I'll let you guess who this is narrating. I don't imagine it'll take too many guesses. It wasn’t Mal’s fault Silas didn’t ask for the thing he wanted. You set your eye on a thing, you get up the cash to pay for that thing and you send a man and his crew after that thing... it’s your own wrongdoing if you don’t rightly know what the ruttin’ thing is called, nobody else’s. So it came as more or less a killin’ reason when we hauled the plastic whore back to that little pud Silas just so’s we could get a ruckus and walkin’ words. If you want one o’ them new five-hundred-thousand credit labor bots, don’t go gettin’ the model serials all kacked up and ask for a love-bot instead, that’s all. Naturally, that left us all with an extremely important question needed to be asked, and nobody else seemed to be getting around to askin’ it, so... “Can I have it?”
