[ That is a perfectly reasonable place to expect to see someone you've shot into space, if you ask him, but that's neither here nor there. That test is in, it's done, and Wheatley, he's on top of the world, isn't he? He's still crowing his victory as this wave of quiz-takers starts to file out of the amphitheatre, but it's not as if it's hard to miss him when he's easily a head taller than most of the rest of the room and he's moving about like an inebriated giraffe.

With no particular regard for volume control, he can be found apparently trying to communicate with R.O.S.I.E. just outside. ]

Right, could I have my body back, then? Appreciate the rental, don't get me wrong, appreciate the rental, but, um... Well, it's not very dignified, now is it? What with all the... legs. And... [ what other parts do they have. ] kidneys and such.

Well, you understand, don't you, luv—

[ The moment he lays eyes on her, something strikes him as wrong—and it's not just that he's laying eyes on her, plural, weird, and it's not that there seems to be something wrong with both of them for how fuzzy her outline is at a distance, but it's that she's familiar, but again it's been some time since he's had anybody but good ol' Spacey for company, so—? ]

I'll, um. Get. Get back to you.