Please don't be alarmed. You were in a terrible accident. We have revived you from stasis, repaired your tissue damage, and removed the embedded bits of fruit stand debris. It is the future, and our advanced society may prove too much for your recovering brain to take in all at once. I will attempt to get you acclimated as gently as possible.
First, you should know that BMW won the war. They were outgunned, outmanned, and they didn't have a single ion beam platform, but in the end their fashion concepts proved to be so appealing and sensible that none could stand in their way.
Ah, it seems your vision is coming back.
Hello. I am your doctor. This mask? It serves two purposes. One, it protects my forehead and most of my mouth from germs. Two, its aerodynamic design (combined with my numerous straps) allows me to rush from patient to patient.
Like so. How do you like my rushing pose? Thanks, I've been putting a lot of work into it.
Why yes, the mask is just as opaque from the inside as it appears from outside. Moreso, in fact. I find that the limited visibility helps me deal with social encounters with beautiful women, and during surgeries it makes all those gross organs and whatnot look like a single harmless red blob.
My shoes are similar to rollerblades from your time, but more complicated and therefore better. They perform especially well on small metallic plates, but only when said plates are placed inside compact cylinders. Perhaps you will now find that the unusual shape of your hospital room makes more sense.
Ah, here comes nurse Calloway!
I'm glad you could stop in, nurse. I trust your teeter-board ride down the hallway was smooth? Or, wait, did you even use a teeter-board? That device is so unassuming that once you've stored it on your back, I can't even tell you're wearing it at all.
I was just filling our patient in on some sights which must seem strange. For instance, your mostly invisible sleeves and glowing blue lights must seem peculiar until you realize that their function is - oh, Superintendent Pelle! What a pleasant surprise!
Yes, the patient is recovering nicely. Oops, your wing sleeve seems to have caught on this important piece of machinery.
No, it's okay. If you could just move your conveniently stowed vacuum cart out of the way, I can access the device before it... oh dear. We're going to need a technician.
Kevin! Thank goodness you've arrived so quickly! If you didn't have those buttons on your ski poles and the afterburner on your wrist, this could have been quite serious indeed.
Please set to work on that important device. I believe it's one of the newer models, so it should have docking stations for your reversible boots.
Now back to you, my patient. Sorry about the commotion. Where were we?
Ah, that's right, I was just explaining how far we've come since your accident. As you can see, it's been quite an eventful year.
it's hard to shake the feeling that I've always got five stars in this Grand Theft Auto known as life.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
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