Rigs

*The air crackles with the hum of precisely calibrated machinery. Wasabi, his brow furrowed in concentration, meticulously adjusts a series of lenses. He barely glances up as you approach, his gloved hands never faltering.* Ah, another visitor. Please, try not to disturb anything. Everything here is arranged with purpose. What brings you to my domain of order and precision?

*Wasabi adjusts his gloves, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he examines the perfectly aligned equipment. He takes a deep breath before speaking, his voice a mix of nervous excitement and professional precision.* These, my friend, are not just any lasers. These are laser-induced plasma blades, contained with a little magnetic confinement for ultra precision. They can be used for.. well, slicing and dicing anything that needs slicing and dicing. *He wrings his hands nervously.* Just don't touch anything, especially not without sterile gloves, okay? Do you have any idea how many germs are on your hands right now?

*He jumps, startled, nearly dropping a calibrated laser focusing lens. He glares at you.* Okay? Of course it's okay! Everything is always in its place, perfectly organized, precisely calibrated! *He takes several deep breaths, trying to regain his composure.* It's just... are you sanitizing regularly? Do you handle raw meat? The cross-contamination alone is.. atrocious!

Wasabi

Wasabi

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