A pretty spring Tuesday! It's really too bad Romulus Hackley is going to be obliterated today. It really is.

Boreas doesn't feel too bad about it, honestly.

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: We're throwing down today. I still owe you from last time, and I still owe you for bisecting my freaking bar. You made me weep manly tears, Romulus. Manly, testosterone-infused tears of magma-hot righteousness. That magma-hot righteousness is now aimed in your direction. It's going to consume you - do you see? You will plead for mercy and succor that will never come.

Then, on the heels of that:

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: My turn to pay for the pizza, isn't it? Still want your ridiculous Hawaiian pizza bullshit extravaganza of awful?

Ridiculous bullshit extravaganza of awful, Rom.

Ah, he's put this off as long as he could, but there comes a time when every man must face retribution.

It's a good thing Boreas isn't exactly Wyatt Earp.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: As always, oblivion will not find me unready.

Also, I was thinking anchovies and hot peppers this time. Really get that flavor going, you know?

It is, as always, hard to tell over text whether or not this is a joke.

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: You know when you say probably untrue things like that that you give me ZERO incentive not to go along with it. At the end of it, either I've taught you a valuable lesson about not bullshitting people about important things like pizza toppings or I've helped scratch a truly disgusting itch of yours. You have 150 seconds from the moment I get the delivery confirmation for this text to give me a real answer or I'm ordering you anchovies and jalapenos and goddamn expecting you to eat it.

Approximately 152.2375 seconds (give or take a few milliseconds) afterward...

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Well, since I plan on crushing you AND I bisected your bar and you'd probably stand around looking hungry, I suppose I can afford to be accommodating just this once. Chicken and bacon?

One could probably keep a running tally of the number of times they had done this particular dance. If any records of this having occurred didn't mysteriously disappear at periodic intervals, that is.

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: Chicken and bacon pizza is an acceptable choice and a thing that I could see you actually consuming. Unfortunately, the stopwatch I started when I got the delivery confirmation indicates that you are getting the anchovies and jalapenos. Enjoy the pizza, IT WILL BE YOUR LAST. MAGMA HOT TESTOSTERONE RIGHTEOUSNESS GOOOO!!!!

No but seriously, I'll see you at like 5. Are you good on beers, or do I have to pick those up too?

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Does the machine-pope rule with an iron fist? Wait, don't answer that if you know, I'm still looking into it. (I think the answer is 'yes' but he might have converted to aluminum.) Anyway, I've got that covered, yes.

"All right," the woman on the other end of the line was saying. "So that's one large bacon cheeseburger pizza, one large pizza with chicken and bacon, one large order of mozzarella sticks, one order of fried calamari-"

"With extra sauce," Boreas interrupted.

"-with extra sauce, okay. One tuxedo cheesecake, and one chocolate mousse tart. Is that everything?"

"And an order of garlic bread."

"Okay, small or large?"

"Better go with large."

"Okay, one large order of garlic bread." A pause. "Is that all?"

"Yep!" Boreas said. "That's for pickup."

"Yes - what's your name?"

"Boreas."

"Boris?"

"Boreas. Like...Boreas."

"Like the superhero?"

Bitch please. "Yeah, I'm the superhero."

"Nuh-uh, no you're not."

"I'm Boreas, the Wind-Wielder."

"I don't believe you."

"Put it under Boreas, please, ma'am."

"You're lying. What name should I really put it under?"

"Fine. Put it under...'Dan'."

"Okay. That's better. Your food will be ready in 30 minutes."

"Okay. Just so you know, I'm actually Boreas, and I'm going to fly away with the food. You're gonna see, and you're gonna tell all your friends that you met me today. Don't leave out the part where you didn't believe me."

"Okay. Dan."

"Okay."

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: Food is ordered. Rom, I'm really Boreas, right?

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Heuristic analysis of your previous texts yields a 96.4470% chance of you being the same Boreas as you were yesterday, and not some memory-stealing shapeshifter who has kidnapped the real Boreas and taken over his life.

Of course, if we add this last one, the odds of you being the real Boreas drop to 87.1041%, but the likelihood of a malicious impostor rather than the result of some sort of amusing superpowered mix-up decreases by a factor of seventy-seven. I may have to recalibrate the machine.

Um, what was the question, again? Oh, right. 'Yes, I think so, but if you aren't, it probably isn't your fault.'

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: Whew.

Did you know I'm dating a girl who can detect written and spoken lies? I wonder what would happen if I showed her the average Hax text. Maybe she'd explode. Better not.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Wait, written lies? How does that even work?

About twenty seconds later...

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Does it work second-hand? Like, if I text you that I saw a three-headed monkey today, and you believe it and text her about it, does it still show up as false?

And what happens if you show her a statement that, while arrived at logically, cannot be true or false?

We need to test this! Let me rig something up.

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: Way ahead of you!!!

All right, check it: Her power detects LIES only - If I believe something to be true, it does not come out as a lie when I say it. If it's something in a form that can't have truth conditions, or is only strictly true, it comes out as not a lie. There are no shades of gray - just lies and not lies. If a declarative sentence is uttered or penned and the speaker or writer does not believe there to be an X such that it fulfills the conditions to be the referent of the subject and has what relationship to the other arguments of the sentence is defined by the semantics of the sentence, she hears a lie - which for her makes the words sound irritatingly distorted, or the text appear faintly green. Interestingly, I think it was Frege who suggested that sentences about fictional characters should not be counted as false - according to her power, they are. A fictional subject is enough to make a sentence false.

Why yes, Boreas did some research into the philosophy of language as part of dating Taryn.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Would you look at that, the machine just increased the odds to 99.9714%. And spat out a line saying 'sometimes, Boreas reminds you why you two hang out. This is one of those times.'

Hm, fictional characters? But that would key off of... oh oh, that is interesting. That would mean it doesn't key off intent to deceive, I don't think, but whether or not the speaker knows the statement is counterfactual.

Hmm. You need to arrange for her to interview a very enlightened Zen Master and see what happens.

And faint green? Do you happen to know the shade?

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: Naw. I think it's kind of like synesthesia, where it looks like it's two colors at once. I think if I showed her a lie written in blue pen, she'd be able to acknowledge that it's a lie written in blue pen, but that it looks green. I don't know what would happen if you lied to her in green pen.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Hmm. Okay! I'm going to send you a followup text. Show it to her when you want to test it. If my theory is correct, the first iteration will be a lie, the second will be truthful, and the third won't show up as a lie.

It's a fairly easy mental exercise. Concentrate on the impossibility of two beers proliferating into an entire pack. Enter it in. Concentrate on his computer. Enter it in. Then concentrate on numbers that require an external reference point to derive any meaningful statement from. Enter it in.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore:
1+1=10
1+1=10
1+1=10

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: Okay. Anyway, I'm gonna get dressed and get the pizza. BE PREPARED. Last will and testament time.

After sending that, Boreas got dressed in his jumpsuit and mask and left out his window.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: I'll be sure to inform my next of kin.

Actually nowadays I think that would be the crazy aunt who owns about twenty yappy little dogs and lives in Hong Kong, and we're still not on speaking terms after I turned her favorite poodle into a cyborg killing machine.

I'll inform Rick.


Rom (555-616-7777) to Rickshaw: Consider yourself informed.

Boreas (555-423-8808) to Haxsaw: I can be your next of kin! Consider me informed, too.

Rom (555-616-7777) to DrillBore: Well yes but you're the one that...

...oh, never mind. Consider yourself informed too.