Mello paused and glared at Freidrich, deliberately picking up his chocolate and taking a bite, putting it down farther away. "Don't try that again." His voice was flat, almost dead: he wasn't kidding around, not when it came to his chocolate. He might settle for a smack; he might not.

Watching them warily, he finished taking off the back of the journal, setting it down so the interior was well-lit. "All right. These things don't have real video cards, probably not big enough. But this here," he moved some cables out of the way, "is the processor. That's the main part that makes it work." Mello briefly considered trying to explain what a microchip was and how it worked and dismissed it as irrelevant for these purposes. What the hell had his life come to that he was lecturing some guy from the past and three penguins on computer hardware?