Me: Okay, Brain. We need to seriously turn and burn on this project.
Brain: Nuh-uh. Not happening.
Me: No, really. Focus here now. This has a ridiculous deadline, and we're already running really far behind.
Brain: Yeah, so? And I care about this why?
Me: Come on. It's an interesting project...
Brain: As if. It involves re-writing large chunks of code that were produced by programmers who were graduates of the Trained Monkey School of Coding. I'd say they were top of their class, but they weren't even that good.
Me: But at least it's coding. It's not like we get to do that much any more, you know.
Brain: Hm, that's true. Maybe I'll consider toying around with it.
Me: No toying! Focus! 100%, full speed ahead!
Brain: No way.
Me: *wheedling* 75%?
Brain: 50%. Maybe. And you owe me some serious staring-at-wall time for this. No planning on trying to cram in hours and hours of major packing when we get home. I want a bath, and a good book!
Me: *tries not to look guilty* Er...
Brain: I mean it! Veggies aren't just for dinner any more.
Me: Ah, okay, okay. So, do we have a deal?
Brain: Deal. Shake on it?
Me: I ain't shaking no brain stem.
Brain: You ain't in no position to be squeamish either. Okay, let's go deal with the evil code.
Me: Note to self: No more Vlad Taltos novels first thing in the morning! It makes the brain upity.
Brain: I heard that!
Me: You know you don't have any ears, right?
Brain: Everyone's a critic.