"What is it?" questioned Peter. Before him layed a contraption the size of a horse, with gears, levers, and springs meticuously orinated within the wooden columns. "I haven't thought of one" said Gutenberg, "but it is a magnificent machine." He reached for a lever and pulled it down. A flat piece of iron with parchment slammed down onto the table. As it lifted it dripped with fresh ink. "Read this." said Gutenberg. Peter lightly took the parchment and read.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Nam cursus. Morbi ut mi.

"Again, I humbly ask master, what is it?" said Peter. "Oh come on Peter, can't you tell? This is a printing press! It's a machine that will revolutionize the way we share information. No more gatekeeping copyists who decide which books to make." He patted the machine. "Now, anyone can share their books, stories, ideas with the world."

"But what about copyists? You're depriving them of an honest job."

"Nonsense, the scientific progress of humanity cannot be contained by traditional occupations."

Peter crossed his arms. "Who decides what should be copied then?"

"Anyone with this machine."

"Ah, but I'm sure this doesn't come cheap."

"First versions are always expensive my dear boy. With engineers and experience, we can make it cheaper and more accessible for everyone."

"Right, but with everyone printing what they want, the quality of our literature would go down." argued Peter.

"What you may read as garbage may be someone's nostalgic memory of a time forgotten. Why should a select few be regulators of what we can all share with one another? Language is a blessing, an expansive skill that allows us all to share stories, emotions, and truth. With this machine, we will reach new levels of understanding and creative freedom."

The two men looked at the machine silently. It shone with contrasting light and shadow under the lightbulb. Peter sighed, "In any case, I do not think the Church will appreciate the freedom in which anything may become printed." Gutenberg did not think of this, and scratched his beard. "You're right." He turned to him, "Get the Bible."