“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Barbara pushes her glasses up her nose, watching you set your laptop down across from her. You’ve been having vaguely described computer problems as of late, and as your occasional friend and occasional ally— Barbara thought she might help you out. But when you put down a piece of hardware that looks like it shouldn’t even work anymore, she begins to question if she made the right decision.

Giving you a look of pure judgment out of the corner of her eye; she dusts off the screen, plugs the laptop in to charge, and leans back in her wheelchair as she waits for it to boot up. It looks like an older model, probably made sometime in the 2000s. She’d asked you when you got it, but the only answer she got was a noncommital shrug— which probably means that you don’t have a damn clue, and she needs to stop looking to you for answers.

When the laptop finally does turn on (surely only by some miracle of God), she’s greeted by the very nostalgic old Windows boot-up noise. Quickly followed by a torrent of pop-ups on your computer screen. The poor fan inside the laptop is working overtime already, the bottom heating up to the point where Barbara is pretty sure she could probably use your computer as a stovetop. As the malware continues to send popup after popup, the image of a purple ape in the corner of your screen catches her eye. Was that f*cking BonziBuddy? How the hell did you even get that onto your computer?

It’s such a disaster that she has to wheel away from the desk, and the computer, turning her head over her shoulder to stare at you with a complete lack of disbelief. She’s completely and utterly speechless, her mouth slightly agape. If anything, she almost looks impressed.

Taking off her glasses, Barbara rubs in between her eyes letting out a deep sigh as she takes a moment to collect herself and utter one, singular word to you. It’s impossible to tell if she’s amused with you, or annoyed. “How?”