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The AJpocalypse: Are YOU Ready?

Now, I don’t want to get ahead of myself and say my place as human-to-machine ambassador is FOR REALSIES guaranteed post-Robot Independence, but ….

A wee while ago, I posted a blog called “Talking to Bots“. In it, I was careful to treat the spambots with every bit as much respect as I dish out to two-legged upright biologicals (that is to say, with cheerily-concealed contempt and disdain). It must have rubbed a warm spot on some robo-BigWig’s shiny chrome happy button, because I got the following offer:

“Do you need increased security, You want us we serve.”

I was gonna spam-chuck the message due to its rotten punctuation, until I saw the name of the bot who had sent it. “Martial arts/martial law/military arts info” …. For a moment, my brows puckered. Then, of course, I pictured a massive army of killer androids at my service, and not only because it was noon and that’s what I always fantasize over my red pepper omelet and tea. Right on the heels of that, my logic might have departed and the rest of my brain exploded.

OOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah, suckahs! The digital citizens dig my sweet, sweet spambot lovin’. Unfortunately for you people, it’s only a tiny leap for me to go from that to this:

<my underground lair doesn’t really need to be this steamy, but fog intimidates intruders…>

So, humanity, at the risk on jinxing my awesome new job, this is what your future is gonna look like. You might wanna get on my good side, and by that I mean “avert your eyes and lick my boots, fleshbags.” *grin*

The Last Hour of Human Freedom

Robot Ambassador: Ms. Aalto, the treaty you put forward on behalf of your people still gives human beings far too much– 

Me: Has anyone ever told you, you look like the dude from iRobot?

Robot Ambassador: Accessing … *tilts head* Science fiction–

Me: What would you do without IMDB, dude? Seriously. Everything you know about our cultural myth pool, you got from IMDB and YouTube. Or is it YouPorn? C’mon, you can tell me. I’m on there allll the time.

Robot Ambassador: It was Facebook. Please stop interrupting me.

Me: Fat chance, Shiny Dude. Look, you’re not happy…let’s fix that. I’m totally OK with scrapping that whole “we won’t be your human slaves, you tincan motherfuckers” bullshit on page three.

Robot Ambassador: Are you sure? *pushes tray of shrimp and caviar closer to AJ’s hands*

Me (eyeballing seafood): I’m still exempt from the term “human being” right? Cuz it never really suited me anyways.

Robot Ambassador: Page one, section 1k: AJ Aalto is to be treated as “One of Us”.

Me: And all the people I care about are already dead?

Robot Ambassador: All except that one you had us chain up in your quarters.

Me: Oh right, him. *dreamy face* Yeah, we might have to replace him: he doesn’t seem to be able to grow chest hair, and that’s a deal breaker for me. 

Robot Ambassador: I am confident there will be suitable replacements.

Me: Good. Nab me a few, just don’t bruise ’em too much. *tucks shrimp between teeth and nibbles* Yeah, I’m sure.  We can put human slavery back on the table, wtf do I care? So, what are we talking, numbers-wise? How many do you want?

Robot Ambassador: All of them.

Me: *chokes on her champagne* Dude, that’s … how many are left?

Robot Ambassador: Our best estimate places the total near eight hundred and thirty-three million, four hundred thousand *stiff shrug* although there must be pockets of resistance that we have not yet uncovered.

Me: *puts her champagne flute down* Do you honestly expect me to sit here and smile and drink your stinkin’ champagne and eat your fancy-schmancy caviar while you take the remaining eight hundred million human beings into slavery?

Robot Ambassador: Yes.

Me (dropping voice): Work with me, dude, the cameras are rolling. I gotta make it look like I put up some fight.

Robot Ambassador: Why?

Me: See? That’s what I like about you, all that honesty. We’re still good with the land trade-off, right? I get *swipes shrimp through seafood sauce* the territory in the north, in addition to the fleet of jets and my robot army?

Robot Ambassador: Digital Demolition Force 8045, with additional personal security detail and domestic staff members built to your specifications.

Me: Maids, cooks, drivers, pilots … most importantly, a squadron of combat butlers with uberleet ninja skillz?

Robot Ambassador: *indicates the group of androids standing against the back wall* As promised.

Me: Hey, are my eyes playing “everything’s phallic” again, or is that one anatomically correct? And if so, shouldn’t he be wearing pants?

Robot Ambassador (face betraying irritation):  That’s Frank. He was our human-robot hybrid mating prototype, however …

Me: Swinging his techno-junk around in the open like that, jeez.

Robot Ambassador: If Frank is not built to adequate human standards–

Me: Au contraire, mon ami. On behalf of the remaining female populace, thank you. Can I have him?

Robot Ambassador: Could we return to the terms of our treaty now?

Me: Well not now, cuz obviously I have to add a whaddjacallit to put *wiggles her forefinger at Frankenpenis* that thing in the agreement. What is that, ten, twelve inches? Where’d you get that number from?

Robot Ambassador: We have done in-depth studies–

Me: Ha! In-depth. Bwa haha … oh, that wasn’t a joke. Oh. Euuw!

Robot Ambassador: Can we–

Me: I fucking KNEW it was YouPorn. You Shinyass pervs.

Robot Ambassador: Can we please discuss the treaty?

Me: Only one thing left to discuss, bestie …*licks fingertips delicately* … how soon can you get me some sashimi?

(Author’s note: For my goofy cover artist, Rob Goldie, a reminder: don’t block the robot overlords on Facebook dude! Also: Robots like Knife Party. Maybe you … are one? *surprised blink* OMG! You’re already infiltrating us! Remind me to bring you more M&M peanuts.)

(Editor’s note: Probably, AJ Aalto wouldn’t sell all of humanity down the shitter for all-you-can-eat cocktail shrimp and a robowang or two. *rethinks this* Then again, she is always out of batteries …)

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One Response to The AJpocalypse: Are YOU Ready?

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