“Pure gospel, man,” said Harry, holding up a palm as if taking an oath. “Rev himself ain’t ever said a word as true as this stuff I’m lettin’ you in on.”
Some of the listeners-mostly new members of the company unfamiliar with the supply sergeant’s ways-nodded and murmured words of approval. They’d been in the Legion a while, but they still had a tendency to believe everything they heard from a veteran, especially from a fast talker like Chocolate Harry. This made them welcome additions to the supply sergeant’s poker games and easy marks for his long string of scams.
But Sushi was a veteran and a first-class scammer in his own right. “It’s a triff story,” he said, grinning. “What I still haven’t figured out is how Harry thinks he’s going to make a buck out of it. I’ll admit he could be telling lies for free, just to keep in practice, maybe. But somewhere down the road, if we buy this line of stuff, it’s going to cost us. What’s the deal, Harry? Are you selling robot repellent or something?”
“You oughta know me better than that, Soosh,” said Harry, managing a hurt expression. “I’d never try to sell something like that. Why, a robot’s mechanical. You can’t run it off like you would some kinda bug.”
“That’s true,” said Do-Wop. “The robots I’ve seen, they just don’t let anything bother them. Sorta like Mahatma when he gets wrapped up in something. There’s no stopping him.”
“That’s right,” said Harry. “That’s why something like a repellent won’t work. But there is one thing-“
“Here it comes!” said Sushi, and everyone chuckled. Even Tusk-anini leaned forward in anticipation of Chocolate Harry’s spiel.