In between sips of your beer , the maintainers of the hardware running the computer simulation of the universe you live in upgrade from 32 bit to 64 bit . Describe your experience .

** [ Um... I ran out of time to finish, but here's what I have, any comments? ] ** 
 
 `` Hand me the blue folder, Allen'' 
 
 `` Right... Here. Number 32-B, I would describe that as periwinkle, would n't you? 
 
 `` Periwinkle?... No. No, It's blue, damn you, now give that here.'' 
 
 “ Now, now, Sullivan, you mustn ’ t scowl, you ’ ll put wrinkles in that gorgeous skin of yours. How about a smile instead? We ’ re ahead of schedule, aren ’ t we? ” 
 
 Sullivan only grumbled. Allen handed him a slim, faded blue folder with four neatly punched pockets. On the front, printed in clean bone-white lettering was the following: 
 
 [ 32-B ] 
 
 8-Octet Flush 
 
 For Use with Installation IV-0, IV-1, & IV-1.1 
 
 Allen, a humanoid with white skin and small teeth, smirked quietly to himself as his more sullen companion, Sullivan, extracted four neatly typed pages from the folder. Sullivan was a humanoid cut from a cloth similar to Allen, except his teeth were dull, green, and sharp. He wore prim dress shirts made of hideously beige material. His hair appeared greasy, but was perfectly combed into a caesar cut. 
 
 Not to imply, of course, that Sullivan had ever heard of the roman statesman, Julius Ceasar, Sullivan couldn ’ t have, he was not from that world. Sullivan was an immortal being who existed solely within the confines of a multi-faceted diamond-shaped field of electromagnetic current which was constantly fluxing through the security exits of different universes. Yes, every universe has a security exit. But they are hard to find, and most exits aren ’ t much larger than 32 pico-meters, which isn ’ t very large at all. 
 
 Allen was Sullivan ’ s companion, to be more specific – his only companion. Because Allen and Sullivan were the only to beings that existed within the traveling field of electromagnetic current which they shared, and had been sharing, for over 400,000,000,000 years. It was their job to patch the different simulated string-installations which were eternally humming and buzzing in their infinite vacuum of negatively charged particles. 
 
 The simulated string installation in which you are reading this narrative is IV-1.1, which Allen and Sullivan are currently integrating with the new, state-of-the-art Simu-String Processor: Freon X-32 
 
 “ Things might get a little bumpy. ” Sullivan grumbled underneath his breath. 
 
 “ Darling, don ’ t they always? ” Allen said warmly. He poked his head over the monitor stationed in front of him and winked wryly at Sullivan. Sullivan launched a chewed pencil at him without flinching, and Allen ducked quickly, laughing. His tiny white teeth glistening in green fleshy gums. 
 
 Sullivan stared at his monitor and entered four commands into the attached terminal. Shortly after he had punched in the last command, the monstrous and loud brass clanging of an impossibly large machine began to reverberate outside the dome of obsidian black glass where he and Allen performed their eternal maintenance. 
 
 “ Oh dear! That clanging! How dreadful, I ’ ve always hated this part, ” Allen said morosely. Sullivan did not hear him over the machine. 
 
 The installation began. 
 
 On planet earth in the string simulation IV-1.1, a man by the name of Joseph Cornflower sat down to enjoy a glass of Dry Irish stout. 

