Viril, virtual, viral

Chapter 2. The food processor

After work, I could try a fuck simulation.

It's healthy because it takes your frustrations out, but I also liked it.

However, I had to postpone my pleasure for later, because I had some issues to resolve.

At the company, after work, you had to socialize with colleagues on a specially created network. If you weren't in tune with the world, you were isolated, then they kicked you out.

("outside" is also part of the past, because I would still have stayed in the apartment, only I had to find something else to do. Maybe if he sent me a view with some trees and rocks to complete the meaning? )

But first:

I fired up the food processor.

This "food processor" thing was one of those old ones. That in fact he did just about everything: he could cook (when you didn't want to try the simulacrum of food, although this was much more convenient), he cleaned, he sang to you when you were feeling sad, he talked to you if you were in a communicative mood (she had the ability to listen to you without interrupting you and even nodded her head, called you brilliant and applauded you), gave you a massage, scrubbed you with a foam sponge in the bathroom, brushed your clothes, did your shopping, talk to the neighbors if one upset you, talk to your ex-wife if she scared you.

I mean it was ideal.

Or the word comes.

At first I was afraid that these robots would be like the ones in the boss movies. I mean able to remove people and take over the world.

However, according to Asimov's laws, he should not have harmed a human.

So I ventured to get one, receiving thousands of assurances from the seller.

The thing was that I didn't necessarily mind the dust on the furniture, but I couldn't see it on the monitor since it had accumulated.

You could take whatever form you wanted.

I preferred one that looked like a bin with rails and crane arms. An android would have looked awful to me.

There were still some little lights twinkling in the form of eyes and a mouth, but I got over it. Because they didn't have models without these aspects.

Most of them went crazy after something like that.

And I had to comply if I didn't want to dust myself.

To become a vacuum cleaner myself.

After taking it out of the box, I taped the LEDs.

He did not revolt.

Although I was prepared with a piece of mutton taken from a neighbor.

After five interminable minutes, I put it back on the dresser.

I thought I was being ridiculous.

Then I changed her seat, just in case she started dusting the cupboard and discovered it and took the gun.

You can never know.

But he didn't wake up, despite my aiuristic movements.

I realized why:

His battery had not been charged.

Well, if he needs electricity, doesn't that mean he's dependent on me and can't move on his own?

A gratifying thought.

So I charged it with a sigh of relief.

When I calculated that he had enough current for two waves of my arm, I said to him, my palms flying to the ceiling:

"Get up and go!"

No movement.

Maybe it wasn't the right formula.

What a fool I was! How to get up if you don't lie down?

So I tried something else:

"Come to life!"

And:

"Speak!"

Maybe because of the adhesive tape on the leds holding it in place of his mouth? Maybe he's waiting for some opportune moment when I'm asleep and he's going to marry me?

Digging through the box, I found the user manual. Does it have something like that? Another reason to be happy. I give it life as often as I want, I take it, I make it do what I want.

Well, within limits. He couldn't do everything. In the manual I did not find, for example, that it could transport me to another era or to another planet.

(this thing with the planet I don't know why it crossed my mind. Maybe just to test its limits, because I wasn't really interested in going to other planets where the living conditions were not very good or not at all)

It opened with the help of an ON button, which I identified in the lower dorsal part, above the rails. Black and mundane.

It started.

With the lights of rigor.

He didn't pull out a laser rifle. He was quietly waiting for my orders.

I tested all the programs listed in the manual. Generally well behaved. It had some flaws though: he couldn't hold the cloth between the metal fingers precisely enough to wipe the dust from the corners, the rails didn't stick up the wall to finish the cobwebs, the flies were faster making the paddle just fly the lime on the walls, and if you sent him shopping he would come back with more expensive products than expected.

"But I sent you to get me a shirt on sale."

"This is fashionable, he said in a metallic voice. "

I would have had the possibility to change her voice as well, to give her a soft female voice, for example, but it would have seemed too frightening to me.

"But it's my money, I decide what to..."

"Money comes and goes."

"Where did you hear that before?"

"From a series."

"Since when do you watch series?"

Well, this thing had scared me a little. Cam was starting to mimic some human behaviors.

However, after a few months, it broke down.

Despite some troubles, this job made me happy. If it could malfunction it meant it wasn't invincible.

I got another one.