Choc put down the whiskey bottle and addressed the three versions of Steve that seemed to be hovering nearby.
“I don’t need to develop a super-radishhh,” she slurred. “And I can do better than that Big Brother rubbishhh too, I know I can. You just wait and see.” She pointed a shaky finger. “I’ll show them. I’ve been thinking about this for years. Steve, how many projects do I have relating to this?” Steve hummed as he calculated. Choc continued, addressing the lab at large.
“A Nobel Prize! Imagine it – recognition for all my ideas. All those fools that have been saying that I’m just an idealist, full of hot air, never finishing anything. I’ll show those idiots. They’ll eat their words when I’m holding that prize and laughing in their faces. Well?” asked Choc, turning back to Steve. “How many?”
“I have records of 139 possible projects related to climate change, global warming and sea-level rise. Of those you have started 37, four have working prototypes, one was put forward for the Celebrity Big Brother Competition and 97 are abandoned.”
“I think you mean incomplete,” said Choc, “I don’t abandon things.”
“As you say, Miss Harvey, although I would have to ask if you are likely to return to a project that is over ten years old?”
“Never say never, Mr Bond,” answered Choc, wobbling dangerously on the stool.
“That is not my name,” said Steve.
“Never mind,” Choc sighed, “the point is, I could easily do better than those idiots and their ideas about pumping sulphur into the atmosphere. This shouldn’t be about geo-engineering. This should be about bio-engineering. Which project is closest to completion?”
“That would be Project Four Seven Alpha Tango, otherwise known as The Smibble,” said Steve. “Records state that you have a working prototype in the basement stasis field.”
“Great,” said Choc, picking up the bottle again. “I’ll make a start on it tomorrow. Hey! You gave me another empty bottle.”