Merlagram ran a number of programs with no result. Finally it requested the GOC inject it into a gher cap body. This was completely impossible, so the GOC had to go to the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts and ask their permission to inject Merlagram into one of their remaining sentient gher cap fish.

The Guild wanted the GOC to prove that the gher cap were conscious, too. They accepted.

Merlagram learned to talk to the fish within the first five minutes. Within ten, the program was so full of horrible misery that he was ready to uninstall himself.

When Gorry Goblish, the CEO of GOC, made a joke to lighten the mood (according to GOC staff present at the time, Goblish’s exact words were, “talk about executing a program”), the Merlagram just sighed and said he wished he was never written.

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Whatever the gher cap said in their short conversation had really disturbed him.

Not only that, but on top of everything, the Merlagram refused to tell anyone what was said in their secret exchange. Of course, today we know.

How do we know?

Because the GOC wanted to know so bad that they destroyed Merlagram’s gher cap host body, disassembled his programming, and opened up his data banks for inspection.

Inside, they found the banks had been password protected. Master decrypters were called. It didn’t take them long. The password was, simply,

F R E A K