Things are not going smoothly with Lt. Velma my right-hand woman and Parcheesi, who is pre-ordained to be member of the ruling class.
Velma senses a power differential with the little girl destined to lord above us who galled my faithful lieutenant by purposefully kicking the emergency space flares.
“Why are you doing that? You know the things in that box do not belong to you! Why are you messing with other people’s stuff! You know better. You are looking right at me like you know better!”
“I’m sorry,” the child said, unconvincingly.