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Rise of the Machines
By kyle | December 23, 2008
Jhon Jhonson skittered in his Toyota jette across the night sky. He flew passed a builging that looked like a Gillette Venus ladie’s razor. A hologram of a babe with a bowlcut bid him good morrow. That’s right, ladies in germs: it was the Future.
No time to think about the future, however, now; Jhon had to concentrate on the throttles as he expertly landed his jette onto his bachelor’s pad. He stepped down lightly onto the pad, future-Lycra pant’s gripping his calfs as tight as a dog’s jaws on a vermit’s headbone. Jhon put his eye on a red thing. The red thing shot a laser into aforementioned eye and the door opened to Jhon’s house. To the untrained eye, the inside looked like a chicken coop for a herd of chicken; notwithstanding, to Jhon’s futureye, he instently recognized it as furniture. In the future, furniture looks like big freaking eggs. Don’t ask me why.
Jhon popped a CD into a hole. A voice came waddling out, and it sounded like the wheelchair scientist. But in the future, this music is the music that is good. Go figure. Jhon bombed his head to the beat, jungle rythymhs shaking out of his hairs.
Jhon, by the way, was a detective who hunted robots because robots did bad stuff. Robots were bullys and creeps, like Hannonball Lecture meets O’Jay. They had the cunning of a Mugsy Bogues with the sheer power of a Kevin McHale. Only problem? Robots looked like people. The only way to know a robot was if it punched a windsheild and didn’t get hurt. Or if it had metal bones and wire brain. It was time for Jhon to start his Beat. He got his gun and his devise, which could tell a robot by pointing at it and beeping. He timetraveled to work.
“Freeze, metalhead! Your not going to be listening to any Quiet Riot where your going: to the junkyard.” Jhon bellowed to a robot he saw on the Beat. He killed the robot by shoting him out of the airlock into space. The robot screamed like Frampton Comes Alive as it exploded into a firey mess. Jhon smiled like Mr. Bean.
Suddenly Jhon realized he was a robot. He had always been a robot. A bad man made him and now he was going to die. He saw a warship on the wing of O’Ryan. Time to die. He died.
Topics: By: Kyle | 1 Comment »
December 23rd, 2008 at 8:12 pm
Fiction…or a horrowing peak into the Future?