Get the broom

As Phil stood in the lab introducing himself to Eve, an explosion came
from Dirk's office. The door opened to allow black smoke to bellow
into the main lab. The alternate Dirk stepped out coughing, "You
might want to get a broom. And a fire estinguisher. Maybe even some
potpourri."
When D2 wasn't getting drunk with Dirk and Dren, he was working on a
way to try and project himself back into the dimension he came from.
Sure it was dominated by warlords who would rather kill any opposition
instead of using diplomacy. Yes, it was full of evil and you couldn't
trust anyone as much as you could trust a politician to keep his word.
But the women were really easy.
His attempt at creating a machine to traverse the gap between this
reality and his was now a smoking pile of junk in the middle of Dirk's
office. "What is that thing, anyway?" Phil asked him as the foam
smothered out the last bit of flames.
"Oh...it's...um...it's.... It's a walkman."
"A walkman? You mean a portable personal music playback device?"
"Exactly!" D2 responded.
"But it's over six feet tall!"
"So? It's an imaginative design."
"And four feet wide!"
"Are you trying to construct a hostile environment towards creativity?"
"Look at it!" Phil yelled. "It's gigantic, almost gargantuan. It's
hardly *portable*! How senseless is an unportable portable walkman?"
"I can't believe I'm hearing all this negativity from a fellow
scientist. If every scientist felt like you, you'd still
be.....well,...DEAD!" D2 turned and faced the door to leave. "I will
not be confined to an environment that stifles creativity. I'll just
relocate myself to one that inspires it."
"Where are you going?" Phil called out to D2 as the displaced man
walked out into the corridor.
"To Parrot's, for beer!"