OWEN: LET ME GIVE IT ANOTHER SHOT. I’M NOT TIRED AND I’VE GOT NOTHING BETTER TO DO TONIGHT.
SYSOP: SOUNDS LIKE THE OWEN I KNOW. I’D BE A BAD ADULT IF I SAID “YES, PLEASE GO AHEAD.” SO I’LL JUST SAY DO WHAT YOU WOULD NORMALLY DO. AND IF YOU *DO* HAPPEN TO STAY UP, AND *DO* HAPPEN TO FIND AN ANSWER, SHOOT IT OVER TO ME IN A PRIVATE MESSAGE.
OWEN:
The chat screen refreshed itself and Owen was presented the main menu.
He hesitated there for at least a minute, mindlessly bouncing the selection cursor around the options before deciding to take his turn in Trade Wars.
After using up all his turns selling fuel ore and taking out a couple of planets, he was tempted to log off. The meds did make him tired, practically lethargic, but it wasn’t enough to keep his brain from chastising him for
