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Servos whine and the cabinet doors whoosh open. Maynard waggles the big remote self-consciously; Luna laughs and claps.

“My friends wanted to volunteer at the soup kitchen, but no, I needed my teevee to live in a turbolift,” he says.

“They still have soup kitchens?” asks Luna.

“Only joking,” he says, “I have no friends.”

“Then you’d better have lots more whooshy doors,” she says. “This is best-friend-brunch-story gold.”

“I can make whooshing sound effects while I open the wine.”

“We’re having wine?”

“You’re going to need it,” he says, “before I let you see the bathroom.”