Four characters in a junkyard assemble a robot from hydraulic pistons and titanium while debating transhumanism and boyfriend bots. One delivers a surreal monologue about a bionic arm and a nightmarish accident. The mythic robot-god Roboticus promises soul access.
Chapters
In a junkyard filled with abandoned tech, between a stack of computers and a rusty car wreck, the required components started to converge.
Give me two hydraulic pistons, four server motors and titanium.
In a greasy corner of an auto garage, banging my parts together like an art collage, the first iteration started to emerge.
I'll have to craft myself a boyfriend bot who doesn't need to talk a lot Just stands in the corner til I wink who give a wink?
We wanna guide to mod human, some kind of transhuman, superhuman.
Whoa, you okay back there? Oh, thank God, it was just a dream.
Annabelle is the dream.
No, really, I dreamt we already partied in the lab and your creepy boyfriend talked me into getting a bionic— Ah! Oh my God, my arm!
If you find you've crashed in the middle of an 8-lane highway after crashing every relationship in your life.
If you find you fled a nightmarish auto accident because you woke up with a freaking bionic arm. If you feel compelled to start a twisted relationship like something out of The Terminator, RoboCop, change your mind. I need physical therapy, a place to stay, and a big check.
You'll get PT daily, your own dorm room, and a university credit card if you learn to behave. Roboticus? Roboticus?
Roboticus?
Roboticus?
It's a mashup of robot God and Spartacus. This will give you soul access after I'm— So if you really love me—
Yes. Preparations complete. Run! Run program. Derek!
Can I borrow your drill, sledgehammer, and, uh, welding gear?
