"Stop sounding like an owl. Poe. Edgar Allan...."
"No," I said.
"Yes. Poe. Carrying this a bit far, aren't you, old boy?"
"No," I said blankly. "No. No."
"If you intend having a nervous breakdown, I wish you'd do it in your
own room. I really have quite a bit of work to...."
"No," I said. "Poe."
"Really, now, Fred...."
"My typewriter," I blurted. "It talks, Perry. It writes. It does
stories. Poe. Always Poe. Perry...."
"Oh-oh," he said, staring at me curiously.
"First _Usher_, and then _The Raven_, and _Masque of the Red Death_,
and now...."
"_The Facts In The Case Of M. Valdemar._ Quite."
"I ... I have to go, Perry. I have to go talk to that typewriter. I
have to find out what this is all about."
Perry leaped to his feet. "Perhaps you'd like to lie down for a while,
Fred. Maybe I can get you something cool to drink."
"No," I mumbled. "Thanks. I've got to talk to the machine."
I left him and went back to my own room. I put a sheet of paper into
the typewriter, and said, "Why'd you do it? Why?"
_DON'T GET MELODRAMATIC_, the machine typed. _THE STORY WAS A HUNDRED
TIMES BETTER THAN THAT DRIVEL YOU WROTE LAST NIGHT._
"Yes, but it's not _mine_! Can't you understand that? Poe wrote it."
_AND YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN POE? HOW RIDICULOUS!_
"I think nothing of the sort! Besides, that has nothing at all to do
with it. I simply can't go around writing stories another man has
already written."
_WHY NOT?_
"Well.... I can't, that's all. It isn't done!"
_HA!_
"It isn't done in polite circles."
_HA! HA!_
"Well, I won't do it, and that's all there is to it."
_RELAX. IF YOU DIDN'T LIKE THAT STORY, I KNOW A LOT OF OTHERS._
"Why are you doing this to me? Why don't you just go back where you
came from?"
_WHY AM I DOING WHAT TO YOU? I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU, YOU IDIOT._
"I don't want your help. I want to muddle along on my own. I want
to...."
_STOP SHOUTING!_
"I'm not shouting. Besides, with your damned upper case, you always
look as if you're shouting."
_IT WAS YOU WHO SUGGESTED UPPER CASE._
"You won't get away with this," I said, shaking my finger at the
machine. "I'll get to the bottom of it, and when I do I'll have you
licked. You wait and see."
_I'LL WAIT_, the machine typed.
I nodded my head emphatically. It was almost noon, and I had a lot to
do. I tossed one more fiery glance at the typewriter, and then left it
alone on the table.
* * * * *