The Megaphone of Truth and the Beacon of All Sciences lay in a bathtub he had personally installed in his -office-—or more precisely, his cell in the Church of Science, where he'd been a member for many long, illuminating years.
His auditor, clearly an uncultured savage when it came to the art of proper rest, had ordered the tub to be removed immediately, but Maiji—being a Kuiper—only listened to two authorities: himself
and the Universe. And the Universe, in all its bubbly wisdom, suggested a solution that would satisfy everyone—he offered to let the auditor soak in the blessed waters of his majestic tub.
For some reason, that generous offer fast-tracked the removal order, and by tomorrow, the bathtub would be gone. Maiji grieved the upcoming separation from his loyal porcelain friend, though he had sternly instructed himself never to get emotionally attached to objects. But even He, on rare occasions, could afford innocent little weaknesses. He'd already shown incredible restraint by not hooking it up to the full plumbing system, instead settling for his devoted vassals lugging buckets of water to it by hand.
Silent Stacey (or rather, very talkative Stacey, whose tragically discordant voice grated on the Master's sacred eardrums and had thus been forbidden from disturbing his delicate membranes) was gently scrubbing His back. Meanwhile, the hulking Casey held a tiny yellow toy submarine and was dutifully guiding it beneath the soapy surface.
Deeper! – Barked the Supreme Navigator and Lord of All – Adjust your course properly, straight to the rim! And watch that vessel doesn't crash!
The two-meter-tall hulk obeyed without question, and the Maestro, having ensured that operations were on track, closed his eyes in contentment. Of course, it was in that very moment of sacred bliss that a knock echoed through the room—timid, familiar, and undeniably irritating. The knock of a certain twiggy individual with a soul-piercing presence.
Maiji didn't react. Not at first. But after the twentieth knock, he slowly rose out of the bathwater and growled:
Valeria, you insufferable spawn of a jackal—who, by unfortunate coincidence, is also my dear brother. What in the ever-loving cosmos compels you to interrupt me at this most sacred hour?
A voice replied from behind the door:
It's eleven in the morning, uncle. Erich and Louise are here to see
The Master paused, visibly confused. Who the hell were Erich and Louise? Never heard of 'em. Stacey, wiping her hands, picked up a tablet and typed out: -The photographer guy.-
Ahhh! – The Sharpest Mind on Terra finally – The diver kid. And the one with the nose ring. Let them in.
Valeria remained in the hallway—where she belonged—while the two potential clients crossed the threshold. Maiji inhaled deeply. The sweet scent of possible revenue filled his nostrils. He motioned for someone to bring him his luxurious black tea-colored bathrobe with the silk sash. Robed right in front of his new admirers, he strutted barefoot over to his throne-like desk and took a seat.
Immediately, the blow dryer plugged itself in (somehow), and Casey began drying his glorious mane, intent on grooming every strand to perfection. The second vassal dashed to the drink bar and retrieved his favorite bottle of snake wine—a traditional rice liquor with a whole serpent lovingly marinated inside, as demanded by the Master himself.
Maiji now sipped the elixir from a gilded goblet engraved with the family crest: A Plate of Crab Salad Ringed by Smiling Peaches in Nurse Outfits. His Legendary Feet, already toasty, were being delicately dabbed dry by a sweating Stacey with a thick bath towel.
The Living Icon gestured for his new business prospects to take a seat and, with tremendous generosity, indicated that he was now listening—by wiggling his pinky toe. When they failed to catch the signal, he wiggled the pinky finger instead. Subtly, of course. As is proper.
We're here to talk to you, Master, about a future Can you organize it? – Louise began politely, but the Greatest Negotiator on Earth cut her off mid-sentence, reaching for his vintage rotary phone and dialing with absolute grace.
Aika, hey hey! You busy? Yeah? Don't care, listen: can you set up an art show in the next few days? My assistants will send you everything you You good? Fantastic. I owe you one, light of my solar system. Talk soon. Wa-WÁ! Gua-WÁ!
The Brilliant Manager known as the Amazing Maiji turned his gaze toward the two soft-skulled mortals standing before him.
You heard it. There'll be your precious art gallery. Casey! – He flicked a hand, and like magic, a contract materialized in his palm. – Here's my standard agent agreement. Read it yourself or call your lawyer, makes no difference to But your signature? I expect it today. Or more precisely... – he gestured, and a massive clock face was lowered right up to their noses, – in five minutes.
Waiting is the most boring thing in the world, but even that can be weaponized by those who truly understand time. Stacey whipped out a deck of cards, and the three of them—she, her brother, and the Bathtub Buddha himself—began a game. Naturally, Maiji was winning from the first hand. Just as he declared his inevitable triumph, the negotiators finished their whispering and pushed the paper aside.
That one—what's her name again? Ah yes! Louise pointed at the document and asked, stunned:
Master, no offense, seriously, but... why are you taking 90% of all the proceeds? Isn't .. I mean... a bit much?
The Chief Legal Eagle of the Galaxy kept his face unreadable and simply motioned for his assistant to bring them another version of the contract. Damn, this one actually read the thing! In five
minutes, no less. Respect where it's due. But still—no dice, no fuss.
Hmmm… thirty-five – She offered, after exchanging a glance with her monosyllabic brother. I don't work for scraps, – the Savvy Negotiator shut that down – If you want this to be a real series of shows, not a one-time gimmick, then welcome aboard as my partners. If not— kindly yeet yourselves out of my sanctum.
Didn't take long. The sacred signature was scribbled in its designated spot. The Master added a flawless, calligraphic -M- in his own corner. Now it was official. And with that, the sacred ritual of team building could begin.
My dear little hummingbird, out you Close the door behind you, – he waved Louise away with a graceful flick, – tell Valeria to get you some coffee, feed you something decent, and you two can sit and... do whatever it is you people do. Bond, or gossip, or braid each other's feelings. I need to talk to this—undeniably gifted—young man.
Louise looked over at the photographer with concern:
You gonna be alright?
He nodded. She turned toward the door, throwing a few sideways glances like she expected Maiji to turn into a lamprey at any moment. When her footsteps finally faded away, the Master knew: the real alignment phase was ready to begin.