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I like the whole Hollywood thing of using “555” numbers. Everyone knows it’s fake, but we’ve all communally accepted that we’ll pretend it’s real.
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Working on a computer, Zack said, “I can set up a link with some large transmitters from earth and probably ‘blast’ a message through a bunch of satellites to amplify it and send it away from earth rather than back towards it.” Picknar said, “it should include the tune ‘rock-a-bye-baby,’ as that’s unfortunately identical to the galactic S.O.S. signal. And we’ll need a meeting point.” Rodrigo said, “Melody Park is nearby.” Opening a bottle of wine, Jo said, “that’s it. This is all too much without a drink.” Zack asked to the room, “what phone number should I give them?” Looking at Val’s smartphone, Picknar said, “it looks like mine is 505-555-0143.” Rodrigo said, “look at you understanding quaint little ol’ earth technology.” He then looked over at Jo, who was drinking directly from the wine bottle, and said, “and Jo has the right idea, I’m making another drink, anyone want one?” Watching Zack, Knox said, “how long will it take?” Smiling, Rodrigo said, “it’ll be very quick, unless we’re out of ice.” Annoyed, Knox said, “I mean, ‘how long before the message goes out, and how long until a reply?'” Rodrigo said, “surely long enough for me to make drinks. Or hopefully at least long enough for me to make myself one.”
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