06-06-2018, 04:01 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-06-2018, 04:03 PM by Scratch-N-Dent.)
Scratch laid there for what seemed like three weeks while his internal processors attempted to make sense of what just happened. In his state of torpor, he had inadvertently squeezed off a few staples from his Swingline – the office ‘bot equivalent of nocturnal emission.
Tearing the sheet of paper from his printer, he dropped it and sauntered off – shrugging his shoulder actuators. It took a bit to steady his gyros as he went through his usual routine of clearing his processors of startup bloat. You’d think after a few measly hours of inactivity you wouldn’t have to refresh your entire database, but that’s General Automatics Inc. for you – automation executed manually. He never really bothered to perform his usual maintenance anyway – he just dismissed the internal alerts as he went along.
He didn’t really have much of a direction in mind. He just picked one. In the distance there was a nice looking steel gate, gleaming against the pale backdrop. Scratch, although a machine, regarded it for a second and decided that he had his fill of being the least technologically advanced thing in the known universe. He instead walked the opposite direction, toward the more primitive gate that appeared to be made of hewn stone. If he could actually smile, and not grind the rusted and bent alloys in his faceplate, he would. For once, he’d actually be exceptional instead of being consigned to the mailroom. It was rather freeing to shrug off all of the drudgery of his day-to-day.
It was about an hour or so into his journey that he heard a heavy thud, just beside him. It was a mechanical arm, not unlike the one he had been fitted with quite some time ago. His first instinct was to look up, and see if there was a flying automaton that had managed to drop an arm. Nothing in sight.
He looked back down, confused, and regarded the arm laying at his feet.
The arm responded with a thumbs up.
Astonished to meet another automaton is one thing. To meet an automaton’s autonomous religious body part was quite another. There just hadn’t been a precedent for this kind of thing. Not quite knowing how to react, he waved a goodbye and continued on. Strangely, the arm had waved back at him with the exact same impulse, as though it was his own.
He paused.
Scratch shuddered, and slowly shifted his gaze down at his shoulder to find nothing there.
Code:
OUTPUT: Happens to the best of us. Hail Derp.Tearing the sheet of paper from his printer, he dropped it and sauntered off – shrugging his shoulder actuators. It took a bit to steady his gyros as he went through his usual routine of clearing his processors of startup bloat. You’d think after a few measly hours of inactivity you wouldn’t have to refresh your entire database, but that’s General Automatics Inc. for you – automation executed manually. He never really bothered to perform his usual maintenance anyway – he just dismissed the internal alerts as he went along.
Code:
Alert: Software is out of date by 100,300,595,001 days. Please download new operating system parameters and restart. Expected downtime 12 hours.He didn’t really have much of a direction in mind. He just picked one. In the distance there was a nice looking steel gate, gleaming against the pale backdrop. Scratch, although a machine, regarded it for a second and decided that he had his fill of being the least technologically advanced thing in the known universe. He instead walked the opposite direction, toward the more primitive gate that appeared to be made of hewn stone. If he could actually smile, and not grind the rusted and bent alloys in his faceplate, he would. For once, he’d actually be exceptional instead of being consigned to the mailroom. It was rather freeing to shrug off all of the drudgery of his day-to-day.
It was about an hour or so into his journey that he heard a heavy thud, just beside him. It was a mechanical arm, not unlike the one he had been fitted with quite some time ago. His first instinct was to look up, and see if there was a flying automaton that had managed to drop an arm. Nothing in sight.
He looked back down, confused, and regarded the arm laying at his feet.
Code:
OUTPUT: Greetings. Have you heard of your Lord and Savior Lord Derp?The arm responded with a thumbs up.
Astonished to meet another automaton is one thing. To meet an automaton’s autonomous religious body part was quite another. There just hadn’t been a precedent for this kind of thing. Not quite knowing how to react, he waved a goodbye and continued on. Strangely, the arm had waved back at him with the exact same impulse, as though it was his own.
He paused.
Scratch shuddered, and slowly shifted his gaze down at his shoulder to find nothing there.
Code:
OUTPUT: FFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…