Okay, this is not my fault. I asked someone who purports to be some kind of genius to tell me what to write about, and obviously I should have known better, because when you ask geniuses an open-ended question, they insist on bringing math into things. She sent me some kind of randomly-generated character building card, specifically the lefthand one seen below, just to prove to you that this is, as we covered, not my fault. I just wrote some nonsense based on the words on the card.
The cargo bay is not the place to sleep,
but Maia’s got a tent in her pocket.
She finds a secluded place to drop it –
a pity that the laser shielding’s cheap.
A laser was the officer’s best guess –
it burned her tent away in an instant,
left the interloper just an infant,
albeit one that beat us all at chess.
She hung around the doctor’s neck all day,
except when gripping bishops ‘tween two toes.
The more she learns, it seems, the more she grows;
now she’s taken over the cargo bay.
She’s certainly the smartest sloth we know –
at least, while she has the laser, so we say.