home authors guest shorts graphical shorts
R.O.B.E.R.T the Robot journalist stared at his blank computer screen, the gears in its neck module whizzed as he shifted his head node quizzically back and forth. His programming hadn't prepared him for this.
R.O.B.E.R.T (Robotic Operational Binary Equivalent Reporting Technoid) couldn't figure out a way to end his story on the closing of the firehouse
He was designed for objectivity. But he wanted to affect what the humans call "emotion" in his carbon-based audience.
Sal the seasoned, rumpled veteran swigged the last of his Wild Turkey from his dented flask and glanced over at his office mate. He staggered over to R.O.B.E.R.T the Robot's cubicle. He threw his arm over R.O.B.E.R.T the Robot's shoulder mechanism.
"It's all about verbs, kid, strong verbs," Sal barked. "Fuck adjectives. Adjectives are for pussies."
R.O.B.E.R.T tilted his head-node. "Pussies," he inquired.
"You'll understand one day, kid," Sal said. "One day."
Later that year, as Sal died of an alcohol induced stroke in the office begging for help, R.O.B.E.R.T the Robot watched with child like wonder. He wrote that his friend's body "flopped" and his mouth "foamed." His sub processors shuddered with recognition.
The day had come.
Date Written: July 01, 2003
Average Vote: 4.57143