"Are you the plumber printer?", Maggie, the bar tender, asked.
"Yeah, where are the restrooms?"
"Down the hall, on the left side", Maggie said, "We need four new plungers."
"They told me two plungers. I've gotta go back to the shop and get more resin."
As the printer plumber waddled back to his truck Maggie and I looked at each other and laughed at the vestigial human ethos in manufactured workers. It seems you can replace a plumber with a machine but the machine will then turn into a plumber. In this dystopian enclave on the banks of the Mississippi, we savored any hint of the distant world which had existed prior to the Missouri Printed Gun and Sex Bot Compromise.