It was a companionable quiet, with the rhythmic “whud, whud, whud” of the engine accompanied by various tapping and clanking of everyone doing their jobs. Eventually everyone’s noises gradually synced with the main beat and suddenly the Lion King happened.
“I swear sir, I left for four seconds and they started a musical number"
Goryx stared out at the rows of humans - still working, of course - as they continued to sing.
"TILL WE FIND OUR PLACE,” they collectively roared, “IN THE PATH UNWINDING… IN THE CIR-CLE…. THE CIRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIIFE…”
“Please tell me this is an isolated incident?”
“Er,” said Chamb. “Actually…”
Goryx learned much, that day. For starters, that humans could start collectively singing at the drop of a beat. And there were many, many -too many- human songs in their collective consciousness that apparently everyone knew.
Also, that it was a good idea to separate the ones who sang Under Pressure from those who sang Ice Ice Baby. Just to avoid internal tensions.
“Is this a bonding exercise?” Goryx enquired.
“It can be,” explained Chumb. “In so far as I’ve been able to understand… they do it to make their days more interesting.”
“Interesting? Interesting can be fatal.”
“Yes, sir. This is a safe variety of interesting. They get… bored.”
Bored. A human word suggesting that life as they knew it was not sufficient. That safety and satisfaction were not enough.
Goryx eventually rolled hir eyes at them all and muttered, “Death worlders,” under hir breath.
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