Red Mosquito

The Argonaut wrote:The AI is less impressive the more I ask it to do. It can't do much, but it does it with confidence. Honestly, that's dangerous

Jorge: ¡Hola, Argo! How's life in the States?

Argo: Hey, Jorge! It's good, but I've always wondered about Buenos Aires. What's it like living there?

Jorge: Ah, Buenos Aires is a city with a rhythm of its own. The tango, the lively streets, and, of course, the mate culture.

Argo: Mate? Like a friend?

Jorge: No, no, mate is a traditional Argentine drink. It's like a herbal tea, but we share it with friends. You'll get used to it.

Argo: Sounds interesting! What about the food?

Jorge: Oh, the food is a feast! Empanadas, asado, and don't forget the dulce de leche. You'll gain a few kilos for sure.

Argo: Kilos? Is that like a currency there?

Jorge: (chuckles) No, Argo, it's the metric system for weight. You'll adapt to it, and maybe even enjoy the extra kilos.

Argo: Alright, but what about the language? I've heard Argentinian Spanish is unique.

Jorge: ¡Claro! We have our own twist on it. Lunfardo, slang from the streets, adds some flavor. You'll pick it up, amigo.

Argo: Lunfardo? Is that like a dance?

Jorge: No, no, it's like a secret language. You'll learn the ropes, just watch out for those mischievous words.

Argo: Got it! Anything else I should know about Buenos Aires?

Jorge: Well, be ready for the unpredictable weather, mate. And always keep an eye out for the hidden gems in the city.

Argo: Unpredictable weather? Like, it could start raining mate?

Jorge: (laughs) No, Argo, just be prepared for four seasons in one day. But you'll love the energy of Buenos Aires, trust me.

Argo: Sounds like an adventure! I'll start practicing my Spanish and get ready for those kilos.

Jorge: Perfecto, amigo! You'll fit right in. ¡Vamos a disfrutar la vida porteña!

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

INT. LENNY'S FRONT PORCH - DAY

LENNY
(looking up and smiling)
Well, howdy there, Argo! Enjoying the sweet southern breeze today?

ARGO
(nodding)
Sure am, Lenny. It's a lot different from up North, that's for sure. People seem friendlier down here.

LENNY
(grinning)
Oh, we sure do pride ourselves on hospitality, Argo. It's like the whole state's one big family reunion.

ARGO
(smiling)
It feels that way. Everyone's so warm and welcoming.

LENNY
(slyly)
You know, Argo, it's not just the folks that are friendly. Even the weather's got a bit of southern charm to it.

ARGO
(raising an eyebrow)
What do you mean?

LENNY
(leaning in conspiratorially)
Well, Argo, you ever notice how the snow up North can be a bit much? I mean, who needs all that shoveling and scraping every winter?

ARGO
(nodding in agreement)
You're right about that. I spend half my time clearing snow off my driveway.

LENNY
(smiling)
Now, down here in Alabama, we got sunshine most of the year. No need for heavy winter coats or snow boots.

ARGO
(looking intrigued)
That does sound nice. But what about hurricanes? I heard Alabama gets its fair share.

LENNY
(chuckling)
Oh, Argo, hurricanes are just nature's way of giving us a little excitement. Besides, we know how to handle them. It's like a big ol' family reunion, but with a touch of adventure.

ARGO
(looking unsure)
I guess that's true, but I don't know anyone here.

LENNY
(nudging Argo)
That's where you're wrong, my friend. You know me now, and trust me, Alabama has a way of making you feel like you've known everyone forever.

ARGO
(smiling)
You've got a point, Lenny. I never thought about it that way.

LENNY
(winking)
Think about it, Argo. Alabama's waiting for you with open arms, ready to make you feel right at home.

Argo looks around, captivated by the idea of a warmer, friendlier life in Alabama.

Argo: Hey Mickey, I heard you're a professor at an Ivy League University. That sounds impressive!

Mickey: Well, of course. It takes a certain level of intellect and education to reach such heights. Not everyone can handle academia.

Argo: Yeah, it must be pretty challenging. I work at the factory down the road, and it's tough, too, you know?

Mickey: *chuckles* Tough? I doubt it compares to the intellectual rigor of my world. Factory work is for those who lack the finesse for higher pursuits.

Argo: Well, it pays the bills, and I'm doing my best. What do you teach?

Mickey: I educate minds at an Ivy League institution, Argo. Something far beyond the grasp of most people. It's about critical thinking and refined expression—qualities you likely haven't encountered.

Argo: I guess so, but everyone has their strengths, right?

Mickey: Strengths? Well, I suppose your strength lies in, what, assembling widgets? Not exactly a sophisticated pursuit.

Argo: It might not be fancy, but it's an honest job. We all contribute in different ways.

Mickey: Honest, perhaps, but hardly comparable to the intellectual contributions made in academia. You wouldn't understand the intricacies of my world.

Argo: Maybe not, Mickey, but I believe everyone deserves respect for their work. It's what keeps the world running.

Mickey: Respect is earned, Argo. I've earned mine through intellect and education, not by toiling away in some mundane factory.

Argo: Well, I've learned a lot from working hard and being part of a team. Different paths, I guess.

Mickey: *smirks* Paths, indeed. Just make sure you stay in your lane, Argo. Some paths are meant for the elite, not for everyone.

Ello: Hey, Argo, heard you're the loner in the factory. No friends, huh?

Argo: Well, not really, Ello. I get along fine with my colleagues. We have a good team.

Ello: (laughs) Sure, sure. I bet they can't stand you. You're just fooling yourself.

Argo: No, seriously. We help each other out, and we have a good time during breaks. I'm not alone.

Ello: (mocking) Right, right. I've seen how they avoid you. You're just the factory loser.

Argo: I don't think so. We share ideas, cover for each other, and even grab lunch together. I have friends there.

Ello: Friends? (laughs again) They're probably pretending so they don't hurt your feelings.

Argo: (getting frustrated) No, Ello, it's not like that. We genuinely enjoy each other's company. Maybe you should try being nicer to people.

Ello: Nice? That's not my style. But if you say so, Mr. Popular. I still think you're fooling yourself.

Argo: (defiantly) Believe what you want, Ello. I know I have friends, and that's what matters to me.

The Argonaut wrote:Tell him to PM me, it's the same thing except I think sometimes B secretly reads them

lennytheweedwhacker wrote:Come home, Tom

Jorge wrote:What did you call me