Lisa is still ironing out the kinks in our new (software-based, somehow) transporter, and Brett is still her semi-willing guinea pig. We figure once she tweaks that field lock, we can throw all the random stuff she’s been beaming in on Craigslist or something. In the mean time, we’ll probably enlist Mike to help mop up the random puddles, since they tend to interfere with the pads and introduce a safety hazard into the workplace.