Dr. Flug, in an effort to keep the newly-created 5.0.5 (who is basically the equivalent of a baby) from being exposed to foul language, starts up a swear jar. It’s not like he’s the one who needs it; he rarely curses unless his devices aren’t working.
Dementia, to everyone’s surprise, finds it easy to stop swearing. She just breaks something whenever she feels like cursing instead. Flug realizes that this might not have been an improvement.
They have to trick Black Hat into doing this.
“Surely the Incredibly Evil Black Hat has the best control over himself. I’m sure he’d find a challenge like this easy” says Flug in a deadpan voice. BH laughs and says he’s not that stupid.
And Flug lays down his trap card
“Shame, I guess it’s either gonna be me or Demencia who wins all the money–”
“Say what now where
So BH joins the Swear Jar group. It’s. A mistake.
“Flug you blithering idiot if you don’t have this prototype done by tonight I will personally wring your fucking nec– oh fuck– SHIT– SON OF A. MMMMMMNPH”
Black Hat has smoke coming out of his hat at this point. Dementia can’t stop laughing; Flug sees his life flash before his eyes. BH, with shaking hands, puts a fistful of cash in the swear jar and leaves.
They collectively give up on the swear Jar about three days later when BH has a tantrum that shakes the entire house and leaves him broke.
“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…
“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”
Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”
“He has black holes in his bones and supernovas on his lips. Everytime he talks and moves, it’s like staring at the infinite. Made of mysteries and dying stars, he floats softly towards the unknown.” - Miuna S. (x)