Robert Hated Robots - Robert Hated Robots by Nemesisau
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chapter 1:
Robert Hated Robots
Robert Hated Robots
chapter 1
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updated Sep 07, 2008
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1699 characters
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Robert hated robots.
"I hate robots!" he'd say, to anyone that would listen.
He lived on the street, in a box. A cardboard one, because he hated metal.
30 years ago his job at the plant was taken by a robot. That's why he hated them.
"Shiny metal bastards!" he yelled, to nobody in particular, "Stealin' all our jobs! Goddamn coppers are *made* of copper nowadays!"
"Bastards!" he concluded.
Everywhere he looked, he saw robots. People with robot briefcases, robot hands and feet, robot cars, robot barristas in Robobucks.
"They're taking over," he muttered, "Ain't nobody alive no more can' do nothing like they used ta in the olden days."
Nowadays, everything was robotic, computer controlled, networked and fuzzy logic-ed.
Not Robert. He was off the grid.
"All of them all hooked up, it'll be our downfall I tells ya!"
A passerby tried to give him some change, but couldn't find anywhere to swipe the back of his hand. He shrugged and walked on.
"Bastards!" Robert called after him.
In a tower at the centre of the bay, the Taskmaster looked with interest. There weren't many like Robert, but there were enough, and not all babbled like demented old fools. The Taskmaster tried to think of the best way to deal with this particular problem, as he had tried many times before, but always, something prevented him from making the decision he knew had to be made.
They couldn't be integrated, they'd resist and taint the flow of information. They were uncontrollable.
The Taskmaster struggled with the decision some more. Finally, he overcame the programming block set in place decades ago. All over the city, enforcement robots came to life, with new orders.
Eliminate the organics.
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"I hate robots!" he'd say, to anyone that would listen.
He lived on the street, in a box. A cardboard one, because he hated metal.
30 years ago his job at the plant was taken by a robot. That's why he hated them.
"Shiny metal bastards!" he yelled, to nobody in particular, "Stealin' all our jobs! Goddamn coppers are *made* of copper nowadays!"
"Bastards!" he concluded.
Everywhere he looked, he saw robots. People with robot briefcases, robot hands and feet, robot cars, robot barristas in Robobucks.
"They're taking over," he muttered, "Ain't nobody alive no more can' do nothing like they used ta in the olden days."
Nowadays, everything was robotic, computer controlled, networked and fuzzy logic-ed.
Not Robert. He was off the grid.
"All of them all hooked up, it'll be our downfall I tells ya!"
A passerby tried to give him some change, but couldn't find anywhere to swipe the back of his hand. He shrugged and walked on.
"Bastards!" Robert called after him.
In a tower at the centre of the bay, the Taskmaster looked with interest. There weren't many like Robert, but there were enough, and not all babbled like demented old fools. The Taskmaster tried to think of the best way to deal with this particular problem, as he had tried many times before, but always, something prevented him from making the decision he knew had to be made.
They couldn't be integrated, they'd resist and taint the flow of information. They were uncontrollable.
The Taskmaster struggled with the decision some more. Finally, he overcame the programming block set in place decades ago. All over the city, enforcement robots came to life, with new orders.
Eliminate the organics.
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