The future, June 2031. A phone goes Boom de Yada, Boom de Yada.
M: Hellö, is this Ms. BlitzGirl?
B: Yes, but they call me BlitzWoman now. And you are...?
M: I am Mikrit, the Swedish ÖTTer. I dön't knöw if you remember me, but...
B: Old man Mikrit? Really? I remember every OTTer, Mr. Mikrit. You have a charming accent.
M: I häve an accent? I mean, thänk you. Er, I have been Waiting for this...
B: Praise the GLR!
M: Um, yes. I wonder, would you find it creepy if I asked you for a däte?
B: Let me check. You posted a double dactyl about your 50th birthdip on NP 783...
M: You remember that?
B: I remember every post, Mr. Mikrit. So, your current age must now be ... and if I take half of that and add 7... no, since my birthdip last wip, that would no longer be creepy.
M: So you take the ständard creepiness rule literally, then?
B: Is the Mome a Randallian?
M: I suppose she is - I hoped you wöuld say that. How äbout it then?
B: A date with you would be 243.
M: What's thät?
B: Footnote 243 I mean, introduced on NP 12835. It means "ladymolpybuggish".
M: And thät means...?
B: *Sigh.* It means: Not as great as a flutterbeewing but less repugnant than a dungbeetlemolpy. I thought you followed the thread, Mr. Mikrit.
M: I do, but my memory is nöt very good nöwadays, I'm afraid. So, thät means you äccept? In that cäse, Ms. BlitzWoman, mäy I humbly suggest that you cöme and visit me here? I could show you my Father's collection of diacritics, mäybe we can see a majestic mööse, änd we could täke a tour around the city on my möbility scooter.
B: Well, all right, but I can only be away from home for a few hours. My 24 redundacats needs feeding.
M: What footnöte is that?
B: That's not a footnote, that's how many they are.
M: Ah. But thät's a problem, because the flight to Sweden täkes at least half a day, I mean dip.
B: What do you mean, flight? You must have forgotten that this is the future, which is pretty cool, you know.
M: Oh. So it is. My mind must have been wåndering. Right, I will give you the coördinates for the teleport booth at Gustavus Adolphus Square. I'll meet you there, shäll I?
B: Please do. I will just pack a few things first.
*Eerie sound of teleportation, approximately BSZHWAMMMMMmmm...*
M: A boa and a fläg hat? You dressed up like your ävatar so I wöuld recognize you? What ä nice idea, Ms. BlitzWoman.
B: What do you mean, "dressed up"? This is what I always wear. And you. Mr. Mikrit, you look exactly like, er...
M: Like my ävatar, you mean? The händsome äthletic dancer?
B: Not really. I was going to say, exactly like Cueball.
M: Well, I äm allergic to Regain. But änyway, let me shöw you around. The statue you see över there is King Gustavus Adolphus, who föunded the city in 1620.
B: I see he has a very stylish hat, and he tries to look important as he points at the ground. And there is an inscription, "HÄR SKALL STADEN LIGGA", what does that mean?
M: That's what he said! HA HA HA! Ha ha ha! *Snicker, giggle, snort!*
B: I beg your pardon, Mr. Mikrit?
M: It means "HERE, THE TOWN SHALL BE". That's what the King said when he föunded the city.
B: And you find that amusing?
M: No no, I wås making a jöke. You see, in America you häve these "That's-what-she-said" jökes, so I thought it wås funny when I instead said, "that's what he said"!
B: Oh, I understand now. Very droll, Mr. Mikrit. Ha. Ha.
M: Thänk you, Ms. BlitzWoman. I am hilariöus, am I not? Äs a mätter of fact, the inhabitants of this city häve a reputation för wit and humour.
B: Indeed? Any special kind of humour, perchance?
M: Yes, nöw that I come to think aböut it, it's quite a cöincidence. You knöw, in the first yips of the OTT, when you pretended to dislike puns?
B: I pretended?
M: Yes, yes, you did, it was very funny. You pretended that you wöuld hunt döwn punners with a mighty weapon of some sort. A punsword, wasn't it?
B: Something like that, yes.
M: Great days, great days. But then, the punning in the OTT grädually ceased. I never understööd why.
B: It's a mystery, Mr. Mikrit.
M: It sure is. But as I said, it is a cöincidence, because the inhabitants in this city are especially fönd of puns. Just look here in the löcal newspaper. They have a column called "Wörst puns from the readership", where the readers can submit their puns. These puns are usually hörribly cöntrived, but thät mäkes it all the merrier.
M: I say, you are swäying a little, Ms. BlitzWoman. I suppose it's the jet läg, I mean the teleport läg. Here, we can sit down on this bench.
B: Thank you.
M: Well, to cöntinue, there is also a löcal tradition that each public building shöuld have a funny nicknäme, preferably a pun. But they are nöt easy to translate to English.
B: Oh please, Mr. Mikrit, don't bother!
M: But I äm sure you would enjöy them if I only cöuld... Öh, here is one that might wörk in English too. You see, we have a Catholic church in a place called the Heath, and since a church can have a döme, we call it the Heath-en-döme, which sounds like Heathendom, which is our word for Paganism! Clever, is it nöt?
I say, what's that you are unpacking from your long and narrow suitcase, Ms. BlitzWoman? Öh, I didn't knöw that you are a lumberjack. Höw interesting. Änd you häve heard of our majestic Scandinavian förests, and wånted to come prepared, am I right?
This midnight sun cän sure pläy tricks. For a möment there, it almöst looked as if your eyes were starting to glow red.
I don't think you are allowed to start that thing here in the city, Ms. BlitzWoman.
They are glowing red. Öh dear.
THUS ENDS GOTHENBURG.