheartedly slapping at the alarm clock he'd neglected to turn off.
No, stoppit... donwanna get up today... He mumbled, flopping back onto his pillow after finding the correct button. A disappointed "tsk tsk" sounded from his desk.
And here I thought I'd been awarded to a motivated netbattler, not some snoozing clod. Illusionist's holographic image popped up from the PET, wandering over to the alarm clock Max had just disabled. A muffled voice came from the pillow a few moments later.
That last round of busting took until well after midnight, mirrors. It took all our time just to get enough cash for the virus buster starter kit. Max propped himself up on an elbow, grabbing the box from his bedside table. Flipping it open, he removed the battlechips and the data cards containing the few navicust programs. He tossed them quickly onto the navicustomizer grid and collapsed on his sheets again.
And now it'll take less time. So let's get to it, already! A small beam of light shot from the PET on the desk to the shutter controls on Max's window, and a fraction of a second later sunlight streamed into the room. A faint cry came from under the hastily raised covers.
Fine, fine, you win! Now close the damn blinds while I find some pants!