One day, Tarrant was walking along, just singing a song (excerpts from La Boheme). He turned a corner and stopped as a door slid open. he netered a room full of computers, then stopped. Avon was sitting in a chair, staring moodily into the distance.

"Hey, Avon," he said. Avon started for a second, then relaxed.

"What do you want?" he asked quietly.

"I have to tell you - that you have a big chip on your shoulder."

Avon just stared at him. "Oh, really," he said.

"Yes, really," Tarrant replied. "It's been there since lunch, and it's staining your tunic." he turned and exited, whistling cheerfully.

Avon stared after him and then brushed off the chip.